Agents of the Glass (14 page)

Jensen released her grip. “Sorry. I get a little carried away sometimes. But, you know, somebody needs to be a little obsessed—no, a
lot
obsessed—with them. You wouldn't believe what they're involved in, or the people they're mixed up with. Did you watch that nonsense they broadcast today in homeroom?”

“It was kind of hard not to. They had the volume up all the way. Especially during the commercials. It didn't seem that bad, though. The news part was kind of interesting, actually.”

“Just wait,” said Jensen. “Sure, they start off with that pretty speech about the twenty-first century and the future of education and how Wellbourne is on the cutting edge of it all, but what they really want is to take us back to the Middle Ages.”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you ever actually
watched
any of the fluff-and-stuff that NTRP puts on the air? There are no writers, no stories, no one with anything approaching
talent.
Hardly any money and absolutely
nothing
creative goes into it. Not that watching it requires any deep thinking. We're turning into a bunch of mouth-breathing zombies. Back in the Middle Ages, when the Catholic Church was in control of just about every part of your life, the church was at least trying to get people to behave. If anything, the junk on NTRP is making people
worse.
It's like they want the country to fall apart.”

“Why would they want that?”

“Same reason anyone wants anarchy—so
they
can take over. God knows what they have planned, but I guarantee you it's not good. I mean, just look at their name:
N-T-R-P.
Entropy
.”

Seeing the confused look on Andy's face, she spelled it out on the cover of her notebook:
E-N-T-R-O-P-Y.
“
Entropy
. Is that a coincidence? I think not.”

“What does that mean, anyway?” Andy already knew the answer from his meetings with Silas, but he was curious to hear what Jensen had to say.

“It has a bunch of meanings. Something to do with thermodynamics, serious scientific stuff. But it also has something to do with disintegration of society—you know, like in
1984.
Big Brother. Dystopia. You know how people are always talking about how the world is going crazy? How everything is turning into chaos? Chaos, entropy— same basic idea.”

“Wow. I guess you've thought about this, huh? Can I…um…talk to you about a couple of pictures on your website?”

“Yeah, after the meeting. Ms. Albemarle said she had some big news.”

Inside the studio, Winter was talking to a boy who Andy hadn't seen before. She waved him over.

“Your
girlfriend
needs you,” said Jensen. “You'd better go.”

“Who's that with her?” he whispered.

“Jealous?”

“I'm just
wondering.
Geez. I haven't seem him around, and he looks older, so I thought you might know him.”

“And to think you called
me
sensitive,” said Jensen, tugging on his sleeve. “Come on, I'll introduce you.”

They started across the room at the same time that Winter and the boy did, and they all met near the center.

The boy grinned as Jensen approached him—a confident, smirky smile. “How are you, Huntley? Did you miss me?”

“Oh, were you gone, Butler? I hadn't noticed.”

“Who's your friend?” he snorted, shooting a quick glance down his perfectly formed nose at Andy, who was shorter by the better part of a foot.

“This is Andy, the boy I was telling you about,” said Winter. As Andy and Robbie Butler shook hands, she held hers out to Jensen. “You know, I don't think we've ever formally met. I'm Winter Neale.”

“Hi. Jensen Huntley. How do you know this loser?” she asked, pointing at Robbie. “Nice of you to finally show up, by the way.”

“Robbie? Our families have known each other for
forever.
They just got back from Switzerland yesterday. They were staying in our house on Lac Léman.”

Jensen elbowed Andy. “They have a house in Switzerland.”

Robbie put his arm around Andy's shoulders as if they were old friends. “So, Andy, Winter tells me you were in public school. What was
that
like?” He didn't wait for an answer before continuing. “You play lacrosse?”

Andy shook his head. “I—I've never even seen a game.”

“Robbie is captain of the lacrosse team,” said Winter. “If you want, he'll teach you. Especially if I ask him to. He owes me, big-time. Don't you, Robbie?” Then, noticing that Ms. Albemarle had joined their circle, she added, “Hi, Ms. Albemarle. Did you have a nice weekend?”

“Yes, thank you for asking, Winter. Hello, everyone. You're just the three I'm looking for. I may have an assignment for you, if you're interested. Sorry, Robbie, but there's only room for three this time.”

“Hey, no
problem,
Ms. A. I'm just, you know, checking things out. I don't really have time for Broadcast this year, but my parents are making me do it for college.” He shrugged and started for the door.

“Ah, so your heart is really in it,” Ms. Albemarle said. “It's so sweet of you to give something back like that.”

“Well done, Ms. A.,” said Jensen, clapping her hands. “You know, that's the first time I've ever heard you be sarcastic. You should definitely do it more often. You're good.”

“Thank you, Jensen. Coming from you, that's high praise.”

“There! See! You did it again!”

Ms. Albemarle held up her hand. “Stop. I shouldn't have done it. What if I hurt his feelings?”

Jensen almost fell over laughing. “Robbie Butler? Feelings? That's a good one.”

“She's right, Ms. A.,” said Winter. “You don't have to worry about Robbie. I'm pretty sure he was born without a heart. So, what's this assignment you were talking about?”

Ms. Albemarle held up plastic badges hanging from red lanyards. “It's very exciting. Deanna Decameron managed to snag press credentials for a conference about technology in education, and I immediately thought of you three. It'll be good experience for Andy, and I think Winter, as our new anchor, deserves the opportunity, too. There will be a lot of important people there, maybe even a former president, I'm told. It's a week from Wednesday, and it starts at nine o'clock, so you'll be excused from your classes after first period. Jensen, you'll be in charge. These give you access to all the programs—
and
you'll get some great stuff. All you have to do is shoot a little video and write a story for the following week's broadcast. So, what do you think?”

“Woo-hoo,” said Jensen without breaking a smile. “An education conference.”

“Oh, come on. It could be interesting.”

“Yeah, if your idea of fun is watching a bunch of people who don't know anything about kids talking about the best way to teach them.
Fascinating.
”

Ms. Albemarle appealed to the newest member of the team. “How about it, Andy? Your first out-of-school assignment, and you get to go with my star reporter and our new anchor. Aren't you excited?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure, I'll do it.”

“What about the library story?” Jensen asked. “That's still ours, right? Because it's…bigger than we thought. We have some investigative work to do, and it might take a little longer than we thought.”

“That's still all yours,” said Ms. Albemarle.

Jensen took one of the lanyards from her. “So where is this thing?”

“Oh, that's the best part. It's in Midtown, at the NTRP Broadcast Center. They—”

“What?!” cried out Jensen, Winter, and Andy simultaneously.

“Are you serious?” Jensen asked.

“That is so cool,” said Winter.

Andy was too surprised to say anything else.

“My, I had no idea that the location would make such a difference in your attitude,” said Ms. Albemarle. “Well, I guess I'll call Deanna and tell her to expect all three of you.”

Jensen couldn't stop smiling as she led Andy to the row of computers in the far corner of the studio. After making sure no one was looking over her shoulder, she logged on to her website.

“This is
awesome.
I have been trying to get inside that building for months.”

Then she pushed her chair back abruptly, crossed her arms over her chest, and scowled at Andy. “Wait a second. Why are
you
so excited about getting into NTRP? We've never talked about it; I would remember that. Who are you, really? Did they send you to spy on me? I thought it was kind of suspicious—new kid at school assigned to work with me. Is Ms. Albemarle in on it, too? It's because of my website, isn't it? So they
do
know about me. I had a feeling I was being watched. Somebody was following me this morning.”

“What are you talking about? Did
who
send me? And who is watching you?”

“NTRP. As if you didn't know. Tell me the truth: Are they CIA? They are, aren't they! I knew it. And your little girlfriend, Winter, I suppose she's a spy, too. She had exactly the same reaction.”

“You're…absolutely…
crazy.
Nobody sent me. I don't know anything about them. I just think it's a cool building. I like architecture, okay? Why are
you
so excited? How do I know they didn't send
you
? And if I was working for them, why would I be so excited to go there? It doesn't even make sense. And she's not my girlfriend.”

Jensen considered all that for a moment, then nodded. “You've got a point. Who's your favorite architect?”

“What?”

“You said you like architecture. You must have a favorite.”

“Buckminster Fuller,” Andy answered. He had read something about Fuller once in school, and the name stuck.

“Oh. Yeah, he's all right,” said Jensen. “I have an uncle who lives in one of those dome things he designed. He's in California. He's an idiot. Raises lambs for some big restaurant in Napa. My parents sent me out there once. God, I hated it. It's all so phony.” She pulled up a picture of the NTRP tower. “I can't prove anything yet, but I know there's something big going on. Ever since I wrote that article, I've been trying to figure out what it is, and I'm getting nowhere. I waited outside the building and even talked to a few people who work there. They're like robots. They all say the same thing: this stupid memorized speech about the quality of their programming and some nonsense about being dedicated to building a better world—all
super
vague, you know.”

“Do you really think they're like that—spies, that kind of stuff? Aren't they just another network like CBS and NBC?”

“I guess we're going to have to find the answer to that next Wednesday.”

“Did you really think
I
was a spy?”

“Hey, nothing would surprise me.” Jensen gazed across the room at Winter, who was watching video for a story about the lacrosse team. “What about her?”

Andy looked up at Winter, and their eyes met. Then they both quickly turned away. “She doesn't really seem like the spying type.”

“God, you're naïve. She's
exactly
the spying type. That girl could sell a pit bull to the lady in my building who has thirteen cats. You just have a crush on her.” She turned back to the computer before he had a chance to protest. “Now let me show you some pictures.”

Jensen first clicked on a picture of two men sitting on a park bench. “The one on the right looks kind of familiar, doesn't he? I don't think he's important…but
this
guy,” she said, pointing to the man with the ponytail, “is definitely
somebody.
I have a bunch of shots of him, but I can't find out who he is. I've tried following him, but it's like he knows. One minute he's there and then—poof—he's gone.”

“He is a little creep—” Andy stopped, not believing his eyes as Jensen clicked on the next picture. There they were, ponytail guy and Howard Llewellyn, having a friendly chat on a park bench. But the third person—Silas, on a bench in the background, reading his newspaper—was gone. The bench was empty.

“What the…That's impossible.”

“What?”

Andy bit his lip. He couldn't tell Jensen about Silas; he knew her well enough to know that she would have a million questions—questions that he either couldn't or
shouldn't
answer.

“You're not going to believe this,” he said, shaking his head as if
he
were having a hard time of it. He pointed at Howard. “
That
…is my father.”

“Get out.” She returned to the first photo and zoomed in on the face. “Are you sure? You can't really see—”

“It's him. I'm positive. The way he's sitting, his hand…”

“Who is he? Why is he…What does he
do
?”

“You really want to know?” Andy cringed. He had been dreading this moment. “You can't tell anyone. Promise?”

Jensen made an
X
over her heart. “Hope to die.”

“My dad is…Howard Twopenny. You know, on the radio. WUUU.”

“No. Way. That crazy
Tellin' It Like It Is
guy? That's your
dad
?”

“Shhh! People can hear you! You promised.”

“I'm…sorry. I just can't believe it. I never would have made that connection. He's…and you're…just so…
different.
You are, aren't you? It's not like I listen to him, but I know who he is. He's always going on and on about all those stupid reality shows on NTRP, about how great they are.”

Andy nodded, his eyes closed. “That's him. Although, to be honest, I don't think he actually watches any of those shows. He's never home when they're on.”

“He probably pays some peon to watch and then tell him what happens. So, what do you think this is all about?” Jensen asked, pointing at the picture of Howard on the park bench. “Do you recognize this guy with the ponytail? Maybe he's from the radio station?”

“If he is, I've never seen him, and I used to go there a lot.”

Jensen logged out of the computer and turned to Andy. “Is this going to be weird, you working with me? I understand that he's your dad and all, but to me, he's one of
them.
He's the enemy.”

“I can handle it. For now.”

“One more question. Your real name isn't Sandy, is it? You're, like, Howard Junior, aren't you?”

Andy banged his head on the desk.

“Are you sure? You usually have root beer.” The woman behind the cash register at YouNeedItWeGotIt! held up the bottle of ginger ale and looked long and hard into Andy's eyes.

“It's okay, Nora,” Silas said, fully expecting Andy to jump out of his skin. It was Silas's turn to be surprised, though, as Andy didn't even flinch. “Ah, you're getting used to me.”

“I heard you,” he admitted. “I thought spies always wore sneakers.”

“I'm not a spy. Remember? I'm here to help people like you. Now trade that ginger ale in for a root beer and come to the back room for a minute. Go to the cooler where the beer is and take a right.”

The back room wasn't much to look at, but it did have a card table and two folding chairs pushed up against the far wall. A neon advertising sign buzzed annoyingly, so Silas unplugged it, and then he motioned to Andy to sit.

“Before you start, how's everything going with Penny?” Silas asked. “Has she won over your dad yet?”

“She's starting to. He even took her for a walk this morning. That's okay, isn't it?”

“Absolutely. The best thing is to get comfortable with her, and for her to get used to you and the neighborhood. Has she…acted strangely around anyone?”

“Only once. The day I got her. We were in the park, and I think she saw something. There were two people in running clothes. They stopped to get a drink, and she growled. I tried to use the glass, but…”

“Oh? And?”

Andy smiled to himself. Maybe Silas didn't know about the incident in the park after all. “I'm not sure. I thought I saw something in it, but it happened too fast.”

“Something…like what?”

“It was weird. I couldn't see anything through it, but then I could, just for a second. I'm not even sure if it was the guy or the girl.”

Silas nodded. “And no one saw you? And you didn't tell anyone?”

“No, I swear. I've been careful.”

Even though he knew that Andy hadn't told the whole story, Silas didn't press the matter. He was gaining Andy's trust, and there was no reason to jeopardize that. “Okay, good. Everything else all right? What do you hear from your mom?”

“She's coming home next week. Well, unless…you know, she doesn't. That's the way her job is, sometimes. Hey, I have another question for you.”

“Shoot.”

“Remember that girl Jensen? There are these two pictures on her website. She's…well, she's obsessed with NTRP, so she followed—”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what? I haven't said anything.”

“Yes, I changed the pictures. That's what you were going to ask, isn't it? I had to. I couldn't take that chance. Look, Jensen might be helpful, but we have to be very careful. She's not like you, Andy.”

“So you know basically everything I do on my computer? You're spying on me?”

“It's for your…Look, I know it sounds bad. As far as the Agency is concerned, though, you're still new, untested. It won't always be like this, but we're at a critical stage. Things are happening fast, and I need to prove to everyone that you are the real deal. For now it's best if we keep some information on a need-to-know basis.”

“Why were you spying on my dad? Is he…involved? Is he…one of
them
? I never even thought to use the glass on him. And who is the guy he's talking to?”