Lost Time (11 page)

Chapter 16

Shannon: Up in Smoke

I
force myself to stay in bed for a full hour past lights out, then quietly get up, change into my warmest clothes, and slip the shoebox out from under my bed.

“Hi, Wilson,” I whisper as I peek inside. “You ready?” The mouse puts his front feet on the edge of the box and looks up at me, his cute little nose wiggling. I stroke him on the head, take a dried apple slice out of my pocket, and offer it to him. He scrambles back into the box, holding the apple in his paws and munching away. “Sorry I don’t have a sweatshirt for you, little guy. I’ll try to make it quick, okay?”

I shut the lid and put my sneakers on. For the hundredth time, I consider telling Madders about my plans, but I don’t want to get him in trouble, and even though I’d trust him with my life, I think he might tell Mom. I pull two sweatshirts on over my clothes, pick up the red and white box, and tiptoe out into the dark biodome.

Most of the overhead lights are off, but motion detectors trip as I hurry across the park, lighting my way into the future. I stop in the center of the grass, standing still long enough for the lights to turn off. A thick beam of moonlight shines down through the quartz portal in the center of the dome, and I open the box a tad so Wilson can take a peek.

“A dreamer finds his way by moonlight,” I say to Wilson, “and his punishment is that he sees the dawn first.”

He squeaks his approval.

Okay, so he’s not quite a lassie, but I still love his furry little self.

Five minutes later, I key in the code for the warehouse door and then slip into Madders’ lab. There aren’t any motion detectors in here, since the supplies are kept locked up, so I take Mom’s flashlight out of my pocket and turn it on. The small cone of light pushes back the darkness, and I hurry over to the workbench, trying not to think about the people who died in here.

I turn on the workbench light and put my flashlight away. The mask and plastic ball are right where I left them. I set Wilson’s box down and get to work. I found the discarded ball in the Recycling Room, which is the Bub’s equivalent of the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts. Madders thinks the ball was used to make “cold cream” which he tried to explain to me.

But eating frozen cow’s milk doesn’t sound very appetizing to me, even if Madders thinks it’s the cat’s purr.

Still, it’s a rigid, translucent sphere with a lid, and I already checked that it’s airtight.

I put the sphere into a vise to keep it from rolling around and tape a small glass thermometer to the inside.

Wilson noses the lid of his box open, and I lift him out and pet him for a minute. “I hope this works, Wilson, for both our sakes.”

I stuff his cotton bed into the ball, toss in another slice of apple, and then put the mouse inside, placing the new Hudson-Kai rebreather mask over the opening. “See you on the other side, little guy.”

Getting the new mask to mold properly to the ball is harder than I anticipated, but I eventually manage to get the seal to adhere to the plastic just like it would to a human face. I clean everything up, put Madders’ tools away, and switch off the light.

Now for the testing.

I turn on my flashlight, pick up Wilson’s ball, and take a deep breath. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.” I walk deeper into the dark warehouse carrying Wilson and repeating those words.

It’s been a couple of years since I was in the deep freeze, but it doesn’t take long to find the huge, heavy door. I switch on the room light and open the door. Freezing cold air leaks out through the plastic sheets hanging down inside. I check that the inside is in good working order and verify that the matches are still in my pocket.

“We are all systems go for airtight testing, Wilson.”

I step inside the freezer and turn on the light. Nothing happens.

“Shit.”

Madders says that word sometimes, and I know that Mom doesn’t like it, but it seems appropriate now.

“The light bulb must be burned out.”

I peek at Wilson, curled up on his nest. “Here goes nothing.”

I pull the huge door shut.

Total darkness surrounds me, and for a split second I can’t breathe. I fumble for the flashlight in my pocket, switch it on, and use it to look around the small cave, feeling freaked out.

Just a bunch of cold peas and dead fish, Shaz. Focus.

I sit down on a plastic tub of yeast and set Wilson’s ball on a bag of frozen corn, pressing it down a bit so it won’t roll off. I check the Mickey Mouse watch that Mom gave me for my thirteenth birthday, set the flashlight down next to Wilson, and then stuff my hands into my pockets. I plan to sing every movie song I know, hoping that will be enoug
h—
and if not, I can always practice derivative rules from calculus.

I smile to myself.

Mom would probably prefer I started with the calc.

I begin with “I’ll Make a Man Out of You,” the beam of my flashlight illuminating the shrinking red line on Wilson’s thermometer.

After twenty minutes, the flashlight is noticeably dimmer and my voice is giving out, but the temperature inside the ball has dropped twenty degrees. Wilson is huddled up inside his cotton ball bed. “Sorry, mate. But it’s for a good cause, and we’re almost done.”

I sing “I’m Not that Girl” one more time for good measure and blow a thin stream of air into the intake valve of the mask. Wilson pokes his nose out of the cotton, wiggles it a bit, and then disappears again.

“Air is definitely getting in. Now let’s see about smoke.”

I take Wilson out of the freezer, check that the door is shut all the way, and set his ball down on a box. It rolls around a little, so I take off one sweatshirt and use it to prop up the sphere. Then I spend a minute getting the circulation back in my hands and feet.

According to my calculations, the twenty-degree drop in temperature inside the ball should cause an equivalent drop in pressure. If the mask isn’t completely sealed, air will be sucked in around the edges. Wikipedia says that smoke particles are smaller than a virus, so if no smoke gets in, no Doomsday virus will either.

I light the matches one by one, quickly blowing them out and then moving the smoking tip around the edge of the mask, looking for any wisps to appear inside the ball.

After sixteen matches, I’m reasonably sure the seal is good.

“Nice work, Wilson, you passed the first test!”

∞

Ten minutes later, I’m standing in front of the biodome’s main airlock, holding Wilson’s ball and wishing that Madders was here to watch.

“Identify the problem, engineer a solution, and Bob’s your uncle.” I take a deep breath. “You ready, big guy?”

I step inside the internal door and tiptoe across the empty room, the crescent moon in the window catching my eye. I check that Wilson is okay and then set the ball down next to the Outside door. “Good luck, Mr. Wilson. If this works, I’ll promote you to Dr. Wilson.”

I exit the airlock and then secure the inside door. “Here goes nothing.”

I lift the protective cover over the controls, enter the keycode, and push the “Start Cycle” butto
n—
just like I do when I check on the fish in the reservoir.

The computer display changes to
Waiting for inner portal lock…
then
Verifying containment seal…
and finally,
Opening outer portal…

I watch the huge door slide sideways past Wilson, swirls of frost forming as the warm inside air meets the freezing winter Outside. Wilson is racing around inside his ball, and I reach for the “Abort” button, sure that the Outside air is killing him. But I know it’s too late either way, and I drop my hand to my side, wishing I could have come up with some way to test the mask without risking a life.

I stand there for twenty minutes, watching Wilson’s ball making tracks in the snow coming in from Outside. He seems to be getting the hang of making the ball move and is cruising around the room like a champ. I push the “Talk” button and say, “This is Shannon Kai. Please call Matthew Hudson.”

I have to wait forty-two long seconds for Madders’ gravelly voice to come on. “Shenanigans? Are you all right? What’s going on?”

“We did it, Madders. We fixed the masks. Just like we thought, it’s not the filters that are bad, it’s the seal. Wilson and I just proved it.”

Chapter 17

Diego: Test Her Wings

“H
appy birthday, Shannon!” I step inside and give her a bear hug, letting my cane fall to the floor. “Eighteen is a big year, Miss Kai, and I hope it’s your best so far.” I kiss her on both cheeks. “Thanks for inviting me to your party.”

“Of course, Mr. C. You’re part of the family.” Shannon turns to her mother. “Isn’t he?”

“Yep,” Lani says, her eyes glossy.

The implication makes me a little uncomfortable, but I let it go.

“Why don’t you both sit down,” Lani says, “and I’ll bring out the cake.”

“Cake?” Shannon’s eyes get big and her mouth falls open. “You baked me a cake, Mom? I didn’t think you knew how to turn on the oven!”

Lani laughs. “I don’t, silly. Diego made it for you. He’s been over in the West Kitchen slaving away all afternoon.”

She gives me another hug. “You’re the best!” She hands me my cane. “Come sit down before Mom starts worrying that you’re going to trip and kill yourself.”

Lani disappears into the small kitchen and then calls out, “And Madders stopped by while you were in class, Shannon. He was really sorry he couldn’t be here, but he had to pick up supplies in San Francisco.” She peeks around the doorframe. “But he mentioned something about a puppy.”

Shannon lets out a squeal of delight. “Thanks for getting the council to say yes, Mom!”

“You’re welcome, baby. He mentioned there was a surprise for you in the freezer at the clini
c—
something about “cold cream”—but he said he’d be by on Saturday to deliver your real present.”

Shannon claps her hands together, bouncing on her toes. “I can’t wait. A real dog! I’m going to call her Millie, after Amelia Earhart.”

“That’s a tail-wagging-good choice,” I say, limping across the living room. It’s been a month since the splints came off, and although I’m getting better, I’m not going to be running a marathon any time soon. “But what are you going to call him if he’s a boy?”

“Earhart,” she says. “Not that he’d mind being called Millie. He’s a dog after all.”

I laugh and sit down on the sofa.

Shannon bounds across the floor and plops down next to me. “So what’s the news, Mr. C?” She bumps her shoulder playfully against mine. “Mom says you have something to tell me.”

“I do, but why don’t you open your present first?” I take a small gift out of my jacket and offer it to her. “It may not be much, but it comes with a whole universe of possibilities. Happy big eighteen, Shannon.”

“Thank you, Mr. C.” She hugs my arm, and then carefully undoes the wrapping paper and lifts the top off a small box. “Oh my god, you can’t give me this!” She lifts the orange seashell out and holds it up to the light. “It’s the only thing you have from your old life.”

“I think it’s high time I let it go.” I glance over Shannon’s shoulder and catch Lani’s smile before she turns away.

Shannon throws her arms around my neck. “Thank you, Mr. C. I love it. Where did you get it?”

“I found it on a beach in Costa Rica a very long time ago.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“I think so too. Maybe someday you can return it for m
e—
I mean after you figure out how to go back Outside, of cours
e—
wiggle your toes in the sand and watch the sun go down?”

“I’d like that a lot,” she says, turning the shell over in her hands. “I’ve never seen a real beac
h—
or even a real sunset. Having both at the same time must be wonderful.”

“It is.” A soul-crushing sadness fills me, and for a second I can’t breathe. I promised Isabel I’d take her to see that sunset the night she said she’d marry me.

I miss you, hun.

Shannon’s voice brings me back. “So what’s the big news?”

I take a minute to clear my throat. “Your mother has arranged for me to undergo some testing at C-Bay. She thinks they might be able to figure out how the machines in my blood keep me alive Outside.”

“You’re leaving us?” Her voice is full of accusations.

“But I’ll be back in a month or two,” I say. “Pinkie promise.”

She flops heavily against the couch, still turning the shell over in her hands. “You can’t leave us, Mr. C. Me and Mom… we need you.”

“Mom and I,” Lani calls from the other room. “Subjective case pronoun.”

Shannon and I exchange looks.

I lean back and put my arm around her. “You don’t
need
me, Shannon. You got along just fine before I fell out of that damn tree. And like I said, I’ll be back.”

She looks over at me, her eyes pleading, and whispers, “Mom’s in love with you, Mr. C, and if you don’t come
b—”

“Shh.” I put my finger up to her lips. “Don’t say that. I’ll be back. I promise. Hey, I’ve already fallen hard for both of you!” I jostle her shoulder until she smiles. “Come on, Shaz. It’s your birthday, and anyway, I won’t be leaving until next week.”

Her eyes light up. “Wait a sec!” She scoots to the edge of the sofa. “I’ll come with you. Oh my god, it’s perfect. I’ll take the mask to C-Bay so Mr. Kirk can see it, and I’ll teach people how to fix their masks.” She looks over at me, a huge smile spreading across her face. “I’m old enough to leave the Bub, and C-Bay has a real university! Come on, Mr. C. You have to take me!”

Lani peeks around the doorframe. “No.” She disappears again.

“Maaaaam.” Shannon gives me a pleading look and mouths the word,
Help
?

“Your mother’s right, Shannon. It’s too dangerous. You’d have to wear a biosuit in the plane, and if something went wron
g—”

“Madders does it all the time,” she says. “He’s flown to C-Bay like a hundred times.”

Lani reappears. “Absolutely not. End of conversation.” She walks into the room carrying my chocolate cake all lit up with candles. “Happy eighteenth birthday, Shannon!”

Shannon’s cherubic face is drawn down into a pout, and I nudge her with my foot. She glances sideways at me, her eyebrows furrowed, and I give her my best
Don’t go there!
look.

She recovers almost immediately. “Oh, Mom,” she says, clapping her hands together. “It’s beautiful. And real candles! Thank you so much!” She glances back at me. “But won’t they burn the cake?”

I laugh. “No silly. You make a wish, then you get one breath to blow out all the candles. And if you manage to get every last one, your wish will come true.”

Lani gives me a disapproving look.

“That is, most of the time,” I add as Lani sets the cake down on the coffee table.

“Hmm,” Shannon says, her top lip falling over the bottom one. “I wish that everyone…” She thinks for a second. “Every person and every
animal…
could go Outside again.” She takes a deep breath and blows out all the candles.

Lani and I clap and start singing “Happy Birthday”—each of us in a different languag
e—
as Shannon smiles and blushes.

“That,” Lani says, wiping a tear from her eye, “was a very noble wish, Shannon. I love you, baby.”

Shannon gets up and gives her mother a bear hug. “I love you too, Mo
m—
more than anything else in the world.”

Lani takes a minute to get her emotions back under control, then she laughs and says, “Let them eat cake!” She turns to me. “Diego, will you do the honors? I’ll grab some plates and forks.”

The instant her mother disappears, Shannon rounds on me. “You have to help me, Mr. C. She’ll listen to you. You can tell her that you’ll keep an eye on me, make sure I don’t do anything dangerous. You know how she is!” She leans closer, her eyes pleading. “Pleeease?”

“I’ll talk to her, Shannon, but no promises.”

Lani reappears, a tea tray in hand, and I hastily cut the cake.

“Diego, tell Shannon where you got the chocolate,” Lani says, her voice light.

“Now there’s a story!” I say and hand out the slices of cake.

“Well?” Shannon asks. “Where did you find it? Chocolate is scarcer than chicken’s teeth.”

“In the Room of Requirement, of course!”

“No way!” Shannon says, her eyes twinkling.

“Yes way. After you told me about it, I went on a real
scavenger
hunt.” I take a sip of tea and continue my story. “I managed to dig up thirteen large cocoa powder tin
s—
I’d say they were buried in the five- to ten-year-old strat
a—
and when I dumped, scraped, and disassembled them, I found enough leftover cocoa for the cake.”

“Oh my god, that’s ace, Mr. C. Thank you!” She polishes off her piece in a matter of seconds, but when I offer her another slice, she hesitates. “We should save some cake for Madder
s—
and for Miss Lucy and the Millers too. They’re all part of our family!”

“Of course we will,” Lani says, smiling. “There’s plenty, so go ahead and have another slice. I’ll cut a big piece for Madders, save an extra one for you, and you can take the rest to Mindy’s. I think Mrs. Miller is on call tonight, so you should be able catch Miss Lucy and her at the clinic.”

“Sweet.” She starts eating her second piece. “So, uh, about C-Bay…” She gives me a furtive glance. “Mr. C thinks it’s a good idea. Don’t you, Mr. C?”

Lani chokes on her tea.

“Whoa, there!” I hold up my hands. “I didn’t say that, Shannon. I said we’ll talk about it.”

“But you agree with me! I know you do. You saw what I did with the rebreather mask. You know I’m old enough to go!”

“I want what’s best for you, Shannon, and so does your mother.” I look at Lani. “Whatever your mom says goes.”

Lani gives me a scathing look and then turns to Shannon. “In the first place, it’s too dangerous. You’d have to be Outside for
days
. One little accident, and unlike Diego, you’d be dead in a matter of minutes.”

“I know that, Mom. I’m not a lolo D-2. I go Outside every week to take care of the fishpond, and I’ve never had an accident. Even when the rattlesnake bit through my suit, I didn’t panic, and nothing bad happened. Madders says I’m more mature than most of the adults he knows.”

“In the second place,” Lani says, “you have absolutely no actual flying experience, so you’d just be extra work for Madders.”

“Mom, I’ve spent hundreds of hours running the simulator. And the only reason I don’t have any real experience is because you refuse to let Madders take me up in his airplane.”

“And in the third place, you’re just a child. The world is a cold and uncaring place, young lady, and you’d be stuck half a continent away from home with no one to take care of you.”

“Mr. C will protect me,” she says, glancing at me. “And besides, I’m not a child anymore, Mom. If you’d just give me a chance, you’d see that I can take care of myself.”

“I absolutely forbid you to g-go, Shannon!”

I’ve never heard Lani raise her voice before, and I can tell that she is close to tear
s—
and so is Shannon.

Christ, what a mess.

“And Mr. C agrees with my d-decision,” she adds, almost begging. “Don’t you?”

I take a long drink of tea and finish eating my cake.

“Well, don’t you?” Lani finally says, her eyes pinned on me.

I nod, unable to meet Shannon’s gaze. “If your mother says you can’t go, Shannon… Well, that’s all there is to it.”