Amanda Lester and the Orange Crystal Crisis

by Paula Berinstein

  She sneaked a peek at Holmes. He looked as if someone had hit him. She must have put him in an awful position talking about her dead best friend like that. What could he possibly say?

  He sat there for a moment and then said, “Can I see the scenes?”

  She pushed her printout over to him. He skimmed it and looked off into the distance. Then he said, “Okay. I’ll go with your scenes, but I reserve the right to change them later.”

  What? She thought he had agreed to go along with her. Why was he being difficult again? “You can’t. There’s no time. We have to keep on schedule and budget. There’s a limit to the amount of fooling around you can do when you’re working within constraints. We might be able to fix some things in the editing, but we can’t reshoot scenes once they’re wrapped.”

  He stared at her for the longest time. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Finally he said, “You’re the director. I bow to your expertise.”

  Amanda was gobsmacked. She’d figured he would argue. Now she was thrown off. Was he or wasn’t he going to let her direct? Was he letting her get her way now so he could pull the rug out later? The words “What’s my motivation?” came to her and she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. That was the question, wasn’t it? What made Holmes tick? She had no idea.

  Over the next week Amanda wrote the script and set up cameras and lights. Holmes ran here and there, following her around like a puppy and rushing to help her with the heavy stuff. She explained that they would put a green screen behind them and composite the backgrounds in later. She told him how they would frame shots, hit their marks, and use color to tell a story. All of this was new to him and he looked as if someone were performing magic in front of him.

  “How did you learn all this?” he said after Amanda had completed a particularly sensitive maneuver with a red fill light.

  “I dunno,” she said. “I just picked it up. I’ve always done it. Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Like what?” he said.

  “That,” she said, pointing. “You look like you just ate bad fish.”

  “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize. No, of course I didn’t eat bad fish.” He laughed. “Although I quite like fish.”

  She moved her backlight. “By the way, was something weird going on with Professor Redleaf?”

  “She died,” he said.

  “I know, and I’m so sorry. I meant, well, you seemed to know her. You said so at her funeral. I was just wondering if you knew what happened. She looked really freaked out that first day in class.”

  “Yes, I knew her. We worked together on a couple of cyberforensics cases.”

  Amanda was astonished. Holmes was only a kid. “But you’re so young. How did that happen?”

  “Headmaster Thrillkill is a family friend and he asked for my help on the case. Professor Redleaf and I got along really well.”

  “I didn’t know your family was friends with Thrillkill—I mean Professor Thrillkill.”

  “Yes. I’ve known him since I was born,” said Holmes.

  That explained a lot. Amanda guessed that many of the Legatum families knew each other—and the teachers. Why hadn’t that occurred to her before? She wondered how long her own parents had known the headmaster or whether they’d known any of the teachers before she’d entered the school. Of course they’d been far away in the U.S., so maybe not.

  “About what happened that day in class,” Holmes said. “I don’t want to betray a confidence so I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything.”

  What? He had just so much as admitted that something was wrong. This was not good. Was it possible that Professor Redleaf had actually been murdered? Everyone thought she’d been killed in the earthquake, but maybe not. You never knew around here.

  “I understand that you want to protect her,” said Amanda, “but whatever she saw could be important. She might want us to know.”

  “I’m sorry, Amanda,” he said. “I can’t tell you.”

  She wondered if he was lying. He hadn’t done anything to make her think so but people weren’t always what they seemed. She’d lied to Darius Plover, and she prided herself on her integrity. If she could do it anyone could. She shouldn’t have done that, though. What was she thinking? Maybe she should write back and tell the director the truth. No, if she did that he’d never trust her again. It might be okay to write back and ask him how the film was going, though. She could tell him about the earthquake at the same time.

  How had she gotten so sidetracked? She had a film to make. Whether or not it was a training film, and whether or not she had to work with someone she hated didn’t matter. She was a filmmaker and this was her business. It was time to get on with it.

  19

  Triboluminescence

  As much as Amanda wanted to wrap the film, before she could do that she got sidetracked again. While she was editing the footage she and Holmes had shot, Amphora texted her and asked her to come to the lab at once with her video camera. Simon was experimenting with the crystals and they were getting amazing results.

  When she arrived Simon said, “Let’s start over. Amanda, can you video this? I want to document everything.” He had laid the crystals out on the lab bench and sorted them into categories.

  “Sure, but what did you find?” She peered at the array. Some of the crystals looked as they had when the girls had found them, beautifully luminescent and apricot-colored, but some were darker and some lighter.

  “You’ll see. It’ll be more dramatic this way,” he said, fiddling with the placement. He moved what Amanda thought was a pale crystal in with the medium group, then moved it back.

  “What’s this?” said Amanda. “Am I witnessing a conversion? You’ve never been interested in drama before.”

  “Of course I have,” said Simon. “You know I like films. Although I have to admit that Spider-Man and Star Trek have gone downhill recently.” He moved the crystal back into the medium group.

  “Yes!” said Amanda. “I completely agree. I don’t know what those directors have been thinking.” She caught a glimpse of Amphora. She looked bored. “Amphora, what do you think?”

  “Haven’t seen them,” she said. “I like Daniel Radcliffe.”

  “Well, sure,” said Amanda. “Everyone loves Daniel Radcliffe. That’s not the point. What I’m trying to say is that one, if you’re going to remake something, improve it, don’t ruin it. And two, learn how to do your job properly. I mean honestly, the writing in those pictures is terrible.”

  “I agree, but can we get back to the crystals?” said Simon. He was lining them up just so.

  “Oh, sorry. Sure,” said Amanda. “It’s just that—”

  Suddenly Simon grabbed a crystal and threw it across the room. It hit a wall and fell onto the floor. The three kids rushed to look at it. It had turned a deeper orange and was glowing more brightly.

  “Yup,” said Simon, looking at it from all angles. “Just what I expected. Oh nuts. You missed recording that, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, sorry,” said Amanda. “How about if you do it again?” She readied the camera.

  This time when Simon threw a crystal, Amanda caught the action on video. She captured the crystal’s before state, the arc, the splat it made as it flew across the room and hit the wall, and the way it looked afterwards. For the before and after shots, she moved in close.

  “Yup,” said Simon. “Perfect. Now this time I want to measure the strength of the light before and after.” He went to a cupboard and started rummaging around. “And the color temperature. I’m going to need some color sensors.”

  “Good idea,” said Amphora. What was going on? Amphora and Simon getting along? Amanda wondered if Ivy should refund some of their fine money.

  “What’s that?” said Amanda when Simon had returned with a gadget that looked like a souped-up meat thermometer.

  “A lux meter,” he said. “That’s for measuring the lux count—the intensity of the light. But I didn’t find any color sen
sors. I’m going to have to search for an app and see if I can use my phone for that. At least I can do the intensity right now.”

  He tested the lux meter until he was satisfied that it was measuring correctly. Then he struck, scratched, and bumped the crystals, confirming the results the two girls had got when they’d done the same things. Amanda videoed each experiment and Amphora kept a running log with measurements and descriptions.

  “What do you make of this, Simon?” said Amphora. Gosh she was being nice. Well, not nice exactly. Just not mean, which seemed nice when you considered the way she usually treated Simon.

  “I’m wondering if the force of the impact is exciting electrons or photons,” Simon said. “Does this happen with any other types of light?”

  “Doesn’t something like that happen with those plastic emergency lights you can carry around?” said Amanda.

  “Dunno,” said Simon. “I’ve never seen those. Are they an L.A. thing?”

  “Search me,” said Amanda. “I just use them. I don’t know how they work.”

  “Well,” said Simon, “what makes light brighter?”

  “More power,” said Amphora. Wow. She was on a roll. Since when did she become Ms. Electrical Engineer? Amanda thought there might be more to Amphora than she’d realized.

  “So perhaps the kinetic energy that’s being transferred to the crystals is being turned into power and exciting the electrons or the photons,” said Simon, who seemed not to have noticed Amphora’s transformation.

  “Can you explain that slowly?” said Amanda.

  “This is what I mean,” said Simon. “Kinetic energy has to do with motion. The motion of an object gives it the ability to do work.”

  “Oh brother,” said Amanda. “That’s confusing.”

  “Doesn’t have to be,” said Simon. “Kinetic energy makes things move. Easy peasey.” He stepped around the bench waving his arms in a way that made him look even geekier than he already was. “See? Kinetic energy.”

  “Okay,” said Amanda. “I sort of get it. But what about the light?”

  “Ah, that’s interesting,” said Simon. “Kinetic energy can be transformed into other types of energy, such as electric energy. Ever heard of the piezoelectric effect?”

  “No, but if we have some, can I have pepperoni on it?” said Amanda, grinning.

  “The piezoelectric effect has to do with generating electricity by applying pressure to something,” said Simon. “It was discovered by Pierre and Jacques Curie in the nineteenth century.”

  “You mean if I press on my forehead I’m generating electricity in my brain?” said Amanda.

  “That’s an interesting question,” said Simon. “I don’t know. That would seem weird, wouldn’t it? Can you imagine generating electricity every time you press on your forehead? You could do better on Professor Sidebotham’s quizzes that way.”

  “That’s cool,” said Amphora, poking her forehead. “But I don’t feel anything.” She pressed so hard that she made a mark.

  “You’ve got a red mark,” said Simon. Amphora felt her forehead. “Trust me, it’s there.” She rubbed at it. “Would you cut it out?” She dropped her hand without argument. Amanda couldn’t believe it.

  “But here’s a really interesting thing,” Simon continued. “Certain types of crystals do exhibit piezoelectric effects. And that’s what we have here: crystals.” He cocked his head toward the display.

  “So you’re saying that the motion from throwing the crystals is generating the electricity?” said Amphora. She made like she was throwing a ball.

  “In a way yes,” said Simon. “Hey, is that a softball? You need to work on your pitching. But I think it’s not so much the throwing as the impact. In other words, pressure, as I said.”

  “No, it’s not a softball,” said Amphora. “Well, it is but it’s a pretend one, so it doesn’t matter how I throw it. So when we hit or scratch the crystals, they make electricity and glow brighter.”

  “Exactly,” said Simon. “The kinetic energy from your hand is being transferred to the crystals and creating electricity. Or to the imaginary ball.”

  “But what about the colors?” said Amanda. “Is that electrical too?”

  “It’s got to be,” said Simon. “But in effect, there must be colored bulbs inside. Not bulbs exactly, but something that generates different colors of light.”

  “Are you telling me that when I press on my forehead I’m making colored lights inside my body?” said Amanda.

  “Doubt it,” said Simon. “I’ve never heard of colored light inside a body.”

  “But sometimes I see blue lights in front of my eyes,” she said, rolling her eyes around.

  “I think that has to do with the retina,” said Simon.

  “I do see blue spots when I press on my eye,” she said, touching her eyelid.

  “I don’t think that’s the best idea,” said Amphora, grabbing for Amanda’s wrist. “Don’t do that. I mean it.”

  Amanda removed her finger from her lid. “But if I can make electricity in my eyes, I can shoot laser beams out of them.”

  “Don’t think so,” said Simon, “although that would be amazing. The first person I’d zap would be—”

  “Don’t say it,” said Amphora.

  “I was going to say David Wiffle,” said Simon, turning his imaginary bolts in her direction. Amanda was relieved. She did not want a fight erupting again.

  “Not the Moriartys?” said Amphora.

  “Them too,” said Simon. “Especially them.” He shot the imaginary electricity stronger and farther.

  “I think I’d go after Professor Sidebotham,” said Amanda. “Well, David Wiffle first and then her. You know, another cool thing you could do is make movies inside your head. If you could figure out how to make different colors—”

  “That would be sweet,” said Simon. “But I really don’t think it works like that.”

  “So the crystals are exhibiting the piezoelectric effect with pepperoni on top,” said Amphora. She really seemed to like that joke. “Now what?”

  “We need to figure out why they change,” said Simon. “I wonder if the pressure is like charging up a battery and over time it gets drained. That might be why the colors fade.”

  “That makes sense,” said Amanda. “Oh wow, do you think these crystals are batteries? I sure could use some more juice for my phone. I have to charge it up all day long.”

  “It’s possible,” said Simon. “I’d like to look this stuff up. Hang on.” He charged over to the bookcases and started scanning titles.

  “Don’t you want to look it up online?” said Amphora.

  “Nope,” he said. “These books are really good. I’ll find the information faster here.”

  Amphora gave Amanda a quizzical look. Amanda shrugged.

  “Hm,” said Simon after a few minutes. He’d pulled one book after another off the shelves and had been so excited he hadn’t put them back. Every surface was covered with them. “It appears that what we’re seeing is a phenomenon called triboluminescence. This happens when a material is broken or crushed. On the other hand, piezoluminescence occurs when something is deformed rather than broken, scratched, or rubbed. And sometimes x-rays and other electromagnetic radiation can be emitted.”

  “Are you kidding me?” said Amphora. “That’s dangerous. I told you the crystals were making me sick.” She moved away from them.

  “You know Scapulus checked that,” said Amanda. “There are no x-rays coming off the crystals.”

  “Are you sure he had the Geiger counter calibrated right?” said Amphora, who had reached the door.

  “This is Scapulus Holmes we’re talking about,” said Amanda. “He’s annoying but he’s very smart. I can’t imagine he didn’t check that.”

  “I don’t think he’s annoying,” said Amphora. “But you’re right. I guess they are safe. Should I put my necklace back on?”

  “Why not?” said Amanda. “It’s beautiful.”

  Am
phora returned to the lab bench and picked over the crystals until she’d found the necklace, then fastened it around her neck. It glowed happily and so did she. “It is lovely, isn’t it?” she said.

  “Yeah, yeah,” said Simon. “Fetching. But we’ve got to find out more about these things.”

  “And that isn’t the only thing,” said Amanda.

  “Right, the missing whatsit,” said Simon. “How’s that coming?”

  “It isn’t,” said Amanda. “Unless Ivy has come up with something. I’ve been working on the training film, and you guys have been tied up with this.”

  “Not entirely,” said Amphora.

  “Oh really?” said Amanda. “What’s going on?”

  “You’ll see,” said Amphora.

  20

  Eureka!

  Over the next couple of hours the three kids learned a great deal about the crystals. They experimented with varying amounts of force and different stressors to see what would happen. The results were exactly as they expected: the more force and stress, the stronger the reaction; the less force and stress, the weaker the reaction.

  Then they tried to figure out how long crystals would stay charged up under this and that scenario. They discovered that rubbing them softly made them glow longer with more of an apricot color than when they used a lot of force, which initially made them glow brighter and redder, but seemed to burn them out faster.

  “I feel like I’m releasing a genie,” said Amphora, rubbing faster.

  “If there is one, it’s invisible,” said Amanda.

  “And quiet,” said Amphora. “I thought genies were supposed to be talkative.”

  “Ssh,” said Simon. “I’m counting.” He was comparing what happened when he rubbed once, twice, and so on, and making notes.

  “What if there really is some kind of genie inside?” Amphora continued, ignoring Simon. “Not literally, but maybe something we’re not familiar with. Some intelligence.”

  “Don’t think that’s possible,” said Simon, “although the crystals do seem to release different types of energy depending on the force, motion, and duration of the pressure. Maybe they’re some sort of naturally occurring touch screen.”