Free Omega City by Diana Peterfreund

light was failing but I could see well enough to catch the spark of anger in her eyes.
    â€œWell, if you have actual information to give,” Eric said.
    â€œAs a matter of fact, Eric, I do.” She straightened. “The Kelvin scale—scientists usually use that. And the freezing point of water in Kelvin is 273.15 degrees.”
    â€œHey, Dad? We’ll be right back. Have to make a phone call.” I raced up the steps and into the cottage, with Eric and Savannah right behind.
    â€œNoland residence,” said the pleasant-sounding woman who answered the phone.
    â€œHi, Mrs. Noland,” I said. “Can I speak to Howard? This is Gillian Seagret. From school,” I added.
    â€œHoward?” Mrs. Noland said. “Really?” But she got him anyway.
    â€œAm I on speakerphone?” he asked when he came on the line.
    â€œYes.” I pressed the button.
    â€œWho is there?”
    â€œMe and Eric and Savannah,” I replied.
    â€œNo one else?”
    â€œNo one else, Howard,” Sav said, annoyed. “Just tell him.”
    â€œDo you have your GPS? Try plugging in the distance at the following angle . . .” I trailed off and looked at Eric for help.
    â€œ273.15 degrees,” Eric said. “It should be slightly north of due west.”
    Howard was silent on the other end for a second. “That’s the Deep Creek Lake area,” he reported.
    Eric and I stared at each other. He groaned, but a thrill shot through my body. Deep Creek Lake was where Dad had taken us when we went off grid. I bet it was because the area had something to do with Dr. Underberg.
    â€œThat’s like an hour away,” Eric said. “It’s way too far for our bikes.”
    â€œWe could tell Dad it was for a school project. The bird . . . pollution thing.”
    â€œI’ll back you up, Gillian,” said Savannah, her voice soft. “If we find something, fine. If not, we tried.”
    â€œIt won’t be easy,” Howard said over the phone. “It’ll be really small. Three inches.”
    â€œIf it’s even there anymore,” Eric pointed out.
    I looked at Eric, willing him to understand.
    He took a deep breath. “I just don’t want you thinking you can save the day. And I really don’t want Dad to get all paranoid, which you know he’ll do if he figures out why we’re really out there.”
    â€œI’ll ask my brother to drive us.” Howard’s voice broke in over the phone. “Tomorrow’s Saturday.”
    Savannah gave a little hop and clapped her hands together. “Yes! That’s an amazing idea! Thank you, Howard!”
    â€œWhat are you going to tell him?” Eric asked. “I don’t think he buys that we’re doing a bird poop project.”
    â€œOh, hush,” said Savannah, smiling like it was her birthday. “We’re in.”
    We made arrangements for Nate and Howard to pick us up in the morning, then went out to tell Dad about our new “school project.”
    â€œDeep Creek Lake, huh?” he asked, packing away the last of the camping gear. “What a coincidence. Fiona was talking about it today, too. That’s actually what reminded me to check on our camping gear.”
    â€œReally,” my brother said flatly.
    â€œYep,” Dad said. “She’s a pretty good researcher, for a beginner. She told me something even I didn’t know—apparently, Dr. Underberg’s father used to have a cabin out there.”
    â€œReally?” I said, my tone far more interested than Eric’s. If Fiona was asking about the forest, maybe she knew another way to get to the treasure without the missing diary page. What if we’d gone through all of that trouble to calculate the location and it was really just an old family cabin? Worse, what if I dragged everyone out there and Fiona had already taken the battery?
    â€œShe said it’s impossible to