Ambush by Sigmund Brouwer Page A

lies ahead of you, I’m guessing it will involve exploration of the solar system. You’re going to need advanced calculus to get any kind of education that allows for space travel.”
    â€œIf she wants me to learn better, why doesn’t she teach me ?”
    He laughed again. “She is. Sometimes the best way to learn is by figuring something out for yourself, then teaching it to someone else. By asking questions that she already knows the answers to, she’s making you do exactly that.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œShe might have another reason too.”
    â€œWhat’s that?” I asked.
    â€œAll I’m saying is that she sure seems to smile a lot when she’s around you.”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œYou figure it out.” Dad stopped in front of a closed hatch that led to a private bunk. The hatch was a circular opening, twice as wide as his shoulders. The “door” to the hatch slid open or shut by entering a code into one of the small keypads—one on the outside and one on the inside. He punched in the five-digit code.
    â€œHey,” I said, “this is Blaine Steven’s bunk.”
    â€œI know,” Dad said. “He wants to talk to you.”
    â€œMe? He’s already tried to kill me three different times.”

CHAPTER 3
    The hatch door slid open, and my heart started to pound.
    Blaine Steven couldn’t be trusted. So why would my dad want me to talk with him?
    â€œI think you should speak to him,” Dad said quietly. “He’s been asking for you specifically. And this is after months of refusing to speak to anyone on the Moon Racer . He also asked that you take your comp-board.”
    I shook my head. This all seemed so unreal. “You’ll wait for me?”
    â€œI’ll be right here,” he said.
    â€œI’m not sure I want to be alone with him,” I said nervously.
    â€œHe insisted,” Dad said. “And he won’t be able to do anything to you as long as you stay out of his reach. Remember that. All you need to do is yell, and I’ll be there.”
    â€œThanks,” I said. But I still didn’t like the idea.
    I floated into Blaine Steven’s prison bunk. Dad shut the hatch behind me. The clank echoed. It felt like I had been shut into prison myself.
    With only a couple of weeks of the journey left, why did Blaine Steven want to see me? And why did he want me to bring my comp-board?
    â€œHello, Tyce.”
    The man on the far side of the bunk wore the regulation blue jumpsuit, with one difference. A wide metal band circled his waist. This band was attached to the wall by a short length of cable. It gave him just enough room to reach his e-book and other possessions and take care of his personal needs. Anywhere else but in weightlessness, a leash like this would have been cruel punishment.
    â€œHello,” I answered. Without friendliness. This man had tried to do a lot of damage to the Mars Project. And to me.
    â€œThanks for coming,” the silver-haired man with cold blue eyes said. He looked like a dignified judge. But I knew he used this respectable appearance to fool people.
    I shrugged.
    â€œI can understand that you don’t feel much like talking with me,” he said.
    I remembered what it had been like the other times we spoke. When he was director. In his office. Under the dome. On Mars. Where he had treated me like a blob of mud to be scraped off his shoe. I shrugged again.
    â€œAnd that’s all right. I can do most of the talking if you like.” Steven put his finger to his mouth as if he were silencing me. It didn’t make sense. I was already silent. He pointed at my computer and gestured for me to give it to him.
    I shook my head. How could I trust him with it?
    â€œIt is very important that we talk,” he said pleasantly. As he spoke, he acted as if he were typing on a keyboard. “I hope you understand that,” he said in the same pleasant