“My dad’s, um, tracking the path of what they’re calling an ASO—Anomalous Space Object. Several, actually. Seven, to be precise, ASO-Two through ASO-Eight.”
Cruz lifted a plucked eyebrow. “What happened to ASO-One?”
“Oh, ASO-One already landed on Earth years ago. They think all eight ASOs are pieces from the same source, an asteroid or planetoid that blew up, sending some interstellar shrapnel our way. One of the pieces—ASO-One—managed to catch a ride on Jupiter’s gravity well and got here ahead of the rest. Just about nineteen years ahead. The other fragments took a longer route. But ASO-Two through -Eight are scheduled to intercept Earth over the next few weeks.”
Shade saw that Cruz had not made the connection, not figured it out, and that was a little disappointing. But then, a flicker and a frown, and Cruz made direct eye contact and asked, “Nineteen years ago? Wasn’t that . . .”
Shade nodded slowly. “Mmmm. Nineteen years ago ASO-One entered Earth’s orbit and slammed into a nuclear power plant just north of the town of Perdido Beach, California.?
??
That froze Cruz solid for a long minute. Her eyes searched Shade’s face, trying to see whether Shade was just kidding. Because this wasn’t some little secret, like “I’ve got a crush on . . .” This was a secret two high school kids who barely knew each other should not possess.
Cruz swallowed a lump. “You’re talking about the alien rock?”
“The rock that changed the world,” Shade confirmed. “The rock that rewrote the laws of physics. The rock that turned random teen sociopaths into superpowered killers. That rock.”
“And you’re . . . you’re saying there are more coming?”
“According to my father’s calculations, and he is very good at his job. He’s tracking the rocks. One lands today off the coast of Scotland. That’s ASO-Two. Another, ASO-Three, hits in just a few days.”
Cruz shifted uncomfortably, obviously realizing that Shade was no longer making idle chitchat. A message was being delivered. A question hung in the air.
“It’s supposed to land in Iowa. Or it was,” Shade said. “Now, with some updated numbers, they think it will land in Nebraska. There’ll be a whole government task force there to grab it: HSTF-Sixty-Six: Homeland Security Task Force Sixty-Six. Yes, they’ll be there with helicopters and police escort and various scientists. In Nebraska.”
The air between them seemed to vibrate.
“Nebraska,” Cruz said.
Shade nodded. “Uh-huh.” Time to go all-in, to trust her instincts. “But the truth is it will land in Iowa, as originally calculated.”
“So, um . . .”
“So . . . someone changed the inputs,” Shade said, her voice low and silky. “Someone with access to my father’s computer. My dad is a genius, but his memory for little things isn’t great, so he sticks a Post-it to the bottom of his keyboard. You know, for his password.”
The play of emotion across Cruz’s face was fascinating to Shade. First Cruz thought she was hearing wrong. Then she thought Shade was teasing. And then, finally, even before she asked, she knew Shade was telling the truth.
Cruz, Shade thought, should never play poker: her face revealed all. She could practically see the shiver go up Cruz’s spine.
Cruz said, “You.” It was not a question.
“I’m pretty good at math,” Shade said. “And Wolfram Alpha helps.”
“You changed your dad’s calculations?”
Shade nodded and tilted her head to the “quizzical” position. “The question is, Cruz, why did I change the numbers?”
It was a clear test, a clear challenge, and Cruz passed, saying, “You’re going to try to take the rock.”
“No,” Shade said. “I won’t try. I’ll succeed.” Then, after a beat, added, “Especially if you help me.”
CHAPTER 2
Dropping the Name Tag
“YOU KNOW . . . YOU look familiar,” the woman said, narrowing her eyes. She was a mother with a two-year-old in her shopping basket and a five-year-old tagging along and playing with the candy in the checkout rack.
“I get that a lot,” the cashier said.