Unknown 9 by Layton Green (e reader txt) 📗

the room, brought to life in augmented reality. Her inebriated state and the three-dimensional zoom induced a bout of nausea. She stumbled, and Cal slipped an arm around her waist. With a grimace, she gripped his arm and held on, watching as each letter of her name spun wildly in place like a slot machine. One by one, the letters stopped spinning to form a nine-digit alphanumeric sequence, along with the same images in the top corners that had appeared with each new cipher: the black-hole atom and the LYS symbol.

After committing the sequence to memory, Andie pocketed the device as Cal steadied her from behind. “You okay there?”

She turned and draped her arms around his neck. They were standing right next to the bar, alone in a crowd of people. “I saw it,” she said, in a breathless whisper. “We’ve got the next code!”

“Boom,” he said, pulling her in tighter. “A step ahead of those bastards.”

They were so close their mouths were almost touching. She could feel the warmth of his breath, and reached up to run a hand through his hair. Before he could kiss her, she placed a finger between their lips, gently, and met his gaze. “I have to know what it is,” she said. “The next image.”

He cocked a disbelieving grin and pulled back. “Right now?”

“Right now. Come on.”

She took his hand and led him back to the table. After signaling to the waiter for another round, he scooted his chair next to hers as she input the new nine-digit sequence into the Star Phone. The code locked into place, and the lanterns of Hoi An dissolved, replaced by a sandstone disk filling the middle of the screen. The face of the disk was covered with concentric rings of engravings that looked Amerindian in nature.

Four smaller images in the corners of the screen accompanied the sandstone disk. She studied them, clockwise from top left: an eagle crowned with a bright-green Native American headdress, clutching a globe in its talons; a small circle inside a larger one, attached at a single point on the right curve of both shapes; a map of Mexico; and a map of what she thought was Central America.

“How bizarre,” she said. “I should research these.”

He gently cupped her chin. “Andie. It’s two in the morning. You almost passed out a minute ago. You’ll make mistakes if you try to work right now.” When she hesitated, he brushed a strand of hair from her eyes and gave her a meaningful glance. “Finish your drink, and let’s go up. It’s late.”

Andie looked from Cal to the Star Phone, chewing on her bottom lip. His hand was on her knee now, and she found that she didn’t want him to move it. When she tried to study the Star Phone, the image was a little blurry, and she realized she was in no condition for serious research.

“Okay,” she said, then downed her margarita in three long swallows. How many have I had? Six? Seven?

He followed suit, knocking back his beer on the way out of the bar. They passed through the lobby, laughing as they used each other for support to climb the stairs to their third-floor room. Another dizzy spell overcame her as she fumbled with the old-fashioned dead bolt. Cal bent down to take the key, and she put a hand on the wall to steady herself.

“Carry me,” she said after he opened the door.

He picked her up with ease and kicked the door closed with a foot. She draped her arms around his neck and nuzzled on his ear as he carried her through the room and set her on the bed. She pulled him down, enjoying his weight on top of her. They were about to kiss when he leaned back and propped himself up with an elbow.

“Don’t go,” she whispered.

“Nature calls. Be right back. Don’t, you know, run off to another country or anything.”

She trailed a finger across his cheek as he eased off of her. After the bathroom door closed behind him, her eyelids seemed to lower of their own volition, and that was the last thing she remembered.

A ray of daylight peeked through the blinds of the room like a curious child. Andie groaned and rolled over in bed. Her head was throbbing, her throat as dry as the Sahara.

She stumbled to the minibar, pulled out a fresh bottle, and drank the entire contents. The cool water sliding down her throat was nirvana. She started to return to bed when the memory of the night before rushed over her.

Getting filthy drunk. Seeing a photo of her mother on the wall. Finding the andromeda license plate and the next Star Phone clue.

Almost going to bed with Cal.

Mortified by how intoxicated she had been—though not as upset at what had almost happened as she thought she would have been—she looked down and saw that she was still fully dressed.

Nor was Cal in her bed. After studying his sleeping form for a long moment, fully clothed and lying on top of the covers in his own bed, she prodded him gently. He stirred but never woke, and she resisted the urge to crawl in beside him. Instead, acutely aware of the passage of time and how much danger they were in, she made a cup of coffee and started researching.

Four hours later, she thought she had an answer.

“Already?” Cal said. He was sitting across from her at the café next door to the hotel.

Andie flashed a grim, satisfied smile. After Cal had finally woken up, she had hinted at her discovery, and suggested they grab a bite to eat and talk it over.

A converted tube house, the café had four narrow stories dotted with seating nooks accented by potted plants and bamboo screens. They had the fourth floor to themselves and had chosen a low wooden table flanked by benches strewn with cushions. Behind them, a set of French doors opened onto a balcony. The building