4

The next morning at Kellidale High began like any other — except Mason had a pounding headache that felt like someone tapping a pencil inside his skull.

He slid into his seat just as Mr. Malloy strode to the front of the classroom, coffee in hand and tie slightly crooked, as usual.

“Alright, class,” Malloy said, clapping his hands. “Today we’re looking at something fun — an unsolved problem. Something even the world’s smartest mathematicians haven’t cracked.”

A few students groaned.

Malloy grinned. “Oh, relax. I’m not expecting you to solve it. I just want you to look at it.”

He turned to the whiteboard and wrote:

THE COLLATZ CONJECTURE

Start with any number.

If it’s even, divide by 2.

If it’s odd, multiply by 3 and add 1.

Repeat.

Does every number eventually reach 1?

“Now,” Malloy continued, “this is one of those problems that looks simple but—”

“It does,” Mason said quietly.

Malloy paused. “Sorry, Mason? You said something?”

Mason blinked. He hadn’t meant to speak. But the pattern was already forming in his mind — lines, loops, sequences, all snapping together like puzzle pieces.

“It’s not unsolvable,” Mason said, louder this time. “You just need to track the convergence cycles. The odd number jumps create temporary growth, but the even number divisions always overpower them. The system stabilises because the halving steps reduce the value faster than the tripling steps increase it.”

The room went silent.

Malloy stared at him. “Mason… that’s… that’s not how anyone has ever explained—”

“And if you map the sequences,” Mason continued, words spilling out faster than he could control, “you can see the repeating descent patterns. They’re like… like gravitational wells. Everything falls into them eventually.”

He didn’t know where the words were coming from.

He didn’t know how he knew any of this.

He just knew.

Malloy’s jaw hung open. “How on Earth did you—”

Mason’s head throbbed.

Hard.

The room tilted.

The lights blurred.

The whiteboard stretched like melting wax.

Then everything went black.

…

Mason woke to the soft hum of a fan and the faint smell of disinfectant. He was lying on a cot in the school nurse’s office.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re finally awake,” said Miss Jayla, the school nurse. “We’ve contacted your mother. She’s on her way.”

Mason groaned. “Ugh… what happened?”

“You fainted, dear,” Miss Jayla said gently. “Took a little tumble when you hit the floor.”

“I feel like I came out of a hangover… not that I know what that’s like.”

Miss Jayla chuckled. “It’s alright. Most kids your age have heard the term. Sixteen-year-olds aren’t exactly strangers to the concept.”

She checked his pulse. “You had no fever, no signs of illness, nothing unusual.”

“Maybe it was the donut I had for breakfast,” Mason muttered.

“Oh no, dear boy, it doesn’t quite work like that. If it were food poisoning, you’d have a fever or stomach issues.”

Mason hesitated. “Could it be… lack of sleep? I didn’t sleep very well last night.”

“It’s possible,” she said. “Very possible. If this is a one time occurrence, I wouldn’t worry too much. But I won’t dismiss it either.”

She gave him a warm smile. “For now, I suggest you go home and rest.”

Mason nodded, but inside, his thoughts were racing.

He hadn’t just solved a hard problem.

He’d solved an unsolvable one.

And he didn’t know how.

…

Ten minutes later, Linda Reid hurried into the nurse’s office, worry written all over her face.

“Oh dear, are you alright?” she asked, brushing Mason’s hair back with a gentle hand.

“He’s going to be fine, ma’am,” Miss Jayla assured her. “He simply needs more sleep.”

“Well, I’ll make sure he gets plenty of sleep,” Linda said firmly. She turned to Mason with that mum voice that allowed no argument. “You hear that? No video games, no comic books, no social media scrolling. Straight to bed.”

“Awww, Mum…”

“Don’t you ‘aww’ me, young man.”

“Alright, fine…”

“That’s a good lad.” She smiled gratefully at the nurse. “Thank you so much for looking after him.”

“Just doing my job, ma’am — but I appreciate that,” Miss Jayla replied warmly.

Linda guided Mason out to her white Hyundai. He slid into the front seat while she settled behind the wheel, started the engine, and pulled away from the school with her usual careful driving.

“Not enough sleep,” she said, glancing at him. “I thought you were in bed early.”

“I was, Mum. I just… had one of those nights. Tossing and turning.”

He wasn’t about to admit he’d had a surreal nightmare involving a void, a puddle, and being consumed by his own VR avatar.

Nope.

If he told her that, she’d burn his comic book collection and- 

run over his video games with the car.

He wasn’t chancing that.

“Well, never you fear, son,” Linda said cheerfully. “I’ll make sure you get all the sleep you need tonight. I could cradle you in my arms like I used to — that always worked when you were little.”

“Mum!!” Mason groaned, face turning red.

She laughed at his protest and kept driving responsibly through the afternoon traffic.

A few minutes later, she pulled into the parking lot of her local bank branch.

“I just need to stop in and draw out some cash,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt. “Do you want to stay in the car or come with me?”

“I’ll come in. They usually have those free water cooler dispensers for customers. I could use some water.”

“Hahaha, well alright then. Come along, Mason.”

They stepped out of the car together and headed toward the glass doors of the bank.