The Long Road Home

by Max Swan

  “Stop pulling our legs. It has some hidden propeller making it fly,” she said.

  “It isn’t flying, it’s falling. Remember Newton and his apple that fell from the tree. Well if he had one of these babies he could’ve made the apple fall up,” Paul said with a grin.

  “Who’s Newton?” Lynda asked.

  Oh fuck, Paul thought bitterly, this is exactly why I shouldn’t be here. “Ah, never mind,” he said slightly blushing.

  Marcus has his hands on his hips as he watched the GFM. “Richard, if this toy is some kind of trick to save your arse, then you’d pack your things, and leave now.”

  “Einstein!” Lynda suddenly said loudly.

  “What are you talking about, woman?” Marcus said, shaking his head at Lynda.

  She looked at Marcus and blushed. “He said ‘Newton and the apple’. I think he meant Einstein, you know, the guy who discovered gravity.”

  “Yes, I know who Einstein is. Now get out, I need to talk with Richard,” Marcus said gruffly.

  Lynda grimaced and quickly left the office, closing the door behind her. Paul guided the GFM so it hovered below the ceiling, but directly over Marcus’ head. Suddenly, Marcus began to levitate off the ground.

  “Woah! Hey! What the fuck are you doing?” he called as he fell toward the ceiling.

  “How is it?” Paul asked.

  “Put me down! Come on, put me down!” Marcus shouted in agitation.

  Paul smiled at him then worked the remote making Marcus land softly on his feet. Marcus looked at Paul as if he had been deeply insulted.

  “So what did that feel like?” Paul asked.

  Marcus scratched his head for a moment. “It felt like… falling.”

  Paul nodded with a smile. “The GFM bends gravity so what was once up, becomes down.”

  Marcus stood there stunned, looking at the GFM, trying to make sense of what had happened. He walked to the desk and picked up the GFM and looked at it closely. “This device bends gravity?” he asked, staring at it.

  “It can also generate clean power. This device makes the combustion engine obsolete,” Paul declared.

  “What? No! But how? Since when have you been working on this?” Marcus sat, took Paul’s coffee, and began to drink it.

  “Marcus, I made the breakthrough about six months ago, and have been secretly working on it to show you something concrete. I know my reputation here, so I waited until I had finished before I told anyone. Not even Emma knows about it.” I hope he buys this bullshit, Paul thought.

  “Is that why you missed the dinner, or was that another of your girlfriends?”

  “I’m sorry I missed the dinner. A friend arrived in Melbourne with the final element I needed to make the GFM work, and I spent the weekend working with her as a result,” Paul said.

  “Her?” Marcus raised an eyebrow making Paul blush slightly.

  Paul sighed. “Yes, ‘her’. She works with CERN, at the collider. That’s all there is to it, I promise.”

  Marcus top lip curled up in a sneer. “I don’t care about the dinner, but the way you embarrassed Emma again is too much. You’re a fool, Richard, too busy chasing tail to see what you have at home.”

  “My absence over the weekend had nothing to do with that, I promise,” Paul said.

  Marcus stood and walked to the window that looked out over the courtyard below. Students were walking, carrying books, and chatting. Some sat on the grass reading. Others were talking or typing into cell phones.

  “Why the hell didn’t you at least call, and tell us what you were doing? Emma has been frantic all weekend because you disappeared, and we couldn’t find you.” He turned and looked at Paul with narrow eyes. “Now you tell me you spent the weekend with a woman, whom helped you with your work? I’m sorry, but I don’t believe that for one minute, given your history.”

  An awkward silence hung in the air and Marcus went back to looking out the window at the comings and goings of students. Then he said, “So do you have any theory to back up your, ah, GFM gizmo?”

  Paul grabbed some papers in front of him, and held them out. “Here I’ve already written a paper about it for this moment.”

  Marcus spun wide eyed, looking at Paul, then the papers, “This sudden scholarship is so unlike you, Richard.”

  “Are you going to take them?” he asked holding the papers out.

  Marcus stepped forward and took the papers, sitting in the chair again.

  He studied the first page for a moment. “I don’t think I can do it, Richard. You’ve let me down so many times, I don’t think I could take it if I read this, and—” The words stalled on his tongue.

  Paul looked at Marcus in unbelief. “Then get someone else to read it for you. We’re at a University aren’t we?” he said.

  Marcus stood abruptly, “OK, follow me, and bring that gizmo with you.”

  They left the office, heading out of the building and across a large courtyard toward another building. The Dean didn’t speak as he marched forward clutching the papers in his hand. They entered another building, marching quickly along a corridor until Marcus finally stopped, and poked his head into a lecture theatre saying something which Paul couldn’t hear. A portly man in his fifties appeared from the lecture room, wearing a black robe, and looking angry. Paul then remembered who this man was from his study of campus staff: Professor Alan Pearce the ‘Head of Mathematics’.

  “I hope you have a good reason for interrupting my lecture, Marcus,” he said, curling his lip in such a way it almost met his frown.

  Professor Pearce looked at Paul and sneered, which made him feel intimidated. Marcus handed him the papers, and the Professor started reading the top page.

  After he got halfway down the second page his head bobbed up, and he asked, “Who did this?”

  “Richard here,” Marcus said gesturing to Paul.

  “Him? Huh! Don’t waste my time with stupid jokes, I’m in the middle of class here,” Professor Pearce said looking at Paul again with a scowl.

  “Oh, I’m not joking. Richard claims this paper is his work, and he’s even built a device that he claims can bend gravity based on these equations,” Marcus said.

  Professor Pearce then motioned them to follow him. Walking into his Faculty Offices, he ordered someone to take over his lecture. A nervous looking woman ran out of the office in hurry. They followed Pearce into a laboratory, watching as he picked up a pen, and began writing the equations on a large whiteboard.

  “All right let’s get down to the nitty-gritty of this thing.” Pearce said clicking his hands and looking ready to debunk another impostor. “Mmm, you’re claiming that gravity around a large stellar mass is a combination of fixed gravitons, and others moving,” he said reading the papers.

  Paul nodded, but Professor Pearce laughed.

  “Is this more nonsense about spaceships powered by gravity engines? Didn’t the last time you published this teach you anything, Starr?” Professor Pearce said.

  The way he spoke left Paul in no doubt that Alan Pearce didn’t think Richard deserved any scholarly accolade. Paul felt the urge to hit the patronizing man, but kept his anger at bay.

  “Well at least do me the courtesy of proving my equations wrong, before you trash them,” Paul said coolly.

  Pearce stared at Paul with narrowed eyes for a moment, and started writing on the board again. He tried every which way to pull that equation apart, and began to sweat when he couldn’t find fault. Marcus sat at the back of the room, as other academic staff entered the laboratory. Word spread around campus very quickly.

  Initially Paul felt very nervous, but he soon realized what he considered ‘general knowledge’ was more than ample to stand under the scrutiny all these intellectuals were putting him under. The hardest part was trying to decipher questions based on scientific theories debunked by his own time. Scientific theories still considered current on this Earth. After a while the laboratory filled with curious people, trying to shoot down th
e discovery.

  “So how can a local gravity field overcome the whole gravity of Earth?” someone asked.

  “The equations clearly shows that some gravitons are fixed in place, in all stellar objects. The number of gravitons depends on the mass of that object, of course. There’s also free gravitons, which move between branes from the same location. These constitute more than half the gravitons you find in a large stellar body, like Earth,” Paul answered as he wrote equations on the board. “By concentrating the free gravitons in a space you specify, it dilutes natural gravity enough to make the field act independently,” he finished, writing the equation that proved this and the scientists looked astonished.

  “But how do you concentrate gravitons where you want them?” a physics doctorate student called out, “A magic wand?”

  The room laugh.

  “Maybe a demonstration is in order,” Paul said. Picking up the GFM, he held it up for all to see. “I have built this small version of a device that can change the geodetic field, and thus alter the concentration of gravitons,” Paul explained.

  He put it down and took the remote. The lights around the side of the oval-shaped GFM blinked to life, making the audience titter. Then it floated into the air without a sound.

  “It’s a trick, a toy!” the doctorate student said.

  Paul guided the ball to the student and landed it in his hands.

  “Show us how it flies then, if you think it’s a trick,” he challenged.

  The student looked all over the GFM trying to find evidence of a motor of some kind. Eventually, he looked up at Paul wide eyed in shock.

  “I can’t find anything,” he said.

  Paul touched the remote and suddenly the student and the GFM floated slowly up to the ceiling.

  “Oh! What are you doing? Hey!” the student called out.

  Paul smiled, then lowered him as the audience chattered excitedly among themselves.

  “You still haven’t explained how you can alter the geodetic field?” a man he recognized coming from his department asked.

  “I don’t want to go into too many details here, Fred, but it involves element115. The heavy element spins in a centrifuge, positioned according to the direction you want to move. The geodetic field manipulation occurs in the device,” Paul said.

  Then another scientist asked, “How do you control the potential for antimatter explosion using element115?”

  Paul replied, “The antimatter output is minuscule, so it’s controlled by releasing it into a chamber that keeps it from reacting with the matter that surrounds it. It mixes with plasma, causing a controlled annihilation that converts the antimatter into plasma gas. That’s then used to counter the next antimatter build up. It’s a self-sustaining system.”

  Marcus made his way to the front of the room, flashing a smile at Paul, then shaking his hand vigorously. Then he turned to face the crowd of scientists and students, whom quietened to hear him speak.

  “Ladies and Gentleman, I want to thank-you all for being part of this most unusual peer review today. Professor Pearce and his department have decided that Professor Starr’s equations are sound.”

  The audience started to grudgingly clap, but Paul didn’t acknowledge it, as the discovery didn’t belong to him. Marcus raised his hands, and the room went silent again. Paul felt relieved that at least the first obstacle had been overcome in this mission. If they’re to get plutonium through the university, they need to impress. Still, he worried the Professors reputation is far worse than he had thought. The way Marcus and the educators had spoken to him, and showed no joy in such a momentous discovery, made him worry that using Professor Starr as a cover would backfire on them. Still, the thought of Nadir getting angry over the actions of the Professor, made him feel better.

  *****

  Richard woke in a soft warm bed, and sat up looking around. The room had some wooden furniture, but not much else. Climbing out of bed, he walked to the window, and looked out gasping at the view. Outside of the window, large forbidding snow-capped mountains were all he could see. Where the hell am I, he thought? Looking around, he spotted the door, and walked out of the bedroom into an open-plan kitchen living room. Cool place, he thought looking at the furniture.

  On the kitchen bench was some food and drink, which made him realize how hungry he felt. The view of mountains dominated from the windows, and spotting a balcony, he decided to look. The glass door was heavy, and he pushed it feeling the chilly breeze making him shiver. The coldness on the balcony hit him hard, he wrapped his arms around himself as he went the railings, and looked over. Amazingly, a sheer drop to the bottom of several thousand feet confronted him. There’s no going over the balcony, he thought. On either side of this balcony were several others sticking out of the cliff. Looking up he could see windows in the rock face. I’m in a mountain fortress, he thought.

  He shivered as a cold gust of wind rattled through him and he wondered where the hell he is. Suddenly, a phone started ringing inside the apartment, so he ran in, and looked for it. On a small table next to the sofa sat a phone, and it were ringing.

  He walked over and sat, picking up the phone saying, “Hello?”

  “Good morning Professor, I hope you’re happy with your quarters,” a male voice said.

  “Who is this?” Richard asked.

  “It doesn’t concern you.”

  “Where the hell am I, and why am I here?”

  “Your location is secret, and you’ll be released once your father in-law pays the fee we have set.”

  Richard thought that strange, but to his surprise he found he couldn’t laugh.

  “You’ve kidnapped me for a ransom? The old bastard won’t pay a red cent for me. He hates me.”

  “Maybe, but your wife doesn’t, and we’re willing to wait until he pays.”

  “My wife?” Richard said, and thought, she probably hates me too, since I missed the faculty dinner. He decided he had better not tell them that in case they decide to cut their losses, and dispose of him.

  “How do you feel?” the voice asked.

  “Feel? What do you mean?”

  “How do you feel?” the voice repeated.

  Richard wondered why it was asking him such a strange question. He sat in silence staring out the wall length windows at the view, wondering what he felt at that moment. It occurred to him that given that he’d been kidnapped, and is now being held against his will in this place, he should feel something. Shouldn’t he be afraid? Angry? He felt nothing, absolutely nothing.

  “I don’t feel anything, have you done something to me?” Richards asked.

  “We’ve given you something that will keep you calm during your stay with us. We don’t want to hurt you Professor. The television works, there’s music and books, and a gym in one of the other rooms. We’ll even try to supply you with a newspaper, when we can.”

  “Throw in some pussy, and this imprisonment will seem more like a holiday,” Richard said, thinking he should laugh, but he didn’t.

  “We’re not barbarians, Professor, it’s merely business. I’ll talk with you again soon. Goodbye.”

  The phone went dead.

  Richard put the phone down and hit a few numbers to see if he could dial out, but got nothing. So he stood, deciding to look around. He spotted a corridor with three doors, leading off the kitchen. The first on the right opened into the gym the man had told him about. A door across from that on the left was a bathroom, which also had a door that went into the bedroom. The door at the end of the corridor was locked. Putting his ear to the door, he hoped to hear something on the other side, but heard nothing. He stood there staring thinking. It seemed pointless to pound on the door, it looked sturdy like solid oak. Richards’s stomach began to grumble, and his hunger became so strong it made his knees feel weak.

  So he walked back down the corridor into the kitchen, and found the food that had been left for him. Before long, he had made himself a ham, cheese and tomato sandwich,
poured a glass of what tasted like cola, and went and sat on the couch. Picking up the TV remote control, he hit the red button, and the flat-screen monitor turned on. As he flicked through the channels they were all cable TV, and movie channels. No news channels, that didn’t surprise him. So he settled on some reruns of a sit-com he liked, and began eating his sandwich. The sit-com didn’t seem as funny as he remembered it. Maybe it’s the drug they’ve given me, he thought. I feel as flat as a pancake.

  *****

  Nadir and Dexter watched the Professor on the monitor from the Bridge, as he sat back eating his sandwich. The thing that worried him is knowing their prisoner would be spending months in there, and how that might affect him. People get bored very easily, and even with serup coursing through his veins, they won’t be able to stave off his natural curiosity indefinitely. He’s a prisoner, and like all prisoners he will test his cage.

  “How do you plan to keep him occupied for the duration Mr. Crimpson? This television will only keep his interest for so long,” Nadir asked.

  “The serup dose should dampen his will, and make him pliable to suggestion. I’ve also arranged for some cognitive exercises for him, to help occupy his mind. If all else fails, I’ve rigged your quarters with some sleeping gas. I’ll be observing him to build a psychological profile,” Dexter replied.

  “I still think it would’ve been easier, to put him on ice.”

  “Hopefully this way he’ll think he’s never left Earth, and he was kidnapped by criminals. Which should leave no residual memories for the Vaman’s to discover.”

  “All right, I’ll leave this in your hands. But I want to know whether anything unusual happens. The last thing we need is this man running around Ship,” Nadir ordered.

  “Yes sir.”

  Chapter 11

  Paul felt grateful he had Dexter to help, as he scanned various assignments he’s supposed to grade. Dexter had a better idea of what to expect from this time period, which had proved a stumbling block for Paul. He’d already been in conversations with scientists talking about theories he knew nothing about. Only later to be told by Dexter that the theory he had been trying to pretend he knew about, had been disproved by their time, and that’s why Paul had never heard of it. The irony not lost on Paul. His knowledge of physics is advanced compared with the scientists of this Earth. However, his knowledge of physics history, well that’s another matter altogether, and something which would’ve been more valuable.