G. H. Stone: Fatal Error

Silas Ek frowned and looked at his watch. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’ve got an appointment. Qute, would you and Hack show the guys Club Dead? I’ll be right back.” He turned to the Investigators. “Think about what I said. I’ll need your decision before you leave. I hope I can count on you.”

Oh, yeah, the virus, Jupe reminded himself as he tried not to stare at beautiful Qute. Ek wanted them to stop their investigation, while the Investigators wanted to continue it. What should they do?

“What’s Club Dead?” Bob asked as Qute and Hack led them into the Oracle warehouse.

Hack laughed and said mysteriously. “You’ll see. But don’t worry… you’ll like it.”

While he kept his eye on Qute, Pete was also fascinated by big Hack. “Do you work out every day?” he asked the teen heartthrob.

“Yup. Pecs, lats, quads,” Hack explained. “I’ve got a routine, you know? How about yourself?”

While Hack and Pete talked muscles, the group wound through dark wood-paneled halls lined with closed office doors. “Man, this place is antique,” Bob said. “Yeah, everything’s so state of the art around here,” Hack said as he opened a door at the end of the corridor, “it’s hard to remember the building’s ancient.”

“Oh, wow!” Pete cried as he followed Hack into a cavernous room. “Is this Club Dead?” Jupe asked in awe. “Yup,” Hack said. “ Dead at Oracle means something’s no longer needed. Say a picture or a commercial’s in the can — finished. Some of the ‘dead’ props and stuff can be used later, on other projects. So they’re stored here — Club Dead.”

Club Dead was a two-story-high fantasy land. Just inside the entrance stood a tall chrome robot with crab claws for hands. Beyond were crammed exotic creatures, scenery, and machines. My dad would kill to see this place, thought Pete.

“This room is so much fun we hate to go to work,” said Hack. “Check this.” He flipped a switch.

“Watch the magic screen,” Qute said, pointing up.

To their right a twelve-foot television screen high on the wall turned on with a soft click. The group watched as gigantic dancing bears melted into dancing molecules the size of baseballs. Then the background of futuristic skyscrapers loomed larger and larger until they threatened to topple right out of the screen.

“Computer graphics?” Jupe asked.

Qute nodded. “The best ever. Artists draw outlines of people or things on the computer, and then the computer fills in the outlines and makes them move.”

“I get it,” Bob said. “The computer makes 2-D images into 3-D ones.”

“Yeah,” Hack said. “That’s how a lot of animation’s done now.”

“But not every computer can do it,” Qute added. “We’re talking major number crunching here.”

“Like twelve trillion calculations a second to make a complicated 3-D image move.” Jupe grinned as everyone looked at him, astounded.

“How’d you know that ? ” Qute was impressed.

“Read it in Time magazine.”

Just then the door opened, and Silas Ek stuck in his bald head. “They’re ready for you on the set,” he told Qute and Hack.

“Thanks,” Qute said. She slipped a hand inside her pocket and pulled out three small plastic models of herself in Cosmic Trek . She gave one to each Investigator. “Here’s some souvenirs. Don’t forget me, okay? Great meeting you!” And she ran out the door. “Later!” Hack dashed after her.

As the Investigators watched the twins disappear, Silas Ek muttered to himself, “I can’t believe what I have to waste my time on! Junk food missing from the employee lockers. What next!” He shook his head wearily, then looked at the Investigators. “Do you guys have to get back, or would you like to look around some more?”

At Ek’s question, an alarm went off in Pete’s head. “Oh, no!” he groaned. “ Kelly! ” Pete and Bob checked their watches. “It’s four thirty.” Bob gulped. “We’ve missed the movie,” Pete sighed. “We’re in deep, deep trouble.”

“Perhaps I can help,” Silas Ek said. He reached into his suit coat pocket and handed each of the guys’ two free movie passes. “I hope Oracle can count on you to keep our secret. Since we’re the ones who stand to lose the most, I think we should be the ones to call the shots, don’t you?”

Ek was being logical again, Jupe thought. The way the security chief presented his argument made sense.

At least their investigation had discovered that Rome had started the virus. Maybe it was time to quit, so Oracle didn’t matter anymore.

“Fine with me,” Pete told Ek, and headed down the corridor. “I’m outta here!”

“Wait for me,” Bob said, running after Pete.

“I guess The Three Investigators are turning the case back to you,” Jupiter said to Ek.

He followed his friends out to the front, where a guard unlocked the steel exit gate.

The guys hopped in Pete’s blue Aries and headed toward the junkyard. They were reliving their visit to Oracle as they neared a narrow bridge.

“She’s a goddess,” Bob breathed.

“Absolutely brilliant,” Jupe enthused.

Just then a black pickup appeared on their left, keeping pace.

“Go ahead, guy,” Pete muttered to the pickup. “Pass!”

But the pickup stayed with them. Suddenly its right front fender dipped toward the Aries.

“He’s trying to push us off the bridge!” Pete cried and swerved.

Jupe stared at the man in the pickup’s cab. “Guys! It’s Norton Rome!”

The jowly face of Norton Rome glared out at them. He had pudgy cheeks and glittering eyes that narrowed with determination.

“So that’s Norton Rome!” Bob said. “He looks… creepy.”

Just then the black pickup lunged toward Pete’s Aries again. It forced the car closer and closer to the guardrail until at last the car scraped it. Sparks flew. Metal screeched.

“He’s trying to kill us!” Jupe cried, looking down into the deep barranca that was just on the other side of the rail.

Pete gritted his teeth. “Hold on!”

Instantly Bob and Jupe braced themselves against the dashboard. Pete had gotten them out of some tight jams with his creative driving, and they fervently hoped this was going to be another save…

Pete hit the accelerator and wrenched the wheel left. There was a sudden thud that made Jupe’s teeth rattle. The Aries plowed into the pickup’s fender and slid on past it.

“We made it!” Jupe breathed.

They weaved at high speed from one side to the other of the quiet country road, blocking the pickup from pulling up alongside them.

“I thought you souped up this car, Pete,” Bob said. “Can’t you outrun him?”

“I am trying!”

Pete floored the gas pedal. He checked his rearview mirror. “He’s still with me. He must have jets under his hood!”

Suddenly a bullet whined past Pete’s open window.

“Oh, man!” Bob groaned.

Pete had an idea. Anything to shake this maniac loose. He lifted his foot from the accelerator so that the Aries’ speed would slow. He kept the car steadily on the right side of the road.

“What’re you doing?” Bob cried.

“You’re going to get us killed!” Jupe predicted.

“Stay with me, guys,” Pete said.

“Do we have a choice?” Bob wailed.

Just then the menacing pickup pulled up alongside the Aries. Pete suddenly slammed on the brakes. The pickup, not tumbling to Pete’s scheme, continued at its same speed and hurtled past them.

“Ha!” Pete said. “Gotcha!”

The pickup, now ahead of them, swerved right. Another shot sang past the car as Norton Rome fired back over his shoulder. He was driving with one hand.