“Do you think,” I begin slowly, “concurrent geomagnetic storms connected our timelines together? Accidentally transporting him here the way those telegraph messages were able to travel over the geomagnetically induced current?”
“Yeah, I think it’s like—” Lionel digs through his backpack and yanks out a scrap of paper, letting it rest flat against his palm. “We view time as linear, but what if the Carrington Event caused his past—which is actually his present—to bend intoourpresent?” He removes the paper from the surface of his hand and foldsit into a C-shape; then he jabs a pen down into the top, poking through both flaps. “The pen is a tunnel connecting his timeline to ours, and he somehow traveled through it.”
Alarm bells go off in my head. This isn’t déjà vu—Lionel’s visual model is nearly identical to the sketch I’d seen in my dad’s journal yesterday. My hand sinks into my pocket as I extract it, riffling through the pages until I come across his sketches and the word I hadn’t recognized.Isoborometer.
“That looks like something my dad was working on.” I pass the journal to Lionel. “But I don’t know what any of it means. It’s just a bunch of equations.”
Sumner brightens. “Let me see.”
You’d think I’d just exclaimed,Look!A book full of naked girls!
As they study the pages, I do a quick search on the Space Weather Prediction Center, which confirms increased solar activity is expected in the coming months. My knowledge of astronomy is vast enough to understand astrophysicists can’t exactly predict when a major solar flare will occur, but theycanpredict when we can expect a dynamic aurora display based on the sun’s activity.
Lionel glances between me and William. “If the geomagnetic storm in both timelines created a tunnel, in theory, you’d need to engineer something that could harness the energy from the geomagnetic storm to reverse the direction of the vortex in order to send him back.”
“So the magnetic vortex and tunnel are one and the same,” William says thoughtfully.
“Theoretically,” Lionel reminds him. “It’s your connecting point.”
Sumner had said something similar, hadn’t he? A cosmic anchoring point. My gut twists. If Ivernia is expected to close at the end of the yearandthe limitations of the magnetic vortex exist on the property, it means we only have a few months to correct the timeline and send William back.
Sumner’s teeth graze his bottom lip, glasses skating down his nose as he bends over my dad’s journal. “There’s something here.” He takes a few photos of the isoborometer illustration with his phone, then hands it back to me. “I need time to work through it. I’ve never heard of an isoborometer.”
“Do you think it’s possible?” I ask. “What Lionel’s saying?”
Because what happens if we fail? At the very worst, William would have to live out his existence here, away from his family and friends and the life he’s left in London. He can’t graduate pretending to be someone else, and without any discernible identification, what would hedo? What wouldwedo if the faculty found out we were keeping this enormous secret?
Sumner must sense the desperation in my voice because he says, “I’m sure hoping so, Carmichael.”
William clasps his hands together, elated. “I daresay you are the most intriguing group of people I’ve ever met.” Then, to Lionel, he says, “I do love the decorations on your teeth.”
Lionel grins wider. “Can I help? IswearI won’t tell anyone, Delaney. I’ve never been part of anything like this before.”
And the remainder of my heart melts. Lionel is loyal. He’s also one of the most intelligent people in our year. If we’re going to actually try to do this, we’re going to need him.
So I say, “Of course.”
Before I know what’s happening, he leaps to his feet and flings his arms around me, hugging me tight as I bark out a surprised laugh. “This is the coolest thing ever everever. We’re like a cosmic superhero team.”
From the corner, William snaps a picture.
19
Mrs.Vidar-Tett hasn’t spoken in fourminutes. I’ve timed it on the clock positioned behind her. Her eyes scan over my assignment, jump up to meet my gaze every few moments, then settle back on the page. The longer this stretches on, the heavier my heartbeat thumps in my chest. My palms dampen. I’m about to get chastised, I can palpablyfeelit, but I’m not sure why.
I completed the assignment last-minute even though I enjoyed it as much as a rash. The questions were layered with unnecessary introspection.How do you think others perceive you? What values are important to you?How does your current path reflect your individuality?
A giant waste of time.
She sighs, and it confirms my suspicions.
“Delaney,” she finally says. “What was going through your mind when you completed this assignment?”
I pause. This isn’t the question I expected.
“Uh,” I flounder. “That I should get it done?”
She sets my assignment down. “It reads that way.”
