Part 23 (2/2)

”I'll get someone to redraw these,” she said. Henry took the diagram from Grace and grunted.

”Machine shop,” he said.

”Yeah,” Grace said. ”We'll need some time on the lathe and we'll need the soldering tools.”

They were standing at their table in the lab. All around them was the sound of voices and tools clinking. The thrum of some equipment somewhere vibrated the floor. Casey had wanted to join them but had begged off at the last minute. ”You guys can handle the tech. I'll handle the other stuff.” What other stuff was there? John wondered. And how had she gotten on the team?

”Why is it called pinball again?” Grace asked. ”There's no pins on this list. I see a ball, but no pins.”

”Steelball,” Henry chimed in. John realized he was suggesting a new name.

”I don't know why they call it pinball,” John said. ”They just do.”

”I'm sure it'll become apparent as we move forward,” Grace said. ”Where's Casey? Everything all right between you two?”

”What?” John said. ”She had something to do, okay? Why do you think there's something wrong?”

Grace looked at him strangely, and John realized he'd yelled at her.

”Sorry. Didn't mean to raise my voice.”

”Yeah, no problem.”

”Hold on,” Henry said. He disappeared into a storeroom. John heard things banging around. Henry emerged with a huge piece of fiberboard. He hauled it over to their lab table and John helped him heft it onto the table.

”Can we use this?” John asked. It was about the right size for the play board.

”Everything in there is fair game,” Grace said.

John took out a measuring tape. He marked off a rectangle a meter wide and two meters long. He held his hands along the width and flipped imaginary flippers. Maybe a little skinnier, he thought.

”We'll need a lacquer to smooth the surface, and paint,” he said.

Henry had found a block of wood in the skunk works room. He propped the first plank up, giving it a five-degree angle. Then he grinned at Grace and John. He pulled a steel ball bearing, about two centimeters across, from his pocket and held it at the top of the plank.

”Ready?” he asked, then let the ball go.

It rolled down the plank, gained speed, and flew off the end. John caught it in his palm.

”Cool,” Henry said.

”I love potential energy,” Grace said.

John found himself grinning too. It had been no sort of test at all, no prototype of any value, but the physics was true. It could work.

They missed dinner, and by the time they looked up from their drawings and list of parts, the lab was empty. They agreed to meet daily after cla.s.s, then parted company.

John went back to his apartment, retrieved the device, and returned to the lab. Since Casey was busy that night, he figured he'd do something he'd been meaning to do for a long time.

The lab was still empty when he unlocked the door. Now that he had a key, he could stop by any time he wanted. He walked the entire length of the room to be certain, but it was truly empty.

John sat at the row of light microscopes and turned the first one on.

He removed the device from his bag and placed it under the microscope.

The light microscope only gave an increase in resolution of a few times, but it was better than the magnifying gla.s.s he had at the apartment.

He peered at the gray surface of the device, looking for anything that was out of the ordinary, looking for any clue.

Centimeter by centimeter, he examined the surface.

One hand on the scope, one hand holding a pencil, he drew close-ups of the controls. But even with the microscope, he saw nothing that he hadn't seen before.

Then he turned it on its side. The line was a hair-width wide, and ran the circ.u.mference of the device's disk. Was this how the device came together? he wondered.

He spun the device slowly under the scope, following the line. It remained the same hair-width wide, but then he saw the scratches.

They were tiny, but a dozen of them radiated from the crack, as if a tiny tool had been used to dig there. Why?

The door opened and John jumped.

”h.e.l.lo there, working late, I see.”

John reached for the device to hide it but then felt that would look too suspicious. He turned, smiling. Professor Wilson stood by the door.

”Uh, yeah,” John said. He'd had almost no contact with his advisor and didn't want any now.

”You're the other Wilson, aren't you?”

”Yeah, I am,” John said, regretting for the umpteenth time that Wilson was the name he'd latched onto when he'd met his faux father in this universe.

”What's that you're looking at?” Professor Wilson asked.

”Nothing, nothing important.”

Wilson peered around John at the device sitting on the microscope's stage. He stared at it, then nodded slowly. John refused to explain or say more or remove it from sight.

”How are cla.s.ses? Too hard? You were admitted with just a GED, correct? You and I had some question on how you'd handle the core physics cla.s.ses.”

John gritted his teeth. He'd had no question of how he'd do, but Wilson had.

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