by Ward Wagher
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Quintan woke up shivering. Through the gaps in the make-shift door to the cabin, he could see a heavy blanket of snow on the ground. He glanced up to where the branch and reed roof looked to be sagging, and then over at the fireplace. A medium sized fire danced merrily in the hearth. Unfortunately, it did not seem to overcome the wind whistling through the gaps in the walls. Mrs. Wallace was feeding more pieces of wood into the fire.
“I do not think we are going to be able to pack any more mud into the walls, today,” he said.
She swung her head around to look at him. “You have awakened. I brought some more cattails in for your breakfast.”
“You have been out in that?” he asked.
“Oh, the cold never bothers me.”
“You are fortunate, then,” he said. “We are not exactly well dressed for the weather.”
“In that case, Mr. Rogers, you should limit your trips outside to the necessities. I can take care of fuel for the fire and food. I shall also try to block some of the wider holes in the walls.”
“I cannot make you do that. You will wear yourself out.”
“You forget I am ruBrack, Mr. Rogers. I may resemble an elderly human, I am actually in the prime of my life. The cabin allows me to avoid expending excessive energies in controlling the environment. However, you must be very careful so that you do not become chilled.”
Quintan slipped out of his bed of grasses and reeds. He moved quickly over next to the fire. “Not to complain, but it is pretty cold in here.”
“Then stay close to the fire,” she said. “I am wary of letting it get too large. I do not want to set the chimney on fire.”
“No, we do not want to do that,” Quintan replied. “That would likely ruin our day.”
“So, you should go ahead and eat. Also, you need to keep an eye on the fire. I shall turn to my tasks.”
The cattails tasted like bacon and fried potatoes on this morning. Quintan ate until he was comfortably full. He judiciously placed more wood on the fire and huddled closer. As he sat, he pondered their situation. He wondered how Sally and Edgar were doing in their race to solve the harmonic problem. He wondered how Sally dealt with his absence and wondered if she missed him as badly as he missed her.
He slid the suitcase with the test gear closer to the fire and began studying the collected data again. The background to this universe was completely quiet. There was no underlying sine wave as there was in his home universe. He suspected that this represented the norm, and they would somehow have to completely dampen out the sine wave in his universe. He began to give some thought to solving that particular problem. After all, there was little else for him to do.
He jumped when a mass of cattail reeds slapped against the outside wall of the cabin. A handful of mud squeezed between the reeds and into one of the gaps in the wall. He felt guilty about sitting inside as the ruBrack worked out in the snow. But he also knew she was right. He could not long survive with his current garments. And there was no opportunity to acquire anything more appropriate, of course.
At one point during the day, Quintan stepped out of the tiny cabin and floundered deeper into the woods to take care of personal business. He noticed Mrs. Wallace had established a muddy path through the snow between the cabin and the water. As he returned to the cabin, he met the ruBrack coming from the water. She carried a roughly woven basket, made from the reeds, and it contained a good supply of mud. A heavy gust of wind probed at his suit coat and drove a chill knife-like through his shirt. He shuddered and quickly made his way inside.
He sat and studied the comp term and continued to ponder the situation as the ruBrack gradually filled the gaps in the windward wall. It seemed to him that it was possibly getting a bit warmer in the cabin. He no longer shivered quite as much. As the sun settled in the west, the ruBrack carried in a fresh supply of cattails for his supper and returned again with more firewood.
“I am amazed at how much warmer it seems to be in here,” he told her as she pulled the door into place.
“I can also tell the difference,” Mrs. Wallace said. “If things are not badly frozen over tomorrow, I will work on the opposing wall.”
“I feel guilty about sitting here while you do all the work.”
“Did you not work on your test gear today, Mr. Rogers?”
“Well, yes. I have put together the beginnings of some equations to model the parallel multiverses.” He shrugged. “For all the good it does.”
“I am sure it does good. When we return to your home universe, you will be able to confirm the work that Edgar, Sally and the Woogie have done.”
“But what if our home universe is no longer there?” he asked.
“I do not think that is anything you need to worry about, Mr. Rogers. Something like that is not in the Maker’s plan.”
“You seem very sure,” Quintan said.
“I am very sure. Now, you should cook and eat your supper. I will gather some more firewood before it becomes totally dark.”
He nodded and picked up a couple of the cattail stalks. He wondered what the ruBrack planned for his supper on this evening. His belt had gradually become snug, and he decided that regardless of whatever else happened, he had certainly eaten well over the course of this adventure.
§ § §
Cleo Malthusian looked up when the door to his stateroom slid open and Clevis Oates walked in.
“What have you done with Marla?” he demanded.
“We moved her to a different stateroom,” Oates said. “She has not been harmed.”
“How do I know that?”
Oates shrugged. “You do not know that. At this point, I do not particularly care what you think. We tried to allow you some modicum of comfort by putting you two together. That was a big mistake on my part. The paladin is rightfully furious with me.”
“But do you not care that the paladin is allowing the whole universe to crumble? Look around you at what is happening.”
“Unlike you,” Oates said, “I trust the paladin. He has proven himself repeatedly in difficult circumstances.”
“But do you not see? He is depending on the people who created this mess. Does that not represent a major flaw in his judgment?”
“You have obviously made up your mind, and I am not going to change it. You might as well make yourself as comfortable as you can. We plan to sit out here as long as it suits the paladin.”
“And the universe will disassemble itself and we will die.”
“If that happens,” Oates rejoined, “what are you going to do about it? You are right. It would happen and we would die.”
“But I can talk to Marla’s uncle. I’m sure he can sort things out.”
“And then the paladin would lock me up along with you. You are not paying attention, Mr. Malthusian, the paladin does not want you interfering. You are very lucky the two of you did not end up in an unmarked grave somewhere.”
“He would not dare to do something like that,” Cleo said. “That would be criminal.”
“And what you attempted was not? What you tried to do is treason in any body’s book.”
“Oh, come on, Clevis. How long have you known me?”
“About ten years. And I have known the paladin for nearly forty. He has credibility. You blew yours.”
“That is just so unfair,” Cleo said.
Oates shook his head as he studied the chubby little man. “I don’t know if anyone has ever told you this, Cleo, but the universe is not a fair place. Get over it.”
One of the crewmen eased into the room with a tray and set it on the desk.
“Here is your dinner,” Oates said. “Have a good evening.”
“What about my wife?”
“We are also giving her supper,” Oates said. “We will take good care of her… and you.”
Oates stepped out of the room, and the door slid shut.
“Commodore!” Cleo yelled.
He was answered by the soft shu
shing of the ship’s enviro systems.
“Commodore!” he yelled again. “You are required to answer me.”
Again, there was no response. Cleo stomped around the small stateroom several times in frustration. Finally, he sat down and picked at his supper. He told himself he needed to eat to keep his strength up, just in case there was another opportunity for escape. Besides, the dinner was very good. Clevis Oates apparently liked to eat well.
CHAPTER THIRTY
“When are you coming home?”
The paladin looked at his wife on the screen of the desk comm. “I don’t know, Precious. I think I’m here for the duration. Arnold is down for the count, and Edgar is getting ready to try a new experiment.”
The thin blond woman shook her head. “What should we tell everybody? There are already questions.”
“Tell them I’m very concerned about these strange events and am working with our scientists to figure out what’s going on. That’s the truth.”
“A part of the truth,” she said. “Is that not dangerous?”
He shrugged. “I’m not going to lie to the people. But there are times when it’s not necessary or advisable to tell everything you know. A lot of people are already over the line into panic. I think it’s our job to settle things down.”
“And if you do not solve the problem?” she asked.
“Oh, I think we’ll get this one licked.”
“But what if you don’t?” she persisted.
“Then it’s not going to matter, is it?”
Her mouth twitched slightly and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Darling, I am frightened. I want to be with you.”
“Look, the Bible has an entire book dedicated to the end times. In the end, God destroys the old heavens and Earth and creates afresh. There is a lot that has to happen between now and then. So, I don’t think Edgar will have succeeded in destroying the universe.”
“But can you be sure. Do you remember once telling me that we will not recognize the fulfillment of the prophecies until they happen?”
He raised his hands, palm up, in frustration. “I don’t know what to tell you, Precious.”
“I could come down there to be with you,” she offered.
“I’m sleeping on the couch in Arnold’s office.”
“I will find us something,” she said. “I will see you when I get there.”
She disconnected and he rested his forehead in his hand with a deep sigh. If word got out about what his scientists had done, his government would likely not survive. And he wouldn’t blame the people of the Palatinate for throwing him out. He simply couldn’t imagine a worse mess. And he felt like he probably didn’t deserve to survive. He had initially funded the Urbana Quantum Physics Laboratory and allowed the scientists free rein. But, what Edgar Forsenn had done simply beggared the imagination. He would never have dreamed anything like this could have happened. The paladin supposed it was instructive that humanity could venture into areas where it really did not belong. And he now had to fix it, somehow.
He pondered the great crises he had experienced in his life. At each juncture, he had usually waited too long before remembering to turn things over to the Master. And he had done it again. He was alone in Arnold’s office, so he slipped off the chair, onto his knees. He shortly was reminded of the warm embrace of the Master.
Later, he reluctantly got to his feet and wandered into the laboratory. Sally and Edgar were looking exhausted from the long hours. Even the Woogie looked bedraggled. The ruBrack, Mrs. Tasker, seemed unchangeable.
Edgar happened to look around and noticed the paladin standing in the lab.
“Oh, Paladin. I did not hear you come in.”
“How goes it, Edgar?”
“We are just about ready to engage the… new apparatus.”
Shuurely turned to look at the paladin. The being’s single large blue eye was bloodshot.
“To run the experiment and save the palladium,” Shuurely said. “A good day’s work.”
“Uh… right,” the paladin said. “When do you guys plan to run this?”
Edgar shrugged. “No time like the present, I suppose.”
“How is the sine wave?”
“Steady for the moment. From previous experience, I think we have several days before things build up to another event.”
“Let’s do this, then. How about if you guys go get some sleep. Mrs. Tasker and I will watch the systems. If we see anything strange, we’ll comm you.”
“What is this guise?” Shuurely asked. “Woogie not in disguise.”
The paladin laughed. “Go on. Get out of here for a while. When you get this tired, you start making mistakes.”
“Oh, very well,” Edgar said. “I am getting just a bit frazzled.”
The paladin and the ruBrack watched as the others left the lab. She turned to him after the door closed.
“What was your real reason for sending them away, Paladin?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Just the sense that they might have been getting ready to make another mistake. We cannot afford that. Sometimes you have to just step back and think about things one more time. I have learned to do that myself.”
“Is this from your experience as a cyberneticist?”
“That is exactly it. There is a time to push and then there are times you want to sit back and let your subconscious roam.”
“The human intuition again,” Tasker said. “It is as bewildering as it often is correct.”
The paladin walked over to Edgar’s work area and sat down. “I have never heard a good explanation for it. The most common explanation is that the subconscious mind recognizes things that the fore-brain misses. But I have seen too many times where after the fact no one has been able to identify a rational explanation.”
“We have seen that too. So, your intuition is telling you to wait?”
“That is it exactly,” the paladin said.
“What does your friend Josiah think about that?”
The paladin laughed. “Josiah doesn’t understand it either. He gets really frustrated with me at times, even more when I turn out to be right.”
“And how often does that happen?” the ruBrack asked.
“More often than not.”
“I should like to learn more about this,” Tasker said. “We often encounter it in humans and we need to learn how to better deal with it.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” the paladin said with a grin. “I will tell you as much as I know about it if you will answer questions about the ruBracks.”
“That is not reasonable,” Mrs. Tasker harrumphed. “There are somethings you simply do not need to know.”
The paladin shrugged and turned to the comp term display. He grinned to himself and rolled his tongue around in his cheek. The hook was set. Now, all he had to do was wait. In terms of curiosity, it seemed to him that the ruBracks were not so very different from humans… or Woogies.
Ten minutes later. “Very well, Paladin. What would you like to know?”
§ § §
After two relatively warm days, the winter storm was a shock. Mrs. Wallace had spent the decent weather in snugging up the cabin. She had collected some relatively flat pieces of stone and used it to construct a sort of a Dutch oven. While not as good as a cast iron stove, it threw off a surprising amount of heat without pulling it up the chimney. The little cabin was almost comfortable.
The temperature had dropped to well below zero and the wind driven snow blew sideways on its trip across the central plains. The snow drifted nearly to the top of the wall on the windward side of the cabin, which ironically eliminated the drafts seeping through the walls and made the place warmer. The real danger now came from those non-negotiable needs that forced Quintan outside periodically. But Mrs. Wallace had constructed a rudimentary privy fifty yards or so from the cabin, and had somehow lashed together a train of willow branches along the path so that Quintan would not lose himself in the storm. Even so, those regular trips were
unpleasant.
Quintan spent his days working with his comp term and studying the data collected from the interstitial spaces. He had gradually built up a picture of the parallel-multiversal structure. As his understanding improved, so did the development of some ideas. After giving it some careful thought, he decided to share the idea with Mrs. Wallace.
“Are your beacons still working?” he asked.
“They are passive devices, and so will work until I disable them,” Mrs. Wallace said. “Why do you ask?”
“I think I may have found a way to send a message across the boundaries of the multiverses.”
“Would this involve the equipment you have with us?” Mrs. Wallace asked.
Quintan nodded. “It does. And there is a potential problem as well.”
“What would be the problem, then?”
“The accumulators in the equipment are at about three quarters. This would probably drain them completely.”
“And would that also drain your computational device?”
He shook his head. “No. The Comp Term is still above ninety percent charged. I think it would go for several months.”
“What is more important?” she asked.
“Assuming we can get home, the information stored in the comp term is definitely more important. It stores the data collected from the test apparatus. No, my main concern is that we would have to get this right the first time. There will not be a second chance.”
“I see,” Mrs. Wallace said heavily. “If the other ruBracks were going to find us via the beacons I set out, we would have been rescued by now. Yours seems to be the only opportunity. How sure are you of your calculations?”
Quintan grinned. “Perhaps I should take a couple of days to review the math. It would not do to transpose a number or something.”
“Indeed. One of the sayings humans seem so fond of is, we are not going anywhere. I will leave you to review the calculations.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Cleo Malthusian had finally accepted that he was not going to be able to affect the outcome of the crisis caused by the paladin’s scientists. Marla had told him often enough that he was too passive, but he was unable to think of any possible solutions to his predicament. He had to admit that their captors fed them well. The filet mignon was done to perfection and the baked potato was outstanding as well. He wasn’t sure what made one potato better than another, but this one was good. With nothing else to do, he slipped into the bed and composed himself for sleep.
