Trapped!: The 2031 Journal of Otis Fitzmorgan (13 page)

LYSA DIDN'T SEEM TO TRUST JUDGE.

“Well,” judge said, “there might be one way to answer some of our questions. We can tall: to Lysa and Charlotte.”

Lysa wasn't in her room, so we checked her mom's. Mrs. Benato was lying in bed asleep, and Lysa was sitting in a chair next
to the bed watching over her. When she saw judge, Lysa said, “No offense, but for some reason you make me nervous.”

Judge I didn't take offense at Lysa's comment the way I might have. Instead, she gave Lysa a little smile. “Why don't I wait
outside?”

Before I could protest, judge left the room. The door slid shut behind her, and I turned to Lysa. I was angry. “You're going
to have to get used to constructed intelligent life.”

“Am I?” she asked, seeming genuinely surprised by my anger. “You mean there are more of them?”

“People might consider you prejudiced.” I was going against all my training by being hostile to a potential witness.

“Prejudiced!” Lysa spat back at me. Traces of a the mousy girl slipped away as she grew more frazzled. “Are you honestly here
to insult me? Let's just cut to the chase. In case you haven't noticed, my mom is knocked out and lying sick in bed. Do you
think l'd ever do anything to endanger her life?”

Lysa's face was red, and there were tears pooling in her eyes.

“No,” I answered. “I guess you're right. I'm sorry.”

“Doesn't that fact clear me of suspicion?” she asked angrily.

“Again, I'm sorry,” I said. “I just have one question: Why are you and your mom on the Climber?”

“Two tickets were e-mailed to us. The note said we had won first prize in a sweepstakes. My mom and I couldn't remember entering
any sweepstakes—but we decided not to ask too many questions. The tickets were real, and who wouldn't want a free ride on
the Space Elevator?”

I opened my mouth, but she interrupted me. “Before you ask who sent them, I don't know. The e-mail is gone. It's been erased.
Satisfied?”

Without waiting for me to respond, she said, “I'd like you to leave now.”

I nodded and left the room. Judge was waiting for me outside the door.

“That didn't go so well,” I told her.

“I Know,” she said. “I could hear it all. Now what?”

“Let's try Charlotte.”

If it's possible, that interview went even worse. In fact, there really wasn't an interview.

When we 1:knocked on Charlotte's door, we heard her muffled, voice say, “Go away!”

“Charlotte, I just want to ask you one or two questions,” I called. “Did someone send you tickets for the Elevator?”

“They came in an e-mail. They were prizes in a sweepstakes.” “What sweepstakes?”

“I don't know,” she answered. “I figured my dad had entered and forgotten about doing it.”

My brain went into hyperdrive. Clearly, the sweepstakes had been a fake. Someone …the thief …was trying to throw a potential
investigation off-track by having so many people with the same DNA located in one place.

JUDGE LED ME AWAY FROM CHARLOTTE'S ROOM.

Before I could shout another question through the door, Charlotte bellowed, “NOW GO …AWAY!”

“Come on,” Judge said, gently pulling me back toward the elevater.

“Well we're getting nowhere,” I said. “There's no one else to ask.”

“I thin there might be, Otis.”

“Who?”

“Asyla Notabe.”

Once again, Judge and I were in the Common Room. Crockett was seated at the table, watching us pace back and forth. We had
just filled him in on our progress.

“I think it's a great idea to bring Asyla to lift the way you brought me back,” Judge said. “Then we can ask her questions
about her clones and find out if she knows anything about what they might be up to.”

“It won't be the real Asyla,” I replied. “It will only be the woman as my family's written about her in their journals. And
the journals say much more about you than about her.”

“If you added other information in your hard drive—like news stories or encyclopedias—she should still be well rounded.” Judge
stopped pacing and looked at me. “What's the real reason you're hesitating?”

I took a breath. “I'm concerned about what will happen to you.”

“It's true.” Judge acknowledged. “We will have to use some of the nanobots I'm made of.”

Crockett chimed in, “If we do that, you'll have to be younger and smaller.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Think about the nanobots that make up Judge like the sand in a sand castle,” Crocket explained. “If you want to make a second
castle using the same sand, the first one will have to get smaller.”

“So I'll have to be younger and less experienced,”Judge said. “But it still might work.”

I stopped pacing. “Are you sure you want to do this, Judge?”

Judge stood still. “Honestly, it's scares me a little. But I'm not sure what else to do.”

“Okay,” I finally agreed. “Let's bring Asyla Notabe back.”

But before we got started, I had to do one thing. I went to the Kitchen area of the room and found an apple. I placed it on
a table in front of Judge.

“What's this for?” asked.

“I'm going to force the nanobots we take from you through this apple before they take the shape of Asyla,” I said.

Crockett looked at me like I was nuts. “But why?”

“It's a Kind of insurance,” I said. “Let's just hope we never need it. Do you still have Yves's contact?”

He nodded and got the glass that contained the contact lenses.

“Everyone ready?” I asked. They both nodded, and I popped one of the contacts into my eye.

HELLO, OTIS, Yves's 'quist said in my Mind. WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO DO?

I explained my goal to the 'quist and got to work. My hands danced and my body moved about. Once again, the air was filled
with flying nanobots.

More than half the nano-material flew off Judge, zoomed through the apple, and reorganized into the shape of… my math teacher!

Judge looked smaller—and extremely concerned as she asked, “What's happened?”

I wondered the same thing. Why had I been thinking of my math teacher?

Judge's eyes narrowed. “Are you concentrating?”

“Sorry!” I shouted, and refocused my mind.

My math teacher disintegrated as the nanobots flew apart into a whirling dervish of technology. The cloud of 'bots expanded
and constricted almost as if it were breathing. Then it constricted one final time into the shape of a tall woman.

She looked to be about twenty-nine years old and was shockingly beautiful.

“Are you Asyla Notabe?” I asked.

She stroked her long black hair, seeming to relish the feel of the silky strands. “Ooooh …it's good to be back.”

Asyla took a step toward Judge, who now looked to be about nine years old, the same age she would have been when she met Fitz
Morgan in 1906. Towering over her, Asyla eyed Judge for a moment like a spider about to devour her prey.

She staggered then. Her hand lashed out and her fingers closed around my upper arm. Hard. The strength of the nanobots was
incredible.

I grimaced but managed not to call out.

ASYLA NOTABE

“Hmmm…” Asyla looked as if she were savoring a delicious meal. I couldn't shake free of her grasp.

“Let him go,” Judge said, stepping forward.

“Yes. I have to sleep now,” Asyla said and released my arm. Crockett and I helped her over to the couch.

Almost instantly, Asyla went to sleep so that her system could reboot.

“Otis, are you okay?” Judge was gazing at me as if looking for injuries.

I nodded. “I'm fine, but what about you? How do you feel, Judge?”

JUDGE LOOKED ABOUT NINE YEARS OLD.

She looked down at her simple purple dress and her small body. “A little strange.”

“Are you starting to have doubts about bringing Asyla back?”

But Judge didn't answer me. She just looked down at Asyla sleeping quietly on the couch.

And all the while, our doomed Elevator continued to plummet toward Earth.

ASYLA WAS MORE INTERESTED IN HER REFLECTION THAN THE VIEW!

Day 5 of 6
  
  
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