by B K Brain
“We’ll make it,” she said after watching him check his watch for the thousandth time. Of course he wasn’t convinced until the plane door closed behind them.
Once in the air he allowed himself a smile. His luck was holding, at least for now.
This had better be worth it, he thought as the captain spoke over the intercom about weather conditions between New York and D.C.
Worth it or not, their adventure had begun.
David referred to the trip as an adventure, both to himself and Cathleen, because that sounded better than what it actually was: a long boring day at two of the worst places ever - an airport and a coach seat on a 727 commercial jet.
His low opinion of air travel began ten years ago, when a short layover in Dallas turned into eight hours of waiting after getting ‘bumped’ off an oversold flight. He suspected a Spanish Inquisitor had commissioned the hard plastic seating at gate 23. That, or a coalition of malicious chiropractors.
“Okay,” Cathleen said. “Spill it. Tell me why we’re going to Pennsylvania. And just so you know, if this was all a ruse so you can profess your undying love to me, I’m gonna have to blow up the plane.”
David laughed. Damn he was glad he brought her along.
“While I do love your sense of humor, I’m afraid I’m not in love with you. Sorry.”
She pressed hands into prayer mode and looked to the ceiling. “Thank you, Jesus.” Her eyes settled, and narrowed, on him. “I’m listening.”
David described the strange conversation with Dr. Jacobson, every unbelievable detail. The black hole. The exclusive offer that ended at midnight tonight. And the ‘bad people’ that were after the technology. She listened to all of it without voicing a single interruption. When he finished she sat motionless for a few seconds, as if to let it all sink in.
“Well,” he said. “What do you think?”
“How well do you know this guy?”
“Not very. But he is a respected scientist.”
“So you believe him?”
David pursed his lips. Ran a hand through graying hair. Locked eyes with Cathleen. “I won’t believe anything until I see for myself.” He turned to look out the window, into the cloudy haze of thirty thousand feet. “It would be amazing, though. Wouldn’t it? If he could actually do what he claims?”
She grinned. “Yeah. It would be amazing.” Sarcasm? Sure. But perhaps a bit of wonder as well. At that moment David thought Cathleen might want to believe as much as he did. The moment passed. “I’ll tell you one thing,” she said. “If you show me a black hole today I’ll take it all back. You show me an actual black hole and I’ll profess my love to you.”
“I look forward to it,” he said. What would adventure be without a little romance?
The plane landed at Dulles at ten after three. Their next flight was scheduled to leave from gate B35 at four o’clock. Seemed like a good time to get something to eat.
The restaurants along Concourse B included City Wok, Carrabba’s Italian Grill, and Chipotle, among others. Cathleen picked the Chinese place, not so much for the food, but the length of the line. Fine with David. Actually, all food decisions for the day would be on Cathleen, just as all the tabs would be on him. He owed her that much for making the trip tolerable.
They laughed a lot over the meal, mostly at Randal’s expense. Five seasons with the snooty host had provided an endless supply of amusing stories; from the sexy dolly grip of 2009 and the guinea pig fit of 2011, to the always hilarious these are not my glasses fiasco from last year. Each was a bluddy ‘ell classic deserving of its own Monty Python sketch, especially when told by Cathleen.
They arrived in Morgantown, West Virginia at five. By five thirty David sat behind the wheel of a Chrysler 300, a rental from Hertz. Cathleen took on navigator duties, armed with a GPS app on her cell.
Once across the Pennsylvania State line it was twenty miles north to Dr. Jacobson, the lab, and hopefully the highest ratings in the history of television.
4
Director William Garret leaned over a cluttered table, slurping from a Styrofoam cup. The local diner served go-go juice just the way he liked it - thick, oily, and high octane. His current dose had gone cold more than an hour ago.
He squinted at a map of Illinois and the surrounding states trying to determine if the dark splotch he saw was part of the topographical terrain or a coffee stain. It made no difference. A mountain range north of Springfield had no bearing on their manhunt. It was annoying, though.
Definitely coffee, he thought as he rubbed a thumb over the spot. He grinned, thinking a giant pocket watch probably hadn’t taken out Indianapolis either.
Three locations were circled in red marker, indicating places Doctor Jacobson might’ve gone. Each had been crossed out days ago, with the same red ink.
One was a research center in Pearl City where the scientist spent six months in ’95. Nothing.
The next was further south, an observatory just outside Mount Carmel. The staff there never heard of Jacobson.
The third was a condemned high school in Paxton. A tornado in 2006 did extensive damage to the school itself, but the attached gymnasium went untouched. It would’ve provided enough space for the doctor’s experiments. Field agents found it empty Thursday afternoon.
Garret rubbed fingers into his temples and sighed. At this point they were grasping at straws, obviously. They’d need to widen the search.
Satellites hadn’t been able to track either of the researcher’s phones. Garret figured they’d been destroyed sometime after the last text from Sharon, yesterday morning. That complicated things.
Jacobson could be anywhere in the world by now, but most likely still in the states. He had neither the connections nor the resources to travel that far with such large, delicate equipment.
I know you’re still here. I will find you.
A young agent walked over and stood waiting for Garret’s attention.
“What is it, Thompson?”
“I have compiled a partial list, Sir.”
“Let’s see it.”
Twelve possible locations. Another school, a few abandoned factories, and
two more research facilities. One in California, one in Pennsylvania, both temporarily closed.
“Start with the science centers. Then work your way down the list. Keep me updated.”
“Yes Sir.”
5
David turned left on Rural Route 6, leaving paved civilization behind. Forest on both sides of the road thickened as cell service dwindled to one bar, and then none. Occasional stretches of washboard-packed dirt shook the entire vehicle like one of those magic fingers massage beds from the 70’s. Mixing the contents of his stomach like a martini wasn’t worth a quarter then, and it certainly did nothing for him now. Nothing except amplify the need for a bathroom.
Cathleen looked up from the map. “Turn here,” she said. With a jolt tires once again found smooth sailing, in the form of a single lane of blacktop headed east. Other than the better quality roadway there was nothing to indicate a laboratory, or anything else, existed out here. There hadn’t been any signs. Not a single mailbox. Nothing.
Not until they pulled into the parking lot.
The building stood tall and sleek in the dark woods, as out of place as an alien spaceship. A stone pedestal at the entrance held a plaque that read, Stratton & Sutherland Research Center. A lone vehicle occupied the lot, an older model Dodge pickup with an empty flatbed trailer attached.
“I guess this is it,” David said.
Cathleen looked around with a suspicious glare. “It looks abandoned.”
“Jacobson and his partner are the only ones here.”
“You did say you trust him, right?”
“Um, no. I never said that.”
“I hate you so much right now.”
He grinned. “You’ll get over it when you see a black hole.”
“There’d better be a black hole here somewhere. If I just flew two thou
sand miles to take a drive through the woods I’m gonna be pissed.”
David put the car in park and shut down the motor. “Me too.”
A man walked out from the glass entryway. Wrinkled tee shirt, blue jeans, scrambled brown hair, glasses. Even from the car they could see dark purple flesh encircling Jacobson’s bloodshot eyes. The doctor’s face hadn’t seen a razor in days. By the look of him, he hadn’t slept in those days either. At least he’d found the energy to smile and raise a hand to wave at his guests.
Cathleen smiled back as she opened the passenger door. “He looks homeless,” she whispered. “And completely crazy.”
David agreed, but held back from saying so. He ducked out of the car, watching the man approach. “Dr. Jacobson. It’s nice to see you again.”
The doctor looked even worse up close. His eyes were watery and lined in blood. The skin below hung like bruised saddlebags. This didn’t appear to be the same man David met three years ago, although he knew it was.
“David,” he said reaching out to shake hands. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. I hope you didn’t have trouble finding the place.”
“No, not at all.” He turned to Cathleen. “This is Cathleen Williams. She works with me at the studio.”
She said, “Hello Doctor.”
“Nice to meet you. And call me Sam.” He shook her hand, but his eyes didn’t leave David. “I hope you’ve told no one else.”
“You’re looking at the only two people who know about your experiment. What little we do know, that is.”
“Good, good. I’ll explain everything. Please come inside.” He took off toward the building.
David got his bag out of the car and then jogged to catch up with Sam. Cathleen did not leave her boss’s side, not for one skeptical second. He could tell she didn’t expect to see anything amazing today, of course she didn’t. Truth was, his faith had begun to waiver as well. He wanted to believe, more than anything, actually, because believing meant saving the show, the only thing he was ever good at.
To be honest, as he looked over the expression on Cathleen’s face, all of this suddenly felt silly. If this was some kind of scam the doctor was running, he’d soon find out. He might even end up filing a lawsuit to teach the guy a lesson. This afternoon had cost over five hundred dollars, after all.
A black hole? Yeah, right, he thought. And then, God, I’m starting to feel really stupid.
The north corridor ended at a stairwell and a connecting passage to the left. Sam took the stairs to an upper floor and the two followed. Another long hall led to six closed metal doors, three on each side. The doctor disappeared inside the nearest.
David stepped inside and saw a window that overlooked a much larger room to the left, four by six feet of glass, give or take. The open area beyond stood the height of the entire building, stretching from ten feet below where they stood, up to the ceiling of the story above. The distance across was a hundred feet, maybe more. It was a massive space, constructed for big, impressive experiments. David hoped so, at least.
Below the window sat a row of computer monitors with accompanying keyboards and mice, on a counter that ran the length of the small room. There were two chairs.
Six more monitors had been mounted on the far wall, each displaying what looked to be video feed from a security camera. David recognized the double doors at the front of the facility.
A fat metal cabinet sat in the corner, with thick plastic-sheathed cables plugged into the side. The lines trailed away from the cabinet like unruly vines over a forest floor, the opposite ends disappearing into desktop computer towers across the room.
David couldn’t help thinking how makeshift it all looked. And dirty. There were candy wrappers and cereal boxes strewn everywhere. A half-eaten burrito next to one of the keyboards. And crushed Pepsi cans on the counter. It was easy to see that Sam and his partner had been living there.
“So, I assume your colleague is here somewhere?”
Sam growled with frustration. “It had to be done.”
“Excuse me?”
“What? No. I’m afraid Leon had to go.” He reached behind a computer and pulled out a baseball. He held it close, inspecting something that had been written on it.
“He’s not here?”
“It was a personal matter. His absence is unavoidable, I’m afraid.” Sam locked eyes with David, cleared his throat, stared. Then, a smile. “Let’s get to it.”
David looked to Cathleen. “Ready when you are, Doctor.”
“I know I said I would show you a black hole, and I will. But first I need to illustrate how such a thing is possible.” He held the ball up for his guests to see. “This,” he stated proudly, “is a baseball.”
Cathleen snorted. “Wow.”
“Wow indeed. As you can see, it’s been signed by Roger Clemens. He pitched for the Red Sox in the 80’s. Later, he went on to play for the Yankees.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” she said. “But what does that have to do with a black hole?”
He handed her the ball. She took it, looked it over, shot David a smirk.
“The machine behind you is a quantum computer, the most advanced quantum computer in existence, actually. There are over five hundred particles trapped inside, each one a Graviton, a force carrier of gravity. I finally found them, after twenty years of seeking them out.”
“I don’t suppose you can prove that,” David said.
Sam smiled. “It’s not like I can take one out and show you, but I will prove what they can do. If you’ll bear with me a moment longer.”
David took a step back. “Please continue.”
“You see, the Graviton not only governs gravity, it is also a carrier of the universal code. The mathematics that create reality.”
Cathleen said, “Math creates reality?”
“All science is math. Find the equation and you have found the truth.”
“Okay,” David said, to show he was following along. What he really wanted to say was Get to the damned point.
Sam leaned over a keyboard, typed in a line of text, and pressed enter. SIMULATION START flashed on the screen above. Two video boxes appeared side-by-side on the screen. Each showed a card table with a small white ball sitting in the center, the baseball Cathleen was now holding, or one made to look just like it. It appeared to be the same signature, although it was impossible to tell on the little monitor. David figured it was the same ball, just recorded earlier.
“That’s not a live feed. That’s a recording.”
The doctor grinned. “Right you are. I recorded it earlier this morning. Please indulge me and have a look out the window, down to the floor below.”
They stretched to see through the observation glass and saw the same card table, missing its ball, of course. A halogen light fixture and two cameras on tripods stood a few feet away, aimed at the table.
Cathleen grinned. “Would you like me to put the ball back on the table?”
“No, thank you,” Sam said. “That’s what I’ll be doing. Now keep your eye on that table. You won’t want to miss this.” He walked behind them, to the quantum cabinet keyboard. “Are you ready?”
“Ready,” David said.
“Don’t blink.”
David focused on the empty surface below, wondering what he was supposed to be seeing, right up until he saw it.
A click from behind.
A hum.
And then, seemingly out of thin air, a baseball. On the table.
“What the shit?” Cathleen blurted.
“No way,” David added, before feeling a clap on the back.
Sam laughed under his breath. “Do I have your attention now, Dave? Or am I boring you?”
Unable to pry his eyes from the impossible, David said, “You have my attention.”
The doctor’s eyes brightened. “Yes, I thought so.” He went to the first computer, leaned close to squint at something on the screen, turned back to his guests with a new energy electr
ifying his expression. “Let’s go downstairs and have a look, shall we?”
David glanced to Jacobson, and then down through the window again. The magic baseball remained in the middle of the table, awaiting closer inspection.
They followed out the far doorway and down a flight of stairs. Cathleen was right behind, mumbling something inaudible. David thought maybe she was preparing her confession of love for him, although she was probably just cursing.
At the bottom of the steps and past a narrow threshold, David found himself in the massive room he’d seen through the window. The card table stood under a bright yellow spotlight, between two video cameras. A baseball signed by Roger Clemens sat in the middle of the table, as real as the one in Cathleen’s hand. She walked up beside David and held her ball up, in case he wanted to compare signatures.
“As long as the quantum computer’s algorithm runs, the ball will exist right there on that table. But don’t touch. Trying to move it from its current position would be very dangerous.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s where the Gravitons believe the ball is. It cannot be moved. Anything, or anyone, that tried would be…well, kept from doing so, for lack of a better explanation.”
“Kept from doing so by what? The computer?”
“Yes. The reality on this table is defined by what the computer believes to be true, and in turn, what the universe believes. I stated that a ball, that ball, was on the table, and so there it is. It’s all about observation, you see. The simple act of looking, perceiving, is what governs reality. And if you can communicate your expectation to the cosmos, as I now can, you can hack the system, so to speak. You can do anything.”
The doctor’s grin, accompanied by bloodshot eyes and the dark, weary rings below them, was unsettling. It was an expression of satisfaction, of power, of self-righteousness. And, David thought, of emerging insanity. This guy had taken a few too many steps down the pier, no doubt about it.
