Trouble in Warp Space Read online

  “Well, we’re getting those, too,” she said. “Or at least my brother is.”

  Chet put his hands behind his head and smiled. “Well, I did enter you in the contest, after all. It’s only fair that I share in the prize.”

  “You got your share of lumps, too,” Frank said.

  “Yeah,” Chet said. “What is up with Geoff Gross? Is he just a creep, or what?”

  “There’s no way to tell, yet,” Joe said. “We’ll keep poking around, though. Someone’s behind all these troubles in Warp Space. It’s only a matter of time before we figure out who.”

  Chet rolled over. “Would you grab me a soda out of the fridge, Frank?” he asked. “I’m too pooped to walk across the room. I think even my bruises have bruises.”

  “Sure thing,” Frank said. He walked to the trailer’s small fridge and opened the door, then frowned. “We’re out. They must not have restocked it today.”

  “Ah, the disadvantages of being extras!” Iola said. “I bet Jerri Bell has fresh soda in her trailer every day.”

  “It’s no problem,” Joe said. “I’ll walk to the vending machines by the cafeteria and get some.”

  “Hurry back,” Chet said.

  Joe left the trailer and headed for the closed cafeteria. Before he’d gone too far, though, a light from the production office caught his eye. The light played across the window like a flashlight beam. Someone was inside the office looking for something.

  Before Joe could investigate further, though, the light snapped off and the door to the office opened. A lithe figure stepped out into the shadows. Hoping for a better look, Joe followed. The intruder stuck to the shadows, moving quickly but keeping out of sight.

  Joe trailed the shadowy figure all the way back to the soundstage. The figure sneaked inside; Joe did the same.

  Moving cautiously, Joe followed the soft sounds of footsteps toward the bridge stage. There, he saw a familiar alien figure inspecting one of the ship’s control panels.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Joe walked forward.

  “Hey, Mr. Pekar,” he said. “Are you still working? I thought everyone had gone home.”

  The man in the blue-scaled alien mask spun around and punched Joe square in the face.

  11 Battle on the Bridge

  Joe staggered back, more shocked than hurt.

  Before the younger Hardy could recover, the alien dropped into a crouch and sweep-kicked Joe behind the knees. Joe landed hard on the floor of the bridge. The set’s thin carpeting did little to cushion the blow.

  Joe tried to get to his feet, but the alien pushed a console over on top of him. The painted plywood and plastic hit Joe hard, leaving a long scrape down his left arm. The alien turned to flee.

  “Oh, no you don’t!” Joe said. From under the console he grabbed the toe of the alien’s sneaker.

  The alien tripped and sprawled headlong into the command seat. The seat rocked precariously but didn’t fall over. Joe pushed the toppled console aside and scrambled to his feet.

  Joe threw a punch at the alien, but the blue-masked man spun the command chair around. Joe’s knuckles cracked against the chair’s high back as the alien jumped to his feet and hopped over the control panel behind the chair.

  Rather than hurdle the panel, Joe raced to the left, heading for a gap between the command stations. The alien saw him coming, picked up a nearby chair, and flung it at Joe.

  Joe ducked and the chair struck the command station to his left. The panel exploded in a shower of sparks, momentarily blinding Joe. While he recovered, the alien dashed for the door at the back of the bridge. But the door mechanism jammed, and he couldn’t get through.

  Brushing the sparks out of his hair, Joe ran for the door as well. As the alien turned to face him, Joe hit his quarry with a flying tackle.

  The two of them smashed through the thin plywood door and into the fake elevator beyond. The alien tried to knee Joe in the chin, but Joe rolled away. Both combatants scrambled to their feet.

  The masked man pulled a circuit panel off the elevator wall and hurled it at Joe. Joe batted the plastic box aside and came at the alien again.

  The younger Hardy threw a punch at the alien’s blue face. But the masked man ducked, grabbed Joe’s arm, and turned Joe’s momentum against him.

  Before Joe could recover, the alien used a judo move to smash him into the elevator wall. The wall gave way, and Joe fell onto the hard concrete beyond. He landed awkwardly on his shoulder, wincing with the impact. Gritting his teeth, he got to his feet, but by that time the intruder had run back into the bridge set. Joe exited the elevator just in time to see the intruder run off the set and into the darkness.

  Joe sprinted after him, trying to keep track of his foe in the dim light. The alien led Joe back toward the shuttle bay set. The intruder moved quickly in the darkness, easily dodging around the equipment littering the stage.

  The alien ducked into the shuttle bay, with Joe close on his heels. Joe darted through a set door to go after his foe, but tripped over a long cable stretched across the doorway. As he fell forward, he heard the creak of a portable light stand giving way. He looked up to see the light falling straight toward his head.

  A figure stepped from the shadows and grabbed the stand, stopping its fall.

  “Frank!” Joe said. “Am I glad to see you!”

  Frank smiled. “I got worried when you didn’t come back right away,” the elder Hardy said. “I went looking and the stage door was open. I heard a commotion and came inside.”

  “It’s Pekar,” Joe said, scrambling to his feet. “He jumped me and we fought. I chased him in here.”

  “He led you into a trap,” Frank concluded. “I saw him run out as I came in. Come on. We can still catch him.”

  Both brothers ran for the exit on the far side of the set. “Cable!” Joe yelled as they reached the entrance to the engine room set. Frank glanced down in time to see the trap before he tripped over it. He jumped over the cable and through the set’s door.

  As he landed, something heavy crashed down on his head. Stars burst before his eyes, and he staggered forward, barely able to stand.

  Joe charged through the door just as the alien raised the fire extinguisher to hit Frank again. The younger Hardy hammered his fist into the intruder’s gut. The alien dropped the heavy metal cylinder and lurched backward.

  Joe dodged the extinguisher as it fell, and lunged at the alien. But the intruder spun, aiming a sweeping kick at Joe’s head. Joe ducked and threw a punch toward the alien’s blue face. The younger Hardy’s fist connected with the intruder’s chin.

  The alien fell back but brought his knee up into Joe’s midsection. The air rushed out of Joe’s lungs, and he fell to the floor. The alien turned and climbed up a service ladder leading to the balcony level of the set.

  “You didn’t tell me he knew kung fu,” Frank said as both brothers staggered to their feet.

  “It must have slipped my mind when he kicked me in the head,” Joe replied. “You go left, I’ll go right. We’ll trap him on the upper level.” The brothers split up, Joe climbing the same ladder that the alien had used. Frank headed for the ladder on the opposite side of the room.

  As the brothers climbed, the alien sprinted around the engine room’s circular balcony. He reached some rigging cables dangling halfway between the ladders and began to climb up toward an overhead catwalk.

  Joe was faster than his foe had reckoned. The younger Hardy reached the upper level in seconds and spotted a toolbox lying by one of the panels on the floor. Snatching it up, he heaved it at the intruder.

  The alien saw the box coming and let go of the cables just in time. As the alien dropped to the balcony floor, the toolbox flew over his head and crashed behind him against the set wall.

  As Joe charged forward, the alien grabbed the rigging cables and snapped them like a whip. The cables lashed forward and wrapped themselves around Joe’s neck and chest. Joe grabbed at the cables to keep them from choking him. The alien
kicked at him, and Joe staggered back out of the way. The tangled cables made it difficult for the younger Hardy to maneuver.

  Fortunately, Frank arrived at that moment and charged at the intruder. The elder Hardy ducked under the alien’s spin kick and responded with a karate chop to the masked man’s knee. The intruder grunted, but kept his feet.

  Joe tugged on the cables, trying to free himself, but his action had the opposite effect. A panel in the ceiling pulled off, nearly hitting Joe in the head, and a huge mass of tangled wires fell down around the younger Hardy. Several of the wires sparked and smoked as they broke loose. It was all Joe could do to avoid them, and to stay out of Frank’s way.

  The alien spun and tried to kick Frank in the head. Frank ducked back and responded with a sweep kick of his own. He caught the alien at the ankle and the masked man fell onto his back.

  “Frank, help!” Joe gasped. Struggling with the sparking wires, he’d become even more enmeshed in the cables. Now the younger Hardy tottered perilously close to the balcony railing.

  Frank grabbed Joe’s shirt to keep him from falling backward. Those few seconds were all the alien needed to regain his feet. As Frank steadied his brother, the alien kicked the elder Hardy hard in the back.

  Frank toppled forward over the balcony railing.

  “Frank!” Joe called. He reached out, but the tangled cables kept him from catching his falling brother.

  Fortunately, Frank’s grasping fingers caught the edge of the balcony floor as he fell past. His fingertips dug into the carpeting, but his grip wasn’t solid.

  Frank knew that the twenty-foot drop to the studio floor probably wouldn’t kill him. On the other hand, he would be lucky to escape without any broken bones. He tried to squeeze the carpet harder, but the nap of the fabric kept slipping from his grasp.

  “Hang on, Frank!” Joe called.

  Working frantically, Joe yanked himself free from the cables just as Frank lost his grip on the edge.

  Joe lunged forward and grabbed for Frank’s hands as they started slipping away. The younger Hardy caught hold of his brother’s fingers and squeezed tight. Frank’s fingers began to pull free.

  The older Hardy winced in pain as Joe tightened his grip. Then, with a mighty heave, Joe slowly pulled his brother up to the balcony.

  Frank scrambled over the railing, immediately looking for the intruder. “Pekar’s gone,” he said, exasperation tingeing his voice.

  “Well, it was either let him get away or let you drop,” Joe said.

  Frank smiled slightly. “Glad you made the right choice.”

  They climbed down from the engine room balcony and looked around but saw no trace of the intruder. Before they left the set, though, Chet and Iola came in.

  “What are you guys up to?” Iola asked. “You were gone so long we got worried and decided to look for you.”

  “Oh, just fighting for our lives against Stan Pekar,” Joe said.

  “The makeup man?” Chet asked.

  “Yeah,” Frank said. “It looks like he may have been behind the sabotage after all.”

  “He pulled a stunt on me that was pretty similar to when you tripped over that light stand in the park, Iola,” Joe said.

  “But it doesn’t make any sense,” she said. “Stan Pekar has a long and distinguished career in TV and film.”

  Chet shrugged. “Hey, sometimes folks just go crazy,” he said. “Or maybe he’s having money troubles or other problems we don’t know about.”

  “I’ll admit, he wasn’t at the top of my suspects list,” Frank said, “but I’ve got the bruises to prove he was up to no good.”

  “So, where is he?” Chet asked.

  “He got away,” Joe said, “after pushing Frank off the engine room balcony.”

  “Good thing Joe caught me,” Frank said, “though I wish we could have stopped Pekar, too.”

  “Maybe he’s still on the lot,” Iola suggested. “We should call the front gate.”

  “Good idea,” said Joe. They found a studio phone and called the guard post. “We’re in luck,” he said, hanging up. “They say Pekar hasn’t left.”

  “Let’s find him, then,” Chet said. “We’ll split up and—”

  “No,” Frank said. “He’s a kung fu expert. We should stick together.”

  “Maybe he headed for the makeup room,” Iola said.

  “That would make sense,” Joe said. “He’d probably want to remove his mask, as well as cover up any other evidence before leaving.”

  The teens walked through the darkened soundstage toward the door leading to the makeup room in the adjoining brick building.

  They hadn’t gone too far, though, when Iola spotted someone hunkered in the shadows beside the stage wall. Joe and Frank sprinted forward, ready to resume their fight.

  “All right, Pekar,” Joe said, “this is where you get your comeuppance!”

  Pekar was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall with his legs splayed out in front of him. He didn’t respond.

  “Joe,” Frank said, “he’s out cold.”

  12 A Shocking Turn

  “How can he be unconscious?” Chet said. “You said he was fighting with you just a few minutes ago.”

  “Maybe we hurt him more than we thought,” Joe suggested.

  “I don’t think so, Joe,” Frank said. “If he passed out after the fight, where’s his mask?”

  “What mask?” Iola asked.

  “The alien getup we saw him in earlier,” Joe said. “He was wearing it when we fought.”

  “Well, I don’t see it anywhere,” Chet said.

  “He was wearing gloves when we fought, too,” Frank said.

  Joe nodded. “But he’s not now. And his clothes are different.”

  “He’s coming around,” Iola said.

  Sure enough, Stan Pekar coughed and his eyes fluttered open. “Who hit me?” he asked groggily.

  Frank and Joe looked at each other. “You mean in the engine room?” Frank asked.

  “Engine room?” Pekar said groggily. “What are you talking about?”

  Frank’s eyes narrowed. “Didn’t you just . . . see us on the engine room set?”

  Pekar shook his head and winced. “I don’t think so. I’d finished with the sets and was headed back to makeup. . . . Then suddenly I’m seeing stars.” He gingerly rubbed the back of his skull.

  “Did you leave your mask somewhere?” Joe asked.

  “No, I’m still . . .” Pekar touched his face with his fingers. “Hey! Where’s my mask?”

  “Someone took it,” Frank said.

  “And then got into a running battle with us throughout the soundstage,” Joe added.

  “Did you get him?” Pekar asked. He struggled to stand. Chet and Iola helped him to his feet.

  “No,” Frank said. “He got away.”

  “Not before busting up some sets, though,” Joe added.

  Pekar rolled his eyes. “Oh, no! That’s the last thing we need!”

  “We thought we were fighting you,” Frank said. “He was wearing your mask.”

  “I wouldn’t last two rounds with you guys,” Pekar said.

  “Well, this guy went the distance,” Joe said, “and then some. We were lucky to get away with just bruises.”

  “Big guy, was he?” Pekar asked. He was looking more alert by the moment.

  “Not really,” Frank said, and realized the man they had been fighting was much slimmer than Pekar. “But he knew what he was doing in a fight.”

  “He knew his way around the sets, too,” Joe said.

  Pekar rubbed the back of his head again. “I’d say he was pretty good at clubbing people from behind, as well.”

  “Why’d he take the mask, though?” Frank asked.

  “Maybe he didn’t want to be recognized,” Iola suggested. “Though who’d be around to recognize him this late, I don’t know.”

  “The studio’s not going to like this,” Pekar said. He called security, and security called Webb and O’S
ullivan, both of whom quickly arrived on the set.

  “We’d better not tell the studio execs tonight,” Webb said.

  A very sleepy Sandy O’Sullivan nodded. “No need to wake them with bad news about the show. We can alert them in the morning.”

  “We really should call the police,” Joe said.

  Sandy shook her head. “If the police get involved, it’ll slow production further,” she said.

  “And attract the attention of the news media,” Webb added, suppressing a yawn. “We don’t need reporters poking around. We’ve got enough trouble meeting our schedule as it is. If we’re not careful, this could be the end of the show.”

  “Let’s not overreact,” Sandy said. “We’ve gotten through some tight spots before. What we really need is to get some rest and start fresh tomorrow.”

  “You mean later this morning,” Pekar said, correcting her.

  She sighed. “Later this morning, then.”

  Security locked the place down for the night and posted guards outside the soundstage. Webb, O’Sullivan, and Pekar went home to catch what sleep they could before reporting to work in the morning. Pekar refused to go to the hospital to have his head looked at. “Who has time?” he said.

  The Hardys and the Mortons were escorted back to their trailer by the studio guards.

  “How bad do you think the studio situation really is?” Iola asked when they were alone.

  “Pretty bad, I’d say,” Frank said. “Webb and O’Sullivan took the damage to the sets in stride, but it’s sure to hit the show in the pocketbook.”

  “Boy,” Iola said, “things sure have been messed up since we got here.”

  “At least Sandy and Webb aren’t blaming us for the troubles,” Chet said.

  “Not yet, anyway,” Joe countered. “But they could. After all, Frank and I are the only ones who saw this intruder we fought.”

  “How did the real culprit get past the guards?” Chet asked.

  “Clearly he knows the studio better than we do,” Frank said. “We were lucky to catch him at all on the soundstage. If there’d been only one of us, he’d have gotten away scott free.”

  “And security isn’t great at the studio,” Joe said. “Probably that’s one of the areas where they’re saving money.”