The Atomic Weight of Secrets or The Arrival of the Mysterious Men in Black (46 page)

“Because...” started Jasper, but then he thought better of it. “Nothing,” he said instead. “We just thought we’d ask.”

The five children looked at one another. They didn’t want to tell their parents, for five very private reasons—Faye out of spite, Noah out of protection, Wallace out of fear, Jasper out of concern, and Lucy out of confusion. They also knew that after all the worrying they had done, they didn’t want anything more to worry about.

“I think it is safe to say,” Dr. Banneker said, looking at the other parents as if checking whether or not it was, in fact, safe to say, “I mean, what I can say—and I speak for all of us—is that, from what we have heard, Komar Romak is, we believe, a very bad man.”

Dr. Banneker looked at the children, who looked back, unsatisfied. He cleared his throat again. “All I know, and I don’t think it is saying too much... that is...” Dr. Banneker seemed to
consider his words carefully.

After what seemed like ages of silence, Miss Brett asked, “What
do
you know, Dr. Banneker?”

Dr. Banneker cleared his voice. “Komar Romak, as I have heard—as we have heard—was, I believe, originally... from Transylvania.”

“I am sure you mean Australia,” Gwendolyn Vigyanveta said. Then, blushing, she said, “I mean Austria, don’t I?”

“We know that his parents were in the circus,” said Dr. Canto-Sagas. “Or was it the symphony?”

“I had come to believe they were sailors,” Dr. Banneker said. “And they had joined the Spanish—no, it was the French Navy.”

“No, that isn’t what I heard,” Gwendolyn Vigyanveta said. “I am almost positive that his mother was a contortionist and his father, well, at least I am certain that they both were involved in a plot to steal the Crown Jewels. But that might have been ages ago.”

“Yes. Yes, indeed, there was a plot,” said Dr. Banneker, “but it was the emperor’s gold in China. And it was Romak’s mother, I thought, who had disguised herself as an acrobat in the caper.”

“No, not an acrobat. Komar Romak’s mother was disguised as a dancer,” Dr. Canto-Sagas said.

“No, that was his father,” said Isabelle Modest. “The mother was something else. A seamstress, I think. Or maybe a milliner.”

“I am sure I have heard the name in theatrical circles,” Ariana said, sipping from her flute of champagne. “I was under the impression that Komar Romak was the great Czechoslovakian escape artist. Yes, he was a teacher to that young American who is so famous in London right now—you know, they call him the
King of Handcuffs. Now, what was that young man’s name—ah, yes, Houdini. Yes, Komar Romak was the teacher of young Harry Houdini. Komar Romak the escape artist, that’s what he—”

“Nothing,” said the man in the black chef’s hat.

Everyone turned, surprised to hear him speak.

“Komar Romak is that,” he said.

“He is what?” asked Ariana.

“He is what,” said the man, serving helpings of sweet potatoes smothered in butter and maple syrup.

“What is he?” Miss Brett asked. “Komar Romak is what? What do you know of Komar Romak?”

“Nothing,” said the man.

“Nothing?” Ariana said. “But that’s impossible. You must—someone must know.”

“Two,” said the man.

“Nothing, too? Two? To what?” Miss Brett asked, leaning forward in her seat.

“Changes, escapes, but steals,” the man in the chef’s hat said. “And we fear him. Two. Always fear. Two. Always.” He then walked back into the kitchen.

There was silence for a while after that, until Faye, glaring across the table at her parents, finally said what had long been on her mind. “Was Komar Romak someone you knew might be around?” she asked. “Someone you knew might harm us?”

Her parents denied it instantly.

“We had no idea...” Dr. Canto-Sagas said. “We had no idea that he would—”

“He would what?” demanded Wallace.

“So you
did
know he might do something?” Lucy asked, her
eyes wide as saucers.

The parents all became quite interested in what was on their forks, and the whole set of them fell silent again.

The children, too, fell silent. It was difficult even to lift their eyes to look at anyone else.

Faye felt the burning anger rising in her face. She wanted to shout and accuse all of their parents of putting them in danger and not caring at all about any of them. She tried to breathe deeply, but her breath caught in her throat and anger was not the only thing that burned her cheeks. The sting of unwanted tears could not be wiped away by a mere napkin.

Noah could not believe his father could have known, but Dr. Canto-Sagas was looking down as well. Even Noah’s mother seemed unable to face her son.

Wallace leaned against the table with the arm that held his fork. His hand began to shake, although he didn’t know if it was from fear, hurt, or anger.

Jasper felt the weight of the world shift awkwardly on his shoulders. Once again, he carried the crushing fear of being the only one there for Lucy, and for the second time today, he felt it was she who was there for him.

Lucy was the only one who looked from face to face. Mystified and utterly confused, she did not know what to think and suddenly felt a stranger in the presence of her parents.

After several heavy moments, the silence was broken.

“Sweet Lucy, and all of you children,” said Dr. Tobias Modest, so softly his words seemed to carry on the silence. “You have been inadvertently, without your consent and without our desire, brought into a strange world. It is a world that remains a mystery,
even to us. The word magic comes to mind, but only in that things we do not understand seem to be magic. Things that have not yet been invented seem mythical and things first discovered seem... well, they can be terrifying, exciting, and miraculous.”

The children shot looks at one another. They understood all of this very, very well.

“It was never our intention to lead you into harm. It was, in fact, our intention to lead you out of harm’s way. This will be the course taken always. Please understand that there is much we cannot tell you right now, just as, it seems, there is much you feel you cannot tell us. We must tell you that some of what you hold secret is not unknown to us.”

Faye threw a look toward Jasper. But none of them would have, and certainly none of them had, any opportunity to tell anyone.

“There will be a time, perhaps very soon and perhaps not, that you will need to know all we know, and by then, you may know all the more. Until then...”

For the first time in Jasper and Lucy’s life, they saw tears form in the eyes of their father. Isabelle Modest placed a hand on her husband’s cheek and caressed it softly. “Until then,” Tobias said, “please know that we love you.”

Tobias Modest buried his face in his wife’s shoulder. Lucy and Jasper stood and embraced their parents.

As the inventors dressed for bed, there was much to think about. But as four of them finished dressing, a sound came through the halls that brought a strange calm among them.

Noah had found, lying on his bed, his violin. The bow was rosined and the strings tuned. Gingerly, he picked up the bow and found it taut and ready for use. He plucked the strings and found them in perfect tune.

As his mother began to hum Bach’s
Zerreiβet, zersprenget, zertrümmert die Gruft
from her dressing room in the bathing area of the cabin, Noah picked up the violin that felt, even after all these weeks, so natural beneath his chin. Plucking the string part he knew so well, Noah joined his mother so that voice and violin blended into perfect harmony.

Throughout the train, the sound of this lilting music filled the air and, as music does, it served to bring forth all the joy and sadness and triumph and defeat and pleasure each person on that train had ever felt, budding in each of them a strong, indistinct, but deeply personal blossom of emotion. The sound of Noah and Ariana flowed through the train, seeping into restless minds and pounding hearts.

That night, five young inventors were tucked into five warm, cozy beds. They were each kissed on the forehead by their parents. There had been moments of doubt and fear, not only about their safety, but also about their parents’ love. But there, in the close comfort of their cabins, they all did feel loved. Unquestionably loved.

Noah fell asleep to the sound of his mother’s voice. Faye rested comfortably as her parents fussed over her pillows and blankets.

And Lucy and Jasper went to bed wondering what the future held. Jasper felt under the pillow where Lucy always kept the journal. It wasn’t there.

“Where’s the journal?” asked Jasper.

“I gave it to Wallace to keep for now,” said Lucy.

Jasper was surprised. Lucy had always felt it was hers. “Why did you give it to Wallace?” he asked.

“Because I thought he should have it for now. For tonight,” said Lucy. “He needed it because he needed to know he was a hero.”

Jasper did not really follow the whole path of Lucy’s logic, but he understood the kindness his sister had shown Wallace. True, they were a team, but it was Wallace who had, in the end, saved the day—and saved Lucy. And he’d sacrificed the most important work of his life to do it.

Jasper reached his hand out to his sister. “Don’t be scared,” he said. “Whatever happens, we have each other.”

“I know,” Lucy said, reaching for Jasper with one hand and wiping her tears with the other. “But I’m afraid of Mummy and Daddy leaving us again.”

Jasper wanted to make her feel better, but he had no idea what tomorrow would bring.

As he lay on his bed, Wallace turned the last page on his last entry in the Young Inventors Guild journal. He smiled as he thought of Lucy’s funny gesture, offering for him to keep the journal. Lucy had an uncanny kind of honesty that held wisdom in its innocence. Wallace had decided to fill in the final notes from Sole Manner Farm, and when his work was complete, he placed in the book another page, a blank white page, waiting to be filled.
What goes there?
he wondered.

Smiling to himself, he tied the string around the book, placed the journal in his bag, and climbed down. Something came to him as he was pushing the journal under the bed. “Did mother sing to me, Father?” he asked.

He looked over at his father, who had fallen asleep still wearing his spectacles. Wallace got up and leaned over the edge of his father’s bed. He took off his father’s glasses and folded them, placing them on the bedside table.

Wallace yawned and felt the weight of sleep upon him. He was about to climb back into bed, but instead climbed in with his father. Cuddling close, he turned out the light.

Faye had a moment of uncertainty as she drew closer to slumber. She worried, just for a few moments, that maybe, just maybe, she had been prideful and wrong to believe it was the aeroplane that Komar Romak or Reginald Roderick Kattaning or whoever he was, wanted. In those twilight moments between awake and asleep, she considered that Reginald Roderick Kattaning had demanded the
thing.
“The
thing,”
he had said precisely, the
“thing”
and the
“pieces.”
Reginald Roderick Kattaning had indeed mentioned the aeroplane, of that she was sure, but did he actually ask for it?