The Twin Powers by Robert Lipsyte Page B

Mathison, “what do aliens look like?”
    â€œLike us,” I said.
    â€œWho do you know who were aliens?”
    â€œDr. Traum, the school psychologist last year. And Hercules, I guess.”
    â€œYou think Tom could be an alien?” asked Agent Quinn. His question came so casually, I wondered if he didn’t remember that I’d already said no.
    Carefully, I said, “I guess anyone could be an alien. You. Her.”
    â€œOr you,” said Agent Quinn.
    â€œNah,” said Agent Mathison. “Aliens don’t pee in their pants.”
    â€œSo,” Agent Quinn continued, “you’re trying to make us believe that neither Tom nor his twin is an alien?”
    â€œTwin?” That hit me between the eyes. How did they know that?
    â€œOne or both?”
    â€œNo, no, neither of them is an alien.”
    â€œNeither,” said Agent Quinn, and he high-fived Agent Mathison. “Twins. Now we got it.”
    They cackled as they walked out of the room. They left the music and the lights on. I closed my eyes and tried to fall into space. I wanted to go to sleep and not wake up.

Thirty-two
    TOM
    EN ROUTE TO CAPE CANAVERAL, FLA.
    2012
    Â 
    O N the helicopter, I tried to get into the Lump’s mind, but it was like the inside of a computer, all passageways, compartments, and firewalls. I had expected his mind to be sloppy, like him, but he was so focused on the details of the flight—keeping Ronnie, Buddy, and me in our harnesses, giving directions to the pilots over his headset, and looking around for planes that might be following us—that his mind was a humming grid.
    I had a lot of questions but I’d have to wait.
    I’d never been in a chopper before and it was noisier and more uncomfortable than I’d imagined. I couldn’t believe that Ronnie and Buddy were actually dozing. I watched the land change from farm to beach. I saw signs on rooftops for alligator wrestling.
We’re definitely in Florida now,
I thought. Then I saw a huge airfield with giant hangars. I spotted a rocket ship. We landed.
    My legs were wobbly for a couple of minutes after we climbed out of the chopper and followed the Lump into a building. A guard tried to stop Ronnie from taking Buddy inside, but the Lump showed him a badge and said something in a sharp voice. My hearing wasn’t working yet.
    The Lump led us into a cafeteria. He piled a lot of food onto his tray and gestured for us to do the same. I didn’t have much of an appetite. Neither did Ronnie, but he got food that Buddy would eat. We all got lots of water.
    We were sitting at a table when a tall woman whose shoes made a clacking sound marched up to us. Three guys in dark suits who looked like Agent Brown were behind her.
    The Lump wiped his beard and jumped up. “Director. This is Tom and Ronnie.”
    She squatted down to pat Buddy. “And who are you, you adorable cocker spaniel, you?” The dirty little dog licked her hand. I could see she liked that.
    â€œThat’s Buddy,” said Ronnie.
    â€œWhat a sweetheart,” said the director. But she was looking at Ronnie, studying him hard.
    Finally, she stood up. “And the famous Tom.” She gave me a once-over. “On TV, you look more muscular.”
    She scared me. She seemed really tough. And smart. I tried a mind probe but hit cement.
    â€œGood work, Agent Novak,” she said to the Lump. “The other two kids are on their way. We’re planning liftoff at zero dark thirty.”
    â€œWe’ll be ready,” said the Lump.
    She gave Ronnie and me another round of once-overs, then broke off a piece of the Lump’s hamburger and bent over to feed it to Buddy. The little traitor
smiled
at her. She bent over farther and kissed the top of his head before she clacked off.
    Ronnie rolled his eyes at me.
    The Lump sat down. “Okay. We’ll have a chance to talk before we go.”
    â€œGo where? Talk about