The Twin Powers Page 14

I woke up. It was morning. Ronnie was already up, staring at the last burning embers of a fire.

  “Did you start this?” she asked.

  “No, but I had the weirdest dream,” I said.

  “What’s that?” she asked, pointing.

  Neatly folded on the ground were two long white shirts.

  “It wasn’t a dream,” I said softly. “The Council came down to tell me I had to stop the atomic explosion today.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Ronnie grinned at me. “You’ll figure it out, Tom. You always do.”

  We scattered the embers of the fire, rolled our blankets, and put on the long white shirts. I could feel the heat reflecting off the desert as the sun rose.

  The hill we had camped against turned out to be one in a line of hills that rose into a mountain. We headed north through a canyon and into another part of the desert that looked like a huge lake of sand.

  There were giant signs on poles dug into the sand.

  NO ADMITTANCE

  CULEBRA DE CASCABEL

  ATOMIC TESTING GROUNDS

  Fifty-one

  EDDIE

  WASHINGTON, D.C.

  2012

  THE covered wagon was parked near the Washington Monument, and Grandpa was sitting on the front seat. He winked and nodded at the seat next to him.

  Get on. Be cool.

  I swallowed down all the questions I had for him. What happened? Where’d he been? Where’d I been?

  I had a headache. I remembered jumping on the back of Hercules’s bike, but that seemed like days ago. I remembered Dad and Riverboat and speaking to the Council and the trip to Homeplace and how much my head had hurt from trying to remember those names and numbers in New Mexico for Tom.

  New Mexico. Tom and Ronnie were there. On EarthTwo in 1958. How did I know that?

  I climbed up onto the front seat. One of the Browns started the SUV and the wagon began to move. A Brown was walking along on each side of the wagon. They talked into their sleeves. “We are moving.”

  I felt peculiar, as if I was there and not there.

  Grandpa nudged me. You’re here and you’re not here. Get used to it.

  Erin hurried up alongside the wagon. “We were so worried about you, Tom. What was going through your mind?”

  “About what?”

  “Jumping on that motorcycle,” she said. “Thank goodness you had that helmet on.”

  “Who was that biker guy?” asked a Brown.

  “What biker guy?” I said. He must mean Hercules.

  “He doesn’t remember anything,” said Erin. “It’s common after a coma.”

  “A coma?” I said.

  “You were in a coma for twenty-four hours,” said Erin. “In the hospital for three days.”

  I floated a thought to Grandpa. What’s up?

  Primary People can be two places at the same time, Eddie, remember?

  Homeplace and the hospital?

  Right.

  Like when you were in the nursing home on EarthOne with Tommy and living with me on EarthTwo?

  That’s it, Eddie.

  How can that be?

  One is really you and one is your projection, your hologram.

  How can I tell the difference, Grandpa?

  Takes concentration and practice, Eddie.

  What am I now?

  Figure it out.

  I pinched myself. It hurt. I was me.

  “So who was the biker?” the same Brown asked again.

  I shrugged at him but slipped a thought into his mind. That was Injun Joe. I was following him. He murdered Dr. Robinson.

  “What?” The Brown turned to the other Brown, who gave him a funny look.

  Now, this is super groovy, I thought. I can keep them off balance. I wondered if I could mess with the minds of linebackers blitzing me. C’mon, Eddie, no football right now.

  “We were so scared when you fell off,” said Erin.

  “I fell off?”

  “We told the media you were exhausted,” said Erin.

  I nudged Grandpa. Am I somewhere else now, too?

  Your hologram is heading to Culebra de Cascabel.

  I’m going too.

  The Browns were muttering about the murder of a doctor named Robinson all the way back to the White House. Let’s hear it for Mark Twain!

  Fifty-two

  BRITZKY

  CULEBRA DE CASCABEL, N.M.

  1958

  THE slip from Homeplace to EarthTwo was a lousy ride, two hours that felt like two days of chills and nausea before we were dumped out onto the desert. The flu symptoms disappeared the moment we landed, but then the heat dropped over us like plastic bags.

  Alessa and I were standing on a hill overlooking a canyon that cut through a mountain and ended in an ocean of sand. There were huge signs in the desert.

  NO ADMITTANCE

  CULEBRA DE CASCABEL

  ATOMIC TESTING GROUNDS

  “We better get out of here,” said Alessa.

  “Too late.”

  I pointed down. A caravan of army trucks and jeeps, even a tank, rumbled over the sandy road through the canyon, sending up clouds of dust. Soldiers with guns walked alongside.

  A helicopter was clattering up ahead. It made so much noise and churned up so much sand that we didn’t see Eddie suddenly appear next to us. Buddy was at his feet.

  “Wassup, dudes?”

  “Eddie,” screamed Alessa, throwing her arms around him. All she got was air.

  “Hologram,” I said. “Where’s the real Eddie?”

  “He’ll be here,” said Eddie. “Look!”

  Below us, the army caravan had come out of the canyon onto the desert floor and stopped.

  Ronnie and Tom were blocking the way.

  “What are they doing?” asked Alessa.

  “Trying to stop the testing,” said Eddie.

  “They can’t,” said Alessa. “It already happened.”

  “Not on this planet,” I said.

  “Even if they stop it for today,” she said, “what about the future?”

  “Who knows? You ever hear of the butterfly effect?” I said.

  “Some little thing causes bigger things to happen and changes history,” said Eddie. “Like if they don’t test today, maybe they’ll have a meeting and decide atomic bombs are a bad thing.”

  “How’d you know that?” I said.

  “You think you’re the only person who knows anything?” said Alessa.

  I didn’t want to say it out loud, but I thought, Well, most of the time . . .

  “Hey,” shouted Alessa.

  Eddie and Buddy were racing down the mountain toward the caravan.

  We ran after them.

  Fifty-three

  TOM

  CULEBRA DE CASCABEL, N.M.

  1958

  A GUY with a gold braid on his Smokey Bear hat got out of a jeep and started walking toward us.

  “I’m Colonel Kirby Yorke of the United States Army,” he yelled. “You kids can’t be here.”

  A voice that sounded like Dr. Traum said to me, Speak for the Primary People, Thomas.

  I was scared. I wished I had my Extreme-Temperature Narrow-Beam Climate Simulators. All I had was my mind.

  You can do it, Tommy. That was Dad.

  “Move out, kids.” The colonel swung his arm. Everything—his men and the tank and the jeeps and trucks—arranged themselves in a row facing us.

  Ronnie nudged me. “There’s Eddie! And Buddy.”

  They were skidding down the mountain as if they were sand surfing. I was so happy to see my brother. I was even happy to see that dog. But I had to work fast.

  I imagined a powerful voice. It came out of my mouth like a bullhorn. “That’s far enough, Colonel. There will be no atomic testing today.”

  “Who are you?” he yelled.

  The row of army vehicles started coming toward us. A helicopter circled above us.

  I imagined the helicop
ter descending, then tilting so that its whirling blades churned the air a few feet off the desert floor. Giant plumes of sand rose like geysers in front of me and Ronnie.

  “Groovy,” said Eddie, appearing beside me. “Dig this.”

  The sand geysers began to sway like hula dancers.

  “Cool,” I said. I was trying to imagine what I could do to top the hula dancers when I saw Alessa and Britzky running toward us. “Ronnie! Get them out of the way, behind the rocks. You too.”

  She hesitated until Eddie said, “Yeah, we’ve got a plan.”

  What plan, Eddie?

  I figured you had one.

  We waited until Ronnie, Alessa, and Britzky were out of sight before we let the sandstorm subside.

  Now it was just the two of us facing the colonel and his advancing army. And I could tell it was only Eddie’s hologram.

  “That’s far enough, Colonel,” I roared.

  The line kept moving closer. We could see the faces of the soldiers.

  “Yo, Smokey,” Eddie roared. “You heard my homey.”

  Do you have to talk like that? said Dr. Traum. This is about the fate of the world.

  We’re doing it our way, Eddie and I said together. We high-fived. It’s twin time.

  “I said, who the hell are you?” boomed the colonel.

  “We represent the people of the Earths who don’t want the Doomsday Clock to hit midnight,” we said.

  “You’re just two little boys interfering with the federal government of these United States of America.”

  Just two little boys? Eddie and I looked at each other and got the same idea at the same time. Twin-sense! How about more little boys?

  When we finished laughing, there were four of us.

  One of the Eddies said, Can we make more?

  My hologram said, You’re not as dumb as you look.

  I said, I think we can make as many holograms as we want.

  Let’s find out.

  My head really hurt, but then there were eight of us. And four Buddys!

  “We are from the Primary People,” I boomed, “and we have come to stop the atomic testing. It will only lead to more war and suffering and the destruction of the planet.”

  “You are all under arrest.”

  All sixteen of us? And eight Buddys?

  Count me in, said the real Eddie, popping up beside me.

  We’re all real, said one of my holograms.

  Whatever, said the real Eddie.

  There were thirty-two of us and sixteen Buddys.

  “Now, you listen to me, you misguided do-gooders,” yelled the colonel. “I don’t care what kind of tricks you think you’re playing, but you have thirty seconds to clear this area before we take you by force.” He signaled the tank to aim its gun at us.

  At all sixty-four of us? And thirty-two Buddys?

  “Detail,” roared the colonel. “Forward, ho-oh.”

  Sounds like John Wayne.

  Does that make us the Indians?

  Whatever.

  Fifty-four

  RONNIE

  CULEBRA DE CASCABEL, N.M.

  1958

  “WHAT’S going on?” said Alessa.

  “I don’t know,” said Britzky.

  That was a first.

  I didn’t know either.

  The row of trucks and jeeps, with the tank in the middle and the soldiers behind, moved over the desert toward Tom, Eddie, and Buddy and their three holograms. The six of them looked so small.

  The colonel, the guy in the Smokey Bear hat, was marching by himself up front. He looked as if he thought he was the hero in a movie.

  The whole thing looked like a movie.

  Except I was scared.

  “This is your final warning,” yelled the colonel. “Leave the area immediately. All of you.” He ran his pointing finger across the horizon.

  Britzky said, “Could he be seeing more of them than we do?”

  “Like imaginary Toms and Eddies and Buddys?” said Alessa. “In their minds?”

  “We’re staying right here until you call off the test,” yelled Eddie.

  Somehow I could tell he was the real Eddie, not a hologram Eddie. I felt so proud of him. And then I remembered that he didn’t know the truth about me.

  One of the two Toms waved his arms, and the gun on the tank rose up and pointed at the helicopter. It flew away.

  The soldiers began whirling around suddenly, as if they were being surrounded by hundreds of Toms, Eddies, and Buddys in a giant circle.

  “I wish we could see this,” said Britzky.

  “Then the twins would be controlling your mind too,” I said.

  “Be worth it.”

  The soldiers dropped their guns and began to dance in the circle we couldn’t see.

  “Let’s go,” shouted Alessa. Britzky and I followed her out from behind the rocks. The real Tom and Eddie ran out to meet us. They grabbed our arms and pulled us into the circle.

  “How many are there?” I asked Tom.

  “A couple hundred,” said Tom. “I lost count.”

  “Why can’t we see them?”

  “They’re in the soldiers’ heads.”

  I didn’t know how long we danced and sang, but the heat was leaving the desert and night was beginning to fall when we fell too, exhausted.

  The colonel never joined us. He just plopped down onto the sand and cried.

  Suddenly, the soldiers began screaming and racing back to their trucks and jeeps as if they were being chased by . . . rattlesnakes!

  Because they were!

  Dozens of snakes burst out of the sand and began slithering forward, rattling.

  “That is so brilliant,” said Britzky. “What powers!”

  “They’re real,” screamed Tom and Eddie. They were paralyzed.

  I remembered the flares in the backpacks we had carried from the plane. I made a circle of flares around us and lit them. The snakes stayed outside the circle of fire.

  I was standing in the light of one of the flares, feeling proud of myself, when Eddie took a hard look at me and said, “Why are you dressed like a girl?”

  Very impressive.

  It seems like the Earths have earned another chance, Dr. Traum.

  What do you have in mind, John?

  Hold up on the decision for a year. See what else they can do.

  Let me talk to the Council. I have a feeling they can be persuaded.

  Fifty-five

  TOM

  CULEBRA DE CASCABEL, N.M.

  1958

  WE were sitting in the sand around a fire, sharing the food we had taken from the plane, when Grandpa suddenly appeared like a mirage in the desert. I couldn’t tell if it was him or his hologram.

  “Good news,” he said. “The testing was called off. The Council was very impressed. You bought the Earths another year of survival.”

  “Yesss!” said Britzky, jumping up. He grabbed Alessa and Ronnie. The three of them hopped up and down.

  “Not so fast,” said Grandpa. “You’re going to have to do much more in the next year to convince them further, and you’re going to have to do it here on this planet. We can’t take the chance right now of sending anybody back to 2012. Those two agents, Mathison and Quinn, are in Washington. With the Lump and the director. They know Tom and Eddie are twin halfies.”

  Britzky and Alessa looked at each other and dropped their heads. I could feel their gloom.

  “Don’t feel bad,” I said. “It would have come out. You guys are great.”

  That was nice. For Tom.

  I traced the thought to Ronnie. If she felt a tickle in her mind, she didn’t scowl at me.

  “Will we ever get back home?” said Alessa.

  “Hard to say,” said Grandpa. “Might depend on what you do here.”

  “Just think,” I said, “you won’t have to give that report on the tour to the middle-school assembly.”

  Nobody cracked a smile at that. I could sense dark clouds in the minds of Brit
zky and Alessa. They were feeling sad about their families, wondering when they would see them again. I thought about my stepmom. I had barely thought about her in the past week, so much had happened. I knew she cared about me. I would find a way to get a message to her, to Alessa’s and Britzky’s families, too. Don’t worry. We’re all right. Just busy saving the world.

  Grandpa stood up. “We better get going. There’s a small vehicle in Friendship One we can use to get out of this area after we blow up the spacecraft. Can’t let the 1958 space-agency guys find a 2012 rocket ship.”

  I looked over at Eddie. He hadn’t eaten much—he was just holding on to Buddy and staring down.

  You okay?

  How could he lie to me for so long?

  It’s she.

  Whatever. Eddie was having a hard time with Ronnie as a girl. He had barely talked to her or looked at her.

  “He’s old-fashioned,” said Alessa to me, noticing Eddie’s unhappiness. “It’s going to take him a while.”

  “It’s no big deal,” said Britzky. “I always thought Ronnie was a girl.”

  Ronnie smiled. “If you’re so smart,” she said, “what are we going to do now?”

  “Lots to do on this planet,” said Britzky. “Check the timeline. We could be freedom riders.”

  “Freedom riders?” repeated Ronnie.

  “They rode buses in the South to fight against racial segregation,” said Alessa.

  “Count me in,” said Ronnie.

  “It’s dangerous,” said Grandpa. “People get killed fighting for what’s right.”

  I said, “Mark Twain said, ‘The trouble is not in dying for a friend, but in finding a friend worth dying for.’”

  I liked the way everybody looked at me and gave me a fist or a thumbs-up. Except for Eddie. He just sat there, cross-legged in the sand. I couldn’t get into his mind. Lockdown.

  I went over and gave him a light punch on the shoulder. Buddy growled at me. Trying to get Eddie to smile, I yelled, “Raiders rule!”

  Eddie sighed but he didn’t look up. I wasn’t sure why he felt so hurt. I guess I’m still not a touchy-feely guy.