that reached up to form the S ’ s in Sinclair and Systems.
She tried the gate, but the heavy silver knob didn ’ t turn. She peered in through the metal bars and saw that lights still shone in the small building set into the ground. She rattled the gate, hoping to make a noise, but it didn ’ t even budge. Then she noticed a small indentation in the fence to the right of the gate, with a chinrest, similar to the one she ’ d seen on Max ’ s ship. With trembling legs, she placed her chin on the curved plastic. A red light flashed from left to right and back again, scanning her retina, and then with a faint click, the metal gate to the fence opened. Abbey felt a rush of affection for her older brother. Trust Simon to know she might be coming.
She slipped through the small opening immediately and closed the gate behind her with a clang, then approached the building as quietly as possible. A single light glowed in one of the rounded windows set at ground level. What a strange, almost subterranean, city.
Abbey pressed herself against the wall and bent down to peer in the window, trying her best not to be seen. Inside the room sat a tall lanky, dark-haired man at a desk surrounded by computer screens.
And facing him, in an armchair on the opposite side of the desk, sat Caleb.
*****
Mark ’ s hands left wet imprints on the file folder as he watched Abbey walk away. The bad man gave a grunt of impatience and then whirled and marched in the direction of the glass cube.
Mark scuttled along behind the bad man. Even Mark could tell that Abbey had been upset that he hadn ’ t gone with her. That was the good thing about Abbey: generally speaking, her feelings were easy to read. Still, knowing she was upset caused him a whole welter of feelings that he was unused to. What had been expected of him? It wouldn ’ t have made sense for him to have gone with her. He wasn ’ t good at solving problems, and she couldn ’ t possibly want him for company (since he really didn ’ t talk much).
He should stick with maps, which is what he was best at, and therefore he needed to go to the library, because libraries usually had maps. He had always wanted to go to the Library of Congress Geography and Map Division map library in Washington, D.C., the largest and most comprehensive map collection in the world with over 5.5 million maps. The prospect almost made him dizzy, and as much as he wanted to go, he wondered if it might not just overwhelm him, so many maps all calling out to him. (He had decided he would start with maps of the Eastern American states and cities with major rivers published in the nineteenth century: the ones that weren ’ t available online. Clear parameters always helped him manage things.) His mother had promised him that they would go, but somehow the trip had never materialized. Maybe she, too, thought he couldn ’ t handle it.
The bad man looked at him with big, widened eyes and pressed-together lips as they proceeded through the library foyer. Then he made a beeline for one of the computer kiosks. Mark followed, and the bad man turned and spoke to him slowly and carefully, as if Mark were a ticking toddler time bomb that could go off at any second. (This was of course the way adults who didn ’ t understand his condition — which was most adults — spoke to him. Mark was sometimes tempted to yell out “ boo ” really loudly in the middle of their sentences to see if he could scare them.)
“ Look. Mark. I have some research that I really must do. Why don ’ t you take a look around for Caleb, and then if you finish that, you can just sit at one of those study carrels over there and wait for me? ”
“ I need to look at maps, ” Mark said.
“ Oh, well. Right. You could ask one of the librarians for help, but please don ’ t cause any disturbance, and remember, don ’ t leave the library. We don ’ t have very long, and when I say we have to leave, we have to leave. ”
Mark decided
She tried the gate, but the heavy silver knob didn ’ t turn. She peered in through the metal bars and saw that lights still shone in the small building set into the ground. She rattled the gate, hoping to make a noise, but it didn ’ t even budge. Then she noticed a small indentation in the fence to the right of the gate, with a chinrest, similar to the one she ’ d seen on Max ’ s ship. With trembling legs, she placed her chin on the curved plastic. A red light flashed from left to right and back again, scanning her retina, and then with a faint click, the metal gate to the fence opened. Abbey felt a rush of affection for her older brother. Trust Simon to know she might be coming.
She slipped through the small opening immediately and closed the gate behind her with a clang, then approached the building as quietly as possible. A single light glowed in one of the rounded windows set at ground level. What a strange, almost subterranean, city.
Abbey pressed herself against the wall and bent down to peer in the window, trying her best not to be seen. Inside the room sat a tall lanky, dark-haired man at a desk surrounded by computer screens.
And facing him, in an armchair on the opposite side of the desk, sat Caleb.
*****
Mark ’ s hands left wet imprints on the file folder as he watched Abbey walk away. The bad man gave a grunt of impatience and then whirled and marched in the direction of the glass cube.
Mark scuttled along behind the bad man. Even Mark could tell that Abbey had been upset that he hadn ’ t gone with her. That was the good thing about Abbey: generally speaking, her feelings were easy to read. Still, knowing she was upset caused him a whole welter of feelings that he was unused to. What had been expected of him? It wouldn ’ t have made sense for him to have gone with her. He wasn ’ t good at solving problems, and she couldn ’ t possibly want him for company (since he really didn ’ t talk much).
He should stick with maps, which is what he was best at, and therefore he needed to go to the library, because libraries usually had maps. He had always wanted to go to the Library of Congress Geography and Map Division map library in Washington, D.C., the largest and most comprehensive map collection in the world with over 5.5 million maps. The prospect almost made him dizzy, and as much as he wanted to go, he wondered if it might not just overwhelm him, so many maps all calling out to him. (He had decided he would start with maps of the Eastern American states and cities with major rivers published in the nineteenth century: the ones that weren ’ t available online. Clear parameters always helped him manage things.) His mother had promised him that they would go, but somehow the trip had never materialized. Maybe she, too, thought he couldn ’ t handle it.
The bad man looked at him with big, widened eyes and pressed-together lips as they proceeded through the library foyer. Then he made a beeline for one of the computer kiosks. Mark followed, and the bad man turned and spoke to him slowly and carefully, as if Mark were a ticking toddler time bomb that could go off at any second. (This was of course the way adults who didn ’ t understand his condition — which was most adults — spoke to him. Mark was sometimes tempted to yell out “ boo ” really loudly in the middle of their sentences to see if he could scare them.)
“ Look. Mark. I have some research that I really must do. Why don ’ t you take a look around for Caleb, and then if you finish that, you can just sit at one of those study carrels over there and wait for me? ”
“ I need to look at maps, ” Mark said.
“ Oh, well. Right. You could ask one of the librarians for help, but please don ’ t cause any disturbance, and remember, don ’ t leave the library. We don ’ t have very long, and when I say we have to leave, we have to leave. ”
Mark decided
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