Tracy Tam: Santa Command (5 page)

Those icicles stretched down just like a gate, but they didn't quite reach the surface of the water. Lifting up the hem of her coat, just in case, Tracy waded into the pretend pond. The illusion swirled around her ankles, but her assumption held true. There wasn't a single drop of water in that clearing.

When she got to the icicles, she looked closely at them, noticing each one had a thin, metal tube running the length of it. Yep, those icicles had a purpose. They certainly were real though. And cold.

She sat down in the “water” and sucked in a deep breath, holding it in puffed out cheeks. She knew she didn't need to, but the illusion was just so real. Then, she laid down and rolled under the wall of icicles.

On the other side, she sat up, still holding her breath. No alarms. No flashing lights to warn Santa of intruders. They had taken a great deal of care to create a fake world, but it didn't seem to go beyond that. Well, that was good at least. Tracy let out her breath and stood up.

From inside the cave, it was easy to find the stairs carved out of the wall at the back. She took one last look around to make sure there weren't any cameras or trip wires, then started down the stairs.

Tracy

Tracy stood at the top of a metal staircase high above the warehouse floor. A huge circular platform descended with a loud squeal into the center of the room. On it sat Santa in his now-empty sleigh, and his eight reindeer. Surrounding the platform were hundreds of gray metal shelves, each ten or fifteen feet high, stuffed with wrapped packages. The shelves stood in long, neat rows. Each row was labeled with a three digit number, reminding Tracy of the huge library downtown. Many of them were only half-full, or altogether empty. She assumed the presents were all for this year. That had been one of her points for the project. How did Santa fit all of those toys in his sleigh? Now she knew. He didn't. He reloaded.

On instinct, Tracy reached for her cell phone before remembering it wasn't there. She cursed herself for jumping off that stupid roof. She
needed
her phone, and she needed it
now
.

Or did she?

She didn't need her phone specifically, just a camera. And in a warehouse full of Christmas presents, there was bound to be dozens of them.

Tracy raced down the stairs and ducked into the first row she came to. She felt a moment of guilt for what she was about to do, but when she thought about Pim and the reason she was doing this, her actions seemed justified. Still, she didn't want to randomly start ripping apart boxes. She had to do this methodically. She quickly gathered a small pile of presents that were about the size and weight of a camera, then she started opening, peeling back just a little bit of paper so that it looked like it had been accidentally ripped. In the fourth box, she found exactly what she was looking for, a digital camera that came with batteries, so it didn't need to be charged. She clutched it to her chest and smiled, silently praising herself for her idea.

By the time Tracy had set up her new camera, the platform had disappeared behind the towering shelves, so she darted from aisle to aisle until she found a hiding place with a good view. She rounded a corner just in time to see a line of about twenty of those elf things marching single file to the sleigh, all wearing tiny yellow hard hats. The creatures each held a bundle of presents so large, they looked like ants carrying elephants.

She snapped a dozen pictures as one by one, the elves stepped onto a small black square on the platform beside the sleigh. Off to the side, another elf pressed a red button set into a control panel, and the square lifted to the top of the sleigh. There, the first elf arranged presents in one of Santa's red bags, then was lowered back to the platform.

The elves continued on, with their assembly line until Santa's sleigh was once again loaded. Through it all, Santa and his reindeer remained perfectly still, each of them wearing that same glazed over look that she'd seen on those figures in the wax museum she'd been to out in California. Her skin prickled as she imagined touching Santa's face and feeling nothing but lifeless wax.

No!
she reprimanded herself. There had to be a reasonable explanation for this. This was the longest night of the year for Santa. Maybe he was simply taking a quick nap. Her friend, Macy, had once brought a picture to school of her little brother sleeping with his eyes open. He looked pretty much like Santa did now, except she couldn't tell if Santa was drooling like Macy's brother did.

A few seconds later, the elf at the control panel punched another button. The ceiling opened again with a squeal of metal scraping metal, and the platform rose back into the night sky. As it rose, some stray pieces of the elves' yellow dust drifted off the sleigh and floated to the ground.

Once the ceiling shut, the elves all scuttled off in different directions.

Tracy slid the camera into her shirt pocket and made her way through the stacks. She could have climbed back up the way she'd come, but she was betting on there being a door somewhere that led back into Santa's house. She still believed Mrs. Claus was the person she needed.

As Tracy picked her way through the maze of shelves, she spotted a yellow dust spec sitting on one of the presents. It almost blended in with the gold foil wrapping paper, but the sparkle caught her eye. Always a scientist, she realized the opportunity when she saw it. Very carefully, she pinched the dust spec between her fingers. It felt warm, and it tingled between her fingertips. She couldn't wait to get back home and analyze it.

She pulled her neck pouch out from under her shirt and searched it for a plastic baggie. She had already contaminated her evidence by touching it. The sooner she had it in its own container, the better. She zipped the dust spec into the plastic bag, but she quickly realized her mistake. Once the dust touched the plastic, it started to glow. Then, it pulsed and expanded. She knew that certain chemicals reacted badly with others. Maybe something in the dust didn't agree with the plastic.

She wanted to open it and get that dust out, but the bag grew hot in her hands. Volcano hot. All she could think about, while the bag heated up and the dust expanded, was getting it out of her hands and getting away.

She quickly stuffed it into a crack between two presents and ran. Before she got halfway down the aisle, the bag exploded. There was no smoke or fire, but there was a loud bang and a gaping hole where about a dozen presents should have been.

She might have been worried that someone had heard the explosion, but at that exact moment, the ceiling split open again with a deafening squeal.

Tracy forgot about the dust and looked up. Santa couldn't be back already. Could he?

As she looked toward the ceiling, she knew she was wrong. Santa and his team were descending once again with an empty sleigh. She figured it had only been about a minute and a half since he left. That made no sense at all. In the half an hour she'd ridden with him, he hadn't managed to empty the sleigh.

Her mind was busy trying to come up with a logical explanation when she noticed Santa's beard. Less than a minute before, it had been as curly as a ribbon. Now, it was as straight as her own hair. Her mouth gaped open at the sight. She had just discovered another one of magic's “helping hands.”

“Impressive, isn't it?” said a voice behind her.

Santa Command—Loading Dock

December 25
^th

0054 hours

Phil stepped forward. Beth stood beside him. It was her fault Tracy had escaped the dressing room, so she insisted on coming along to help.

Tracy's eyes darted between Phil and Beth. It wasn't the kind of look children give when they're trying to come up with an excuse. Phil got the sense he was being studied, kind of like the personality test he'd endured when first coming to work for Santa Command. It unnerved him to be analyzed like that by a ten-year-old girl.

When Tracy was satisfied, she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I believe I have an appointment with Mrs. Claus.”

Phil had intended to utter some adult-sounding phrase like, “You shouldn't be in here,” grab her by the shoulders, and march her back to a safe zone where she wouldn't see anything “unusual.” But the self-assured tone in Tracy's voice made Phil's words fizzle out before they reached his lips. He clutched his hands in front of him, wishing for the comfort of a computer keyboard. His life's work involved squaring off with children, but he always did it from a behind a control panel. Going one-on-one was an entirely different skill. Fortunately, Beth was raising her eleven-year-old nephew and had no trouble handling the situation.

“Absolutely, but first,” she put her hands on Tracy's shoulders and turned her toward the door, “we need to get you out of here. None of us should be in here. It's a hard hat zone after all.” She tapped a yellow and black striped sign on one of the shelves confirming exactly what she said.

Phil followed behind them as Beth led Tracy into the hallway, half impressed by Beth's ability to do what he hadn't, and half shocked that Beth had promised Tracy she would meet Mrs. Claus. How did she plan on making
that
happen?

As they walked, Beth introduced both herself and Phil.

He mumbled a “Hello,” but otherwise didn't interrupt.

“How's your arm doing?” Beth asked.

“Um…” Tracy slid up the arm of her Santa coat. Her cast was a reminder that Phil was part of the reason she'd been injured. He was glad they were able to fix that at least. “Good, I guess.”

“Does it still hurt?”

Tracy poked the cast in several places. “No, not anymore.”

“Then, let's take that off.”

They all stopped in the hallway while Beth slid her finger inside the cast and pushed a button located near Tracy's wrist. The cast dissolved, leaving nothing but a freshly healed arm.

“Wow!” Tracy wiggled her fingers. “How'd you do that? Was it some sort of heat soluble fabric?”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Beth turned around and continued walking.

Tracy scrambled to catch up, her curiosity piqued. “That button you pushed. It must have sent heat through the cast and made it disappear.”

Beth considered that, carefully thinking out her answer.

Good
, Phil thought.
You have to be on your toes when it comes to this kid.

Beth finally said, “Did you feel any heat?”

Tracy touched her arm as if she were trying to remember. “No.”

“Okay,” Beth said as if the matter was settled. “How about we say it was magic?”

“How about we don't?” Tracy whipped out a tiny notebook and pen and scribbled something down. “I've given you my hypothesis—”

“And I've proven your hypothesis incorrect. When that happens, you need to modify it.”

Tracy paused mid step and let that sink in. Her pen hovered over her paper. “Modify it to what?”

“I gave you an alternative theory.” Beth took Tracy’s notebook and scribbled the word “magic.”

“And I denied it.”

“Why?”

“Because magic doesn't exist.” Tracy took the notebook back and crossed out Beth's answer.

“Hm, I've heard that before.”

Phil marveled at their banter. He was beginning to see what brought Tracy to Santa Command. She was one of those kids who needed to understand everything. He had been one of those kids, which eventually led him to his job.

Tracy frowned. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

“I have, but you haven’t accepted the answer.” Beth continued walking.

They passed several of the control rooms, including the one Phil had been working in before Tracy arrived. Several dozen employees rushed past them, seeking out different control rooms and different Santas. Fortunately, Walt wasn't anywhere around. He would ask them to explain themselves. How could Phil do that when he didn't have a clue where Beth was taking them?

Of course, Tracy would be the one to ask. “Where are we going?”

Beth led them down a side hallway. “I'm taking you to see something more concrete. But I guarantee you won't find scientific answers for everything you see tonight.”

“I bet I will,” Tracy said.

“I don't make bets.” Beth stopped in front of a door with a keypad lock above the handle. “Ah, here we are.”

Phil, who had been following along like Tracy, stopped short when he saw what room they were standing in front of. He suddenly understood what Beth meant about meeting Mrs. Claus.

He pulled Beth around the corner and lowered his voice to a whisper. “This is a very bad idea.”

“Maybe,” she said, “but what do you think she's going to do if we lock her in that dressing room again?”

“Sneak out,” he admitted.

“Exactly. You brought her here. You need to make sure she has enough information that she knows to keep quiet.”

Beth was right. A little information was dangerous. Tracy might blab to all of her friends. But if she knew why she couldn’t talk about it, then maybe they could turn this disaster around.

“Fine,” he said, “but we're not telling Walt about this.”

Tracy

The sign on the door said “Main Frame.” Tracy knew enough about computers to know what that meant. This was where it all happened. But even if she didn't know that, the sweat beads on Phil's forehead told her she was about to walk into something big. Would she see how the illusions worked? Would she meet E. Higgens? Would she find out why there were two adults in business clothes working at the North Pole? She hadn't had the chance to work the last one out in her head, and now she didn't have to. Beth had taken her to the exact place she needed to go. All of their secrets were held in this one room. It must be huge!

Tracy placed her hand on the doorknob. “You know, I've got a lot more questions.”

“I'm sure you do,” Beth said as she punched the code into the keypad. “And we're going to do our best to answer them.”

“Thanks.” Tracy opened the door, ready to gasp in awe. But when she saw what was inside, her hopes plummeted.