She looked back at him through the gap between the two front seats. “I mean your friends aren’t Makers.”
“Wait,” he said. “They’re not my friends. And, yes, they can be jerks most of the time. But the way they’ve been acting lately, especially just now, that’s not normal even for them. Something’s got to be wrong with them. Did you hear the way they sounded when they talked?”
“Monotone?” Keira suggested.
“Yes,” Eric said, his eyes widening. “Did they talk to you when you tried to stop them earlier?”
“No, but it’s standard.”
Eric stared at her for a second, then said in a voice much too loud for the car, “Standard for what? Robots in a science fiction movie?”
The silence that followed stretched for nearly half a minute. Finally, Eric said, “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Mother Trouble told him. “You shouldn’t be sorry. You have a lot on your mind.” She looked at him through the rearview mirror. “You’re worried about her, aren’t you? Your mother?”
The mention of his mom caught him by surprise. He was worried about her, every second of the day. He knew she couldn’t have gone on a business trip. Wherever she was, he had this dreadful feeling it had to do with him.
“Yes. I’m worried,” he whispered.
“Of course you are,” Mother Trouble said. “I’ll bet your mom would be proud of the fact you’re doing everything you can to bring her back. If you stay strong, you will see her again.”
“Are you sure?”
“As sure as I can be.”
He knew that wasn’t a guarantee, but it did make him feel a bit better.
Mother Trouble glanced at Fiona. “I think you should tell him.”
“I think we should wait,” Fiona whispered back.
But Eric’s hearing was better than most. “Wait for what?”
She huffed out a breath, then twisted in her seat again and looked directly at him. “Until we’re sure of what we’re dealing with.”
“Honey,” Mother Trouble said. “I’m pretty sure we know what we’re dealing with.”
“But it’s still just a guess,” Fiona said. “That’s not the way Dad taught us to do things.”
“Your father’s not in charge anymore. Your brother is. You need to remember that.”
Silence once again fell over the car, but this time it seemed different than before. Eric could feel the tension between the three Trouble family members. It was like Fiona had crossed a line she wasn’t supposed to.
Finally, Fiona said, “Mom…I’m…I’m…”
“Sweetheart,” Mother Trouble said. “I’m the one who’s sorry. If you feel like you should wait, then you should wait. I’d forgotten for a moment that you’re the team leader. That means it’s your decision, not mine.”
Fiona’s silence let everyone know that waiting was what they were going to do. But Eric had reached the point where he didn’t care what she thought was best. He wanted answers. As he leaned forward to tell her just that, Maggie grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. When he looked at her, she shook her head.
“Not now,” she mouthed.
She glanced past him at Keira, then up at Fiona. Eric followed her gaze.
Keira had turned so that she was looking out the window like she wanted to be anywhere else but there. And Fiona had tilted her head down and was staring at her lap. It was obvious to Eric that whatever they were thinking about had nothing to do with his problems. Maybe his questions could wait a little longer.
After ten minutes, the still-silent car pulled up next to the Lady Candice. At first, no one moved. Finally, Fiona and her mother looked at each other.
Mother Trouble smiled. “It’s okay, dear. Like I said, you didn’t say anything wrong.”
Fiona seemed to be holding off a tear as she tried to smile back.
Her mother reached out and touched Fiona’s cheek, then turned to the back seat. “All right. Let’s go. There’s work to be done.”
Once outside, Eric whispered to Maggie, “What exactly was that all about?”
She looked at him as if he were stupid, then shook her head and said nothing.
A noise from inside the plane preceded Mr. Trouble’s appearance in the doorway. “Ah, good, you’re here,” he said. “Everyone safe, I assume?”
Fiona wiped a hand across her cheek and said to the others, “Wait here.”
She strode with purpose over to the ladder and climbed up. The moment she reached the doorway, she started talking to her brother. Every few seconds, he would look past her toward Eric and Maggie, the expression on his face growing more and more serious each time.
When Fiona was through, Mr. Trouble patted her on the back and moved so she could pass inside. Once she was out of sight, he clapped his hands together and said, “All right, then. Mom, I think we need you up here for an XK-eleven.”
“I thought as much,” Mother Trouble said, heading toward the plane.
“Eric? Maggie? Keira will take you to the workshop.”
“Follow me,” Keira said.
She led them around to the very back of the aircraft, then opened a small metal panel. Inside was a touch screen that came to life when she brushed a fingertip across it.
“Stand clear,” she said.
As she touched the screen again, an electric motor began whirling somewhere just inside the craft. Almost immediately, a large section of the back of the plane lowered all the way to the ground like a drawbridge. Mounted on the other side of the section were stairs that led up the ramp into the Lady Candice.
“Hello!” Uncle Colin called down from the top of the ramp. As before, he was wearing his bright white lab coat. “Come in, come in.”
Eric shared a look with Maggie, then shrugged and headed up the ramp. Maggie followed behind, with Keira bringing up the rear.
As soon as Eric neared the top, Uncle Colin said, “I’m so happy you’re still with us.” With that, he turned and opened the door behind him. “Now, everyone inside.”
The room they were led into was larger than Eric expected. It took up what he guessed to be about a third of the plane. It was windowless and grew wider and taller going forward as it followed the shape of the fuselage. It was also filled with some of the oddest items Eric had ever seen on an airplane, either in person or in the movies.
Along each wall was a waist-high workbench complete with vices and clamps to hold things in place. Little sets of drawers containing who-knew-what ran along the back of the opposing benches, while tools hung on the wall above, held in place by plastic snaps. Under the benches were cabinets with clear plastic doors.
On the floor in front of each workbench were odd-looking metal tracks. They were made even odder by the wooden stools — one per side — attached to them. Eric figured they were designed so a person could sit on the stool and move from end to end as they worked without falling over.
On the walls that didn’t have hanging tools above the workbenches were dozens of electrical panels and devices. There were also several television monitors suspended from the ceiling on poles that seemed to allow the screens to be moved up out of the way or down into view as needed.
The wall at the other end of the room, opposite the door, was a floor-to-ceiling dry-erase board covered with notes, calculations, and a few anime character drawings. Keira’s contribution, no doubt.
Uncle Carl was sitting on one of the stools, fiddling with the dial of a device mounted to the wall in front of him. On the device’s four-by-four-inch screen were several yellow lines, their positions changing each time Uncle Carl turned the dial.
“Sit, sit,” Uncle Colin said.
Eric looked around. There was only the one empty stool. He motioned for Maggie to take it but she shook her head.