by Ward Wagher
Wilton waved a hand and chuckled softly. “One the few times I have truly been able to sucker you. You will pardon me if I enjoy it.”
“If you weren’t such a good friend, I would tell you where to go,” Winkleman grumped. “I have few enough friends left, as it is.”
Wilton laughed delightedly. “Come on, Arthur, tell me you aren’t having more fun than you’ve ever had.”
“It was fun until all these strange events began.”
Wilton shook his head, with a frown. “Then, I’m probably not going to make you feel any better, today.”
Winkleman had been studying his hands. He looked up quickly.
“You’ve found out something?”
“I perhaps poured more resources than I expected into this project,” Wilton said. “It has been like stepping through the looking glass. I didn’t expect that.”
“You told me you were coming to give me a report on your investigation,” Winkleman said.
“I did,” Wilton said. He stood up and dropped a binder on the desk. “Under the circumstances, I decided to give you a printed copy of the report. I have the electronic copy stored in an off-line server. There is much here that just does not make sense.”
Winkleman picked up the binder and studied the cover. “Growth Estimates for the Palatinate Economy,” he read.
“And that report is in the front part of the binder. My findings are at the back.”
Winkleman’s eyebrows raised. “You are not very reassuring, Jasper.”
“Actually, I am a bit frightened by what my people dug up. You are probably smart to have security handy. I’m thinking about it, myself.”
“Give it to me in a nutshell,” Winkleman said.
“It goes back about ninety years to when Audry Clenèt perfected a workable gravity field. As you know, we didn’t get grav-fired fusion until almost forty years later.”
“I always wondered why it took that long,” Winkleman commented. “It is not that big of a jump.”
“Right,” Wilton continued. “Clenèt had all the pieces at his fingertips, but he suddenly ceased all work in gravitics. In fact, he accomplished very little during the rest of his life. And, he was a young man when he created the working gravity fields.”
“What stopped him?”
“That is a very good question,” Wilton said, raising a finger. “In fact, there were at least a half-dozen attempts to continue the research at MIT over the following forty years, and they were blocked for one reason or another.”
“Such as?”
“Adam Rayfield was the first. They found his body in the Charles River. Cory Letchfield,” Wilton continued, ticking off his fingers, “was sacked for illicit drug use. And, he had no record of such before or after. Bob Anderson hanged himself in the laboratory. Willard Wenchall simply disappeared. Nobody knows what happened to him. Need I go on? It’s in the report.”
Winkleman rubbed his hands together and then steepled his fingers. “It was the Brits who finally figured it out, wasn’t it?”
“Correct. The British team worked in secrecy at the Royal College of Physics in London. It was a group of doctoral students and they didn’t tell their advisor what they were up to.”
“And they did not patent anything,” Winkleman commented.
“Again correct. They released their findings on to the global net. Once it was out there, everyone was able to see it and duplicate it. The result is we have widespread fusion power.”
“And what happened to the British team?”
Wilton nodded. “Exactly. It seems they were prepared to follow up on their work. The college suddenly shut down the lab and dismissed the team. There were five on the team, and every single one of them fell off the grid. Nobody knows what happened to them. We spent some effort in locating them, and it is like none of them existed.”
“That is passing strange, Jasper.”
“Indeed, it is. And your friend Berthold walked right into the middle of it. I am amazed he is still alive.”
“So, arriving at the present day, what have you found?” Winkleman asked.
“This is where it gets… strange. We have identified several players but cannot ascertain their roles with certainty. Dr. Jerzy Pournelle, young Berthold’s advisor appears to have worked hard to spike the direction Berthold took. This included involvement in his original dismissal from MIT. After you funded Berthold’s return, Pournelle was no longer able to actively work against Berthold, but apparently worked behind the scenes to disrupt the work. Chester Rathgille, the dean, may have also worked against Berthold, but this is less clear. In fact, the circumstances surrounding the dismissal are cloudy, as well.”
“Can you go a little deeper on the dismissal, please?” Winkleman asked.
“Certainly. It’s in the report. The town council in Quebec received a request from MIT to terminate Berthold’s stipend due to non-performance. The original stipend agreement included a clause that MIT would report on the student’s progress. The council then acted by sending the termination note to Pournelle. We have the council’s actions and Pournelle’s receipt of the termination directive. However, there is no record anywhere at MIT where they requested the dismissal.”
“Could they have deleted it?”
“Almost certainly they could have, but they would be unlikely to do something like that. Our theory is that one of the actors deleted it for unknown reasons.”
“And this was through the efforts of the Man-Free Planet group, right?”
“They were involved, and the police rolled them up. There was enough evidence to put them in jail for a long time.”
Winkleman nodded. “Pray, continue.”
“Right. And, there are the two which defy analysis. The old lady, Mrs. Willow, and the student, Sebastian Sylvester. They are clearly involved, but we are not able to define how.”
“Both are involved? Are they a threat?” Winkleman asked quickly.
“Unknown. Both have clearly acted to advance Berthold’s interests, but always with ambiguity.”
“And Sylvester just arrived in Urbana two days ago.”
“Mrs. Willow is also there, now. In fact, she moved into the house next to the Bertholds.”
Winkleman grew still. He stared at Wilton.
‘What are you thinking, Arthur?” Wilton asked.
“I am thinking that I should go out to Urbana. Soon. Philip Guidard was found dead in Sylvester’s car. The old woman was the first to find Maggie after her accident. In both cases, the explanations were not a model of clarity. And, I received a call from Lawrence yesterday afternoon. He and Margaret are convinced there was another intruder in the laboratory.”
“I do not think you should go out there, Arthur. It’s these shadowy characters that seem to leave a trail of bodies.”
“I thought the Man-Free Planet people murdered Philip,” Winkleman said.
“Well, one of them confessed to it. But, they all clammed up when the topic of Sebastian Sylvester was raised. And, I am thinking that you need to stay put,” Wilton said. “You asked me to investigate. I do not consider the work to be complete. I can put my people on the ground in Urbana a lot less obtrusively than if you went out there.”
“Yes, but I am very concerned about Lawrence and Margaret.”
“Arthur, you are the Paladin. At some level, you need to delegate this task. I know you have a great attention to detail in your personal businesses. But, you told me yourself that you were too busy.”
“Do you not view this as a threat to the Palatinate?” Winkleman asked. This is exactly why you and the others insisted I take the role. I have a habit of accomplishing a lot through direct action.”
“Yes, but we did not anticipate the level of danger you would court in your actions. By direct action, we were talking about political issues.”
“Nonetheless, this is a direct threat.”
“Listen to me for a moment,” Wilton said. “There is one more actor in the mix.”
“Who?”
“We do not know.”
“That is not helpful, Jasper.”
“Some of my people are not even convinced there is another player. I have become convinced there is. It is someone powerful enough to control the pieces on the board while remaining in the shadows; someone who very badly does not want us to develop gravitic technology. They have left a trail of bodies for a hundred years.”
“No direct evidence?”
Wilton shook his head. “In many cases, we do not even know what killed the victims.”
“I’m going to Urbana. Whoever it is, and I believe you, there is another actor, they are interfering with my people and my school. It is dangerous, and it needs to stop. Now.”
“Very well, Arthur, but I am going to perform duty as a citizen of the Palatinate, and back-stop you. Please wait until I can get some people on the ground in Urbana.”
Winkleman glared at his guest for fifteen seconds. Then he nodded. “Okay, then, Jasper. Call your people in. But, they are not to get in my way.”
He stood up. “Thanks for coming by.”
Wilton sighed. When the old man got this way, there was no changing his mind. Jasper Wilton had carefully studied the report from his investigators. And he was frightened.”
He shook Winkleman’s hand and walked out of the office. He tapped his fingers on his leg as he rode the elevator to the ground floor. He walked out to where his driver waited with the car and climbed in.
“Where to, Chief?”
“To the airport, Jack. We’re flying to Urbana.”
As the car started moving, Wilton pulled out his phone and punched a number.
“Lloyd, I need you to put a team on the ground in Urbana as fast as humanly possible. The Paladin is headed out there with blood in his eye.”
He listened for a moment. “No, I couldn’t talk him out of it. You know how he is. Right. I’m headed out there, myself.”
The driver looked in the mirror when Lloyd Catchum’s voice began to carry over the phone.
“No, Lloyd. I’ve got to be there, too. You’ll just have to deal with it.”
“Sir, is there some reason why you should not go to Urbana?” the driver asked.
“There are all kinds of reasons why I shouldn’t go to Urbana. But, if Arthur Winkleman is going to be there, I need to be there, too.”
Arthur Winkleman stepped into his outer office and pointed to the secretary.
“Contact Abby Kreitzman and ask her to reserve a grasshopper and stand by.” He pointed to Brad Brannigan. “Brad, reach out to Alex. We’re going to Urbana, and I think I need both of you.”
Brannigan stood up. “Are you expecting trouble, Sir?”
Winkleman took a deep breath. “Yes. I think I am. I wish I had never let Maggie talk me out of having you two keeping an eye on them. They are in grave danger.”
“Then, you should remain here, Sir.”
“I recently had the same argument with Jasper Wilton. Same result. And do not roll your eyes, Bradley.”
“At least give me time to make some arrangements,” Brannigan said.
“You can make your arrangements on the way to the airport.” He turned back to the secretary. “Have the car brought around.”
“At once, Sir.”
Winkleman smiled at his guard. “You see, Bradley, it is not that difficult.”
“Very well, Sir. If you insist.” Brannigan turned towards the door.
“Better,” Winkleman said as he turned to follow the guard.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
With the start of the fall semester, the College of Urbana transformed itself from a sleepy community into a bustling mass of students, and faculty. The professors struggled in their course preparations to stay ahead of the students, and this was particularly true of new faculty. Maggie, Seb and even Larry found themselves very busy. Larry was now balancing the needs of his students with the lab work and found himself working long days, indeed.
Lunch for the faculty of the college involved everyone crowding into the small cafeteria for the meal that was provided by the school. The early arrivals would snag the tables and those making their way later were forced to stand to eat. Each year the faculty would request a larger room suitable for a cafeteria, and each year President Fledarman would decline with the reasons that money was perennially tight.
Larry and Seb would usually arrive early enough to claim a table. Occasionally an errant professor would claim the third chair at the table, only to abandon it when Maggie showed up in her wheelchair. There was some grumbling about the two young turks who monopolized a table while the older professors were forced to stand. Nobody complained about Maggie, however.
“The students, here, are pretty smart,” Seb commented as he dug into his scalloped potatoes and ham. “I’ve learned not to be sloppy in my presentations.”
Maggie grinned at him. “Somebody caught you out, did they?”
“Not exactly. In my algorithms class, I was demonstrating some code on the screen, and someone commented that I had three exit points in the routine.”
“What’s the problem with that?” Larry asked. “I do that all the time in my code. Sometimes you just have to do it when you are writing machine control programs.”
“Actually, you don’t,” Seb replied, pointing his fork at Larry for emphasis. “The rule says you should have only a single entry point and exit point in a routine.”
“So why did you do it, then?” Maggie asked. “I mean, I do it all the time, too.”
“I was trying to demonstrate the algorithm and tossing an exit in after each permutation was just easier.”
“What did you say?”
“You mean when I got done feeling like an idiot? I congratulated him on his attention to detail.”
“That was kind of you,” Maggie said.
“And, then I gave him an additional assignment to write a short paper on programming best practices.”
“That’s cruel,” Larry said.
“I was a little peeved, to tell the truth,” Seb said. “Besides, the rest of the class got some enjoyment out of the episode. Speaking of episodes, how are things going in your lab?”
“Very well, actually,” Larry replied. “But, what does the word episode have to do with it?”
“Oh, probably nothing. I was just looking for a way to change the subject.”
“I finished setting up the new equipment just this morning,” Larry said. “It’ll take me a week to calibrate everything. After that, though, we will be in business.”
“And then you can change the world?” Seb asked.
Larry snorted. “I don’t know about that. Arthur certainly has ideas on how to commercialize what I’ve done. He thinks the technology will enable us to hoist loads into low Earth orbit for pennies compared to what it costs, now.”
“So, he’s going into the spaceship business?” Seb asked with a muffled voice.
“Not exactly and quit talking with food in your mouth. It’s gross.” Larry turned to Maggie. “And how was your morning, Precious?”
“Interesting,” she said cryptically.
“Interesting good, or interesting bad?” Seb queried.
“Yes,” she responded. “I would agree that the students here a pretty smart, but they all seem to think that meteorology is a black art.”
“I thought it was, too,” Seb commented.
“Hush!” she snapped and slapped his arm. “Oh, they pick up on why we sample the conditions across the continent. But, the fact that we can model the weather and make useful predictions bewilders them.”
“I wonder why that is,” Larry said. “In most things I’ve talked to my students about, they are so far ahead of the undergrads at MIT it’s scary. And, Seb’s right. You have to pay attention to what you’re saying because there is no reluctance to challenge the teacher.”
Larry worked through his corned-beef hash and tomato slices. “You know, the food here is pretty good. Not a patch on Maggie’s
cooking, of course.”
“Of course,” Seb repeated. “Speaking of which….”
“Yes, you can come over for dinner tonight,” Maggie said. “You’re always welcome. You know that.”
“But I don’t want to be under foot.”
“If you got to be under foot, I would throw you out,” she said. “But, we do enjoy your company.”
“And remember that,” Larry added. “You can’t make a darned nuisance of yourself.”
Seb held up both hands. “Hey, I’m a nice guy. Listen, I’ll bring the beef, tonight.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Maggie said.
“Don’t listen to her, Seb,” Larry jumped in. “Of course, you can bring the beef.”
She reached across and slapped Larry on the arm. “Behave yourself.”
Larry looked around the room as he took a bite of his lunch. “We probably ought to hurry up so we can give somebody else the table.”
Maggie twisted to look at the room. “You’re right. They’re glaring at us.”
“Quit talking so much, Seb,” Larry said. “You’re slowing us down.”
“Gee, thanks,” Seb muttered, but he dug into his lunch.
After they finished their lunch, they picked up their dinnerware to take to the kitchen. As they did so, another group of professors quickly slipped in to grab the table.
“Are you going home this afternoon, Mags?” Larry asked as he pushed her down the hallway past the students’ cafeteria.
“I thought I might come over to the lab and help you with the calibrations.”
“I would like that,” he replied. “You have a better touch with the computers than I. A couple of the replacement items are new to me. It has taken longer to get the lab back together than I thought.”
“And I have to teach a couple of classes this afternoon,” Seb said. “I will see you at the usual time, tonight.”
“Don’t forget the beef,” Larry said.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“Now, stop that, Larry,” Maggie said. “Why do you torment him, so? We don’t have that many friends.”
“Seb and I always pick on each other. It’s what friends do.”
