SUNGLASESS AND ROCKETS Part 2: The Machine

A DIFFICULT TASK

My guts turned over again: if we had proceeded with the trip to the moon, it wasn't just for fun...

Damn it.

Darwin fixed his eyeglasses.

"And what will the mission be?"

"First of all, reach the dark side of the moon," the doctor replied and checked his watch again. "Once we're there..." he interrupted himself. "Let's synchronize on the count of three, then, I'll explain."

I consulted my beaten but indestructible Omega. I wiped off the coat of mud and realized that it was 9:35 pm, Guatemala time. I put my thumb on the right button and waited for the countdown.

"Two...three."

I pressed it. Three high pitched rings resounded in a chorus. The thousandths began to run from zero.

"Good," the captain approved.

All tensed, I raised my eyes. The doctor had tipped toward us. He took a long breath, as if preparing himself to speak.

He observed us thoroughly and said nothing. Then, he looked away, putting his hand on his chin in a clearly doubtful state.

Darwin and I watched him wondering. And in my case, with hope too. Could it be that the doctor was having second thoughts? He knew that my friend and I were there out of pure bad luck. By mistake. We might be his team, but by default. Had he finally realized that two high school students had no business whatsoever on the dark side of the moon?

Of course not.

"Before talking about our mission," he burst out all of a sudden," you should know that coming to the moon was the best choice..." He abandoned his pensive posture and turned his head toward us. "Well done."

Our eyes, under a frowned forehead, questioned him.

"In every continent, there are Bat caves," he reminded us. "Each one has a battery of 30 surface-to-air missiles. It would have been almost impossible to cross the atmosphere without being shot down," he looked forward and completed in a serious tone: "Now even more since we are aboard a Vampire."

"Vampire? " Darwin and I inquired.

With a gesture, the doctor stopped the avalanche of questions that was about to take place. He sighed, folding the corners of his mouth.

It was clear that he was about to reveal delicate information. Information which would put our lives into a more compromising situation. But anyway, it would not be the first time our lives ran a risk.

It would be like the hundredth time. Nothing new.

So, then, the doctor had no other option but to speak up and we had no choice but to listen:

"There is a paramilitary group whose only purpose is to take possession of the technology that is developed in Mama Bat," he began. "Naturally, they plan to use this technology in all sorts of terrorist acts..."

Disconcertedness showed up on his pupils' faces.

"This group is sponsored by criminals...powerful and influential..."

At that very moment, I wished that the mud and the darkness had hidden my face effectively when we boarded the boomerang-plane.

"And who are these powerful criminals?" Darwin asked, not intimidated.

"The spacecrafts that they have built," the doctor avoided the question, "we call them Vampires, but unlike—"

"But, who are these criminals?" Darwin insisted. "Where are they?"