“He invented those?” asked Rowan.
“Well, he’s not the first to invent automatic vacuum cleaners,” I admitted. “But he’s the first to design a system that manages a whole office building.”
We caught up with the rest of the group as they reached a set of glass security doors. A guard I didn’t recognize sat at a desk on the other side. He reached under his desk and buzzed us in.
BUZZZZ-KLAK!
Once we were through the doors, we crossed the small entryway toward another closed door. Mr. Smith used a key card to open it and stepped to the side as we filed through.
We entered a dimly lit room with five computer consoles lined up against a large glass window. Through the window was a larger, brightly lit room full of huge printers, etchers, and drillers. Long conveyor belts connected the machines to each other. A steady hum emanated from the huge, boxlike equipment.
“All right, gang,” said Mr. Smith. “As many of you may know, you give me your board designs, I plug them into the computer, and then the machines over there spit them out. And be advised that I’m well aware that that is an oversimplified description of the process.”
The group laughed.
“Now, is this anyone’s first time?”
The group glanced around and Rowan tentatively raised his hand. Mr. Smith waved him over to the window and pointed out each piece of equipment. He showed him the huge screen printers that printed out the designs, the etchers that etched the circuit onto the board, and the driller that made precision holes into each board where needed.
“All right,” said Mr. Smith. “Who’s first?”
Jacob Mahaley stepped forward and held out a thumb drive.
“Good to see you again, Jake,” said Mr. Smith. “If you like, I can double-check your circuit designs to see you don’t have any shorts or broken connections.”
“Yes, please,” Jacob replied.
I’m sure not all of the company employees enjoyed working with kids, but Mr. Smith seemed to. Not only did he come to our school to give talks on circuitry, but he had also printed circuit boards for many of the students in the past.
While Jacob’s circuit appeared on the computer screen, Rowan let out a long breath.
“I know this isn’t the most exciting part of the company,” I said. “But it’s very helpful.”
“What do you mean?” asked Rowan.
“Let me show you,” I said revealingly, sliding off my backpack.
I unzipped my pack and removed one of the plastic, static-free envelopes. I opened it and slid out my alarm clock circuit board. It was fifteen by thirty centimeters, about the size of a clipboard.
“This is the circuit board for my alarm clock,” I explained. “I made it at home.”
“You made this yourself?” asked Rowan.
“With my dad, yeah,” I replied. “It’s not that hard.”
I plugged in a battery and hit the power switch. A small LCD screen came to life.
“That’s so cool that you made this,” said Rowan.
“Thanks,” I replied. “Now here’s what happens when the alarm goes off.”
I pressed the button that simulated the alarm, and a mathematical equation appeared on the left side of the screen. Three answers appeared on the right. There was a button on the circuit board beside each answer.
“ ‘What’s twelve times four?’ ” Rowan read. “That’s not so hard.”
“Right,” I said, pressing the button next to the answer: forty-eight. “But the next two equations get harder, to make sure you’re awake.”
The next equation appeared. It asked for the square root of 1,764.
“Wow,” said Rowan. “What happens when you get a wrong answer?”
I shrugged. “You have to start all over again.”
“I bet you’re awake by then,” said Rowan.
I held up the board. “The point is, picture this circuit board in an alarm clock.”
“That’s a big clock,” said Rowan.
“Right,” I replied. “Well, with the machines here, I can create one that’s only about five by fifteen centimeters.”
Rowan wrinkled his brow. “How big is that?”
I laughed. “About two by six inches.”
Understanding crossed Rowan’s face. “Oh. Cool!”
We waited in line while the rest of the group printed their boards. When it was my turn, I dug out my own thumb drive and handed it to Mr. Smith.
“How many today, Tom?” he asked with a grin.
I smiled. “Only four this time,” I replied. “I was just showing Rowan a prototype I made at home.” I turned around and Rowan was no longer standing behind me. “Rowan?” I scanned the room.
He was gone.
6 The Isolation Activation
I STEPPED OUT OF THE lab and scanned the entryway. Rowan wasn’t in sight. Neither was the security guard. My stomach tightened. Maybe he got in trouble somehow and was snatched up by the guard. I knew that Rowan was supposed to be watching me, but being older, I felt responsible for him.
I pushed through the glass doors. Luckily, they weren’t locked if anyone needed to get out.
“Rowan?” I shouted as I jogged down the empty hallway. With most of the staff either gone for the day or helping the students, I didn’t have to worry about disturbing anyone’s work. “Rowan?”
Another B-bot exited the wall and quietly rolled past me. Since I hadn’t blocked its path, it ignored me as it worked.
I retraced our steps, heading for the elevator. Maybe Rowan tried to find something more exciting than printing circuit boards. I slowed, opening a few doors along the way. Empty offices and cubicle bays stared back at me. Rowan was nowhere in sight.
I tried a few more before turning a corner. Then several feet down the corridor, I spotted a door ajar.
“Rowan?” I called out.
I thought I heard an answer but it seemed faint and distant. As I moved closer and peeked through the open door, I realized why.
I pulled open the door to one of the anechoic chambers. The room had spherical walls so it was like standing in a large ball. It also had long foam pyramids covering the walls, ceiling, and most of the floor. The soft black spikes made it feel as if you were standing inside a giant cactus turned inside out. Rowan stood in the center of the room.
“Is this cool, or what?” he asked. Although there was excitement in his voice, the tone sounded muted. “What is this place?”
“It’s called an anechoic chamber. My father helped design it. It’s made to deaden sound,” I replied, my voice coming out dull and muffled. I pointed to the ceiling. “The foam spikes absorb noise so none of it bounces off the walls or ceiling. There’s no echo at all. They use it to test microphones, speakers, stuff like that.”
“That’s why my voice sounds so weird,” he said as he gazed above. Then he gave a loud “Whoooop!” Although his volume was louder, his voice was a little flat. He giggled.
I felt a pang of guilt. It wasn’t Rowan’s fault that his father had made him tag along with me today. And it certainly wasn’t his fault that I had chosen a boring project for the lock-in. Well, boring to most people, anyway. My dad’s company was way more exciting than what I’d shown him so far. If a simple sound lab impressed him, he would love some of the other things going on around here.
“Come on,” I said. “It’s time I gave you a tour of Swift Enterprises.”
I knew just the place to start. We hit the elevator and went down a couple of floors. When we got out, I led the way down the long corridor. Rowan was fascinated by another B-bot going about its duties.
We turned a corner and entered the suite housing Swift Enterprises’ two electron microscopes. A group of students gathered around Dr. Reynolds. The woman wore a white lab coat and sat in front of a large video monitor. The image on the screen made it look as if the students were watching a science fiction movie. There was a ghastly alien creature that looked like a giant worm, with eight stubby legs near
the front of its body. It had no eyes and a clawlike mouth.
“What is that?” Rowan asked as we joined the other students.
Dr. Reynolds pointed at the monitor. “This handsome fella is a microscopic Demodex mite.” She nodded at Alicia Wilkes, who was standing in the center of the group. “It’s from one of Alicia’s skin scrapings.”
Rowan’s eyes widened and he took a step back as if she were contagious. The other students laughed.
Dr. Reynolds smiled. “Don’t worry. You have them too,” she said, pointing to Rowan. “We all do. They live on our faces.” She blew a loose strand of dark hair from her face. “I didn’t really have time for my research and to prepare something for this lock-in, so… I thought I’d let you bring the specimens to me.”
Dr. Reynolds went on to explain how these mites don’t actually poop, but save it all up until they die. Pretty gross, but Rowan was enthralled.
We left the group to continue their weird microscopic journey and headed down to one of the company’s fabrication shops. The huge room was filled with every kind of industrial machine that chopped, welded, grinded, cut, and fused. The air was warm and thick with metallic odors.
We joined a group of students in one of the observation bays. They stood behind specially shielded glass as automated welders assembled various angled aluminum pipes.
“What’s that?” asked Rowan.
One of the older students, Jim Mills, turned around and grinned. “It’s going to be a roll cage.”
Roll cages were the protective cages used on race cars and dune buggies. They protected the driver in case the vehicle were to roll over—hence the name.
Curiosity got the better of me. “What for?” I asked him.
Jim shook his head. “You’ll find out at the next invention convention,” he replied. Then he thought for a moment. “Or… maybe the one after that.”
Mr. Edge hosted a showcase every month where students could show off their latest invention. Even though most students happily shared their discoveries, there were a few who liked to keep inventions under wraps until the big unveiling.
I was going to explain all this to Rowan, but when I turned around, he had disappeared again. Honestly, the kid needed a tracking device or something.
Luckily, I quickly caught sight of him this time. He was with a group on the other side of the shop. They stood behind a clear plastic panel and watched Mr. Adams give a demonstration using the company’s hydraulic press. I joined them and smiled when I saw Rowan’s eyes widen with amazement. Now he’d be ready if anyone ever asked him how much pressure it takes to crush a bowling ball. People get that question all the time, right?
Three hundred fifty kilonewtons, by the way.
There was a crackling sound overhead. “Attention,” Mr. Brodigan’s voice said from the building’s PA system. “Is this on? Oh, okay.” He cleared his throat. “Attention, everyone. The pizza’s here! So make your way to the cafeteria. And security folks… come grab a couple of slices too. There’s plenty for everyone.”
We joined the herd of hungry kids as they made their way out of the shop and into the elevators. We rode up to the fourth floor and filed into the cafeteria with everyone else. The air was filled with the smell of every kind of pizza and the sound of excited students.
Rowan and I grabbed a couple of slices from the long table loaded with pizza boxes, and we snaked our way through the crowded hall to find my friends. We found Amy and Otis first.
“Hi, Amy! Hi, Otis!” Rowan said with his mouth full. He was already working on his second slice. He reached out and gently stroked the tiny Chihuahua’s head. “Can he have some pizza?”
“Maybe just a tiny piece of cheese,” Amy replied.
Rowan pulled off a small piece of cheese and held it out to Otis. The dog gave it a single sniff before snapping it up.
“How’s your project going?” I asked.
“I printed most of the components,” she replied. “I have to assemble them next.” She scratched the dog behind the ears. “I’m going to start with Otis’s cart.”
“I bet he can’t wait,” I said.
Amy smiled. “Me either!” She glanced around. “Do you think I can take this pizza back with me?” she asked. “I want to hurry and get started.”
I shrugged. “Sure, if you want.” For all the times I’ve visited my dad’s company, I didn’t know them to have a food-in-the-cafeteria-only policy.
“Excellent idea,” Sam said as she walked up with a paper plate of her own. She had her hair pulled into a ponytail and still wore her prescription sports goggles. “I’m so close to beating my top speed.”
“Which is?” I asked.
“Forty-one KPH,” she said proudly.
“Nice,” I said, giving her a fist bump. I turned to see Rowan looking up at me, confused. “Around twenty-six miles per hour,” I explained.
“Oh,” said Rowan. “Do you think I can try out the skates on the track?”
Sam ruffled his hair. “Sure. You’re a natural.” She glanced at me and grinned.
“We’ll come by later,” said Rowan. “Tom’s showing me the whole place!”
“Okay, see you then,” said Sam. She and Amy pushed through the crowd toward the door.
“Was it something I said?” Noah asked as he walked up with his own plate. “Do I smell? I’m not the one doing time trials around the track all afternoon.”
Sam shook her head and Amy waved him away as they disappeared into the crowd.
“Man, I may have to eat on the run too,” Noah said between bites. “I’m not even halfway finished.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe this was my big lock-in project. It’s starting to get boring, dude.”
“I was going to ask how it was going, but…” Rowan pulled at my shirtsleeve.
“Can I get some more pizza?” he asked.
“You don’t have to ask me,” I said. “Have as much as you like.”
“Thanks,” Rowan said, and headed back toward the pizza table.
When he was far enough away, Noah elbowed my arm. “How’s it going with you-know-who?”
“Not bad, actually,” I replied. “He’s a good kid.”
I was surprised at how much fun I was having. It had been cool seeing everything through Rowan’s eyes. I’d been there so many times that part of me forgot how amazing the place was.
“That’s great,” said Noah. “Because you should’ve seen your face when you walked into class with him this morning.” He made an exaggerated frown. “You were all like, ‘You guys go have fun, I’ll just drag this kid around all day.’ ”
“I didn’t say that,” I said. I couldn’t help but laugh at his stretched face.
“It was in the eyes, dude,” Noah said. “All in your eyes. They were saying…” He pouted his lips. “I’m Tom Swift the inventor! Not Tom Swift the babysitter.”
I laughed even harder. “Dude, that’s not even…”
I stopped laughing when I spotted Rowan standing there, mouth open.
“Oh man,” Noah whispered. “Rowan, I was just kidding around.”
The boy spun around, tossed his plate onto a nearby table, and ran into the crowd.
“Rowan!” I shouted as I took off after him.
“Sorry,” Noah called after us, but I didn’t stop.
Rowan had a big head start. He was smaller and could zigzag through the pack much easier than I could. I just caught a glimpse of him as he exited the cafeteria and disappeared.
I finally made my way out of the crowd and into the hallway. I turned left and sprinted down the empty corridor. I hopped over a B-bot and turned the corner. Rowan was nowhere to be found. The only sign that anyone had come that way was the loud clack of a closing door. I ran to the door and flung it open. Rows of offices and cubicles spread out before me.
“Rowan?” I called as I stepped inside.
I moved deeper into the abandoned area and listened. The only sound was the door shutting behind me.
&nbs
p; “Rowan?” I called again. “You in here?”
“I’m doing a job, you know,” came his voice from the other end of the room. “I’m helping my dad. You’re not babysitting me.” He sounded as if he was ducked down behind one of the cubicles.
“Look, Noah was just joking,” I explained. “He…”
“Warning. Warning.” A woman’s automated voice boomed through the PA system. “Quarantine lockdown in effect.”
Rowan’s head poked out from behind the last cubicle. “What’s that mean?”
I glanced around. “I don’t know.” I had never heard that voice before.
“Quarantine lockdown in effect,” the voice repeated.
CLACK!
The loud noise came from the entry. I ran back to it and tried the handle. It wouldn’t budge. I jogged down the cubicle bay to the other exit. I grabbed the handle with both hands and tried to turn it. It wouldn’t move no matter how hard I tried.
We were locked in.
7 The Adherence Disappearance
ROWAN RATTLED THE DOOR HANDLE again. “It won’t open,” he repeated for the third time. Each was more frantic than the last.
“It’ll be okay,” I said. “I’m sure it won’t be for long.”
“How do you know?” he asked. “Does this happen a lot?”
“Well, no,” I replied. “Not that I know of.”
Honestly, I didn’t even know the building could go into lockdown, much less a quarantine. I didn’t even know that the company had any kind of contagious… anything. I knew my dad worked on some top secret stuff, but never anything like that. Now I was beginning to worry.
I went to the nearest cubicle and tried the phone. I pressed different line buttons and dialed zero but nothing happened. I tried the next cubicle—same thing.
That was strange. I got why all the doors had to be locked for a quarantine. If there was some kind of contamination, locking down all the office sections was the safest way to keep it from spreading. That didn’t explain why the phones didn’t work. You couldn’t catch a disease through a phone line.
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