One (24 page)

The pizza went into the oven a few minutes later. By then, my heartbeat had almost returned to normal. I glanced at the clock, then quickly set the table

“I’m home,” Mom called, as if on cue. Her keys rattled on the hall table as she dropped them and she let out a sigh as she slipped out of her shoes.

“Dinner ready yet? I’m starving,” she said, coming into the kitchen and snapping on the TV. “It smells wonderful.”

“New sauce. Hopefully we like it.” I chewed the inside of my lip. I should say something now. Before she got distracted.

She kissed me on the cheek and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. “I’m sure it’ll be delicious. What did you do today?”

I shrugged and pulled out the big salad bowl full of lettuce and put it down on the counter. Deep breaths. Play it cool. Get her into our normal routine, then slip in the possible brain tumor.

“Not much. Finished a book. Watched some TV. Pretty typical summer vacation stuff.” I grabbed a knife out of the drawer. “Want tomatoes?”

She nodded. “Sounds like a good day. Hey, Leslie at work said that new sci-fi film is really good. Want to go to the movies this weekend?”

“The one about the robots? That would be cool.” I pulled another tomato from the bowl and started chopping. “Hey, will you pour me a glass of milk?”

Mom nodded and poured two glasses. The soft murmur of voices on the TV filled the house. “Bad news from government facility Los Alamos today. Hackers broke into a classified server and downloaded a terabyte of top-secret military plans. An explosion rocked the facility, killing three…”

Crash.

One of the glasses shattered on the floor, but Mom stared at the television, her face as white as the spilled milk.

“Mom?” I set the knife down on the cutting board as my heart jumped. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

She shook her head and held up a finger. My skin prickled as I turned to the TV and watched as smoke billowed from a squat, nondescript building in the middle of the desert. A piece of paper fluttered against the wall and the camera zoomed into show some sort of logo. A rifle and a microscope crossed like an X on a field of pale blue.

“Until the culprits are found and the records retrieved, the government is treating this as a matter of national security.” The news anchor turned the next story over to his co-host and Mom stepped through the puddle of milk and turned the TV off.

Her hand trembled.

“What’s going on?” I asked. She looked like she had in the mall last week. Like she was going to be sick.

Mom shook her head. “Will you take care of the mess? I need to call your father.”

My jaw dropped open. “Dad? Why?” I couldn’t remember a single time in the last ten years when she’d actually chosen to call him. Now she’d talked to him twice in one week.

“Lexie, please. I’ll be back in a minute. Just clean up this mess.” She grabbed her cell phone off the counter, rubbing the back of her neck as she left the room.

I did a few quick swipes with a handful of paper towels, dumped them in the garbage under the sink, and then tiptoed down the hall to the living room. I pressed myself against the wall so I could peek inside.

“William, I just saw the news. What did they get from Los Alamos? That really was Grant at the mall, wasn’t it?” Mom paced between the couch and the window, her cell phone pressed to her ear. She moved stiffly, like all her muscles had tensed.

Almost a minute elapsed as my dad spoke. My chest tightened as I waited for her answer.

“Three days? That’s it?” She let out a soft sigh. “I understand. I wish it hadn’t come to this, but we’ve been lucky for the last few years.” Another pause. “I miss you, too. We’ll see you soon.” She clicked the cell phone off and then dropped it on the coffee table with a clatter before burying her head in her hands.

My stomach hit the floor. Miss him? Mom could barely stand the guy. I leaned back against the wall and took a shaky breath. She needed to tell me what was going on. Now.

A moment later, Mom sighed and marched out of the living room, spotting me in the hallway. Her gaze narrowed. “What did you hear?”

I pressed my palms against the cool wall and tried not to lose it. “Enough to be completely freaked out. What is going on?”

“We’re going to take a trip to visit your dad this weekend. How about you start packing?”

I shook my head. “Uh-uh. You’re not getting out of it that easily.” Panic twisted my stomach into one big knot. Mom and I were close. I told her everything. And I’d thought until last week she did the same with me.

Her brown eyes were full of worry, but she put on her best everything’s-okay-voice. “Nothing to worry about, but your Dad needs to see you about your ADHD meds. The clinical trial is almost up and they need to finish collecting data on you.”

I blinked. “Why didn’t he tell me that when we talked last week? And what does that have to do with the news?”

“Nothing at all. Just jolted my memory. Besides, it’s been a while since you’ve you’re your dad. He’s been talking about you coming to visit. Now’s a good time before school starts.”

That was the last thing I wanted. I shook my head. Anger shot through me. I was tired of the lies from both of them. “I’m not going to Tennessee. I’m not doing anything until you tell me what’s going on. Now.”

“Watch your tone, young lady.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at her. I hadn’t even gotten started with the attitude. I could do this all night if I had to.

And Mom knew it. She threw her hands up. “I can’t talk to you rationally when you’re like this. I need to go make a few calls. And since you can’t be trusted not to eavesdrop, I’m going to my room. Go ahead and eat without me.” She turned and walked away down the hall.

I stared after her. Hurt and fear fought to take hold and my arms slid down to wrap around my waist. I could count on one hand the number of times Mom and I had seriously fought. But this was different. I’d never seen her like this before.

She was scared.

*~*

I shoved the last of my clothes into my suitcase and glanced around my bedroom to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. My mini telescope and my Albert Einstein action figure were neatly positioned beside the T.A.R.D.I.S cookie jar I’d gotten for my last birthday, and the dust that had covered my bookshelf since I’d gotten my tablet was gone. Mom had made me clean while we were packing, so there was a distinct lack of Lexie-mess in the room. She’d even insisted I box up some of my other books and knick-knacks while I was at it. A weird, forced spring clean in the middle of August.

“Almost done?” Mom asked, leaning against the door. “Did you make sure to pack those extra clothes and books?”

“Yep. I have a full suitcase, an entire box of stuff, my diary from third grade, and the kitchen sink. Seems a little overkill for a weekend visit.” I arched an eyebrow at her, but she shook her head, her eyes still shadowed and haunted. I knew I was being melodramatic, but I’d tried arguing, begging, pleading and tricking her into telling me what was going on, and Mom’d remained tight lipped.

We were on the road an hour later. Mom’s Buick sedan was old but comfortable, and the passenger seat cushioned me as I watched the flat Ohio countryside slowly give way to the green hills of Kentucky. She drove with her lips pressed together, only the soft murmur of the radio to break the silence between us. The silence that had seemed to fill all the space between us since that little incident with the gun.

My fingers drummed against my knee in time to the whirr of the tires on pavement. I’d never visited Dad in Tennessee before. He’d always come to us. First in Washington when I was little, then in Ohio when we moved here three years ago. Every time it got more and more uncomfortable.

I couldn’t
wait
to deal with the awkward silence this time as we danced around the fact that we barely knew each other.

I watched a pair of horses chase each other across a pasture. The soft hills of Kentucky grew into the Appalachian Mountains, their peaks lavender gray in the distance as we approached Oak Ridge, Tennessee.

The Secret City.

I’d done my homework, of course. As soon as Mom had let the name slip about where Dad was working, I’d dug around the internet and found Oak Ridge was one of the sites of the Manhattan Project, the World War II effort that produced the first atomic bomb. It had been a secret, government-run town until 1959. And then Quantum Technologies, the company Dad worked for, had taken over the former government buildings and science facilities, as well as added buildings of their own. Once, the whole town had worked for the US Government, now most of them worked for QT.

The car slowed as we pulled into town. Gas stations and fast food restaurants lined the wide street, giving way to a several small strip malls and a grocery store. It all looked perfectly normal.

And then we drove into the downtown area.

A large yellow sign reading “Welcome to Oak Ridge” greeted us, bearing the symbol of an atom surrounded by ellipses. A few kids on skateboards hung around the main square park, doing kick flips and ollies on the stairs. I watched one try to nail a landing, but he slipped instead. I sucked in my breath, thinking for sure he’d land on his butt. But the board flipped on its own at the last minute, a tiny jet of fire moving it to land beneath the kid’s feet.

I gasped. It was a freaking hover board!

A thrill of excitement made my skin prickle with goose bumps. Maybe Quantum Technologies wasn’t just a research facility. Maybe this whole trip wouldn’t be completely wasted. If I could bring one of those back with me to school...

Mom stopped at the light in the middle of the downtown area and I scanned the rest of the street. A young couple picnicked under one of the large oak trees, while across the green, a kid was playing catch with her golden retriever. I smiled as the dog leaped and bounded after the ball.

And then ran right through a big blue mailbox like it wasn’t there, catching the ball on the other side. The dog’s plumed tail wagged frantically as it trotted back to the little girl. Through the mailbox again.

I pressed a hand to my eyes. No. Not possible. I looked again and the image of the dog flickered briefly, pixelating before it snapped back together.

Oh my god. A hologram.

“Mom?” My voice was barely a whisper.

“Yes, dear?” her eyes stayed focused on the line of slow moving traffic through town, but a muscle jumped in her jaw.

“What is this place?” my voice quivered and she looked up with a small smile. The one she used when she was trying not to freak out herself.

“Oak Ridge is a very…interesting place. Quantum Technologies develops a lot of really new inventions you won’t see anywhere else.”

My head had started to pound and I rubbed the back of my neck. My headache was back. But a headache was the least of my worries right now.

I still hadn’t told Mom about the weird flashes of knowledge that popped into my head, or being able to solve problems I didn’t even know I’d been thinking about.

What was the air-speed velocity of that swallow’s flight?
Ten meters per second.

It was amazing and scary at the same time. I knew things I had no idea I’d even learned. Had I read it somewhere once, and now it was popping into my brain at random? Unexpected photographic memory maybe?

But whatever it was, it was freaky enough that the metal security robots patrolling the sidewalk and talking to the people sitting at the outdoor café almost seemed normal. Like dining with freaking Cylons was perfectly ordinary.

I winced as I got another brain jolt and blurted, “Mom, why did they design the robot’s ankle bolts like that? The angle’s all wrong.” With just one glance, a series of images and plans had popped into my head and shown me the bolts should be cut differently to optimize movement.

A whimper escaped my lips as panic reached up and tightened the muscles in my shoulders.

Mom’s eyebrows rose to her hairline and she squeezed my knee. “It’s okay, Lexie. Relax. Everything’s going to be all right. We just need to get to your dad’s and we’ll explain.” She followed the signs toward Quantum Technologies headquarters, but turned off the main road into a small subdivision of post-war track housing before I could get a glimpse of the facility.

She pulled up in front of a shabby ranch-style house and parked the car. I stared at the empty flower boxes and overgrown front garden and tried to breathe. The place looked abandoned.

“This is Dad’s house?” My voice rose in shock. Evidently, his neglect didn’t just extend to his only child.

Mom’s lips thinned but she nodded. “Just remember your dad’s very busy at work. He doesn’t have time to focus on gardening.”

“He could have gotten a Cylon to do it,” I muttered.

I pushed open the car door and a wave of sticky heat instantly turned my dark hair frizzy and coated my skin with sweat. I tugged at the strap of my tank top and slowly turned in a circle to check out the rest of the neighborhood. It was full of houses just like my dad’s, though most of them looked neat and tidy. Half a dozen kids played basketball in a driveway down the block, but otherwise, the hot, humid afternoon was silent. Even the trees felt like they were asleep, their leaves heavy and still.

“Grab your bag.” Mom struggled up the front walk with my suitcase. She’d packed light, just an overnight bag, and I frowned at it sitting on the back seat before gathering the rest of my things.

Mom grabbed the key from under the front mat and went inside. A bead of sweat trickled down my back and I squared my shoulders to follow her. Then I paused. She knew where the key to Dad’s house was? Robot security guards weren’t the only freaky things going on in this town.

Inside, the house seemed nice enough, if a little bare. The front door opened directly into the living room, with a long hallway off to one side leading to what I assumed were the bedrooms.

“Your room is the last door on the left.” Mom glanced around the house and shook her head before dumping my suitcase on the floor and heading back outside for the last load.