It was a sumptuously arrayed office with several large maps on the walls. A pipe organ was installed in one corner of the room, and a huge walnut desk with elaborately carved legs stood in the other. A beautiful old record player—a gramophone with a large bluebell-colored horn—sat next to the desk.
As Andy scanned the room, his eyes fell on a glass dome on the desk. There was something beneath it—something instantly recognizable and almost painfully familiar.
My Zoomwriter!
Andy rushed over as quietly as he could. Removing the dome, he retrieved his pen and inspected the jade barrel and nib for any signs of damage.
There were none.
Andy could have shouted with glee! In a million years, he never would have thought he’d find it so easily. Of course, he never would have pictured its being held inside a treehouse, either. Having it back in his possession once more made him feel a strong sense of security.
Andy was about to leave the room when he noticed something else on the desk. Curious, he decided to hazard a closer look.
It was a drawing of an ancient-seeming clock. Instead of numbers, strange figures decorated its face. Looking closer, Andy saw that with each change of the hour, the figures grew progressively more tortured.
On hour one, the figure looked frightened. By hour three, he was covered in what looked like pestilent boils. At hour six, swarms of terrible insects streamed from the sky. By hour nine, the figure had grown thin, his eyes bulging in a manner that clearly indicated starvation.
The symbol depicted where the twelve should have been was the worst one of all: a grinning skull staring back at Andy with lifeless eyes. It didn’t take much interpretation to figure out what that meant.
Death comes at midnight.
Andy shuddered and looked over the rest of the desk. Beside the image of the clock, on a separate piece of paper, was a series of notes. They had been handwritten in an elegant script that Andy realized with a pang of resentment had been written with his own pen. His Zoomwriter. He’d know the ink pigment and nib size anywhere!
As Andy read the notes, all the color drained from his face.
Instructions for finding and activating the Doomsday Device contained in Library of Alexandria. Key of Fate opens vault where last page is contained. Currently held by the J.E.S. Obtain key. Kill Lostmore.
“Doomsday Device?” Andy whispered. “That doesn’t sound good.”
Then he realized the extent of the Potentate’s plan. She had known that Ned had the key and had wanted to get Rusty and the rest of the group out of the way so that she could steal it. Whatever this “Doomsday Device” was, if the sketch was any indication, it was something terribly powerful. Possibly more powerful than any other artifact ever discovered.
Andy thought back to what his grandfather had told him when he’d brought him the key. How mysterious and important he’d said it was, and that what was written in the vault it protected could affect the safety of the entire world.
I’ve got to warn Grandfather that she’s coming!
Andy folded up the drawing and the notes. After placing them in his rucksack, he rushed out of the room. As he was leaving, he suddenly paused. Looking out over the nearest banister, he caught sight of something in the far distance. From so great a height, he could see the entire jungle. Better yet, he could see the Amazon River. He saw a dock and several boats waiting in the harbor. Swarms of people were loading wooden crates onto one of the biggest boats. The men were clad in black, just like the thugs the Potentate commanded.
So that’s why there’s nobody around, Andy thought. They’re leaving this place to go search for the Doomsday Device!
Andy rushed down the stairs two at time, knowing that he had to move fast if he was going to have any chance of rescuing his grandfather and stopping the Collective from destroying the world.
Rusty and the others wasted no time in following Andy’s directions to the river dock. As they drew closer, the group prepared for the fight that was sure to come. Stealing a boat from under the noses of the Collective wasn’t going to be a cakewalk. The highly trained criminals were sure to put up a ferocious fight.
Rusty retrieved his favorite weapon from his rucksack. But as he held up the slingshot he used to shoot his artificial ball-bearing eye, his expression changed. Without the use of his other hand, a slingshot would be useless.
“Maybe you should stick to the pistol,” Andy suggested.
Andy felt sorry for Rusty, but if the sturdy bush pilot was feeling sorry for himself, he didn’t show it. He tossed the slingshot back in his pack and grabbed the pistol instead. “An amateur’s weapon” was all he said. And Andy could tell by the note of disgust in his voice that he thought very little of using guns.
Betty and Dotty had retrieved their katanas and throwing stars. The twins began a series of stretching exercises to limber up for the fight.
Andy’s stomach was in knots. It wasn’t just that they were horribly outnumbered. It was that with every second that went by, he worried that he would be too late to save his grandfather.
Abigail noticed and laid a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get there as quickly as we can,” she said.
Andy nodded but said nothing.
As Abigail picked up a long tree branch, which she twirled expertly like a bo staff, Andy glanced down at his Zoomwriter. He twisted the cap, preparing to fire it. The atomic pulse emitter was incredibly powerful, but it could only be used a couple of times before it needed a recharge. He’d have to pick his moment carefully.
Suddenly, Andy remembered a feature on the pen that he’d completely forgotten about. He slapped his head with
