Kingdom Keepers III(48)
MKPFP IFP TDIEPR VKPFP RMIFR CQW’M JFQV HT 2736/2730
THERE -RE —ES WHERE ST-RS —’T -R-W
“So I did! Good catch!”
“I is A,” Finn announced loudly, wanting to be more than the errand boy.
His mother nodded and scribbled in the letter.
MKPFP IFP TDIEPR VKPFP RMIFR CQW’M JFQV HT 2736/2730
THERE ARE —A-ES WHERE STARS —’T -R-W
“We’re getting there now,” whispered Willa, as if by speaking too loudly she might jinx it.
His mother read, substituting words. “‘There are…traces…spaces….’”
“Places,” Willa said.
“Places,” Mrs. Whitman said, nodding. “Yes, I think you’re right: ‘There are places where stars…’”
“Isn’t, won’t, can’t or don’t,” Finn said, supplying the only four-letter contractions that seemed plausible.
“We can eliminate isn’t because ‘stars’ is plural,” Mrs. Whitman said. “We can eliminate can’t because we’ve identified the letters A and W and there’s no A or W in the word. So it’s got to be don’t.”
“P!” Willa announced. “The T of the code—the last letter—is the same as the first letter of places.”
Finn mumbled to himself. “He made it so we could figure it out.”
“Your teacher?” his mother said. She never missed anything. He could be thinking something up in his room and his mother could somehow overhear it.
“Our teacher,” Philby answered for him, seeing that Finn was tongue-tied.
“Up,” said Willa. “The last word is up. There are places where stars…don’t…grow up.”
“We did it!” Willa proclaimed.
“You did it, Mrs. Whitman,” Philby corrected.
“We did it as a team,” Mrs. Whitman said in a tone of voice that Finn recognized as preachy. “I really had nothing to do it with. I was more of a coach than a participant.” His mother was always trying to turn everything into a life message. If a bug died on the porch light it was a life message. If a mirage appeared on the highway, instead of just being cool it had to be a life message too.
“Mo-om!” Finn said in his best whine.
“Okay,” she said, anticipating his objection before it was enunciated.
“The Milky Way,” Willa said. “Stars just don’t grow up—they burn out and die.”
“But of course they grow up,” Philby said. “They can’t die unless they are created. Stars are constantly being created and burning up.”
“It’s the natural order of the universe,” said Mrs. Whitman.
“You worked for NASA, mom,” Finn said, giving her a chance to redeem herself. “What’s with stars not growing up?”
“It would appear to be some kind of riddle,” she answered. “What teacher assigned this? Science or math?”
Willa answered, “Math,” at the same exact instant Finn answered, “Science.”
His mother gave Finn the evil eye; she knew something was up.
“Finn?”
Philby stepped in. “They’re both right in a way,” he said, sounding typically Philby-convincing. “Because it’s an inter-school competition, several teachers from each school were involved in creating the code and, I suppose, whatever riddle is involved.”
Philby was presently the color of a ripe raspberry. Finn hoped his mother didn’t know him well enough to notice—but his mother didn’t miss much.
“Well, that makes sense,” said Mrs. Whitman.
“What kind of riddle?” Finn asked.
“Philby is right,” she said. “Stars are constantly being created, and stars are constantly burning out after millions of years of burning. What makes it more complicated—much more complicated—is that we are seeing the stars, thousands, hundreds of thousands, of years after whatever happened. It takes light all that time to reach earth. So by the time we identify a star it may actually no longer be there.”
“An illusion,” Willa said.
“Yes!” Mrs. Whitman said. “In a manner of speaking. But not exactly an illusion, since it did exist in the first place, perhaps for millions of years.”
“‘There are places where stars don’t grow up,’” Willa repeated.
“On a Christmas tree,” Mrs. Whitman said. “Or in a stained-glass window.”
“A church!” Finn said.
“Do you suppose it’s some sort of scavenger hunt?” Mrs. Whitman asked.
Finn glanced at the others. “I…ah…I think we can take it from here, Mom.”