now；　but　do　you　rule　it　out

pletely？”

At　that　moment　I　was　feeling　absolutely　no　scientific　curiosity。　But　in　a　desperate　attempt　to

block　Bryce　Loski　from　my　mind；　I　asked；　“What's　a

perpetual…motion　machine？”

My　father　and　Chet　glanced　at　each　other；　chuckled；　then　shrugged；　giving　me　the　sense

that　they'd　just　agreed　to　let　me　into　a　secret　club。　My

father　explained；　“It's　a　machine　that　runs　without　any　external　power　source。”

“No　electricity；　no　fuel；　no　water　propulsion；　nothing。”　Chet　glanced　over　my　shoulder　and

asked　rather　absently；　“You　think　that's　a　doable　thing？”

What　had　distracted　him？　Was　Bryce　still　in　the　foyer？　Why　didn't　he　just　go　away？

I　forced　myself　to　focus　on　the　conversation。　“Do　I　think　that's　a　doable　thing？　Well；　I　don't

really　know。　All　machines　use　energy；　right？　Even　real

efficient　ones。　And　that　energy　has　to　e　from　somewhere…。”

“What　if　the　machine　generated　it　itself？”　Chet　asked；　but　one　eye　was　still　on　the　foyer。

“How　could　it　do　that？”

Neither　of　them　answered　me。　Instead；　my　father　stuck　out　his　hand　and　said；　“Good　evening；

Rick。　Nice　of　you　to　have　us　over。”

Mr。　Loski　pumped　my　dad's　hand　and　joined　our　group；　making　little　ments　about　the

weather。　When　that　topic　was　all　dried　up；　he　said；

“And　wow；　that　yard　of　yours　has　really　e　along。　I　told　Chet　here　that　we　ought　to　hire

him　out。　He　really　knows　his　pickets；　doesn't　he？”

He　was　joking。　I　think。　But　my　father　didn't　take　it　that　way；　and　neither　did　Chet。　I　was　afraid

of　what　might　happen　next；　but　then　Mrs。　Loski

tinkled　a　little　dinner　bell　and　called；　“Hors　d'oeuvres；　everybody！”

The　hors　d'oeuvre