Captured (The Prometheus Project Book 2) Read Online Free Page B

city.
    Their parents looked confused. “I don’t understand,” said their father. “How did Regan help you?”
    Ryan realized his mistake immediately. He had forgotten that his parents didn’t hear his sister’s telepathic shout.
    “I don’t know what he’s talking about,” said Regan, also realizing his mistake. “I didn’t help him.” Right after saying this she quickly broadcast, “You’re very welcome, Ryan. It’s not like you haven’t saved me before.”
    All sets of eyes turned toward Ryan. “You know, now that I think about it,” he said lamely, “she’s right. I’m not sure what I meant just now.”
    Their parents exchanged worried looks. Ryan hallucinatinghelp from his sister wasn’t a good sign. Their mother examined them carefully and then had them answer a few simple math and science questions to be sure their memory and reasoning had not been affected.
    Fortunately, after a few minutes they seemed to be doing well, and their parents were beginning to finally let out the mental breath they had been holding. Mrs. Resnick guessed that they would have been knocked unconscious in another ten or fifteen seconds had they stayed where they were. After that, who knew how long it would have been before they suffered permanent damage.
    When their mother was absolutely convinced they had fully recovered, all four Resnicks made their way back to the large table at which Mr. and Mrs. Resnick had been seated when their children had arrived. They were understandably cautious entering the building again, and prepared for an immediate exit if they were assaulted once more, but nothing happened.
    Ben Resnick stroked his chin, deep in thought, and his brown eyes danced rapidly across a set of graphs displayed on a large, high-definition computer monitor on the table. He was a little less than average in height, had brown hair a few shades darker than his son’s, and often looked a bit unkempt. He was also widely regarded as one of the best physicists in the world.
    “I’m pretty sure I know what caused this,” he said at last. “But I need to check something.” He quickly wentaround the room, cluttered with human equipment and numerous alien devices of every type that he was studying, and deposited electronic sensors at equal distances from the table. He then returned to the table and flipped a switch on a piece of human equipment, about the size of a washing-machine, that was sitting beside it.
    Nothing happened.
    Mr. Resnick studied the computer screen for several long seconds, nodded, and then flipped the switch the other way.
    “I was right,” he said triumphantly. “I know what happened.” He pointed to the large device he had just switched on and off with no apparent effect. “The ultrasonic generator caused it.”
    “The what?” said Regan.
    “Ultrasonic generator. I was calibrating it when you came in. It generates high frequency sound waves.”
    “Sound waves? Then why didn’t we hear anything?” asked Regan.
    “Ultrasound is high frequency sound beyond the range of human hearing. You can’t tell if this generator’s on without sensors and a computer.”
    “I don’t get it,” said Ryan. “Sound that you can’t hear? In my book, if you can’t hear it, it’s not sound. What’s the point?”
    His father shook his head. “There are far more uses for ultrasonic sound than you would imagine, Ryan. The waves can be very high-energy. You can use them to breakup kidney stones. You can bounce them off a fetus to visualize it inside its mother.” He raised his eyebrows. “And if you direct powerful enough ultrasonic energy at a liquid, you can even create tiny bubbles that can reach temperatures above those found on the surface of the sun.”
    “Really?” said Regan.
    “I wouldn’t kid you,” said Mr. Resnick, smiling. “Anyway, the generator was on a setting that should have been harmless. But something in the material of this building somehow concentrated all of the