“I made a mistake yesterday,” she told her imaginary inner Einstein. “I let an annoying student push my buttons.”
“Ah,” her Einstein replied. “I think you’re being too hard on yourself. Besides, a person who never made a mistake never tried anything new. Have you ever read about my ‘cosmological constant,’ a mathematical fix I created for my theory of relativity?”
“Yes,” said Max. “I’ve, uh, studied all your, you know, goofs.”
“You mean my mistakes.”
“Yeah. You sort of fudged your formula.…”
“And a Russian mathematician named Friedmann proved me wrong and, in so doing, developed the Big Bang Theory.”
“Yeah. I read about that, too.”
“So you see, Max—my error led directly to a major scientific breakthrough, not to mention an amusing sitcom on TV. Maybe your error will lead to similar positive results.”
“I don’t see how it could.”
“I felt the same way when Friedmann did his math and showed the world how wrong I was,” said her Einstein with a small chuckle. “But remember this, Max: The only sure way to avoid making mistakes is to have no new ideas.”
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.
Max called out, “Yes?”
“It’s Emma from down the hall.”
Max opened her door.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” said Emma. “You’re super smart, right?”
Max grinned. “That’s relative…”
“Well, we have an emergency. In the study. We need your brain—and your nose!”
Max followed Emma up the corridor to the lounge, a room with a few chairs, footstools, and a whiteboard—plus a microwave oven. It was a great place for a group to study together.
“What’s that smell?” she asked.
“Somebody nuked something extremely malodorous in the microwave. The whole room reeks.”
There was a group of five students huddled in the hall, all of them holding their noses.
“Does anybody have any vanilla extract?” Max asked.
“Um, this is Columbia University,” said Emma. “Not my mother’s kitchen.”
“Right. But a drop or two of vanilla on a warm lightbulb can quickly deodorize a room.” Max snapped her fingers. “Aha. Dryer sheets.”
“I have a bunch of those,” said Emma. “For laundry.”
“Go grab them. How about a fan?”
“I have one in my room,” said a girl named Madison.
“Bring it to the lounge. We’ll stick some dryer sheets to the back of the fan, the side where it’s drawing in air. When we turn on the fan, the sheets will be sucked up against the grille, locking them in place. As the fan blows, we’ll get cool, circulating air that smells great.”
Five minutes later, another problem was solved.
“Awesome!” said Emma. “We’re extremely fortunate to have you on our floor, Professor!”
“Ha!” said the one dissenting voice in the hallway.
Nancy Hanker, the RA.
“I saw your picture in the paper this morning,” she said to Max. “I knew those bodyguards of yours were nothing but trouble. They ever do anything like that on my dorm floor and I promise: You’ll be evicted from John Jay Hall faster than the speed of light squared. Do I make myself clear?”
Max just nodded.
“Good. And why does my lounge smell like fabric softener?”
Max grinned. “So my friends can study without gagging. Excuse me. I need to go work on my lecture notes.”
Max was feeling pretty good as she made her way back to her room.
Not even Nancy Hanker could ruin her mood.
Because Max didn’t realize who else had just read the Columbia Daily Spectator.
10
“She wasn’t there,” said Mr. Mulligan, the thug with the Irish accent.
The one who was also missing most of the pinky finger on his left hand.
“The place was empty,” said his partner, Mr. Hoffman. His accent was slightly German. When he was angry, like he was now, the tiger tattooed on his neck seemed to pounce in time to his pulse.
“You gentlemen are not at fault,” said their boss, a bald scientist with sharp teeth too large for his sneer. “We were operating with outdated data from an unreliable source.”
They were meeting at the scientist’s high-tech research facility outside of Boston.
“We know you want her bad, Dr. Zimm,” said Mulligan.
“It’s not just for me, gentlemen,” said Dr. Zimm, rubbing his skeletal hands together. “It’s for the future of Western civilization. With Max Einstein on the Corp’s team, we can build better, smarter weapons that will keep the world safer and more secure. With her brain, mankind’s potential will know no bounds. She is the key to unleashing new sources of wealth and well-being.”
Mulligan looked at Hoffman, who was looking at Mulligan.
“Isn’t she, like, twelve years old, sir?” said Mulligan.
“How’s she gonna do all that?” asked Hoffman.
Dr. Zimm’s grin grew wider, like the one carved into a jack-o’-lantern that’s started to rot a few days after Halloween.
“Her age imposes no limit on her mental capacity or her monetary potential, gentlemen. There is a reason her last name is Einstein.”
Hoffman arched an eyebrow. “You know her family?”
“What I know, Herr Hoffman, is none of your concern. This, however, is.”
He tapped the Return key on his computer.
“I received a Google alert early this morning, for any internet activity related to ‘child prodigy,’ ‘Einstein,’ ‘physics,’ ‘quantum theory’—I’ve cast quite a wide net with my parameters and keywords.…”
“And?” said Mulligan. “You found the girl?”
“Oh, yes.”
He clicked his mouse a few times. The screen filled with a full-color photo of a “child prodigy” named Paula Ehrenfest who had been lecturing on “Einstein” in a “physics” class at Columbia University. She was standing back while two burly bodyguards wrestled an unruly student to the floor of a lecture hall.
“You hit the trifecta,” said Mulligan. “Three key words or phrases in one news story.”
“Sweet,” added Hoffman.
“It was on the front page of the Columbia University student newspaper,” Dr. Zimm said proudly. “That, my friends, is Max Einstein. Even the alias she is using is a giveaway. Paul Ehrenfest was one of Albert Einstein’s closest associates.”
“You want we should head back to New York, Dr. Z?” asked Mulligan.
“Yes, Pinky. And take some additional associates with you. We don’t want her slipping through our fingers again, do we?”
“No, sir.”
“According to this article, Dr. Paula Ehrenfest is a resident of John Jay Hall on the Columbia campus. I’ve already sent a map and directions to your phones. We must retrieve Max Einstein, re-educate her, and have her recommit to her true calling. We must help her realize who and where she is meant to be! She and I will do great work together. Great work indeed!”
11
The next morning in New York City, an unexpected visitor with an Irish accent showed up in the lobby of John Jay Hall.
“I’m lookin’ for Max Einstein,” the visitor told the Columbia University security guard stationed at a desk in the lobby.
“Sorry. There’s no one here by that name.”
“Oh, right. My bad. I believe she’s registered as Adjunct Professor Paula Ehrenfest.”
The guards had all been advised by Professor Ehrenfest’s personal security detail to let them know if anyone suspicious ever showed up looking for her.
Especially if they uttered the words “Max Einstein.”
“Let me check my computer,” said the security guard.
The computer screen was facing her. The Irish-sounding visitor couldn’t see it so only the guard knew that she had opened her Messages app and
was quickly typing 10-25 and texting it to the two men stationed in the RV outside at the corner of 114th Street and Amsterdam Avenue.
“10-25” was police code for “Report in person.”
“Is there some problem?” asked the Irish visitor.
“No,” said the security guard. “Just having a little trouble locating Professor Ehrenfest’s room number.…”
Jamal and Danny came charging into the lobby. Fast.
“What’s our situation, Edith?” asked Jamal.
Edith, the campus security guard, nodded at her freckle-faced, red-haired visitor.
“She was asking for Max Einstein.”
“Because Max is my bloody friend,” said Siobhan. “Who are you lot?”
“We work for Mr. Abercrombie,” said Jamal.
“You mean, Ben? Well, I reckon I do, too. I’m Siobhan. Max and I are mates.”
Danny held up his phone and snapped a photo of Siobhan’s face. “Verifying identity with facial recognition software.”
“Look, you two oafs, I need to talk to Max. I need her help.”
“She’s a match,” said Danny after his phone played a quick little confirmation melody. “Siobhan.” (He pronounced her name correctly: sha-von.) “Member of the Change Makers team. Home country Ireland. Expert in geoscience. She views the earth as a patient whose maladies can be diagnosed through scientific examination, and eventually cured. She hopes, one day, to develop technology that will be able to predict major events such as earthquakes, hurricanes, and floods.”
“Crikey,” said Siobhan. “You found all that info about me online?”
“We’re tied into the CMI database,” explained Jamal.
“Oh. Does it also tell you that I like long walks on the beach at sunset?”
“Uh, no.”
“Good, you dense fool eejit. Because I don’t. Now where’s Max?”
Jamal and Danny escorted Siobhan up to the seventh floor.
Max was so thrilled to see Siobhan, she threw her arms around her Irish friend and gave her a huge hug.
“Careful now, Max,” grunted Siobhan. “I didn’t fly all the way to New York City to have my ribs cracked.”
Siobhan was fiery and fearless and had helped Max stand up to some extremely bad actors on the team’s first mission in Africa.
“You two okay up here?” asked Jamal.
“We’re better than okay,” said Max, overjoyed to be reunited with her friend.
“You two can stand down,” Siobhan told the bodyguards. “If anybody from the Corp shows up, they’ll have to deal with me.”
“We’ll be on the street if you need us,” said Danny.
“We’ll let Mr. Abercrombie know you’re here, Siobhan,” added Jamal.
The guards headed out of the building.
Max closed her dorm room door.
“Okay, Siobhan, what’s going on?” she asked.
“I need help. The earth back home is sick, Max. Very, very sick.”
12
“All sorts of folks are getting seriously ill,” said Siobhan. “I think there’s something wrong with the earth underneath our village. Maybe all the way down to the water table.”
“How many people have been affected?”
“When I left home, two dozen. Including my little brother, Séamus. He was weak as a kitten.”
“I’m so sorry, Siobhan.”
“Thank you for that, Max. But, if you don’t mind, I’d like a little more than your sympathy. I’d like your brain.”
“Well, to assess the situation and work up a solution, I think I’d need to be on the ground in Ireland.”
“Exactly. There’s a seven o’clock flight back to Dublin tonight—”
“I can’t go.”
“Excuse me?”
“Ben keeps telling me I need to lie low for a while.”
“And since when did you start obeying the rules and what other people tell you?”
Max sighed. “The Corp and that crazy Dr. Zimm are still after me.”
“Look, Max,” said Siobhan, “I didn’t fly all this way, on a ticket I paid for by myself, I’ll have you know, just so I could hear you tell me ‘no’ to my face.”
“But—”
“This is a real problem, Max. Not one of Dr. Einstein’s famous thought experiments. I figured Ben would say no to you coming to Ireland, because of all this guff with the Corp. So I didn’t even ask. I skipped the middle man and came straight to you. My home, my family—we need you, Max Einstein.”
Max understood how Siobhan felt. With the theory of relativity, a lot of things depend on your perspective. For Siobhan, the problem back home in Ireland was currently the biggest problem in the whole world.
“You thirsty?” Max asked, abruptly shifting gears, hoping to buy a little time. She needed to figure out how to get Ben on board. This could be the CMI’s new project. One of their own needed help!
“Excuse me?” said Siobhan. “What’d you say?”
“I asked if you’re thirsty. I realized I’ve been a very rude host. I didn’t offer you any kind of refreshment.”
Siobhan’s face softened a little. “I’ll take a cold Coke if you have one. It’s a scorcher out today.”
“I know!” Max rummaged under her bed and found the sack of groceries she’d meant to unpack until something much more interesting—“Does reality really exist?”—had crossed her mind.
“I have Coke,” she said. “But it’s warm. Room temperature.”
“Twenty-four degrees Celsius,” said Siobhan.
“Seventy-five Fahrenheit,” said Max.
“Well, it would take about twenty minutes to chill it to the proper drinking temperature in a freezer,” said Siobhan. “If you put the can in a bucket of ice and add water to speed up the ice’s melting and, therefore, its cooling ability, it’d be cold enough to drink in about six minutes.”
Max nodded. “And if we add rock salt to the ice, the chill time would be reduced to just over two minutes.”
“So, where’s your bucket, ice, and salt?” said Siobhan.
“Sorry. It’s a dorm, not a hotel.” Max snapped her fingers. “Aha! Of course. Come on.”
She tossed two warm cans of Coke to Siobhan.
“Where’re we going?”
“Down the hall. There’s a CO2 fire extinguisher mounted on the wall.…”
Siobhan grinned. “Aha, indeed! An excellent idea!”
They hurried out the door. As it closed, Max bent down to place a small metal washer on the floor directly in front of the door’s sill.
“Max?” said Siobhan. “What are you doing?”
“Sorry. Little home security hack.”
“Can we hack the Coke cans first? Talking about how thirsty I am made me even thirstier!”
Max led Siobhan to the fire extinguisher cabinet.
They placed the two Coke cans on the floor, aimed the extinguisher’s nozzle, and pulled the trigger.
When the frosty fog cleared, Siobhan and Max cleaned and popped open their cans.
“Ah! Five degrees Celsius!” said Siobhan. “Perfect.”
Max took a sip and agreed. “Good thing thermodynamics has laws!”
“This university has laws, too!” shouted a voice behind them.
Nancy Hanker.
13
“One kid on my floor was bad enough,” screamed the resident adviser. “Two? That’s it. You’re out of here, Little Miss Sunshine.”
Siobhan, who’d been chugging her cold Coke, burped a long, gassy rumbler in Nancy Hanker’s face.
“Sorry,” said Siobhan with a smirk. “Natural release of pressure. Did you know that cows also burp?”
“No,” said Nancy, waving at the air in front of her nose.
“Huh,” said Siobhan. “Figured you might be familiar with cows and all their bodily functions.…”
“Come on,” said Max.
“Where we goin’?” asked Siobhan.
“Downstairs. We’ll come back with J
amal and Danny.”
“I’m not afraid of your two overgrown goons!” said Nancy. “Neither is Columbia University!”
“They might ought to be,” said Siobhan. “I know those two blokes scared me a wee bit when I first met ’em.”
“Come on, Siobhan,” said Max. “We’ll take the steps. And Nancy?”
“Yes?”
“Please don’t touch anything in my room.”
“It’s not your room anymore,” said Nancy.
“Let’s wait to hear what the chair of the physics department says after he receives a call from a very generous donor named Benjamin Abercrombie.”
“Too right,” said Siobhan. Then she burped again.
The two friends clanked their way down the fire steps. They pushed open the exit door and stepped out into the muggy air.
“There’s their command center,” said Max, pointing to the RV parked at the curb on 114th Street.
“Hope it’s air-conditioned,” said Siobhan.
“Once we settle this,” said Max, leading the way up the sidewalk, “we’ll figure out what to do about your situation back home in—”
Max did not complete that thought.
Because two men came out of the RV.
And neither one was Jamal or Danny.
“This way,” said Max, ducking her head. She turned on her heel and picked up her pace.
“Who are those nasty-looking blokes?” whispered Siobhan.
“The same two who ransacked my old apartment.”
“What?”
“They work for the Corp. Mr. Weinstock—he’s a friend of Charl and Isabl—showed me security camera footage of those two tearing my old place apart.”
“You really are being hunted.”
“Yeah.”
“I thought maybe you were just making that guff up because you didn’t want to fly all the way to Dublin.”
“Actually, I wish I had completely mastered the mechanics of quantum entanglement so we could teleport our body particles over to Ireland right now!”
Rebels With a Cause Page 3
