Текст книги "Bouncing Off the Moon"

Автор книги: David Gerrold

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"What if the clicker breaks?"

"I will write letter and get refund."

"I mean—what happens to me?"

"You will not have to worry about letter. I will."

"Oh, good. I hate writing letters."

"All right, watch me now. I will go first. To show you how it is done. Pay attention to feet. Watch what I do. Do you know how to rap-pel?"

"Rappel?"

"Down mountainside. Kick, slide, kick, slide—? You have seen pictures, da?We are going to rappel. But not down– up.You do not want to scrape bubble against rock, do you? Nyet.Hook feet in loops there. Pull knees up. Brace yourself against wall. Kick away from wall. Then pull self up. Lift knees again and brace self to come back. Hold self against wall, kick and pull. Brace, hold, kick and pull. Understand? Watch. I will go first. I will make it look easy. Then you will follow. You will make it look clumsy. We will all laugh at you. But you will get to top without mishap, because you will be slow and careful. And we will all pat you on back, and say, 'good job, well-done, little dingaling.' And you will have great adventure to tell grandchildren about someday. Unless you are like Mickey and Douglas. Then you will have to tell someone else's grandchildren. Not to worry, I will lend you some of mine. They will not believe that senile old Lunatic smuggled crazy terries across Lunnaya zhopa.Bottom of moon. Moon's rectum. Place where sun never shines. Truthfully, it neverdoes. We will be there soon. The priamaya kishka.You will tell them you were crazy terrie. They will believe. Hokay? Watch now, here I go."

Was he serious? Or was he saying all that stuff to distract me? Either way, it worked. I was distracted.

Alexei pulled himself up the cliff wall in a series of three fast bounces. His movements were quick, but they were also deliberate and careful. He'd done this before and his experience showed. He stretched his right arm as high as he could, grabbed and clicked. He kicked away from the wall, pulled himself up as high as he could, grabbed and clicked. His feet came back to the wall and he braced himself. He looked down at me and grinned, unclicked his lower hand, reached up, grabbed, clicked, kicked away from the wall, and pulled.

Once more and he was at the top. He kicked away from the wall and pulled sharply at the same time—he floated over the edge of the shelf and disappeared from view for a moment. He popped back into view and waved down at us. "Hokay, dingaling! Your turn."

"It's Dingillian," I corrected.

"If you can get to top, I will learn new pronunciation. Until you get up, you are still dingaling."

Douglas moved up beside me. "You okay, Chigger?"

"Yeah, I can do it. Can you?"

He nodded. "I'm getting tired, but I can do it. Let's get this over with."

I closed my eyes and visualized the steps—what they would feel like. I took a deep breath. I reached up with my right hand. I grabbed. I squeezed. The glove went click. "Remember to kick!" Alexei shouted. I had almost forgotten. I kicked and pulled at the same time—I was a little heavier than I expected, but a lot lighter than I was used to. I bounced up and away from the wall. I reached as high as I could with my left hand, grabbed, and clicked. "Pull your knees up—" I had plenty of time to brace, everything was slow motion. My feet hit the wall. "Don't look down—" Too late. I was already looking.

I was higher than I thought. But I wasn't scared. I'd been this high when I did the rope climb in gym class. As long as I didn't look back to see the rest of the slope we'd climbed—

I took a breath, visualized what I had to do next. And did it. This time it was easier. Unclicked the right hand. Kicked away. Swung up. Grabbed. Clicked. Pulled up knees. Braced. Looked up. Alexei waved. He was closer than I expected.

"Is good. One more. Da?

" Da."Closed eyes. Took a breath. Opened eyes. Unclicked, kicked, swung, pulled, grabbed, clicked, braced. It was easier to do than describe.

Alexei was almost close enough to reach out and pull me up. "Kick and pull sharply up," he said. I did, and he grabbed my arm—both arms—and swung me over the top, setting me down firmly on a slab of Lunar rock. He reached over and slapped the top of my head. "Is good job, little dingaling. Not as clumsy as I expected."

The monkey patted my head too. I'd almost forgotten it was there.

"I thought you said you weren't going to call me dingaling anymore."

He pointed to the wall above us, where it turned into blazing sunlit rock. "I said when we get to top!"

TO THE TOP

Douglas came up the wall next. Despite the weight of Stinky on his back, he came up easily. At least, it looked easy to me. He was only a little bit out of breath when he bounced onto the shelf. Mickey came right after; he pulled the inflatable airlock up after himself.

We took a rest break then. We weren't catching our breath so much as cooling off. Alexei wanted us to turn off our heaters and radiate away some of our heat. I don't know how much good he thought that would do, I was already cold, and it scared me to think of the kind of heat we'd be experiencing in a few minutes. But he kept saying, "Not to worry. Is just an extra precaution. Bubbles are insulated both ways."

When we checked each other's air, Alexei advised each of us to release a few seconds of oxygen into our bubbles from the spare tanks we carried. "And put rebreather tube in mouth for climb up, please?" I was beginning to think this was far more dangerous than he was letting on.

To the east, the hills were outlined by an edge of light. Sunrise. We were just below the edge of their shadow. Just how bright was the full force of the sun in hard vacuum? We were about to find out—one good bounce upward and we'd know.

I reached up and touched the monkey on my head. "Why don't you swing down and climb into the harness on my back?" I said. To my surprise, it understood exactly what I wanted. It bounced down, climbed up under the poncho, and secured itself in the harness on my back, just like Stinky was secured on Douglas's back. "Thank you," I said to it. I bounced lightly on my feet, testing my balance.

"Hokay," said Alexei. "Anybody ready? I go now. Watch please?" He grabbed the cord. "Here I go—" He bounced up into the light. His bubble glittered with reflections. And then he was up and up and up and over the top and gone.

A second later his voice came loud in our ears. "I am fine, thank you for worrying." He added, "Is not as hard as it looks. Is nice view from up here. Charles dingaling, is your turn."

Douglas gave me a good luck slap on top of the head, and I clicked onto the rope. I closed my eyes, visualized, and leapt—

The sudden bright wash of light from the east felt like a hammer-blow. Even my goggles weren't enough to keep me from being dazzled. I felt like I'd opened a furnace door, just from the glare alone. The whole inside of the bubble sparkled with reflections that wouldn't quit.

–and grabbed the rope and clicked. Released, kicked, and pulled. Suddenly my goggles were blurry, with hot tears streaming from my eyes. From the light. Grabbed for the rope, missed—clicked anyway, and swung around out of control for a moment, turning first away from the sun, and then right back into the full force of it—I unclicked my empty hand, looked up for the rope, found it, grabbed, clicked, remembered to test, banged the wall, I'd forgotten to bring my knees up, bounced and hung for a moment, and said, "Oh, chyort!"The tears were real now. Tears of frustration.

"Keep coming!" cried Alexei from above. "Don't stop!" shouted Douglas and Mickey from below.

I swallowed hard, visualized—was it getting hot in here or was it my imagination? Had I scraped my bubble? Did I hear something hissing? Was I losing air?—visualized again and unclicked, kicked, and climbed. I fumbled again—but this time grabbed the cord anyway, clicked, and hung, braced myself against the wall. I couldn't see. The tears were a torrent. The light was awful. If I could just see—

"Only three more and you are here, dingaling! Keep coming!"

Visualized, unclicked, kicked, grabbed, clicked and pulled—okay, I could do this. Two more times. Took a breath, did it all again on the other side. Once more—except I couldn't see a thing. My goggles were wet, my eyes were flowing. I pulled my hand out of the lower glove and pushed my goggles up, tried to wipe my eyes with my wrist. That was a mistake. My goggles fell off my head and bounced away somewhere below me. I felt them hit the floor of the bubble. Even with my eyes closed, the light was an orange blast. I said some of those words that mom hated so much.

"What just happened?" Douglas demanded.

"He dropped his goggles," Alexei said. "Not to worry. Is easy enough, we do it with eyes closed. Come up, dingaling. You are almost here."

It wasgetting hot in here. It wasn't my imagination. The sweat was dripping from my armpits. If I could just see—I squinted up. The rope was a blurry line. Maybe if I could get the goggles. I pulled my knees up, bringing the floor of the bubble almost up within reach. I reached around, fumbling for the goggles. If I could just find the goggles—my hand scrabbled frantically.

"Charles!" That was Douglas. "Don't stop! Keep climbing!"

"I just want to grab my goggles. I can't see!"

"Forget stupid goggles! You are close enough to do without."

And then I swung around just a little bit and my view widened beyond the bubble to the scenery outside.

I was hanging on the inside wall of a Lunar crater. It was big, round, and deep. The pod had come down on the far side and we'd crossed the rubble-strewn floor, always keeping to the shadow until we'd finally climbed its steepening slopes—until we'd finally had to pull ourselves up the wall. From this perspective, it looked bigger and deeper than the Barringer Crater in Arizona, only it was painted in hard colors of black and silver and bright.

And I was hanging halfway up the inner wall.

In a bubble of air. Baking in the sun. Surrounded by vacuum and dark. And nothing below me and nothing above me, hanging only by a single arm. My arm was getting tired. And no one anywhere could save me.

I knew the distances weren't the same here on the moon. I knew the gravity wasn't the same. I knew my weight was lighter. But my eyes told me distance and my brain remembered Earth. And my stomach clenched.

"Please, little Dingillian. Put hand back in glove. Reach up. I will pull you, but you will have to kick away from wall. Hokay?"

For a moment, I forgot everything—even the light. I could hear myself thinking– This is a really stupid way to die.And then the other side of my brain argued– No it isn't. This is really dramatic.

And then I got annoyed, and said, "You're both wrong—"

"What's that, dingaling?"

I didn't answer. Somehow I got my hand back into the glove. I ignored the light and heat and unclicked. I kicked away from the wall, swung myself up, grabbed, and clicked, braced against the wall, unclicked, kicked, swung, grabbed, clicked, braced—"Now!"—and kicked straight down, bounced up—and Alexei grabbed my arm and pulled me over the top, pushing me into the shadow of a looming crag.

I flopped down cross-legged on the broken Lunar rocks and let the tears flood out of me. My eyes were dazzled so badly, I could hardly see.

"Is he all right? Is he all right?"That was Douglas.

"He is fine. He is just shaked and baked a little. Wait—" Alexei hovered over me, checking air and temperature and everything else he could think. He looked all over my bubble for leaks, but the pressure meter said it was fine.

"Can you sit here quietly, Charles? I bring your brother up?"

I managed to nod, and Alexei moved back into the light, and started calling instructions down to Douglas.

I wiped my eyes with my hands, again and again. Suddenly, someone was handing me an alcohol-wipe. The monkey. The package was already open, but my hand was shaking so bad I couldn't take it. So the monkey reached up and began gently washing my face. I had to laugh at the absurdity of it. When the monkey finished, it held up my missing goggles. It wiped them off carefully and dried them, then made a big show of inspecting them with a harsh monkey squint. Finally, it handed them over, and I managed to get them back on and my poncho adjusted.

"Okay, you," I said. "On my head again." The monkey did it in a single bounce.

I stood up and turned around. Alexei was just swinging Douglas over the edge, pushing him into the shadow next to me. He grabbed my arms. "Are you all right?" His tone was beyond concerned. It was scared.

I nodded. But I still felt jittery. He stood there, watching me, waiting for me to say something, but I was caught in another one of those terrible churning wunderstorms,realizing a thousand things at once. Not just the ordinary stuff about how dangerous adventures were—but the extraordinary stuff about how much I loved my brothers and how lost I'd feel without them—and how much it would hurt them if they lost me. I didn't want to hurt them anymore.

And there were a bunch of other thoughts in that wunderstormtoo—about Mickey and Alexei and the monkey. But I couldn't say any of it right now. I couldn't say anything. It would all have to wait.

SUMMIT

After Mickey pulled himself up, he and Alexei checked me over again. Then they checked Douglas. Then Douglas checked them. It was a little crowded in the shadow of the crag, but it was safe enough for the moment.

Alexei insisted that we each drink some water and take a few bites of high-energy pack. He wanted us rested before we started down the other side. There was probably a lot that we all wanted to say. I knew that Douglas was angry—he probably wanted to know why Alexei was putting us all in such danger and why Mickey had agreed to this. Mickey should have known better. I could almost hear the argument—it sounded a lot like Mom and Dad.

But Douglas was smart enough not to raise the subject here. We weren't exactly out of danger, and our first priority had to be getting to safety. And after we got to safety, then the argument wouldn't matter anymore, would it?

For a while we sat in silence. Mostly, I was waiting for my eyes to undazzle. All I could see were big purple splotches everywhere. Nobody said anything at all. We just listened to ourselves breathe. We were tired. This wasn't fun anymore. And even though none of us would say so, we were all scared. It was real now—we could die out here.

Alexei had deliberately chosen this landing site because it would be hard to get to. He had chosen this path across the broken Lunar surface because we would be hard to track. We were out of view of any of the Lunosynchronous satellites, and the ones in polar orbit were equally unlikely to spot us.

We were hidden in the shadows, we were masked by the rocks. And even our thermal signatures would be partially lost in the hash of heat and cold. So there wasn't much likelihood of someone finding us. We weren't going to be picked up unless …

Douglas was thinking the same thing. He looked to Mickey. He took a breath. "Mickey … ?"

"What?"

"I'm thinking that, uh … maybe we should call for help."

"Douglas? Are you all right?"

"This is awfully rough. On Charles. On Bobby." He hung his head. "On me too. I almost didn't make it up the wall either. We can't keep taking chances like this—" He looked up, looked across at him. "How do you feel?"

"I'll go along with whatever you decide." And then he added, "I think the safety of you and your brothers comes first."

Alexei was looking down the other side of the wall. He was looking at his PITA. He wasn't looking at us. He said, "I understand your fears. But you are doing all right. Hardest part is past us now. Is all downhill from here. If you choose to go on."

Douglas ignored him. "How long do you think it would take them to get to us?" he asked Mickey.

Mickey shrugged. "We're close enough to Gagarin Station. They could have a boat out here in three hours. But we'd have to climb down to someplace level."

"Yeah, I already figured that out."

"Did you think about the marshals?" Alexei asked.

"What about them? They were waiting for us at Farpoint. We're beyond that now. Aren't we?"

Alexei shrugged.

"Aren't we—?" Douglas repeated.

"Possibly. Possibly not. Probablynot." He took a breath. "Most certainly, I think not. There are bounty marshals on Luna. It takes only a phone call from Farpoint to North Heinlein or Asimov or Armstrong or … Gagarin."

"Gagarin?"

Alexei shrugged. "Is possible." He took his hand out of his glove to scratch his chin. "Is certainly a logical place to start looking for me. Maybe not you. That's why we drop pods everywhere. So they have no way to know which where to start. Remember, they don't know that I am with you. They might figure it out, because I am not at Geosynchronous anymore. But they have no way to know for sure. So Gagarin could look like red herring. Is inconvenient to get there from north. Only one train line. They would have to take transport. They might not do that on a wild-moose chase. Might check easier targets first. Whole point is to go where it is too inconvenient for marshals. That makes time to keep going, stay ahead of them."

I kept waiting for Douglas to turn to me, to ask me what I was thinking, but he stayed focused on Mickey.

And meanwhile, Alexei nattered on. "But let's play thought experiment game. Say we send signal. Everybody knows we're here. All over news instantly. No secrets on this rock. Rescue boat gets here in three hours. Maybe less, but don't cross fingers before they hatch. Fifteen, maybe thirty minutes to transfer us into boat and get up again. They are in no hurry. They will follow procedures. We take three hours back to Gagarin or wherever else they choose to take us. You figure it out. If Gagarin, that gives marshals six hours from time of distress call to intercept us. Anywhere else, even longer."

"Is six hours good or bad?" I asked.

"If marshals are serious about catching you, they can get to anywhere on Lunar surface within two hours. They have fast transport. Is not impossible. Depends on how many marshals, how desperate they are, how much confusion from big blue marble."

Douglas didn't say anything to that. Neither did Mickey.

"If you want to send distress call, Douglas, I will understand; but I promise, if marshals want you bad enough, then there will be marshals waiting for you. But if you send distress call, I will not wait with you. I will go on without you. We have broken many laws getting here. But they do not know for sure I am here, and I already have many alibis." He sighed. "This is part of why I put you into money-surfing web. So if something bad happens and you get caught, all the money used to purchase six pods will look like your own. My hands are washed. Lawyers will argue that purchase of all six pods and evasive trajectories was intent to escape legal warrants waiting at Farpoint. They will tie you up in paper." He made a face. "So, no, I do not advise calling for help. It could get very ugly for you."

That almost sounded like blackmail. Like fat SenorDoctor Hidalgo, who'd almost threatened us too. Even behind his goggles, even bundled in his poncho, I could see that Douglas didn't like what Alexei was saying.

He turned back to Mickey. "Say we go back down to the crater floor. How long would that take? Fifteen minutes? Thirty? We could all get into the inflatable and wait for them, couldn't we?"

"Is better to go forward," said Alexei. "Better landing site on this side." No one paid him any attention.

"Is that what you want to do?" Mickey asked Douglas.

"What I want … and what I have to do are two different things. I have to think about Bobby and Charles first."

"Um-?" I said.

Douglas shook his head, dismissing me. "No, Chigger. I have to make this decision for all of us."

"Well, that didn't take long."

He looked up sharply. "What didn't?"

"For you to break your promise."

"What promise? Oh—"

"Yeah. Thatpromise." To Mickey, I said, "That he wouldn't make any more decisions for all of us without talking to me."

"Chigger." Douglas put on his patient grown-up voice. It was scary—because for a moment, he wasn't Douglas anymore. He was someone else."I'm really scared here. You nearly got killed. And I nearly didn't make it up either. We're not trained for this. I'm sorry. This was a mistake. I'm sorry for getting you into this. We should stop here—"

"You sound just like Dad," I said angrily. That was who he'd become."Remember when he told us he was leaving. How he wouldn't stop apologizing: 'What I want and what I have to do. We made a mistake. I'm sorry. I have to call it quits before it gets worse. Blah blah blah.' And remember how we all felt? We were so angry, because we wanted him to keep trying, just a little bit more—"

"This isn't the same."

"Yes, it is. It's quitting. Dad taught us how to be quitters. Real good."

"It's surviving."

"Yeah, Dad said that too."

"You have a better idea?"

"Yeah, I do. Let's keep going. We can quit anytime. We have to go down the mountain anyway. Let's go down and see how we feel when we get to the bottom."

Douglas looked to Mickey. Mickey shrugged. "He's right. We have to go down, no matter what. And we have enough air. We don't have to decide here. You want to think about it?"

Douglas looked at me. Even though his eyes were hidden by his dark goggles, I could see he was annoyed. He didn't like being backed into a corner. Not by me, not by Alexei, not by Mickey. But he was always logical, and that was his real strength. So finally, he nodded, and said softly, "All right, we'll wait."

Mickey put his hand on Douglas's bubble, as if to touch his shoulder. "Can you make it down? Or do you want me to take Bobby?"

Even though I couldn't see his expression, even though his body language was hidden by the poncho, I could see he was tired. I could hear it in his voice. "No, I'll take him. But when we get down, we need to rest—maybe even a nap?"

Mickey and Alexei exchanged a glance and nodded to each other.

"Turn heaters back on, please. Everyone take a little fresh air," Alexei said. "And we will start down the other side."

"Wait a minute—" I said. I could finally see clearly again. I stepped out into the sunlight, as close to the edge as I dared. I looked back down into the crater we'd just climbed out of. It was deeper than Barringer—and wider. But I wasn't afraid of it anymore. It was just scenery. It looked like a Bonestell.

I stepped back away from the edge, back into the shadow. "All right, I'm ready."

Alexei reached over and slapped my hands with his. "Good job, Charles Dingillian. We go now. Da?"

" Da."

IN CONTROL

The funny thing, Douglas was right. This was too dangerous for us. This was a mistake. It had been a mistake from the beginning. It was a whole cascade of mistakes—Mom's, Dad's, Mickey's, and all the lawyers and judges who'd stumbled into this with us.

But most of all, it was ourmistake. And everything we were doing now was only making it worse. We were getting farther and farther away from help. Every step we took was only making it harder for someone to find us and rescue us.

And then there was that business with Alexei. The more I thought about what he'd said, the more it pissed me off. He'd threatened to abandon us. He'd gotten us into this and he wasn't going to help us get out—not unless we did it his way. And I didn't like that. And probably neither did Mickey and Douglas. But none of us were talking about it, so maybe that was even more evidence how serious this was.

Or maybe Alexei was right. He was a smuggler and a spy and God knew what else. He knew this stuff. He knew the dangers. And, supposedly, he knew how to avoid them. Maybe it was just an overdose of wunderstormand we were getting panicky.

And then we started down, and there wasn't a lot of time to worry.

The way down didn't look as easy as the way up. Alexei had brought us to a place where the rim walls of two overlapping craters intersected. Most of the slope below us was hidden by long sideways shadows. Even so, we could see that the way down to the floor of the second crater was a broken avalanche of ugly rock. It was a rubble-strewn slope, gashed by several nasty chasms.

I didn't see how we were going to negotiate it—maybe by jumping from boulder to boulder? But it turned out to be a lot easier than that.

Alexei retrieved the grapple-dart from where it had secured itself and wound up the cord carefully; then he reloaded the dart gun and sighted down into the rubble and beyond, marking the range to the distant silver plain. He muttered to himself in Russian and I got the feeling he was doing some complex calculations in his head.

Finally, he made a decision. He sighted down into the rubble, tracking the laser dot as far as he could toward some distant landmark. Then he aimed the pistol forty-five degrees upward, and fired. The grapple-dart flew up and away, trailing the cord after it in great un-curling loops. As before, it glittered in the sunlight, yellow against the black sky above.

The dart arced over and down into the gloom below, and as the line fell back into shadow with it, it began blinking out along its length. As before, we had to wait until the butt of the dart-pistol confirmed that the grapple-dart had secured itself.

Now Alexei looped the other end around a convenient boulder and began pulling it as tightly as he could. Periodically, he'd turn and look down into the gloomy crater below with his goggles set for light-enhancement. Then he'd grunt and resume tightening the cord. Mickey helped him. When they were done, we had a Lunar zip line.

"All right, Mikhail,do you want to go first? Or should I?"

"I think you'd better."

Alexei nodded agreement. "I think so too. All right, Dingillians—this part will be easy." From his equipment pack, he produced four little wheels with handles, he handed one to each of us. "Use your grabbers. Click right grabber here, reach up, put wheel on line, click left grabber here. Once you are clicked, you cannot fall off. So enjoy ride. Pick up feet, hold knees as high as you can, ride line all the way down to bottom. Is long way, da!So do not go too fast. Twist handles this way for braking, wheel will slow. Twist other way to release brake. Is good idea to control speed all the way down, especially for beginners. When you get near end, you will see ground getting closer. That is time to go very slow. Even slower than that. Slower than very slow. Do not scrape bubble suit. You will do fine. I promise. Is great fun and best way to go anywhere on moon. Any questions?"

I raised a hand.

"Yes, Charles?"

"Did you do this on purpose?"

"Do what?"

"Choose the bounce-down sight so far from where we have to go? I mean, couldn't you have brought us down a little closer?"

"I could have, yes. But I wanted the bad guys to look somewhere else. So we hike a little bit and they go to look in six places much farther away. By the time they don't find us, we will be past wherever else they think to look. If I did not think you could handle this, Charles, I would not have used this plan." He added thoughtfully, "I make this plan a long time ago, I am very proud of myself that it works so well. You should be proud too—that you are strong enough to keep up. We are almost on schedule. Wait for my signal. I will call you down as soon as it is safe. Hokay, any other questions? No? I see you all on the bottom." He swung his wheel over the line, clicked onto the handles, kicked off with his feet, and sailed away over the edge.

" Waaaaaaaa-haaaaa! Hoooo-hooooooooo-hooooooooo eeeeeeeyyyy!" He wailed all the way down—or at least as far down as he had the air to shriek. He floated down across the Lunar landscape like something out of a bizarre dream—a silver sprite in a shimmery ball.

And then there was silence. It stretched out for the longest time.

The three of us looked at each other.

"Why doesn't he say something?" I asked.

"Maybe he's concentrating on his landing," Douglas said.

"What if he fell off?"

"He can't fall off."

"What if the bottom of the line is in a jagged rock field and he got punctured before he could warn us? What if it's not safe to go down after him?"

"Charles, stop scaring yourself. Nobody else is going down until Alexei tells us it's safe."

"But if something happened to him—?"

"Nothing happened to him," said Douglas.

We both looked to Mickey.

Mickey was studying the PITA on his wrist. "His signal is clear. His readouts are green. He's alive. He's just not talking. At least, not to us. He might be calling ahead to someone else. Not to worry."

We waited in silence. I looked at the Earth for a while. It hadn't changed its position in the sky. And the terminator line didn't look all that different from before. Most of Africa was still waking up. To another horrible day.We'd only been traveling two hours. We still had a long way to go.

And then, the worst thing of all happened.

Stinky woke up.

And announced, "I gotta go to the bathroom. Where are we?"

Mickey and Douglas and I all groaned at the same time.

"Can you hold it?" said Douglas.

"No," said Stinky. "I gotta go right now!"

"Uh-oh—" I said. I knew that tone of voice.

And in that same instant, I had a chilling insight about Stinky—and why he was the way he was. I was only angry at Mom and Dad. But Stinky was angry at everyone. It was about control.

Everybody in the family had authority over him. Everybody older had power. He had none. There was only one thing he could say to bring everything else to a stop. There was only one thing he could do to seize control.

And every time he did, everything else came to an immediate stop. At that moment, his single declaration became the ultimate power in the family. Whenever things were totally out of control—there was Stinky demanding, "I gotta go now." If nothing else, he could always be depended on to focus the dilemma on himself.

Without even thinking about it, I stepped over to Douglas. "Stinky! Can you hear me?"

"Yes. Where are you, Chigger?"