“What happened?” I asked. “Were their fins out of alignment?”

  Noah shook his head. “No way. I checked and rechecked those,” he said. “That’s what took me so long to assemble them. Besides, I can see one of them going out of alignment, but two at once?”

  I watched the parachutes slowly drift down toward the trees. “If we lose them, we’ll never know for sure.”

  “On it,” Noah announced as he ran toward the tree line.

  I took off toward the opposite side. I craned my neck to keep an eye on the plummeting parachute and the neon green (thanks, Dad!) rocket section.

  As I entered the trees, I had to keep glancing down so I wouldn’t trip over a log or run into a tree. Unfortunately, after looking away for the fifth time, I lost sight of the rocket. I jogged through the forest, heading for where I saw it last.

  I ran onto a trail and looked around at the ground. The forest canopy had some openings, so there was a good chance the rocket made it to the forest floor without being snagged on a branch. But I didn’t spot it anywhere.

  Giving up on the ground, I scanned the branches above. It didn’t take long for me to spot the neon green standing out from the leaves. Of course that color was easy to spot, because it was right next to a large patch of bright blue. I moved closer and saw a boy sitting high up in a tree. He held the rocket in his outstretched hand.

  “Looking for this?” asked the boy. He sat on a thick branch and wore a bright blue shirt. He was from Liniford.

  I was almost speechless with surprise. “Uh… uh… yes, thanks,” I finally replied.

  “Okay, here it comes,” said the boy. He let it fall from his hand and the parachute inflated once more. I ran under the rocket as it floated toward the ground and landed in my outstretched hand.

  “Thanks,” I said. “What are you doing up there?”

  “Installing my invention,” the boy replied. He pointed to the base of his tree. “Look down there.”

  I stepped closer and saw a small, rustic birdhouse strapped to the side of the tree. But instead of having the usual hole for birds to enter, there were two USB ports under a placard that read TREE OF CHARGE. I visually traced the wires leading up from the top of the house and saw them spread out to springs and cables. They stretched to a few surrounding trees and were painted brown so you really had to concentrate to spot them.

  “When the wind moves the trees, it charges my battery,” the boy explained. “And it stores enough power to charge a phone or a tablet.”

  “Very cool idea,” I said.

  “Thanks,” the boy replied.

  I held up the rocket. “And thanks for this. I’m Tom, by the way.”

  “I’m Jason,” he said. “And it wasn’t a problem. It landed in a branch really close to me.”

  I gave him a wave and headed back the way I had come. I couldn’t wait to tell Noah about Jason’s invention. It was an ingenious idea.

  It turned my thoughts back to our failed test as I walked. What could have made it go so wrong? Why did they fly so far off course?

  I absently ran a finger over one of the rocket fins, and my fingertip caught on something. I stopped and examined the fin closely. There was a four-centimeter slice down one of the fins. If it didn’t look so clean, I would have chalked it up to being damaged when it fell through the treetops. No, this cut was deliberate.

  Someone had sabotaged our rocket.

  8 The Incapacitation Complication

  “YEAH,” NOAH SAID. “SAME THING. Right here!” He pointed to the rocket he had recovered. It had the same tiny cut down one of the tailfins.

  “No wonder they went haywire,” I said. “As soon as the wind caught that cut, it created enough drag to pull it to one side.”

  “And the drag threw it off course,” Noah finished. “Do you think all of our rockets have cuts like these?”

  I shrugged. “What are the chances that we chose the only two out of all twelve that were damaged?”

  “Let’s get back and check,” Noah replied.

  We gathered up the rocket pieces and launch equipment before heading back to the cabin. We didn’t speak the entire way, keeping a fast pace that would’ve made it difficult to talk anyway. If Noah felt the same way I did, then we were both too anxious about the other rockets to slow down.

  I was racking my brain trying to figure out when someone could have sabotaged our rockets. Before we came to camp, the bin had been with us the entire time. And when it wasn’t with us, it was locked inside the panel truck. Of course, it was out of our sight when it was delivered to our cabin by the camp counselors. I couldn’t see why they would want to vandalize our project. And how would they have the time? If all twelve rockets were damaged in the same way, then that would have taken meticulous work.

  That left Terry and Toby, our cabinmates. Sure, they were both plugged into their VR headsets when we arrived, but what if that was just an act? After all, the vandalism of the other projects happened while we were still at school. That ruled out both the students from the other schools and the camp counselors. If Terry and Toby were the vandals, they could have watched us approach and put on the headsets to throw us off. But still, it didn’t seem like enough time to damage all twelve rockets, even for them. After all, Noah and I didn’t spend that much time in Andrew’s cabin.

  I shook my head. I would have loved, loved, loved to make Andrew Foger the prime suspect. It totally sounds like something he would do. But unfortunately, he had the perfect alibi—me!

  We made it to the cabin and raced inside. There was no sign of Toby, but Terry still sat in his bed, wearing his headset. Noah and I walked past him and knelt on either side of the container, carefully examining the rest of our rockets. Sure enough, every single one of them had a tiny slit down one of the fins.

  “I don’t believe it,” Noah said. “What are we going to do now? There’s no way these will fly straight.”

  “We repair them,” I replied. “That’s what we do.”

  “How?” asked Noah. “We can’t replace the fins and have time for them to dry.”

  “We could create identical slits on all the fins,” I suggested. “Balance them out.”

  Noah shook his head. “I don’t think we could match them well enough.”

  We were in a bind. To repair the rockets correctly, we would have to replace all the fins. But that would take almost as long as building the rockets from scratch. There had to be a simple solution to made these rockets fly straight.

  I snapped my fingers. Sometimes the simplest solutions were the best. “What about tape?”

  “Tape?” asked Noah. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Hear me out,” I said. “We cut three identical pieces of tape, so the weight won’t be off. We cover the slit with one piece and add tape to the other fins to balance everything out.”

  Noah opened his mouth to protest but then stopped. “That might work,” he finally said.

  “Long enough for us to seed one big cloud,” I added.

  “I like it,” Noah said. Then his smile disappeared. “Now, the big question is, who did this?”

  We both turned and stared at Terry. Unless he was really good at faking it, he didn’t even know we were in the cabin.

  Noah and I walked over to Terry’s bed. I tapped him on the shoulder. Terry pressed a button on his controller and then raised his VR goggles.

  “Hey, guys,” he said. “What’s up?”

  I pointed to our open bin. “Did you see anyone in here earlier, messing with our stuff?”

  Terry shook his head. “No, but I’ve been checking out Noah’s program since I got here.” He offered a fist to Noah. “Great job, man. But you should see some of the mods in there now.”

  Noah gave him a fist bump. “Yeah, I haven’t had time to yet.” He jutted a thumb over his shoulder. “So it’s just been you and Toby in here the entire time?”

  Terry nodded. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure.” He leaned over to look past us. “Something happen to your project?”

  “I think so,” I replied. “Is yours okay?”

  Terry removed his headset and hopped off the bed. “It better be.” He picked up what looked like a plastic suitcase and set it on his bed. “Yeah, I heard that Samantha Watson was messing with people’s inventions back at school,” Terry said. “But no girls allowed in boys’ cabins, right?”

  I felt a rock form in my stomach. “No, that’s not true,” I told him. “That’s just a rumor.”

  “Oh, okay,” said Terry. He popped open the case to reveal what looked like a remote-control boat cradled in solid foam.

  Terry and Toby had created a cool hydrofoil to test on the lake. In theory, it would race smoothly along the surface of the water no matter how choppy it got.

  Terry pulled the boat out of the foam and turned it over in his hands. “This looks okay to me,” he said. Then he examined the bottom. “Hey, the seam’s coming apart here.”

  Noah and I leaned in to get a better look. Sure enough, the seam at the bottom of the boat was coming apart. There was a small mar near the center as if someone had pried it open with a knife or small screwdriver.

  “Oh man,” Terry said shaking his head. “We have to fix this. Otherwise this thing will fill with water and end up at the bottom of the lake.” He grabbed his VR headset and pulled out his phone. “I have to get Toby back here.” He stood and moved his phone around the cabin. “Aw, man. Can’t get a signal.”

  “How were you accessing the virtual academy?” I asked.

  “Through the Internet,” Terry replied. “The Wi-Fi is great out here. The cell service, not so much.”

  “Where is Toby?” I asked.

  “He went to lunch,” Terry replied. “Are you guys going? Can you tell him what happened?”

  “Sure,” said Noah.

  “So, you don’t think Samantha did this?” Terry asked. He pointed to the marred part of the boat. “It’s obvious someone did something.”

  I shook my head. “I know it wasn’t her. The rumor got started because I was joking about her messing with people’s projects.”

  “Really?” Terry squinted up at me. “I thought you two were friends.”

  I imagined Sam’s special death glare when she found out about the rumor. A shiver ran down my back. I hope we are still friends, I thought.

  Noah and I left the cabin and hiked down the main road toward the chow hall. It was great being tucked away and having the most privacy, but our group of cabins were literally the farthest from the front of the camp. That meant that if you wanted to get to a meal on time, you had to think ahead.

  We passed Andrew Foger’s survival cabin. The two main doors were closed over the inner door. Looked like we didn’t have to deal with Andrew again, for the time being.

  We passed the odd student here and there but most everyone must have been at lunch. However, as we came around the last bend and the chow hall came into view, two familiar figures marched up the road toward us.

  “Swift,” Sam said as they moved closer. She wore the beginnings of the glare.

  I immediately lost my appetite.

  I raised my hands. “I’m sorry. I tried to stop it,” I explained.

  “He did.” Noah pointed at me. “He really did.”

  Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Tried to stop what, exactly?”

  “The rumor,” I replied.

  Sam gasped. “What? You knew about this and didn’t tell me?”

  “Well… yeah… I guess,” I shrugged. “Look, I was trying to stop it before you heard about it.”

  Sam’s brow furrowed as she shook her head. “Why wouldn’t you just tell me?”

  I sighed. “Because… because it was all my fault.” I glanced at Noah and Amy. “I’m the one who was joking about you being the vandal.”

  Sam ran a hand through her short brown hair and just stared at me. It wasn’t the death glare; it was much worse. She stared at me with a look of utter disappointment.

  Finally, she threw up her hands. “Well, guess what, Swift? From what we’ve heard, almost everyone’s projects have been vandalized.”

  Amy nodded. “It’s true.”

  “How?” I asked.

  Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. But now people think I messed with everything before we left the school.”

  Amy shook her head. “And she didn’t.”

  “Of course she didn’t,” I said.

  Sam’s eyes widened. “Well, I know I didn’t. But does anyone believe me?”

  Noah cringed. “I’m guessing no?”

  “That’s right,” Sam said. “And do you know why they don’t believe me?”

  I opened my mouth to take a guess but Amy beat me to it. “Because our project wasn’t vandalized,” she answered.

  “And because of that, I just spent the last half hour being grilled by Mr. Edge,” Sam added.

  Noah and I glanced at each other.

  “Oh man,” Noah said. “Whoever did it must’ve heard about the rumor.”

  Sam nodded. “And purposely skipped us to make me look guilty.”

  “Did Mr. Edge believe you?” asked Noah.

  “I think so,” she replied. “At least he said he did.”

  “I’m so sorry, Sam,” I said. “This is all my fault.”

  Sam shook her head and looked at me in disbelief. “You just don’t get it, do you?”

  My answering stare must have confirmed this, because she rolled her eyes and stormed down the main road, toward the girls’ cabins. Amy gave a quick shrug and followed her.

  9 The Observation Objective

  NOAH AND I WENT TO the mess hall and each grabbed a tray of lunch. I’d never been to summer camp before, so I didn’t know what to expect when it came to the quality of the food. Unfortunately, I couldn’t really say if the food was good or not because I don’t think anything would’ve tasted good at that point. It was as if I couldn’t taste anything with Sam being upset with me.

  And I wasn’t the only one who was upset. The long table where the Swift Academy students sat seemed somewhat subdued. The two other long tables on either side were occupied by kids from Bradley and Liniford, and they chatted excitedly with each other as they ate.

  “Don’t worry,” Mr. Edge told my fellow classmates. “I’ve talked to Mr. Alexander and he’s helping with our investigation. We’ll not only figure out who did this, but you’ll also each have time to make repairs to your projects.”

  The Swift students grumbled in response.

  “We already know who did it,” said one of the grumblers. I didn’t see who it was.

  Mr. Edge raised his hands. “The other teachers and I take this sort of thing very seriously,” he said. “But we can’t make snap decisions based on rumors.”

  The kids weren’t buying it. They shook their heads and glared even more than before. They seemed to be one step away from getting torches and pitchforks. Someone had to do something. And, unfortunately, I felt myself getting to my feet. I guess that someone was me.

  “Uh… can I have your attention, please?” I asked, addressing the group.

  My fellow students quieted and gazed in my direction. Kids from the other schools also took interest.

  I nervously rubbed the back of my neck. “I just wanted to debunk this rumor about Sam vandalizing everyone’s projects.” Now that I had all the Swift students’ undivided attention, my stomach churned and my palms began to sweat. I rubbed them against my jeans as I continued. “I know Sam is my friend and all, but I can say for a fact that the rumor isn’t true.”

  “How do you know?” asked Kevin Ryan.

  I cringed. “Because I accidentally started the rumor when I was just joking around.”

  The students began talking among themselves. I couldn’t make out what everyone was saying, but it seemed as if some were buying my story, while others were not.

  Kevin raised his hand. “Was your project sabotaged?” he asked.

  I was about to say, Yes, yes it was.

  But suddenly I found the seed of a plan to help clear Sam’s name. It wasn’t all there yet, but for it to work, I had to be evasive with my answer.

  “We’re all good,” I said. It wasn’t quite a lie. I just hoped Noah kept a good poker face, because my plan had just begun to sprout its first leaf.

  Kevin nodded. “Right, because Sam’s your friend. She wouldn’t mess up your project.”

  Many of the students rumbled in agreement.

  “That’s not true,” I said. “I mean… she wouldn’t mess up anyone’s project.”

  And… I lost their attention. My fellow students began several breakout discussions. Some seemed to believe me. Others speculated whether Sam would or would not vandalize a friend’s project to make herself look innocent.

  Mr. Edge stood and tried to defuse the situation. “Or maybe nobody’s to blame,” he suggested. “What I’ve seen so far could’ve just as easily been cases of something being damaged during transport.” He shrugged. “Next year we’ll make sure everything is packed more securely.”

  Noah and I exchanged a look. We knew that the damage to our rockets was intentional. A cut on a fin or two, maybe. But for all of them to have deliberate damage was way more than coincidental. Then there was Terry and Toby’s boat. It couldn’t have been packed more safely if they had tried.

  That reminded me. I slid out of the table and quickly located Toby Nguyen. “Terry said that there was some damage to your boat,” I told him.

  “Aw, man,” Toby said as he rose from the table. He dumped his tray and disappeared out the main door. I went back to my seat beside Noah.

  “What was all that ‘we’re good’ stuff you told Kevin?” he asked. “You know someone messed with our rockets.”

  “Yeah, but what if the vandal thought that we hadn’t noticed anything?” I asked. “And nobody knows we had a test launch today.”

  “So?” Noah shook his head. “Why do you care if anyone else knows?”

  I grinned and lowered my voice. “I’m thinking we can set a trap for whoever did this.”

 

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