Ultraviolet Catastrophe

I brushed my teeth at quantum speed and finally crawled into bed. But even after I closed my eyes, numbers danced behind my eyelids. I dreamt of them all night, waking up briefly when I heard the front door close around three, and then falling back into a nightmare where Albert Einstein and Nathan Rosen screamed at me for being so stupid and ruining their experiment.

I woke up the next morning, stretching as the sunlight streamed in the window and warmed my side of the bed. I didn’t feel like I’d slept at all, and I lay in bed for a minute, staring at the travel poster I’d pinned to the far wall. “Visit Egypt,” it said with a vintage illustration of the pyramids.

The pyramids reminded me of the symbol for wavelength. And then something clicked in my brain. Something I could actually test. I shoved my feet into a pair of slippers and headed for the kitchen. Coffee before science, no matter how excited I was to get working.

Dad had already beaten me to it. He blinked blearily as he poured himself a cup, his sandy hair standing on end, his jaw shadowed with stubble.

I leaned against the counter and crossed my arms. “What time exactly did you get home last night, young man? Do we need to talk about a curfew?”

He pulled another mug out for me, filling it to the top. I curled my fingers around it, soaking up the heat. “I was worried, you know. You could have at least told me you were going to be out that late.”

A blush stained Dad’s cheeks. “Sorry, Lex. I didn’t expect to be out that long. I promise I’ll check in next time.”

I frowned at him. Since when had I turned into the parent? And honestly, discussing my father’s potential love life just wasn’t right. “Just don’t let it happen again or we’ll have to talk about punishments.” I took another sip of coffee, feeling the blessed caffeine start to work through me. “What’re you up to today? We should probably get some groceries. We’re still drinking this same old sludge coffee.”

He stared into his mug and got that apologetic tone to his voice that I hated. “Sorry, honey. I have to go in to work this morning. Avery wants to run some tests, and I need to be there. Is tomorrow okay?”

He had to go to QT. Where the project computers were. I chewed my lip. If I went with Dad, I might be able to test my theory in Asher’s lab. And if I was completely wrong, I wouldn’t look like an idiot because no one else would be around. I didn’t really want to spend a Saturday there, but if it would help me get ahead, I’d suck it up. “Mind if I hitch a ride? I have some work I should catch up on, too.”

“For the project?” Dad nodded. “Of course. I might not be able to get out of there at a decent hour, but you can take the shuttle home if you need to.”

“Great. I’ll go get dressed.”

An hour later, I pressed my finger to the scanner to unlock Asher’s lab, then snapped on the lights. The room was about the size of Dad’s house, but right now, only part of it was in use. Two long tables held four state-of-the-art computers and monitors. A server bank sat along one wall, and Max had created a robotics station, with a table full of tools I’d never seen before. The room was silent and chilly, and I rubbed my arms, trying to ignore the hum of the machines. If I let myself, I would start imagining they’d come to life. Or were watching me.

I hiked myself up on one of the tall stools and powered on a computer. Max, Zella, and Amy’s assignment had been to design a simulation of the wormhole machine we could use to verify our formulas. They’d finished it three days ago, and now it was time to take it for a test drive.

I opened the program to enter Avery’s formula into the system. The clicking sound of the keyboard filled the room, and when I was done, I scanned his numbers again. I’d bet my life there was something wrong with his equation.

My finger trembled as I clicked the simulation button. On the monitor, the machine started working as expected. Twenty percent, forty percent, sixty percent. Maybe I was wrong after all. Maybe I didn’t know what I was talking about. The computer gave a long, low tone and then started beeping, increasing in speed until it was a steady scream in my ears. The screen flashed red warning text across the top as it hit seventy percent complete and a computerized voice said, “Warning: Experiment Unstable.”

A second later, the entire simulation exploded on the screen in a wave of particles.

The voice came again, like a disapproving teacher. “Experiment Failed.”

I frowned at the computer. Yeah. That was not supposed to happen.

“What are you doing here?”

I gasped, spinning around on my stool. “Asher. You scared the crap out of me!”

He shrugged, his eyes looking tired. “Sorry. I didn’t expect anyone else to be here today. Thought I’d get some extra work in.” He shuffled past me to dump his bag on a desk, and I wrinkled my nose.

He smelled like the perfume Amy always wore. My jaw tightened, but I refused to acknowledge it. I had no reason to be jealous. Not technically anyway.

Instead, I spun back to my computer and started clearing the simulation data. “Yeah, I needed to check some numbers I was working on last night, and then I remembered the sim Max and Zella built. I didn’t think I’d be bothering anyone if I came in today.”

“Not at all. I would have been here sooner, but I had to drop Amy at her house. We worked on her piece of the project way too late, and she crashed on my couch last night.”

Was he blushing? Oh my god. Had they hooked up? After he’d told me they were just friends?

“Ah.” I pretended to study the computer screen. I didn’t care. I couldn’t care. I had more important things to focus on, like figuring out what was wrong with this calculation.

Unfortunately, Asher was the one person who might be able to help me.

He shuffled in his bag and refused to look at me. An awkward silence filled the room as I watched the cursor blinking in an empty field. Finally, I pushed aside my feelings and said, “Before you get started, would you mind looking at something for me?”

“Sure. What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure. I was going over Avery’s equations last night, trying to make sense of them, and something kept bothering me. I think the numbers in this part of his formula are wrong.”

Asher stood beside me as I pointed to my tablet and the calculations I’d come up with. He furrowed his eyebrows, his lips moving as he read through my changes. “You know, I think you might be right. How did I miss it?”