The Secret of Zoom (21 page)

Five yards away a gray-clad figure sat up abruptly, tossed the hair out of its eyes, and stared at Christina with an extremely dirty face.

“Taft?” Christina peered at him.

“Of course it's me, you doofus. Did you bring the plane?”

Christina nodded. “Come on,” she whispered, “hurry. And be quiet!”

Taft glanced over his shoulder and seemed to hesitate.

“We'll come back for Danny and the others later. I can only rescue one at a time. Hurry!”

Two stealthy figures crept up the cone-shaped hill. If a guard had glanced out at that moment, he would have been mystified to see them drop suddenly out of sight. And had he followed them up the hill and looked down through the hole that appeared at his feet, he would have seen an enchanting, glowing, beautifully violet plane circling down and around with two filthy children inside, and two anxious faces watching from below.

“C
HRISTINA,
you shouldn't have gone so high!” Coughing, Beth Adnoid put a hand to her chest as if it pained her. “It's much too dangerous!”

“But, Mom, there are all these orphans up there—Lenny's working them like
slaves
—”

“Orphans?” Her mother glanced up at the hole in the cavern. “Above us, now?”

“They've been there for
years
, Mom—”

Beth Adnoid's eyes were dark and troubled. “Just before the cave-in, I'd been asking questions . . . Lenny worked aboveground, while we were below, and I'd begun to suspect he was using children in a way he shouldn't.”

“He probably
caused
the cave-in,” said Christina hotly, “just to stop you from finding out!”

Her mother nodded. “But I had no idea the children were right above me all these years.” She reached for her daughter. “It was good of you to try to help them. All the same, what if Lenny had caught you? I just want to keep you safe, sweetheart.”

Christina glanced at Taft, who was standing in the shadows, unnoticed. How did it feel to him, she wondered, to know she had
two
parents who were desperate to keep her safe, while he and the rest of the orphans had no one at all? It hardly seemed fair.

All at once Beth Adnoid was bent double, coughing violently. Christina stepped back. What was wrong? Was her mother sick?

Taft was on her other side, now, and Leo hurried to the far end of the cave, where trickling water ran over rock and out through a crack in the floor, and cupboards made of packing cases stood braced.

He came back at a trot. “Here,” he said, holding out a flat glass bottle and a spoon. “Her medicine.”

Christina looked at the bottle's contents and then at Leo. Behind her, Beth Adnoid was wheezing.

“Come
on
!” cried Taft. “Why don't you pour it?”

Christina handed the bottle to Taft without a word.

Taft shook it, held it upside down over the spoon. A few dried flakes of something brown fell out. He looked up.

“Here, like this.” Leo took the bottle, poured an imaginary dose, and pushed the empty spoon at Beth Adnoid. “Take your medicine, my dear.” He leaned in, agitated. “It will do you good! Take it, take it, take it!”

Christina's mother reached out blindly for the spoon and tipped it against her mouth, as if swallowing.

Leo nodded happily. “She'll be better soon, you'll see.” He fished a wrench out of his back pocket and trotted off toward the wide tunnel that branched from the main cavern. In a few
moments, a gentle clinking could be heard and a tuneless whistle.

Taft's eyes slid sideways to meet Christina's. “Who was
that
?” he whispered.

“Leo Loompski.”

“No kidding?” Taft nodded toward the sound of clanking metal. “He's gone a little nuts, though, hasn't he?”

“More than a little.” Christina looked worriedly at her mother, who was gasping for breath. “Come on, Taft. She needs to lie down, maybe.”

The cavern was lined with flat couches made of the same red leather that was used for the plane seats. Christina helped her mother lie back, and Taft found a blanket that he mounded into a pillow.

Beth Adnoid had stopped coughing at last, but her breathing was raspy. She raised her shoulders as Taft tucked the makeshift pillow underneath and looked a question at her daughter.

“Mother,” said Christina, “this is my friend Taft.”

Taft stood in the light of the wall lantern. He looked strangely old and gray—his hair dusty from the mines, his face gray with smudges and fatigue. His eyes, too, were gray, with their unusual rim of thick lashes, and when he turned his gaze on Beth Adnoid, she reared back on her couch, visibly startled.

Taft took a step back into the shadows. “I know I'm dirty,” he mumbled, swatting the dust from his pants.

Beth Adnoid held out her hand, smiling faintly, and after a moment's hesitation, Taft leaned forward and grasped it.

“I'm very glad to meet you,” Christina's mother whispered. “Taft—surely that isn't your whole name?”

Taft flushed. “I'm from the orphanage. They only use our last names there. Or our numbers,” he added, looking away.

Beth Adnoid gazed at him, her eyes thoughtful. “Tell me about yourself, Taft. Do you have a favorite subject in school?”

Taft kept his head down. “Math,” he mumbled. “But I haven't gotten very far.”

“Don't believe it,” Christina interrupted. “He helped me, and I learned more from him than I ever did from the dancing chickens.”

Beth Adnoid raised an eyebrow.

“It's a computer program,” said Taft. He looked up once more. “I just taught her some of the basics. She learned fast.”

Christina's mother raised herself on one elbow. “And what is your first name?”

Taft blinked. “I'm pretty sure—I mean, I think it might be Peter.”

Christina's mother nodded, as if she had expected this. “Do you remember your parents at all, Peter?”

Taft rocked a little, back and forth. “I remember someone tossing me up and catching me. He was big—he had black hair—”

“That was your father.”

“—and someone who sang me a song about a little white duck, sitting in the water—”

“That was your mother.”

“—and I remember falling in a lake and someone got me out. And bright-colored stars. And some little kid was crying.”

“That was the picnic on Mossy Hill. You would have been about four, I think. You wandered too close to the lake, and your father fished you out, and there were fireworks when it got dark. Christina wasn't quite three, and she cried at the noise when they went off.”

Taft's eyes were dark and unbelieving in his grimy face.

“I remember your parents very well,” said Beth Adnoid gently. “John and Andrea Taft were scientists and our good friends. When they died in a car accident shortly afterward, Lenny Loompski made arrangements to take you to your nearest relatives. He
said
that's where he had taken you.” Her face grew stern. “We had no reason to disbelieve him . . . then.”

“But how can you be sure? How can you be
sure
it was me?”

Christina saw with dismay that one of his shoulders was beginning to hunch. She cast a pleading look at her mother.

“You have your mother's eyes,” said Beth Adnoid firmly. “Those gray eyes and thick, dark lashes are unmistakable. And your parents were both
very
good at math. I would have known you anywhere, even”—she paused and took out a handkerchief—“even with a dirty face.” She wiped at a bit of wetness that had just appeared on his dusty cheek.

“You made it worse,” said Christina, watching with a critical eye.

“I probably did,” said her mother. “You'll both need to wash. Go on—you'll find a bucket and soap and a place for washing behind the cupboards over there.”

Taft ran off at once. Christina lingered. “Do you,” she said, tracing a welt on the couch with her finger, “do you cough like that very often?”

“Oh, now and then. But don't worry, sweetheart.” Beth Adnoid laid a thin hand on Christina's arm. “When Lenny does supply drops, he brings medicine.”

Christina looked down. Her arm felt hot where her mother's hand touched it. Her mother had a bad cough, her breathing was too quick, she had a fever . . .

“How often does Lenny bring supplies?” Christina asked abruptly.

Beth Adnoid's eyes were shadowed. “Oh, often enough. Now go take your turn at the bathroom, and then you can stretch out on one of the couches. You must be tired to death.”

Christina
was
tired. She stood in front of the packing-case cupboards, waiting her turn with the bucket and soap. She wasn't used to staying up until the middle of the night.

Supper seemed a very long time ago. Were there any snacks in the cupboards? She lifted the flap over the first packing case and then the second. The third. The fourth.

Taft emerged from behind the cases with a clatter and set down the bucket. “I saw where your mother must have sent the messages from. There was this crack in the rock big enough for a test tube, but not much more—what's the matter?” he asked suddenly.

Christina jerked her chin at the packing cases. She couldn't speak.

Taft's gaze swept over the empty cupboards, bare of everything but dust. He jammed his hands in his pockets and whistled.

Christina pressed her lips in a straight and furious line. No
wonder her mom and Leo were so thin. Lenny Loompski was
starving
them.

 

“I'm feeling much better now,” said Beth Adnoid. She sat up, swaying slightly. “I was just wondering, Christina . . . do you think that plane would carry me, too?” The lamp's flicker caught at her eyes, and they gleamed. “I know you must be tired, but if I could get out tonight, I could go straight to the police and tell my story. We could get your father released and by morning we could have the whole town up in arms against Lenny, and rescue the orphans, as well.”

They tried it at once. Her mother wedged herself into the back seat, her legs dragging over one side, her eyes feverish and bright. Christina, desperate to get her mother home where there was food, sang the notes in order and got in the cockpit. She thought as hard as she could in her tired state—but the plane wouldn't even lift enough to hover.

Taft pointed to the control panel, which now read
WARNING! WEIGHT LIMIT EXCEEDED!

Beth Adnoid struggled to her feet, wheezing. “Well, it was worth a try. Tomorrow, Leo can make some modifications. Or we could somehow use two planes—”

“Stay here and rest, Mom. I'll ask him!” Christina ran to the tunnel where the fleet was kept, but Leo had climbed into a plane in the second row and fallen asleep, snoring gently. Though it was clear he had made the plane for someone his size—and he was very small for a man, hardly bigger than Taft—Christina thought it was still a tight fit. Maybe he had intended the planes for children? Or maybe it was just easier
to work on a smaller model. Someday, if his mind steadied again, she would ask him.

“Wow!” Taft lifted a lantern off its hook and held it high.

The small perfect planes stretched back into the darkness of the cave, looking like a patch of large silver watermelons that had sprouted wings. The red leather seats were free of dust, the windshield glass was clear and spotless; even the spare fuel canisters were in their holders near the tail. Christina was careful not to bump them as she went to shake Leo's shoulder.

But Leo proved impossible to awaken. Christina gave up and turned to Taft. “I could fly out now, by myself. I could find the police station and tell them everything.”

“They won't believe a kid, though.” Taft frowned. “And they'd probably call Lenny to come and get you, anyway. He had a court order, you said.”

Christina whirled and stalked across the sandy cavern floor. “Well, at least I can fly to my house and get a sack of food. They're
hungry
, Taft!”

Taft followed, looking troubled. “Except your mom will never let you go. She'll say it's too dangerous.”

Christina glanced at her mother, who was stooped over, unfolding two extra quilts on the red couches. “That's why I'm not going to even ask her,” she said, very low.

“Not going to ask me what?” Beth Adnoid turned, and put a hand on the wall to steady herself.

Christina froze. Her mother must have ears like a rabbit. “Um . . . sorry, but we couldn't wake Leo up,” she said at random.

“That's all right. We'll ask him to modify the planes in the morning. What was it you wanted to ask me, though?”

Christina's imagination failed her. She looked at Taft.

Taft grinned. “I
was
actually wondering something. If this was Leo Loompski's private lab, why doesn't it have electricity?”

Christina cast him a grateful glance.