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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 focused 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.
