Bodies pounced on Axel and confiscated the gun he grabbed from an officer. "Trust me, that wolf is a dick," he said as his face kissed the ground. The officer was surprised at how quick and robust Axel was and how easy it was for him to grab the gun off his person.
"You're coming with us," Mr. Furyk said.
"Just give me the money."
"You'll be granted the reward soon enough."
Axel realized the moment guns were pulled on him and got cuffed that he may have made a mistake. They didn't put him in an airship like Connor and Stephanie, but they placed him in one of the cars.
***
Teresa wept on her knees, Joules was too quick, and even if she could hold her, she'd be too strong. Even her suit didn't keep her afloat as she, the principal, and his students watched in horror as Connor got dragged away from his best friend, screaming and wrestling for freedom to reach Joules. They struggled to get the boots and vest on Connor, and Stephanie stood silently, staring at Connor as they outfitted her. They rose into the airship, and Connor continued to scream and resist.
Principal Bailey turned to his students. "Neville, Christian, and Olivya, the three of you are expelled."
"What?" Neville said. "For what? I didn't do anything wrong."
Thomas grabbed Neville. "You betrayed one of your own. He was one of us. And for what? Money? My students know better, which means you're not my student. Even now, you're only thinking of yourself."
Christian and Olivya looked dejected, and Thomas released Neville from his grip. "Once they leave, you three will leave and never come back."
***
Connor cried, screamed, and wailed in all directions. Stephanie sat frozen, shocked at what had happened. The tragic feeling sank in deep for her, but she could see it in Connor. All hope and progress in his life had vanished. Maybe it was an hour, two hours, or just thirty minutes. But eventually, Connor turned into a slump of despair, only capable of staring into the airship's ceiling, his chest visibly inhaling and exhaling, and his mouth gaping open in a fixed position.
Stephanie thought hard about what to say. She wished she could comfort and embrace him, but while confined, she could only speak with care. "I know it feels like the world is against you. It's because they don't know you. I know you. You're my friend, and I love you. It must be difficult to understand this at the moment, but your life means something—maybe not something to them, but something to me."
More tears poured. "I'm going to kill everyone."
***
Music blasted as he drove into Blue Ashe, and after being away for a few months, it was a sight to behold, filled with military personnel and trucks. Even an army air tanker flew overhead, low enough for him to see the details of the plane, such as the windows and the seams of the cargo door on the bottom. He had no idea the extent of it, but there were plenty of social media posts of the airships and fires. But the one he couldn't believe was the video of the reservoir floating up into the sky. He didn't think it possible until after driving past several blocks of buildings a few feet underwater. Reports said no one died. The water fell too slowly and mostly back into the reservoir to harm anyone.
It was second nature, even with the haze and ash of the fires, to drive through his neighborhood, making the turns. It's urgent, his dad told him. Once he pulled up to the house, he did have to rummage around the glove box to find the garage door opener, as it had been a while.
When the two-door garage door opened, he saw a petite Hispanic girl sitting at a makeshift desk with tons of equipment around her, not an open spot for him to park.
He did a double-take. This is my house, and the garage door did open for my opener. The girl didn't look or change her focus, with one hand typing and the other tapping her head. He stepped out, "Hey."
The girl turned, almost startled. "Hey," she said. "I didn't notice you."
"You didn't notice a garage door opening?"
She turned her head back to her work. "No."
"I'm Tim. Do you mind telling me why you're in my garage?"
"Oh, Tim!" she turned him, spotting Tim getting the height gene from his dad. "I live here now."
He stepped into the garage, "Uh huh. And, who are you?"
"Teresa Festivus. I'd love to chat, but I need a breakthrough."
He began looking around at what she was doing in the garage. Timothy's stomach about jumped out of his throat as Teresa's phone resonated on the desk. "Are you going to answer that?"
"Nah, just my former dumbass friends."
Timothy found her funny, in a cute little sister way. His fiancé in college was more serious and would want to know all the details about a stranger opening a garage door.
Everything else around Teresa Festivus looked intense.
He lifted some esoteric-looking metal ring, though it was wide enough to put his entire fist through and thick enough to stand on its side. "Teresa Festivus, mind telling me what you're doing?"
"Put that down," Teresa said.
He tossed it into the air, and it spun, "This thing?"
"Do what she says," Thomas said.
Timothy turned to see his dad at the door that led into the house. He put it down and gave a mimicked Do what she says mouth gesture. "Why is this girl here?"
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"She lives here now. That's all you need to know. How's your girl?" Thomas wanted to change the subject.
"Good, she drove back home for spring break as well."
Thomas's hand still hasn't left the door handle. "When will we meet her?"
"This summer."
He nodded. "Great, get your stuff. You're in the basement."
"Say what now?"
***
"So, Teresa, pop here tells me you're a genius," Timothy leaned into the fork and took a bite.
Cynthia Bailey heard this from Thomas as well. But she didn't want to ask the question directly. The request from Thomas was strange enough to bring in a teenage girl from school into their home. But, having nowhere to go was all the reason for Thomas to want to help someone. On top of Thomas telling her that she's a good kid, it meant he was serious. She's never heard him say that about Timothy, their own flesh and blood, who is a good kid.
Teresa poured on the salad dressing, "That's right. The brightest in history."
"Uh-huh," he drank some water. "What's twenty-seven times forty divided by thirty plus one hundred times five thousand, four hundred, and sixty-eight?"
Her mouth half full, "Five hundred and forty-six thousand nine hundred and thirty-six."
"No, it isn't, not even close," Timothy said. "What did I say?" He pulled out his phone. "Twenty-something?"
"Twenty-seven."
"Right, twenty-seven times, crap. Was it thirty?"
Teresa repeated the equation to him, and he typed it in, and she repeated the answer, which he read along simultaneously. "Well," Timothy said. "Lucky guess."
Thomas pushed his chair back and rose. "I have to get to the office as several lawsuits are coming my way, plus gym repairs. You're doing the dishes tonight, son. Clean the car for your mom as well, yard and gutters tomorrow."
Timothy nodded. It's why he came home, as he was asked to help around the house, plus they needed both cars for a while. Thomas kissed his wife on the forehead and went straight for the front door to do some evening work.
Teresa knew her friend's parents were suing the school for expelling them. She had received tons of messages from Olivya, Neville, and Christian. She ignored them all and believed getting sued wouldn't slow Thomas down.
She copied his language. "One tough pops you have, Tim."
He looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"He has a minor stab wound in his side and hasn't complained about it."
Timothy's fork clanked against the plate. "What?"
"He's fine," Cynthia reassured him.
Teresa left it at that and decided to take a cue from Thomas and get back to work. "Thank you so much for the food Mrs. Bailey," Teresa said, "it was good."
"Still not going to call me Cynthia?"
"Right, sorry, Cynthia," Teresa said. "I, too, need to get back to work." She sauntered into the garage and went about her business.
Timothy pushed his plate away. "So, what's the deal with her? And dad? No one's going to tell me?"
"A lot happened a week ago. Your father said she was at the heart of it, and he got involved. When he's ready, he'll tell you the details."
Timothy eyed the door to the garage and nodded. He cleared the table, started the dishes, and even ran some laundry. In one hand, he ran the vacuum cleaner, in the other, his phone looking for recipes. Doing chores wasn't too bad. It did give his mom time to check a few work emails and to use her car, which he borrowed for college, instead of biking to work. His parents didn't need him. It was just a precaution after what had happened recently and the fires that were going on. At least, he concluded, because he knew his dad took no risks. He plopped on the couch, kicked his feet up, turned on the TV, and did his best not to look at his phone and doom scroll about what happened in Blue Ashe.
Fuuuu!
Timothy heard Teresa from the living room, even with the TV on. He didn't think much of it and turned back to the TV.
Clank, bang, THUD.
The rummaging of the disheveled garage was nonstop.
Crash, thunk.
Timothy was getting bored of TV anyway and checked out the calamity she was stirring up. He looked around and could barely see Teresa through the rearranged mess she was working with. Just the back of her head was visible. "Need help with anything?"
She didn't hear him. He twisted his way through the garage and made it to what he thinks is her workstation. A cue ball was on the desk. He grabbed it, or at least he thought he did. It didn't weigh much. It barely had any weight at all! And felt perfectly smooth, so much so he could scarcely feel any texture. "What is this?"
Teresa jolted and looked at him, "A neutrino ball."
He didn't quite understand it, "I've never seen one before."
"Did you see the meteor last year?"
"Yeah."
"Then you have."
Timothy put the neutrino ball down and looked around at all her stuff. And what stood out was the whiteboard. "You really are some sort of genius?"
"So I'm told."
He read the formula on the whiteboard and pretended to know what was happening. "What does this do?"
Teresa swiveled her chair, "Stand back, and I'll show you."
"Alright," he stepped back. She motioned for him to step back even further. "Alright."
She quickly swiveled and tapped on a few things on the laptop. And not a moment later, the ring Timothy was playing with lit up like a firecracker with a resounding flash of white light. A white blur shot out a second later, bouncing down onto the floor.
Timothy stood stunned. "It makes neutrino balls?"
Teresa smiled. "Close. It can turn dark matter into matter and vice versa. I finally figured it out this morning. Just not the rest of it."
"What's the rest of it?"
"Stopping it and reversing it."
Timothy looked confused as he grabbed the second neutrino ball. It was identical in every aspect.
"That meteor should have just shot through our solar system at close to the speed of light. But once it was made, it was in perfect orbit, some force was applied to it that I'm trying to discover. A peer of mine did it, so, technically, she's the genius. I got this far only because she gave me a hint." She sighed at saying the latter. "Even the flash of light is different from hers."
This entire visit to the garage has been nothing but one interesting thing after another for Timothy—exciting. But he could tell Teresa looked stressed. "I'd be proud of all of this."
"Sure."
"Mind telling me what the hint was?"
Teresa crossed her legs on the chair and spun a little by pushing off the desk with her hand. "Something about being in charge of leaving our solar system, making waves with anti-gravity."
"Okay, and what part of that hint is this?"
"Charge and waves. The right particle's wave can determine whether the matter will interact with electromagnetism."
He nodded.
"The top of the wave changes it to dark matter, the bottom back to it. Stretching the wave determines how long you're in that specific state. But the formula only works for altering that state. Not moving it."
Again he nodded.
"I need to push the neutrino ball. She told me I was close, but I'm not seeing it."
He had no idea what the hell she was talking about, but he liked to spitball ideas. "What if it's two separate formulas? She mentioned gravity. Didn't the reservoir, like, counteract gravity somehow? That's what my physics teacher said."
The sound of the spinning swivel chair stopped. "Oh," Teresa leaned back and tapped her forehead, "that bitch." She wanted to scream.
Timothy took another step back. "What?"
She ran back to her station and made another neutrino ball but watched the process with a deep focus. There was a bright white light, and only white as a new orb fell to the ground, piling next to the previous ones she's made.
"You're right, Timothy. It's why there's always some purple light when she does it. She's using gravitons to do the push. My gravitons."