Chapter I
I woke up, slipping in and out of consciousness. There was only a desk and it's chair in the stark white room I was in.
A door opened and a man walked in slowly. He whispered something to the two guards in suits by the door. When one lifted his hand, it revealed a gun concealed in a holster under his jacket. The door closed and the man sat down at the desk. He looked like his suit was dry cleaned with him in it. His midnight black hair was slicked back, giving the impression of darkness swallowing him.
“Hello Benjamin, I'm Nicholas Knight, a friend of your father's,” He said without the slightest hint of emotion.
“Nicholas Knight, THE Nicholas Knight?” I questioned, awe showing on my face. Knight created robots that put together cars, my dad had at least five in his factory. My dad makes cars, really expensive, fast cars called Usignoli or Nightingales in English.
“Yeah, but I needed to talk to you about something more important,” he replied, fear emerging into his cloudy gray eyes, “Your dad has been kidnapped. I gave him an emergency beacon concealed in his phone a while back in case something happened to him. Two days ago the beacon was activated. It showed him in the middle of Egypt.”
“And this involves me why? He left for a business trip yesterday, he isn't in Egypt,” I asked, racking my brain for the answer I wanted.
“No, he didn't, you found a letter didn't you, chances are it's fake. It involves you because your dad had a vault that had a secret new car project called Nightingales 17. The vault is only accessible by your dad or you. Bring the car and letter here by six p.m. tomorrow night so we can get the seventeen ready,” Mr. Knight instructed, handing me a card, “This has the address and my phone number. Call from anywhere and you get a direct line to me with no landlines, no charge, and no wait. Six tomorrow night. Don't tell anyone or they could die,” He stopped, letting it all sink in.
“OK. Thanks Mr. Knight,” I mumbled, tears welling up in my eyes.
“Call me Nicholas,” He stood up, motioning with his meaty hands for me to follow. I walked out the doors of the office, guards surrounding Nicholas and me. He stopped by the front doors while I kept going out to a car sitting there. I crawled in, staring out the window.
When we got back, I tipped the driver and went inside. I went into the kitchen to get something to eat and Mario, our butler, ran up, “Hello sir, what can I do for you?” He asked.
“Nothing at the second,” I thought for a second, seeing the espression on his face that said he was doing something later. “Actually, here's five hundred dollars, take the rest of the day off and spend it on something nice.” Did I mention I was rich?
“Thank you sir,” His Egyptian face lit up as I handed him the bills. He was happy enough he could've skipped out of the room. I turned around, and saw a paper with the words Nightingales 17 written in big, black letters. I picked it up and saw that it had instructions of how to find the vault. Below it was the note from my “Dad” that said he left for a business trip. “Business trip my foot,” I expounded, thinking aloud. I squeezed the instructions in my hands so hard I had white knuckles. I stuffed the note in my pocket, all crumpled up.
I walked to our garage, flinging open the door. About five Nightingales sat in there. I've never driven one, my dad wouldn't let me after what happened to my mom. One day she was driving a new Nightingale prototype when something in the engine went wrong. The gas tank exploded, bringing my mother over the void. I was three. I walked into the house again, and Mario was gone. Must have left.
* * *
The next morning, I walked through the house and past Dad's office. He had never let me inside and said it was very messy. I walked back to my room, flopping down on my Queen size bed. My room was filled with electronics. Three plasma-screen TVs covered my walls. My laptop was collecting dust in the corner of the room.
I picked up my phone, dialing my best friend Robert. Robert was American, like me and Dad, but we had a good house here in Siracusa, Italy and being close to our factory, it all worked out.
“Hey Robert, can you come over?” I asked.
“Certo, essere li in dieci,” Robert replied almost instantly. Sure, be there in ten.
I paused, hearing Mr. Knight's words echo in my head: Don't tell anyone or they could die, “Actually, I forgot, I have to go check on the factory with Dad, sorry,” I lied. I hung up before he could ask more.
I walked out into the hall, stopping in front of a mirror hanging on the wall. I was a mess. My brown hair was in a mess of tangles, my nails were dirty and long. I pulled out the crumpled instructions in my pocket, “In your dad's office a scanner can be found on the west wall,” I read aloud. I went to the door and twisted the handle. It was locked up good.
I punched the door, no luck. I kept punching, blood smearing on the door from my now bleeding knuckles. I had taken karate lessons for seven years and finally got to use them. I kicked, and the door collapsed in on itself. I punched my fist up, whopping for joy.
I walked in, my Dad hadn't lied. Paper was on every desk or table. I looked around, seeing a picture of me and my dad on top of a hill together. Tears started to come to my eyes. I rubbed my puffy, red eyes hastily.
I saw a picture on the back wall that looked like a green hand print. I put my hand in the print and a light flashed over my hand. “Benjamin Garjone, welcome to Vault 17,” A robotic voice said, a metallic edge in it's voice. A whir of mechanics opened a gap in the wall.
I stepped through, cautious for anything that could happen. I got to a flight of steps, lit only by an open light every few feet. “My Dad is a multimillionaire and all he can afford is old light bulbs?” I got to the bottom, and spotlights flicked on, aware of my presence.
A sleek, jet black car was sitting in the middle of the cavernous space. I walked over, gaping at the inside of the car. Nightingales 17 was embroidered on the leather seats. The keys were sitting in the ignition. I opened the door, jumping inside.
“Hello Benjamin, and welcome to the Nightingales 17. Tell me where to go and I will drive you there,” The car said, freaking me out, “By the way, you can call me A.C.T.A.B, it stands for Artificially Created Technologically Advanced Being,”
“Umm... OK... hi A.C.T.A.B, can I call you something else, something shorter?” I stammered, “And bring me to this address,” I pulled out the card Nicholas gave me and put it on the dashboard.
“Well, you can call me Edward, I like that human name. Approximate arrival time is 30.24 minutes to Knight Industries,” A huge door opened to reveal a ramp leading upward. We were underneath my house. We sped out, going zero to sixty in about two seconds.
“Edward it is,”
* * *
When we reached our destination, I asked the time, 5:53; right before our time limit.
Nicholas walked out, the color draining from his face. He looked shocked that I found it.
He wasn't the only one.
He stopped next to the car pulling out a paper. He clicked his finger on the window. I scrolled it down, “Benjamin, you seem to have found the 17. Complimenti.” Congratulations. “Drive into my garage and we'll have it prepared for travel.”
I pulled into the garage, fear gripping me in a cold hard touch; I had never driven before. I slowed down, waiting for Nicholas to walk in. I climbed out, turning around to see Nicholas walk in, holding a gun.
“Why the gun?” I asked, puzzled.
“For you,” a cold lump formed in my throat. I dove in the car, slamming the door behind me.
“Sir, are you all right?” Edward asked, no emotion present in his voice.
“Yeah, can you hack Nicholas' computer and find my Dad's coordinates? Delete the file when you find it from Nick's computer.”
“Yes sir, downloading now.”
I dislodged a drawer from the dashboard hoping to find the manual. It was laying at the top of the drawer in big red letters: Operations Manual. “Protection, protection,” I repeated, flipping through the book. I eventually found it. “The Nightingales 17 has bulletproof windows, plating, and tires. For a self defense weapon, lift the center armrest and click the third button on the top row. You will receive a .20 caliber handgun,” I read aloud.
When I pressed the button, the gun slid up, clip loaded underneath. I figured the manual didn't lie when it said the car was bulletproof; Nicholas shot a whole seven bullets into the windows, they didn't even crack.
“Download complete, ready when you are, Benjamin,” Edward said, showing: Download 100% on the dashboard. I pushed down the pedal, speeding out like a cheetah after a meal. I stopped outside for a split-second, yelling, “Hey Nick, your aim sucks!” In my wake, black skid marks were burned into the pavement.
I learned something very important today; I had made a very rich, powerful enemy.
When we pulled up to my house, Edward sped through the grass towards the back, “Edward! What are you doing?” I screamed.
“Getting the car into the vault, we can't keep it in the garage,” Edward replied, driving down the ramp for the vault. I got out when the car parked slowly, trying not to make a sound.
I bounded up the steps, going straight to my dad's room. I sat down on the bed, pulling out an old picture album of me and my dad. I saw pictures of me and my dad by the first Nightingale. My mom was in a couple too.
Something caught my eye. An object that looked like a sheath was hanging on the wall. I got up, walking over. On the right of the sheath, a silver hilt seemed to be jutting out. I pulled it out, half expecting an alarm to go off.
A five-inch knife extended out of the sheath. I started to swing it around, “Yeah know, that was your dad's best hunting knife. Whenever he had it, he killed something,” I jumped around, putting the knife to his throat, “Whoa tiger, what's wrong with this picture?”
“I'm about to cut your throat with a hunting knife,” We both started to howl with laughter.
Then I got serious.
“Mario, can I tell you something that could get you killed?” I asked hesitantly.
“Umm, yeah, sure whatever,” He replied, no fear in his voice.
I told him everything, even up to Nicholas trying to shoot me. He listened to me, his gaze locked on me like a clamp on wood. He didn't ask any questions and just let me talk.
“OK, well you have a dilemma, and I know just what to do. I graduated from MIT back in America and I could fix your car for you,”
“Perfect!” I screamed, putting away the knife.
“By the way,” he said while I put away the knife, “Your dad would want you to have that to defend yourself, just in case,”
“Good idea Mario,” I said, pulling down the sheath. I strapped it to my belt, “Follow me to the vault.”
We walked down, and Mario gasped.
“Edward, start up protocol 728-JU!” I yelled across the room.
“Hello Ben, who is that?”
“Mario, our butler. Mario, say hi to A.C.T.A.B.”
“Hi A.C.T.A.B,” He paused, “what does that stand for?”
“Mario, A.C.T.A.B. stands for Artificially Created Technologically Advanced Being, but just call me Edward,”
“OK, good to know Edward,” He ran over, looking over the inside, outside, and underside of the car.
“Hey Mario here is the car, can you make him any better?”
“I'll try my best,” He found a tool kit against the wall and started to work.
* * *
I drove out of the garage, cautious of any neighbors looking around. Edward pulled out, speeding onto the worn out brick road. We drove slowly, gaining speed gradually. I saw an envelope with my name on it written sloppily. Mario.
“Edward, you drive for a little bit,” I grabbed the envelope and slitted it open. I pulled out the note and my eyes had to be lying to me because it said:
Dearest Benjamin,
I have finished working on Edward as you can probably tell and I would like to update you on some of his newer features. Edward has had a few cylinders added to his engine so his top velocity is now 250 miles per hour instead of 200. If the blue button on the steering wheel is pressed A.C.T.A.B. will have a single belt-loaded machine gun emerge out of the right headlight. A push of the orange button (also on the steering wheel) will launch a single heat-seeking rocket towards a self-found target. An ejector seat may be activated by simply pressing the brake down completely four times. Of all the new features, this next one is my favorite feature: if A.C.T.A.B. ever needed to go underwater a two-hour oxygen supply is loaded in the undercarriage of the car. Also, a propeller will be used for propulsion. Use the command “Deep Down” to activate.
Best Regards,
Mario Antwoint
P.S.- Edward is now solar-powered; panels can be activated by a press of the green button on the dash.
“Wow Edward, rockets, more speed, and you can drive underwater!” I exclaimed.
“Yes sir, those are some of my new features,” My chrome-plated partner replied.
“Dude, let's see what this new engine can do,”
“Perfect,”
My head slammed back as he floored the engine, and I whooped as we gained speed; 75, 100, 125, 175, 225, 250. The G-forces were pushing me back, but I didn't care, this was the best experience I had ever had.
We slowed gently to a stop and I knew what was next, Dad. I switched back controls to me and drove calmly back to the house in silence.
I jumped out of the car and bound up the steps, cornering Mario. I had something to ask him on my mind.
“Mario, this is important, more important than anything else I've asked you to do. When I leave, if anyone calls, I am on a business trip with Dad and won't be back for a while. The GPS built into Edward will help me get to Dad, other than that,” I thought for a second, “there doesn't seem to be anything else. Thanks Mario, for everything.” I stepped forward and hugged him and he hugged me back. I leaned back, one last thing to say, “And one last thing, Nicholas Knight will pay for this, questo lo giuro,” This I swear.
“OK, I will, and here, take this, it used to be mine,” he thrusted a package into my arms. Inside I found a Browning pistol loaded and some extra clips with it.
“Thanks,” I spun around and walked to the vault door. I stopped, one more thing on my mind, “Mario, would you like to come with me and help?”
“Benjamin Garjone, this is your adventure. My job is to stay here and protect the house. This is your mission. And before you ask again, there is nothing wrong with this. This is how your Dad would have wanted it.”
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