Planet Heist (The Dunham Archives Book 1) (27 page)

What was really worrisome would happen if we were frisked. On the outside, we looked like civilians of our planets, but if a guard felt the arms of Rowan and I, they would know we weren’t who we said. Neoli’s generally have very baggy skin and flimsy bodies, while Daxans have little or no muscle. Rowan and I, on the other hand, have typical Saizian bodies of hidden, rock hard muscles.

If we lay as low as possible, there would be no need to frisk us.

Anyways, we all walked in different groups, so we wouldn’t be conspicuous. It would be odd to see a mayor, and Italian heiress, a regular Daxan teenager, and a Neoli peasant all walking into the Saizian National Archives together.

Rowan and I walked together, since Daxa, Saize, and Neoli are all planets in the same orbit, thus leading them to be friends in trade, with a lot of inter-planetary relations going on. Ross and Iesleen had explicit instructions to stay away from us and each other. It was critical to fly under the radar.

“So, are we going to go exploring through the Institute before the tunnels. To, you know, fit in?” Rowan asked.

“It’s okay to admit that you just want to see the floor of ancient instruments. You’ve wanted to since we were little.” I smiled, talking with a lisp from the braces.

He chuckled to himself, “You’re right, of course.”

“I suppose we could wander around a bit, check out some of the exhibits. Plus, we’d have to go through the music hall to get to the touring area, so you can take a look around.” I shrugged.

“Awesome!” He grinned like an idiot.

We reached the first guard and he gave us a friendly look.

“Identification, please.” He said. He had a tenor voice that seemed louder than normal.

I rifled through my bag, and Rowan felt around in his backpack.

I pulled out my card, which said the name of the girl I had gotten the blood from – Bina Hazool. Both her first and last name was very common on Daxa. Rowan’s impressively faked driver’s license read ‘Noan Luca,’ another common name among Neoli peasants. I also handed him the permission slips signed by the Prime Minister.

We handed them over to the guard, and he examined them under a light.

“Sorry for all the hassle. It’s all this nonsense about that little girl trying to break in here.” He shook his head.

“It’s almost laughable, don’t you think. She’s only…what? Fifteen?” I laughed.

“Yeah. Well, have a lovely trip in.” He said, and handed our IDs back. He held the same conversation with Iesleen, and then with Ross.

I was trying not to walk like myself – with a lithe, stalking gait – while we walked up to the doors.

The lobby was bright orange, with massive, abstract statues dangling from the high, glass ceiling. There was a line, airport-security style, up to high-tech metal detectors and 3-D scanners. The technology was state-of-the-art, detecting even scant amount of metal anywhere from the zippers on jeans to the lead in bombs. It was, of course, desensitized to the iron in human, Saizian, and Daxan blood. Then everyone would set it off, and it would simply be ridiculous.

Next to the metal detectors were conveyer belts that brought bags through scanners, where officials would check for anything that strikes them as suspicious – from any of the fourteen-hundred chemicals in bombs to something as simple as a knife – that could be used to impale or break anything.

Nervously, I placed my bag on the conveyor belt, dropped any visible metals into a bin, and stepped through. As planned, it went off. A shrill beep sounded from the metal detector, and the operator looked worried. She was Daxan, with features almost matching to mine, but with deeper purple hair that showed her age.

“Honey, do you have on any metal, or anything dangerous, on you?” Her voice had a southern twang that made her sound pleasant.

“Oh!” I faked surprise expertly, “My braces!”

I smiled, showing off the purple studs, and she nodded sympathetically.

“That’ll do it. Wore mine for years – it was a pain going to work. Go on through.”

It was the first victory of the day. This meant I still had my dagger and my universal lock-picker.

Next, we went to a station where they took DNA samples.

“What’s best, hun? Cheek swab, eye scan, or finger prick?” An accommodating girl said from behind the counter.

“Finger prick.” I said. She took my hand and poked it with a needle. I winced as she put it into a computer scanner.

My fake identity came up on screen, and the lady looked between the photo and me. It was a flawless match, and she nodded.

“Alrighty! Just make your way to the questioning room.” She smiled and pointed down to a room three doors down. I strutted off, nervous. This was crucial, as Iesleen or Rowan’s memory could fail at the last minute and they won’t say the right answers pertaining to their fake identities.

I opened the door and stepped in.

It was dimly lit like a stereotypical interrogation room, with a single desk and lamp at the far corner. A speedy, custom laptop sat atop the desk. A burly, scarred police officer behind the desk beckoned me over and pulled up my fake files on the screen.

I answered each question effortlessly.

“Full name?”

“Bina Laku Hazool.”

“Age?”

“Nineteen.”

“Siblings?”

“None.”

“Current location?”

“Zara, Minko, Planet Daxa.”

There were seventy more questions, each unremarkably typical interrogatory questions.

It took over an hour, but, eventually, I was out. I waited on the other side for Rowan. He made it through without a hitch, and we took up our bags. I made a point of lagging around in the lobby so we could lead Ross and Iesleen through the complex building. Rowan walked up to the front desk and asked for a map, simply for the sake of wasting time. Obviously, all four of us had memorized the layout of the building in the past week.

He pretended to look it over thoughtfully, pointing to exhibits he’d like to see.

“The hall of ancient instruments is to the left,” He noted excitedly. What he pointed to on the map, though, was a bathroom near the entrance to the tunnels. There we could take off our disguises. I didn’t want us to make the crime of the millennia with ridiculous façades on.

“Great. We better make sure to stop there.” I replied.

Then, Ross and Iesleen stepped out of the detectors and followed us to the elevators, which had massive maps on the doors. Once inside, I pressed the button to go down one level to the floor where most of the exhibits were. Several others stepped in with us, and we rode down in silence.

Ross looked nervous, the worry lines painted on his forehead suddenly real, until we reached the floor.

“Alright Row,” I whispered, “let’s go to the music hall. Iesleen will probably enjoy it, too, though I don’t see why.”

He followed me through the dim halls filled with exhibits on all kind of technology from this solar system. I almost stopped when we passed a model of how the Rizer worked. It was a step-by-step of how the massive ball of energy was created and shot out in a matter of moments.

All the exhibits were intriguing, but I refused to stop. Finally, we reached the hall of ancient instruments. At the end of this hall and down another was the entrance to the tour of the first level of the tunnels – the only one that the public was allowed to see.

The room was a massive, banquet hall type place with red walls where they were visible at all. In about one hundred glass cases sat all the instruments that had something to do with Saizian history – instruments that signaled the starts and ends of wars or played at the inauguration of important Prime Ministers. They were beautifully crafted in all different shapes and sizes.

Somehow
, Rowan and Iesleen ended up next to each other, gawking at each exhibit.

I spent time educating myself on the one instrument I wasn’t familiarized with in the room. It was a huge white woodwind with silver knobs, shaped like a massive spiral. The mouthpiece faced in, like the player was intended to stand inside the massive whirl of the instrument. I read the blurb, simply to take my mind of the soon-to-be stress inducing situation. Apparently, it was a Kana used to signal the victory of Saize in its only civil war, and that was its only purpose.

After that, I waited six agonizing minutes for my brother and Iesleen to finish gazing with awe at everything. When they were finished, though, I led them to the bathrooms Rowan had pointed to on the map. Ross and Rowan headed into the men’s and Iesleen and I went to the ladies’.

It was a deserted pink room with sinks in the front and toilets in the back, separated by a tile wall. There were two hideous paisley armchairs and a glass coffee table. Pushed up against the last wall was a three-shelf cabinet with decorative bowls and flowers behind a glass pane. On the wall was a painting of a bright orb that confused me. On one side of the orb were totally wilted flowers, and on the other side were bright, lively pink flowers that matched the wall. I shrugged it off and turned towards the sink.

There were no cameras in the room, as it was against Saizian law to commit technical voyeurism. That little law was helping me immensely right now. I pulled one of the disgusting chairs, which was surprisingly heavy, and pushed it directly in front of the door, functionally blocking anyone from coming in. I prayed my brother was smart enough to do the same.

“You’re lucky you’re a girl,” I told Iesleen.

She gave me a confused look, “What do you mean?”

“I have all the tools to get off your make-up and your nose, while Rowan and Ross will have to struggle.” I explained.

She smiled, “Do you really wear fake noses when you go anywhere?”

“Normally I just wear sunglasses and change up my hair and makeup. But, in such a high tension situation where everyone’s looking for my face in a crowd, it’s necessary.” I told her with a shrug, “Look at me.”

She did as I asked, and I used a plastic tool to carefully ply off her fake nose. She winced during the last part, but shook it off. She pulled out her contacts and put them down the sink.

“Alright, I’m going to need your help now.” I said to her calmly.

She nodded confidently.

“I need you to break the glass on that cabinet and take out the bowl. Then, fill it with water and help me wash my hair out.” I told her.

She nodded again. Using only her bandaged knuckles, she quietly smashed a hole in the glass and pulled out a bowl.

Iesleen filled it with warm water from the sink, “
You’re
lucky I took cosmetology. Get onto your knees and put your head in the sink.”

I listened to her and felt the warm water fall on my head. My eyes shut tight automatic-ally to keep out the chemical dye. Getting those kinds of chemicals in my eyes would leave my vision completely shot and I would lose one of my most valuable assets.

When she was finished, I pulled my head up. The dye was swirling down the drain, and my hair was dirty blond. I rifled through my bag and pulled out the pen-sized hair dryer and clicked it on. Drying my hair as quickly as possible, it still took ten minutes to do. When I was finished, my hair was a bit wavier than normal. For some reason, it was very shiny and took the light, making it look much blonder than I was used to. Strange how doing something simple can make a huge difference.

It took six minutes to get all the lavender makeup off of my face and limbs. Then, I spent some time removing the yellow nail polish, and then got to work on my normal makeup. Bright silver eye-shadow that brought out the swirls in my eyes, blood red gloss, and shimmery mascara adorned my natural face. I slipped on some dangling, golden rose earrings with pink diamonds at the center. Then, avoiding crimped hair, pulled my now gold-ish hair back into a tight bun. I changed the yellow contacts to bright, spring green ones. The finishing touch that would throw off my look was a pair of silver glasses. In the mirror stood an alternate-looking version of myself.

Perfect,
I thought.

Next to me, Iesleen was painting on her face with brown eye-shadow and eyeliner with glittery pink gloss on her odd, round lips. She put on another pair of colored contacts, making her eyes dark brown. She pulled her long black hair up into a clip and put in a bright, flowery pin.

“Ready?” She whispered nervously.

“As ready as I'll ever be.” I sighed, “Let’s do this.”

She nodded at me.

She helped me push the chair back to where it was meant to be, simply to loosen tension, and we walked out together.

Rowan and Ross were waiting for us already. Both had in contacts that made their eyes blue – Rowan’s a deep, ocean blue and Ross’s an icy, chilling blue.

Ross squeezed my hand as we walked toward the touring line, where hundreds of eager tourists waited to see just a few of the traps guarding thousands of pieces of technology in the tunnels. They were from all over the universe – Daxans, Neoli, Saizians, and even a few humans stood in the packed line. I’d read an article recently about how, after it was discovered that I was planning to steal the Xeron, the Institute had a spike in attendance.