Ultraviolet Catastrophe
Page 27Hired: 9/1/1989
Supervising Manager: Carla Danvers
Original Hiring Manager: William Kepler
Skill set: Genetic manipulation of DNA and RNA, particularly in vitro gene therapy resulting in new development and mutation. Head of new taskforce to develop enhanced intelligence.
My head spun again, and I leaned back against the couch and closed my eyes. “Do I even want to know what that means?”
Asher’s voice was dry as he said, “It means Grant used to report to your dad. And Danvers. That’s got to be more than just coincidence.”
“You are so not making me feel better here.”
“Yeah. Makes me really wonder what exactly was in the shot he gave you. And what they intended to do with you once they had you.”
I glared at him. “Seriously, Asher. Just stop. I can’t handle this right now.”
“Better to handle it now than later when they have you trapped in their facility.”
I knew he was right, but it was so much easier to ignore it. To hope that my dad would hide me, protect me like he said he could. But I knew that wasn’t going to happen. I was going to have to deal with this myself. And Asher was someone I needed on my team.
“Fine, but can we do this tomorrow when my head isn’t throbbing? I think I’d be a lot more useful.”
Dr. Rosen called the next morning with the results of my blood test. Dad was in the middle of making coffee and paused, pressing his finger below his ear. I couldn’t help staring. The whole communicator thing was still so cool.
“No trace in her system?” Dad nodded. “All right. And the nanobots are still intact?” He frowned and listened for a few minutes.
I tapped my fingernail against the counter impatiently. At least when Mom talked on her cell phone, there was the chance I could overhear the conversation.
“That’s strange. Grant doesn’t usually miss the mark like that. Thanks for the call, Emmet.” Dad pressed his ear again and poured himself a cup of coffee before turning to me. My skin pricked at the furrow forming between his eyebrows.
“Dr. Rosen says there’s no trace of the drug in your system, and the nanobots are still intact. Whatever Grant injected you with didn’t work.”
I stared at him. “So what about the side effects? I couldn’t move for, like, half an hour.”
“I don’t know. One of Grant’s specialties is biochemical engineering. As much as I hate the guy, he’s a thorough scientist.”
And Dad would know after supervising him at Branston. I chewed my lip. “Well, I guess that’s a good thing then. I can go to school like normal tomorrow.”
He nodded, though he still looked troubled. “I don’t see why not. I’m going to have Emmet run a few more tests to make sure we haven’t missed anything, but if he says you’re fine, I believe him.” He took another sip of coffee and grimaced. “What kind of sludge did I buy?”
“I think it was on sale last week.”
“Don’t let me go grocery shopping by myself ever again.” He poured the cup down the sink and smiled at me. “Let’s go get breakfast at Coco’s.”
“Ha! Checkmate!” Zella jumped to her feet and the holographic chess board they’d been using flickered into a burst of miniature fireworks over the lunch table. She did a little dance as Max sat back in his chair and glowered at her.
“You just got lucky.”
“Don’t you dare. I worked hard for that win. Do you know how many chess sites I had to study to figure out how to beat you?” She grinned and popped a grape into her mouth. “You’re just a sore loser.”
Max shook his head but a smile played on his lips. “Fine. It was a good match. But watch out next time. I’m going to destroy you.”
I rolled my eyes and took another bite of peanut butter and jelly. I’d given up trying to follow their game. I’d never quite gotten the hang of chess and these moves were way beyond me. Even at lunch, my teammates were overachievers.
Across the room, I spotted Asher striding toward us. I ran a hand through my hair and swiped at my mouth with a napkin. With my luck, I’d have jelly smeared across my chin and never even know.
Asher straddled one of the empty chairs at our table and leaned his arms along the back of the seat, his whole body quivering with suppressed excitement. “Did you guys hear the news?”
Zella popped a grape in her mouth and shook her head. “No, but I bet you’re going to tell us.”
His knees bounced up and down. “It’s still a secret, so keep this between us, but QT just got awarded a huge new contract. It’s going to change everything.”
Zella stopped eating and stared at him with wide eyes. “What’s it for?”
I wasn’t nearly as impressed with his news as I was with the way his “Got Science?” shirt hugged his chest or brought out the blue in his eyes. A bite of sandwich lodged itself in my suddenly dry throat, and I quickly took a drink of water as Asher leaned forward, glanced around the cafeteria to make sure no one was listening.
Max dropped his fork on his lunch tray with a clatter. “A wormhole machine?”
“Shhh!” Asher glared at him.
“But the Einstein-Rosen bridge is theoretical. It doesn’t exist.” Max shook his head. “It’s impossible. They’re too unstable to create in the first place.”
Asher merely raised an eyebrow. “This is Quantum Technologies. Do you have any idea what kinds of projects they’ve been working on in secret?”
“So what does that mean for QT?” I asked, trying to find a way into the conversation. Three pairs of eyes turned to me, and Asher’s grin was smug.
“It’s going to be a huge project. They’ll need all the help they can get, which means they’ll be pulling select groups of students into the project as part of their modules. We’ll be a part of the group of scientists who prove wormholes exist. It’s historic. It’s as important as the Manhattan Project or the Mars Rover.”
“Oh.” Way to go, Kepler. Nothing like flaunting your ignorance.
My tablet dinged on the table, followed by three more dings as Zella, Max, and Asher all got the same email.
Zella pulled it up and read it aloud. “Attention all staff and students. Please plan to meet in the auditorium at four o’clock today to be part of a historic announcement regarding Quantum Technologies and our future. I look forward to sharing this exciting news with you. Signed, Dr. Carla Danvers.”