RESIDUAL
Chapter 4: INTERFERENCE
Stepping into Grover Cleveland Middle School was like entering a completely different reality. The faded white walls, scuffed linoleum floors, and splashes of color were a disorienting change compared to the recent environments Mira had spent her time in. Drab government hallways devoid of any life were replaced by vibrant posters advertising clubs. Sterile air devoid of any scent was now filled with the scent of old pizza and P.E. equipment. Where before, hushed chatter and security radios echoed all around, now the corridors were filled with the sounds of teachers calling for students’ attention, kids laughing and screeching, and faint whistles from a far-off gymnasium.
A small group of nearby students gathered around an open locker giggled to one another over a video on a phone, and Mira frowned. These children had no idea that the next thirty years of their lives were going to be hell.
They had no idea of the world they were going to inherit.
One of the young girls in the small group couldn’t seem to stop her eyes from resting on another boy from across the hall; she clasped her hands tightly under a binder clutched to her chest and rocked up on the balls of her feet, as if she were deciding whether to run or not.
Mira’s observational brain immediately clocked a crush brewing between the youth. But she couldn’t spare time to marvel at the sight of young love.
Not while the Petrova Line was hovering over her shoulder like a spectral demon waiting to pounce.
The last few weeks had passed by in a blur of government briefings, impromptu flights to different countries, and sleepless nights. Just the day before, the ArcLight probe sent up into space in collaboration with Russia's NASA equivalent, Roscosmos, had splashed down with a sample of the Petrova Particles. And all the while, Eva Stratt had done her absolute damndest to organize an elite taskforce dedicated to saving the human species.
She’d assembled a lab team, the aid of countless nations around the globe, military — including a whole Chinese aircraft carrier to serve as a base of operations — and a communications specialist in the form of Mira Bennett, whose sole task was to somehow make all of these people work together rather than squabble like children. All Stratt was missing was a talented molecular biologist to figure out what the particles were, and she would stop at nothing to get what she wanted.
Apparently, Ryland Grace was more than just a science teacher. Once a respected academic, the middle-aged man had gotten himself a Doctorate in Molecular Biology, then proceeded to write a paper detailing life on other solar systems and how it doesn’t need water to evolve. However, it wasn’t the idea of the paper itself that got the scientist kicked out of academia, but rather the eloquent words he had for one of the leading scholars in his field.
”He called them a ‘staggering waste of carbon’?” Mira had said to Stratt incredulously during the assignment brief days prior. It was one of the rare times that the Communications Specialist had allowed any type of emotion to enter her voice.
After Stratt did not reply for a moment, too busy examining a document in front of her, Mira continued, “Are you sure he’s the right guy? There are hundreds of other molecular biologists we could contact.” She paused for a moment. “Eva, I’m not sure he would be the best fit for collaborating with a team if that’s how he chooses to address other colleagues in his field.”
”For this mission to be successful, I need someone who doesn’t shy away from the status quo.” Stratt folded her hands tightly and rested them on the tabletop. “We need to exhaust all options, even the most unlikely ones. We are humanity’s last hope. It is, as you Americans call it…” The red-haired woman trailed off, seeming to search for the exact phrase.
Mira gazed at Eva Stratt as the words tumbled around in her brain. She was correct, they only had one chance to get this right. Mira took a deep breath.
”A Hail Mary.”
The tiniest flicker of a smile curved Stratt’s mouth. She cocked her head to the side slightly, as if she were seeing the brunette in a different light.
“Yes. A Hail Mary.”
Mr. Cox, the principal of Grover Cleveland and Mira’s current escort, stopped outside of an open classroom. From within, a man’s nasally voice rang out loudly, enthusiastically describing different types of sound waves and their physical forms.
Right away, without even seeing his face, Mira recognized a teacher dedicated to keeping his students engaged rather than just talking at them. She could almost picture the way his arms waved wildly, attempting to mimic the movement of the waves with fervor.
She hung back as Mr. Cox rapped a knuckle on the open doorway to signal their arrival. Mira peered around his tall shoulder. Dr. Ryland Grace was a picture-perfect mimic of Mira’s imaginary snapshot, down to the pantomiming and everything.
His sandy-brown hair was ruffled messily and the glasses on the edge of his nose tilted slightly to the right. He wore a blue-striped button up with a red tie, which was cinched neatly at his throat, to Mira’s approval. His broad shoulders were clothed in a grey suit-jacket. However, the top half of his attire was where the endorsement ended, because he wore light blue jeans and loosely tied white Converse.
He doesn’t place much stock on looking professional, Mira noted to herself quietly. Already not off to a great start, and she hadn’t even gotten to sit down.
Dr. Grace paused mid puppet show and looked over at the duo standing in his doorway with wide ocean-blue eyes. A few students smiled and called out a greeting to Mr. Cox.
”Apologies for the interruption, Mr. Grace,” Mr. Cox began. He stepped aside to allow Mira the room to enter the classroom. “This is Miss Bennett. She’s here with the district and is sitting down to evaluate teachers in an effort to gauge their teaching style.”
Ignoring Dr. Grace’s confused expression, Mira nodded curtly. “Hello Mr. Grace. We just want to get a feeling for what is and isn’t working for the students here at Grover Cleveland Middle so that we can distribute the data across other schools in the district.”
Straight to the point, no overexplaining. We will take care of the paperwork needed. That’s what Stratt had told her in terms of an alibi for the evaluation of the scientist.
Dr. Grace allowed his arms to fall to his sides briefly before quickly glancing once at his seated students. He quickly pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and approached the doorway.
“I’m sorry, I’m not, uh, sure I understand.” He gave a nervous laugh that was more irritation than humor. “Why wasn’t I told this would be happening?”
He takes his teaching schedule seriously. Doesn’t appreciate interruptions.
Before Mr. Cox could speak, Mira took charge of the conversation. “We try not to give any indication that we’re coming beforehand so that we can get the most authentic teaching experience. It should only take thirty minutes, or so.”
Still looking like he wanted to protest, Grace glanced at Mr. Cox, who said, “Well, I’ll leave you in Miss Bennett’s capable hands. Class, please be sure to be on your best behavior for her.” With that, the principal turned and left.
Without a preamble, Mira went to the back of the class and sat at an empty desk. Some of the students in the row in front twisted around to stare at her, and she gave them a soft twitch of her lips to hopefully put them at ease.
Grace resumed his position at the front of the class, looking desperately like a man completely trying to remember what he’d been talking about before the interruption, staring at Mira all the while. His mouth open and closed like a fish out of water. When Mira immediately jotted something down on a notepad, his brows furrowed.
”You were discussing sound waves, yes?” Mira said without looking up from her writing.
Grace faltered for a moment, eyes stuck on the few strands of hair that had escaped the woman’s tight bun. They shifted subtly against her sharp cheekbones from an unseen draft of air. A faint blush appeared on his cheeks, and some of the students near the front of the class snickered.
Grace looked over at the culprit and frowned. “Kyle, I know I didn’t just see you trying to stick your gum under the desk.” His tone was serious, but there was a glint of humor in his eyes. Kyle immediately went silent, while the students around him laughed.
Has no issues commanding authority with class.
“Right, let’s get back on track, guys,” Grace said, clapping his hands together once. Turning back to his desk, he picked up some kind of machine with a flat surface and set it on Kyle’s desk. Its surface was covered in grey sand.
Grace plugged a few cords into it and the wall, then brought out a microphone. “You guys wanna see something cool? Check this out.” He bent down close to the device and pointed at another student, who had a small keyboard sat before her.
She began playing a note, causing the particles to vibrate. Grace put the microphone to his lips. “Sound waves are physical,” he sang deeply. The particles jumped around, weakly forming shapes.
”And at different frequencies, they make different pattern-“ His voice jumped up an octave, but the sand didn’t react.
“No, pattern- Olivia, can you help me out?”
The keyboard girl played a different note, and the particles stabilized, forming mesmerizing waves. The students gasped in excitement and leaned forward to get a better view. Grace smiled softly and straightened.
“There we go.”
In the back of the room, Mira jotted down more notes:
Class is very engaged with subject. Has no issues maintaining attention.
With a flick, Grace shut the sound device off. A girl in the second row raised her hand suddenly.
“Are they really eating the sun? The space dots?”
Mira’s pen stalled mid-writing. She looked up.
Grace set the microphone aside and planted a hand on his hip, peering down at the girl over the rim of his glasses. “That is a great question, uh, Rekha. And I’d be curious what your parents think about that” He stepped back and gestured lazily in the air. “I’m not sure it should come from me.”
At the mention of the space dots, some of the students began to murmur amongst themselves. Grace quickly looked around and smoothly changed tactics.
“Hey! Who wants to play a game of the bean bag is lava!” He reached behind him and produced a small ball modeled after the Earth, holding it up in the air like a prize.
A jolt of subtle surprise went through Mira.
Navigates unexpected conversation changes easily.
Excitedly, the students began to bang on their desks and chant. “Lava! Lava! Lava!”
”What is the speed of light, Olivia?” Grace called out like was announcing an exciting sports game, and tossed the bag to the keyboard girl.
She giggled and tossed the bag around her hands like it was flaming hot, stuttering, “Uh…”
”It’s melting in your hands, Olivia!”
”One hundred and eighty-six-thousand miles per second!” She tossed the bag back to Grace, who caught it deftly.
”Oh! Give her a round of applause! That is awesome!”
The classroom filled with enthusiastic clapping. Mira looked around at the students, eyes narrowing in observation. Their faces were filled with excitement and joy, eyes completely and utterly glued on the man pacing between the desks.
However, Rekha wasn’t giving up. She blurted out once the cheers subsided, “What is the Petrova Line?”
Mira’s attention snapped back to Grace, scrutinizing as he chuckled sheepishly and pointed at the young girl. “Pass!” He tossed the bag to another student, who frowned and threw it right back.
”You can’t pass!”
More notes scribbled in Mira’s flowing handwriting.
Consistently enforces rules in classroom to a point that students follow them ardently.
The students began their chant again, egging the flustered teacher on. He held two fingers up in an effort to quiet them, but slumped down in defeat once they didn’t let up. “Come on, guys.” His eyes briefly landed on Mira in the back, almost seeming to beg for her to save him from the conversation. She simply lifted a brow in reply.
Why is he so adamant on not talking about the Petrova Line?
Of course, Mira would immediately guess it would be for the students’ sakes. However, she was more curious to find out why Dr. Grace himself seemed to want to avoid the subject like a plague. He sighed and went to the front of the classroom, grabbing a roll of red tape from a shelf.
As he pulled a long strip off, he said, “Two years ago, a radio telescope enthusiast named Irina Petrova-“ He stretched up and fastened the tape between two small models hanging from the ceiling: the Sun and Venus.
“She noticed that there was a streak of infrared light from the Sun to Venus. And that is now known as the Petrova line.” Grace dropped his hands down to his pants exasperatedly. “That’s it.”
”That’s the dots?” Rekha prodded.
Grace nodded and pursed his lips. “They think so.”
”What dots?” A question from another boy.
Grace quickly pushed his glasses up, weighing the consequences of continuing to indulge the conversation. Mira noted the way his hands moved, as if they were doing everything they could to wave the questions away from him and out of the classroom.
Minutes later, the projector was booted up and he was pulling up a familiar telescope image up on the screen from his laptop. It was an image Mira had spent countless hours being subjected to in meetings over the past few days. She’d seen it so often that they were practically burned into the insides of her eyelids at night when she desperately tried to fall asleep.
”These dots,” Grace said, pointing to the screen. “They sent a probe up to the Petrova Line, and this is what they found.” He enlarged the image.
“So, are they eating the sun?” Rekha asked for the second time, determined for an answer.
The blonde-haired man grimaced. His fingers laced together tightly enough to whiten his knuckles
Self-soothing gesture.
Dr. Ryland Grace was frightened of the space dots.
“They seem to be,” he replied nervously, “dimming the sun a tiny, teeny-weeny, little bit.”
He’s trying to comfort them.
Olivia shrugged. “So, no big whoop.”
Subject has created enough rapport with students to have alternate terms for words in classroom.
“I-it’s a small whoop. It’s a small-to-medium whoop.” Grace paced away from the class, his back now to them. Even without a view of his face, though, Mira could still clock the nervous tremor to his voice. “Over the next thirty years, the Earth could cool maybe ten to f-fifteen degrees.”
“So it is a big whoop!”
One boy in the front row jumped and spun around in his seat toward Rekha, who began to speak again. “I heard that the crops will die, the economy will free-fall, and half the Earth will die of starvation!”
The room burst into overlapping chatter at this, with one girl even beginning to cry. “We’re all going to die!”
Grace’s cerulean-blue eyes darted around to his students’ faces, trying to figure out the best way to calm them down. Mira couldn’t help the small pang of sadness forming in her chest at the children's terror. It was a familiar feeling that relentlessly attacked her each and every day.
However, kids didn’t have the ability to set aside the issue at-hand and take action like adults did.
“You’re forgetting something,” Grace yelled over the ceaseless noise, small glints of panic forming in his own eyes. “That’s if that were to happen, right?”
The cacophony died down as all attention was on their teacher once again. “They’re gonna figure this out, okay?” He smiled at them all. “Right now, the best minds in the entire world are on it.”
Mira allowed her gaze to fall from the teacher’s and back down to her notes. She made one final addition:
Can be a comforting and assuaging presence for others in times of distress.
The remaining fifteen minutes passed with no additional mentions of the scary space dots. Dr. Grace started up another game of lightning-round questions, this time using small candy bars as prizes for any and all who gave correct answers. When one boy failed to answer the correct way to measure sound waves, he slumped sadly in his seat.
The bell rang, signaling the dismissal of the period, and all the students jumped up and gathered their things, chatting animatedly. All thoughts of the Petrova Line were forgotten.
As Mira gathered her things, preparing to leave herself, she caught a glimpse of Grace slipping the downtrodden boy a candy anyways, giving him a warm pat on the back in farewell. The boy’s face immediately lit up and he ran out of the class with his treasure.
The room grew silent except for distant sounds of students rushing to their next classes. Mira slowly approached the door, cringing inwardly when Grace cleared his throat behind her. She turned.
”So, what’s the verdict? Am I looking at ten years, or life in prison?” He joked with a smirk.
Mira deadpanned. “I’m sorry?”
He waved. “Oh, just ignore me, was a bad joke.” He paused nervously. “I-I mean, am I getting a gold star on my evaluation?”
Mira had been so lost in her thoughts about her observations that she’d almost forgotten the cover story for why she was even there in the first place. “You did adequate.”
Grace opened his mouth to say more, but she quickly spun around and exited the classroom before he could. He stood there momentarily, staring at the space she’d just occupied, a gob-smacked expression causing his mouth to drop.
What in the world was that?
As Mira bee-lined it for the double doors at the end of the hallway, she passed a pair of giggling girls who she recognized as Olivia and Rekha.
”Did you see Mr. Grace staring at that woman? He was totally making heart-eyes at her!”
Mira rolled her eyes and forged onward.
It wasn’t that Ryland Grace was bad-looking by any means, but when billions of lives are on the line, there’s just no time for even a minuscule thought of romance.
The humid California air caresses Mira’s face once she’s outside, and she takes a moment to appreciate the lightly overcast sky before pulling out her government phone and dialing. Stratt answers on the second ring.
“What did you find out?” The woman on the other end spares no time for warm greetings.
”He’s sloppy, disorganized, and has an undisciplined cadence.”
There’s a pause as Stratt seems to wait for Mira to continue. Sensing a metaphorical finger prodding her through the speaker, Mira sighs.
“But the students are highly responsive and display signs of strong emotional engagement. He’s exceptionally adaptive in conversations.” Mira can almost hear the smirk of triumph from Eva Stratt on the other end, and she frowns.
“Good. We’ll be there shortly.” The line goes dead.
An hour or so later, Mira sat in the backseat of a dark, heavily-tinted SUV. Next to her was Carl, a tall, handsome man with dark, ochre skin. He’d been serving as Stratt’s bodyguard for the duration of the project and was mostly reserved. But, throughout the last few weeks, Mira had heard him occasionally crack a quiet joke here and there, and had even begun to think of him as an acquaintance.
Their SUV idled in a corner of the middle school’s parking lot while Stratt had a one-on-one conversation with Ryland Grace. At her message, they were to pull up to the same doors Mira had come out of earlier to collect her and the scientist.
Whether he wanted to come or not.
Out of the corner of Mira’s eye, Carl rummaged in his suit pocket and pulled out a pack of gum, wordlessly offering her one. She immediately smelled the scent of her favorite flavor: watermelon.
She sent him one of her rare smiles. “Thanks.”
”I got you.”
At that moment, Carl’s own government-issued phone buzzed and he pulled it out of the other pocket. Glancing at the screen quickly he said, “She’s ready.” He leaned forward and tapped once on the driver’s shoulder. The SUV smoothly pulled away.
As they rolled up to the familiar doors, Mira spotted Eva stood behind Grace, who was clad in a bright yellow rain jacket. He was busy stuffing some papers and notebooks messily into a black bag; Mira internally cringed, picturing the crushed papers that were bound to be pulled out later.
She and Carl swiftly exited the vehicle and the calming scent of petrichor filled her nostrils.
Mira had always loved the rain. It had been one of her favorite things about DC. During the summer months, she would frequently prop her apartment window open and curl up next to it, inhaling as much of the fresh scent as possible. Nine times out of ten, there was usually some book clasped firmly in her pale hands.
”Look, there is nothing magical about hydrogen and oxygen,” Grace was saying off-handedly as he fumbled with a lock on a plain-looking bike. “Water is required for life on Earth, sure. But on a completely different planet might have completely different conditions. I don’t know why that makes me such a nut.” He snapped the last words in irritation.
Carl took up a stance next to Stratt, scanning the parking lot for any potential threats, while Mira lingered a foot away. To their right, another dark SUV pulled up, three more government operatives spilling out like a clown car.
”I need you to come with us,” Eva said. It wasn't a request.
Grace looked around at all the dark-clothed agents, smiling faintly in disbelief. Then, his eyes landed on Mira and did a double-take.
”You…you’re with them?” He pointed an accusing finger at the brunette. It was shaking slightly. “You lied to me?”
Mira stared at the scientist impassively.
“And Principal Cox! What, you guys faked district papers to invade my classroom and spy on me?! Isn’t that kind of illegal?”
“We can fabricate any paperwork needed. I sent Dr. Bennett here to evaluate your teaching style beforehand so we could determine your communication style,” Stratt replied quickly. Her tone showed no guilt whatsoever about the omission of guilt.
Grace glared at Mira, a muscle in his jaw ticking. He then turned to Carl and extended a hand in greeting. “S-sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
”Carl.” Carl did not take Ryland’s hand.
Grace quickly withdrew it and clenched a fist in embarrassment. “Carl. Hi.”
Stratt impatiently swooped in to take control of the conversation again. “Dr. Grace, Petrova Line samples splashed down last night. I want you to tell me what they are, how they work.”
Grace stared at the trio incredulously. A slight breeze blew through the parking lot, causing the blonde’s already messy hair to stand up. He said, “I am a teacher at Grover Cleveland Middle.”
”And you have a doctorate in molecular biology,” Eva shot back.
He leaned down and picked up a beat-up helmet, setting it on his head. The unbuckled straps swayed in the humid air “And I ride a bike to work, and it’s not for exercise. So, I’m sure there are lots of other people who are better-“
Mira was growing tired of the banter. While they stood there bickering, the sun continued to dim. As if to prove her thoughts, the light grew dimmer around them as a rogue cloud obscured the flaming hot star above. She thought back to the scientist’s dissertation Stratt had shown her during their assignment briefing. If his feelings proved to be as intense about the subject as the paper had portrayed, then she hoped this would be the bait to hook him.
If it failed, they could always just manhandle him into the car.
“It survives on the surface of the sun,” she bit out. “Does that sound like a water-based life form to you?”
Eva tossed an approving smirk over to the brunette.
Was Mira imagining things, or was that a hint of pride sparkling in Eva Stratt’s eyes?
Grace paused and looked down at his shoes with a pondering expression. A small flame of satisfaction ignited in Mira’s chest.
Ryland Grace: 0. Mira Bennett: 1.
A moment later Grace stood next to the open door of their SUV, his helmet and bike forgotten behind the group. He stared off into the distance, and for the first time that day, Mira couldn’t tell by expression or body language what the man was thinking. It unsettled her.
Grace turned to look at her. “The sun’s really dying, isn’t it?”
Back in the classroom, Mira thought she had seen fear in the scientist’s eyes, but it was nothing compared to this. His blue irises were sheer behind the beginnings of unshed tears. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed with effort.
Involuntarily, she felt her own gaze soften with…empathy? She nodded faintly. “Yeah.”
Blowing out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, Ryland Grace turned back to the shadowy interior of the SUV. It yawned back at him, and he suddenly became aware of a frightening idea: once he got in that car, there was no turning back. After this, his future would be undeniably altered, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
Feeling Mira’s eyes on his back, Grace unsteadily climbed into the confines of the vehicle.
To him, the door shutting sounded almost like his coffin door sealing.
