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Two days had passed since Jonas drove away in the rental. The farmhouse had been quiet, almost too quiet, and Harry found himself restless in the silence. After school that afternoon, he headed straight for home, half-hoping his father would be waiting in the kitchen or out by the barn.But the kitchen was empty, the barn dark."Dad?" Harry called, peering through the workshop door. No answer.He stepped outside, squinting against the late sun. For a moment, only the wind moved through the grass. Then the low rumble of an engine broke the stillness. Stephen's old truck crested the dirt road, dust trailing behind its tires.Harry jogged to meet it as the truck rolled to a stop in front of the barn. Stephen climbed down from the driver's seat, his arms wrapped around a heavy wooden box.Harry tilted his head. "What's that?"Stephen set the box on the gravel with a dull thud. "A centrifuge," he said, brushing dust from his sleeves. His tone was calm, but there was a weight beneath it. "We'll need it for Kael's lifeline."Harry frowned, curiosity and unease prickling at the same time. "His lifeline?"Stephen gave a small nod, as if that explained everything. He bent to lift the box again, muscles straining slightly, and carried it toward the barn.Harry hesitated only a second before following. Whatever this lifeline was, he had the sinking feeling it wasn't just about machines and medicine.Stephen pushed the barn doors open with his shoulder and carried the wooden box inside. He set it carefully on the workbench, then pried open the latches. Inside, cushioned by layers of padding, lay a gleaming metal device with glass tubes nestled in a rotor.Harry leaned closer. "So, what is it, really?""A centrifuge," Stephen said, running his hand along the polished steel. "It spins samples at high speed. That force separates the heavier parts of blood from the lighter ones... plasma, proteins, cell fragments."Harry's brow furrowed. "Like... straining soup?"Stephen gave a faint smile. "In a way. But here, the soup is your blood."Harry stiffened. "My blood?"Stephen nodded, his expression steady, though his eyes carried the weight of what he was about to say. "Kael doesn't just need medicine. He needs Autoclastin. The only reliable source I know of." His gaze settled on Harry. "... is you."Harry swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "You mean... you're going to take it out of me?""Not all of it," Stephen reassured, setting the centrifuge upright on the bench. "Your body produces more than enough. The machine will let us separate it, isolate the fraction that carries the compound. We can refine it, stabilize it, and make doses for Kael."Harry stared at the machine. The glass tubes gleamed under the barn's dim light, looking more like instruments of surgery than of science. "So, my blood is Kael's lifeline."Stephen's voice was quiet but firm. "Yes. And it might be the only thing that keeps him alive long enough until we get a permanent solution."
"Dad, how did they make Kael depends on Autoclastin?" Harry asked.Stephen adjusted the centrifuge on the bench, his hands steady. "Harry, you already know cells in our body don't last forever. They grow, they divide, and when they're too old or too damaged, they die. That balance... death and renewal... is what keeps us alive."Harry nodded slowly. "Sam told me once... like pruning branches so the tree stays healthy.""Exactly," Stephen said. "Now... Autoclastac and Autoclastin are simply tools that tip the balance. Autoclastac accelerates cell death. Autoclastin does the opposite... it blocks cell death. One is the brake, the other the accelerator."Harry tilted his head. "So, the first generation... like Jonas...?""They had neither," Stephen said. "Just like normal people. No leash, no special control, only their training and enhancements.""And me?""You're unique. You produce both. That means your system stays balanced... one checks the other. It's dangerous, but it's also why you survived when no one else could."Harry looked down at the centrifuge, the glass tubes gleaming faintly. "And the second generation?"Stephen's jaw tightened. "They were implanted with Autoclastac from the beginning. It forces their cells toward death. To keep them alive, they need Autoclastin supplied at the right dose, week after week.""So that's the leash," Harry said quietly.Stephen nodded. "Without Autoclastin, the imbalance kills them. And the implant itself only lasts about a year before it has to be replaced. That means they're never free. Their bodies depend on the system, and the system depends on keeping them under control."Harry's throat tightened. "And Kael...?""Kael's one of them. Without Autoclastin, the implant will eat him alive from the inside. That's why this machine matters." Stephen rested his hand on the centrifuge. "With it, I can extract Autoclastin from your blood and give him a lifeline. Should be enough to buy him freedom from the leash."Stephen tapped the centrifuge, then turned to the shelf where his first aid kit had once sat. "Do you remember the little bottle you found when we were preparing first aid kit?"Harry nodded. "That was Autoclastin," Stephen said. His tone was calm, but his eyes didn't soften. "It's rare. Harder to come by than gold. That single bottle can keep Kael alive for about twenty weeks, no more. After that... he runs out of time."Harry swallowed. "So even if Jonas gave it to him... he's just buying months.""Exactly. And Kael doesn't have the luxury of waiting for miracles. That's why we need another source." Stephen's gaze rested on his son, steady but heavy. "You."Harry's chest tightened. "Because my blood contains Autoclastin.""Not just contains it... produces it continuously," Stephen said. "Your cells carry both instructions: to tip the scale toward life, and toward death. That's what keeps you balanced. It's also what makes you Kael's only lifeline."Harry stared at the centrifuge again, the machine's cold gleam suddenly more ominous than any weapon. "So... my blood's not just mine anymore. It's his survival."Stephen placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I won't take more than you can afford to give. But you need to understand: the world we're in doesn't give second chances. For Kael, your blood is the difference between freedom... and the leash dragging him back to his masters."
Harry's brow furrowed as he studied the centrifuge. "But... why not just take the implant out of Kael? Wouldn't that solve everything? No implant, no leash."Stephen shook his head slowly. "If only it were that simple.""Why not?" Harry pressed.Stephen leaned against the workbench, folding his arms. "First of all, it's hidden. The container isn't made of metal or plastic. It's grown from Kael's own organic tissue. It blends in, makes it almost impossible to find without knowing the exact coordinates. And even if you could find it..." He paused, his tone sharpening. "...it has a booby trap."Harry's stomach tightened. "What kind of trap?""If anyone tampers with it, the capsule bursts. All the Autoclastac inside floods his system in an instant." Stephen's voice stayed calm, but there was no softness in it. "That kind of overdose doesn't take hours or days. It kills within minutes."Harry's face paled. "So, the only way?""... is to let it do its job," Stephen finished. "Let it release Autoclastac in small doses, exactly as programmed. And then counterbalance it... week by week... with Autoclastin. That's why Kael needs a steady supply. That's why the bottle you found isn't enough. And that's why we have to draw it from you."Harry stared at the centrifuge, a cold knot forming in his chest. He wanted to argue, to push for another way, but the weight in his father's voice left no ground to stand on.
Stephen lifted the centrifuge lid and set out a tray of glass tubes, each one clean and gleaming under the barn?s single overhead light. Beside them, he placed a needle kit and a bottle of antiseptic.Harry's throat went dry. "So... you're really gonna take it out of me."Stephen gave a small nod. "Just a small vial. Your body makes more every day than Kael needs in a week. It won't hurt you."Harry eyed the needle. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one getting stabbed."For a moment, Stephen's mouth twitched, almost into a smile. But his voice stayed calm. "Needles never get easier. You just learn why you're letting them in."Harry pulled up a stool and sat down, forcing himself to keep his arm steady on the workbench. "Alright... let's just do it before I change my mind."Stephen cleaned the crook of Harry's elbow with practiced precision, the smell of antiseptic sharp in the air. Then he slid the needle into place. Harry winced but bit back a sound, keeping his eyes fixed on the centrifuge instead of the thin red stream filling the glass tube.In less than a minute, Stephen capped the vial and slid the needle out. He pressed a square of gauze over Harry's arm. "Hold this."Harry pressed down, flexing his fingers. "That's it?""For today." Stephen turned, sliding the vial into the centrifuge's rotor. The machine whirred to life, low at first, then rising into a steady hum as it began to spin. "This will separate the plasma. That's where the Autoclastin hides."Harry watched the machine, the hum filling the barn like a heartbeat. The weight of it all pressed down on him... the idea that the liquid in that tiny tube was more than blood. It was Kael's lifeline. His freedom.He whispered, half to himself, "So it's really true. My veins are the leash-breaker."Stephen rested a hand briefly on his son's shoulder, his eyes steady. "And his survival depends on you."The centrifuge spun faster, its sound rising into a sharp whir, as if echoing the tension in the room.
The centrifuge slowed with a mechanical sigh, the tubes inside settling back into stillness. Stephen lifted one out, holding it to the light. Layers were forming... plasma pale and clear above, red cells sinking below.Harry leaned closer. "So... is that it? That's Autoclastin?""Not yet." Stephen shook his head. "This is just the first step. Right now, the sample is full of everything... proteins, cell fragments, even traces of Autoclastac." He set the tube carefully into a rack. "If we injected this into Kael, it would do more harm than good."Harry frowned. "So, you have to... clean it?""Purify it," Stephen corrected. "Separate the Autoclastin from the rest. That takes more time, and more equipment. But once we refine it, then we'll have a usable dose."Harry let out a slow breath. The relief of being done with the needle began to mix with a creeping unease. "And then you'll give it to Kael?"Stephen's expression hardened. "Yes. But you need to understand something, Harry." He set the tube down and turned to face his son fully, his voice carrying a sharper weight than before."You cannot tell anyone where this came from. Not Jonas. Not Kael. Not even Sam."Harry blinked. "Why not? They're on our side."Stephen's eyes didn't waver. "Because the moment anyone knows the truth, you stop being my son... and you become a prize. A living fountain of Autoclastin. Every government, every private lab, every mercenary group will hunt you. To them, you won't be Harry Webster. You'll just be the cure in human form."Harry's chest tightened. He wanted to argue, to insist Jonas and Kael wouldn't betray them, but the steel in his father's tone stopped him cold.Stephen leaned closer, his voice low, almost a growl. "If that information leaks, they won't stop until they have you. And they won't care if you survive the process."Harry swallowed hard, staring at the tube of his own blood. It didn't look like anything special... just red and ordinary. But now he knew better.He nodded once. "I won't tell."Stephen gave a single, firm nod in return, then turned back to the workbench. "Good. Because Kael's lifeline depends on more than the blood. It depends on silence."The centrifuge sat humming faintly in the corner, the weight of its secret heavier than steel.
The farmhouse kitchen was dim, the single light bulb swaying faintly with the draft that crept in through the old window frames. Harry sat at the table, turning his glass of water in slow circles. He wasn't really thirsty. He was waiting.The crunch of tires on gravel snapped him to attention. He straightened just as the door creaked open and Jonas Creed stepped in, looking worn and dusty from the road. He pulled his hood back, eyes sharp despite the fatigue.Stephen came from the hallway almost immediately, revolver still on his hip. His voice was low, even. "You made it back."Jonas dropped keys on the table with a small clink. "Everything's done. The cadaver's in place, the uniform fitted, the tooth planted where it needed to be. No mistakes. They'll believe Kael's gone."Stephen picked up the keys, studied them a moment, then slid them into his pocket. "Good. That gives us room to breathe."Jonas exhaled, shoulders sagging a fraction. Then his gaze hardened again. "Now it's your turn. You gave me your word, Webster. Keep Kael alive."Stephen crossed to the old cabinet and returned with a small glass bottle. He set it down between them. Pale capsules shifted softly inside."That's all that's left," Stephen said. "Eighteen. Add the two you already took, and you've got twenty weeks total."Jonas's hand hovered, then closed around the bottle. Relief flickered in his eyes, but it didn't last. "That's barely buying time. You said you'd cure him. Cut the leash."Stephen met his gaze. "There is no cutting it. The implant isn't metal or plastic... it's grown from his own tissue. Every soldier's is buried somewhere different, so there's no map to follow. And worse..." his tone sharpened, "... they're booby-trapped. Touch one wrong and it ruptures. Floods his body with Autoclastac in a single dose. He'd be dead before you could move."Jonas froze, jaw working. "So, all this time" there was never a way to remove it.""There's only one safe way." Stephen's voice stayed flat, controlled. "Wait it out. The implant runs dry after a year. Until then, Kael needs regular doses of Autoclastin. If he makes it to the end, he's free."Jonas's head snapped up. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"Stephen's eyes didn't waver. He leaned an elbow on the table, his hand resting near the bottle. "If I had, you'd have second-guessed the mission. You needed focus, nothing else. And you got the job done."Jonas's grip on the bottle tightened. "Then when's the next supply?""Fifteen weeks from now."Jonas studied him for a long moment, anger and reluctant respect caught in the same breath. At last, he gave a sharp nod. "You play it cold.""Cold," Stephen said evenly, "is what keeps people alive."Silence pressed in.
Harry sat rigid on his chair, barely breathing. He hadn't spoken once, hadn't dared. The bottle gleamed in Jonas's hand, twenty weeks of life... and Harry knew the truth behind it. He pressed his palms against his knees under the table, forcing himself still. He couldn't let anything slip. Not like with Uncle Sam. One word too many and Jonas would know exactly where the real lifeline came from.Stephen finally pushed back from the table, the scrape of wood on the floor breaking the tension. "That's all you need to know for now. Make every capsule count."Jonas slipped the bottle into his pocket but lingered at the table, his brow furrowed. "One thing I don't get. How will we even know when the implant's empty? When it's safe?"Stephen leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "You'll know. Once the implant's dried up, Autoclastac stops releasing. If Kael keeps taking Autoclastin after that point..." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "... his body will tip the balance the other way. Cells will stop dying. Hormones spiral out of control. Organ failure follows."Jonas's face tightened. "So, the cure becomes poison.""Exactly," Stephen said. "That's the signal. When Autoclastin starts to annoy him instead of helping him, you'll know the implant's run its course."For a moment, only the light bulb hissed in the silence.Harry sat frozen at the edge of the table, pretending to study the faint rings of condensation under his glass. Every word pressed on him like a weight. The bottle Jonas carried wasn't just medicine... it was a ticking clock. And the secret inside his own veins was the only reason that clock might keep ticking long enough.Jonas frowned, still holding the bottle, then asked, "And if Kael takes too much? If the implant's already run dry, and he keeps swallowing Autoclastin?"Stephen steepled his fingers. "The effects are slower. Not like the sudden crash without it. At first, it causes hormonal changes. A shift in balance." His tone softened into a wry kind of explanation. "Think of it like the bleeding cycle almost every woman has endured since prehistory. It's disruptive, sometimes painful, but not immediately fatal. A big man like Kael can weather it, at least until we recognize what's happening."Harry blinked, confused. "Bleeding cycle? What's that supposed to mean?"Jonas barked a laugh, the sound raw but genuine, chasing the weight from his shoulders for the first time since they met. "You'll find out when you're older, kid."For a fleeting moment, the heavy burden that had carved lines into Jonas's face seemed to ease.Stephen allowed himself a small chuckle as well. "You heard the man, Harry. Some lessons aren't mine to teach." He didn't want to take away the good time Jonas was having.Harry glanced between them, half-frustrated, half-curious, but held his tongue. The moment passed, leaving only the quiet hum of the light bulb and the ticking clock of Kael's life between them.
The late afternoon sun slanted through the farmhouse windows, painting the wooden floor in warm, golden stripes. Harry sat cross-legged on the rug, flipping through a comic book, while Stephen leaned against the doorframe, arms folded, a faint smile tugging at his lips."Harry," Stephen began, his tone casual but carrying that undercurrent of something important. "I've been meaning to tell you... your Aunt Shania sent a message."Harry's head snapped up, curiosity sparking in his brown eyes. "Aunt Shania? From Guyana?"Stephen nodded.For a heartbeat, Harry just stared, the words sinking in. Aunt Shania. He can't recall the moments with her. He only saw her from his mom's photo album."When?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper."School break," Stephen replied. "We'll fly out in a few weeks. I thought... it might be good for you. A change of scenery. And Shania... she's family. She cares about you."Harry's lips curved into a slow, genuine smile. "That sounds... amazing."
The next day at school, Harry could barely contain himself. As soon as the lunch bell rang, he bolted toward the corner table where Asha and Rowan were already seated."You guys won't believe this," he said, dropping his tray with a clatter. "I'm going to Guyana this summer. Aunt Shania invited me."Rowan's eyes widened. "Guyana? That's in South America, right? Like... rainforests and rivers and stuff?"Harry grinned. "Exactly. It's going to be epic."Asha, her expression brightening, leaned forward. "That's amazing, Harry. My parents are visiting me here during the break. They promised to take me to some local tourist spots... maybe even the national park."Rowan leaned back on his elbows, a crooked grin on his face. "Guess we'll all be traveling, then. I'm off to England for the summer. Got to return a visit... remember my cousin Harry?"Harry blinked, remembering the odd coincidence. "The other Harry."Rowan nodded. "Exactly."Harry laughed, the sound light and unguarded. For a moment, the weight of secrets, powers, and hidden dangers melted away, replaced by the simple thrill of summer plans and the promise of adventure.
The bell rang, and the three friends drifted back toward class. But Harry's thoughts weren't on lessons. They circled back to the night before, to the strange words Stephen had used... the 'bleeding cycle'. Jonas had laughed, Stephen had brushed it aside, and Harry was left with nothing but more questions.Stephen had brushed it off when Harry asked, saying only, "Almost every woman experiences it. You'll understand when you're older." That answer had done nothing to satisfy Harry's curiosity. If it was something nearly every woman went through, why was it such a big secret?Maybe Asha knew. She was smart, confident... she always seemed to have answers. But Harry also knew he had to be careful. He couldn't mention Jonas, Kael, or Project David. Those names were off-limits.At recess, when Rowan was busy chasing a ball with the other kids, Harry took a chance. He kept his tone casual."Hey, Asha," he asked, lowering his voice, "can I ask you something? Do you know what... a bleeding cycle is?"Asha blinked at him, puzzled. "Bleeding cycle? Never heard of it." She tilted her head, frowning thoughtfully. "Is it some kind of training thing? Or, like, something in science class?"Harry shook his head, a little disappointed. "Guess not. Just... something I overheard."She shrugged, brushing her hair back from her face. "Maybe it's grown-up stuff. My mom says there's plenty of things I'll understand later."Harry forced a small smile. "Yeah. Later."As they walked back together, Harry kept quiet. For all his questions, this was one mystery he'd have to shelve... for now.Asha walked beside him in silence for a moment, then suddenly grinned. "You know... frankly speaking..."Harry stopped in his tracks, planting his fists on his hips. "Oh, come on. It's not even funny anymore."The words came out sharper than he intended, but for once, he didn't care. Maybe it was the heat of the afternoon sun, or maybe it was the way Asha froze mid-sentence, her blue eyes wide and startled. For a rare, unguarded moment, Harry found himself staring straight into them... clear, bright, and impossibly calm... without feeling awkward. Without feeling guilty.Asha blinked, her grin faltering. For the first time all week, she didn't have a comeback ready. Her fingers tightened on the strap of her bag, and she opened her mouth like she might say something... anything... but nothing came out, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks.The silence stretched, heavy and strange, until a voice cut through it."Yo! Lovebirds!" Rowan's shout carried across the courtyard like a thrown rock. He was leaning against the bike rack, smirking like he'd just walked in on the punchline of the century. "You two done staring into each other's souls, or should I give you a minute?""We were not...!" Asha broke eye contact at once, brushing her hair back.Harry jerked back like he'd been burned, heat rushing to his face.Asha spun toward Rowan, her cheeks pink, her voice sharp. "We'd better go.""Sure," Rowan said, pushing off the rack with a lazy grin. "And frankly speaking...""Don't you dare," Harry and Asha snapped in unison.Rowan's laughter rang out across the courtyard, bright and merciless.Harry forced a laugh too, but inside, the weight pressed back in. Because no matter how much he wanted this moment to last, he knew the truth: normal never stayed for long.
The barn door creaked as Harry stepped inside, the familiar scent of oil and old timber wrapping around him. Stephen was hunched over the workbench, sleeves rolled up, a soldering iron in one hand and a tangle of wires in the other. Beside him sat a compact radio set, its dials gleaming under the single hanging bulb.Harry leaned against the doorframe. "So, does Aunt Shania know we're coming? Or is this still a maybe?"Stephen didn't look up right away. He finished the connection, set the iron down, and finally turned, his expression calm but sharp in the glow of the lamp. "She knows. I got her message this morning. She's already making plans."Harry's eyebrows rose. "That fast? How? I mean... Guyana's, like, thousands of miles away. Did you call her?"Stephen shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "No phone. No internet. We used radio."Harry blinked. "Radio? Like... old-school, static and antennas?""Not exactly old-school," Stephen said, tapping the metal casing of the device. "Radio waves don't care about borders. They travel at the speed of light. All you need is the right frequency, the right encryption, and someone on the other end who knows how to listen."Harry stepped closer, eyeing the machine. "So? you just... talk into it?"Stephen chuckled softly. "Not quite. Voice can be intercepted. We use bursts... short packets of data, compressed and coded. To anyone else, it sounds like static. To us, it's a message."Harry stared at the radio, the hum of its circuits filling the silence. "That's... kind of awesome. And kind of creepy."Stephen's gaze flicked up, his tone turning serious. "It's also the safest way to talk when you don't want anyone tracing you. Remember that."Harry nodded slowly, the weight of the words settling in. For a moment, the barn felt smaller, the air heavier, as if those invisible waves carried more than just messages. They carried secrets. And maybe, just maybe, danger.Harry tilted his head, curiosity sparking. "Okay... but how does that even work? I mean, how can a message travel through the air without wires?"Stephen rested his hands on the edge of the workbench, his voice calm and deliberate. "Think back to that potato experiment you did before. Remember how you made the current flow back and forth between your hands?"Harry nodded slowly. "Yeah. You said it was like... alternating current. The charge kept switching directions.""Exactly," Stephen said. "Radio waves work on a similar principle. They're electric oscillations... tiny pushes and pulls of energy... sent out into space. Instead of flowing through a wire, they ripple outward, like waves on water. Only these waves move at the speed of light."Harry's brow furrowed. "So... it's like my hands were making a really slow wave, and this thing ..." he tapped the radio... "makes a super-fast one?"Stephen smiled faintly. "That's one way to put it. Your experiment was a few cycles per minute. This?" He turned the dial, and the radio crackled softly. "This runs at millions of cycles per second. High frequency means the wave can carry more information... and travel farther without losing strength."Harry stared at the device, the hum of its circuits suddenly sounding different. Not just noise, but a heartbeat of invisible energy, pulsing through the air, carrying secrets across continents."So, every time you send a message," Harry said slowly, "it's like... throwing a stone into a pond. Only the pond is the whole planet."Stephen's eyes glinted in the dim light. "And the ripples never stop. They just keep going... until someone who knows how to listen catches them."Harry swallowed, the thought settling heavy in his chest. Invisible waves, carrying words no one else could hear. It felt like magic... but sharper. Colder. The kind of magic that could save lives... or end them.
Harry frowned, curiosity pulling him closer to the workbench. "But... Guyana's really far away. If the radio wave spreads in every direction, wouldn't the signal be super weak by the time it gets there? How can Aunt Shania even hear you?"Stephen's mouth curved into a faint smile. "That's why we don't let it spread everywhere. We use a directional antenna array."Harry tilted his head. "Directional... like a flashlight for radio?""Exactly," Stephen said. "Instead of wasting energy in all directions, we concentrate the transmission into a narrow beam. That way, most of the power goes where we want it... straight toward Guyana."Harry's brow furrowed. "But how do you... aim a wave? It's not like you can point it like a stick."Stephen reached for a pencil and sketched a quick diagram on a scrap of paper... several antennas in a row, lines radiating outward. "We use multiple antennas, spaced apart. Each one sends the same signal, but with a tiny delay... a phase difference. When those waves overlap, they reinforce each other in one direction and cancel out in others. That's how we steer the beam."Harry stared at the sketch, trying to picture it. "So, you're basically making the waves gang up in one direction?"Stephen chuckled. "That's one way to put it. Control the timing, control the direction."Harry glanced around the barn, then back at the radio. "Okay... so where's this antenna array? I don't see any giant dishes outside."Stephen's eyes glinted with quiet pride. "You've been looking at it the whole time."Harry blinked. "What?"Stephen pointed upward. "The barn roof. That metal framework isn't just holding shingles... it's the antenna. The rest of the structure is isolator, so it doesn't interfere with the signal."Harry craned his neck, staring at the rafters in a whole new light. "You turned the barn into a giant transmitter?"Stephen gave a small nod. "When you live off the grid, you learn to make the grid come to you."Harry let out a low whistle, his mind spinning. Invisible beams slicing through the sky, bouncing off the ionosphere, carrying secrets across oceans... all from the roof over his head. It felt like something out of science fiction... except it was real. And it was theirs.
Harry craned his neck toward the rafters, still trying to wrap his head around the idea of the barn doubling as a giant antenna. Before he could ask another question, Stephen turned to the shelf by the workbench and pulled down a thick, weathered book. Its dark blue cover was stamped with bold silver letters: Radio Communication Handbook.He set it on the bench with a solid thump. "If you're curious about how radio waves work," Stephen said, sliding the book toward him, "you can start here. It covers everything... oscillators, modulation, antenna theory. Come back to me if something isn't clear."Harry ran his fingers over the embossed title, the weight of the book almost as heavy as the thought of what it represented. Invisible waves, phase differences, beams slicing through the sky... and now, a manual thick enough to choke a horse.He gave a crooked grin. "So, summer reading?"Stephen's mouth twitched into the faintest smile. "Consider it extra credit."Harry chuckled softly, but as he flipped the book open, the diagrams and equations stared back like a secret language. Somewhere deep down, he knew this wasn't just about curiosity. It was about survival. And maybe, just maybe, about understanding the world his father lived in... the world he was slowly being pulled into.Harry flipped through the heavy handbook, eyes skimming over diagrams of antennas and waveforms. "This is... a lot," he admitted with a laugh. "Honestly, all of this feels like magic."Stephen's mouth curved into a faint smile. "That's because any technology advanced enough is indistinguishable from magic." He tapped the book gently. "But it's not magic, Harry. It's science. And science is just understanding the rules well enough to make them useful."Harry grinned, still running his fingers over the embossed title. "So, you're saying I can learn this?""You can," Stephen said firmly. He gestured toward the old wooden cabinet in the corner. "That book is just the start. The rest of my collection is in there. Everything from basic electronics to advanced signal theory. I've been building it since college... through my years as a navy engineer, and later, as a scientist in Project David."Harry's eyes widened. "All of that... in there?"Stephen nodded. "Every page earned the hard way. If you're curious, dig in. Come back to me when something doesn't make sense."Harry felt a spark of excitement flare in his chest, the kind that made his fingers itch to open every book in that cabinet. For a moment, the weight of secrets and danger faded, replaced by something else... possibility. A whole world of knowledge, waiting for him to unlock it.Harry's excitement was written all over his face as he glanced toward the cabinet. "So, I can read all of that?"Stephen nodded, but his tone sharpened slightly. "You can. But understand this... some of the material in there is classified. You won't find it in any public library or online forum. These aren't theories I picked up from a blog. I know they're true because they work."Harry blinked, the weight of those words sinking in. "Classified... like government-level secret?"Stephen's eyes held his. "Exactly. And one more thing... don't fall into the trap of thinking every explanation you read is the only truth. In science, there can be multiple theories that explain the same phenomenon equally well. That's why we use Occam's razor."Harry tilted his head. "Occam's... what?""Occam's razor," Stephen repeated. "It means when you have two explanations that fit the facts, you choose the one with the fewest assumptions. The simplest path is usually the right one."He stroked Harry's head, "But the ultimate test of our knowledge is our own continued survival."
And science is just understanding the rules well enough to bend them.
QuoteAnd science is just understanding the rules well enough to bend them. No. The rules that science discovers are called rules because we have no evidence of their ever being "bent" or broken..