The Conspiracy Game: A Tully Harper Novel: A Tully Harper Novel (The Tully Harper Series Book 1) Read online

  Most of my classmates bowed their heads but kept peeking at me through half-closed eyes and whispering to one another under their breath. The impact video ran again and again.

  Tabitha never closed her eyes. “It will be fine,” she mouthed to me. She leaned in to grab my hand, but her hand went right through my holographic arm and rested on the desk. I was just a ghost to her. About that time Counselor Jenkins entered the room and motioned for me. I was about to get up to talk to her, but I heard my Aunt Selma’s voice cutting into my Holoclass. Then I felt a yank on my hologlasses and Dr. Vindler, my friends, and the video disappeared.

  THE CRATER

  “Stars, Tully! I told your dad space is risky business.” Standing in front of me now was my aunt in her overalls and work boots. She dragged me into her living room where we plopped down on her couch. She was watching the breaking news on her television. I felt like I was in a time machine. She’s the only person I know who owns a working TV anymore. I mean, it’s the year 2069. I still didn’t know what was going on, so I tried to stay positive.

  “Come on, Auntie. Scaring a moose out of your garden—now that’s a dangerous job. You could have left me in class for a while.”

  “I was about to pull you out of class to chop firewood anyway. I guess we can watch some TV first.” Ah, the beauty of having a dad that travels for business, even if it is space! My aunt considers herself a survivalist. She lives in the Middle of Nowhere, Alaska. That’s the name of the town. Middle of Nowhere. Population: 5 (or 6 when I’m there).

  “Ooh, this doesn’t look pretty, Tullyboy,” she said. “Not pretty at all.”

  “Dad’s not looking for pretty rocks on Mars, Auntie. He’s looking for water.”

  “Well, they found trouble, not water. Here on the TV they’re saying something about an asteroid impact on Mars,” my aunt yelled.

  “Yeah, we already heard.”

  “Well, the reporter just said they couldn’t find your dad.”

  “What?” I looked at her television. “MARS DISASTER 2069” scrolled behind the newscaster as she started to read the updates.

  “Breaking news from Mars: there has been an apparent asteroid impact on the red planet. A Space Alliance ship was in the vicinity. All seven crew members are accounted for except Commander Mike Harper, who was searching for water on the South Pole of Mars by himself.”

  “By himself? Dad, what were you thinking?”

  I pictured the third circle that Dr. Vindler had drawn. It must have been my dad’s rover. Over the next hour the news went from bad to worse. The media didn’t have any more information, but that didn’t stop them from reporting. They showed all sorts of asteroid craters from around the solar system. They interviewed experts and asked them stupid questions: Could anyone survive an asteroid impact? What would you see right before an asteroid hit you? Isn’t that what killed the dinosaurs? They ran animation of an astronaut getting blown through the air by an asteroid impact. Like I needed help picturing the explosion. Thanks, guys. Then they mentioned me: “It appears Commander Harper is a single parent. He has one teenage son. Our thoughts and prayers go out to that brave young man tonight.” That brave young man felt numb, sitting on his aunt’s couch and praying.

  My aunt made me some food, but I wasn’t hungry, especially not for the only three things she ate: canned asparagus, potatoes, and caribou meat. She mumbled on and on.

  “I told your father a million times there’s nothing in space worth risking life and limb. He wouldn’t listen though, Tully. Wouldn’t hear a thing about it from me.” She made some coffee and rubbed my shoulders, but I shrugged her off.

  I walked into the bathroom to escape the world and looked at myself in the mirror. The same guy as always stared back at me—messy brown hair, brown eyes, and a scar on my chin where I fell when I was a toddler. Just some kid who used to feel like life wasn’t all that fair. Now I know life isn’t fair. My dad is gone. The universe took him from me. I will be stuck in Alaska forever. Those thoughts didn’t stay with me very long. Don’t give into that, I told myself. Thinking like that won’t help. Be strong like your dad. Be strong for him.

  My aunt yelled for me again, and I returned to my spot on the couch. The newscasters finally had something to report. A shaky video appeared on the screen. A banner above it read “LIVE FEED FROM MARS!”

  “Stars, they can’t get anything right. That’s not a live feed,” I said.

  “What do you mean?” Aunt Selma asked.

  “It takes thirty minutes for the signal to travel from Mars to Earth, Auntie. Whatever we’re about to see happened thirty minutes ago.” But the newscaster continued.

  “…Yes! We have a live feed from Mars. The other astronauts have almost reached the asteroid crater. You can see the red dust still hanging in the air from the recent impact. We do not see any signs of Commander Harper or his vehicle, but we must warn you, folks. This could be graphic. Harper is feared dead.” The camera was obviously attached to a Martian rover, kind of like a dune buggy, because the image bounced up and down. I thought I was going to be sick from all the movement and mayhem. Be strong, be strong.

  The Martian rover finally neared the edge of the crater, which was was about the size and shape of a baseball diamond. We couldn’t judge the depth.

  “Mars One, this doesn’t look good.” It was Buckshot Lewis, my dad’s pilot on the mission. The camera panned toward the remains of my dad’s Martian rover. It was flipped over and covered in dust. A boulder had crushed one side.

  “This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening,” I said to my aunt, over and over again.

  Buckshot leapt from his vehicle and bounded over to my dad’s wrecked rover, covering ten feet with each step in the Martian gravity. He scanned the accident scene and reported back. “Mars One, I don’t know where the Commander is. His rover is a total loss. We will check the crater.”

  “Uh, that’s a negative, Buckshot. That could be dangerous. Search the area but do not approach the crater.”

  Not approach the crater? My dad might be down there. I imagined my dad, struggling to breathe or to push a monstrous rock off his leg. How could they waste any time? Fortunately, Buckshot didn’t listen to instructions.

  “Mars One, sorry. Couldn’t hear you there. You said to check the crater, right? Will do.”

  “That’s a negative, Buckshot. Buckshot, repeat, negative.”

  “No, that’s a positive, Mars One. I am checking that crater whether you like it or not.”

  Buckshot leapt over the edge of the crater. The other astronauts followed behind him in the rover, the camera bouncing like mad. Suddenly Buckshot spoke again.

  “Mars One, we have a problem,” said Buckshot. “Do you have visual?”

  “No, not yet. What do you see?”

  “I have no earthly idea. Get visual! Guys, bring that rover down here!”

  More terrible images flashed through my mind. I couldn’t close my eyes. I couldn’t pray. It was hopeless. My aunt rubbed my shoulders, and this time I didn’t have the energy to shrug her off. The screen kept bouncing. Finally, the camera settled at the edge of the crater. Half of it was in darkness and half in light, but the picture was fuzzy.

  “Buckshot, we have visual. It’s fuzzy on our end. Please describe what you see.”

  “Bless me, if that ain’t Mike Harper standing down there.”

  My heart almost exploded. My dad was alive.

  “Buckshot, what’s going on?”

  “Good golly, I don’t know, Mars One.”

  “Where is the asteroid?”

  “Forget about asteroids! Get that camera adjusted right, Lewis. Houston, give us a second and you can see for yourself.” The images went from fuzzy to crystal clear. I crawled off the couch toward the TV for a better view.

  My dad wasn’t the only thing in the crater. What was with him would shape the history of the solar system forever.

  THE UNEXPECTED

  A shadow shrouded half of the red crat
er in black. In the middle of the crater, right on the edge of that shadow stood an astronaut. Red dust covered his white spacesuit. He was looking at something glowing in the shadow. His helmet—the only thing protecting him from death—was tucked into the crook of his arm. He turned toward the camera, looking calm, composed, unfazed, with his blonde crew cut and sharp blue eyes. There was a pause in which the universe held its breath and considered that impossible scene.

  The pause felt too long for me though. My dad’s life was on the line—or it had been thirty minutes ago. “Don’t just stand there, you idiots!” I finally yelled at the TV. “Make him put on his helmet. He’s going to die!” But he didn’t, even though there’s practically no oxygen in the Martian atmosphere. How was he alive? What was he looking at in the shadows?

  The camera adjusted and scanned the crater to find what held my dad’s attention. In the shadow a few feet from my dad a shape emerged—a red sphere came into focus. It rotated slowly in place. A red mist trailed from its surface. The object looked like a miniature planet, suspended in mid-air. An occasional spark lit the sphere like a lightning strike viewed from many miles away. Under the glowing sphere was something equally surprising—a small fountain of water—exactly what my dad had been looking for on his mission.

  The whole thing looked like some mysterious surreal painting. He should be dead, I thought. What is keeping him alive? Is that really water? I couldn’t understand it at all. Nobody could.

  “Houston, it appears Mike found water on Mars,” said Buckshot. “And then there’s that glowing ball of red gas down there. That ain’t no asteroid. Mike appears to be breathing, but I have no idea how. We’re going to get a helmet on Commander Harper and get him to safety. We’ll report back when we can.”

  In that moment my dad went from “asteroid victim” to “world famous explorer.” I went from “orphan” to “son of a hero.” I was exhausted.

  My aunt hugged me. “I told him space was dangerous! I just say it all the time. That darn fool and his missions of doom and disaster. And now he’s gone and found something useful for once—a fountain of water on dusty old Mars. But shouldn’t he put on that helmet?”

  For the first time ever I agreed with my aunt.

  “Auntie, what is that other thing in the crater? That’s not an asteroid. Nobody’s ever seen a thing like that.”

  That “thing” didn’t even have a name at first. I had no idea that what was floating in the middle of that crater would change my life forever.

  After that my aunt was on the phone constantly. She has one of those phones that attaches to the wall with a cord, and the thing rang like a crazy church bell for hours every day. Like her TV, it’s ancient. Anyway, she answered every single call. Out of the first one hundred calls, only one of them was a friend of the family. The rest were reporters, strangers, or weirdoes all wanting to know the same thing—Is Commander Harper okay? Why wasn’t he wearing a helmet? What was that thing in the crater? Do you believe in aliens? Will you give us a movie rights to his story? It drove me crazy.

  My aunt enjoyed it for some reason. Suddenly she loved my dad’s job and called him a hero after all these years of calling him a fool. Jeez. Finally, we received a call from the Space Alliance. They asked me if I wanted to contact my dad on board The Adversity. Of course I did. The Space Alliance used hologram technology for official reasons, like beaming an engineer on board to look at a problem. They never used the holophone for personal calls, so I was glad they made an exception.

  The next morning I took a deep breath, put on my hologlasses and earbuds, and waited while the Alliance established a connection on board my dad’s ship. It was the same routine as school. The glasses locked on to my gaze. A soft voice spoke from the earbuds: “Audiovisual uplink beginning.” Suddenly my surroundings went black. There was a dead silence. Then I heard a phone ringing and a distinct click. “Uplink confirmed,” said the voice. Moments later, “Uplink complete.” Fuzzy shapes began to emerge before my eyes: a bed, a desk, and a man. Soon after I found myself in my dad’s spacious living quarters on board The Adversity.

  He sat at his desk wearing his Astros baseball cap. I sat on his small bed. I noticed a picture of us fishing together on the wall, along with one of his favorite Latin quotes: “AD ASTRA PER ASPERA.” Through hardships to the stars. He looked like he had been through some hardships, too. Wrinkles appeared under his eyes when he smiled at me. I jumped up to hug him but my arms went right through. We were just ghosts to each other until he got home. It made me angry so I threw a punch instead.

  “Oh, a holographic hug and punch combo. Thanks, Tully.”

  “That’s not funny. What were you thinking? Never go out alone again, dad. You know better than that.”

  “No risk, no reward, son.”

  “No risk, no asteroid victim. On TV they were showing astronauts getting smushed by asteroids.”

  “That’s never happened, and this wasn’t an asteroid.”

  “Well, what is that thing? It almost killed you.”

  “It sure did. It knocked me unconscious and made quite a crater. I have my theories on what it is, but I don’t know. The only thing I know for sure is that there’s water on the South Pole of Mars. We achieved our mission. Humans can colonize this planet more fully than ever. There’s enough water here for millions of people.”

  I sat back down on the bed and calmed myself down. “That is pretty cool for you, dad. Uh, good job.”

  “It’s cool for all of us. Just think: the solar system is getting smaller, not bigger. The planets are just like continents used to be. Who knows? Your children might one day live on Mars.”

  “My kids may be Martians, huh? They might like Martian football. The MFL?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  “But what about that thing in the crater?”

  “You sound like your buddy Sunjay with all these questions—or maybe Dr. Chakravorty. We will hand it over to researchers when we return.”

  “Wait, you’re bringing it back to Earth? After it almost killed you?”

  “Not my first choice, but we’ve already brought it on board at the Alliance’s request. Researchers are stumbling over themselves to prepare for our arrival. Sunjay’s father will lead the research. ‘Mike,’ he said, ‘you found an object that produces oxygen, finds subterranean water, and creates and stores energy in novel ways. Bring that back to me and I will end world hunger.’ He’s probably overstating things, but I hope he’s right. If the Alliance can tap into that energy, it could solve problems on Earth as well as help us explore space. Oh, and we can stop calling it ‘it.’ They decided on a name—the Harper Device. I didn’t vote for that either, but they want to use our family name so people will remember how it was found.”

  “You mean how it almost flattened you? Someone said you were almost the world’s first ‘flatstronaut.’” I said, shaking my head.

  My dad grinned. “Flatstronaut. Buckshot loves bad puns. I’ll have to tell him that one.”

  “Yeah, real funny. I was about to start planning your funeral! So you’re going to get interviewed by a zillion reporters and the paparazzi are going to chase you around and everything.”

  “I guess, but I’d rather just be an astronaut and a dad. The Space Alliance understands this was a tough mission. Because of that, they did promise me something—the rest of the year off.”

  “No way! So we’ll both be in Houston for the rest of the year?”

  “Yes.”

  “And I don’t have to go back to crazy Aunt Selma’s survival cabin and live off caribou and asparagus until next year?”

  “Roger that. We could both use a good Tex-Mex meal. Please tell your aunt hello for me. Just give us a few more weeks to get home and I’ll see you back in Houston.”

  That was the best news ever. No more “public relations” and chopping wood and scaring moose out of the garden, just hanging out with my dad. Back to Houston, back to summer, and back to my friends, Sunjay and Tabitha. Maybe
the Harper Device was a blessing in disguise. Life seemed like it was about to be simple again.

  WEIRD THINGS ABOUT FAME, HOLOCLASSING, AND DOODLES

  Life did not get simple again. I had to stay in Alaska two more weeks before returning to Houston, and for the next two weeks my aunt kept up her “public relations campaign” for my dad. The phone rang. The doorbell rang. Aunt Selma answered every single ring or knock. She was either at the door or on her old-timey phone doing interviews. It didn’t matter if it was one of her friends, a reporter, a politician, the mailman, a friend of our family, or just some curious stranger. She sat on her recliner in her big work boots, jeans, and a heavy flannel shirt and talked all day about her brother the hero, discoverer of the Harper Device and water on Mars. She went on and on: “Oh, honey, that old Harper Device is something else. I bet it will cure cancers and make for world peace.” “Oh, yes, I’m sure he’s fine. My brother is a hero and all. He’s tough as pack mule.” “You can bet your boots we’re excited about the big discovery. Water on that dusty old planet? Just amazing.” Tuning her out was impossible. I didn’t want to think about my dad’s near-death experience. I just wanted to have him back home.

  Finally I asked her, “Auntie, would it be okay if you didn’t take every single call? Or at least don’t invite everyone in for tea. This is driving me crazy.”

  “Well, honey, we don’t want to be rude, do we?” she asked.

  “Yes, let’s be rude! Then maybe they’ll stop calling or coming by.”

  “Tullyboy, that’s no way to talk to your Auntie! Everybody’s excited right now about your daddy and you’d better be, too. He’s alive, for goodness sake! Maybe you’ll be more excited to go split firewood until sunset,” she growled. “You better take the heavy gloves. It’s below freezing right now.”

  “When is it not below freezing in the Middle of Nowhere!” I yelled.

  She was about to ground me or make me cut down the entire forest, but her phone rang—the first call I was thankful for all day. I walked out of the room hoping she would forget about the firewood. Fortunately she did. I still had some nasty blisters from my last trip to the woodpile.