Chapter 3
The cloud-skimmer was meant for one person, but they were still able to fit on the seat together, as if they were riding a motorcycle. Gadget sat in front, pulling on the two handlebars to steer, and Terry was behind her. They cruised across the sky, weaving between spires and towers, veering left and right to avoid colliding with bigger aircraft. As they hit the outskirts of Verne, the air was more open.
The X on the map was between two mountain peaks. Gadget saw the peaks now and headed for them. As she got closer she saw a large, run-down Victorian-style mansion. But it was big even for a mansion—about twenty stories high.
“It must be there!” she shouted and leaned forward to descend. It occurred to her that she had no idea how to brake. The cloud-skimmer gained speed as she approached. They were about to crash into the building.
“Stop!” Terry screamed behind her.
“I don’t know how!” She looked desperately for controls.
“Use your feet!”
For most of their trip, she had let her feet dangle off the sides of the vehicle. She now saw footrests and stretched her legs, finding the pedals and pushing them moments before the cloud-skimmer smashed into the front of the building. A parachute puffed out behind them and they slowed, striking the side of the building but bouncing back unharmed. The machine spun as they dropped and hit the ground with a bump.
“Maybe I’ll drive from now on,” Terry said.
Gadget rolled her eyes. “Now that I know where the brakes are, I’ll be fine.”
They got off the cloud-skimmer and looked up at the big mansion. It must have been white at some time but was now muddy and gray. Shingles had been blown off the steep roof, probably long ago. There were cobwebs in the windows. A tower rose high on one side and leaned to the left. It looked like it would collapse the next time there was a hard wind.
A sign was staked in the lawn. The paint had faded but she could still read it:
WELCOME TO THE BENBOW INN
“Better find out what’s in there before it falls down,” she said.
“Try not to breathe on it,” Terry joked, but he followed her to the entrance.
The boards creaked as they walked up the sagging porch and pushed open the front door.
“Baggage?” a wooden bellhop asked when they entered. It looked like a life-sized wooden toy that walked and talked. It was at least seven feet tall and wide enough to block the door. Its red hat looked tiny on its enormous head.
“Where’s your baggage?” the bellhop asked again.
“We don’t have any,” Gadget said.
“You must have baggage,” the bellhop said. “There is always baggage.”
“It’s coming on a sky-cab,” Terry added quickly. The bellhop grunted and stood aside.
“Good thinking,” she whispered as they passed it. “I thought we’d have to battle that robot.”
“It’s called an automaton,” Terry corrected her.
“What’s the difference?”
“I don’t know. That’s just what it’s called here.”
“Got it. Aw-tah-mah-ton,” she repeated.
The inside of the hotel was as shabby as the outside. There were water stains and bald spots on the carpet, cracks in the plaster, and practically an inch of dust on the floor.
No footprints in the dust, Gadget noted. That means we’re the first ones here in a long time. If we find treasure and get out before any of the other teams find it, we’ll win. Or at least we won’t lose.
Another wooden man stood at the front desk. In front of him was an enormous open book, also covered with dust. The automaton woke as they approached.
“Greetings—greetings—greetings—” he repeated.
Gadget glanced back at Terry. “Have you run into any broken automatons yet?”
“Nope. Maybe give it a whack—that’s what my dad does to our TV.”
She reached over and hit the automaton on the shoulder. The movement knocked it out of its loop.
“We currently have no vacancies,” it said in an automated voice. “Sorry for the inconvenience! Next time make a reservation!”
“How can there be no vacancies?” Terry asked from behind her. “This place is deserted!”
“Sorry for the inconvenience!” the clerk repeated.
“We don’t need any rooms,” Gadget said. “I just want to ask about a former guest.”
“Sorry! We do not give out any personal information! We are most discreet—most discreet—” the machine said again and again. Gadget reached over and gave it another knock, but this time she accidentally pushed it over. It crashed to the floor with the sound of blown springs.
“Oops,” Gadget said when the automaton didn’t get up. “Well, let’s have a look at the guest registry.” She pulled the big book around and brushed the dust off to read the faded ink. She flipped back through the pages until she saw the name Weston Fawkes.
She tapped it. “That must be Captain Fawkes’s dad. He stayed here sometimes. Thought so. That’s why this place is marked on the map.”
“So there’s no treasure here?” Terry asked.
“Not likely. But there might be a clue. Look.” Across from the name was the note Tower. “That’s where he stayed.” She flipped through the pages. “Looks like he was the last one to stay in the tower. Maybe he left something behind?”
“Maybe,” Terry said. He frowned. “Does that mean we have to go up in that tower that looks like it’s about to collapse?”
“Yep,” she said. “Let’s go.”
Past the desk was a rickety spiral staircase. An automaton knelt in front of it, hammering on the first step. Gadget tried to step over the automaton, but an invisible force stopped her.
“Please use the elevators,” the automaton said. “Sorry for the inconvenience.” He went back to hammering.
“I’m getting sick of that phrase,” she muttered as she tapped the button for the elevator. After a long wait, a door slowly opened. Inside was an automaton elevator operator.
As she and Terry got on, the automaton asked, “Which floor, please?”
“The tower,” she answered.
“The twentieth floor,” the automaton said. “Up we go!” The elevator groaned to life and slowly made its way up. The elevator came to a halt at the ninth floor, and the door opened.
“Have a nice day!” the elevator operator said.
Gadget peered out from her place in the elevator car. “This is the wrong floor,” she said. “We want to go the tower.”
“This is your floor. Have a nice day!”
“Everything in this place is broken,” she grumbled.
“This panel is loose,” Terry said. He crouched behind the elevator operator and removed a metal plate. Inside was a tangled mess of wires and bolts.
“I bet we have to rewire it,” Gadget said, studying it. The wires emerged on the left side of the panel and connected to one or more of the bolts on the right side.
“I don’t know what to make of this,” Terry said.
“It’s actually not too much of a mess, if you know what you’re looking at.” She fiddled with the wires and bolts for a few minutes before finally rearranging the wires in what she hoped was the correct order.
“Take us to the tower, please,” she tried again.
“Up we go!” The operator said, and the elevator groaned to life, taking them all the way to the top.
Gadget stepped off the elevator onto a small landing with a single door, which was opened a crack. She pushed it all the way open.
“The penthouse is being cleaned!” an automaton maid told her. It was wiping at a mirror with a gray cloth that was full of holes. “Sorry for the inconvenience.”
“I don’t mind if you clean while I’m here,” Gadget said, stepping into the room. Terry followed her in.
“Please wait while the room is being cleaned,” said the robot again. “Sorry for the inconvenience.”
Ignoring the robot, they searched the room. It didn’t take long. The room wasn’t clean, but it was empty. Nothing in the drawers and closet. Nothing under the bed or behind the dresser.
Terry sighed. “Guess we wasted our time coming here.”
“Yeah,” she admitted.
The maid was still swiping at the filthy mirror.
There’s something written on that cloth, Gadget realized.
“Let’s head to another location,” Terry said eagerly. He took out his map and squinted at it. “It’s too dark to read in here. Let’s get back outside.”
“I want to see one more thing.”
“Don’t take too long. I’m going to go look at my map in the sunlight.” Terry hurried out of the room while Gadget approached the maid.
“I can finish cleaning the mirror,” she said. “You can take a break.”
“Really?” The automaton handed her the cloth. “A break?”
“Sure.”
“I’ve never had a break!”
“Well, knock yourself out.”
The automaton maid hummed happily to itself.
Gadget unfolded the cloth and took a better look. The writing she’d seen was initials: the letters WF stitched into the cloth.
It could stand for Weston Fawkes, she thought. And these holes in the cloth look snipped out, not like random rips. She laid out the map on the bed and put the cloth on top of it. She rotated the cloth, flipped it over, and rotated it again. The eight holes in the cloth now revealed eight of the marks on the map.
It’s a decoder! I bet this shows where the treasures are. That gives me a huge edge on the others. I mean ‘us,’ she corrected herself. She’d already forgotten about Terry. But do I want to tell him? She memorized the eight locations revealed on the map. She decided a snail-shaped island in the harbor would be her first destination. It was closest to the hotel and far enough away from the city center that they probably wouldn’t land themselves in a battle with other pirates.
I don’t have a treasure yet, but I’m making progress, she thought as she put her map back in her bag.
The automaton was still humming to itself.
“Break time is over,” Gadget said. She handed the cloth back to the maid.
“Oh,” the maid said sadly.
“Sorry for the inconvenience.” Gadget left the room and pushed the elevator call button repeatedly with no luck.
She started down the stairs. Twenty floors, she thought grimly, but down is easier than up. Hope Terry doesn’t get sick of waiting and take off without me . . .
She reached the bottom and jumped over the railing to avoid the automaton carpenter still banging on the bottom step. When she hit the floor she realized there were four strangers dressed in what looked to be some kind of military uniform standing in the lobby, and two of them were holding Terry.