Peter and Kevin managed to pick up a good amount of information from the notebook Kevin had picked up. They soon learned that there was a purpose for the release of the gang-members from jail that went beyond a mere longing to have those gang members back. The Scallions were planning an attack on a major bank in NYC, and needed all the people they possibly could. The Scallions worked by numbers; they figured that they could get away with more things by striking people with fear by their large number.
The night of the robbery was to take place in a week.
Peter and Kevin managed to get by unquestioned for the most part by keeping fairly quiet. They couldn't talk even to each other as much as they would have liked. But this only left all the more time for thought, and there was a lot of thinking to be done.
Kevin was able to slip the notebook back into the robber's possessions while everyone was asleep, thus removing any suspicions that might be aroused by the finding of it in Kevin's pocket. Peter began to work out a plan that would cause their "friend's" interest to be aroused in the releasing of the "time" machine, but it seemed to be a hopeless plan. It only seemed that way.
It was the third night Peter and Kevin were about to spend at the gang's hideout. Their "friend," whose name was Henry, was sitting contentedly in a group, telling stories in his loud, bold voice.
"I liked to build inventions when I was a youngster," he was saying. Peter looked up from the knot in the wood floor he had been studying drearily. "And I tell you, it wasn't easy, but I managed to build a machine that would make a bed."
"Yeah, right, yeah," several others mocked him.
"Really! It was made out of a couple o' pipes and an old motor, and...." his voice went on and on in description. Peter had stopped paying attention though; he had learned all he needed to know. He stood up quietly, and left the room. Kevin saw his friend rise and go outside, and waited for a moment before following.
"What is it, Pete?" he whispered when he spotted his friend sitting on the doorstep in deep thought.
"Plans," Peter said vaguely. "By the way, did you know Henry used to build machines? He is a great supporter of the idea that youth need to be more inventive."
"Really," Kevin said, trying to appear casual and uninterested. He knew what Peter was getting at.
"Yeah," Peter said softly. He turned to face Kevin, and allowed himself a grin. He stood up stretched as one would do when tired and left Kevin on the doorstep. Kevin sat there for five minutes more before he too entered through the door. This was the way they had been carrying on conversation for the past few days. It was aggravating and very slow, but it seemed the only way that would not cause suspicion.
"We'll be champion actors after this," Kevin thought with a grim smile.
"Henry, wait!" Peter called to the large man.
"Hey? What do ya want?" Henry paused in his tracks. It was the next morning, and the gang was working on getting their trucks up to an ideal condition.
"You were talking about machines last night?"
"Yup."
"Well, I like building inventions too. I have a machine that - rather, I had a machine. The police took it away when I was arrested."
"Ah, that must have been hard on ya," Henry said, his voice never once changing.
"Yeah. And I'm not sure how to get it out of the police station without being caught again!" Peter heaved a sigh to portray desperation. It was all Henry needed.
"Now, that's not so hard to do, youngster!" He said. "Tell, ya what, I'll get my tools and help you get it out tonight."
"Will you?" Peter didn't have to pretend his surprise, he was surprised. Henry was compassionate?
"Sure will. I believe robbers ought to be inventive; they get more accomplished that way." Thus saying, Henry hurried off to the trucks. Peter heard his voice raise in anger as one of the men splashed water on his tall boots.
"I'll kill you! I'll kill you for this!" Henry was yelling. There was a scuffle and a scream; then all was drowned out by the voices of others cheering and jeering.
Peter cringed. Henry was not compassionate. But why then had he taken an interest in Peter's affairs? Did he like mechanical devices that much? Or perhaps he knew that Peter and Kevin were intruders and decided to lure them into a trap by pretending to help them. Peter's face went warm at the thought.
"What am I to do?" he groaned in despair. He decided to risk it and go with Henry to regain the machine. After all, if Henry wasn't suspicious, he would become so by the mere refusal on Peter's part. Of course, it might be a trap. But in that case, even if he refused to go along, he and Kevin would be in grave danger by sticking around the robber's camp. And there wouldn't be a chance to recover their machine.
"And I used to think choosing between chocolate and strawberry ice cream was hard?" Peter laughed at himself.
Tomorrow night was the bank robbery. Peter managed to get in touch with Kevin and tell him the news; they would make their escape from the robber's camp during the confusion of the robbery.
Kevin sat on the doorstep and swallowed hard. Peter had just left with that man, Henry. Would Peter be caught by the police? Or would he be killed by Henry in a dark alley? No, he couldn't be killed. He was part of the prophecy and was destined to save Andromeda with those other three people from this planet.
Who were the other three though? There was Frank. But what about the other two?
"Maybe I'm one of them," Kevin thought hopefully. "I'll be coming back from Earth anyways, and I'm helping save Andromeda by this whole expedition, aren't I? But I think the prophecy meant people born on Earth. And besides, I'm not good at computers, and I don't have tantrums. Wait! Carrying on; couldn't that mean someone highly encouraging? Someone who "carries on" a task in the midst of everything; you know, perseverance? But I'm not encouraging, am I?" Kevin suddenly felt left out and lonely. He scanned the dark landscape in the hopes of seeing Peter, but no one appeared. He felt a bad pain in his knee, and looked down to find himself pinching it. He released his hold and drew out a long breath, trying to steady his knotted stomach.
The task was done quickly. Henry was an expert at picking locks and the shed in which the machine had been held captive was not the sturdiest of structures. The machine was loaded on the back of Henry's truck. Peter sat beside it to hold it in place, and was relieved to have an excuse for sitting alone.
Henry was not suspicious of him, but it was best to stay as far away from the robber as possible. When they reached the camp again, Peter relocated the machine to a safer place, with Kevin's help.
Kevin opened the engine and began reconnecting the broken pieces quickly. Peter helped him.
"Does this machine, by any chance, happen to have the ability to travel to another location on the same planet?" Kevin asked.
"I don't know. I haven't played with it enough. I suppose if we were to pull the lever forward just a tiny bit, it might."
"Couldn't we become stuck in the middle of the solar system, though?" Kevin asked.
"I'm not sure. Forward from Earth brings us to Limblon, and backwards from Limblon brings us to Earth. Presumably, if you were to go backwards from Earth, you would find yourself in a different location than Limblon, and so on. But supposing we were to fit another lever in here; a horizontal lever. Would that take us to a different location on the planet?"
"I - I don't know," Kevin sat back on his feet and paused in his work with thought.
"There's no time for experiments, unfortunately," Peter sighed. "We'll repair this, and take the flight to California."
"California? Why there?"
"Because everyone knows that's where the movie star's home is," Peter replied. "We're going there to ask the star if he'd be willing to let you play in one of his movies; we need the money from it for the metal we need for our time machines."
"Wait a second! You can't come up with a better idea than that?" Kevin cried. "You, who has always tried to evaluate and make sure things are safe and so and so forth - I mean, this is totally an illogical solution!"
"Do you have a better idea?" Peter hinted.
"Well, not exactly. But couldn't we, like get a job or something instead?"
"We're running out of time, though! If you were to fake an actor for a time, you could be bringing in the money while I built the machines we need. We've got to work together on this in order for it to go fast."
"But I don't want to be an impersonator!" Kevin objected. "We're in trouble with the law already, and you would have us get into more?"
"Oh, Kevin!" Peter said in desperation. "I can't think anymore! I'm tired of the trouble that is chasing us around; I tired of trying to pretend to be a 'bad guy'; I'm tired of having to think!"
"So you'd rather just risk our lives and be done with it?" Kevin asked.
"Yes," Peter said firmly. Kevin was silent a moment.
"Get some sleep," he said at last.
Peter tossed and turned that night. There wasn't a better way, was there? And how many machines were they planning to build? How many could they build? There was only two of them And therefore could only build one extra, and that would not be enough.
Peter sighed miserably. The whole plan seemed a failure. All at once, he sat up quickly and gasped at the idea forming in his head. Maybe they could only build one more machine, but who said it had to be the same machine? He could redesign it so it would hold many materials besides its pilot; thus the delivery to Limblon would be worth while after all.
But there he was, stuck in a rut again. He could see how he would build the new machine sure enough, but it still left one wondering where the money would come from for it and its stock of supplies it would be shipping.
He could write home requesting money. Yeah right! That would really help.
Maybe he should take up a job like Kevin had suggested. No, for they were running short on time.
Robbery was out of the question.
Could he strike up a deal somewhere, like with a metal company? But what could a boy like him have to offer?
No, the movie star seemed to be their only hope.
Peter shut his eyes and tried to stop thinking. Kevin was right; he needed sleep.
Copyright - 11/29/2008 - Curious Cognitive Content (CCC)
Please do not reproduce without permission from the author(ess).
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