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try.”
    “If it had been anybody else, I’d have died.”
    I pulled the handle and popped open the car door, embarrassed. Was she using a politician’s trick, pretending I’d met a standard I’d obviously failed to meet? Slyly shaming me by stressing her pride in me, and making it so that I’d rather die than fail her again?
    It would be a long night alone in my dorm room to think about it.
    Other graduate students wouldn’t lower themselves to living in a freshman dorm, but as an exchange student, I was happy to have a place to stay at all. My family didn’t have money like Barry’s or Melissa’s. We were middle class, but that had a different meaning in India than it did here. We didn’t have a TV when I was growing up. We had a car, but if you looked down, you could see the road going by through the holes in the floor. My trip here was meant to change all that, and I sacrificed a lot to make sure that it did.
    I checked the time. Once again, it was too late to Skype anyone back home. They’d be at work. I started some tea to help me relax.
    What things I’d seen today from this team! How lucky I was to be a part of it. I was proud of them, how they sprang into action to save Riff. Nobody hesitated for a minute.
    Melissa surprised me. She really took charge. Smart, beautiful and brave, she jumped right in with the resuscitation. She probably saved his life.
    A moment before, she had been soaking wet and nearly naked, frolicking in the water—while I shamefully hid behind the ATVs and watched. Another wave of embarrassment burned my cheeks.
    Put that out of your head. She is your friend.
    I readied my cup and spoon, but my thoughts returned to the mine. And Roger, running in naked to save the day. I chuckled. He showed real composure, though. He was a naturally gifted athlete, and his strength paid off today.
    My teapot whistled for me. Meanwhile, a few blocks away, I knew Barry would still be up, studying the machine.
    * * * * *
    He had been fascinated with its sleek, lightweight frame, and its many knobs and gauges. But tonight, by design, Barry had the machine all to himself, and he meant to make the most of it.
    He stared at it for hours, standing silently in his living room. He occasionally circled it like a shark, observing every detail, taking it all into memory, only pausing to crack open a new can of Diet Coke or to use the bathroom to get rid of the prior one. Then he was back at it, mesmerized by it, and absorbing every aspect of it as if it might suddenly disappear and never return.
    Its metal surface was smooth and free of corrosion of any kind—odd, for such an old machine. The piping work that made up most of its egg-shaped frame was bronze in color but completely without rust. Its underside was mostly a simple sled, just two rails, really. There were no visible nuts or bolts, or even any obvious welds. It appeared almost polished just sitting there, after getting the dirt knocked off by yesterday’s rains on the drive home.
    As he looked it over, he tried to decipher its many unusual features. It seemed to have some kind of self-contained, "closed" powering system, because it had no obvious opening to insert or pour a fuel of any kind. There were countless rows of metal tubing that ran under the seat. They also appeared on the surface of the large cylinder at the sled’s rear, to take something very important—or dangerous—from here to there, and back again.
    It had two large levers attached on each side, and a flat panel of mysterious dials that sat in front of a lone, hard metal seat. It would fit just one lucky passenger at a time. Behind him or her rested a very large and very intimidating wheel, like a turbine fan, with a hundred rectangular blades all waiting. It was probably three feet across, but located just inches from the back of the seat. The mud from the mine had held the big fan in place, but now it moved freely at the slightest touch.
    The whole rig was deceptively light. At