Catch the Lightning Read Free Page A

making them and I liked to figure out why they worked.
    “Okay,” I said. But I kept my distance.
    Althor brushed his finger over a square on the box, turning it silver. “This puts it in acoustic mode.” He showed me another side, one with a membrane instead of panels. “Say something.”
    “ ¡Hola, box! ” I said.
    It answered with my voice. “ ¡Hola, box! ”
    I laughed. “How did it do that?”
    “Your voice makes longitudinal waves in the atmosphere. It reproduces them.” He pressed the box onto his wrist guard and touched another panel. A note rang out. “Frequency 552 hertz.” He played another note. “What frequency?”
    “The same, isn’t it?” I said. “Maybe a little higher.”
    “564 hertz. You have good ears. Most people can’t tell them apart.” He made a third note. “This one?”
    “Same as the last.”
    “No. It’s 558 hertz.” He pressed several panels and the tone came again, but this time it vibrated like a trilling bird with a whistle in its throat.
    “Hey! That’s cool.” I laughed. “I know what you’re doing. Making beats. Me and Josh read about it at the library. Your box is singing those two notes at the same time.”
    He smiled, seeming more intrigued by my. reaction than the beats. “You know what is the beat frequency?”
    “Twelve hertz. I can figure out the pitch too.” I thought for a moment. “The last one you played. The 558 hertz.”
    Althor nodded. Then he touched another panel. Flute music floated out into the night, as sweet as the down under an owl’s wings.
    “It’s pretty,” I said.
    He pulled the transcom off his wrist. “Want to try it?”
    Did Los Angeles have smog? As I reached for the box, Althor shifted his weight so that his arm moved back in his lap, making me step closer to reach the transcom. I stumbled over his foot, and as I fell into his lap, he slid his arm around my waist. Mortified, I grabbed the transcom and backed away.
    “If you come here,” he invited, “I show you how it works.”
    I stayed put. He was sitting on the third step of the stairs, next to the railing, his booted feet planted far apart on the sidewalk and his elbows resting on his knees. Broken pieces of plaster lay scattered around his feet. I wanted to see how the transcom worked, but getting close to him was another story. After considering the options, I sat on the other side of the step so that about two feet of concrete separated us.
    Althor leaned over and touched a silver square on the box. It turned gold.
    I pulled back from him. “What are you doing?”
    “I make it in electromagnetic mode.”
    “What does that do?”
    “Right now, an antenna it makes.” He swept out his arm, a gesture including the street, buildings, even sky. “Everywhere.”
    “I don’t see anything.”
    “It uses the buildings.” He dropped his arm onto the stairs between us, his fingers brushing my thigh. “Augmented by changes in local air density.”
    I moved my leg away. “I don’t feel anything.”
    “You can’t feel it.” Althor slid closer. “Besides,” he murmured. “There are better things to feel.”
    His mood was a sensuous river giving off mist, a sensation so unsettling that I dropped the transcom. As it slid out of my hands, my fingers skittered over its surface, making its panels blink. It fell between my legs and landed by the spike heel of my shoe, its panels glowing like gemstones in a river.
    A woman’s voice burst out of it. “—fourth caller wins two free dinners at Mona’s Kitchen. So get your phone ready, folks.”
    “ ¡Oiga! ” When I reached between my knees and picked up the transcom, my finger touched another square. The woman’s voice cut off in midsentence, replaced by a man speaking an unfamiliar language. I jerked my finger away. “What’s it doing?”
    Althor was staring at where I held the transcom between my knees. It seemed to take an effort for him to pull away his gaze and look at my face. “What?”
    I reddened