Mom, I'm Bulletproof

Chapter 5.3: Totally Getting an A

"Yes, those are guns." Wendall sounded tired as he answered. "Laser guns, sonic guns, flame jets, and good ol' metal projectiles with gunpowder. When you give tours, you tell all the parents that weapons are forbidden on school grounds, but anything goes in the theory building. Liz doesn't like guns. Neither do I."

"Science or no science, this shouldn't be allowed."

"Ms. Kahror came through a while ago and said something about how weapons are where the money is, so she okayed it."

"She said something similar to me."

The students filed into the amphitheater. It sat about 200 people, even though only about 15 people had come out this night. Underclassmen presentations didn't get as much attention, Marci knew, while the end-of-year senior presentation were more elaborate affairs attended by the entire student body.

Liz stood on stage in a short but classy red skirt, with a shiny pair of black boots that stopped halfway up her knees. Marci made a mental note to ask where Liz got those boots.

"Thank you all for coming," Liz said, looking smarter than ever with her light brown hair pulled into a bun. My presentation tonight is about enhanced sharkskin."

Marci shot a glance at Wendall, sitting next to her. He appeared hypnotized by Liz's presence on stage.

Liz continued. "By 'sharkskin' of course, I don't mean the actual marine animal, which I would never dream of harming, no matter how many times the movie Jaws scared the pants off me every time I've seen it."

Everyone laughed politely, except for Wendall, who laughed loudly.

"Sharks have an extremely thick skin, but also extremely thin and smooth, helping them cut through water at great speed, despite their enormous size," Liz held up a small object. It appeared to be an ice cube, but not melting.

"This substance is based on a single cell of sharkskin. It might be light as a feather, but it is also dense enough to deflect a torpedo. Future submarines may very well be equipped with material such as this to make them tougher and more lightweight."

The audience started to applaud, but Liz stopped them by raising a hand.

"As much I'd like to take credit for these sharkskin cells, this technology has already been developed by minds far greater than mine. And I'm going to leave submarines to the experts."

Liz nodded to someone backstage and the curtain opened.

Inside, one the stage, Liz had erected a large stand holding what appeared to be a flat round disk made entirely of the sharkskin cubes. That was about seven feet across and held in place by a metal frame.

"Liz built that?" Marci said. "Impressive."

"Yeah, impressive," Wendall said.

On stage, Liz continued. "I've developed a new use for these cells. Not only are they strong enough to deflect damage, but slick enough cut through space and time the way a shark cuts through the water."

People in the audience shifted nervously. Marci wondered where Liz was going with this.

"Earlier this week, I used these cells to cut open space and time. That's how strong they are."

Liz held up a plastic vial, containing a few inches of sand.

"This is a soil sample taken from the year 1886. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you time travel."

The audience gasped. Marci said, "She's totally getting an A."

"Yeah, an A," Wendall said.

"I know what some of you are thinking." Liz walked to the front of the platform. "This could be dirt from anywhere. That's why we're recreating the experiment here, tonight. Afterward, I'll go over the process of how this was accomplished, and I will submit my calculations for review."

Liz flipped a switch on the front of the device, and its ensuing hum rumbled through the room. The platform's cells shimmered with a greyish-white light.

"You might be wondering about the theoretical troubles of time and travel, like paradoxes and causality and whatnot. Trust me, it's not a worry. No one's actually traveling anywhere. We're merely reaching into the past taking small bits. Soil samples, water samples, air samples. From this, we can compare the environment of the distant past to today. Perhaps, in the long run, this could result in cleaner air and water for today. Let's take an oxygen sample now."

Liz pulled out an empty vial. "All I have to do is reach inside and collect. I assure you it's perfectly safe, and in no way is this harming the past. It's not enough interaction in the time stream for anyone to notice."

Liz pressed her palm against the center of the disk. The sharkskin cells parted at her touch, revealing a bright white light floating from behind them. But, Marci knew, there was nothing actually beyond the cells. Liz had done it, Marci thought, she opened a hole in time itself.

"I've got the sample now," Liz said. "Once I extract my hand, the cells will close behind me, and not even the tiniest butterflies will know I was ever there."

She started to pull her arm out of the disc, but stopped. She tugged at her arm a few more times, but it wouldn't budge. "Um, Dr. Urant?"

The teacher hurried onto the stage. Liz whispered the next few words, but the amphitheater's perfect acoustics nonetheless carried her words to the audience. "Something's grabbed my wrist, but that can't be..."

The machine's hum turned into a loud squeal. Sparks shot out from the points where the metal met the sharkskin calls. The cells themselves vibrated, threatening to break apart.

Liz screamed, tears streaking down her face. "Oh God, it's going to rip my arm off!"

"Let go of the vial," Urant said, keeping a grip on Liz's arm.

"If I do, it'll contaminate the past."

"It's either that or your arm."

Marci sat forward in her chair, wondering what she could do. The last thing she wanted was to see her best friend's arm severed by a time machine. Next to her, Wendall leaned forward even farther in his chair. "Liz," he said softly.

Dr. Urant held Liz's arm just above the elbow. "Nice and slowly now. Pull."

Liz grimaced as they both slowly pulled her arm upward. It seemed to work at first, with Liz's arm slowly ebbing out of the disc.

Then, the audience gasped as they saw a hand come out of the disc,grasped around Liz's wrist. It was clothed in a dusty brown leather glove andcaked in dirt, holding tight to Liz with no intention of letting go.

# # # # 

Next: Confusion and anger.