Read Online The Icarus Project by Laura Quimby - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Laura Quimby
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Dad, who had theorized that the room was probably just a cozy library where Randal could put his woolly socked feet up and wiggle his toes in front of a toasty fire, I suspected something else entirely. I was willing to bet that Randal had bigger secrets. Billionaire secrets.
Privacy
was another word for hiding place. Katsu had discovered something, and I needed to know what.
While Kyle went to borrow an extra set of keys from the mechanic he had been working with that morning, I waited outside Randal’s private room, making sure Katsu didn’t return. Finally, red-faced and panting, Kyle came racing around the corner, skidding down the hall in his nonstealthy boots.
“Slow down,” I said, casually glancing around, like I wasn’t looking. I was the lookout, which meant I stood outside the room and acted nonchalant.
“I thought you said to hurry,” he countered, a line of sweat trailing down his temple.
“I did. But it’s the first law of spying—act like you belong, and no one will question that you shouldn’t be doing what you’re doing. Running just makes you look suspicious, like you don’t want to get caught.”
“Right … spymaster.” He dangled the keys, a wry smile on his face.
“How did you get the guy to give them to you?” I asked.
“I told him that I needed to get into the supply cabinet for extra toilet paper. I don’t think he believed me, but no guy questions another guy’s need for toilet paper.”
Kyle tried three or four keys before finding the right one. He glanced up and down the hall one last time and then carefully unlocked the door. Together we slipped inside. The smell of rubber cement filled the room. I felt for the light switch and turned it on. Immediately, my heart sank. The room was nothing more than a comfy nook, complete with bookshelves and a gas fireplace.
This was terrible! Dad had been right. Two leather wingbacks sat in front of the hearth. Nothing strange. Nothing secret. But we were inside now, so I closed the door behind us in case someone came down the hall.
I groaned, utterly mortified. “It’s just a plain old library. Randal probably comes in here to read and relax. What a waste of a locked room. How could I have been so wrong?”
“You give up fast.” Kyle smirked and studied the room.
“I wasn’t giving up,” I said. “But look around. It’s pretty obvious that this is not a great secret.”
He tapped his temple. “To the untrained eye, maybe.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“Something isn’t right.” Kyle crept around the perimeter, examining the walls and the floor.
The space didn’t seem that unusual. It contained all the library essentials—bookshelves, two chairs, and a fireplace.
The only strange thing was the size. “It’s smaller than I expected.” I walked from one side of the room to the other, and it took me only a few steps.
“Exactly.” Kyle pointed at me. “And Randal doesn’t do small.”
“Randal does big—really big. And what is that rubber-cement smell? It really stinks.” I wrinkled my nose.
Kyle sniffed. “It’s coming from somewhere close.”
The heat kicked on. A vent rattled, causing me to jump.
“Nervous?” Kyle asked.
“No,” I lied. I was hoping he couldn’t hear my heart pounding in my chest.
“Let’s scope this place out. Something seems fake, like a stage.”
There was a needlepoint pillow with seals stitched on it placed on one of the chairs. A knitted mauve throw was crumpled up on the ottoman. I ran a finger along the edge of a brass lamp.
“What if this isn’t the whole room?” Kyle stepped overto the bookshelf. “There could be an entire other room behind it.” He ran his hands down the shelving unit.
“You mean … there’s a room within a room?” I pictured the map of the station I’d drawn in my notebook this morning and realized he was right. According to the layout, this room should be as big as the rec room—twice as big as it was.
Kyle shifted
Privacy
was another word for hiding place. Katsu had discovered something, and I needed to know what.
While Kyle went to borrow an extra set of keys from the mechanic he had been working with that morning, I waited outside Randal’s private room, making sure Katsu didn’t return. Finally, red-faced and panting, Kyle came racing around the corner, skidding down the hall in his nonstealthy boots.
“Slow down,” I said, casually glancing around, like I wasn’t looking. I was the lookout, which meant I stood outside the room and acted nonchalant.
“I thought you said to hurry,” he countered, a line of sweat trailing down his temple.
“I did. But it’s the first law of spying—act like you belong, and no one will question that you shouldn’t be doing what you’re doing. Running just makes you look suspicious, like you don’t want to get caught.”
“Right … spymaster.” He dangled the keys, a wry smile on his face.
“How did you get the guy to give them to you?” I asked.
“I told him that I needed to get into the supply cabinet for extra toilet paper. I don’t think he believed me, but no guy questions another guy’s need for toilet paper.”
Kyle tried three or four keys before finding the right one. He glanced up and down the hall one last time and then carefully unlocked the door. Together we slipped inside. The smell of rubber cement filled the room. I felt for the light switch and turned it on. Immediately, my heart sank. The room was nothing more than a comfy nook, complete with bookshelves and a gas fireplace.
This was terrible! Dad had been right. Two leather wingbacks sat in front of the hearth. Nothing strange. Nothing secret. But we were inside now, so I closed the door behind us in case someone came down the hall.
I groaned, utterly mortified. “It’s just a plain old library. Randal probably comes in here to read and relax. What a waste of a locked room. How could I have been so wrong?”
“You give up fast.” Kyle smirked and studied the room.
“I wasn’t giving up,” I said. “But look around. It’s pretty obvious that this is not a great secret.”
He tapped his temple. “To the untrained eye, maybe.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“Something isn’t right.” Kyle crept around the perimeter, examining the walls and the floor.
The space didn’t seem that unusual. It contained all the library essentials—bookshelves, two chairs, and a fireplace.
The only strange thing was the size. “It’s smaller than I expected.” I walked from one side of the room to the other, and it took me only a few steps.
“Exactly.” Kyle pointed at me. “And Randal doesn’t do small.”
“Randal does big—really big. And what is that rubber-cement smell? It really stinks.” I wrinkled my nose.
Kyle sniffed. “It’s coming from somewhere close.”
The heat kicked on. A vent rattled, causing me to jump.
“Nervous?” Kyle asked.
“No,” I lied. I was hoping he couldn’t hear my heart pounding in my chest.
“Let’s scope this place out. Something seems fake, like a stage.”
There was a needlepoint pillow with seals stitched on it placed on one of the chairs. A knitted mauve throw was crumpled up on the ottoman. I ran a finger along the edge of a brass lamp.
“What if this isn’t the whole room?” Kyle stepped overto the bookshelf. “There could be an entire other room behind it.” He ran his hands down the shelving unit.
“You mean … there’s a room within a room?” I pictured the map of the station I’d drawn in my notebook this morning and realized he was right. According to the layout, this room should be as big as the rec room—twice as big as it was.
Kyle shifted
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