Counterattack by Sigmund Brouwer Page B

driver?” I asked.
    â€œNo,” Whistler answered. “Should there be?”
    â€œYou’re back here and …” I’d never been in a truck before, but even I knew that someone should be at the steering wheel.
    â€œMag-strips,” Whistler said.
    â€œMag-strips?”
    â€œYou from another planet, kid?” Whistler joked.
    Here we go again, I thought.
    â€œEveryone knows how mag-strips work,” Whistler continued.
    â€œGo easy on him, Whistler,” Nate said quickly. “He asks crazy questions, but I know he’s not stupid.” Then he turned to me. “All the interstate highways have mag-strips embedded every five feet in the pavement. They read computer sensors in the truck’s axles. Between GPS and the main computer at the trucking company’s head office, the trucks are guided at the right speed the right distance apart.”
    â€œThis truck can be tracked anywhere it goes?”
    â€œTracked and guided. But only on the interstate highways. The drivers are needed for when the trucks have to exit and head into the cities.”
    â€œYeah,” Whistler announced, “it’s a great job for long-haul drivers. Once we get our rigs from the city streets or the truck stops onto the highway, we can kick back and relax.”
    He jerked his thumb toward the rear of our trailer. “Except for the Combat Force drivers we left back at the truck stop. They’re under such tight computer supervision, they can’t even blink without some commander knowing it. Which is a waste, considering they always travel in a pack of 10 trucks. What’s one of the drivers going to do? Peel off and try to drive away from the escort trucks? Not even a payload of tantalum is worth that kind of risk.”
    â€œTantalum?” I echoed.
    â€œThis kid is from Mars, isn’t he?” Whistler joked to Nate. “Tantalum. The miracle metal they’ve been mining from the moon. Those trucks you saw back there? All of them came from the Everglades space base. That’s where the shuttles land with tantalum from the Earth-Moon orbits.” He paused. “Where exactly are you guys from? All Nate told me was he needed to get you out of this area.”
    â€œMore important than where they’re from,” Nate interrupted, “is for me to know where they’re going. Which is something they refused to tell me until we made it out of the Everglades. Now would be as good a time as any, Tyce.”
    â€œNot so fast,” I said. “When can we get to the nearest library?”

CHAPTER 15
    After about four hours on the interstate, we stopped at a motel just off the road.
    Whistler rented a room near the back of the motel and parked his truck in such a way that passersby couldn’t see inside the trailer as he opened the back doors. During our time on the highway, Nate had given us a couple of reasons why we should stop, and Ashley and I saw no reason to disagree.
    Especially for reason number one.
    Showers! After a couple of days in prison and our time in the Everglades, we needed it.
    Nate carried me into the room. Ashley followed. She went into the bathroom first while Nate and I waited in the outer room and watched television. Then my turn.
    I loved it. Whistler had made sure to rent a room that would accommodate my needs from a wheelchair. It was the first shower I’d ever been able to take without worrying how much water I was using. On Mars, water was far too scarce, so we were allowed showers only twice a month. The rest of the time we used an evaporating gel as soap.
    Here, under the hot water that streamed down like it would never end, I couldn’t believe that people on Earth had a luxury like this any day they wanted. I finally finished when I heard banging on the bathroom door.
    Then Nate’s turn. He went in with his duffel bag while Ashley and I flipped channels. We’d never actually used a television before—she