The Typhon Project

Chapter 10: The Heroic Barista

My heart raced with excitement as Dean and I walked the sidewalk toward the tallest building on The Farm--the Tesla coil, where they were trying to figure out how to fix the magnetic field. If that was even possible.

Dean hitched his backpack higher on his shoulder. "You know what we should do after work duty?"

I tossed my head back. Not again. "Play Zombie Epoch?"

"Yes, we should. I'm glad you suggested it."

"No, Dean."

He nudged me with his elbow. "Come on."

"Seriously, Dean. I don't want to play."

"Well, you like to read right?"

I furrowed my brow. His question had to be a trap. "Yeah, I like to read." I answered slowly, watching his expression.

He swept hand in front of him. "Then, you'd love story mode. It has excellent story lines."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not a gamer."

He chuckled. "Well, nobody's perfect, but you can change."

We came to a glass door. Dean pressed his thumb to a silver pad to the left of the door and opened automatically. "You'll get set up in the security system today." He motioned for me to go in first.

We came to a second door. Grasping the handle, he asked, "Are you ready?"

"Um, yeah."

He shrugged. "I'm just making sure."

He pressed his thumb to another pad and a steel door swung open. We stepped inside a huge room. The door closed behind us, the sound  echoed through the room. A series of computers lined the outer circle of a colossal room. Typhon men and women in white coats sat in front of screens and others roamed around inspecting equipment.

At the center of the room, a massive coil the width of a semi truck spiralled above us. My mouth popped open and I gasped. I peered up, up, up trying to find the top, but it disappeared into the darkness high above me.

"Amazing, eh?" Dean said.

"Wow." Mind blown.

"Dean," a man's voice called out. One of the men in white coats waved him over. I fixed my mouth shut and hurried behind him. The man's bushy grey eyebrows were knit together in an irritated glare. "Who is this?"

I took a step backward. Dean grabbed my elbow and pulled me a step closer to the white-haired man. "This is Leah, she was assigned . . . ."

He huffed and shook his head. "Oh, yes, yes, yes. Of course. I received a memo about that."

"This is Leah. Leah this is Dr. Burns."

I opened my mouth to say hello, but he turned away from us. He waved us away. "Take her in the back and get her prints uploaded. And then get me some coffee." Dr. Burns marched toward an apparatus with roughly a million wires connected to it..

Dean turned to me and smiled. "See, glamorous and heroic." He pointed upward. "To the coffee!"

I chuckled and followed him into a room at the back that smelled of stale burnt coffee. We walked around a long table with mismatched chairs that sat at the center of the room and passed desks piled with papers and file folders to a long counter with a sink, coffee maker and a bar fridge. After delivering the coffee to Dr. Burns, Dean scanned my fingerprints and set up my security access.

With some difficulty, Dean pried open a drawer in one of the desks and stuck his hand inside. "I'm about to show you a most important and sacred document. This will be the difference between surviving at the coil or getting kicked down to jock strap duty in the athletic quadrant. Are you ready?"

I nodded. He whipped his hand out of the drawer and, with a flourish, handed me a sheet of paper. I looked it over—a spreadsheet with the names of all the scientists and how they liked their coffee. Black. Cream no sugar. Sugar no cream. Two creams one sugar. The title at the top read, GREEN'S THEORY OF FLUID DYNAMICS.

"Thanks."

"No problem. I got your back."

Dean showed me around and introduced me to a bunch of scientists who I don't think cared to meet me. I itched to know what all the equipment was for and what they were working on, but Dean cautioned me against talking to them, so I bombarded Dean with questions. He knew what most of it was and tried to explain, but Dr. Burns shushed us.

A heavy weight settled into the pit of my stomach. Dean had warned me that working in the coil wasn't as great as everyone thought it was, but part of me assumed he was kidding. I thought maybe I'd be able to make a difference working in here, but I was just a volunteer barista.

And since Dean wouldn't risk me to make the coffee, I had nothing to do. The afternoon seemed to stretch on and on.

"What time is it?" Dean asked as he emptied  used coffee grounds into the garbage.

I glanced down at my watch. Three o'clock? That can't be. I looked closer. The second hand was stalled out over the six. I tapped the crystal hoping to get it moving, but it didn't budge. The battery must be dead. 

Then, the compass caught my eye. The needle pointed due north. It hadn't pointed north in years.

"Leah?" 

"What?"

"The time."

I placed my hand over the time piece and compass. "My watch stopped."

Dean sighed. "I'll go find a clock. I'm dying here."

When Dean returned, he reported that we worked five minutes of overtime. We both hurried from the building. Outside, Dean theatrically fell onto the grass and lay spread eagle in the sunshine. "We lived to tell the tale!"

I laughed. It did feel good to be out in the fresh air after being in that stuffy back room for most of the day.

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After dinner, I went to my room and pulled out my calculus book. I stared at the pages, the numbers and letters blurring. I leaned back in my chair and peered up at the ceiling. I didn't feel like doing Calculus. My watch . . . Dad's watch needed fixing anyway. Priorities. Anything connecting me to my family was more important than homework.

I unbuckled the band and set the watch on my desk. I rubbed my wrist, naked without the keepsake on it. I slid my thumb nail under the backing to see what size of battery I needed to pick up.

The stainless steel back popped off and something fell out of the watch and onto the floor. I picked up a tiny square of folded white paper. I turned it over and then carefully, I unfolded it.

It was Dad's writing. I'd recognize it anywhere.

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Thanks for reading! I'll post another installment next Saturday.