The Twin Powers (14 page)

“When this is over, Director,” said the Lump in a soothing voice, “you can toss him into space. Right now, we need him alive. He may turn out to be a bargaining chip.”

The Lump winked at me. I couldn't tell if he was signaling that he was on my side or on her side or if he was just telling me to keep my mouth shut. His mind was in lockdown.

“Get that brat out of here,” said the director.

Two guards were lifting me out of my chair when the pilot said, “Destination in view.”

I spotted what had to be Riverboat in a corner of one of the flight-deck screens.

“That's it?” said the director. She sounded disappointed.

“What were you expecting?” I said. “The Death Star?”

“Kind of,” she said. “What was the place where the Borg hung out?”

“The Unicomplex,” I said.

“You would know that,” said the director.

“I think that's just a floating space station,” said the Lump, indicating the picture on the screen in front of them. “It's not their planet.”

“Homestead?” said the director.

“Homeplace,” I snarled. “Better get it right if you expect them to listen to you.”

She shook her head. “I will deal with you later.” She signaled the guards. They dropped me back into the chair. One of them gave my arm a little twist on the way down. I couldn't resist imagining one of his fingers breaking. He let out a cry of pain and clutched his hand. It was all in his head and his finger was physically fine. I shouldn't have done it, though, as good as payback feels for the moment. Luckily, no one else was paying much attention. If people saw stuff like that happen, they could figure out that I have powers. I had to watch myself.

Riverboat slowly filled the screen. Its belly was open and lights shone from inside. After a while, a tube slid out and attached itself to our ship, right over the main hatch.

The hatch popped open. A digitized voice said, “You may enter. The passageway is pressurized for your safety.”

“Think we can trust them?” said the director.

“If they wanted to blow us away,” said the Lump, “we'd be dust by now.”

Buddy started barking at the screen. Ronnie shot me a smile. I imagined I heard him think,
Buddy knows Eddie's there.

“Let's go,” said the director. She waved two armed guards to lead the way and two to bring up the rear.

The tube connecting us to Riverboat swayed as we walked over its shifting plastic plates. Buddy scampered ahead, squealing between barks, scurrying out of the tube and over a metal floor into a brightly lit white auditorium.

Buddy ran to a closed door, went up on his back legs, and began scratching. I figured Eddie was behind the door, hiding so that the director and the Lump wouldn't know there were two of us.

Ronnie grabbed my arm. “Look!”

Alessa and Britzky were waving at us.

Next to them was Dad.

I paused for an instant in the doorway of the auditorium. I guess I felt a little shy. But then Dad opened his arms and I raced into them.

ALESSA

THE RIVERBOAT SPACE STATION

2012

 

B
RITZKY
nudged me with an elbow and pointed at a tall woman storming into the auditorium at the head of a pack of tough-looking people with guns.

“Who's in charge here?” she shouted.

Tom and his dad unhugged and Dr. Traum said, “They are in charge,” pointing to the colored shapes on the stage. “The Supreme Council of the Primary People.”

The woman said, “I am the director of the National Security Agency's Bureau of Unidentified Flying Objects and Extraterrestrial Life Forms.” She waited for all that to sink in. Then she said, “And I am a special envoy from the president of the United States.”

“You are welcome,” said Dr. Traum. “But first, no weapons are permitted here. Please put down your guns.”

“That's not going to happen,” said the director.

“I must insist,” said Dr. Traum.

“Insisting would be a mistake,” said the director.

It was a tense moment.

Dr. Traum looked at Tom, who looked at his dad, who nodded.

Tom swept his eyes across the guards. They began screaming and throwing their guns away as if they had turned into . . . snakes!

Britzky and I grinned at each other. I said, “Great twin minds with a single thought.”

“Snakes are getting old,” said Britzky. “Hope they have some other ideas.”

Tom looked at us. I could almost feel him asking us to get the guns out of the room before the guards figured out the snakes were only in their imagination. Britzky must have gotten the same message, because we both hurried over, scooped up the guns, and dumped them outside the auditorium.

When we got back, Tom and his dad gave us the thumbs-up. Dr. Traum was gesturing at the director. “Please, be seated.”

She didn't look so sure of herself now. She turned and I spotted the Lump right behind her. They looked at each other, then the woman nodded, and they took seats in the front row. So the Lump
was
working for the government. We had figured that.

“There's Ronnie,” whispered Britzky.

Ronnie was in the back of the auditorium, looking small and scared. I waved to him. He hurried over, looking grateful. I gave him a hug. I was surprised how easily Ronnie let me do it. He'd always seemed like a guy who hated to be hugged. He shook hands with Britzky. They
almost
hugged. When we sat down, Buddy jumped into Ronnie's lap and licked my hand, then Britzky's. What a family!

Dr. Traum raised his hands. “The Supreme Council of the Primary People has assembled to make its final decision on the termination of the Earths.”

The director looked confused. “Earths?”

Dr. Traum said, “There are two planet Earths. The Primary People created a second Earth, a half century younger than the first, as an experiment.”

“That's nonsense,” said the director. “It took billions of years for Earth to evolve.”

“That's true,” said Dr. Traum. “And it took us only one hundred years to clone it.”

“These . . .
creatures
are insane,” said the director to the Lump, who looked as if he was trying to hush her up. She glared at him.

The stage began to vibrate as the shapes on the grandstand shimmered, melted into one another, then slowly shook back to their original colors and shapes.

Dr. Traum said, “The Council wants to know: Why are you here?”

“It is our intention,” said the director, “to form an interplanetary alliance between Homeplace and Earth. Or the Earths, if you will.”

Dr. Traum gave her his cold smile. “What can you offer us besides extreme weather, unstable governments, and the possibility of nuclear explosions?”

“Goodwill and peace,'” the director said.

The grandstand erupted in laughter.

“The Council finds that ridiculous,” said Dr. Traum. “There has rarely been peace on your warlike planets.”

“Peace between my planet and yours,” said the director. “Otherwise, we would have to regard you as hostile and we would be prepared to blast Homeplace out of the sky.”

“That unfriendly attitude is exactly why the Council is considering when to destroy the Earths,” said Dr. Traum. “For the good of the universe.”

The laughter got nastier as the colors and shapes on the grandstand merged into a Crayola pudding.

Britzky was shivering.

“Are you okay?” I whispered.

“I'm great,” he whispered back. “This is like being inside history, like standing there while the Founding Fathers wrote the U.S. Constitution.”

“Except this could get us dead,” I said.

“Those were pretty dangerous times, too,” said Britzky.

The director said, “Let me be completely honest. It's no secret that Earth is in trouble. Extreme weather will eventually make our planet unable to sustain life. Therefore, the American people would like to enter into a relationship with the Primary People. We hope we might be able to share your planet when we are no longer able to live on ours.”

“Let me ask you again,” said Dr. Traum. “What can you possibly offer us?”

“We can offer you continued existence,” said the director. “You can accept our offer or suffer the consequences.”

“Threats,” said Dr. Traum, “from the bully of the universe.”

The grandstand on stage went berserko. There was screaming and barking as the colors spun like a kaleidoscope.

“I figured it out,” whispered Britzky. “They're holograms. The real Primary People must be somewhere else. Maybe on Homeplace.”

“How do you know stuff like that?” I was impressed.

“Like I told you, everything's online,” he said. “If you know where to look.”

Dr. Traum said, “As you can see, the Council is not amused. It will adjourn now to decide how soon to destroy the Earths.”

EDDIE

THE RIVERBOAT SPACE STATION

2012

 

D
AD
had pushed me into a library! Four walls covered with books, floor to ceiling. Why couldn't it have been a gym? If I had to wait all by myself, I'd rather be shooting hoops. It's not that I hate books. A book just doesn't fit into my hands the way a ball does. No secret—I'm not a great reader. I have trouble keeping my mind on the words.

There was a table and chair in the middle of the room. There was an open book on the table.
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer
by Mark Twain.

I walked around the room. Maybe I could find a sports book. No luck. There were history books and famous novels I had heard of in school, such as
Uncle Tom's Cabin
and
The
Grapes of Wrath,
and lots of books in different languages. There were shelves and shelves of books by Twain.

I went back to the table and looked at
Tom Sawyer.

 

Chapter One

“TOM!”

No answer.

“TOM!”

No answer.

“What's gone with that boy, I wonder? You TOM!”

The old lady pulled her spectacles down and looked over them about the room; then she put them up and looked out under them. She seldom or never looked THROUGH them for so small a thing as a boy; they were her state pair, the pride of her heart, and were built for “style,” not service—she could have seen through a pair of stove-lids just as well.

She looked perplexed for a moment, and then said, not fiercely, but still loud enough for the furniture to hear:

“Well, I lay if I get hold of you I'll
—
”

 

It wasn't that bad, I guess, sort of old-timey and slow. But I didn't feel like reading right then.

I put the book down and put my ear against the door. I could hear some yelling out there, but I couldn't make it out. I tried to tune in Tom but got no answer. Just like the old lady in the book.

I returned to the pages. There was something tucked into the back. A comic book! A Classics Illustrated version of
Tom Sawyer.

When I picked it up, a piece of paper fluttered out.

It was a letter. To me! From Dad!

 

Dear Eddie,

I know you'll read this and that's a beginning.

I know you've never thought of yourself as much of a reader, and that could be my fault. We loved playing ball together so much, we didn't spend enough time reading together. I hope we get a chance to work on that. Meanwhile, I think two good books for you to read are
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer
and
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
. I know you've read the first page of Tom Sawyer, and I bet you thought to yourself that it wasn't so bad but kind of old-fashioned and slow, and you put it down. I'd like you to try it again. But first, let me tell you a little about the story to get you started.

Tom Sawyer is a goodhearted boy who likes to act bad. He's pretty tricky. One time he has to whitewash a fence and he persuades the kids in town to do it—and they pay him to do it, too! He gets to go to his own funeral. He solves a murder, finds buried treasure, and has all kinds of dangerous adventures.

Maybe Tom Sawyer reminds you of your brother, Tom. You'll enjoy the book. And the best part is that there's a second book—even better, I think—about Tom's best pal, a brave kid named Huckleberry Finn, who reminds me of you!

Hope you enjoy your reading. We'll do some together soon.

Love,

Dad

 

I read the letter twice. I'd never gotten a letter from Dad before. He used to call home every night when he was on the road coaching basketball and tell me about where he was and what he was doing. But he'd never written. The letter made me feel close to him. He did care about us. Dad and I had barely talked when we'd hugged a little while ago. He told me how proud he was of me and we just held on.

I liked the idea that we'd be doing some reading together soon. I decided to read both books, even if it was going to be hard. I knew I could do it. I had been a lousy foul-shooter until I'd started practicing seriously every single day. I started on the comic-book version of
Tom Sawyer
first, figuring it would help me with the real version. When I neared the end, I realized I was actually enjoying reading for the first time in my life.