The Journal of Curious Letters (The 13th Reality #1)

“ . . . and so by observing an electron, you are actually deciding where it is, what position it’s in, what speed it’s moving. And another person could be doing an alternate experiment at the same time, observing the same electron, but in a totally different position. Now, this is getting on the fringe of what the real experts say, but some people think an electron and other particles can literally be in more than one place at once—an infinite number of places!”


Tick felt like he was a pretty smart kid, but some of Mr. Chu’s words made as much sense to him as an opera sung in pig latin. But that last sentence really made him think. “Wait a minute,” he said, stopping his teacher. “You keep talking about these little guys like they’re in a different universe. But aren’t those tiny things inside my body, inside this chair, inside this desk? Isn’t the big world you talked about just a whole bunch of the little worlds?”

Mr. Chu clapped his hands. “Brilliant!”

“Huh?”

“You nailed it, Tick, exactly.” Mr. Chu stood up and paced around the room in excitement as he continued talking. “They’re not really separate sciences—they have to be related because one is made of the other. An atom is a bunch of tiny particles, and you, my friend, are nothing but a bunch of atoms.”

“Right.”

“This is where all the crazy, crazy theories come in—the ones that are so fascinating. One theory is that time travel is possible because of quantum physics. I don’t buy that one at all because I think time is too linear for time travel to work.”

Tick’s head hurt. “Are there any you do believe in?”

“I don’t know if believe is the right word, but there are some I sure love to think about.” He paused, then sat back down at his desk and leaned forward on his elbows, looking into Tick’s eyes. “One theory says there are different versions of the world we live in—alternate realities. An infinite number of them. If it can happen on the teensy-tiny level, why not on the big fat level too? All it would take is some vast manipulation of all those little particles that make up the big particles. Who knows—there might be some force in the universe, some law we don’t know about, that can control quantum physics and even create or destroy different versions of our own world.”

Mr. Chu had talked nonstop without breathing and finally took a big gulp of air.

“Sounds like it’d make a sweet movie,” Tick said, trying to act like a normal kid with simple interests. But the truth was his thoughts were spinning out of control. Different versions of the world! Though he couldn’t quite piece it all together, he knew this might explain where Mothball and Rutger came from.

“Oh, trust me, it’s been done,” Mr. Chu replied. “Especially the time travel part of it—but nothing I’ve seen that I like yet.” He yawned. “I’ve talked your poor ear off for long enough, big guy. If you’re really serious about studying Q.P., you should get a book or two from the library. It’s fun stuff, especially for nerds like you, I mean, me.” He smiled as he stood up and held out his hand. “Nice talking to you, Tick. It’s always great to have students who actually care about what they’re learning.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Tick said as he stood to leave. “See you tomorrow.” He slung his backpack onto his shoulder and headed for the door. At the last second before leaving, another teacher—Ms. Myers—poked her head in from the hallway.

“Reginald, do you have a moment?” she asked. “I need to talk about parent-teacher conferences.”

“Sure,” Mr. Chu replied. “Come on in. Tick, we’ll see you later. Thanks for coming by.”

Tick almost dropped his books at the word Reginald, the coolness of their entire conversation fading into a disturbing, eerie feeling in his stomach. He forced out a good-bye then quickly exited into the hallway.

He couldn’t believe it, but he knew he’d never heard his favorite teacher’s first name before. It was Reginald? His name was Reginald Chu?

Tick suddenly felt very, very ill.





Chapter


31




~





Paul’s Little Secret


Tick lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling of his room as the last rays of the sun faded from the day, casting a darkly golden glow to the air. His stomach felt like someone had jacked up an industrial hose and pumped in five tons of raw sewage.

Reginald Chu.

He had thought it was all just a coincidence, but that was before he’d learned Mr. Chu’s first name. Rutger said the founder and owner of Chu Industries, the ones who manufactured the Gnat Rat and had done “awful, awful things,” was a man named Reginald Chu. Could there really be two people with that name in the world, much less two who both loved science? And who had both crossed paths with a kid named Atticus Higginbottom?

No way.

But then . . . how could his favorite teacher be someone who owned a major company the world had never heard of? Tick had looked up Chu Industries several times on the Internet, only to find nothing. Of course, he hadn’t looked up the name Reginald Chu yet.