When he refocused, he’d lost Luowski and Dixon. Philby panicked and studied each of the shops.
Next to Peggy’s Yarn Shop, a store window: Bytes, Bits, and Beyond.
A computer store.
Philby crossed the street at a run. The shop’s window was filled with gear, some of it switched on and working. One monitor displayed a live video of Philby looking in. To the right was another monitor divided into four video quadrants.
A handwritten ad read:
Security Special! Package includes 4 wireless cameras and software!
In the lower-right quadrant, two dark shapes were crouched below the counter. Philby wondered how Luowski could be so dumb.
A police siren grew steadily louder.
And closer still.
At first, Philby assumed Luowski had tripped a silent alarm, and was delighted at the idea of the bully getting himself locked up. Then he considered his own position.
Not good. He could easily be mistaken for a lookout. An accomplice.
Tires screeched. A police car slid through the turn onto Jolastraat.
Philby took off running, realizing too late that this was a stupid thing to do. People who ran from cops appeared guilty. Car doors slammed behind him. The dying siren crawled up to a scream again as the police car peeled out.
Cursing under his breath, Philby cut left onto a dirt track. The police car slammed on the brakes, backed up, and took a sharp left, now immediately behind Philby.
Fence, Philby’s brain cried.
The wooden fence was eight feet high, with lumber bracing halfway up. Philby headed for it.
At that same moment, Luowski and Dixon emerged from the shop’s back door cradling large cardboard boxes.
For a split second Philby hesitated: he’d led the police directly to the thieves. That had to be a good thing!
But as the police car slowed and the passenger door swung open, dispensing a woman cop who ran straight at Philby, he knew he was in big trouble. If arrested, he would not only miss the ship’s departure but he’d look like an idiot to the others—all brains, no brawn, though that was far from the truth.
Wayne had recruited Philby in part for his rock-climbing skills; he’d ended up as the group’s techie only after Maybeck shirked the responsibility. Now—unbeknown to the others—he seemed to be being groomed to lead the Keepers, a role currently all Finn’s. Wayne treated him special, gave him secret responsibilities. An arrest would sabotage all he’d been working toward.
Philby scaled the fence like he was flashing a new climbing route, crossed the street, and tried to lose himself in a stand of trees.
The lady cop fell awkwardly into the dust. When she looked up, the tall kid was gone.
* * *
If Dixon hadn’t reacted the way he had, Luowski might have frozen in place. At the very least, Luowski would have dropped the stolen computer before running. But Dixon reacted calmly. He wasn’t afraid. It gave Luowski strength.
Dixon took off without looking back.
Within seconds Luowski was following him across a busy street amid a flurry of protesting car horns.
The police car’s siren cried behind them, but at a distance now; they had the jump on them, and Dixon and Luowski shot though a narrow gap between buildings, knowing a police car would not fit. The driver should have followed on foot. By pursuing in the car, he’d lost his advantage.
Dixon and Luowski seized it.
MAYBECK AND CHARLENE had disembarked at seven when Cast Members were allowed off the ship. They’d headed for separate taxis and left for separate caves.
Ten minutes out of the city, Maybeck’s driver drove him onto a road of sand no wider than the car. After a long, bouncing drive, the taxi arrived at a turnout where three boulders blocked vehicles from entering a weed-infested, trodden-down footpath lined with cactus and discolored by litter. Maybeck told the driver to wait for him.
Maybeck passed a boulder; decaying wrought iron bars blocked access to a dark hole where rock met sand. Hoping that wasn’t the cave in question, Maybeck hurried up a path that climbed a small hill, now facing a smooth rock formation that rose unexpectedly out of the sand. Giant boulders lay atop one another at odd angles, creating dark spaces between them. The path led under and through the boulders, revealing shaded spaces, but not exactly caves.
Bugs swarmed around Maybeck’s head.
None of the spaces matched the copy of the sketch he carried in his back pocket. The path continued through more of the partial caves and broke out again into sunlight.
A bust.
Back in the taxi, he described the cave in Jess’s drawing to the driver.
“The cave I’m looking for is on flat ground.” He passed the driver the copy of the sketch. “The cave opening is like a mouth about to smile.”
“A poet,” the driver said.