“You don’t need physical space?” Nathan ventured.
The Professor smiled. “On the right track, as usual, Nathan, on the right track. Now let’s get to work. Over here, let me show you some data on the long-term stability tests.”
Stability tests eh? There’s only one reason the Prof would be running those, especially long-term. And that’s if instability was a threat. He wondered what would happen if the machine became unstable. Still, some of the greatest science breakthroughs had involved taking risks. No point being a girl about it; time to dive in, right?
Thinking about being a girl reminded him he hadn’t seen Sarina since the school holidays had started. He was sure she would have taken him to task immediately if he’d told her he was behaving like a ‘girl’. “Behaving like a ‘girl’, Nathan Goldberg”—she always used his full name when she was angry with him—“does NOT mean being a scaredy-cat. After all, wasn’t it a GIRL who saved us from disaster before? Anyway, if you really want to behave like a girl, you should wear a dress. Can I lend you one?” He could just imagine her mischievous grin as she held out a long, frilly number for him to wear. He smiled. He’d see her tomorrow, and despite the mutual teasing that usually occurred, he was looking forward to it. She’d said she would drop by on her way to some arty-malarkey retreat. He’d have to tell her about the Prof’s project of course—
“Nathan? Is everything alright. You seem to be drifting off a lot today?” The Professor was looking at him, his brawny arms folded across his chest.
Nathan awoke from his reverie. “Oh yes, nothing. I mean, I was away in my thoughts about the very idea of a ‘dream-collider’. So how stable is it, er ... exactly?”
Professor Harrison turned to the terminal next to him and ran his finger across the touch screen; scrolling the figures rapidly. “Over the last six years since ... since the accident, it’s been stable within acceptable parameters. There have been some spikes here and there, including a very sustained one a few weeks back, but nothing that would really affect anyone, unless”— he bent down to examine a particular row of figures on the screen, pausing the scroll to trace his finger across—“Hmm, odd.”
“What’s odd?” Nathan walked over to join the Professor and peered at the same row of figures, which meant nothing to him. He realised he’d need to do a lot more study of this machine and its function if it was going to help win him his science scholarship. He smiled as a name for his studies came to him. ‘The Goldberg Project’ did have a pretty neat ring to it.
The Professor grunted, deep in thought. “If ... Hmmm. If these spikes are to be believed, then we must have had a recent rem-particle event. But that would have been reported ...” He shrugged, then remembering Nathan, turned around with a smile. “It’s nothing, just an unusual spike in the numbers. Nathan, as I already said, these devices”—he tapped his headshield—“and the Faraday Cage built into this ‘cold-room’, would contain any spike. That’s why we take these precautions.”
“But I thought the collider was switched to standby mode?”
The Professors face dropped. “It is. That’s what that flashing orange LED on the side of the keypad denotes.” He pointed to the top of the machine. “What we have here, as Agent Blanchard might say, is a ‘containment situation’. We watch, monitor and investigate. This field of research is why kids like you are here in the first place, Nathan, and I’m not going to stop now. Not when we are on the verge of an incredible breakthrough. One that may well make a fundamental difference to all our lives. But safety is paramount. Especially if I’m to save us from—” He checked himself, as if he had said something he wished he hadn’t. His expression lightened, and his eyes twinkled at Nathan. “It’s just a guess, but with your own ‘dreaming skills’ and your apparent genius with maths and science, wouldn’t you want to be one of the scientists credited?”
Nathan’s jaw dropped. “You want me to be one of your ...”
“Research fellows? Yes. Absolutely. I can’t think of anyone more suited.”
Nathan grabbed Harrison’s massive hand and pumped it up and down. “Thank you, Professor, I don’t know what to say! I—”
“No need to breathe a word, Nathan. In fact, I’d prefer it that way if you please. Let’s keep this between you and me—and possibly Sarina when she drops by. She’s the most advanced dreamer we’ve ever discovered, and she may be the key to uncovering the power of the collider.”
Nathan’s thoughts again went to Sarina. The Prof’s mention of Agent Blanchard reminded him of the FBI’s involvement in their recent escapade, and the Prof had just made the connection in his head to what they were doing in this very room.
“Ah, Prof ... er, Kingsley, um, before, you mentioned something about a ‘rem-particle event’? What’s that? And when you said Agent Blanchard would have called it a ‘containment situation’, what would happen if it wasn’t ‘contained’, so to speak?”
“Ah, questions, questions. Always the questioner, eh, Nathan?”
Well that is the basic premise of good science, he thought, but decided to keep it to himself and waited for the Professor’s answer.
“I see that you won’t be satisfied until you have an answer. Tomorrow I’ll put your curiosity to the test and see if you can put two and two together. But for now, let me explain in brief why we need the device shielded.” The Professor sighed, and his brow creased as if remembering something painful. “If it wasn’t ‘contained’, then a possible spike could cause a rem-particle event, but suffice to say, as long as the collider is in here, and whoever is in its proximity is protected”—he gestured to their headshields—“then there is no risk.”
“Zero risk? Or just a very low probability?” Nathan frowned.
Harrison smiled. “A very, very low probability. Almost nil. And anyway, it could only possibly affect someone unprotected and even then, they would have to have an incredible sensitivity to rem-events—on a scale that we haven’t witnessed before.”
“And just to humour me, Professor, in the absolutely incredible and unlikely probability that it did happen and a rem-particle spike did affect someone, what do you think would happen? After all, sometimes planes do crash.”
The Professor looked back at Nathan with a gentle smile. “I think you are catastrophising, Nathan. To be honest, we don’t really know. Since the accident, we haven’t risked any full testing. Even at the time, it was only me, Malden and Agent Blanchard who had security access, so exposure has been limited. The reason I have taken the decision to include you now is because there comes a time when we must ...” He trailed off and looked over at the collider, blinking its reassurance. “... when we must make breakthroughs; knowing that if we don’t, we remain at risk.”
Nathan wondered what they were at risk of. He took a deep breath and let it out noisily. It was about time he put his concerns to one side and acted like a proper scientist, and even though he had no idea who ‘Malden’ was, now was not the time to ask. “Okay, maybe I’m overreacting. What’s our next step then?”
“Well,” the Professor pushed up his headshield slightly and scratched his head, “what I want to do is to ever-so-slightly advance the wave-factors and then run some tests with a suitable subject.”
“What tests? And what suitable subject? You don’t mean me do you?”
“Ah. I was hoping you’d volunteer, Nathan, good man. The tests don’t mean much at this stage. We just want to confirm the interrelationship with someone with strong dream-powers. Such as yourself. And what with you being an excellent scientist anyway ...” The Professor’s eyes were twinkling again.
Flattery will definitely get you places, Nathan thought. And still there was the sense that the Prof wasn’t telling him everything. “Okay. I’m in. I’ve lost count how many times scientists have been the subjects of their own experiments.” He shuddered as he remembered the old story of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde where a scientist—Jekyll—experimented on himself and accidentally turned himself into an evil murderer—
Mr Hyde—by night. Not a story that ended well. The thought prompted a question. “Tell me straight. When you say you ‘don’t really know’ what the side-effects of these might be, and since I’m to be a potential experimental subject, I think I deserve to know your best guess, don’t you?” He held the Professor’s gaze.
“Yes. You’re right, Nathan, you deserve that, at the very least.”
The Professor leaned back and rubbed the back of his neck. “At this point, all we’ve really seen from rem-particle spikes are black-outs in the subject. Only for a few minutes, then everything returns to normal.”
Nathan nodded. It didn’t sound so risky when you put it like that. He still had the slight tingle in the back of his neck warning him that the Professor may not have been completely straight with him. But what a machine! He looked again at the gleaming black cube. He’d have to find a way to make the project work, and at the same time, find a way to discover what the Professor wasn’t telling him. He couldn’t wait to tell Sarina about it when her saw her tomorrow. But for now, he’d spend the rest of the day getting stuck in. He grinned at the Prof.
“One guinea-pig, volunteering for duty, sir!”
~~~
Sarina was excited by the prospect of finally heading off to her art retreat, but she had one more thing to do before she set off. She had promised to visit Nathan and the Professor on the way through, and her mother had taken the opportunity to drop her off at the lab in the morning, while she went to gather supplies, drop the car back home and return by cab to pick up her up again.
Sarina stopped for a moment to gaze up at the modern building with its sleek black windows glinting in the morning sunshine, and obscuring the interior, then stepped through the automatic doors. The security guard ushered her through the security barrier and scanned her—twice—by having her step through a door-sized metal-ringed opening similar to those found at the airport. He led her to a sumptuous lounge area where she sank into a plush couch and waited. She wondered why the Professor’s lab building needed such extreme security measures, but dismissed the thought. Right now what she needed to do was forget all the palaver to do with ‘dream power’, parallel worlds, and a certain sadistic half-man, half-bird. But being back in the lab made that hard.
So instead, she thought about where she was going, immediately after catching up with Nathan and the Professor.
Her mother had arranged for the two of them to travel by train to a village a couple of hours away, where they had rented a quaint cottage overlooking green rolling hills. The best thing about it was the custom-built artist’s studio in the conservatory of the cottage. She drew in a deep breath as she thought of the serenity. A beautiful view, no TV, no radio, no internet, no mobile phone coverage; and plenty of time and space to paint. Peace and quiet. This year had been so stormy that she was really looking forward to spending some exclusive time on what she loved most. Art. She was hoping to be considered for an ‘invitation-only’ intake to the fine-arts school in Paris. She had her heart set on attending, but she would really need to hone her skills and tap into her deepest and most imaginative work, if she was to have any chance. Winning the Young Artist’s Breakthrough Competition would virtually assure her a place. Oh the glorious thought of it! Surrounded by skilful artists; inspiring mentors—and across the road, the Louvre, where she imagined she would spend dreamy hours wandering and soaking up the magnificence of the grand masters—
“I said, knock knock, anyone home?!” A familiar voice roused her from her dream-state.
“Oh! Sorry, Professor! I was day-dreaming. Miles away actually.”
The Professor smiled. “Maybe miles away, but you are in exactly the right place for day-dreaming.”
Sarina shot a dark look at the man. “Not your kind of day-dreaming, Professor.”
His eyes were doing their usual twinkling. “Really? What’s the difference?”
“When I day-dream of art, it’s ...” her eyes glazed, and she looked into the distance as she reconnected with her love, “it’s beautiful and inspiring; rich and wonderful.” She pulled herself back with difficulty and looked squarely at the Professor. “It’s not conjuring parallel worlds and unleashing magic powers.”
“Fair enough, Sarina.” The Professor sighed. “You have had more than your fair share of exposure to the more extreme elements of our dream-powers, I grant you that. But all-in-all, I don’t think we are too far apart. What both you and I are trying to do amounts to the same thing: To access the deepest, most exciting creative parts of our minds. Something we still don’t know much about.”
Sarina shook her head. “I don’t think so, Professor. Since I’ve had the time to think about this—and don’t get me wrong, I really appreciate what you did to help me and Nathan—but to me, it’s like watching something exciting on TV and trying to find out what happens next by taking the TV apart. Creativity and inspiration don’t work like that. You can’t just take them apart and see how they work. If you do that, you destroy them.”
“Lecturing Professor Harrison again, are we?” Nathan walked up, grinning.
“Hi, Nathan!” Sarina stood and hugged her friend. “Yes, I was getting on my high-horse again, I think.” She looked at the Professor. “Sorry, Professor. I’m so excited at the thought of finally getting to the finals of the competition that I don’t want anything to take away from it. Coming here ...” her face fell, “well, it reminds me of recent events.”
The Professor nodded. “Nothing to worry about, Sarina. Believe me, I cop a lot more flak from my so-called scientist colleagues who simply dismiss my work, so I know what it feels like to really believe in what you are doing, yet feel that no-one else understands. And, please call me Kingsley, I’ve been on about it enough. ‘Professor’ just makes me feel old.”
“You are ol—ah, I mean you are older than us,” Nathan winced at his lack of tact. “At school, we’re not supposed to call our teachers by their first name, so it’s just habit, er, Kingsley.” He turned to Sarina, who was trying not to laugh. “You’ve got your smile back at least. And you finally decided to grace us with your presence.”
Sarina poked her tongue out at him. “I already told you that I’d wait to pop by on my way to the country. The lab isn’t far from the railway station and Mum will come past and pick me up in a cab.”
“Where is your mum? A certain Agent Blanchard would be delighted to show her around, I’m sure!” Nathan grinned, then flinched when Sarina kicked his shin. “Ow! Sorry I spoke!”
“One day, Nathan Goldberg, you will tease someone too far. Mum just dropped me off here. She’s gone to get some supplies for our trip, take the car home and call the cab. She should be here in a few minutes.”
“Then, there’s no time to waste,” the Professor said, “come with us to the café and we’ll catch up. There’s someone who is absolutely busting to see you—her words not mine—so let’s go.”
The three of them headed down the corridor towards the lab’s own cafeteria and Sarina wondered who could possibly be ‘busting to meet her’. Nathan interrupted her thoughts as they walked side-by-side, following the Professor.
“So what’s this place in the country you’re going to with your Mum then? A holiday?”
“Yes and no. It will be more than a holiday really, much more. Mum’s organised a cute cottage in the country for a couple of weeks—but, Nathan, the best thing is it has a purpose-built art studio! It’s amazing! I’ll be able to paint for hours every day, no interruptions, just me and my canvas and ...” She trailed off remembering the strange eye on the canvas and her blackouts. Should she confide in Nathan about her fears and the family madness? She wasn’t sure he’d even understand, or maybe he’d think she needed to see a doctor. And no way was she going to let another horrible man like Timms rummage around in her brain. No way. This art retreat was not going to be stopped for anything.
“Sarina?” Nathan’s brow creased. “You OK? I thought this place was amazing, but now you look like you’re a
bout to head to Stratfords?”
“Bah! Don’t mention that name around me again! I hate that place. Anyway, I was only wondering if I would have enough canvases for my plans.” She forced a smile and resolved to change the subject. Nathan had just confirmed exactly why it was best to keep her concerns to herself. For now. “But that’s enough about me. What are you doing here anyway?”
Nathan’s eyes narrowed. “OK. Sorry I mentioned it. If there’s anything you need to talk about, then just get on the phone, or the internet, whatever.”
“Thanks. I mean it. But I forgot to tell you! You know the next best thing about this place Mum’s rented? No phone, no TV, no radio, no internet!” Sarina beamed at Nathan. “It’s perfect!”
Nathan stared at Sarina. “Yep. Perfect. Sure. My idea of a perfectly horrible holiday. How could anyone even think about not having the internet?”
Sarina stuck her tongue out at him. “You are such a geek. But you still haven’t answered my question. What exactly are you doing here?”
Nathan leaned towards her and lowered his voice. “Can’t really talk about it in the corridor. Or in public really. Wait until it’s just the two of us in private and I’ll fill you in. It’s really amazing. More than amazing. Big. I think it could be the answer to my scholarship project. I feel like great-great-grandpa Rosen is taking a personal interest in my future.” He grabbed her arm, his eyes sparkling, “Sarina, you should see this—” but he was cut off by a small ball of girl energy that rushed past the Professor and was now jumping up and down in front of Sarina.
“Yes! Yes! You came! Professor Harrison said you would! Oh goody! I’m so excited to meet you!” The dark-haired girl flung herself at Sarina and grabbed tightly.
The Professor had already stopped and turned, laughing at the scene happening behind him. “I see you’ve already introduced yourself!”
The girl disengaged from Sarina and looked up at her, solemn-faced. “Sorry, Daddy. Shall I try again?”
The Dreamer Chronicles Trilogy Boxed Set Vol I - III: A Sci-Fi Parallel Universe Adventure (The Dreamer Chronicles - Science Fiction For Kids And Adults) Page 27