Annihilation (The Seamus Chronicles Book 1) Read Free

needed to catch and hold a single atom is massive. If I can get my reactor working, it might be able to generate enough energy to prove this concept in the real world. I don’t understand why there are not more people working on the power piece of the equation. The solar sail theory is great and important, but if we can’t move beyond simple nuclear reactors to generate power, we will forever be stuck experimenting and proving with equations. We need to increase our access to massive amounts of energy before we can move humanity to the next stage of evolution—interstellar travel. I guess I need to focus on my contribution first.
    School is more of a nuisance than ever. It’s all I can do to make it through the end of the period. I’m not even going to pretend that I’m sick. I just walk out of the building and start for home. My mind is racing. All the amazing people who said faster-than-light travel was impossible may be wrong. But I suppose there was a time when faster-than-sound travel was impossible, and a time when the earth was flat. It’s almost as if the concept of “impossible” was created just so it could be proven wrong. I can’t lose focus on my reactor, but I want to know more about this solar sail.
    Dad’s not home when I get there. He is probably out golfing or whatever. It doesn’t bother me because it means I can go straight to the lab with no hassles about why I’m not in school.
    The report is good. No, it’s better than good. I would almost call it flawless. This guy did not want to publish until he was certain. I like that. Too many scientists lately have been publishing too soon, only to have their findings discredited. In some parts there is a feeling that rushing to publish is speeding along understanding. It gets more eyes on the idea and drives more detailed looks at advanced theories. It seems sloppy to me. There are even scientists who have built their whole reputation on disproving other people’s work. Is this really science? These people have never had a creative thought in their lives, but they are process and documentation geeks. They will always find flaws in the way the people who do things actually do things.
    Somehow the day is gone.
    “Seamus, dinner time,” Dad calls down from the top of the stairs. He doesn’t even ask if I’m down here anymore; he knows. But still, I can’t believe dinner is going to interrupt my work. If this solar sail theory holds up, we’re probably five years away from having speed-of-light technology that will allow us to travel to another universe, and Dad wants me to put that on hold for grilled chicken and “the last of the season’s tomatoes.”
    But I know what he would say. It’s not about the chicken or tomatoes. “ It’s about the family, we need to stick together. Who knows when we will need each other?” I know he’s right. Dad has worked so hard to help me get and keep friends. And I need friends. I want friends. But there aren’t enough hours in the day. Half of one hour for family is what I can spare.
    As we finish up dinner, the kitchen screen lights up. Must be Mom skyping from California. Liam walks over to answer and immediately starts to tell Mom about how bummed he is that Saturday’s soccer game was canceled because of so many kids being sick. They think they could have enough people to play, but they don’t want to get everyone together and spread germs.
    Grace thinks this sickness thing is a joke, we all feel fine. Together we’ve hypothesized that thanks to big media the entire world is having the opposite of a placebo effect. People think they are sick because the news has been talking about how many people are sick. I know it is real, but I want to shield her from the awful news.
    Mom laughs when Grace tries to share our theory on the fake sickness, but she isn’t buying it. The person she flew out to California to meet is too sick and the meeting will have to wait until Monday. She is not going to make