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“Interesting how?”
“Turn to page 87. ”
Balancing the book in one hand, I carefully turn the pages. Amy taps her foot impatiently, but I don’t want to risk damaging this treasure from Sol-Earth. I turn over page 85. And—
“Where’s page 87?” I ask. I flip page 85 back and forth—but the book jumps straight to page 89.
“Exactly,” Amy says, a huge grin spreading across her face. “It’s so neatly cut out of the book that you’d never notice that page was gone unless you were looking for it. ”
“This is the clue?” I ask, handing the book back to Amy.
“I think the clue was on page 87,” Amy says. “Someone altered whatever clue Orion left in the armory, trying to make us give up and quit looking. Whoever did that also cut the page from the book. ”
“How did you find it?” I ask. I’m trying to remember what any of Orion’s videos said that indicated Shakespearean poetry.
“It was in the fiction room,” Amy says. “Anyway,” she continues when I open my mouth to question her further, “the point is—that missing page. It had a sonnet on it. ” She turns back to page 85 and shows me the book. “This page has Sonnet 29 on it. ” She turns to page 89. “This page has Sonnet 31. Which means that page 87 must have had Sonnet 30 on it. ”
Amy tosses the book to the ground and my eyes go wide to see a treasure of Sol-Earth treated so casually. Amy doesn’t notice, though, as she spins around to the largest door at the end of the hall. “Codes have to be at least four digits long,” she says. “So try 0030. ” She jerks her head to the door on the right of the hatch.
“This is never going to work,” I say.
In answer, Amy punches 0030 in the keypad by her door.
“Told you,” I say when nothing happens after I punch the code in my door too.
Amy picks the book back up and examines it again. “But . . . I was so sure. ”
I look over her shoulder. “I don’t know why you think those sonnets are numbered. They have letters beside them, not numbers. ”
“It’s Roman numerals,” Amy says dismissively. Then she lowers the book, meeting my eyes. “It’s Roman numerals. We shouldn’t use 0030 as the code—we should use XXX. And a zero in front, since there needs to be four digits. ”
She rushes to the keypad and tries 0XXX.
Her door doesn’t unlock. “Why did the Romans use letters instead of numbers?” I ask.
She ignores my question. “Try that lock,” she says, moving closer to the door I’m at.
“You’re getting your hopes up for nothing. Orion was loons. This whole clue chase is loons. ”
“Just. Try. It. ”
I roll my eyes and tap out 0XXX on the keypad.
Beep! Click.
“Frex,” I say in awed surprise.
36
AMY
THE DOOR SWINGS OPEN, AND IT’S NOT UNTIL I TAKE A HUGE gasp of air that I realize I’d been holding my breath. For all my confidence, I can’t believe that worked.
There are ten cubbyholes built into the wall, one suit in each compartment. Cords and tubes are coiled at the base around heavy boots, and shelves over the suits display helmets that, despite a fine layer of dust, still retain some of their mirror-like shine.
Elder rushes inside and runs his hands over the nearest suit. It looks like a painted paper bag but drips from his hand like silk. Behind the silk-like body suit, I can see harder pieces that look like plastic armor.
“Do you know how to use these?” Elder turns, asking me with shining eyes.
