Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Early the next morning, Ben’s laptop alerted him to an incoming email from Marjorie Tran just as he was trying to decide whether the video for his YouTube channel that he’d edited the day before was salvageable or whether he should dump the whole thing in the trash and start over.
He knew he’d been distracted, and it showed in the rough transitions and the one time he even cut himself off at the wrong point.
Okay, into the trash it went.
He glanced at the clock in the upper right-hand corner of his laptop. Six forty-seven, which meant Marjorie must have been up even earlier than he — probably not a good sign.
That suspicion was confirmed as he read the subject line.
“Re: Silver Hollow Data — URGENT — Please Call ASAP”
Subtle. He opened the email, pretty sure he wasn’t going to like what it said, but also knowing he couldn’t ignore the damn thing.
I’ve finished analyzing the electromagnetic readings I collected during my field work in Silver Hollow, and I need to discuss this with you immediately.
The data patterns are unlike anything I’ve encountered before.
I’m not exaggerating when I say I don’t think anyone has seen anything like this before.
The frequency signatures suggest a previously unknown type of electromagnetic field generation, possibly indicating natural phenomena that haven’t been documented yet. The energy output readings are so anomalous that I’ve run the analysis three times to make sure my equipment wasn’t malfunctioning.
I know you asked me to keep this confidential, but this is exactly the kind of breakthrough that could change everything in my academic career.
I’m planning to present preliminary findings to my dissertation committee next week, and if they approve, I want to submit a paper to the Journal of Atmospheric Physics by month’s end.
Please call me as soon as you get this. I have so many questions about the local conditions and environmental factors that might have influenced the readings. Your knowledge of the area could be crucial for contextualizing the data.
MT
P.S. My advisor, Dr. Gupta, is already excited about the implications. She thinks this could attract funding for a long-term monitoring station in the area.
Ben stared at the screen, his pulse hammering in his ears.
This was a calculated risk he’d chosen to take when he asked Dr. Ogilvy to see if someone in the UC Davis physics department could come and get some readings around town.
However, after Marjorie Tran arrived, Ben had hoped she would find some conventional explanation for the electromagnetic disturbances, something that would help him and Sidney understand what they were dealing with while at the same time not exposing Silver Hollow to outside scrutiny.
Instead, Marjorie had done what any good scientist would do when confronted with impossible data.
She’d decided to publish it.
He scrolled down to the attachment, a detailed technical analysis that was filled with graphs and charts and terminology that looked extremely impressive, even though he didn’t understand most…
well, pretty much all…of it. Marjorie had also included satellite imagery of Silver Hollow, with the anomalous readings overlaid in bright red indicators that made the town look like the epicenter of some kind of electromagnetic earthquake.
Which, he supposed, it was.
His phone buzzed, and he picked it up to see a text from Sidney.
Are you up for an early hike?
Ben glanced toward the window, where the morning looked gray and foggy as usual. Not the most inviting conditions, but he knew if he held out for a fully sunny day before venturing into the forest, he’d probably be waiting for a long, long time.
Sure. We need to talk about some things. Meet at your place in ten minutes?
Okay.
Ben closed the laptop and headed over to the bedroom so he could get some clothes on, even as he tried to figure out how to explain this latest complication to Sidney.
Bad enough that Agent Morse and Dr. Rosenthal were investigating Silver Hollow’s electromagnetic anomalies.
Now he might have inadvertently triggered an invasion of atmospheric physicists who would want to set up monitoring stations and conduct long-term studies.
All because he’d tried to be responsible and get expert analysis of the data so they’d know what they were really dealing with.
Well, self-recriminations wouldn’t get him very far, so instead he concentrated on finding a pair of jeans that were clean enough to wear but not so pristine that he’d have to worry about getting them dirty while he was out on the trail.
He’d wondered if Sidney was still going to open late today, considering she hadn’t gotten to the pet store until almost noon the day before, but he supposed she’d decided to stick with the schedule most of her customers expected.
Once he was dressed, he picked up his backpack, shoved his phone in his jacket pocket, and headed over to Sidney’s house. When she opened the door, she was similarly dressed, her long brown hair pulled into a scrunchie the way she always seemed to wear it when she was venturing out into the woods.
“What’s wrong?” she asked as soon as she got a good look at his face.
“A whole lot,” Ben said, then dug his phone out of his pocket. “I may have just accidentally invited the entire scientific community to study our interdimensional portal problem.”
He handed the phone to her, and the friendly pink in her cheeks paled as she gazed down at the email from Marjorie Tran. Sidney appeared to read through it twice, her expression growing more worried with each pass.
“She seriously wants to publish this?” she asked at last as she gave the phone back to him. “Even after you asked her to keep everything confidential?”
“Academic research doesn’t work that way,” Ben said, even as he did his best to keep the frustration out of his voice.
In a way, he couldn’t really blame Marjorie, because he was fairly certain he would have made the same decision if he’d been in a similar position while writing his dissertation.
Sidney — even though she’d been working toward a very challenging degree herself — most likely didn’t understand how cutthroat the academic world could be.
“When you find something this significant, the pressure to publish is enormous. Career-making discoveries don’t stay secret. ”
They’d been moving slowly toward the living room as they were speaking, and Sidney sank onto the sofa as soon as she got near. “So…what do we do? Can you call Marjorie and explain why she can’t publish?”
Ben chuckled, but he knew there was no humor in the sound.
“And tell her what? That Silver Hollow has an interdimensional portal that’s affecting electromagnetic fields?
That shadow stalkers are causing power outages?
She’d either think I was having a mental breakdown, or she’d want to study it even more closely. ”
Sidney frowned, delicately arched brows pulling together. “Then we need to find another way to stop her.”
Crazy as the notion seemed, now Ben wondered if that was even the best approach. “Do we?” he asked quietly. “Maybe this is exactly what Silver Hollow needs — scientific scrutiny that forces everything out into the open.”
Sidney stared at him as if he was high on Humboldt County’s number-one export. “You can’t be serious.”
“Think about it,” Ben said, even though some part of him still couldn’t believe he was considering this.
Possibly, he was stepping into the role of devil’s advocate, and yet he knew it was a good idea for them to consider all the angles before they made any real decisions.
“Right now, we’re dealing with federal agents who think we’re hiding something, a mayoral candidate who’s using our problems for political gain, and interdimensional creatures that we barely understand.
Maybe having some legitimate scientists involved would actually help. ”
“Or maybe it would turn Silver Hollow into a circus,” Sidney returned, her chin now set at a stubborn angle.
“You think a bunch of researchers with equipment and theories are going to be able to handle shadow stalkers? You think they’re going to respect the fact that some things are better left alone? ”
She had a point. Ben had spent enough time in academic circles to know that scientific curiosity rarely prioritized discretion or local concerns. If atmospheric physicists descended on Silver Hollow en masse, they’d want to measure and document everything, regardless of the consequences.
“So…what do you suggest?” he asked.
Sidney was quiet for a long moment, fingers tapping against the knees of her jeans. Finally, she said, “Call her. Try to buy us some time. Tell her you need to verify the data or something — anything to delay publication until we can figure out a better solution.”
Getting them some breathing space sounded like a great idea. He began to pull out his phone again, then paused. “I’ll do what I can. But Marjorie’s not going to wait forever, especially if she thinks this could make her career.”
“Then we’d better come up with a plan fast,” Sidney said.
By three-thirty that afternoon, Ben was beginning to think their morning hike had been the high point of the day.
They’d found what looked suspiciously like griffin paw prints near the old logging road — massive impressions with distinct claw marks that no local wildlife could have made — but otherwise, the woods had been peaceful.
Sidney had seemed more relaxed out there, away from the mounting pressures in town, and for a few hours, Ben had almost been able to forget about Marjorie’s email and the looming threat of Dr. Rosenthal’s arrival.
Well, until he spotted a convoy of black SUVs pulling into Silver Hollow’s main parking area behind City Hall.