'Zachary Dent.' She said. Perhaps I can see up close why the Principal was so secretive about this man, could it be mere confidentiality, I think not, this very man was the head of the SOSRAC physics department, a position that my father should have held, but he rejected multiple times for unknown reasons. For most of his scientific career, Mr. Dent had to live with the fact that he was the second smartest physicist alive and was only my father's boss because Javièr Hernàndez didn't want the job.
Still, the question remains, whether or not he at least partly responsible for my fathers disappearance - he certainly had a motive. And if he is a suspect, why is he here? To kill me too? Does SOSRAC know about what I did at my previous high school? So many questions are raised by the mere presence of one Zachary Dent, and the answers to some, if not all, lie in physics class.
The answer comes into class on a hover board. I didn't think it was possible, but I am actually surprised when Mr. Dent floats several inches above the ground into the room.
"Don't mind me, I'm just an old boring dude with a really cool hover board." He says. The board in question possesses a sleek sheen hosting neon green veins that seem to be there purely aesthetically.
"What are you doing?" A student at the front row asks.
"Walking is just so last century. In this day and age, hover boards are all the rage." He explains, stepping down from his hover board. It looks like a regular skateboard, but stood steady at about six inches above the ground.
"Or should I say, they will be, once they are released to the public in a week, but out of the benevolence of my heart, I'll teach you all how to make one, or at least, the basic principles behind it." Mr. Dent offers.
"I'm not complaining, but I thought we were having a test." The same student at the front says, I really need to learn these peoples' names.
"We could do that, or we could break open one of these insanely expensive bad boys and put it back together."
"I vote against the test. Which of you nerds is going to back me up?" He - the nameless, front of the class male - says the last part to the rest of the class.
"I'm afraid it's not that simple. You don't do the test if and only if one of you can answer this one question." Mr. Dent says.
I was wondering what the catch was, now I know.
"So the deal is, one of us has to pass your test so the rest of those don't have to write it at all? I don't see how this is fair, if we all fail, we get to write two tests." Sasha points out.
"It's not so much a test as it is a single question, but, yeah, that's the deal. Any takers?" He looks around the classroom.
"For a second there I thought you were a cool teacher." The boy at the front says.
"What's the question?" Jake asks. "It can't be too hard."
Mr. Dent smiles. "I like the confidence on this one. Alright, if a man in a flight suit with an inertial dampener is on a space vessel in which he can see three spheres, containing alpha, beta and gamma rays respectively, why does he jerk in the direction of the shuttle when it takes off?"
"A riddle? I was under the impression that this was physics class not philosophy." Jake says.
"A riddle, yes. But a physics riddle nevertheless, making it a perfect question to test the minds of you little geniuses." Mr. Dent waits a little for a response, when none is forthcoming he asks, "so none of you can answer this question? Not even one person? Giving you a test now would be cruelty, let's just forget about it, we'll have a regular class."
"Photomagnetism." I say.
"What was thay?" Mr. Dent asks, A smile teasing his lips.
"Javièr's Law Of Photomagnetism. That's how he jerked. The inertial dampener was overcome by the photomagnetic force created in the shuttle. From Einstein, we know that electrons are emitted when light hits the metal interior of the space shuttle, the gamma sphere is probably a power source and before it could sustain the ship, some beta particles ionized the air and gave a repulsive force in reaction to the charged metal, jerking him back."
"How do you know about that law?" Mr. Dent asks, next to me in the middle of the class.
"The world's greatest physicist and my father created that law, there's no reason for me to not know it." I say.
"No test for today." Mr. Dent says as he returns to the front of the class. "The apple doesn't fall to far from the tree, if it did, Newton would have thought gravity was a baseball pitcher. Alberto is it?"
"I go by Albert."
"Alberto then." Mr. Dent confirms. He then turns to the hover board that by now has stopped floating, and picks it up before knocking on its base twice. The result is that it collapses in his hand and bits of it fall to the floor.
"Who's ready to learn something fun?" Mr. Dent asks. As one might imagine, the response of the class was unanimous if you don't count me, but no one does, so it was unanimously decided that we learn about SOSRAC'S new toy.
After the class, Mr. Dent approaches me. "Alberto, how have you been?"
"Good. You knew my father." It isn't a question but more of a statement.
"Yes I did. Sometimes I felt like I knew him better than Vanessa. He was a good man, it's a shame you didn't get to know him. I'm truly sorry for your loss." He says.
"Thank you for your condolences Mr. Dent." I reply.
"Oh please, call me Sack, I'm practically your godfather." Mr. Dent - I mean, Sack - says.
"For a godfather you were questionably absent from my life." I accuse.
"To be honest with you, I couldn't look you in the eye, I couldn't face Vanessa after what I did." Sack starts but I cut him off.
"After what you did? You're telling me that you're responsible for my father's disappearance?" I ask.
"No! Nothing like that. I was jealous, when I was supposed to be happy for him. He had just presented MADEF, the Heads Of Society looked pleased and a barrier came between them and me. I thought it was because they valued the privacy of his work and got a little jealous so I left. Hours later, Javier was missing." Sack explains.
"You say 'missing' like you believe he's still alive." I observe.
"Well he was confirmed dead after that, but, Albert, you don't believe he's still alive do you?" He asks.
"Of course not. He died almost sixteen years ago." I answer. By 'confirmed', he means that grainy image of his bluing corpse that was sent anonymously to Interpol.
Sack nods like he doesn't believe me. He may be English, but contrary to what Americans of the past thought, that doesn't mean he's stupid.
"You still worked with SOSRAC after that, what happened to the project my father was presenting?" I ask.
"The ones that took him, took it as well, it wasn't recovered." Sack says. "But, I was able to recover this from the apartment I shared with him in Detroit."
He pulls a leather-bound book out from his back pocket and hands it to me.
"What is this?" I enquire as I take it.
"It's your chance at getting to know your father. A journal he kept from his freshman year. He didn't update it daily, or even weekly, but he wrote whatever he felt was important. He told me he wanted you to have it." Sack says.
"Why did you wait this long to give it to me?" I ask.
"I didn't wait. I only just found it while trying to move out. I couldn't stay there, too many memories." Sack tells me.
"It took you over a decade to find one journal?" I ask.
"No Alberto. It took me over a decade to be strong enough to look for it, I've already sold the house but before I did, I found it while packing up my attic." He answers.
"Thank you. If that is all, I'll be leaving now." I announce, heading for the door.
"Yeah. Take care of yourself Alberto." Mr. Dent says.
I pause at the door. "Sack, I haven't answered to that name for almost as far back as I can remember - which is pretty far back - I'm not about to start now. Please call me Albert."
Just before I step out, Sack calls out, "wait. I almost forgot to give you this."
He stretches his hand, in it, is a business card.
"For your mother, I'd like to get I touch with her again." He explains.
I only give a nod.
On my way out of the classroom, voices reach my ears. It's not hard to place who they belong to, Jacob and Michael.
"What would the school think of your when I tell them she spent the summer in a reform school?" Jacob threatens.
"They'll finally know you've lost it. They won't believe you." Michael fires back.
"I'm sure they will. I can be very convincing." Jacob tells him. I'm just around the corner, slightly interested in this exchange.
"That wasn't a part of the deal Jacob, leave her out of this." Michael says.
"Or what? Are you going to grow a pair and do something? No, you're not, because you can't beat me at anything. I'll stop if you can convince Sasha to-" Jacob is cut off by Michael's next comeback.
"She'd rather eat literal shit than take metaphorical crap from you."
So much for not swearing often. What deal is he talking about?
"I'll beat the crap out of you and see if she'll take it." Jacob snarls before grabbing Michael's collar.
"Are you going to kiss him or what?" I ask, stepping out to be visible to both boys. I don't know what makes me step out, maybe I think that being acknowledged will somehow give me more information, and there's nothing more valuable than information.
"What?" They ask at the same time, equally shocked.
"I asked if you're going to kiss. No? Then I suggest you let go of him, the world will feast on your family name if they could see you now." I tell Jacob, staring him right in the eye.
"What are you implying, Albert?" Jacob asks, his eyes warning me to be cautious.
I ignore the warning. "I'm not implying anything Jacob. I just want you to know that you're not the only one who can make threats."
My thinly veiled threat hangs in the air between us, clearly weighing on Jacob's mind. Fortunately for him, he makes the smart choice and lets go of Michael while taking a step back.
"Alright, what would it take to keep your mouth shut?" He enquires.
"You leave the twins alone." I answer.
Jacob barks out a laugh in response and Michael's eyes become as wide as saucers.
"That's not going to happen. You have no business with what's going on here." Jacob says.
"No. But neither does the press, that doesn't mean they won't get involved if they know." I counter.
Jacob seems to ponder my offer for a bit, then makes a decision. "I'll leave them alone, only if you can beat me at a little game."
At this point, Michael's eyes were even wider as he frantically shakes his head at me, pleading with his eyes for me not to take the deal.
"I don't see why I need to beat you, let me make it clear, leave Michael and Sasha Reid alone, or all the Journalists in the country would know about your violent tendencies." I step even closer to Jacob, my voice steely.
He steps to me as well, looking down at me when our faces are inches from each other. "Let me make this clear, I don't give too many damns about the press. The only way you'll get what you want from me, is if you do what Mike couldn't, and beat me in a game of my choosing."
"What game?" I concede. There's no use playing with the bad publicity card, it's clearly of no concern to someone as powerful as a Xanderidge.
A wicked smile on Jacob's face gives him an appearance of someone with a trump card. "Basketball."
The resulting sigh from Michael tells me I've lost, though I'm yet to know how if I haven't even played the game yet.
"Name a time and place Xanderidge." I tell Jacob, not backing down.
"School courtyard, five minutes. If you lose, you become an associate of mine."
"And that entails?" I question.
He turns to smile at Michael before he answers, "taking my crap."
"Five minutes Albert." Jacob calls as he walks away.
"Albert, you don't have to do this, Jake will beat you." Michael tells me as soon as Jacob is out of earshot.
"You sound so sure." I comment.
"Maybe it's because he's captain of the Xanderidge basketball team, and has won several trophies at state and national competitions." Michael informs me.
"So?" I ask, unfazed. "Even if he's beaten so many people, he's never played me."
"Are you particularly good at basketball? You don't look the type." He remarks, obviously referring to my small size.
"First time playing."
"And you hope to beat one of the best in the country?" Michael asks, incredulous.
"I don't hope to, I fully intend to." Jacob doesn't know what's coming to him, years of honing my body to its peak in regards to flexibility, agility and awe-inspiring hand-eye coordination all make it so that I'll absolutely embarrass him.