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Authors: Carolyn Keene

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BOOK: Cutting Edge
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“I wish I had seen the performance that got that last round of applause,” Nancy said. “They must have been spectacular.”

“They were,” Mike told her, leaning over. “And you
can
see them. Watch the Optoboard.”

Nancy gazed out into the arena to where the Optoboard was suspended from the ceiling. Highlights of the last performance came on the huge, slightly concave screen, in a dazzling three-dimensional display. “That's amazing,” Nancy said, her blue eyes fixed on the screen.

“I've got to see how that thing works,” Mike announced excitedly, standing up. “Come on,” he said to them. “Let's check out the control room.”

“Are we allowed in?” George asked. “I mean, don't they have security guards or something?”

“No problem,” Mike told her. “I know the guy who runs the board. We went to school together.”

“Don't you have work to do?” George wondered out loud.

“Me?” Mike opened his eyes wide. “Nah. I never work.” Then he laughed. “No, really, I'm just hanging around till later. I've got a sound check to do, but I have to wait for the arena to empty out. Dinnertime, I figure.” He winked at Nancy. “Otherwise, I would have asked you to join me for a bite.”

Nancy grinned. “Thanks,” she said. “I'm flattered, but Ned wouldn't appreciate it. George and I
would
like to see the Optoboard, though.”

“Ned?” Mike repeated. “Oh, I see.
Ned.
As in, you have a boyfriend.” He sighed. “Oh, well, let's go check out that Optoboard, anyway, okay?”

On the way there, Mike said, “According to my friend, the whole Optoboard system operates on a specially designed circuit board smaller than your hand.

“Some little thing, some mere thingamajig,” he went on, staring at his palm as if the circuit board were in it, “is what all the fuss is about.”

At the control room door, Mike grinned at the security guards. “Could you tell Rob that Mike Campo is here to see him?” he asked.

The guards nodded, and one of them went inside. In a moment he came back out, followed by a thin, pale young man wearing aviator glasses.

“Mike, you dog!” he shouted, clapping Mike around the shoulders. Lowering his voice, he said, “I'm not supposed to let anybody in, but I
suppose I can make an exception for you.” Then he noticed Nancy and George, too.

“Don't worry,” Mike said with a chuckle. “Nancy and George don't want to steal anything. As great as this board is, none of us would have any use for it at home. George and Nancy, this is Rob.”

“Hi, Rob,” Nancy said. “Do you work for Trish O'Connell's father?”

“Yup,” the technician answered. “Step inside.” He led them into a smallish booth, then closed the door behind them. On a large table that took up almost the entire space sat a small computer terminal.

“So this is what all the fuss is about?” Mike said, pointing to the terminal.

“This
is it,” Rob answered with a grin. Bending down, he pointed to a box attached to the underside of the countertop. “The circuit board with its newly developed chips fits right in this little slot here.”

“Unbelievable,” Mike said, shaking his head.

“Hey! Check this out,” George said, gazing out the window at the ice below. “That couple is incredible! They're a brother-and-sister team from Idaho.”

Following George's gaze, Nancy watched the couple in red-and-black harlequin outfits, gliding on the ice at breakneck speed to a fast-paced classical violin piece.

As Nancy and the others watched, the music slowed and changed to a romantic tango. The
two skaters drifted apart, then drew together effortlessly. After a number of dazzling jumps and spins, the two ended their routine in a brilliant flourish, with the man supporting his partner above his head and spinning rapidly. When he set her down, she landed in a full split, and the music ended.

“Not bad, huh?” Rob said admiringly.

“What are their names?” Nancy asked.

She never got an answer to her question. At that very moment the entire arena was plunged into utter, pitch-black darkness!

Chapter

Five

W
HAT HAPPENED
?” Nancy asked in the darkness.

“It must be some sort of power outage,” George said beside her. The blackness was so complete Nancy couldn't even make out her friend's silhouette.

Through the Plexiglas, Nancy heard an anxious buzzing from the arena. “This is very weird,” Mike said. “The audience must be freaked.”

“Maybe we blew the master circuit breaker,” Rob suggested. “But I don't know why.” Soft clicking noises told Nancy he was flicking control
switches on and off. “I'm not getting anything,” he said. “Could the whole town be having a blackout? Maybe there's a storm going on outside or something?”

“It didn't look stormy when we came in,” George told him.

“It's strange that someone isn't making an announcement,” Nancy observed. “A sports complex this sophisticated has to have an emergency system and plan, don't you think?”

“Of course,” Mike said.

“Hey, why don't you guys go see if you can find out what's happening?” Rob suggested. “There's a power room on this level.”

Nancy started digging in her purse. “I can't believe I don't have my penlight with me,” she groaned. “We'll have to do without.”

“Which way do we turn when we get out of here, Rob?” Mike asked.

“Left,” the technician answered. “When you get all the way around to the other end, it's almost all the way to the Worldwide press box. It's marked Danger.”

Immediately the image of the reporter with the foreign accent who had barreled out of that room flashed into Nancy's mind. “So that room's a power control room,” she said to George.

“Uh-oh,” George groaned. “I wonder if that guy who bumped into you was fooling around with something in there.”

“Come on,” Nancy said, groping her way to the door. “Let's go check it out.”

“Want to come with us?” Mike asked Rob.

“I have to stay here, no matter what,” the Optoboard operator replied. “Mr. O'Connell's orders.”

“Well, we'll let you know what's happening as soon as we can,” Nancy said, locating the door handle and heading out of the room. “Follow my voice,” she told the others. “I'm holding the door open.”

The hall, too, was in pitch-blackness, although two faint points of light could be seen bobbing toward them from around the bend. In the next second the source of the light became apparent as the two Optoboard security guards came back to their post. They moved nervously, their flashlights pointing every which way.

“I don't get this,” said the older of the two guards, a burly man with dark skin. “One side of this hallway farther on has lights, and the other doesn't.”

His partner, a pale, lanky man, nodded. “The lights are out by us, down the whole left side, and in the arena. But if you look at the right side down a ways, they're on!”

“We're going to the power room to check it out,” Mike told them.

“We're staying right here,” the older man said, crossing his arms in front of him. “I don't like this situation at all.”

Nancy, George, and Mike continued toward the power room, led by a dim light. By the time they reached it, two bright beams of light came
fully into view overhead. The emergency system was obviously working in this area.

“There's the power room,” Mike said. A small crowd of maintenance and security people were clustered around it. “I guess they're working on the problem. I'll go talk to one of them. Wait here, okay?” Mike said as he picked his way through the crush of people.

Just then the hall lights came on and the emergency lights faded out. Even in the corridor, Nancy and the others could hear the relieved murmur from the audience in the arena below. A small burst of applause followed.

From the speakers overhead came an announcer's voice. “Thank you for your patience, ladies and gentlemen. Our electrical problem has been cleared up and we will resume our program in five minutes.”

The cluster of people around the power control door quickly dispersed.

“Let's stick around a minute,” Nancy suggested as Mike walked back over to them.

The last one out of the room was a man with a large toolbox. He reached back to pull the door closed behind him. He hesitated after he closed the door, his hand still on the knob. “That's funny,” he said out loud.

“What's funny?” Nancy asked.

The man eyed her ID badge before he shrugged his shoulders and answered. “The door won't lock. Must be something wrong with it.”

“Let me have a look,” Nancy said, walking up
to the door. She quickly found the reason the door wouldn't lock. “The lock's been fixed to stay open,” she announced. “Look at this. It's been taped.”

“That explains it!” the man cried. “I thought it was funny that the master switch had been tripped like that and the door was open when we got here. This was obviously a case of sabotage.”

“Who'd want to sabotage a skating contest?” Mike wondered aloud.

“Somebody was trying to hurt some of the skaters before this,” George told him.

Mike seemed genuinely surprised. “You're kidding!” he said.

“Come on,” said Nancy to her friends. “We told Rob we'd let him know what we found out.”

On the way back Nancy noticed something sparkling on the carpet. “How did these get here?” she asked, bending down to pick up a half dozen or so shiny blue sequins.

As Nancy stood examining the sequins, one of the Optoboard guards came toward them from a hallway off to the left.

“What's going on?” Nancy asked. “Aren't you supposed to be guarding the control room?”

“During the blackout, we heard a woman screaming for help down that corridor,” the thin guard answered. “But when I went to check it out, I didn't find anybody!”

“Oh, no,” Nancy said, dread shooting through her. “We've got to get to Rob right away! He may be in danger!”

“In danger?” Mike was confused.

There was no time to answer him. Nancy flew around the final curve to the control room. She stopped short when she saw the burly guard slumped to the floor outside the room. The door was standing wide open.

“Rob?” Nancy called as she hurried into the booth. George and Mike were right behind her. There, her worst fears were confirmed. Rob was slouched limply over the keyboard of his computer.

“Rob!” Mike gasped loudly. “Rob!”

“Hmmm?” came the technician's muffled response.

A surge of relief rushed through Nancy. At least he was alive. Out in the hall, the thin guard tended to his partner, who was just coming to.

“Wha . . . ? What happened?” Rob murmured as Nancy, George, and Mike crowded around him.

“Judging from the lump on the back of your head, I'd say someone knocked you out,” Nancy told him.

“Whew.” Wincing, Rob felt the back of his head. “All I know is, I was sitting here one minute. Then the door opened and someone came in. I thought it was one of you—and, well, that's all I remember.”

The two guards came into the control room, the burly, older one rubbing his head. “I didn't see or hear a thing,” he said. “Whoever it was hit me from behind.”

The lanky guard angrily slammed his palm against the nearest wall. “I can't believe we fell for that trick!”

“We'd better get you two some ice for your heads,” George said to Rob and the guard.

All at once Rob seemed to forget about his injury. “Oh, no!” he cried loudly. “The board!” Picking up his head, he stared helplessly at the Optoboard. It was blinking strange patterns and snippets of incomplete information, as three-dimensional shapes jumped crazily across the screen.

“The circuit board,” Rob gasped. He reached under the countertop and unhinged the compartment that should have held the board. Instantly his shoulders sagged and he let out a low moan. “It's gone.”

“Oh, man,” the thin guard said, shaking his head in disgust.

“Do you know who'd want to steal that board, Rob?” Nancy probed.

Still staring at the board, Rob answered wearily, “You name it. There's a lot of money to be made from the board—and its special chips. All sorts of sleazy business types would love to have it without paying for it. That's why we had this elaborate security system!”

Rob turned to Nancy. “How long were you guys gone?”

“About ten minutes,” Mike answered for her.

“And I was conscious for probably the first five or so,” Rob said. “So whoever konked me knew
exactly where to look for the chip. But how?” He rubbed the back of his head. “How did they know?”

“Does this kill the use of the board completely?” Mike asked.

BOOK: Cutting Edge
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