The Twin Powers (11 page)

“You look hungry. Want something while we're waiting?”

“Like you were reading my mind, Erin.”

She picked up the phone and ordered a hamburger, fries, and soda. I was sick of that stuff, but I just nodded and smiled harder.

When the knock and the call of “Room service!” came, Erin was texting and didn't seem to notice. One of the Browns opened the door so a waiter could push his cart into the room.

I imagined sticking a straw into the Brown's ear and whispering,
Waiter's got a gun.

“GUN!” yelled the Brown, just like in the cop shows.

He tackled the waiter. The cart rolled across the room into Erin.

I opened the hotel room door wider and yelled, “GUN!”

As the Browns in the hall rushed into the room, I jumped out, slammed the door, raced to the stairway, and plunged down the steps.

In the lobby, I imagined a fog so thick that no one could see me. I walked through it, bumping into people, saying I was sorry, until I went through the hotel's revolving doors.

The fog didn't follow me outside. I was on the sidewalk. People were waving at me. “Way to go, Tom . . . We love you, Tom . . .”

“Stop right there, Tom!” Browns were pouring out the revolving door behind me.

More were coming at me from across the street. I was trapped.

Then I heard a familiar voice.

Hop on, Eddie.

ALESSA

SOMEWHERE IN NORTHERN VIRGINIA

2012

 

“T
AKE
your clothes off,” said Agent Mathison.

“What?” I wasn't sure what I had heard.

“You heard me.”

I didn't want to hear it. My mind turned off. My ears filled with static.

“Strip!” The word cut through the static.

No way,
I thought.
You can kill me.

“I'll do it myself, then.” Agent Mathison pushed up the sleeves of her black suit jacket.

Don't care what you do. Not going to happen.
I wrapped my arms around myself. I was wearing jeans and a black Tech Off! hoodie over a black Tech Off! T-shirt. I always try to wear black. I think it makes me look thinner.

“You want me to call Agent Quinn in here to help me take your clothes off?”

I imagined the two agents ripping my clothes off. As hard as I struggled, I'd be no match for the two of them. Both bigger and stronger. Probably trained to do this. The thought of Agent Quinn seeing me naked sent an icicle down my back.

Agent Mathison opened the door and waved Agent Quinn in. He'd been standing right outside, waiting.

“We need to make sure you aren't packing anything, Alessa,” said Agent Quinn.

Agent Mathison cackled. “Can't imagine what she could hide under all that flab.”

In a kindly voice, Agent Quinn said, “It's routine, Alessa.”

I took a deep breath. “If it's so routine, how come you didn't do it right off?”

“We thought you'd be cooperative,” said Agent Quinn. “We didn't think we'd have to treat you like a suspect.”

“Suspect of what?”

“No time for your questions,” said Agent Mathison. “Take. Off. Your. Clothes.”

I didn't move. Couldn't move. I was frozen. I already felt naked. There was water in my eyes.
Don't cry, Lessi. Hang in there.

“I'm losing patience,” said Agent Mathison, tapping the toe of her black boot.

“Maybe we need a little more understanding here,” said Agent Quinn. “It's not that Alessa is being unpatriotic or criminal. She's hung up on body-image issues.”

Good cop.

“She's just fat,” said Agent Mathison.

Bad cop.

“She's not totally comfortable in her skin,” said Agent Quinn.

Good cop.

“There's so much of it,” said Agent Mathison.

Bad cop.

Go ahead,
I thought.
You think I haven't heard all of this before?

“Her feelings make her do things against her better nature,” said Agent Quinn. “Such as protecting Tom.”

“Being a tub of lard is no excuse for endangering the nation,” said Agent Mathison. “And the jury won't think so either.”

I was cold and hot. I sucked for breath. The arms I had wrapped around myself were the only things keeping me from falling apart. My fingers dug into my rolls of flesh.
Stay tough. If they keep you here and starve you, Lessi, you'll wake up skinny.

If you come out alive.

“Maybe she's hiding information about Tom in all that blubber,” said Agent Mathison. “A thumb drive, notes—who knows? We better check.”

“I'm afraid you're right,” said Agent Quinn. “But how about one more chance. I know she wants to do the right thing.”

“Okay,” said Agent Mathison. “Explain this, Alessa. You say Tom didn't come back after going after Ronnie. But you say you saw him give his speech. How's that possible?”

“I don't know.”

“She doesn't want to tell us,” said Agent Quinn.

“Let her starve!” screamed Agent Mathison. She turned away.

“Wait.” It just came out of me. “There are two of them. They're twins.”

“No wonder we didn't have a fix,” said Agent Quinn. “Better call this in, pronto.”

“First, we shake out the other loser,” said Agent Mathison.

They walked out. I felt like a puddle of fat.

BRITZKY

SOMEWHERE IN NORTHERN VIRGINIA

2012

 

“T
OUGH
guy peed his pants,” said Agent Mathison.

“Understandable, the jam he's in,” said Agent Quinn.

“Your fat friend tells us Tom is working with the aliens,” said Agent Mathison. “You can confirm that and maybe save your pathetic yellow-stained self, or you can continue to play tough and suffer the consequences.”

What consequences,
I thought.
I'm thirteen years old. What can they do to me?

“Don't think,” said Agent Quinn in his phony sympathetic voice, “that being a kid protects you from consequences. In war, kids suffer worse than grownups. And we consider this a war. You're not going to walk away.”

“Oh, he'll walk, all right,” said Agent Mathison. “After we release him in a few months, he'll walk right into a juvenile facility. Those gangbangers love tough guys with zits who pee in their pants.”

“So tell us,” said Agent Quinn. “Did Alessa tell us the truth? Is Tom in contact with the aliens? Because if she didn't . . .” He looked at Agent Mathison, who gave him her nasty smile.

I took a deep breath—I couldn't help myself. Poor Lessi. She must have figured it didn't matter if she told them. They'd probably figured it out anyway.
Okay, tell them what they already know. No more.

“It's true.”

“Where are they?” said Agent Mathison.

“I don't know,” I said.

“When is the last time you saw an alien?”

“If Hercules was an alien, then the last time I saw one was when he showed up at school.”

“That's what Alessa said too,” said Agent Quinn, smiling at him. “We're going to turn off the lights and music and let you nap for a while.”

“But first,” said Agent Mathison, “what do aliens look like?”

“Like us,” I said.

“Who do you know who were aliens?”

“Dr. Traum, the school psychologist last year. And Hercules, I guess.”

“You think Tom could be an alien?” asked Agent Quinn. His question came so casually, I wondered if he didn't remember that I'd already said no.

Carefully, I said, “I guess anyone could be an alien. You. Her.”

“Or you,” said Agent Quinn.

“Nah,” said Agent Mathison. “Aliens don't pee in their pants.”

“So,” Agent Quinn continued, “you're trying to make us believe that neither Tom nor his twin is an alien?”

“Twin?” That hit me between the eyes. How did they know that?

“One or both?”

“No, no, neither of them is an alien.”

“Neither,” said Agent Quinn, and he high-fived Agent Mathison. “Twins. Now we got it.”

They cackled as they walked out of the room. They left the music and the lights on. I closed my eyes and tried to fall into space. I wanted to go to sleep and not wake up.

TOM

EN ROUTE TO CAPE CANAVERAL, FLA.

2012

 

O
N
the helicopter, I tried to get into the Lump's mind, but it was like the inside of a computer, all passageways, compartments, and firewalls. I had expected his mind to be sloppy, like him, but he was so focused on the details of the flight—keeping Ronnie, Buddy, and me in our harnesses, giving directions to the pilots over his headset, and looking around for planes that might be following us—that his mind was a humming grid.

I had a lot of questions but I'd have to wait.

I'd never been in a chopper before and it was noisier and more uncomfortable than I'd imagined. I couldn't believe that Ronnie and Buddy were actually dozing. I watched the land change from farm to beach. I saw signs on rooftops for alligator wrestling.
We're definitely in Florida now,
I thought. Then I saw a huge airfield with giant hangars. I spotted a rocket ship. We landed.

My legs were wobbly for a couple of minutes after we climbed out of the chopper and followed the Lump into a building. A guard tried to stop Ronnie from taking Buddy inside, but the Lump showed him a badge and said something in a sharp voice. My hearing wasn't working yet.

The Lump led us into a cafeteria. He piled a lot of food onto his tray and gestured for us to do the same. I didn't have much of an appetite. Neither did Ronnie, but he got food that Buddy would eat. We all got lots of water.

We were sitting at a table when a tall woman whose shoes made a clacking sound marched up to us. Three guys in dark suits who looked like Agent Brown were behind her.

The Lump wiped his beard and jumped up. “Director. This is Tom and Ronnie.”

She squatted down to pat Buddy. “And who are you, you adorable cocker spaniel, you?” The dirty little dog licked her hand. I could see she liked that.

“That's Buddy,” said Ronnie.

“What a sweetheart,” said the director. But she was looking at Ronnie, studying him hard.

Finally, she stood up. “And the famous Tom.” She gave me a once-over. “On TV, you look more muscular.”

She scared me. She seemed really tough. And smart. I tried a mind probe but hit cement.

“Good work, Agent Novak,” she said to the Lump. “The other two kids are on their way. We're planning liftoff at zero dark thirty.”

“We'll be ready,” said the Lump.

She gave Ronnie and me another round of once-overs, then broke off a piece of the Lump's hamburger and bent over to feed it to Buddy. The little traitor
smiled
at her. She bent over farther and kissed the top of his head before she clacked off.

Ronnie rolled his eyes at me.

The Lump sat down. “Okay. We'll have a chance to talk before we go.”

“Go where? Talk about what?” I said.

The Lump sighed, and food dribbled out of his mouth onto his red whiskers. “Old times? Didn't we have fun when I lived in your house?” he said.

“You kidding? It was a totally crummy experience,” I said.

“How's your mom?”

“Stepmom.”

“Nice lady. How is she?” He kept smiling as though he wanted to make a friendly connection.

“Who knows? She's traveling for her job all the time.”

“Your grandpa takes good care of you.”

“What's on your mind, Lump?”

Ronnie gave me a strange look but the Lump just nodded. “Okay, how about this. Todd and Alessa are not critical to this operation. I'm their only hope. You cooperate or they evaporate.”

 

 

 

 

We need to do something now, Dr. Traum. They're in trouble.

The Primary People do not intervene, John. You know that.

I know it's wrong not to take responsibility for what we've done.

As your sons would say: whatever.

I'll make a deal with you.

You're a prisoner, in no position to bargain.

I will promise to give up the rebellion forever if you keep the boys and their friends safe.

I can only promise to send them help now.

That's good enough, Dr. Traum. The twins can do the rest.

EDDIE

EN ROUTE TO SOMEWHERE IN NORTHERN VIRGINIA

2012

 

H
OP
on, Eddie.