A Stranger Thing (The Ever-Expanding Universe) Read Online Free PDF Page A

her to quiet down. Seriously, the girl might not be an Almiri like her father, but she sure has superhuman pipes.
    Dad must be able to tell that I’m feeling especially low at the moment, because he puts a hand on my shoulder. I stiflea tear that’s threatening to break loose from the corner of my eye and smile a tight smile at him. He smiles back, and I wait for his words of comforting fatherly wisdom that will get me through this whole ordeal.
    “Did I mention that the Fountain is the world’s first completely free-navigating space elevator?” he says earnestly. “There’s no Earthbound anchor needed at all!”
    “Flipping fantastic,” I say, turning away from my view of Ducky—who, at the mere mention of more travel, has begun hiccupping noxiously. “But, seriously, Dad, what’s our escape plan? How are we getting out of here?” I know my father, and if Mr. Harry Nara doesn’t have fifteen exit strategies in his pocket at this very moment, then I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. Or mother, at least. I shift the screeching Olivia away from my eardrums. Her wailing is reaching a decibel I thought only tweaked dolphins were capable of, which is not superconducive to the whole “crafting a master escape plan” thing. I try to run through a list of ideas—diversion? sabotage? fan dancing?—but my head is so fuzzy from Olivia’s squealing that I’m practically useless.
    “Dearheart . . . ,” Dad says at last, offering me a kindly smile.
    “I know you like me to figure these things out for myself, Dad,” I reply, shifting Olivia’s position again. If anything, she only gets louder. “But just at this moment I could really use some hel—”
    My father lifts the baby from my arms. And, without another word, he nestles Olivia’s tiny, slightly misshapen infant head securely in the crook of his left elbow. He shiftsher up a few dozen centimeters, so they are nearly nose-to-nose. And then . . .
    My father starts singing.
    “I love you, a bushel and a peck.
    A bushel and a peck, and a hug around the neck.
    A hug around the neck, and a barrel and a heap . . .”
    “Uh, Dad?” I say. This is for serious the weirdest escape plan I have ever seen. “You care to fill me in on what you’re—”
    “ Shhhh. ” Ducky cuts me off with a sweaty green hand on my arm. “I think it’s working.”
    “What’s work—” I start, before, duh, lightbulb .
    My baby has stopped crying. With me she was all screams and flailing, but two seconds with my dad and she’s calm as a cucumber. She’s even cooing .
    “How did you . . . ?”
    But Dad only has eyes for the baby. “ ’Cause I love you,” he finishes, “a bushel and a peck. You bet your pretty neck I do.” He brushes a hand across her forehead, smoothing out her fuzzy baby hair. “Sleep tight, baby Olivia,” he tells her. And sure enough—my mouth drops open—my little girl is asleep.
    Funny how a person can look about nine thousand times cuter when she’s not screaming bloody murder.
    I raise my eyebrows at my dad, who rocks Olivia gently in his arms.
    “Just like riding a bicycle,” he replies with a genial smile. He looks up at me. “That song used to be your favorite.”
    At that moment, the train car door slides open, and inwalks Alan, a.k.a. the World’s Most Forgettable Man. Alan’s been nothing but a bundle of yawns this whole trip, just “Yes, ma’am”s and “No, sir”s, with hardly anything in between. Seriously, the guy practically has “Expendable” tattooed on his forehead.
    “Alas! Alack! It’s Alan!” I say, hoping for some sort of reaction.
    “Yes, ma’am,” he says, all formal-like. “It’s almost time—”
    Dad shoots upright in his chair, clutching the still-dozing Olivia. “Time to dock with the elevator, yes! I could tell by the shift in the frequency of the train’s vibration. Elvie, just you wait . The whole thing will blow your mind, I promise.”
    “Golly gee,” I mutter. “Why didn’t I