Free The Twin Powers by Robert Lipsyte Page A

always darkest before the dawn.
Now, that was a needlepoint for you!
    There was a knock on the door. Before I could say, “Come in,” the door banged open. The woman in the dark suit marched in, slammed the door behind her, and sat down in one of the wooden chairs.
    â€œSit down,” she said.
    I kept standing. I didn’t feel so small and weak when I was taller than her.
    â€œWhatever. I’m Agent Mathison and you are in big trouble, young lady.”
    I sat down.
    â€œHere’s the deal. We know everything. Your pal Todd just spilled his guts, which confirmed what we already knew. He won’t be prosecuted. But you will be prosecuted and so will your parents. Prison time. Unless you cooperate.”
    â€œHow?”
    â€œTell us what you know.”
    â€œAbout what?”
    â€œAbout Tom.”
    â€œWhat about him?” I felt confused. Tom as Tom, or Tom as Eddie, or Eddie pretending to be Tom? I almost asked Agent Mathison, then bit my tongue to shut myself up. Just what was it Agent Mathison knew?
    â€œWhen did you first meet Tom?”
    Be cool. Tell the truth as much you can.
“Last year when he started Nearmont Middle School. We were both in orchestra. I played cello and he—”
    â€œWho had the idea of Tech Off! Day?”
    It had been Eddie being Tom, I thought, but something warned me against saying too much right away. I didn’t believe that “Todd just spilled his guts.” That wasn’t Britzky. “It was Tom’s idea. He thought people really needed to talk to one another face to—”
    â€œWhat about the voices?”
    I went into dumb mode. It worked with Mom and Dad when they interrogated me. “Voices?” I thought she was talking about the voices Tom hears, which he had thought were imaginary but now knew belong to Eddie and to aliens, like his dad and Dr. Traum.
    â€œTelling him what to do.”
    â€œTom never lets people tell him what to do.”
    â€œYou think you can play dumb with me, young lady?” Agent Mathison was scowling.
    â€œIs Tom in trouble?”
    â€œWorry about yourself. You’re the one in trouble for withholding information from a federal officer.”
    â€œLike FBI?”
    â€œFBI takes orders from us.”
    â€œI haven’t really seen much of Tom lately.” That was true. True was good when you were playing cat and mouse. “He’s, like, off the wagon a lot.”
    â€œWhere does he go?”
    â€œI don’t know. Erin says he’s getting ready for his interviews.”
    â€œI’m losing patience. What about the aliens?”
    â€œYou mean like illegal . . .”
    â€œNow I’m getting angry.”
    â€œAliens from other planets?” I made the face Mom hates, the gimme-a-break face.
    â€œDon’t play with me.”
    I wondered how much Agent Mathison knew about the aliens. Obviously, she didn’t know Tom was a half alien or a twin. Had to keep it that way. What about Britzky? If he spilled his guts and I didn’t
. . .
    â€œDo you think Tom is crazy?” said Agent Mathison.
    â€œNo. Why?”
    â€œWe know about the voices he hears. And talks to. We think you know about them.”
    â€œI don’t.” I tried to put a lot of sincerity into my voice. Probably a mistake when you’re lying.
    Agent Mathison stood up. “I’ll let you think about it. I hope you’re not hungry.”
    She marched out. As I heard the door lock, I realized I was very hungry.

Twenty-three
    BRITZKY
    SOMEWHERE IN NORTHERN VIRGINIA
    2012
    Â 
    T HE room had a narrow bed, two wooden chairs, and a chest of drawers. No window. There were needlepoints on the wall. THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME and MY HOUSE IS YOUR HOUSE.
    Pretty obvious attempt at a psych-out, I thought. Trying to make me lonely and afraid. They didn’t know who they were dealing with. I jammed a chair under the doorknob. I thought about