“This isn’t gonna work,” Michael whispered.
“Yes it is, just keep your head on straight,” Kyle whispered back.
“Right.”
They walked together, Michael holding Piott’s ID card and Kyle holding the set of keys he’d found in the ignition of the LunaRover. If they played their cards right, they’d get into the office of the Commander of the UNMC’s Space Fleet without anyone noticing. If someone else happened to play a Joker, though, they’d find themselves with a one-way ticket to prison. Kyle tried to think happy thoughts instead.“What did you do to me?” Michael said.
“More like what did you do to us, kid,” Bradley responded, pointing at something on the shell Kyle hadn’t noticed before. In black marker was a phone number and the words
CALL FOR A GOOD TIME, CARTER SUCKS
Tall, wide-shoulders. Absence of light made the person just a silhouette. It stepped over a fallen column that was stuck fast in a diagonal position, propped up by the wall that cornered the two boys.
“Kyle, it’s time for you to know who your friend here really is,” said the familiar voice. It stepped into the light, and Kyle gasped.
“You!”
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