Tyler ordered carryout and, while we waited, Sara got out her camera gear and in
Tyler ordered carryout and, while we waited, Sara got out her camera gear and interviewed Ian and Jason, firing questions at them about the government’s approach to national security. Then the food came and everyone chattered while we ate, except for me. I was too busy thinking about what to do.
They thought I was too young. Fine. I’d have to do it myself. I tuned out their voices and pretended to be completely focused on eating as I thought about how to finish the job that the FBI wouldn’t let Nikko do. I had developed a rough plan by the time Ian said he had to get ready for his talk.
“I’d like to film it,” Sara said to Ian. “You don’t mind?”
“I’d be honored.”
“Do either of you have experience with film editing?” Sara asked, glancing from Nikko to me.
“Nikko does.”
“Just little animations,” he said, getting red in the face again.
“Awesome animations,” I said.
“I’ll need an assistant tonight. Could run late. Would you be up for it?”
He shrugged, aiming for nonchalance, but failing. “Sure, no problem.”
“How can we get these young people into the audience?” Sara asked.
“I have extra exhibitor passes,” Jason said.
“Nikko, I need you to take notes about what parts of Ian’s talk are most striking, the bits you think belong in the blitzdoc we’ll be making tonight. Zen, I assume you want to hear the talk, too?”
“I’d like to, but there will be Homeland Security types in the audience. I’d better not.”
She clapped her hands “Disguises! I love disguises.” She had her luggage with her, and pulled out some clothes that were totally unlike what I usually wear, being more grown-up and sophisticated and no doubt way more expensive than anything I’d ever worn. She spent fifteen minutes fooling around with my hair, combing and curling and muttering “Love your hair, girl,” which I didn’t really believe, but when she was finished I kind of loved it myself. She put makeup on me, too, which I have never been able to do myself without looking like a clown. It tickled, but it looked good when I opened my eyes. We topped it off with a chunky necklace, bangles on my wrists, and a pair of reading glasses. I couldn’t see through them without everything going blurry, but when I wore them down on my nose, I looked intellectual. Better yet, I didn’t look like myself.
Nikko joked about wearing an Anonymous Guy Fawkes mask, but he just put on a T-shirt advertising Jason’s company, used some of Tyler’s hair gel, donned a spare pare of hipster glasses, and changed the way he walked and held his shoulders. Somehow that made him look like a completely different person.
As Nikko demonstrated his geek look, I picked up the spy-camera shirt he’d thrown on a couch and folded it neatly. When nobody was looking, I slipped it into my backpack.
At least, I thought nobody was looking. As we went downstairs and mingled with the crowd entering the auditorium, I felt a poke in the back. It was Zeke, grinning evilly. “I saw what you did,” he whispered.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”