Albert thought all weekend about what he wanted to say to Mr. Reagan, and when he got to the office door at nine in the morning, he still felt ill prepared. How did Billy do this with such ease? He knocked and heard Mr. Reagan tell him to come in. Albert opened the door, giving a large smile he didn’t feel.

“Good morning, Mr. Reagan.”

He was in the process of checking his email. He looked happier than he had on Friday. “Albert, hello!”

“How was your weekend?” Albert asked, heading for his makeshift workstation.

“Oh, can’t complain. Always nice to rest and relax,” he said.

“I was meaning to ask you about Friday. You seemed a bit out of it after that meeting,” Albert said, opening the S.E.A. laptop.

A sad smile flickered across Mr. Reagan’s face before it disappeared again. “Sometimes meetings drain me, but nothing like a nice weekend to help rejuvenate the spirit, right?” Mr. Reagan asked.

“Yeah.” Prying wouldn’t do any good. If anything, it would make him more suspicious in Mr. Reagan’s eyes, but he had to at least seem friendly. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, no. It’s business between the officials. Trying to sort out some things internally,” Mr. Reagan said.

“Oh, I see.”

If Mr. Reagan was right, then a meeting about sorting things out internally was good information. It was at least something. Albert pulled up one of the computer files, trying to remember where he left off before grabbing a physical file and glancing through it. His mind was still alive with predictions of what the meeting could be.

“So, Albert, I heard that you enjoy the sciences,” Mr. Reagan’s voice sounded friendly enough, maybe even curious, but it didn’t stop Albert’s heart from freezing up.

“Yeah. I do.” It took a few more seconds for his heart to go back to a normal, though slightly quickened pace.

“Science? Math? Which one?” Mr. Reagan asked.

Albert swallowed, telling himself he wasn’t being put under trial here. Mr. Reagan was curious. He hoped it was curiosity. “Well, that’s a hard question to answer.”

Mr. Reagan gave him an inquisitive look. “Is it?”

“Meaning there’s a lot to unpack when you say just science and math. Each one has about a dozen different disciplines and subcategories, often mixing between the two.”

“Alright. So I guess which ones do you like to study?” Mr. Reagan said.

Albert turned slightly in his seat toward Mr. Reagan, still not able to shake off the feeling that he was being examined by a magnifying glass in the hot sun. “I really enjoy physics, sir.”

“Physics, huh? Now, I’ve heard of physics, but I don’t think I’ve actually met someone who wants to study it,” Mr. Reagan said.

“It’s a hobby,” Albert said, making sure they always came back to that.

“Right, of course. Tell me, what interests you so much about physics?” Mr. Reagan asked.

Albert wasn’t sure how to answer. “It’s um… I’m afraid when I usually tell people this kind of stuff, they get bored.” It was a safe answer, but somehow he knew it wouldn’t satisfy Mr. Reagan.

Mr. Reagan smiled, the kind that made his eyes crinkle and Albert had a hard time fighting off the trust he seemed to radiate with that smile. “Oh, I know full well the consequences of me asking that question. I’ll let you know if I get bored.”

Albert closed the file. “Alright.” Albert started slow, talking about the basic introduction of physics. When Mr. Reagan didn’t get the glass over his eyes like most people did at that point, he kept going. Matter, energy, light, gravity, the terms he studied and learned came out of him quickly. He talked about the sun and the stars as well as space and time.

“And I have...” Albert stopped short. He was about to say he had a friend he would talk to about this, but Albert could never talk about Marie here. Billy made it a hard and fast rule for him. It would be easier to keep his lives separate if everything about Marie stayed in the underground. Albert cleared his throat, trying not to act like he was altering what he was saying. Mr. Reagan looked as though he was trying to wrap his mind around some of the things Albert said, so hopefully he didn’t notice the slight pause. “I think about time theories a lot. Well, not a lot, but in my spare time.” Mr. Reagan ushered him to keep talking. “Things like how time passes, what it would take for time to pass differently.”

Mr. Reagan raised an eyebrow. “To pass … differently?”

“Yeah. Like maybe if you are suddenly able to run faster than the speed of light, but I can’t, would time freeze for me while you were running around,” Albert said.

Mr. Reagan was massaging his forehead. “Can you imagine? I’d just be a blur to you.”

“Actually, if you were going faster than the speed of light, you’d be invisible. Because how we see is by light hitting our retinas.” Albert placed a finger at the side of his face and tapped it by his eye. “The photoreceptors turn the light into electrical signals that travel to our brain through our optic nerve. The brain turns the signals into images we see. Therefore, if you’re traveling faster than the speed of light, the light would never catch up, and therefore other people would never see you.”

Mr. Reagan, who used his fist to prop his head up, dropped his hand with a thunk as he stared at Albert, wide-eyed. Mr. Reagan looked like he was in actual pain. Albert chewed on the inside of his lip. Maybe he said too much. This sounded like something a mad scientist would say.

“Not that I would ever, you know, be able to create anything like that. It’s just a theory,” Albert said.

“That’s…” Mr. Reagan let out a laugh. “That’s simply incredible!”

Albert smiled. “It’s amazing the places your mind goes when you’re playing a violin.”

“No kidding. You theorize about this kind of stuff while you play?” Mr. Reagan asked.

“Yeah. Music has its own beauty and order. The scientific world is just as beautiful and orderly to me. Both have their mysteries to be discovered.”

Mr. Reagan nodded. He absently opened his jar of jelly beans and put one in his mouth leaning back. “I hope you don’t find this insulting, but I’d say the science fiction genre of literature is one of my guilty pleasures.”

“Why would I find that insulting?” Albert asked.

“Because I know it’s not real science, but I find it fascinating all the same. Time travel, spaceships, aliens. Do you think those things are even possible?”

Albert gave a small smile. “Aliens, Mr. Reagan?”

Mr. Reagan gave a chuckle. “Okay, maybe not aliens.”

Albert’s work had remained untouched, but he honestly didn’t care. “I love science fiction. I think it’s brilliant.”

“Really?” Mr. Reagan asked as though he had just made a new friend.

“Yeah. I mean, science is fueled by ideas, no matter how farfetched. I literally just described how a person could turn invisible. And bend time. It’s a bunch of science fiction.” Until someone attempts to make it a reality, Albert added in his mind, but he definitely wasn’t going to say that out loud. That would absolutely make him sound like a mad scientist.

“Exactly! Though, sadly there aren’t as many science fiction stories out there right now,” Mr. Reagan said. “Probably has to do with people’s fear of the underground.”

Albert was afraid Mr. Reagan would be studying his face for any reaction. However, Mr. Reagan looked genuinely sad about the state of science fiction.

“Yeah. It’s a sad unintended consequence.”

“What do you think about the underground?” This time Mr. Reagan did look up to see the reaction on Albert’s face. Albert steadied his heart again, forcing his mind to remain calm as he thought of an answer.

“I think mad scientists should be stopped,” Albert said, feeling that was an easy answer to give. “They give the rest of us who want to study science a bad name.”

Mr. Reagan threaded his fingers together and placed his elbows against his desk. “But?”

“But what?”

Mr. Reagan gave a small shrug. “It sounded like there was a ‘but’ in there.”

His fingers found the spare pencil at his desk and he began to twirl it. Albert chewed on the inside of his cheek before letting out a breath. “But it would be nice if… if the S.E.A. officials didn’t lump everyone who loved science with mad scientists as well.”

Mr. Reagan nodded. “I can understand that.” A chime popped up on Mr. Reagan’s computer. He flicked his eyes over to see it, but Albert wasn’t ready to finish this conversation.

“And what about President Arnold?”

Mr. Reagan’s eyes shot back to Albert. “What about him?”

“You’re one of the people who know best the kind of leader he is. Do you think he’s a good one?” Albert asked.

Something on the ceiling held Mr. Reagan’s attention. The smallest hint of a frown formed on his face. Albert watched, curious. “His ability to pull us through one of the worst wars of humankind is certainly worthy of the titles and accolades he was given.”

Mr. Reagan wasn’t looking at Albert as he said this. “But?” Albert asked.

Finally Mr. Reagan looked at him. “But?”

Albert said nothing, only giving a little shrug. Once again Mr. Reagan gave a smile that made his eyes crinkle and Albert felt like he could trust anything he said. “But it’s silly that President Arnold’s laws and government have caused a teen boy to be afraid to talk to a Junior Official about his love of science.”

In the smallest part of Albert’s optimistic heart, a ray of hope shone through. Mr. Reagan might be the sympathetic leader the underground was looking for. With a little more time, Mr. Reagan could turn. Albert was certain of it now.

“Well, I better get started with work,” Albert said.

“Yeah, of course. There’s a lot of meetings to go through,” Mr. Reagan said as he turned back to his computer.

***

Marie’s dad was taking a nap, and Tom had finally come out of his room. It was clear Nik and Tom could not be in the same room with each other unless Marie’s dad was there to stop them from beating each other up, so Nik left for his own room. Sophie, after she finished her lunch, left for their shared room. Marie was sitting at the table, feeling better than she had in a while. Physically, at least. There was the ever present anxiety that her friends were in the center of the S.E.A., pretending they weren’t also trying to overthrow President Arnold’s power. And the fear that Sophie was befriending an old man who might actually be a mad scientist. And that Marie hadn’t seen the outside world in weeks and it was slowly driving her insane.

Tom sat down and started fiddling with an alarm clock, but it clearly wasn’t distracting him from the battle going on in his mind. It might be good to give him some privacy, but Marie found she couldn’t leave the table.

“So, what Nik said the other day at the meeting,” Marie started to say, knowing this wasn’t an easy conversation to have.

Tom set the alarm clock down and began unscrewing the back panel. “It was a different time, Marie.”

“Does your conscience believe that?” Tom winced, still not looking at Marie. “Did you really kill people?” Marie’s voice was softer. She couldn’t quite believe it, but the fact that Tom wasn’t refuting it right away made her stomach start to churn.

“The world was in chaos after the war for a few years,” Tom said. “We did what we had to do to regain order.” Tom slowly set down his screwdriver. “At least, that’s what Ben told me.” He said it with deep regret. “And maybe Nik is right.” He said this quieter. “Maybe I’m nothing more than a robotic scientist who only follows orders.”

Marie instinctively shook her head. “I’m sure he didn’t mean what he said.”

“No, he’s right. I thought of a lot of different ways to kill Ben in his sleep, but I never did. But if I had killed him, I would be the President of the city now. And it would be in just the state of chaos as it is right now,” Tom said.

“That’s not true. You’re kinder and more sympathetic to the sciences,” Marie said.

Tom met her eyes. “So? I still would have been in power. I still would have done what I needed to do to keep it. Still been paranoid of those under me. The only reason that I am where I am is because Ben won and I lost.”

Marie frowned. “Don’t you think you would have been a better ruler than Ben?”

Tom picked up his screwdriver and opened the back panel to the alarm clock. “No.”

Marie shook her head. “I don’t believe that.”

“You didn’t know who I was back then, Marie. Both Ben and I were hungry for power. To be the leader.” Tom stared at the insides of the alarm clock, blowing a bit of dust out of it, looking as torn apart as the device in front of him. “I hate the word failure, because it’s too harsh a word. You can always learn something from failure, and I guess I learned humility and compassion with my battle with Ben.”

Marie realized then how very old Tom looked. It made her realize how much more of life he had lived, how much more he had seen and suffered. It dawned on her why he kept mentioning how young she was. She already felt like she’d lived a lifetime with the stuff she’d seen. How many lifetimes had Tom lived?

A jolting pain ran down her arm and then was gone. Marie gasped in shock as she rubbed her shoulder. Tom looked up, concern filling his face. “Are you okay?”

Marie moved her arm around. “Yeah. I am now.” She stood up, continuing to move her arm. It was the same arm Charles had injected her with the cure. She tried not to feel nervous about it, but she couldn’t help but make the connection. “I need to write a note about this,” she said, glancing at the clock to memorize the time. “Just in case.”