Read Online Dinosaur Boy Saves Mars by Cory Putman Oakes - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cory Putman Oakes
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pulled my long-sleeved T-shirt down to hide it.
Sylvie held up a finger.
âNumber one, I highly doubt a secret laboratory is hidden somewhere downtown. Number two,â she continued, throwing up another finger, âI was born here. I donât need a tour.â
My grandfather held up two fingers of his own.
âNumber one, if youâre right about the lab not being downtown, then weâre going to need the long-range scanner to find it. Which is currently broken. And, number two, I canât fix it with all of these people hanging around the apartment. So be a good little celebrity, go on your tour, and leave me in peace.â
Sylvie rolled her eyes and then walked dramatically toward the front door.
âIâll be waiting in the hallway,â she announced loudly for the benefit of the crowd on the other side of the living room. âIâm so excited about the tour!â
The door slammed behind her.
A few seconds later, Venetio bolted out after her, his wrist monitor beeping like mad.
Mars Central
Coach Kepler and most of the other Martians begged off, so the tour ended up consisting of me, Elliot, Sylvie, Venetio, Ms. Helen, Chancellor Fontana, and a few Martian police officers in black outfits and face shields.
âI gave tours for a living before I got the chancellor job,â Chancellor Fontana chirped excitedly, as we rode the elevator down to street level. âI can tell you everything youâd like to know about our charming planet!â
âHow long have you been a chancellor?â I asked her. I suspected it couldnât be long, since she had taken over Mr. Juarezâs job.
It wasnât.
âTwo weeks,â she said cheerfully.
I peeked down at the scanner, trying to make it look like I was just checking a really oversized watch. The screen had the outline of a map on it, kind of like GPS. My grandfather had explained that if the scanner picked up Mr. Juarezâs DNA signature, it would appear on the map as a red dot. There should also be a beeping sound.
Nothing so far.
I covered up the scanner again, just as the elevator dinged and we all followed Chancellor Fontana through the lobby and out onto the streets of Mars.
⢠⢠â¢
When Sylvie had first told me that Martians live beneath the surface, I had pictured a world where herds of tiny Martians wandered around a dark network of caves and tunnels. There was dirt. Lots of dirt. Everyone was sort of grubby and mole-like, blinking at each other in the dim, faintly red light.
The actual Martian world was pretty much the opposite of that.
First of all, it was light. Really light. Everything around us was made out of metal or glass, just like Sylvieâs apartment building. And it was all extremely clean, like someone had just come along and given everything in sight a good scrubbing. So my first impression of Mars was that it was quite shiny.
It was easy to forget that we were underground. The caverns that made up Mars Central (which most people just seemed to call âCentralâ) were big enough that the buildings around us were as tall as any skyscrapers youâd see in an Earth city. It was only when you looked straight up that you could tell there was actually a metal roof up there with a simulated sky projected onto it.
âCentral is roughly the size of New York City on Earth,â said Chancellor Fontana, facing us and walking backward as she talked with the effortlessness of a trained tour guide. âWe have a similar population density and many of the same challenges that come with so many people living in such close proximity.â
Her words made my heart sink. It had been hard enough to picture finding Sylvieâs dad in a maze of dark, underground caves. But how were we possibly going to find him in a city the size of New York?
I snuck another peek at the scanner: no red dot yet.
Chancellor Fontana went on to discuss the light. It was artificially created
Sylvie held up a finger.
âNumber one, I highly doubt a secret laboratory is hidden somewhere downtown. Number two,â she continued, throwing up another finger, âI was born here. I donât need a tour.â
My grandfather held up two fingers of his own.
âNumber one, if youâre right about the lab not being downtown, then weâre going to need the long-range scanner to find it. Which is currently broken. And, number two, I canât fix it with all of these people hanging around the apartment. So be a good little celebrity, go on your tour, and leave me in peace.â
Sylvie rolled her eyes and then walked dramatically toward the front door.
âIâll be waiting in the hallway,â she announced loudly for the benefit of the crowd on the other side of the living room. âIâm so excited about the tour!â
The door slammed behind her.
A few seconds later, Venetio bolted out after her, his wrist monitor beeping like mad.
Mars Central
Coach Kepler and most of the other Martians begged off, so the tour ended up consisting of me, Elliot, Sylvie, Venetio, Ms. Helen, Chancellor Fontana, and a few Martian police officers in black outfits and face shields.
âI gave tours for a living before I got the chancellor job,â Chancellor Fontana chirped excitedly, as we rode the elevator down to street level. âI can tell you everything youâd like to know about our charming planet!â
âHow long have you been a chancellor?â I asked her. I suspected it couldnât be long, since she had taken over Mr. Juarezâs job.
It wasnât.
âTwo weeks,â she said cheerfully.
I peeked down at the scanner, trying to make it look like I was just checking a really oversized watch. The screen had the outline of a map on it, kind of like GPS. My grandfather had explained that if the scanner picked up Mr. Juarezâs DNA signature, it would appear on the map as a red dot. There should also be a beeping sound.
Nothing so far.
I covered up the scanner again, just as the elevator dinged and we all followed Chancellor Fontana through the lobby and out onto the streets of Mars.
⢠⢠â¢
When Sylvie had first told me that Martians live beneath the surface, I had pictured a world where herds of tiny Martians wandered around a dark network of caves and tunnels. There was dirt. Lots of dirt. Everyone was sort of grubby and mole-like, blinking at each other in the dim, faintly red light.
The actual Martian world was pretty much the opposite of that.
First of all, it was light. Really light. Everything around us was made out of metal or glass, just like Sylvieâs apartment building. And it was all extremely clean, like someone had just come along and given everything in sight a good scrubbing. So my first impression of Mars was that it was quite shiny.
It was easy to forget that we were underground. The caverns that made up Mars Central (which most people just seemed to call âCentralâ) were big enough that the buildings around us were as tall as any skyscrapers youâd see in an Earth city. It was only when you looked straight up that you could tell there was actually a metal roof up there with a simulated sky projected onto it.
âCentral is roughly the size of New York City on Earth,â said Chancellor Fontana, facing us and walking backward as she talked with the effortlessness of a trained tour guide. âWe have a similar population density and many of the same challenges that come with so many people living in such close proximity.â
Her words made my heart sink. It had been hard enough to picture finding Sylvieâs dad in a maze of dark, underground caves. But how were we possibly going to find him in a city the size of New York?
I snuck another peek at the scanner: no red dot yet.
Chancellor Fontana went on to discuss the light. It was artificially created
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