Ultraviolet Catastrophe

The silence between us grew almost uncomfortable until Asher finally shrugged. “It doesn’t matter why you’re here — I’m just glad you are.”

My lips parted in surprise. He’d ignored me all day after I’d been kind of counting on him to help me out. “Is anyone at this place ever going to accept me, or should I just give up now and learn to love the library?”

He laughed. “I told you they were tough. Just don’t let them push you around. Once they see you really do belong here, they’ll back off.” He turned into town. “Your dad still live on Middle?”

I nodded, and a few moments later, we pulled up in front of my dad’s dark house. I frowned, staring at the chipping paint on the front door. The last thing I wanted to do was go inside, but I couldn’t think of a reason to stay here in the car.

“Thanks for the ride,” I finally said, tracing the door handle with my finger.

“No problem. Glad I was around.” A dimple flashed in his cheek. “You know, my offer still stands. If you ever want a private tutoring session, I’m your guy.”

My pulse jumped. Play it cool, Kepler. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” I paused. “If I ever get desperate.”

He pressed a hand to his heart and mock-pouted. “I’m hurt.”

I grinned at him, feeling better than I had all day, and got out of the car.

The passenger-side window rolled down, and Asher ducked his head so I could see him. “Hey, Lexie? Hang in there. It’ll get better.” And then he sped off, leaving me with a stupid smile stretching across my face.

The house felt huge and empty as I let myself in the front door and switched on the hall light. I shivered as the air conditioning clicked on and a cool breeze caressed my face. I hated empty houses, always had. I couldn’t stop myself from imagining something huge and hungry waiting for me in the shadows.

Stop it, Kepler.

I dumped my messenger bag on the chair and slogged into the kitchen, turning on lights as I went. Dad had taken me grocery shopping yesterday, but cooking was at the bottom of my to-do list right now. I pulled out a bag of tater tots and turned on the oven. Then, I flopped onto the couch with my tablet and pulled up my email.

A few shopping ads, a joke forward from an acquaintance back at Columbus High, a reminder that my subscription to Scientific American was about to expire, and an email from a name I didn’t recognize. Timothy Grant.

A light blue logo was at the top of the email: a rifle crossed by a microscope. The image looked familiar — like I’d seen it before but couldn’t remember where.

My hands turned to ice as I began to read.

Miss Kepler,

It’s always difficult to start at a new school, and I hear today was especially hard for you. But you do have a choice. You are special, and Branston Academy wants to help you make use of your amazing gift. We want you to join us. Become part of something great. Unlike Quantum Technology, Branston Academy could become home to you. A place where you belong.

We’ve been waiting a long time for you, Lexie, but the wait is almost over. I’ll be in touch soon, and you can decide for yourself instead of being a pawn in your father’s game.

Major Timothy Grant

I stared at the stark, black words on the screen, each breath sharp and painful. What. The. Hell.

The front door rattled, and I jerked my head up, heart pounding.

Dad stepped inside. “Lexie? Are you here? Why haven’t you been answering your phone?” He threw his keys down on the counter and stormed into the living room. “I’ve been worried sick. This is unacceptable behavior, young lady.” His hair was spiky, like he’d been running his hands through it, and his eyes flashed with anger. But one look at me and the anger drained away. He clutched the back of the couch. “What’s wrong? Is it your mother?”

I shook my head and shoved my tablet at him without a word.

He scanned the email, his lips tightening until they disappeared into a thin line. The tablet trembled in his hands.

“What is this about?” I demanded, getting to my feet. “What else didn’t you tell me?”

Dad set the tablet down on the table and swallowed hard. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He sighed. “I know, but it’s the best one I have right now. Branston Academy is a government facility that tracks highly intelligent individuals. They use their students’ intelligence to solve problems their own scientists haven’t been able to fix, to help them advance their weapons and programs. Branston’s goal is to become the most powerful scientific corporation in the world.”

“What does this have to do with me?” I crossed my arms over my chest, not caring that the words came out more like a snarl. None of this made sense, but the fear growing in the pit of my stomach told me it was all bad.

Dad cleared his throat. “Branston has been looking for you since you were three.”

“What the hell for?” And then it hit me in a wave of hot, sick fury. The drugs. The lies. “You kept me average so they wouldn’t find me.”

“We didn’t have a choice. Your mother and I couldn’t risk them using you or experimenting on you. We had to keep you safe.”

“Safe from what?”

Dad’s lips thinned again. “More than anything, Branston wants power. And they will go to any lengths to get it. They were the ones who staged the break-in at Los Alamos to steal military secrets. And they think by gathering an army of super-smart individuals to infiltrate the highest levels of the government, they’ll become unstoppable. They want you to be part of that army.”

His words echoed through the room, and all I could do was stare. The war of emotions surging through me right now would explode into a bomb if I tried to make sense any of this.

“Lexie?” His voice softened. “Honey, everything we’ve done has been to protect you from them. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you the truth. But now that they’ve found you…”

“How did they find me?”

“We think the drugs started wearing off last spring. And when you took that standardized test before school let out, your test scores were high enough to ping on Branston’s radar.”

I closed my eyes. I remembered that test. The answers had popped into my head like they were waiting for me. I’d finished a good half hour before anyone else.

The room spun, going dark around the edges as the panic started to take hold. If Dad was right and they’d been searching for me since I was little, what would they actually do when they found me?