Joe's newly weightless arms rocketed up as the floor disappeared beneath him. His hand connected with the person's next to him and he grasped it in terror.
Shouts of alarm turned into low grunts as the elevator quickly slowed down. The passengers landed with enough force to drive the air out of their lungs but not enough to injure them. They collapsed into a jumble of arms and legs. The alarm stopped and the elevator reverted to its normal lighting. Joe continued to hold onto the hand. He slowly stood and realized his fingers were interlaced with Callie's. He looked over and saw Frank staring daggers at him. He helped Callie to her feet and let go, pretending to busy himself with brushing off his pants.
"What is the meaning of this?" Agent Klein bellowed.
The Swifts wore matching looks of confusion and deep thought.
"The maglev rails must have temporarily lost power," the younger one said, wincing in pain. That fall couldn't have felt good on his injured leg.
"The emergency backups shouldn't have allowed a freefall, even a temporary one," the father added, rubbing his chin.
The doors opened and everyone quickly stepped out onto the safer ground of the gray carpeted hallway.
Frank grabbed Joe's arm. "What was that about?" he hissed.
Joe tried to shake free without causing a scene. "She was just standing next to me when we fell, chill out."
"Yeah, I saw you squeeze in there next to her."
"Maybe she just wanted to stand next to a real man for a change."
Their whispered fight was silently broken up as Fenton walked between them. He gave each of them a frown that made them feel six years old again.
"My office is this way," Tom Swift Sr. gestured with an open hand down the hallway.
Harlan and Rob quickly trotted to the double doors, each holding one open as the rest of the group filed into the large office.
Joe let out a low whistle as he took in the opulent décor. One wall was a seamless piece of glass looking out over the colorful buildings of the campus and the gorgeous landscape beyond. The rest of the room was a mixture of expensive furniture, models of various Swift products both retro and futuristic, and large high-resolution displays.
"You ever thought of switching professions?" Joe whispered to his father.
Fenton chuckled good-naturedly. "All the time."
Frank was not in as good of a mood. He glared daggers at Joe. Joe turned to his left to avoid Frank's gaze and accidentally locked eyes with Callie. He frantically turned to look toward the safe target of Tom Swift Sr. walking behind his desk.
Harlan and the robot grabbed chairs that were sitting around a conference table on one end of the room and distributed them around the desk before standing behind the CEO.
"Have a seat," the CEO said as he sank into the weirdest-looking office chair Joe had ever seen. It was a combination of webbing and wrinkled panels arranged in a seemingly random pattern. The chair emitted a soft thwump as the webbing and panels instantly formed to the man's body and held him in a relaxed but ergonomic posture.
"I'd prefer to stand," Agent Klein said tersely. "I don't want a chair to malfunction and shoot a metal rod somewhere it doesn't belong."
"Yeah, it would probably break the stick that's already up there," Callie muttered under her breath.
Joe was unable to prevent a chortle, but he was able to quickly turn it into a cough. Fenton remained professional, but a small smile teased at the corners of his eyes. Joe's right eye spasmed as it felt the heat of Frank's stare, but Joe ignored him.
Joe sat down as did the rest of the team except for Agent Klein. The chairs were extremely comfortable but not as customized as Tom Swift Sr.'s.
The two groups stared at each other across the desk. Joe marveled at its sheer size; it was massive but seemed to be made from a single piece of hardwood.
Did they cut down a whole redwood forest to make this beast? he wondered.
"I want to again thank you for-" Tom Swift Sr.'s introduction was cut off as Agent Klein raised his hand.
"Let's not waste any more time," Klein said. "We all know why we're here. Swift Enterprises is either suffering from a severe security deficit or from internal corruption."
Joe watched as a large purple vein began throbbing on Harlan Ames's forehead. The security chief twitched as though he was about to vault the desk and physically attack Klein.
"With all due respect Agent Klein," Tom Swift Sr. said in an impressively diplomatic tone. "I believe this audit is being conducted by Mr. Hardy."
"Agent Klein is very zealous in defense of his country," Fenton said with a chuckle, easily defusing the tension that had built up in the room. "I'd like to start by reintroducing my team. I believe you've all met me, Fenton Hardy. These two strapping lads are my sons."
Frank and Joe both performed a quick wave.
"Don't worry, they look young, but they've actually been helping me out for a while. Agent Klein is our point of contact with the government.
Fenton turned to indicate the short Asian man in his late 20s. "David Park is our IT man."
David nodded.
Fenton leaned and pointed at Callie. "Callie Webling here is our . . ." he paused. "I know I'm not supposed to say secretary. Are you our scribe?"
Callie smiled. "Clerical assistant."
Fenton snapped his fingers in frustration. "Clerical assistant, I knew that. Sorry."
Callie grinned at Fenton's discomfort. "It's okay."
"It's nice to meet you," Tom Swift Jr. said.
"Likewise," Fenton responded. "We've heard a lot about you. You have some very impressive achievements for someone your age."
"Are we done patting each other on the back?" Agent Klein could hold his tongue no longer. "We have some very serious business to discuss."
Fenton reached into his suit and pulled out an envelope from an inside pocket. He removed several folded pieces of paper.
He printed it out. What a boomer. Joe thought.
"I realize this is a little low-tech for around here," Fenton said as he pulled reading glasses out from another pocket.
Joe grimaced. And he brought his glasses. Dad is so old.
"I understand completely." Tom Swift Sr. said. "In this day and age, it's probably the most secure way to transport information."
Fenton slid the papers across the desk. "What can you tell me about these prototypes?"
Tom Swift Sr. picked up the paper and studied it intently. Harlan and Tom Swift Jr. peered at it over his shoulder.
"They don't seem to have much in common," Tom Swift Sr. said as he squinted at the list. "They're all from different divisions of the company."
"They're also at different stages of development," Harlan added. "Some of these are nearing production, others are in alpha testing, and some of these were terminated."
"The only thing that they have in common is, obviously, that they have some sort of military application." Tom Swift Jr. said as he finished reading and stood back up. He set his crutches to the side and leaned against the glass window in thought.
"That's going to make it difficult to determine where we should start our security audit." Fenton admitted.
"You can start with our physical access controls." Harlan offered. "You already got a glimpse of them when you came it, but I can show you how we regulate entrance to the grounds themselves as well as the facilities."
"That's a great idea, but it sounds like a lot of walking for someone with joints as old as mine," Fenton responded. "Why don't you have someone you trust take Frank and Joe around to show them the security barriers?"
"I can do that," Tom Swift Jr. volunteered. "I need to get used to these crutches."
Joe and Frank nodded at him.
Fenton continued. "David would love to learn more about your network and how that operates."
"Dennis Irons is in charge of network security and data breach prevention." Harlan explained. "He's been with the company for several decades. I trust him completely."
Agent Klein snorted. "So the cybersecurity chief is old enough to retire, I think I just found the first problem."
Everyone had learned to ignore him by this point.
"That leaves Agent Klein, myself, and my clerical assistant. Why don't we go with you Harlan and review your security policies and procedures. How does that sound?"
Tom Swift Sr. opened his mouth to respond but, before he could answer, the room was filled with a short buzzing noise. Without warning, the glass wall that Tom Swift Jr. was leaning against instantly shattered into a million pieces. Terror filled his eyes. His arms windmilled around for balance, but it was no use. He teetered backward and plunged toward the concrete a hundred feet below.