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Steven Gould returns to the world of his classic novel Jumper in Impulse.
Cent has a secret. She lives in isolation, with her parents, hiding from the people who took her father captive and tortured him to gain control over his ability to teleport, and from the government agencies who want to use his talent. Cent has seen the world, but only from the safety of her parents' arms. She's teleported more than anyone on Earth, except for her mother and father, but she's never been able to do it herself. Her life has never been in danger.
Until the day when she went snowboarding without permission and triggered an avalanche. When the snow and ice thundered down on her, she suddenly found herself in her own bedroom. That was the first time.
avoided the snow as much as possible. Striking pantsuit.” “Thank you.” Darice leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially, “Long underwear! My car wouldn’t make it out of the driveway. Had to walk six blocks and change my shoes here.” She pulled a preprinted name tag off the clipboard and held it out, looking for an appropriate place to pin it, but the lines of Millie’s dress defeated her. “Here,” Millie said, holding up her clutch purse. “Pin it to this.” Darice did. “Great. Check your
into the air. I thought about the girls on the basketball team. I crouched and leaped, doing the velocity jump at the same time. How many people do you know who can jump fifty feet into the air? I let myself drop most of the way to the ground before I killed all velocity by jumping back to the sand. If I tried the same thing in the gym I’d crash into the ceiling. Less velocity. Less noise? Certainly less air rushing by. I worked on that same leap-jump, reducing the amount of velocity until I
the police boat rev up again. I looked out to see it pull away from shore with Rama at the controls. The girls saw me looking and waved. The man shook off the corpsman and staggered toward the boat, but it was well out from the shore by the time he’d managed ten steps. I waved back until the girls were too small to see. The man walked toward the shore and found his bleeding compatriot sitting on the grass where he’d been felled by the rocks. The corpsman hadn’t discovered him yet. There was no
van.” Dad got his coughing under control. “Not Grant?” “Right. Not Grant.” Dad looked at with raised eyebrows, waiting. “It’s Joe Trujeque, the team captain. You met him when you dropped me off at the van, that first day of practice.” “Isn’t he a senior?” “Junior.” Dad said, “A little old for you?” Mom and I burst out laughing. Dad grinned, too, and winked. Oh. This time he was being funny. Mom followed me back to my Yukon bedroom. “Dressing up?” I shook my head. I changed to an
like Brett. Joe’s a skateboarder and an A student. And he’s got the most adorable big honking nose.” Mom looked alarmed. “I see.” She licked her lips and then crossed over to the ceramic box on my dresser and tapped it. I felt my face go bright red and shook my head vigorously. “Way too soon.” She frowned and I said, “But I know where they are! And I can get to them in a millisecond.” She blushed and hugged me, then jumped away. She’d given me the box the day we “moved” into New Prospect.