Quicksilver (24 page)

Dad’s response was shorter.

–Stay safe and keep in touch. We’ll talk when you get home.

Which would have sounded positive, except that I knew “we’ll talk” was Dad Code for “You’re in big trouble, young lady.” But the important thing was, my parents knew I was alive and well—which was a lot more reassurance than I’d given them the last time I disappeared.

I just hoped this plan of Sebastian’s would work. Or else the next time I went missing, it really would be the last.

Sebastian paid the waitress—in cash—and we headed back out to the truck. The sun was low in the sky now, casting long shadows through the trees and streaking the rocks with gold. The air smelled crisp and earthy. I breathed in slowly, savoring the wildness of it, and was surprised by a stab of homesickness—not for the south where I lived now, but for the north I’d left behind. I hadn’t thought I’d feel that way, after being trapped in one place so long. Maybe it hadn’t been quite so easy to pull up my roots as I’d thought.

Or maybe it was just the untamed beauty of the landscape that made me hurt inside, because it reminded me of what I’d always wanted and was afraid I’d never have—a life that was simple and honest and free.

Milo offered me the front seat again, and I took it without argument. According to the directions, we only had an hour and a half left to drive anyway. But when Sebastian returned from the back of the truck with a handheld CB radio, gave it to me, and said, “Channel 23. Once we get into the park, you’ll need to call out our direction and location every kilometer so the logging trucks don’t run over us,” I realized that we were heading into some seriously remote territory. Places where only loggers and hard-core wilderness trippers ever went, and if we broke down, there’d be no handy tow truck or passing Good Samaritan to help us out.

In fact, once we turned off the highway, it quickly became clear that there would be no passing anything, period. The road was gravel and dirt, deeply rutted, and not much wider than the truck. We bumped along in silence for several kilometers, until we reached a closed gate with a warning sign beside it reading NO ENTRY. ROAD CLOSED TO UNAUTHORIZED VEHICLES.

“Now what?” asked Milo, but Sebastian merely shifted into park and jumped out to open the gate. He climbed up into the truck bed to check on the transceiver, making sure the straps that anchored it were holding and that the padding was still in place. Then he got back in and we started off again.

“Now would be a good time to start calling out our location,” Sebastian told me, so I picked up the CB and spoke. “Black Chevy Silverado heading east at the two-kilometer mark. Over.”

“This is amazing,” breathed Milo, draping his elbows over the back of the seat and resting his chin on his wrist. “I bet we see moose. Maybe even a bear.”

“Moose are good eating,” I said. “Bears are just a nuisance. Move to Sudbury, and in a few weeks, you’ll be sick of them.”

“You have no soul,” said Milo reproachfully, but I could see he’d recovered his good humor. Either the meal had lifted his spirits, or he’d finally got over the shock of finding that his pretend girlfriend was even more pretend than he’d thought. “So what’s the deal with building a giant antenna in the middle of nowhere? Was it some kind of secret military project or what?”

“Nothing so exciting,” said Sebastian. “They just wanted to avoid radio interference. Niki, you’ve missed another mark.”

This was getting tedious. I raised the CB to my mouth and called out our location again, this time in my chirpiest shopping-channel voice, which made Milo snicker. At the next mark I did it in broad Cockney and the one after that in a southern drawl—I figured if the loggers had to listen to me babble the same message thirty-eight times, the least I could do was give them some variety. By the time I’d worked my way through Bored Hipster Girl, Scottish Lassie, and Indian Telemarketer, Milo was wheezing with laughter. But Sebastian didn’t even crack a smile. His shoulders were hunched, hands tight on the wheel.

Nervous driver? He hadn’t seemed that way before, but I suppose this part of the trip would be a challenge for anyone. With each passing kilometer the trees grew thicker and the swamps and lakes rose higher, so close to the road in places that a single rainstorm could have washed it out. And when I glimpsed a clear-cut patch in the bush and saw an enormous logging truck rumbling toward us, I realized just how vital that radio really was. If the driver had started off any earlier or been moving any faster, he’d have smashed us to bits.

Suddenly playing with the CB didn’t seem like a game anymore. I called out our location one last time and handed it off to Milo.

The shadows deepened as we drove on, clouds flocking in from the east to darken the sky ahead. Sebastian switched on the headlights, but with so many sharp corners in the road, even high beams made little difference. Then a pair of luminous eyes shone out from the underbrush—and something galloped right in front of us. Milo yelled and Sebastian slammed on the brakes, but too late. The wheels went over it with a soft, sickening thump, and we nearly skidded off the road before Sebastian wrenched the truck back on course.

“What was that?” I gasped, twisting to look behind us. But the darkness in our wake was too thick.

“Raccoon, I think,” said Milo, sounding equally shaken. “What is it with those guys, anyway? I thought they were supposed to be clever.”

Sebastian didn’t reply. His expression was bleak, his eyes narrow, and his mouth a thin line. “You okay?” I asked him.

“Fine,” he said shortly, but I didn’t have to be Alison to know that was a lie. I watched him, my uneasiness growing. Sebastian had been driving for seven and a half hours, and I was willing to bet he hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in the last seventy-two. How much longer could he go on before he collapsed?

Fortunately, it was only three more marks before we spotted the yellow light pulsing out from the trees ahead, and our beams flashed over a sign reading MAGNUS LAKE RADIO OBSERVATORY. The crossroads offered us a choice of two gates, one chained shut and one angled half-open.

“It’s too late to go to the antenna tonight,” said Sebastian, before I could ask. “It’ll take at least a couple of hours to set up our transceiver and connect it to the existing hardware, and we can’t send the signal until tomorrow in any case.” He steered the truck through the open gate, onto the paved laneway beyond. “We’d better check in at the bunkhouse. Dr. Newman’s waiting for us.”

1 1 0 1 0 0

Dr. Hal Newman, the director of the observatory, was a stout, grey-haired man with rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes—in fact, if he hadn’t been clean-shaven, he would have made a fantastic Santa Claus. He seemed delighted to see us, especially Sebastian, and lost no time introducing us to his staff (Liz the site manager, Brian the engineer, and graduate student Jacques) and showing us around. The wood-panel walls and burnt orange carpeting hadn’t been updated since the disco era, but otherwise, the place was as clean and well equipped as any reasonable person could expect. I’d even scored a queen-size bed and a room all to myself, so I wouldn’t have to listen to Sebastian and Milo snore.

“We’re all very interested in your research,” Dr. Newman enthused as we sat together in the lounge and dining area, where a row of windows looked out across the darkened lake. “If you’re right about the nature of this anomaly, Dr. Ashton, it would be a tremendous discovery. My staff and I will be glad to help you in any way we can.”

“Thank you,” said Sebastian. “And please, call me Stephen.”

Milo gave me a look that said, “
Seriously?”
I leaned against his shoulder and whispered, “You can have an alias too if it makes you feel better. How about ‘Fred’?”

“It’s too late to set up tonight,” Dr. Newman continued, oblivious to Milo’s snort, “and there’s a storm moving in. Why don’t we start first thing tomorrow?”

“That would be fine,” said Sebastian. “But we should get the transceiver safely under cover, especially if it’s going to rain.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” He gestured to his assistant. “If you want to drive over to the antenna now, Jacques here can open up the control building and help you unload.”

“Thank you,” said Sebastian. He pulled out his truck keys and tossed them to Milo, then looked meaningfully at me:
Go with them. Make sure nothing gets damaged.

He didn’t need to tell me. I nodded and followed Milo out.

1 1 0 1 0 1

Night had settled over the observatory site, and it was too black to see more than the dim silhouette of the antenna, with its inverted-flowerpot base and its great dish angled up toward the sky. Still, even in the darkness it was impressive.

“Wow,” murmured Milo, leaning over the steering wheel. “That’s … big.”

The control building was an A-shaped building of brick and glass, built in classic mid-sixties style, and the banks of old equipment inside looked more like an exhibit from a space history museum than anything useful. But there were newer devices and computer terminals scattered around the room as well—enough to reassure me that I’d have something to work with when the time came.

I held the door open for Milo and Jacques as they carried the transceiver inside and set it down. A quick once-over reassured me that the wrappings were secure and that it had survived the bumpy ride intact. I’d give it a more thorough inspection tomorrow.

Raindrops pattered on the windshield as we drove away, turning quickly to a hammering downpour. We sprinted to the bunkhouse with our coats over our heads and reached the porch as the first fork of lightning split the sky.

“All settled?” asked Dr. Newman, as the two of us came in. He’d tucked his laptop under his arm and was heading for the east wing of the house.

“Looks to be,” I said, shaking rain from my hair. “Where’s, uh, Dr. Ashton?”

“In the library,” he said. “We’re going over the link budget calculations for tomorrow. Care to join us?”

I glanced at Milo, who was giving me a
please-don’t
look that I understood completely. I liked math, but not at the end of a day like this. “That’s okay,” I said. “I think we’ll take it easy.”

“Of course. Make yourself at home—and stay up as late as you want. We’re all grown-ups here!” He winked at me as though sharing a private joke and went off down the corridor whistling.

I turned accusingly to Milo. “I thought you said I looked older than my age.”

“Well, with makeup and those grey lenses, you did. But right now, you look about fifteen.”

I sighed. “Great. Now nobody’s going to take me seriously.”

“Did you want them to? I thought you were trying not to get noticed.”

“Only to hide from Deckard and the people he’s working for,” I said. “And you know how well that went.”

Milo gave me a sharp look. “He’s working for somebody? Who?”

Crap. I’d grown so comfortable with Milo, I’d forgotten how little of my history he actually knew. “It’s just a guess,” I said. “It doesn’t really matter.”

“It matters to me,” said Milo. “I like to know what’s going on.”

The reproach in his voice warned me that this was about a lot more than Deckard. “Milo, I wish I knew what to tell you. It’s just so complicated—”

“Yeah.” He spoke flatly. “You said that before. Look, I’m pretty tired, so…” He jerked a thumb toward the room he shared with Sebastian. “I’m going to call it a night.”

Unless you give me a reason not to,
he didn’t say. But he might as well have.

“Sure,” I said, forcing a smile. “Go ahead. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

1 1 0 1 1 0

As soon as I’d finished unpacking I checked my e-mail on the observatory’s Wi-Fi, but Alison still hadn’t replied to the message I’d sent her. Maybe she needed more time to think about it, but I had a bad feeling my honesty had only made things worse.

I brushed aside the curtain and gazed out into the darkness—just in time to be dazzled by an enormous flash of lightning that silhouetted the pine trees and lit up the whole surface of the lake. The crash that followed was so loud it rattled the window. I grabbed my wash kit and retreated to the bathroom.

By the time I got back, the rain was pattering more softly and the thunder had subsided to an old man’s grumble in the distance. I put on my pajamas and climbed into bed, pulling the covers around me. But I wasn’t tired enough to sleep, and I couldn’t relax. My brain was too busy thinking about Alison and feeling guilty about lying to Milo and worrying about what would happen tomorrow.

I stretched and flopped in all directions, trying to get comfortable, until finally I couldn’t stand to lie in bed one second longer. I got up, pulled on a zippered sweatshirt, and walked out.

The dining room and kitchen were dark. But from the lounge beyond came the dim flicker of the TV, and the music and laughter of some late-night show. Wrapping the sweatshirt around me, I padded over—and there on the sofa, with long legs stretched out and the remote in hand, lay Sebastian.

“Hey,
Dr. Ashton
,” I said. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“Did I wake you?” He swung his legs around, muting the volume as the show went to commercials. “Or are you regretting that afternoon nap?”

“Neither,” I said. “I’m tormented by a guilty conscience. So I thought I’d come and join the club.”

For six seconds Sebastian didn’t say anything. Then he replied in a neutral tone, “I see.”

I climbed into the armchair, pulling my knees up to my chest. “Tell me something,” I said. “When you sent Alison and me back home, were you planning to wait a few hours and then come through the relay after her? Was that why you stayed behind, to take advantage of the time difference?”

“I had no opportunity to take advantage of anything,” he replied, turning the remote over in his hands. “I knew time was moving faster for you than it was for us, but Mathis didn’t give me the chance to calculate how long it had been before he let me go. I think he enjoyed the thought of keeping me in suspense—a petty revenge, perhaps, but more to his taste than murder.”