by Kate Norris
“It was Luigi Galvani’s work with ‘animal electricity,’” Mama continued, “that led Volta to discover the electrochemical series—”
“I’m sorry, I’m a bit confused,” one of the military men interrupted briskly. “You’re having these girls build some kind of battery? I’m not sure that’s a suitable—”
“If you have a question, I’m afraid I’ll need you to raise your hand first,” Mama said, cutting him off, “and the only question I entertain in the middle of a lecture is ‘May I use the restroom.’ But don’t worry—the answer is always yes.”
A couple of the girls tittered. Winnie stole a glance back over her shoulder and saw the officer frowning while he jotted down a few vicious notes, but he kept his mouth shut. Next to him, the other officer—a younger, lanky man whose air of authority belied his age—was leaning back, smirking. There was something frightening in the expression.
Although it was thrilling to see Mama stand up to those Nightingale men, Winnie wished she would keep her mouth shut. These seemed like dangerous men to disrespect.
“Thank you,” Mama said, continuing with her lecture. “Now, as I was saying, Volta’s law of electrochemical series led to the invention of the voltaic pile, an early electric battery that operates by the same principle as the batteries we’ll be constructing today.”
She explained the setup of the experiment and what data they would be required to record, then set them loose to begin work with their lab partners while she circulated around the class, helping those students who needed it.
Winnie was working with one of her double’s friends, so she had to conceal the fact that she could construct a voltaic cell in her sleep.
“Which metals do you think we should use?” Winnie asked, pretending to skim through the experiment parameters in her lab manual, although she knew very well that silver and zinc would produce the highest charge.
“What? You usually seem to have all the answers ahead of time,” the girl sighed.
Shoot.
“Oh, um,” Winnie said. “Not today. Say, how about we try silver and zinc? I’ll go grab some.”
Winnie hadn’t thought about how close she would have to pass by Hawthorn to get to the equipment closet in the back of the classroom. She kept her head down, eyes trained on the ground, so she was taken completely by surprise when Hawthorn reached out and grabbed her wrist.
She made a little squeak of alarm and pulled her arm away.
“My, my, my, what happened to you, Ms. Schulde?”
Winnie’s breath quickened, and Hawthorn’s smile spread, like it fed on her discomfort. There seemed be an extra edge to him now. Was it a difference between Hawthorn here and the one back home? Or was he unraveling—something to do with James’s death, perhaps?
He reached his hand out toward the cut on her forehead. Winnie trembled in revulsion, anticipating his touch, but she was frozen in place. Thankfully, Mama hurried up and slapped Hawthorn’s hand away before he made any further contact.
“Get out of my classroom,” she said. “Now.”
“Ma’am,” the older officer said, “you assured us that there was no way your students were involved with whatever happened in that gym, or with that ship. We’re here to make sure that’s the case.”
“Really? You think schoolgirls dropped a warship outside Bloomingdale’s? The three of you don’t have anything better to do?” Mama shook her head in disgust. “I guess the real soldiers are on the front lines.”
Winnie was astonished by Mama’s audacity. She was afraid for her, but also impressed.
The younger of the two military men didn’t so much as twitch, but his entire face went beet red in fury. Winnie watched in paralyzed fascination as the florid color crept over his face, feeling like a rodent captivated by the cobra that was about to swallow it whole.
Winnie was keenly aware that every eye in the classroom was on them.
Hawthorn laid a quelling hand on the young man’s forearm.
“Let me speak with Ms. Schulde for a moment, then we can go.”
Mama opened her mouth to protest, but the older officer cut her off. “Let him speak to her now, alone,” he said, “or we can take both of you in to headquarters after class and have a chat there.”
Winnie had a sinking feeling that if she ever set foot in Nightingale’s headquarters, she wouldn’t be allowed to leave after.
“It’ll be easier if I just talk to him now, Mama. I’ll be okay.”
Then Hawthorn took her by the elbow—such a gentleman— and led her away.
* * *
• • •
Hawthorn brought her out into the hall, careful to move away from the classroom door so no one could spy through the window.
If she cried out, Mama would be there in a moment, Winnie reminded herself, trying to keep terror at bay.
Of course, Hawthorn wouldn’t do anything awful to her. Not there, at school.
But she had no doubt that if he wanted, he could have those officers arrest her.
And Mama.
They’d be able to do whatever they wanted to her and Mama then.
She wondered what was keeping him from doing it.
“You didn’t call,” Hawthorn said.
Winnie had hated him before she even had reason to hate him—from their first meeting at his party, when he had been playacting the genial host. How she hated him now! And what a blessing that hatred was. It helped drown her fear to nothing more than a dull roar.
“Things didn’t go as planned,” she said tightly.
She needed him to think she was the other Winnie, at least until she came up with a better plan. If Hawthorn still had hope of getting his hands on her, it would buy her some time.
“Your father said something this morning about a car accident. How terrible,” he said dryly. “I take it the girl got away?”
Winnie nodded.
“Ms. Schulde?”
“Yes?”
“I hope you know I meant what I said. I’ve always liked Scott. But that won’t stop me.”
Winnie’s stomach flopped, and she tried to bury that fear under a wave of authentic indignation. “Just look at me! Obviously, I tried.”
“I didn’t ask you to ‘try.’ I told you to get the girl,” he said viciously. Then his nastiness was gone in a flash, replaced by a subtler one. “I miss James—he was such an asset to me, and so eager to prove himself.” He paused a moment. “Did you know that some people thought he and Scott were lovers?”
“People should mind their own business.”
“Maybe, but they don’t. I wonder . . . do you think that’s why Scott did it?”
Homosexual Student Slays Secret Lover—it was exactly the sort of salacious thing people would be dying to believe, and the worst kind of papers would love to print. Winnie was confident that Hawthorn would have some contrived hard evidence to back it up too.
“I’m not playing this game with you,” Winnie said, straining to display a confidence she didn’t really feel. “I know you aren’t going to get Scott arrested.”
“Oh?”
“At least not yet. You still want her, right? I can get her for you.”
He was silent for a moment, lips pursed, thinking.
“Fine,” he said at last. “Bring her to me within twenty-four hours. If you don’t, I go to the police. No more second chances.”
“What are you going to do with her?” Winnie whispered.
She asked without thinking. Probably he wouldn’t answer. Probably it would be better not to know.
“I’m not going to hurt her,” he said with an irritated sigh, “if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“You hurt James.”
“I didn’t hurt James. Experiments mean risk. James understood that. But I know more now. The serum doesn’t work—but th
at doesn’t matter. I won’t need it anymore. I’ll have her.”
If only she really were as powerful as Hawthorn seemed to think she was.
Unless . . . maybe Hawthorn knew something they didn’t—something that would help her get home. Or maybe he was crazy. His voice had that feverish inflection Father’s used to get sometimes during their night experiments. Father had always thought he was a hairsbreadth away from a breakthrough. But they’d never made any progress at all.
“Your parents,” Hawthorn continued, “they really don’t know anything, do they?”
“No, they don’t,” Winnie answered quickly.
“You do realize what that means, don’t you? If they get wrapped up in this, they’ll have nothing to bargain with. And, Ms. Schulde? I know that this ability of yours—yes, dormant or not, you have it—is genetic. So, if you can’t find your double, don’t worry. I could always use your mother. Do you have any idea how easy it would be to convince people your mother and father are German spies? Who would care what happened to them then?”
Winnie opened her mouth to protest, but Hawthorn turned back to the classroom, pulled open the door, and called for his men.
“Oh, and I apologize for bringing my dogs,” Hawthorn murmured slyly. “I promise they’re well-trained. Mostly.”
As soon as the three men walked down the hall and turned the corner, Winnie rushed to the bathroom. She flung the first stall door open, knelt down, and vomited up every last bit of her lunch.
She and Scott had one day.
. . . but a day to do what?
To get her home?
Or to figure out a way for her to safely stay?
* * *
• • •
As soon as Winnie reentered the classroom, she set off a flurry of whispers among her classmates. Some seemed excited by all the drama, but others looked worried or scared.
“Back to work, girls,” Mama said sharply.
She pulled Winnie back into the materials closet, leaving the door just barely ajar.
“Are you all right, darling?” Mama asked softly. “Damn those Hosenscheißer! They think they can come bully us here, in my own classroom. Well, let them just wait until Papa finds out.”
“Don’t tell him,” Winnie said, “please.”
Hawthorn had already threatened their family.
She would keep Mama, and Father, and Scott, and Dora all safe—somehow.
Mama grabbed her hand and pressed her fingers reassuringly. “I don’t want you worrying about all this. Just leave it to me and your father.”
In a way, she should be grateful that Hawthorn and his “dogs” had paid her a visit. She understood the stakes more clearly than ever. But she needed Mama to understand them too.
“Eight minutes,” Winnie said.
Mama gave her a questioning look.
“Don’t you remember the headlines? Those men convicted of being German agents? They said it took them eight minutes on the electric chair to die.”
Mama pulled her into a hug. “Shh,” she whispered. “Papa will be fine—we all will.”
Winnie knew the embrace was meant to be reassuring, but Mama was holding her too tight—she could feel the trembling in Mama’s arms.
Winnie was certain of one thing. She would do anything to make sure Hawthorn didn’t get his hands on Mama—even if it meant surrendering to him herself.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
When Winnie and Mama arrived home that evening, Scott was waiting for them on the stoop. He had a bundle of equipment next to him, including wood and chicken wire, which Winnie recognized as the disassembled remnants of their Faraday cage.
“Now isn’t the best time,” Mama said briskly. She jutted her chin at the pile of materials. “What’s that?”
“Something I’m working on for class. Professor Schulde’ll be late tonight—staff meeting—but he said I could use the lab, and I was hoping to get started on this.”
“Oh. All right—but Winnie needs to rest.”
Mama unlocked the front door, and Winnie and Scott followed her inside.
Scott gave Winnie a meaningful look and gentle nudge while Mama’s back was turned.
“I’m not tired,” Winnie lied. “Can’t I please help Scott in the lab for a bit before dinner?”
Mama frowned. “Winnie—”
“Please?”
She sighed, then shook her head and cracked a reluctant smile. “I suppose I do remember being your age. Just don’t tire yourself out too much, all right?” She fixed Scott with a stern look. “I’m thinking she ‘helps’ by sitting down there and chatting while you work.”
Scott grinned. “More than fair.”
As soon as Mama turned away and headed upstairs, his grin faded.
“Let’s head down to the lab,” Scott said softly. “We have a lot to talk about.”
They certainly did.
* * *
• • •
Even though Winnie still felt a flutter of anxiety about touching Father’s things without permission, she rolled his upholstered chair over to the lab bench and sank down into it. Her head throbbed, and she felt like crying. Not even about anything in particular. Just about everything—from the sheer exhaustion of it all. She felt like a sad old pencil sharpened down to the nub, beyond any practical purpose.
“Hawthorn showed up at school today. He says I have one day to turn over my double.”
Scott squinted at her suspiciously.
“You’re thinking of turning yourself in. Aren’t you?”
“He threatened you. He threatened Mama and Winnie’s father. He showed up with officers, so I’d know he means business and has government backup. Obviously, I don’t want to give myself over to him. But I will, if we can’t come up with a better plan.” She gestured to the cage he’d begun to reconstruct. “You obviously mean to try our experiment again. You should know that if it works, and I vanish, Hawthorn will make good on his threats.”
The fate of her Scott still hung in the balance. But if she ran away now, what would happen to Mama and this Scott? How could she leave them in such danger?
“I’m not afraid of Hawthorn,” Scott said harshly.
“Well, thanks—that terrifies me! You should be afraid of Hawthorn. He already killed James. What are you going to do—tell the police? You really think they would believe you over him? He has military officers at his beck and call.”
“Hawthorn isn’t petty—he’s practical. Ruthlessly so. If—when—our experiment works, well, then I’ve witnessed a successful attempt to travel between worlds. Hell, I’m the one who designed the experiment. I’ll be valuable to him. There won’t be any reason for him to want me behind bars.”
Winnie thought for a moment. It wasn’t exactly a guarantee that everyone in her wake would be all right—but it wasn’t the certain doom she’d been afraid of either.
“What about Mama, though?”
“I’ve been working for Dr. Schulde for three years now, so I’ve known Mrs. Schulde for that long. Winnie, I promise you she’s a woman who knows how to look after herself. And Dr. Schulde will do anything to protect her.”
“But not knowing what’s going on puts them at risk. We could just tell them everything. There haven’t been any weird occurrences since Winnie . . . now that she’s gone. I could stay. We could all work together, figure out what to do about Hawthorn, and keep each other safe.”
Scott walked around the lab bench and crouched down in front of her. He took both her hands in his.
“Do you really think you staying here makes your mother safer?”
No. She knew it didn’t. Her being there made Mama another piece of leverage for Hawthorn.
She shook her head.
“I need you to leave. I don’t know how else to say this. I look at you, and I see her. I need you
safe . . . but I also need you gone. Winnie, I’m begging you—please, just try.”
When she met his eyes, staring up at her own so intensely, she knew.
She loved him.
And not because she looked at him and saw her Scott.
The feeling didn’t replace what she felt for her own Scott either, but lived in uneasy cohabitation with it in her heart.
She didn’t want to leave him.
She didn’t want to leave Mama. How could she, when she had no idea what might be waiting for her on the other side?
But she could see the suffering naked on his face. She’d done that to him, and he was begging her to go.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll try.”
Scott stood back up. “Good,” he said firmly, and gave his wet cheeks an impatient swipe. “We’d better get to work.”
* * *
• • •
Scott got out his notebook and explained the plan he’d come up with.
“The main problem is figuring out how to make our experiment work in such a small space. Exploding a generator just isn’t an option down here. Even if we were resigned to destroying Dr. Schulde’s lab, it wouldn’t be safe—there’s shrapnel to worry about. So, how do we get a high enough atmospheric charge without blowing anything up? Straightaway, I realized the best way would be to discharge a high-voltage capacitor in water. Capacitors are common and cheap, and if the voltage is high enough, they can give us the discharge we need.”
Winnie nodded. The plan seemed solid so far—not as close to the events of her first trip as their original experiment, but a more elegant experiment design, in its own way.
Still, she needed to make sure it would be safe for her, and more important, for Scott.
“How do we get the capacitor into the water without shocking ourselves?” she asked.
Scott smiled at the question. “Good! Yes, that was the second problem. The safest thing is for it to drop while we’re both in the Faraday cage—but how? We need some mechanism we can set in motion that will give us time to get into the Faraday cage before dropping and discharging the capacitor.