The more Mark thought through his options, the more he realized there was only one thing for him to do. He had to get to Stansfield as soon as possible. He needed to find Courtney so they could work this through together. Nobody else knew what they knew. Nobody else could help. They needed to be together.
Now that he had a plan, Mark felt better. He went online to check bus and train schedules between Stony Brook, Connecticut and Derby Falls, Massachusetts. He planned on telling his parents that Courtney invited him up to visit for a few days. If they wouldn’t let him go, he’d go anyway. He didn’t like to disobey his parents, but there were bigger issues at stake. He’d deal with the consequences later. Whatever they were, they would be easier to handle than Saint Dane.
He struck out with mass transit. The fastest combination of bus and trains wouldn’t get him to Derby Falls until late that night. Twelve hours! According to Mapquest, it was only a three-hour drive! Mark began weighing the possibility of getting his mother to drive him, when another idea hit. The concept made him physically shudder, but he was desperate. He grabbed his cell phone and scrolled through the list of phone numbers from incoming calls. He didn’t get many. He easily found what he was looking for. Before he had the chance to overthink himself out of it, he closed his eyes and made the call.
Two hours later Mark was riding shotgun on his way to Stansfield Academy.
Behind the wheel was Andy Mitchell.
SECOND EARTH
(CONTINUED)
“Let’s do a little math here,” Andy Mitchell said.”And I’m good at this, so you can’t argue. I called you for help and it took about, what, an hour out of your busy schedule? You, on the other hand, call me at six in the morning and ask me to drive three hours up to the sticks, so you can see a chick I can’t stand, and doesn’t like me so much either. Is that about right?”
“Uh, yeah, that pretty much sums it up,” Mark said sheepishly. “But you said if I ever needed a favor-“
“I did,” Mitchell said, snorted, and hawked a lougie out the driver’s window.
Mark nearly retched. He was grateful the window was open.
“All I’m saying is, this don’t make us square,” Mitchell said. “The way I see it, I’m in for six, seven hours plus here. After this, youowe me.”
This was killing Mark. The idea of relying on Andy Mitchell for anything was worse than swallowing metal shavings. To know he was now indebted to the creep made him want to jump out of the car while they were doing sixty-five on the Connecticut Turnpike. To top it all off, since he helped Mitchell deliver the flowers that morning, there was nothing covering the rancid smell in the car anymore. What else did Andy use this car for? Stashing bodies for the mob? The only thing that kept Mark from losing it was knowing how important it was that he find Courtney.
“I’m really grateful,” Mark said.
“Yeah, we’ll see,” Mitchell said.
Mark closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep.
“Why do you got to see her so bad?” Mitchell asked. “I thought she had the hots for Pendragon?”
“The truth?” Mark asked.
“No, I want you to lie,” Mitchell said sarcastically. “Sheesh.”
Mark had no intention of telling the whole truth, but it was going to be awkward once they got there. He figured he had to tell some version of the truth. “I’m worried about her,” Mark said.
“Chetwynde?” Mitchell scoffed. “She’s the last chick I’d worry about.”
“Yeah, well, I think somebody might be giving her a hard time, and I want to make sure she’s okay,” Mark said.
“And you got this brainstorm at six o’clock in the morning?” Mitchell asked.
Mark shrugged and said, “I couldn’t sleep.”
Mitchell shook his head in dismay and said, “Some guy is giving Chetwynde grief and you want to swoop in like Batman to protect her?”
“I’m more of a Superman guy,” Mark said.
Mitchell laughed. “You’re nuts is what you are. Maybe it’s a good thing you called me.”
Strangely enough, Mark was thinking the same thing. He didn’t want to be doing this alone. He wondered what Courtney would say when he showed up with Andy Mitchell. He hoped she’d get a good laugh out of it. He hoped to hear her laugh about anything.
Mark didn’t hate the drive. Once the “you owe me/I owe you” conversation was over, they began talking about Sci-Clops. It was the one topic they had in common. Mitchell told Mark all about the process he went through to develop the elastic metal with the incredible tensile strength that he had demonstrated at his first meeting of Sci-Clops. Mark was fascinated to hear Mitchell describe how he was trying to find a way to create something with the durability of metal and the flexibility of plastic. The trick was to find the elements that would form an ionic bond on the atomic level to create an entirely new compound. Much of it was trial and error, and he said how he was still a long way off, but the professors at the university thought that what he’d done so far was pretty impressive.
Impressive was the word. It never failed to amaze Mark to listen to Andy when he spoke about his passion for math and science. It simply didn’t jive with the slug personality of this guy who drove with one hand and kept pushing his greasy, dirty blond hair out of his eyes with the other. The guy was gross… and genius.
Not to be outdone, Mark told Andy more about the killer robot he had made that won so many competitions. He explained how the secret wasn’t in the hardware, but the software. Mark had never told anyone about this before, but hearing about Mitchell’s successes with his new compound, he felt as if he needed to show off a little too. He confided in Mitchell that he had been working on a new processing code that actually streamlined the binary flow through the processor of the computer that ran his robot. The result was that the clock speed of the standard microprocessor was dramatically increased, which translated to faster commands to the hardware, and therefore a robot that could react and attack way faster-with more programmed moves-than its competition. Mark admitted that it was all pretty crude at this point, but he hoped to develop it further so that at some point he might catch the interest of one of the big tech companies.
After hearing his story, Mitchell looked at Mark. He didn’t say anything, he just looked at him. “What?” Mark asked nervously.
“That’s incredible,” was all Mitchell said. “Absolutely incredible.”
It sounded to Mark as if he meant it too. For the first time, Mark felt as if Andy Mitchell had respect for him. Not that it mattered. Impressing Andy Mitchell wasn’t Mark’s lifelong ambition. Yet it was an interesting moment. Mark actually felt a connection with this guy. Was it possible? Could they be friends?
He didn’t have long to think about it, because a second later his ring began to twitch.
Mark didn’t have time to fret about the bad timing. He quickly stuck his hand in his pocket and said, “I’m whipped. I’m gonna lie down in back.”
Before Mitchell could react, Mark clicked open his seat belt and vaulted into the back of the ancient station wagon.
“Take it easy!” Mitchell shouted. “I ain’t got no insurance.”
Mark’s ring was already growing. He pulled it off and crouched into a fetal position, trying to hide it and block the spewing light. He spotted an old, stained tarp in the back. Without a second thought he grabbed it and covered the ring, which had already grown. The tarp kept the light show hidden too. The only thing he couldn’t hide was the music. The jumble of notes grew louder in spite of the fact it was muffled by the tarp.