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Г. Х. Стоун: Fatal Error

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Г. Х. Стоун Fatal Error

Fatal Error: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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Movie madness, high-tech troble, megabyte mystery!

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Jupe pondered this information. Other people were looking for Rome. Could it have anything to do with the virus?

“Did they say why they wanted him?”

“They said they were friends of his. Are you friends of his too?”

“Sort of,” Bob said. “I mean, he gave a talk once to Jupe’s computer club. Do you know where he is?”

“Out of town for a few days. He didn’t say where, but I got the impression he’d be back shortly.”

The guys thanked the woman and left. Behind them Monster gave a farewell woof. Jupe glanced back, watched the door close, and sighed.

“I thought it was your drop-dead good looks.” Bob chortled. “And here it was your delicious peanut butter scent!”

“You want to talk about animal magnetism,” Jupe retorted, “let’s talk about guys who attract girls like flypaper!”

Jupe turned onto the sidewalk that wound through the complex.

“Hey, where are you going?” Bob demanded. “The street is back there.”

“Let’s check out Rome’s place.”

The two guys moved briskly through the long shadows of late afternoon. A cute blond girl in shorts was watering plants on her porch as the guys passed by.

“Hi!” She waved at both of them, but she looked at Bob.

Bob gave her a big smile. “Hi there!” he called.

“Back to Earth, Romeo,” Jupe said. “There’s Rome’s apartment. You stand guard out front. I’ll do recon.”

“What?” Bob said, his mind still on the blonde.

“Later.” Jupe glanced around quickly to make sure no one was watching, then slipped past Rome’s porch and down the side of the cottage. It appeared to Jupe that Rome’s apartment must extend the full length of the building. There were three windows. He stopped at the first one and peered inside. The living room was a mess! Drawers had been turned over onto the floor, papers were scattered, and a wastebasket had been dumped upside down and its contents searched. What was going on?

Jupe tried the window, but it was locked tight. He strode to the next window. It also looked into the trashed living room, but it was open an inch! Jupe quickly worked the window up, heaved himself onto the ledge, and stepped inside.

Talk about destruction, Jupiter thought. Anyone who complained about the mess in the Investigators’ headquarters trailer ought to see this!

Jupe headed for the computer. The cover was a heap on the floor, and the disk box was open. Jupe searched through the disks, looking for the game disk. But it wasn’t there. He turned on the computer, popped in a disk, and called up all the files with no trouble. He tried two more disks with the same result. No virus here that he could see. Jupe dropped to his hands and knees and picked through piles of junk on the floor.

As he crawled toward a mound of paperbacks, the floorboards shuddered. He froze, trying to understand what caused the movement.

Suddenly there was an ominous rolling sound of something heavy on wheels.

Jupiter looked up just in time to see an enormous microwave cart hurtling through the kitchen door. It had a clear path through the floor’s rubble, and it was bearing down straight at him!

4

Bad Timins

His heart pounding, Jupiter dove from the path of the microwave cart. It thundered past so close that it took his breath away.

Just as the cart crashed into the living room wall, a pair of white high-top shoes pounded past Jupe. A guy wearing a green jacket whipped open the front door and raced out across the porch. By the time Jupe was back on his feet, the figure had disappeared down the walkway.

“Jupe!” Bob appeared in the doorway. “Are you okay?”

“Where’d he go? Did you see him?”

“Only his back,” Bob admitted. “I was looking for you around the side. What took you so long?”

Jupe flung out an arm, gesturing at the trashed apartment. “Searching through this mess.”

“Geez, Jupe.” Bob stared. “Did you have to destroy the place?”

“I didn’t do it, dope. It must’ve been the guy who tried to mash me with that cart.” Jupe told Bob about the attack and his narrow escape. “I remember when Rome came to talk to us, I thought he was kind of weird and arrogant, but he sure knew his computer stuff. Wonder why anyone would want to search his place… unless it had to do with the virus.”

“Come on,” Bob said, eying the open door. “Let’s split before someone else shows up.”

The Investigators quickly locked the apartment and trotted down the winding walkway.

“Did you see the guy’s green jacket and white high-tops?” Bob asked. “It had to be one of the guys who asked the manager about Rome.”

Puffing, Jupiter nodded agreement. “Too bad he saw me before I saw him!”

“Jupe! Bob!” At the sound of Pete’s voice, the guys turned. Pete loped easily toward them.

“Boy, I sure could’ve used you five minutes ago!” Jupiter told his athletic friend.

“Sorry. It was a bummer trying to find a parking place. What happened?”

Jupiter and Bob filled Pete in as they walked the two blocks to his car. “But why’d he go after you, Jupe?” Pete said at last. “I mean, did you find something?”

“Nope.” Jupe climbed into the back seat. “Must’ve been a diversionary tactic. You know, distract me so he could split. Sure makes me wonder whether Rome took off to dodge so many visitors.”

“His visitors seem to play rough,” Bob said as he sat down in the passenger seat next to Pete. “It’s a good thing you looked up in time, Jupe. You could’ve been mildly squashed. That was a pretty big cart.”

They drove back to the junkyard silently, each wondering what the intruder had been after… and why.

* * *

It was nearing dusk when the Investigators parked in The Jones Salvage Yard.

“Hey! Look at the door!” Pete said, pointing across the yard to their headquarters trailer.

The guys jumped out of the car. Pete and Bob ran ahead to investigate while Jupiter trailed. He’d had enough fast moves for one day.

“It’s notes!” Bob realized as they drew closer. Small papers were taped to the door, fluttering in the breeze.

“Kelly!” Pete guessed. “I’m dead!”

“Oh, no!” Bob smacked his forehead. “I forgot Elizabeth!”

Behind them Jupiter guffawed. “Boy, are you two in trouble!”

“Hey, you wanna talk about somethin’ real,” called the familiar voice of Ty Cassey, Jupiter’s second cousin. “Talk cars .”

Lean and wiry, Ty was a master mechanic. His backpack was at his feet, and he was leaning over the engine of Pete’s Ford delivery van, tinkering. Whenever he passed through Rocky Beach, Ty joined Pete in restoring cars for resale.

“You’re back, Ty!” yelled Pete.

“Obviously. Man, you know you got engine pingin’?”

“No!” Pete made a beeline for the grease pit. Then he spotted Jupe’s laughing face. “Kelly!” he reminded himself, and turned back to the trailer. Inside he flicked on the lights and dialed her number. The guys heard him say, “Kelly, baby!” Then he slammed the door.

Bob picked notes off the door. “ ‘No one plays tennis in the dark, dummy!’ ” he read, “ ‘Investigators should investigate something important — like why they can’t tell time!’… ‘All guys are the worst!’ ”

The trailer door opened and Pete walked out, whistling. He looked very pleased with himself.

“So?” Bob and Jupiter followed him to the grease pit.

“So, no big deal,” he said. “Tomorrow afternoon I’m taking her to see Cosmic Trek: The New World .”

“Brilliant idea!” Bob said, impressed that Pete had thought of it. “Every girl in the world wants to see Hack den Zorn’s new movie. That ought to get me out of the doghouse too.” He headed for the trailer phone.

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