by Jamie Grey
The news anchor turned the next story over to his co-host, and Mom stepped through the puddle of milk and turned the TV off.
Her hand trembled. She looked like she had in the mall last week. Like she was going to be sick.
“What’s going on?”
Mom shook her head. “Will you take care of the mess? I need to call your father.”
My jaw dropped open. “Dad? Why?” I couldn’t remember a single time in the last ten years when she’d actually chosen to call him. Now, she’d talked to him twice in one week.
“Lexie, please. I’ll be back in a minute. Just clean it up please.” She grabbed the phone off the counter, rubbing the back of her neck as she left the room.
I did a few quick swipes with a handful of paper towels, dumped them in the garbage under the sink, and tiptoed down the hall to the living room. I pressed myself against the wall so I could peek inside.
“William, I just saw the news. What exactly did they get from Los Alamos?” Mom paced between the couch and the window, the phone pressed to her ear. She moved stiffly, like all her muscles had tensed. “So that really was Grant at the mall, wasn’t it?”
Almost a minute elapsed as my dad spoke. My chest tightened as I waited for her answer.
“Three days? That’s it?” She let out a soft sigh. “I understand. I wish it hadn’t come to this, but we’ve been lucky for the last few years.” Another pause. “I miss you, too. We’ll see you soon.” She clicked the phone off and dropped it on the coffee table with a clatter before burying her head in her hands.
My stomach hit the floor. Miss him? Mom could barely stand the guy. I leaned back and took a shaky breath. She needed to tell me what was going on. Now.
A moment later, Mom sighed and marched out of the living room. Her gaze narrowed as she saw me standing near the door. “What did you hear?”
I pressed my palms against the cool wall. “Enough to be completely freaked out. What is going on?”
“We’re going to take a trip to visit your dad this weekend. How about you start packing?”
I shook my head. “Uh-uh. You’re not getting out of it that easily.” Panic twisted my stomach into one big knot. Mom and I were close. I told her everything. And, until this past week, I’d thought she did the same with me.
Her brown eyes were full of fear, but she put on her best everything’s-okay-voice. “Nothing to worry about, but your dad needs to see you about your ADHD meds. The clinical trial is almost up, and they need to finish collecting data on you.”
I blinked. “Why didn’t he tell me that when we talked last week? And what does that have to do with the news?”
“Nothing at all. Just jolted my memory. Besides, it’s been a while since you’ve seen your dad. He’s been talking about you coming to visit. Now’s a good time before school starts.”
That was the last thing I wanted. Anger shot through me. I was tired of the lies from both of them. “I’m not going to Tennessee. I’m not doing anything until you tell me what’s going on.”
“Watch your tone, young lady.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at her. I hadn’t even gotten started with the attitude. I could do this all night if I had to.
And Mom knew it. She threw her hands up. “I can’t talk to you rationally when you’re like this. I need to go make a few calls. And since you can’t be trusted not to eavesdrop, I’m going to my room. Go ahead and eat without me.”
She turned and walked away down the hall. I stared after her. Hurt and fear fought to take hold, and my arms slid down to wrap around my waist. I could count on one hand the number of times Mom and I had seriously fought. But this was different. I’d never seen her like this before.
She was scared.
I shoved the last of my clothes into my suitcase and glanced around my bedroom to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. My mini telescope and my Albert Einstein action figure were neatly positioned beside the T.A.R.D.I.S. cookie jar I’d gotten for my last birthday, and the dust that had covered my bookshelf since I’d gotten my tablet was gone. Mom had made me clean while we were packing, so there was a distinct lack of Lexie-mess in the room. She’d even insisted I box up some of my other books and knick-knacks while I was at it. A weird, forced spring clean in the middle of August.
“Almost done?” Mom asked, leaning against the door. “Did you make sure to pack those extra clothes and books?”
“Yep. I have a full suitcase, an entire box of stuff, my diary from third grade, and the kitchen sink. Seems a little overkill for a weekend visit.” I arched an eyebrow at her, but she shook her head, her eyes still shadowed and haunted. I knew I was being melodramatic, but I’d tried arguing, begging, pleading, and tricking her into telling me what was going on.
Mom remained tight-lipped.
We were on the road an hour later. Mom’s Buick sedan was old but comfortable, and the passenger seat cushioned me as I watched the flat Ohio countryside slowly give way to the green hills of Kentucky. She drove with her lips pressed together, only the soft murmur of the radio to break the silence. The silence that had seemed to fill all the space between us since that little incident with the gun.
My fingers drummed against my knee in time to the whirr of the tires on pavement. I’d never visited Dad in Tennessee before. He’d always come to us. First, in Washington when I was little. Then, in Ohio when we moved there three years ago. Every time it got more and more uncomfortable.
I couldn’t wait to deal with the awkwardness this time as we danced around the fact that we barely knew each other anymore.
I watched a pair of horses chase each other across a pasture. The soft hills of Kentucky grew into the Appalachian Mountains, their peaks lavender-gray in the distance as we approached Oak Ridge, Tennessee.
The Secret City.
I’d done my homework, of course. As soon as Mom had let the name of where Dad was working slip, I’d dug around the Internet and found Oak Ridge was one of the sites of the Manhattan Project, the World War II effort that produced the first atomic bomb. It had been a secret, government-run town until 1959, and then Quantum Technologies had taken over the former government buildings and science facilities, as well as added buildings of their own. Once, the whole town had worked for the U.S. government; now, most of them worked for QT.
The car slowed as we pulled into town. Gas stations and fast food restaurants lined the wide street, giving way to a several small strip malls and a grocery store. It all looked perfectly normal.
And then we drove into the downtown area.
A large, yellow sign reading “Welcome to Oak Ridge” greeted us, bearing the symbol of an atom surrounded by ellipses. A few kids on skateboards hung around the park by the main square, doing kickflips and ollies on the stairs. I watched one try to nail a landing, but he slipped instead. I sucked in my breath, thinking for sure he’d land on his butt, but the board flipped on its own at the last minute, a tiny jet of fire moving it to land beneath the kid’s feet.
I gasped. It was a freaking hoverboard!
A thrill of excitement made my skin prickle with goosebumps. Maybe Quantum Technologies wasn’t just a research facility. Maybe this whole trip wouldn’t be completely wasted. If I could bring one of those back with me to school…
Mom stopped at the red light, and I scanned the rest of the street. A young couple picnicked under one of the large oak trees while, across the green, a kid was playing catch with her golden retriever. I smiled as the dog leaped and bounded after the ball.
And then ran right through a big, blue mailbox like it wasn’t there, catching the ball on the other side. The dog’s plumed tail wagged frantically as it trotted back to the little girl. Through the mailbox. Again.
I pressed a hand to my eyes. No. Not possible. I looked again, and the image of the dog flickered briefly, pixelating before it snapped back together.
Oh my god. A hologram.
“Mom?”
“Yes, dear?” Her eyes stayed fo
cused on the line of slow-moving traffic through town, but a muscle jumped in her jaw.
“What is this place?” My voice quivered, and she looked up with a small smile. The one she used when she was trying not to freak out.
“Oak Ridge is a very…interesting town. Quantum Technologies develops a lot of really new inventions you won’t see anywhere else.”
My head had started to pound, and I rubbed the back of my neck. My headache was back. But a headache was the least of my worries right now.
I still hadn’t told Mom about the weird flashes of knowledge that popped into my head or being able to solve problems I didn’t even know I’d been thinking about. I realized now it had been going on a lot longer than I’d recognized.
Like, if I wondered what was the airspeed velocity of that swallow over there? Ten meters per second, popped into my brain.
It was amazing and scary at the same time. I knew things I had no idea I’d even learned. Had I read it somewhere once and now it was popping into my brain at random? Unexpected photographic memory maybe?
Whatever it was, it was strange enough that the security robots patrolling the sidewalk and talking to the people sitting at the outdoor café almost seemed normal. Like dining with freaking Cylons was perfectly ordinary.
I winced as I got another brain jolt and blurted, “Mom, why did they design the robot’s ankle bolts like that? The angle’s all wrong.”
A whimper escaped my lips as panic reached up and froze the muscles in my shoulders.
Mom squeezed my knee. “It’s okay, Lexie. Relax. Everything’s going to be all right. We just need to get to your dad’s, and we’ll explain.”
She followed the signs toward Quantum Technologies headquarters but turned off the main road into a small subdivision of post-war track housing before I could get a glimpse of the facility. She pulled up in front of a shabby ranch-style house and parked the car. I stared at the empty flower boxes and overgrown front garden and tried to breathe. The place looked abandoned.
“This is Dad’s house?” My voice rose in shock. Evidently, his neglect didn’t just extend to his only child.
Mom’s lips thinned, but she nodded. “Just remember your dad’s very busy at work. He doesn’t have time to focus on gardening.”
“He could have gotten a Cylon to do it,” I muttered.
I pushed open the car door, and a wave of sticky heat instantly turned my dark hair frizzy and coated my skin with sweat. I tugged at the strap of my tank top and slowly turned in a circle to check out the rest of the neighborhood. It was full of houses just like my dad’s, though most of them looked neat and tidy. Half a dozen kids played basketball in a driveway down the block, but otherwise, the hot, humid afternoon was silent. Even the trees felt like they were asleep, their leaves heavy and still.
Mom struggled up the front walk with my suitcase. “Grab your bag.” She’d packed light, just an overnight bag, and I frowned at it sitting on the back seat before gathering the rest of my things.
Mom grabbed the key from under the front mat and went inside, and I paused. She knew where the key to Dad’s house was? Robot security guards weren’t the only freaky things going on in this town. A bead of sweat trickled down my back, and I squared my shoulders to follow her.
Inside, the house seemed nice enough if a little bare. The front door opened directly into the living room with a long hallway off to one side leading to what I assumed were the bedrooms.
“Your room is the last door on the left.” Mom glanced around the house and shook her head before dumping my suitcase on the floor and heading back outside for the last load.
I stared at her. She knew where my room was, too? What the hell was going on?
The house smelled of cologne and stale air, like Dad was only here often enough to shower. Maybe he was. Yet another thing I didn’t know about him. I tucked my hair behind my ears and tightened my grip on my bag. I wasn’t going to find my room just standing here.
The first door was open, and a quick peek inside at the navy bedspread and sparse decorations confirmed it was my dad’s bedroom. My heart did a little flip at the picture of me and Mom on his nightstand. The next room was empty, though it seemed to be a decent size. Might be nice for an office or something. I didn’t pay it too much attention; I was already drawn to the last door on the left.
My hand shook as I turned the knob and pushed open the door. I don’t know what I expected, but it looked just like any other room. Full-sized bed, a large wooden dresser, plain vanilla walls. Empty of personality. Dad obviously hadn’t gone to any trouble to make me feel welcome here. To make his daughter feel at home. I tried to ignore the disappointment clogging my throat and dumped my suitcase on the bed.
I heard Dad’s voice floating in from the hallway. I was tempted to wait for him to come to me, but instead, I took a deep breath and headed toward the kitchen.
I froze just inside the door.
Dad’s fingers were tangled in the hair at the back of Mom’s neck. Her hands inched toward his waistband. Their bodies were pressed so close together I couldn’t figure out where one left off and the other began.
Mom and Dad were kissing. Kissing?
Oh. My. God.
I stumbled back, tripping over a bag in the hallway, and they jumped apart. Mom’s fingers flew to her lips, and she wiped them furtively.
“What are you doing?” I could barely get the words out.
Dad tugged at the front of his shirt and gave me a hesitant smile. “Lexie. It’s so good to see you. I can’t believe it’s been almost a year.” He crossed the room and pulled me into a huge bear hug.
I inhaled the warm scent of soap and the faint tang of metal that always clung to his clothes. Part of me wanted to stay there forever, to feel safe and loved for a change, but I pulled away. I’d grown out of being Daddy’s little girl a long time ago.
Dad stared at me, shifted his weight. “Um. You look good, honey. I like your hair long.”
I tugged self-consciously at the dark brown strands. I’d gotten Mom’s beautiful brown eyes, but unfortunately, I’d also inherited her unruly hair. Before we’d left, I’d straightened out the frizz and left it down from my usual ponytail, though now I didn’t know why I’d bothered. I was only coming to visit Dad.
“I’ve been growing it out for a while. Not that you’d know. And stop trying to change the subject. When are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?”
“Language, please,” Mom admonished from where she had retreated to the kitchen sink.
I glared at them, and when Dad glanced at Mom for help, I lost it. “You two were kissing. What aren’t you telling me? Is one of you dying?”
Mom raised her eyebrow at Dad and shrugged. “I’ve been putting her off since we talked Thursday night. She needs to know the truth.”
He shook his head, absently running a finger over the frayed cuff of his shirtsleeve. “Maria, you know we can’t tell her everything. There are security clearances and non-disclosure statements and…”
The breath whooshed out of my lungs. “Hold up. Security clearances? Seriously, what is this about?”
Mom ignored my questions and frowned at Dad. “You promised when the time came, we’d be straight with her. The time is now.”
Dad let out a huge sigh. “I know, but I thought we’d have more time to, you know…” He gestured helplessly. “…prepare.”
Screaming was quickly becoming a viable option in this conversation, next to running from the room. Or melting into a puddle of freak-out tears. “One of you start talking. Now.”
Mom picked up a kitchen towel and began pleating its edge. It was never a good sign when she wouldn’t even look at me. I sank onto one of the hard kitchen chairs before my knees gave out.
Finally, she looked up, her eyes glistening, and my stomach clenched. “Do you remember playing school with your dad when you were little? He’d have you pretend to do homework while he worked through problems of his own?”
I nodded. I’d loved feeling like Dad and I were working on the same equations, like I was helping him, even if it had only been pretend.
“They were actually tests. IQ tests to be exact. And you scored very well.”
Oh god. This was insane. I clutched my hands together in my lap so they couldn’t see them shaking. “How well?”
“Your results were off the charts, Lex,” said Dad. “You were solving math equations most of our scientists can’t finish.”
I shook my head, my muscles tensing. “Not possible. You guys are crazy.” But even as I protested, my skin began to crawl. Was that why I’d had the weird flashes of knowledge all my life?
I pushed away the ache in my stomach and tried to focus on Dad again.
He tugged at the collar of his shirt, his eyes shifting away. “When we saw how smart you were, we also realized what that would mean for you. We wanted you to have a normal childhood, to fit in and experience life as an ordinary kid instead of as a guinea pig. And that required some drastic measures. We needed to protect you. That’s why we did it.”
I stared at him. “Did what?”
“We had to make you average.”
“Average?” I barely had to work at school and was still near the top of my class. If this was me at average, what exactly was I?
Mom grabbed her purse off the table and pulled out my bottle of ADHD meds. They rattled as she set them on the counter, and something clicked in my brain. Something that sucked the air from my lungs.
“Oh my god. Those aren’t ADHD drugs, are they?” It felt like I was trying to inhale razor blades as the panic attack started to take hold. “What did you do to me?”
Dad put his hand on mine and tried to squeeze, but I jerked out of his grasp. The last thing I wanted was that lying asshole to touch me.
He frowned and slid his hands to his lap. “We had to mask some of your intelligence. These drugs altered the neuron chains in your brain so not all of them fired. It was enough to slow down some of your thinking, to help you fit in more.”
