Amanda Lester and the Orange Crystal Crisis

  Amphora suggested that they get Gordon to tell the headmaster, which put the other kids off so much that she started to argue and had to pay a hefty fine. They didn’t like Wiffle’s friend, but they drew the line at entrapment. Aside from taunting them, Gordon had never really harmed them. Maybe he could be redeemed at some point, or even turned. Now that would be something to behold. But it certainly wasn’t their first order of business.

  “We have to come clean,” said Amanda. “Thrillkill is so preoccupied he won’t be mad. He’ll be glad we told him. It’s important to guard the school.”

  “Maybe we can let him know anonymously,” said Ivy. “Type up a note and leave it in his office or something.”

  “How are we going to get by Drusilla Canoodle?” said Amanda. Ms. Canoodle was Legatum’s admissions officer, and she sat very close to Thrillkill.

  “Do it after hours,” said Simon, sticking a piece of gum in his mouth.

  “Isn’t his office locked then?” said Ivy.

  “No,” said Amanda. “He’s always there. Especially these days.”

  “Well, then, there’s a good chance of him seeing us,” said Ivy.

  “Tell one of the other teachers,” said Amphora quietly.

  The three kids stopped and stared at her. It was an excellent idea, and completely obvious. Why none of them had thought of it they couldn’t imagine.

  “Professor Also,” said Amanda.

  “Professor Ducey,” said Ivy.

  “Professor Tumble,” said Amphora.

  “Wait a minute,” said Simon, chomping on his gum. “This isn’t going to work. Telling any of them is the same as telling Thrillkill. We have to tell him. If there are consequences, there are consequences.”

  This didn’t sound like the kid who just last term had been terrified of expulsion. Of course he’d had good reason then. Thrillkill had let him enter Legatum provisionally. The ancestor who qualified him to attend was so iffy that the school had balked at admitting him. Because of that he had almost been kicked out for cutting a class. He had spent the entire term walking on thin ice and had been a bit of a basket case about it. Now he was fearless?

  “Look,” he said noisily. “I can see you’re all skeptical.” That they were. Even though you couldn’t see Ivy’s eyes behind her sunglasses it was obvious that she wasn’t subscribing to this point of view. “But if we don’t tell him he’ll figure it out. If nothing else, Wiffle will tell him, or Gordon. Then he’ll think we’re covering up something, and you know how much worse that will be. We have to come clean, and the sooner the better. If he doesn’t like it, at least we’ll know and we won’t sit around worrying.”

  This argument made a lot of sense. Thrillkill would not abide being lied to. Either would any of the teachers. The kids resolved to tell him as soon as they got back.

  But before they could get to Thrillkill’s office they saw the headmaster talking to Professor Also in the hall. Amanda, Simon, and Amphora stuck their listening devices in their ears and tried to hear what he was saying.

  “We’ve got to do something about that tunnel gate immediately,” he said.

  “I’ll get the construction people here,” said Professor Also.

  He already knew! What luck. The teachers must have discovered that the gate was broken when they surveyed the school right after the earthquake. Of course. What had the kids been thinking? Did they really think the detectives didn’t know what was going on right under their noses?

  “Oh, and of course I set up a camera at the entrance,” said the headmaster. “We can monitor it.”

  OMG! A hidden camera had watched their every move at the end of the tunnel. For all Amanda knew, cameras had been hidden all around the basement. Stupid, stupid, stupid. It was a good thing they hadn’t lied. Thrillkill would have caught them in the act and that would have been terrible.

  The kids looked at each other. These same thoughts were apparent on each of their faces.

  “Come on,” said Ivy. “We have to figure this out.”

  No one objected, and the four of them ran into the common room and plopped down on a ratty-looking green sofa. What the décor gremlins were thinking with that one was unimaginable. It wasn’t even shabby chic. It was city dump throwaway.

  But they didn’t have time to contemplate the day’s décor. They needed a strategy. If any of the teachers had seen the kids in the tunnels they would want to know what they’d been doing there, and what would they say?

  “We have no choice,” said Simon, removing his gum and looking for a place to put it. “They already have the proof.”

  “How do we know they actually record anything?” said Amanda.

  “Good question,” said Ivy. “Maybe the security guards have a wall of monitors and just watch in real time.”

  “Maybe,” said Amphora, “but maybe not.”

  “Let’s assume they know,” said Simon, casually sticking the gum into a pot with a sick-looking plant in it. Amphora gave him a look. “And if they know, they also saw what we were doing. We have to tell the truth.”

  “Hm,” said Amanda. “I hadn’t thought of that. You’re right. There’s nothing to debate. We’re stuck. Of course if they don’t say anything we’re off the hook.”

  “Then it’s a waiting game,” said Ivy. “And you know what? I don’t care. I’m tired of trying to hide things. It’s exhausting.”

  “You’re right,” said Simon, pushing the gum deeper into the pot. “Que sera sera. Now let’s do something productive. How about looking at those snaps?”

  15

  The Trove of Secrets

  Amanda and Simon took out their phones and pulled up the pictures from the tunnels. They hadn’t bothered to read the pieces of paper from the compartments until now because to do so would have slowed them down. Everyone gathered round and watched as they examined shot after shot.

  “These don’t say anything,” said Amanda, flipping quickly. “What does this mean: ‘gutter water’? It makes no sense at all.”

  “I agree,” said Amphora, who was reading the words out to Ivy. “It’s gibberish.”

  “Maybe if we put them together,” said Simon, accidentally bashing into Amphora. “But what goes with what?”

  “We’d have to input every snippet into a program and let it try to make the associations,” said Amanda. “That’s textual analysis stuff and Professor Pickle is still in prison. Of course we wouldn’t want to ask him anyway. Then he’d know that we know and—”

  “It’s impossible,” said Amphora, elbowing Simon out of their little circle. He elbowed her back. Amanda gave them a cut-it-out look.

  “Nothing is impossible if you ask the right questions,” said Simon, forcing his way back into the huddle.

  “Oh really,” she said, jockeying for position. “Ever tried bringing a dead person back to life?”

  “Fifty p!” said Ivy. “Pay up—and stop that pushing.”

  “I’ve had enough of this,” said Amphora. “I don’t want to play anymore.”

  “Then stop making nasty remarks,” said Ivy. “And no more shoving.” Amphora glared at her, but of course Ivy couldn’t see that. Not that she didn’t know. Her ability to sense what was going on was downright spooky.

  “Getting back to the matter at hand,” said Simon, “I’m sure I could come up with a program that would do that, but the data entry would be impossible.”

  “Even if we just picked a few things and tried them?” said Amanda, still flicking.

  “We could try,” said Simon, “but the odds are against us. You saw how many compartments there were in that tunnel. There are a lot of other tunnels, which doubtless means an exponentially higher number of snippets. Whatever goes with the ones we found might take years to come up with—assuming that’s even how this whole thing works.”

  “Hang on a minute,” said Amanda. “I just had an idea.” Everyone leaned toward her. “Professor Snaffle.”

  “Ye-e-e-s,” said Amphora. “I’m not fol
lowing you.” She looked expectant but puzzled.

  “Professor Snaffle,” said Amanda. “Secrets.”

  “Ri-i-ight. The secrets teacher. So what?”

  “I get it,” said Simon, grabbing for Amanda’s phone. It flew out of her hand and clattered to the floor. “Those pieces of paper. They’re secrets.”

  “Yes!” said Amanda, reaching for the phone. She was so excited she forgot to take Simon to task. “Exactly. And who is the authority on secrets?”

  “Professor Snaffle,” said the other three in unison.

  “But I don’t see—” said Amphora. “You don’t expect us to ask her about this, do you?”

  “No,” said Amanda, examining the screen. She buffed it with her sleeve. “However, we can speculate about what’s going on using what we know about her, the school, and the way the teachers operate.”

  “Okay,” said Amphora. “What do you think?”

  “Each of the teachers has a specialty.”

  “Right,” nodded Amphora.

  “Professor Snaffle’s specialty is secrets.” Amanda stopped to let the logic sink in. The wheels didn’t seem to be turning in Amphora’s head, but the others had obviously got the point.

  “The pieces of paper are secrets, and—”

  “Professor Snaffle must have put them there!” said Amphora.

  “Exactly,” said Amanda. “And why did she put them there?”

  “Because they’re Legatum’s secrets?” said Amphora.

  “Yes!” said Amanda. “Legatum has a trove of secrets.”

  “Oooooh,” said Ivy. “Sounds like Harry Potter. Legatum Continuatum and the Trove of Secrets.”

  “You laugh,” said Amanda, “but I don’t think that’s so farfetched.”

  “Say you’re right and Professor Snaffle is the overseer of the trove of secrets,” said Amphora. “Oooh, I like the sound of that. Anyway, say she put them there. How does that help us?”

  “Think of it this way,” said Amanda. “The school’s secrets are kept in little bits in separate compartments. Professor Snaffle puts them there and makes sure they’re safe. Fine, but how does anyone ever use them?”

  “They’re in code?” said Amphora.

  “Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” said Amanda, “but no. Not exactly. Let’s turn it around.” Ivy and Simon were grinning. Amphora was on the edge of her seat. “How do terrorists work?”

  “You’re not saying that Professor Snaffle is a terrorist?” said Amphora, horrified.

  “No, of course not,” said Amanda. “But think about it. How do terrorists communicate?”

  “Well, they don’t have a newsletter,” said Amphora.

  “Correct,” said Amanda, waiting for her to go on.

  “Well? So what? I don’t see . . . OMG, cells! They split themselves into cells and operate independently.”

  “That’s right! And each of these pieces of paper is the same as a cell. None of them knows what the others mean.”

  “But I don’t see . . . wait a minute,” said Amphora. “If that’s the case, there has to be a master index or something that ties them together. Metadata!” She thought for a moment. “The way anyone knows what these pieces of paper mean is through metadata that’s kept somewhere else. Professor Snaffle is in charge of the secrets.” She smiled a huge smile. “Professor Snaffle has the metadata, doesn’t she?”

  “Yuppers,” said Amanda. “That was a great syllogism. You get an A in logic.”

  “I do, don’t I?” said Amphora. “Wait till I tell—”

  “Wait till you tell who?” said Simon archly.

  “No one,” said Amphora. “I’m not going to tell anyone.”

  “You were going to say Rupert Thwack, the cook, weren’t you?” said Simon.

  “Fifty p!” said Ivy. “Cool it, Simon. She wouldn’t tell him. She wouldn’t tell anyone.”

  “Who wouldn’t tell anyone what?” said David Wiffle, entering the room. “Say, have you guys seen Gordon? I can’t find him anywhere.”

  “Nope,” said Simon abruptly.

  “That isn’t entirely true,” said Ivy. “We saw him in the basements a few hours ago, but he went his own way and we haven’t seen him since.”

  “Something’s wrong then,” said David, sounding agitated. “He wouldn’t just go off like that.”

  “Why not?” said Simon. Amanda knew he was deliberately baiting the kid. Gordon never went off by himself. He and Wiffle were joined at the hip and Simon wanted to get Wiffle to admit it.

  “Because,” said David in a surly tone.

  “Because why?” said Simon in his usual stubborn manner.

  “You’re a nosy Parker,” said David obstinately. It seemed that he could be just as stubborn as Simon.

  “No more than you,” said Simon.

  “Uh uh,” said David.

  “Oh for heaven’s sake,” said Ivy. “You two are a couple of babies. Look, David, I’m sure Gordon is fine. He was quite keen to explore.”

  “He’s not that kind of person,” said David, picking at a hangnail. “And for your information, there are still aftershocks going on. It’s dangerous down there.”

  “Oh?” said Simon, seizing on the first point. “What kind of person is he?” He stood up. It was an obvious ploy to intimidate the smaller boy.

  “If you must know, he’s very sensible.” The hangnail was obviously bothering him because the picking got more intense. It didn’t seem that he was making any progress toward removing the darn thing.

  “Sensible,” said Simon, as if to question him.

  “Yes.” He pulled the hangnail off with a flourish. He looked extremely satisfied with himself. The girls were horrified but Simon betrayed no reaction.

  “And how is exploring the tunnels not sensible?” said Simon.

  “You don’t have to turn this into an inquisition,” said David. “Gordon should have been back a long time ago. I think we should send a search party down there.”

  Simon laughed. “A search party? What do you think this is, the Lone Ranger?” He sounded very snotty. Amanda wondered if David would hit him. That would have made some fight. Neither of the two boys was exactly burly. Simon was tall and thin, and David was short and puny.

  Wiffle turned red in the face and crossed his arms. “You’re an idiot,” he said. “I’m going to Thrillkill.”

  “Because I said you were acting like the Lone Ranger?” said Simon, deliberately being obtuse.

  “Buzz off,” said David.

  “’Buzz off,’” said Simon, mimicking him.

  Wiffle leaned forward, stuck his tongue out, and pivoted, then stomped out of the common room.

  “Good going, Simon,” said Amphora.

  “Fifty p,” said Ivy.

  “Would you stop that?” said Amphora. “He’s the one who’s argumentative. And anyway, this fining thing is unfair.”

  “Fifty p,” said Ivy. She was being as stubborn as Simon. She sure was testy these days.

  “Why don’t you cut them some slack?” said Amanda. Realizing that this might have been the first time she’d ever said something mean to Ivy, she gasped. Something had got hold of everyone and was turning them into grumps. Maybe it was the earthquake, although Ivy had exhibited signs before that happened.

  “You too?” said Ivy accusingly.

  “Ivy,” said Simon in a tone Amanda had never heard before, “what’s going on? You seem really tense.” He looked downright solicitous. Now she was convinced that something strange was in the air.

  Ivy burst into tears. “I’m just so worried about everything,” she sniffled. “I can’t seem to think straight and there’s more but I don’t want to say.”

  This confession took the other three by surprise. They looked at each other as if to say, “Did I just hear that?”

  After what must have been a minute, Amanda spoke in a tiny voice. “You’re stressed, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” wailed Ivy.

  “Everything’s chang
ed,” said Amphora kindly. “You had certain expectations about Legatum, and nothing is working out the way you thought.” She put a hand on Ivy’s arm.

  “You’re right,” said Ivy. “All right. I’ll tell you, but no comments, okay?” They looked at her as if to say, “Out with it.” She sat there for a second, seemingly searching her mind for the right compartment. Then she grabbed Nigel’s head and cradled it and said, “I think I’m losing my hearing.”

  “What?” said Simon. Everyone leaned forward, although they could hear perfectly well where they were.

  “Something’s wrong with it,” said Ivy. “And by the way, the teachers are going to dissolve the school!”

  Amanda couldn’t believe what she had just heard. Ivy lose her hearing? That would be a disaster. It would affect Ivy’s whole life and potentially ruin her future. No wonder she was upset.

  “What do you mean losing it?” she said. Maybe Ivy was exaggerating.

  “I mean it goes in and out,” said Ivy, breaking into tears.

  “How long has this been happening?” said Simon, trying to peer into Ivy’s ears.

  “I don’t know,” Ivy sniffled. “A few weeks maybe? Please don’t do that, Simon. You won’t be able to see anything.”

  “That long?” said Amphora, moving to hold her friend. “Have you been to the doctor?”

  “I, uh, no,” said Ivy, wiping her eyes. She leaned into Amphora’s embrace.

  “Well for Pete’s sake why not?” said Simon. He looked embarrassed.

  “It comes and goes,” said Ivy, her voice muffled as she rested her face on Amphora’s shoulder. “It might get better on its own.”

  Amanda didn’t want to say what she was thinking: what if it didn’t? How could Ivy jeopardize her greatest gift this way?

  “It’ll be fine,” said Ivy. “The main thing is the school.

  The whatsit was so important that the school’s very existence depended on it? There was no question that Ivy knew what she was talking about. When her hearing worked it was perfect. So the argument Amanda had heard that first day outside Thrillkill’s office was every bit as serious as it had seemed. More, actually.