Read Online Omega City by Diana Peterfreund - Free Book Online Page B

.” He trailed off. “The possibilities are endless.”
    I slumped. And what were the possibilities regarding ice?
    â€œBut Underberg thought it was all just a dream. He was certain humanity would destroy itself before we ever had a chance to progress that far. You don’t know what it was like, to live during the Cold War. I hope you guys never do. Every day people like Dr. Underberg were certain we were about to get bombed into extinction by the Russians, or vice versa. Even when I was younger, that possibility haunted us.” He sighed. “Do you remember when we went to visit Underberg’s Solar Park the other day?”
    I perked up at the words. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Eric and Savannah lean in, too.
    â€œThere was that plaque there, with his speech from the dedication. Let me see if I have this right,” Dad said.“Something about how the human race holds the power to bring itself into the light or into the darkness .”
    â€œ To let the sun rise or set on the face of history ,” I continued. I’d seen that plaque a million times.
    â€œThat’s the one.” Dad moved down to the other end of the tent, and as soon as his back was turned, Eric lobbed the head lamp into my lap.
    â€œHey!” he whispered as I scurried up to meet him on the porch. “Isn’t that what the riddle said? Something about the sun setting on the Earth?”
    I nodded, surprised that he’d actually memorized it. What’s more, he was out here, listening to me and Dad talk instead of rushing through his chores, then beelining for his video games. I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened, but I certainly wasn’t going to complain.
    Whatever we were looking for, we had to be on the right track. The last line of Dr. Underberg’s speech on the Solar Park plaque was about how his dream of a better future had become a reality. It sounded like he was talking about building a nice park for his hometown, but what if it was something more? What if he was talking about a battery that would help fix the environment and end wars over oil?
    â€œJust don’t let this one blow it with all her gangster talk.” Eric gestured to Savannah. “ Iced? Really?”
    She glared at him. “You have a better idea?”
    â€œHow could anything possibly beat mobsters and cryogenics?”
    I giggled and she turned to me. “Are you seriously taking his side?”
    â€œHe does have a point,” I admitted. And I’d be more than happy to take his side now that he was finally taking mine.
    â€œGillian, we’re following a treasure map written by a mad scientist to a model of Pluto. Nothing is off-limits.”
    â€œOkay. You have a point, too.” I smiled at her, but she sniffed and looked away.
    Eric rolled his eyes and began putting our camping supplies back in the crate, then suddenly froze. “Gills,” he whispered. “It’s degrees!”
    â€œWhat?”
    He was crouched on the porch, his old compass cradled in his hand. “Degrees! Like degrees of temperature. Ice freezes at thirty-two degrees.”
    The birth of ice . .  . that made sense. “But how does that help?”
    He showed me the face of the compass and pointed to a ring of tiny numbers marching around the outside. “Don’t you see? Directions have degrees, too. We use them in sailing. Like zero degrees is due north and one hundred eighty degrees is south.”
    â€œSo what is thirty-two?”
    â€œKinda north by northeast . . .”
    â€œWait,” I said. “That’s Fahrenheit. Wouldn’t a scientist use Celsius or something? Zero is the freezing point of water in Celsius.”
    â€œSo that would be north,” Eric said. “By degrees.” Which led us back into northern Pennsylvania.
    Savannah mumbled something.
    â€œWhat?” I asked.
    â€œOh, now you want my opinion?” she snapped. The