“Mothballed?” Risa asked.
“Warships held in reserve,” Pigeon said. “They’re equipped for service but not in use. Many eventually get sold as scrap.”
“Nice job, professor,” Cleon said. “The Striker can be found on one of the waterways adjacent to the San Francisco Bay, not too far from here. I brought a map for each of the two clubs involved.”
Pigeon collected the map for the Subs, and Chris took the map for the Jets.
“This assignment may take some finesse,” Todd said. “The Hermit’s a wily old dude. He won’t give up the Gate easily. He has been known to bargain when cornered. He’ll probably try to flee. If he gets away, it will be a major annoyance to find him again. In that case, both clubs will lose their stamps.”
“What does the Gate look like?” Lindy wondered.
“We’re unsure,” Cleon said. “From sketchy descriptions, we assume it will be a model of a gate. Should be small enough to carry.”
“Tell the Hermit you want the Gate to Uweya,” Todd advised. “He’ll know what you’re after.”
“We know he has it with him?” Lindy asked.
“The Hermit moves around a lot,” Cleon said. “But he keeps his treasures close. Either he’ll have it on him or he’ll know where to find it.”
Todd held up a small drawstring bag. “Each club will get some of this to help you. It’s called Finder’s Dust. Just sprinkle it in the air, and the particles will be drawn to any magical items in the vicinity.”
“The effect has limits,” Cleon clarified. “It’ll find objects in a small room, but it won’t travel down the street and around the corner. Use a little at a time, focusing on suspicious areas.”
“The club that brings the Gate into Arcadeland wins the competition,” Todd said. “It doesn’t matter who does what along the way. We don’t care who works the hardest, who finds the Gate, or who snatches it. All we care about is who brings it to us. The losers will surrender their stamps to the winners.”
“These rules give the Jets an unfair advantage,” Pigeon said. “There’s no river near Arcadeland.”
“We’ve explained the task,” Cleon said. “The rest is up to you. Meet here at sundown. You’ll depart once it’s dark.”
“Wait,” Pigeon complained. “If we leave from here, the Jets will easily beat us to the ship. That will give them an even bigger advantage.”
Todd shrugged. “Mr. White made the rules. You Subs are quick in the water. If I were you, I’d start looking for the nearest waterways that link to your destination. You guys have the rest of the day to prepare.”
“I recommend searching the lockers in here,” Cleon said. “You’re welcome to take any gear you find. Just bring it back.”
He and Cleon left the room.
“I wanted to take on the Jets,” Roman complained loudly.
“The target is a ship out on the water,” Summer said. “Jets and Subs probably make the most sense.”
“I guess we’ll get our chance,” Roman said.
“Unless the Racers beat you first,” Trevor said.
“We should plan,” Chris said, looking at the map.
The different clubs started moving away from one another. Nate conferred with the other Jets, but the planning didn’t impress him. Basically, they would fly to the place on the map and see what happened, adapting as necessary.
Nate glided over to where the Subs were getting back into the water. “Hey, Pidge.”
Drew, another of the Subs, paused beside Pigeon, his eyes on Nate. Pigeon pointed to the pool. “Go ahead. Let me talk to Nate for a second.”
Drew obeyed reluctantly. Nate stood near Pigeon, and they spoke with their voices lowered.
“Do you want me to throw it?” Pigeon murmured. “I could sabotage us.”
“No,” Nate said, somewhat surprised by the offer. “I was thinking we should both just do our best to win. I’m not sure it matters which of us stays in.”
“It could matter a lot,” Pigeon replied quietly. “I’m good at planning, but you’re more clutch in emergencies. Plus, there are two of us on the Jets. Wouldn’t it make more sense to keep you and Lindy involved?”
“Might make more sense to get her uninvolved,” Nate said. “We still don’t know if Jonas recognized her, or what he’s planning if he did.”
“I’m not sure she’s any safer either way,” Pigeon said. “If Jonas knows her secret, whether or not she’s in one of his clubs probably won’t matter. Look, I won’t try hard to blow it for the Subs, but I won’t go out of my way to win, either. Although it would be kind of fun to fly.”
“We probably shouldn’t talk for too long,” Nate said.
“Right. We might not get a chance to chat more before sunset. Good luck.”
“You too. Be careful. We don’t know much about what we’re up against.” Nate flew away to rejoin the Jets, and Pigeon dove into the water.
*****
As he soared away from the training center, Nate debated whether to switch on his night vision. Below him, the world had been simplified into a grid of lights. The Jets flew well above the ground, hopefully high enough to avoid attention from people down below. Their black clothing helped them blend with the night sky. They all wore protective helmets, elbow pads, and knee pads.
Nate had brought the tranquilizer pistol that Pigeon had passed along from the Battiatos. Lindy had hers as well. Although the helmets were equipped for night vision, the moon was probably bright enough to help them get the job done. Besides, Lindy flew beside Nate, and he knew that she could see in the dark much better than any night vision device.
As planned, they flew to the freeway, then followed the opposing streams of headlights and taillights toward the first junction. Freeways would lead them most of the way to the desired inlet. Chris held the map.
Chris kept increasing their speed until they were moving faster than the cars below. The air remained warm after an uncomfortably hot day. It washed over Nate like a gale as he sped forward. Even at such a high speed, flying caused him no physical exhaustion.
After a few freeway junctions, they left the busy roads behind and flew toward a dark expanse of water. Silver moonlight reflected gently off the surface in places. Thanks to the moon, the Striker was not difficult to see, floating alone on the water as it had for years.