Ultraviolet Catastrophe (10 page)

BOOK: Ultraviolet Catastrophe
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The only thing that got me through the rest of the week was being able to hide in the library. I even skipped Avery’s class. I was terrified of seeing Asher. Knowing that he knew about the drugs was bad enough, but having to see the pity in his eyes was something I couldn’t face.

I spent hours plugging away at my ultraviolet catastrophe research. It was my one chance to prove myself to them, and I wasn’t going to screw it up by slacking off, not matter how freaked out I was. I wanted to show them all that, even if they’d drugged me, I was still smart, still belonged here. I was still me.

But I’d never been so glad for the weekend in my life.

When I got up Saturday morning, I found a note from Dad in the kitchen:

Gone to QT for an emergency. Will bring home dinner.

I crumpled it in my fist before tossing it in the garbage. Great. Another day alone.

The only sound in the empty house was the hum of the refrigerator and the tick-tock of Dad’s grandfather clock. I couldn’t handle it. I’d spent Friday night locked in my bedroom — I wasn’t doing that again.

Maybe it was time to explore Oak Ridge.

I locked the door behind me and wandered toward downtown. The September air was still sticky with the summer heat, and a bunch of kids played baseball in their front yards. I watched a boy with spiky hair pull back and pitch a softball to a girl across the street. She swung, the bat connecting to the ball with a loud crack. It soared back toward him, and I cringed as it headed toward an upstairs window. But instead of crashing through the glass, it slowed down until it hung frozen in mid-air. One of the outfielders pressed a button on his baseball glove, and the ball dropped into his hand.

I shook my head. If I wasn’t so freaked out by everything, I might like this place. Until I remembered, I wasn’t here for fun. I was here because Branston had been searching for me since I was three. And my parents had drugged me to keep me safe from them. Goosebumps shivered on my skin, and I pushed on.

It was only four blocks, but I was sweating by the time I reached downtown. The security robots I’d seen on my first day stood sentinel on corners or wandered up and down the street, the sun glinting off their arms and legs. Their heads were made of a single sheet of metal, polished to a high gloss and shaped into an oblong, with slits for their eye sensors. I clenched my trembling fingers and moved past them. Hadn’t the scientists at QT read any science fiction? One of these days, the robots were going to try to take over.

A trickle of sweat dripped down my neck, and I wanted nothing more than a huge iced coffee and a seat in the air conditioning. Coco’s Coffee sat at the end of the block, and from what I could tell, it was the local hang out — for scientists and students alike. I recognized a few of my classmates sitting outside, despite the heat. Even worse, I spotted Asher and Amy, heads bent together over a bowl of ice cream.

I ducked behind a potted cedar. Amy probably knew all about the drugs by now. If she and Asher were dating, I was positive he’d told her. And if Asher knowing about it wasn’t bad enough, perfect, popular Amy knowing about it was a thousand times worse.

Sneaking around the plant, I pushed open the door to the coffee shop and winced as a bell jangled at the entrance. Inside was airy and casual, with a bank of booths on the far side and tables scattered throughout the room. Cheerful daisies sat in squat vases on each table, and photography and artwork dotted the walls. It seemed like any other coffee shop.

Except for the barista behind the bar.

In a town full of scientific geniuses, this girl stuck out like a supernova. Her hair was died purple and stuck out in spikes from her head. She had ear gauges in both earlobes and a stud in her nose. But when she smiled at me, a dimple flashed in her cheek, and she had the sweetest, softest Southern drawl I’d ever heard.

“What can I get for you, darlin’?” she asked.

I studied the tattoo on her neck of an atom before snapping my gaze to her dark brown eyes. “Um, the biggest iced coffee you can make, please.”

“It’s a scorcher out there, isn’t it?” She furrowed her eyebrows as she pulled a recycled paper cup from the stack. “Wait a minute — you’re Dr. Kepler’s daughter, aren’t you?”

I nodded. “Lexie. How did you know?”

“You look like him. And Will is a regular.” Her dimple flashed again. Exactly how many women in Oak Ridge knew my dad? “I’m Coco. How are you settling in?”

I shrugged. “It’s only my first week. I’m assuming it’ll get better.”

Coco nodded. “QT is tough. I left after I graduated and never looked back. Mom still works there, but I wanted nothing to do with it. I went to the CIA instead.”

I eyed her ripped shirt and chain-link bracelets dubiously. “CIA? Like the feds?”

She laughed. “No, the Culinary Institute of America. In New York. I’m a chef. And a damn good one if I do say so myself. Though, of course, all my best dishes are top secret,” she added with a grin.

“A top secret café in the middle of town? This place is crazy,” I said, shaking my head.

“Did you notice the bots standing around Main Street? Oak Ridge has the best security in the world. They’re tied into the QT system and can take you out at a hundred yards. Don’t even try to talk about my meals outside of Oak Ridge.” She winked and handed over a tall, iced coffee, but her words made my skin crawl. “Here you go. Enjoy. And it was nice to meet you, darlin’. I hope we’ll see you often.”

“Thanks.” I took my coffee and wandered over to an empty booth along the wall.

The bell jangled, and Asher slipped inside with an empty bowl and two glasses. He turned to order something from Coco and spotted me in the corner. Our eyes met across the room, and he took a hesitant step toward me, the corner of his lip twitching up. I sat up straighter and shoved my hair behind my ears.
Keep it cool, Kepler.

But before I could find out what he was going to do, a man wearing khakis and a button-down shirt entered. He scanned the coffee shop, his gaze resting on me briefly, before he moved toward the counter.

Asher glanced at the guy with a frown, then turned away and finished his order.

I stared into the swirling depths of my coffee and pushed away my disappointment. Asher was here with Amy. I shouldn’t expect anything from him now. I’d blown it with him by freaking out the other day.

“Excuse me, are you Alexa Kepler?” The man stood beside the table and smiled at me, wrinkles framing his eyes. Dad had the same ones from staring into a microscope most of his life.

I nodded. “Yes, sir. Can I help you?”

He glanced over at Coco and Asher, who were still chatting, and then back to me. “Do you mind if I sit down?”

I tilted my head at him. His salt-and-pepper hair was buzzed short, and his posture was rigid, like he had iron in his spine. Each movement was brisk and efficient. Military, even. “Have a seat.”

He slid into the booth across from me and cupped his mug between long fingers. “Alexa, my name is Timothy Grant. Major Timothy Grant. I trust you received my email the other day?”

I jumped to my feet, blood roaring in my ears. Across the room, Asher stared at me. He frowned and pulled out his phone before slipping out of the coffee shop.

Grant put a hand on mine, his voice soothing and even, drawing my attention back to him. “Lexie, please. I mean you no harm. I simply want to talk. You can walk away if you ever feel threatened.”

I felt my knees tremble as I sank back into the booth. “How did you find me?” I whispered.

His expression was grim. “Your mother’s led us on quite the chase, but eventually, we figured out where you were. I wish we’d found you before you started at QT. It would make all of this so much easier.”

I clutched the edge of the table. I hadn’t heard from Mom since Monday. “Where is she? What did you do to her?”

Grant shook his head. “Nothing. The last I heard she was in Seattle. Perfectly healthy. But I’m not here to talk about your parents, Lexie. I’m here to talk about you. I want to offer you a spot at the most prestigious scientific academy in the world. We’ve been waiting for you since you were born.”

I clutched my iced coffee, the condensation from the glass mingling with my suddenly sweaty palms.

Grant pulled a brochure from his back pocket and slid it across the table toward me.

I automatically picked it up. There was a large, ivy-covered manor house on the cover, with white-trimmed windows and a wide, oak door. Inside the brochure, there were pictures of smiling high school students and tidy dorm rooms. I caught the words “world-class education,” “limitless opportunities,” and “camaraderie.” My nostrils flared as I ran a finger over the embossed Branston Academy logo. A microscope and a rifle.

Grant continued. “If you attend Branston, doors you never even knew about will open for you. You’ll have the chance to work with mathematicians and scientists at the top of their fields. People who could be the next Albert Einstein. You can write your own ticket to any university in the world. We have students at Harvard, Yale, Cambridge, MIT…”

I felt a twinge of interest. Mom and I had always talked about me going there, but it had been more of a dream. But now, this all sounded perfect. Too perfect. “What’s the catch?”

“There is no catch, I assure you.”

“Then why not just ask me? Why chase my family across the country?” I glared at him, my fingers tightening around the brochure. My whole life had been a lie because of these people.

Grant’s smile was sad as he gazed into his mug. “We didn’t chase your family. You’ve always been perfectly safe. Your parents have some misguided notion you’re in danger from us. I can assure you it’s absolutely not true.”

Part of me wanted to believe him — the alternative was just too freaky — but my parents wouldn’t have made the choices they had for a threat that didn’t exist. As mad as I was at them, I knew they’d never have drugged me if they didn’t feel I’d been threatened. I narrowed my eyes at him. I didn’t trust his shiny brochure or his smooth lies. “Care to explain why they’d think that then?”

“Branston offered your father a full scholarship to both the academy and to university afterward. He was a model student. Top of his class. Contributed to some amazing scientific discoveries. After he graduated from college, he came back as a researcher and professor.”

I frowned. Why hadn’t Dad told me he’d gone to Branston? That he’d worked for them? His knowledge of them made a little more sense now. And I totally got why he’d gone. My grandparents had been poor and probably would have jumped at the chance to have Dad in a top-notch school.

Grant took a sip of his tea, shifted in his chair. “Back then, Branston had different goals. The trustees put him in charge of medical studies, and for a while, it seemed to be going well. He was a great recruiter, and we had some amazing students join us because of him. And then the accidents started. Lab projects exploding, experiments going wrong, students disappearing. We traced it back to your father and discovered he was purposefully sabotaging things so students could be released from their contracts with the school.”

Something uncomfortable squirmed inside me. “Why would they want to be released?”

Grant looked me in the eye. “I’m going to tell you the truth, Lexie. It was a bad time for Branston. They did some…unfortunate experiments. Things your father disagreed with. He started a sort of underground escape plan for students, and in the meantime, he was working at cross-purposes to the trustees. He was asked to leave.”

I chewed my lip as Grant’s explanation started weaving through my brain. It all matched up with what Dad had hinted at. So far. “Branston was doing horrible experiments. To me, that’s a perfect reason he’d take me and run. Why hold a spot for me?”

“That’s classified information. What I can say is that just because your dad wasn’t a good fit for Branston, doesn’t mean you aren’t.”

“Uh-uh. I need more answers than
it’s classified
.”

“Come with me, Lexie. Let me show you Branston firsthand. If you don’t like it, we’ll send you back to QT, no hard feelings.” He smiled reassuringly.

I frowned. How stupid did he think I was?

“I’m sorry you think that, Lexie,” he said, like he was reading my mind. Grant pulled a syringe of clear liquid from his pocket. The Branston logo was etched into the glass vial. “This serum is something I created just for you. It will disable the tracking nanobots QT injected you with, so they won’t be able to find you or wipe you. You’ll be safe.”

I shook my head. “They weren’t tracking bots, and I don’t want anything to do with Branston. Or you.”

Grant frowned and sighed. “Poor Lexie. Lied to again. I’d hoped we could do this the easy way.” His hand shot out and grabbed my arm, and with his free hand, he flicked the cover off the syringe and jammed it into my bicep.

Fire exploded through my arm, and I let out a yelp, bucking and jerking against his grip. But his fingers felt like steel against my skin, and a moment later, everything went fuzzy.

He got to his feet, bringing me with him. “We’re going to take a little trip, Alexa. I think it’s time you experience Branston for yourself.” He slipped an arm around me, holding me firmly to his side.

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