May 12, 2015
A girl sat in a chair adjacent to the windowsill, wide olive eyes mesmerized by the water droplets tracing the imperfections in the old glass pane. Even though each individual drop started its journey toward the ground on its own, it eventually merged with adjacent droplets, gaining speed until ultimately plummeting toward the pavement below. The girl fidgeted with the pages of a book entitled "Physics of Magnetism," as if intending to read it, but, distracted by the motion of the rain against the blurred green background of the budding trees, she never glanced down at its contents. Listening to the whisper of the rain as it traversed the metal frame of the train car, the girl shut her eyes tightly, took a deep breath, and finally opened the book to the page she left off.
Ferrimagnetism, she read. That was odd. She wondered why they had spelled "ferromagnetism" wrong in the title until she continued on to the subtitle, The Theory of Antiferromagnetism, and she understood that ferrimagnetism was a new idea, something she had not learned yet. She felt an ear-to-ear smile slowly envelope her face in anticipation of the "New," the satisfaction of a curiosity developed mere seconds ago in the realm of ferrimagnetism. As she dived into reading, her surroundings faded away and her whereabouts were demoted to a secondary importance.
Progress in electronics has advanced high frequency magnetic technology and finally has led to the development of oxide magnetic materials. Before delving into the theory of ferrimagnetism, we present the theory of antiferromagnetism, by which we mean an antiparallel alignment of spins. For example, MnO is an antiferromagnetic material with a face-centered cubic crystal structure.
The girl paused, scrunching her nose and eyebrows in concentration, trying to recall this crystal structure. Eventually, realizing that she was clueless what this structure was, she made a note to herself to research it later, and continued reading.
The alignment of their spins is determined by the neutron diffraction technique. As is well known, the neutron has no electric charge, but it can be scattered by the magnetic moments of the—
"Rory," a muffled voice lulled through the shhhhhh of the pouring rain. The voice was so quiet, so far away. However, her book was close and intriguing. She decided to ignore the voice calling her name and continued reading.
But it can be scattered by the magnetic moments of the spins and nuclei because it—
"Rory! This is our stop!" came the voice, noticeably louder this time. Her focus broke, and suddenly her ears opened to the sound of squealing metal as the train decelerated. She shut the book with a resounding thud and peered up at the source of the voice.
Her half brother, Odi, stood in front of her, arms crossed. One of his hands held a collection of papers, among which was the resume he had just presented to a potential employer. The mop of hair atop his head was greased back and gingery, like the fur of a frequently groomed cat. An anxious frown played at the corners of his mouth. Seeing her brother dressed up for his interview made Rory's heart swell with hope that this new employer would hire him. After her parents died a few years before, she became a dependent of her 23-year old brother, so the financial burden of the family fell on him. He was a film editor, and sometimes a project would end and finances would be tight for a couple of months until he found a new project. During these times, Rory always felt guilty that as a student, she could only work a limited number hours per week.
Rory stood as the train rolled to a stop. "I think you'll get the job," she told him.
"I hope so," he responded reaching a hand up to nervously ruffle his hair. The doors of the train car complained as they opened onto platform 7. The siblings exited the car and began weaving through the crowd of people pressing to enter it. "What are you reading?" her brother asked. Rory presented the book, allowing him to read the cover. Odi's eyes flicked from left to right as he processed what it was, his eyebrows raising as he teased, "what in this book could possibly intrigue a 14-year old girl?" Rory rolled her eyes. Odi knew about her obsession with physics and astronomy. After the first month in school, she had pestered her freshman-level physics teacher to allow her to enroll in the upperclassman course instead, allowing her to pursue her newfound passion. Odi smirked at her, pausing a moment before plucking the book out of her hands and sprinted toward platform 10.
Rory smiled slightly at her brother's improved mood, and scrambled after her brother, cursing her legs for being significantly shorter than his. A clock tolled, warning that the time was now 1:00 pm, adding to the chaotic noise of the crowd. Shouts echoed off the brick walls of the station as the siblings crashed through the unsuspecting crowd.
"Give it back!" Rory's shrill voice sounded.
"Come and get it, nerd!" he shouted over her shoulders.
Rory laughed, happily accepting her brother's teasing. Since she was a student, and he was always working, moments such as this had not happened in years. She was grateful to let loose and feel like a kid again. She raced through the crowd, hopping over luggage and weaving through the blurred figures in the crowd to race after Odi's bobbing ginger head. As she approached platform 9, she noticed a plump, blue suitcase and attempted to gracefully leap over it, but it was taller than she had anticipated; her foot grazed its edge, she went tumbling into one of the wrought iron arches supporting the ceiling. She squeezed her eyes shut and rolled into a ball, tensing her muscles instinctively to brace herself for the impact with the wall. To her surprise, the only impact she felt was beneath her. She plopped down onto the ground and spun across the dusty, cement floor until her momentum was spent.
She lay still for a moment, trying to assess whether it was safe to unravel from her balled-up position, and, upon deciding it was, she lifted her head. Everyone had disappeared. She shook her head, listening for the buzz of the people in the station, but all she heard was the whisper of rain at the end of the tunnel. Puzzled, she glanced around. The station had the same brick walls, but instead of being 10 platforms wide, it only had one. She looked toward the sign on the iron archway that should have read "Platform 9." Only, the sign had changed. Now it read "Platform 9 ¾." Despite her confusion, she smiled. Whoever had placed that sign really knew how to make an original name for a platform. She wondered where she was, where this railway led, but she couldn't see a train schedule posted.
Rory considered panicking for a minute. She so far hadn't panicked, whereas most people stumbling on this platform probably would. After all, she was now lost. However, Rory felt some degree of familiarity with the empty platform. She decided this was odd; she had never been to this empty platform before and therefore had no business feeling familiar to it. She really should be panicking, and yet, she couldn't
She unsteadily stood and walked toward the archway. She started growing concerned about how she would return to Odi, but her calves were screaming from running and then tensing from impact. She decided she would solve one problem at a time and positioned herself close enough to the wall to stretch her calves. However, when she propped her foot against its iron surface, her food slid through and disappeared through the archway. "Weird," she said to herself. She raised her fist to knock on the iron frame, but her hand collided with no solid surface. However, when she leaned over to knock on the side parallel to the railway, her knuckles produced a resonant clunk. She decided that all sides but this one must be solid. "Is this side just a hologram?" she wondered.
She leaned to the side in question, squinting her eyes in an effort to determine the mysteries behind the wall when her watch beeped. She glanced down at her wrist. It read 1:05. "Odi!" she exclaimed, eyes widening as she remembered that she needed to steal back her precious book from her teasing brother. She glanced around at the puzzling, empty platform once more before taking a deep breath and stepping into the potentially holographic side of the archway.
Once again, she heard shouts echoing against the brick walls of the train station. A crowd of impatient people waiting for late trains buzzed around her. She glanced again toward the empty platform, but all she saw was the wrought-iron barrier separating platforms 9 and 10. She scanned the crowd for her brother's ginger head, spotting him at the exit near platform 10. She ran to catch up with him.
When she reached the exit, dazed and out of breath, her brother returned her book, and the siblings walked out into the rain toward their flat on Piccadilly. She swore to herself never to forget about platform 9 ¾.
