Ice Shock by M. G. Harris Page B

solidly for months. “He’s been looking very old lately,” Montoyo admits. “And he seems lonely, like never before. Can’t remember seeing so much of him.”
    â€œI have a bit of a confession to make,” I begin. Then I explain about discovering that Dad might have been in Saffron Walden on June 16, and about our escapade to the archaeologist’s house the other night. When I come to the part where Simon Madison saw us, I sense Montoyo growing wary. When I admit that the pages of the Ix Codex were taken from my bedroom (I don’t mention the kissing), there’s a long silence that crackles with tension.
    Finally, in a dry whisper, he says, “You’re telling me that you let Madison get his hands on pages from the Ix Codex?”
    I can’t help cringing. “I tried to stop it …”
    His voice sounds hollow with dismay. “Josh—how do you think he came to be at the Thompson house the same night as you? He must be having you observed. He could only know about it because of you.”
    Miserably, I tell Montoyo my theory about Ollie. He doesn’t seem all that surprised. Instead, he breathes a long sigh.
    â€œ
Dios mio
. I was afraid of something like this.”
    â€œYou knew someone was watching me?”
    Montoyo practically growls. “Of course not, Josh! What I mean is this: it was perhaps inevitable that you’d try to get involved on your own account. As I suggested, we would have been wise to keep you in Ek Naab. The plans for the 2012 problem are well under way. This is the safest place for you. With what you know, you should not be in the outside world, meddling.”
    â€œI wasn’t ‘meddling.’ I was trying to find out what happened to my dad!”
    Montoyo lets rip with an impatient yell. “We don’t know what happened to him! It’s possible we never will! And look what you’ve done in the process!”
    Now I’m angry. After all I did to help them, Montoyo has done nothing to help me find the one truth I really care about.
    â€œI’m going to send someone to pick you up,” he snaps. “Where is a good place?”
    â€œI’m not going to live in Ek Naab.”
    â€œJosh, listen to me. Do you realize what’s in those first three pages? Enough information for Madison’s group to control part of the 2012 technology.”
    My heart sinks. It’s true, then; Madison’s stolen artifact is one of the things written about in the Ix Codex.
    â€œThey
have
the Adapter,” Montoyo continues, exasperated. “They can
make
the Key.”
    â€œThe Adapter is what he stole from that guy in Lebanon?”
    Montoyo sighs. “We think so. We were negotiating with a private collector—Abdul-Quddus. He bought it from the Baghdad National Museum after the start of the Iraq War. But as you know from that news story, Madison took it.”
    â€œDamn … ,” I say. “That is
not
ideal.”
    â€œNot ideal?” Montoyo repeats, annoyed again. “Of course it’s not! Listen, Josh. I’m looking at a map of Oxford. There’s a big meadow near your home. Port Meadow. A river runs through it. Be by the river at four tomorrow morning. Okay?”
    I hesitate. “Where on the river?”
    â€œDon’t worry. When we get close enough, we can locate the phone. Just make sure it’s on you—and turned on!”
    â€œI’m not saying I’ll be there. Let me think about it.”
    â€œ
Hijo que te pasa
… what’s wrong with you? I’m giving you an order! You
will
be there.”
BLOG ENTRY: PLAN A

    So, Mom. I’m going to take one last shot at sorting things out. I’ve made a mess of everything, but it’s not too late to fix it .
    I’m going to Ollie’s. All lovey-dovey. I’ll work out a way to distract her, then I’ll find the pages they stole from me and destroy them .
    I know it’s a