“Hello!” she said. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I hope my esteemed colleague kept you entertained and engaged. His moonwalking skills are unparalleled!” She smiled pleasantly. “And at NASA, we take moon walks of all sorts very seriously.”
This drew a small laugh from the crowd. Dev exhaled, grateful for the diversion.
“My name is Dr. Genevieve Scopes and this is Professor Ian McGillum.” A stout, gray-haired man scuttled onstage, holding a clipboard with one hand and waving with the other. “Together with Dr. Khatri, we collaborate on some exciting projects. Would anyone like to get a special, behind-the-scenes tour?”
Dozens of hands shot into the air. “Great! I love your enthusiasm. I believe your chaperones divided you into two groups. Orange group, please follow Professor McGillum. Purple group, please come with Dr. Khatri and me.”
Dev looked down at a big purple dot on the nametag stuck to his shirt. From his place onstage, his dad flashed a dorky double thumbs-up. Dev couldn’t believe his terrible luck.
12
EARTH
Dev shuffled toward the clump of other purple-dot kids. He was grateful that Lewis was in his group, and Zoey, too. Even if she made his heart race and his palms clammy.
His father opened his arms as he approached. “What? You’re not going to hug your dear old dad?” Despite Dev’s protests, he pulled him into a bear hug, mussing his hair.
“Dad! Please. You can’t do that. I’m not five years old!” he said, mortified.
Dr. Khatri buttoned his lab coat. “Right. You’re nearly a teenager now. Allergic to hugs. Fine. I understand. Maybe you’re too cool to try the antigravity simulator, then?”
“What? That sounds amazing! We have to try that!” Lewis said. “Is it like virtual reality?”
“Even better. It’s real reality,” Dr. Khatri replied.
“Whoa.”
Dr. Khatri extended his hand to Lewis. “What is your name, young man?”
“Lew, sir!” he said brightly.
“Loser?” Dr. Khatri scratched his head. “What an unconventional moniker.”
Lewis shrugged. “Lewiston Wynner, to be precise. Dev and I are in marching band together.”
“A fellow musician? Brilliant!” His face lit up. “Did you know music and physics are closely related? Kepler, Newton, Sagan, and others were fascinated by the connections between the two. Modern string theory posits that the subatomic particles that make up our universe are similar to the notes one can play on an instrument, like a symphony of vibrating strings.”
“ Really?” said Lewis, genuinely intrigued.
“And saxophonist John Coltrane was inspired by Einstein and incorporated physics and geometry into his musical compositions. Right, Dad?” Dev added, happy they could find some unembarrassing common ground.
“Yes! His Interstellar Space album will transport you to new dimensions.”
“It will?” Isaiah asked, leaning closer.
Dr. Khatri smiled. “Not literally, of course. But emotionally, musically, maybe even spiritually.”
“My dad loves Coltrane, too,” Zoey said, joining the conversation. “Nice tie, by the way.” She pointed to the purple-and-black silk tie with a giant pi symbol above an image of a cherry pie.
Dev was dumbstruck. Had Zoey Hawthorne-Scott actually complimented his father’s horrendously nerdy accessories? Maybe he had slipped into some alternate dimension.
“Ah-ha! See, Dev? I knew your friends would appreciate my style. I’ve even got matching socks!” He lifted his pant leg as proof.
“Okay, time to go. This way, please!” Dr. Scopes sang, leading the group out of the auditorium and down the hall.
As they walked, Isaiah asked Maeve, “Do you notice anything odd about her face?”
“Who? Zoey?” Something about her former best friend was different today, but Maeve couldn’t put her finger on it.
Isaiah shook his head. “No, Dr. Scopes. Does she look blurry to you?”
“I think you need new glasses,” Maeve replied.
“I don’t wear glasses.”
“Maybe you should get some. She looks fine to me. Pretty, even.”
Isaiah blinked. Dr. Scopes’s face lacked contrast, like she was airbrushed. Too smooth, too soft. He blinked again. She returned to normal. Maybe Maeve was right about the glasses …
A few minutes later, they entered a bright, busy laboratory. Scientists sat at long benches, piping liquids into trays, scanning slides, and dissecting dishes of gelatinous goo.
“Are those blobs … alien life-forms?” Tessa asked.
Dr. Scopes chuckled. “No, but close. This team is studying physarum polycephalum, also known as slime mold, found right here on Earth.”
“Yeah, pretty sure I found some of that stuff smeared across my locker this morning,” Maeve mumbled.
“Slime mold is a brainless, neuron-less superorganism with high intelligence levels,” Dr. Scopes explained.
“Sounds like my older brothers, minus the intelligence part,” said Lewis.
“What do you do with it?” Jamila asked, grimacing at the sight of a particularly gooey blob.
Dr. Khatri smiled. “For a while, we believed mimicking the human brain was the optimal way to create artificial intelligence systems. But there is a vast array of nonhuman life worthy of emulation. The ingenuity of our biological brethren is astounding.”
The tour moved on, stopping next at a sound lab with textured walls, computer screens, microphones, and speakers as big as trucks. Two technicians wore black headphones and worked at a massive mixing console.
“This is where we listen to our radio telescopes, scanning for sound patterns that may indicate the presence of life beyond our solar system,” Dr. Scopes told them.
“It’s also where we record our monthly Houston, We Have a Podcast shows,” Dr. Khatri added, grinning.
“Like the Arecibo message of 1974 and the Voyager Golden Records, our team transmits interstellar radio signals across a universal beta channel. Our transmissions carry basic information about humanity and Earth, in the hopes that extraterrestrial intelligence might one day receive them,” Dr. Scopes explained, pointing at the various buttons on the mixing stations.
“How would you access the beta channel?” Nolan asked.
“It’s actually quite simple. Any radio tuned to transmit signals near the 145 megahertz frequency will be picked up.”
Isaiah seemed intrigued by the idea. “So, could I send you a message from my living room in Conroy?”
“If you constructed an operable transceiver, then yes, you could.” Dr. Khatri nodded.
Dr. Scopes stepped in. “But you could also just get in touch through our website, or the direct phone line. Much easier than building a radio of your own.”
“What happens if you do hear from aliens one day?” Jamila asked.
Dr. Khatri’s eyes lit up. “Well, in the event we do make contact with sentient species in the future, our linguistics team is working hard to develop a universal sonic language that would allow us communicate with other life-forms. That’s also where some of our AI research will come in handy. Discovery is a wonderfully collaborative process!”
Dev rolled his eyes. His dad was geeking out, hardcore.
Isaiah raised his hand. “What about extra-dimensional communication?”
Dr. Scopes’s forehead crinkled. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand the question.”
Isaiah felt the eyes of his peers on him. He wasn’t one to speak up in class; most of his classmates tended to forget he existed at all. He cleared his throat. “You’re talking about contacting planets in other solar systems. But what about beyond the Milky Way? What about separate universes?”
Dr. Scopes’s face shifted. She looked at Dr. Khatri uncomfortably. “At one time, people postulated that other dimensions might exist within a broader multiverse of sorts. I know movies and books romanticize this concept, but parallel universe theories have been discredited by the scien
tific community.”
His uncle’s face flashed in his mind’s eye. “What if someone disappeared into thin air?” Isaiah asked, his gray eyes eager. “How could you explain that?”
“That sounds more like a question for a forensics team than for NASA scientists.” She let out a hearty chuckle. The class laughed along with her.
“No, I’m serious. What if there were signs that the universe had holes, or tears? Places where one dimension intersected with another. Could something like that be possible?”
“Well, anything is possible,” said Dev’s father.
“Dr. Khatri, with all due respect, we can’t entertain such outlandish hypotheses. It would be reckless to fill these kids’ heads with untested science. Don’t you think?” Dr. Scopes gave a mauve-lipped smile.
Dev’s father shook his head. “On the contrary, in the words of Professor Tegmark, ‘If we dismiss theories because they seem weird, we risk missing true breakthroughs.’ Dimensional plurality and liminality are fascinating concepts worthy of consideration.”
“What do you mean by liminality?” Isaiah asked.
“It refers to the in-between zones along dimensional borders. As you said, places where someone or something might slip through, from one world to another.”
The group was quiet, listening intently. Dr. Khatri continued, “Ever since the Big Bang, our universe has been slowly expanding. Space-stretching, as predicted by Einstein’s general theory of relativity, could eventually result in dimensional tears. I believe there may be regions of space-time beyond what we can see.”
Dr. Scopes let out a soft sigh and patted Dr. Khatri on the shoulder. “My colleague is humoring you. In reality, nothing of the sort could exist. The laws of physics won’t allow for it. Now, who wants to sample some freeze-dried space ice cream?”
The kids cheered, all except Isaiah, who wasn’t satisfied with the answer. As his classmates filed out of the room, he lingered, searching for signs of the thirteen-pointed symbol he’d seen earlier.
Out in the hallway, Dr. Khatri pulled Dev and Lewis to the side. “Remember the antigravity simulator I mentioned?” he said quietly, watching as Dr. Scopes led the others toward the Milky Way Café. “How would you and your friends like a special demo?”
“ Really?” Dev asked.
“I’m in!” Lewis said.
“In for what?” Maeve said, nosily.
“Dev’s dad is going to take us someplace top secret and extra cool.”
“Sounds fun. I’ll join you,” Maeve replied, even though she hadn’t exactly been invited.
“You can come, too. If you want,” Dev said shyly to Zoey, who was hanging back, looking a little lost.
“Sure, okay,” Tessa said, figuring this was probably what the real Zoey would do.
Dr. Khatri clapped his hands. “Fantastic. I think you four will enjoy this detour.” His eyes twinkled. “We can meet up with Dr. Scopes later. Besides, space ice cream tastes like chalk. Highly overrated, in my opinion.”
As they descended a back stairwell, Maeve asked, “Where’s Isaiah?”
Tessa shrugged. “He must have gone to the café or something.”
“Too bad for him. He’s going to miss all the fun.”
Isaiah slunk along the corridor, ducking into doorways whenever someone in a blue NASA jumpsuit or white lab coat approached. If anyone asked, he’d say he was a field tripper who’d lost his way looking for the bathroom. Innocent enough. Believable too, he hoped.
He climbed a staircase made of glass and steel, spiraling like a double-helix. He rounded the corner and jogged past the auditorium where he and his classmates had watched the introduction video. His heart beat quickly as he ducked under yellow caution tape, passing through an area marked Restricted Access. He thought about his uncle, going undercover in harrowing circumstances, taking risks to expose the truth with his camera in hand. Maybe sneaking around NASA wasn’t exactly the same, but Isaiah felt like his uncle Ming would understand. His mother, on the other hand? Not so much.
He tiptoed silently. Motion-sensor surveillance cameras swiveled as he passed. He was too preoccupied to notice their blinking lights. Time was running out. He needed to get back inside the collider room before anyone noticed he was missing.
13
EARTH
“Prepare to be amazed …” Dr. Khatri swiped an ID card, pressed his thumb to a scanpad, and entered a ten-digit passcode. Huge silver doors opened with a hiss. He led the cadets inside. “This way.”
Dev, Lewis, Maeve, and Tessa stepped into a tall cylindrical tower. Clad in shining aluminum panels, the structure rose several stories high with a massive fan spinning at the top. A control center with at least a thousand switches adorned the lower wall. Dr. Khatri began to prepare the demonstration. He opened a cabinet to gather a few supplies.
“This looks like the inside of my grandfather’s silo, only much cleaner. With more gadgets and less corn,” Maeve said, transfixed.
“Your grandfather has a farm?” Lewis asked. Aside from Miss Mary’s Dairy, not many private farms existed in the area anymore. Most food was grown in high-density green-houses that were managed by MegaAg.
“He used to. Before blight ruined his crops, and practically everyone else’s.” Maeve remembered running through the fields with Gramps and her mom. How long ago had it been? Seven years, maybe eight? She had been young, but the memories were vivid. She missed those carefree days with the sun on her face, dirt under her nails, and grass stains on her knees.
Then things took a turn for the worse. After the farm went under, they moved from the cozy farmhouse to a cramped trailer on the outskirts of the city. Her mom’s moods shifted, darkened. Everything changed so fast. Not only the situation at home, but everywhere. Precipitous, the newscasters said. Warming, melting, rising tides, drought. One thing led to another. The snowball effect, everyone called it. To Maeve, it felt more like an avalanche.
“My grandmother had a farm once, too,” Tessa said, although her memories were less fond. She instinctively touched the cuff bracelet hiding her scar from the tractor accident.
“Yeah, I know, Zo. We’ve talked about this before. Remember?” Maeve gave her a probing look.
“Right, sorry,” Tessa said, trying to cover up the mistake. “I must have forgotten.”
“Forgotten, or never listened in the first place?” Maeve replied, her cheeks pinking.
Tessa stared, unsure how Zoey would respond to the loaded question. Thankfully, Dr. Khatri appeared, presenting them with an armful of strange garments. “Time to suit up.”
“There is no way we’ll fit into those, Dad,” Dev said, eyeing the hefty silver, black, and green outfits.
“Ah, but you will. Because our textile specialists engineered these with responsive self-sizing modulation fibers.”
“So, like, fancy spandex?” Tessa ventured.
“Sort of. But more high-tech. And shinier!” Dr. Khatri grinned. “Could I have a volunteer?”
“Oh! Me! Me!” Lewis jumped up, nearly crashing into Maeve.
“Lewiston. Thank you. Here you are.” Lewis stepped into a voluminous suit. It hung like an elephant’s skin around him. “Watch this.” Dr. Khatri pressed an orange button on the suit’s shoulder seam. The material shifted, adjusting in mere seconds to every inch of Lewis’s body, as though the cloth had been custom-tailored to fit his long, skinny legs and gangly arms.
“This could revolutionize the fashion industry,” Tessa gushed.
“Indeed.” Dr. Khatri nodded. “The potential is immeasurable. No pun intended.”
Once everyone was dressed, Dr. Khatri talked them through the flight procedure. “And now, we fly. Or float, rather. Ready?”
“Yes!” they shouted excitedly.
Dev was shocked. First, he had no idea his father had access to such amazing technology. Second, his friends genuinely seemed to think his dad was great. Which he was (when he wasn’t terrifically embarrassing). The day had taken a wonderful, unexp
ected turn.
But it got even better when his father activated the Zero-Grav sequence. A gust of cool air ruffled their hair. With a whoosh! their feet lifted off the floor. The kids rose higher and higher, somersaulting and swimming through the air, incredulous and delighted.
Maeve dipped and whirled, singing the school motto loudly, “We are Conroy Cadets, hear us roar! Look to the sky—watch us SOAR!” She began leading the others through some weightless marching band choreography. Tessa didn’t know the moves, but she improvised and followed along pretty well, surprising herself by actually having fun. For once, she wasn’t obsessing about whether she looked dorky or whether the other kids were judging her.
Laughter echoed off the flight chamber walls. Below, Dev saw his father gazing up at them from the control panel. Dev smiled and mouthed the words thank you.
His dad waved and nodded.
“This is the absolute best day!” Lewis said, floating by, doing the funky chicken dance.
“You’re so much more graceful in antigravity conditions,” Maeve said, giggling, feeling lighter and happier than she had in months. She didn’t ever want to come down.
“I think that’s the first compliment you’ve ever given me, Maeve Greene,” Lewis said.
“Enjoy it, Wynner, ’cause it’ll probably be the last.” A small smile cracked her serious face and they both started laughing.
After a few minutes of blissful weightlessness, a buzzer sounded. “Time’s up,” Dr. Khatri announced. “Untrained bodies should only experience limited intervals of Zero-Grav.”
The kids landed softly, their shoes bouncing on impact.
“That was better than any ride at the amusement park,” Lewis said, grinning from ear to ear. “Seriously. Thank you, Dr. Khatri.”
“You’re really lucky,” Maeve said to Dev. “Your dad is total hashtag-dadgoals.”
“Thanks. I agree.” He paused. “I’m sure your dad is pretty great, too.”
She looked at Dev, her blue eyes steely. She’d never met her father, but she wasn’t about to ruin this moment thinking about him.
“I hope you kids feel inspired by the possibilities of science. Now, let’s join Dr. Scopes in the jet propulsion center. I think you’ll find it equally fascinating.”
Mission Multiverse Page 7
