Trapped!: The 2031 Journal of Otis Fitzmorgan (10 page)

A thought occurred to me. “Let me see the contacts.” Crockett handed me the glass. I held one of the contacts up to the light.
It was clouded over like a dirty window. “We can use this. It has a microchip in it that will let us plug into his 'quist.”

“That's crazy!” Crockett cried. “If you hook up to the Net, you'll get infected!”

“You're right,” I agreed. “We can't use it to connect to the Net. We don't know where the program that turns on the virus
is lurking.”

Lysa threw her hands in the air. “So what's left? Everything's connected to the Net.”

“Not everything.” I was thinking.” I was thinking about my secure hard drive around my neck. Maybe I'd made a mistake. I was
looking for a way that my family's journals could help us, but I shouldn't have been looking for a single thing. Instead,
I should have been searching for the one thing they all had in common. A plan began to take shape in my head.

I told the others what I was thinking.

“That's about the craziest thing I've ever heard. No one's ever done anything like that,” Crockett said, but I could set the
excitement in his eyes.

Charlotte just grinned. “I'm in,” she said.

“ Let's do it.” I opened an eye wide and moved the contact closer.

“No!” Lysa cried.

I stopped. “Lysa, it's okay. Do you want me to go over the plan again?”

“I just don't get it!”

I HOPED I WAS RIGHT!

We were all gathered on Level 2 next to the fake statue.

“Okay,” I said. “Here's the plan. Since Yves's contact can still be used, I'm going to wear it so I can connect to his 'quist.”

“But people use 'quists to connect to the Net, and that's where the virus trigger is!” Lysa paused to bite her thumbnail.
“It's too dangerous to go back online.”

“You're right,” I told her. “But I don't have to. You can also use 'quists to access nearby databases wirelessly.”

“But how do you Know which one is safe?”

“There is only one computer database that I know I can trust: my own.” I knew all the journals my family had kept over the
years were secure because my hard drive had never been hooked up to the Net.

“But why do we have to do it in here?” Lysa swept her arms out, indicating the copy of ESCAPE BY A HAIR. I'd turned on the
overhead lights, but even they couldn't dispel the gloom. “That statue is so creepy.”

“Because I can use the 'quist to reprogram the nano-material from the fake statue.”

“To do what?”

“Like I said before, I can reshape it into … into …” It sounded too crazy to say it again, and I couldn't finish my sentence.
“You'll just have to trust me on that point,” I told her, and put the contact in my eye before I could think about it anymore.

Instantly, a flickering screen popped up. It was like someone had laid a sheet of clear plastic over half my vision. There
was a small blinking target symbol.

Charlotte asked, “Are you okay?”

“I think so,” I lifted my hand, and the target symbol whizzed away. “Wow. That was fast.”

Lysa said, “You must have used Gesture Technology before.”

“Sure, but never this close up.” The microchip in Yves's contact allowed the use of Gesture Technology in place of a mouse
or a keyboard. But normally when you buy a 'quist, there's a two-week training program so you can get used to operating it,
kind of like taking driver's ed before you get your license.

I moved my hand more slowly and sent the target symbol over to the file options. A blinking question mark appeared on the
screen.

WHO ARE YOU? a small voice asked inside my head. This must be Yves's 'quist device.

I moved my lips silently in response. “Otis.”

The tiny Voice said, YOU DO NOT HAVE ACCESS PRIVILEGES TO LOCKED FILES, OTIS.

“I don't want access privileges. This is an emergency. I need help.”

There was a beep, and then the voice said, EMERGENCY

PROTOCOL. ESTABLISHING TEMPORARY NEURAL LINK.

“Wait!”

YES?

“Will this harm the owner of the 'quist?”

NO. SHALL I CONTINUE?

“Fine.”

NOW CONNECTING, TO THE NET.

“NO!” I shouted out loud. Beyond the screen, I could see my three friends jump slightly at the sound of my voice.

I focused again as the tiny voice asked, DO YOU WANT TO CONNECT TO THE NET?

“No, thank you.”

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO?

“Connect to a personal hard drive.”

YOU DO NOT HAVE PRIVILEGES TO CONNECT TO THUNDER LORD'S HARD DRIVE.

Thunder Lord? That must be what Yves had told his 'quist to call him. Looking at the contact screen was starting to give me
a blinding headache. “I don't want that hard drive. I want to connect to a different one. Please show me available drives
now.”

In a flash, several options popped up. It seemed I wasn't the only one with a secure hard drive. I moved my hand and scrolled
down to my drive. I tapped my foot twice to access it.

“Please create a new folder.”

DONE.

I searched for one name in each journal from my hard drive and highlighted it. I then dumped the selected information into
the new folder.

“Please identify local nanobots.”

The screen filled with scrolling information. It was It looking at a list of trillions of tiny hard drives.

“Group all nanobots into another new folder.”

DONE.

Now, I just needed the 'quist to reprogram the nanobots into the shape I wanted. “Please combine the two new folders.”

ACTION IS NOT PART OF PROGRAMMING. IT MUST BE PERFORMED MANUALLY.

Manually? It seemed that I would have to reprogram the nanobots all by myself.

I waved my hands around my head and turned my body as if I were dancing with the data in my hard drive.

The fake statue began to melt slightly around the edges like an ice-cream cone on a hot day. Then, after a moment, the blob
lost it liquid appearance and seemed to dry out. Suddenly, particles lifted from the floor as though I had introduced a sandstorm
into the room. It whirled around like a mini tornado. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the other kids back off.

I knew that nanobots could be separated and reshaped into a new nanobot swarm projection. I felt like one of the artists I
had studied as I moved my hands to sculpt and shape the swarm. Sweat dripped down my back and flew from my hands as they darted
about in the air.

“Shouldn't we stop him?” I heard Charlotte ask.

Crockett shook his head.

“I'm fine,” I wanted to tell her. But I didn't dare say anything that wasn't a direct command to the 'quist.

THE NANOBOTS SWARMED IN THE AIR LIKE A MINI TORNADO.

The mini tornado continued to spin, and I thought, I'm losing control!

I forced myself to focus all my thoughts on the one highlighted name that appeared in all the journals. The swarm of nanobots
began to slow and clump together again.

Out of the whirlwind stepped the figure of a woman. She appeared to be about thirty-five years old. Her blonde hair was pulled
back and she wore a simple purple dress.

Exhausted, I plucked the contact out of my eye and slumped against Crockett.

“How're you feeling?” he asked. I just nodded, unable to take my eyes off the woman

“Who is she?” Charlotte breathed.

But I already knew the answer.

MY IDEA WORKED! JUDGE PINKERTON WAS ALIVE AGAIN!

Day 4 of 6
  
  
11:20
AM

I Spent last night sitting in the hard-
backed chair between my parents' beds. Teddy slept on my lap, but I was only able to doze for a few minutes at a time. My
head was too jammed with different ideas and theories about how to solve this strange mystery.

As I constantly checked to make sure that Mom and Dad's breathing hadn't changed, I felt more and more helpless. Cracking
the case would be the best way I could help my parents.

But I don't think I would have been able to sleep anyway. After all, I'd never brought someone “back from the dead” like I
had with Judge 'Pinkerton. I know that according to current definitions, Judge doesn't qualify as a true human being because
she's composed of trillions and trillions of nanobots.

But she is alive.

And because Judge is a physical combination of all that my ancestors wrote about her, she has all the great qualities, smart,
and experiences listed in their different journals.