The Infinity Program

by Richard H Hardy

“Well, I guess I’m suspect, too. He practically accused me of being gay the other day.”

  “Really? That’s unbelievable.” She paused, as if trying to recall something. “You know, Jon, he told me something really weird the other day. He told me there was some kind of infestation in Harry’s office—bugs or something.”

  “That’s crazy,” said Jon, “The guy is definitely a nutcase.”

  Lettie leaned in closer. “Let’s not talk about him anymore. We’ve got more important stuff to take care of.”

  Jon frowned. “You mean the documentation project?”

  “No, silly, I mean this!” She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. He put his arms about her waist and pulled her closer. She sighed and moved so close that she was nearly in his lap.

  They both started at the sound of a knock on the door. When Lettie drew back, he saw that her face was flushed with excitement. She straightened her skirt and ran her hand through her hair.

  “Come in,” Lettie called out.

  It was Tina Johnston. “I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time,” she said.

  Neither Lettie nor Jon replied.

  “How’re things going?” Tina asked.

  Jon smiled and replied in a neutral tone, “We were making out.”

  Lettie gave his foot a sharp kick.

  “You need help with something?” Lettie asked.

  Although clearly doubting their sanity, Tina chose to forge ahead with her request as if Jon hadn’t spoken. Or perhaps, Jon thought, “making out” was a foreign concept to her. “I’m afraid I’m having trouble reading the handwritten captions on the magnetometer diagram,” Tina said.

  In minutes Lettie was able to decipher the captions for her. Tina thanked her, apologized again for the interruption, and hurriedly closed the door behind her.

  Once Tina was gone, Lettie said, “I guess we better cool it. We might have some serious explaining to do if someone walked in without knocking.”

  “It’s going to be a long wait for Saturday,” said Jon.

  Lettie ruffled his hair. “You’ll survive,” she said, as she opened up her notebook on the documentation project they were working on.

  They finished up at about twelve-thirty, after a full work session.

  Lettie stood up and rummaged in her purse for a brush. As she brushed out her hair, she said, “I’d like to ask you to have lunch with me today, but I have other plans. Almost every day for the past couple of weeks, Eric has been lurking about the cafeteria, waiting for me. A couple of times I cleared out of there because I felt so uncomfortable. But this time I’m just going to tell him to fuck off.”

  Jon pretended to be shocked. “Lettie, I didn’t know you used language like that!”

  “You should have heard me when I was in college,” she said and laughed. “I have a feeling that in the near future you’re going to learn all about me, warts and all.”

  “Oh, come on. You don’t have any warts. You’re perfect!”

  “Hah!” she said and they both laughed.

  Back in his own office, Jon realized that he hadn’t asked Lettie about George Ludwig. The guy had surely gone around the bend. Jon didn’t worry too much, though, because he had a strong sense that Lettie could take care of herself. He just wished he could be a fly on the wall when she told Eric Meyers where to get off.

  Later in the afternoon Ted Blume stopped by Jon’s office.

  “I just wanted to update you about what’s going on with the Pentagon group,” he said as he took a seat. “I just got out of a meeting with them and I thought you’d be interested.”

  “Thanks,” said Jon, “I definitely am.”

  “Basically, they’re ecstatic about Harry’s PKD software. Their testing has gone really well. But this Tom Delaney character seemed to be raining on the parade somewhat. He kept whispering stuff to the general during the more technical points in the discussion. I’ve got really good hearing. I managed to overhear a snippet, something about the I/O being screwed up. Do you have any idea what could cause that to be a problem?”

  Jon remained pokerfaced. He knew immediately what Tom Delaney had run into. He must have been monitoring the Input/Output on Big Moe during their testing. Since all the serious number crunching was being done on the quantum computer, the Input/Output on Big Moe wouldn’t have been sufficient for such a heavy-duty process as Public Key Decryption. Naturally, this made Delaney suspicious.

  “I’ll have to ask Harry about that one,” Jon said.

  “Don’t worry too much. It’s not a game changer. They are really into this new software—hook, line, and sinker. In fact, they are starting to push us about the other types of decryption programs we promised. They want a status report ASAP. I think I can put them off until Harry gets back. Speak of the devil, have you heard when he’ll be back at the office?”

  “Not exactly. My guess would be early next week.”

  “That’ll work,” said Ted. “Let me know if you hear anything definite.”

  “I’ll be sure to do that.”

  Shortly before five, Jon called Lettie at her office to finalize the arrangements for their dinner date on Saturday. It was decided that he would swing by Lettie’s place at seven p.m. and they would take it from there. They bantered back and forth for a moment or two before Jon asked the question that had been on his mind.

  “How was your lunch today? Did you have your run-in with Major Meyers?”

  “Most definitely,” Lettie said and then began to giggle like a school girl.

  “Well, what happened?”

  “Oh, he sauntered up to my table, flexing his muscles like a Neanderthal and looking very pleased with himself. He said, ‘Can I sit down?’ I said, ‘I’d rather you didn’t.’ So naturally he sat down anyway. He said, ‘Did I do anything to offend you?’ And I said, ‘You got up out of bed this morning.’ He scratched his sloping forehead for a moment and then said, ‘What about the roses I’ve been giving you?’ I said, ‘What about them?’ He scratched his head some more and then said, ‘They’re not cheap, you know.’ I said, ‘Well, neither am I!’ Then he said, ‘There must be somebody else.’ ‘Oh, there most definitely is,’ I said, ‘and I’d rather he didn’t see you sitting at my table.’ ‘Is it anyone I would know?’ he asked. ‘It’s Jon Graeme,’ I said. And then he practically had a cow! ‘That Ivy League faggot?’ he shouted. I was really embarrassed. A whole bunch of people stared over at us. Then he jumped up from the chair like he had been burned and walked away really fast, dragging his knuckles on the floor.”

  “Oh, wow, what a scene!” Jon said.

  “Hopefully that’s the end of it. I tried to discourage him a few times before, but ‘polite’ does not work with that guy.”

  “Well, if he ever implies that I’m gay again, I think I’ll recycle Harry’s line and see what happens.”

  Lettie laughed. “I don’t think we’ll be hearing much more from that guy.”

  The conversation turned back to their plans for Saturday night. After finalizing the arrangements and exchanging a few affectionate words, they rang off.

  Almost as soon as he hung up, the phone rang again. He grabbed it quickly, thinking that Lettie must have forgotten something. To his amazement, it was Harry.

  “Hi, Jon, what are you up to?”

  “Just wrapping things up for the day,” said Jon.

  “Have you got time to stop by my office?”

  “I sure do.”

  “Well, come on down!”

  Jon shut down his PC and turned out the lights before walking over to Harry’s office. He opened the door without knocking and called out. “It’s me, Harry.”

  He walked down the narrow foyer and past the steel bookshelves to Harry’s back office. When he rounded the corner and saw Harry seated at his desk, he stopped in amazement. Since the last time he had seen Harry there had been a transformation.

  Harry rose to meet him, a big smile lighting up his face. Though a simple act, it reflected a sea change
; he had never greeted Jon in so civilized a manner before. There was a calm about him, a physical and emotional equilibrium that was completely atypical. The stress and tension that had always been part and parcel of him had completely evaporated.

  “Jon,” he said, “you’re not going to believe what I’ve discovered. In three days I’ve travelled a quarter of a million years into the future.”

  Jon barely took in what Harry said. He was studying Harry’s face. It was no longer gaunt and troubled. The bags beneath his eyes were gone, as were the nervous ticks. Jon had never seen him looking so relaxed and in such robust good health.

  Before Jon could reply he heard footsteps behind him. He turned just in time to see George Ludwig step around the corner. Ludwig looked almost ridiculous in a suit much too large for his gaunt frame. His eyes were wide and unblinking and the pupils were fully dilated, as though with Bella Donna. When he raised his right arm, they saw the gun in it. Shaking visibly, he pointed the gun at Harry.

  “Between you and your father you’ve completely ruined my life!” Ludwig shouted. “Now it’s payback time!”

  Without thinking of the consequences, Jon stepped into the line of fire, hoping to defuse the situation. The instant he stepped in front of Harry, Ludwig started firing. He fired five shots in quick succession, his hand shaking wildly. Two of the shots hit the wall behind Harry’s desk and the other three hit Jon.

  “You bastard! You bastard!” Ludwig screamed. He waved the gun wildly and then turned and ran out of the office.

  Jon staggered to his left and managed to support himself by leaning against Harry’s desk. Harry had ducked behind the desk, but Jon barely noticed him. He glanced down at his chest and saw that he had been shot through the heart. He watched as a roseate stain spread across the front of his white shirt, the blood almost purple in the artificial light. His eyes shut and darkness overwhelmed him as he fell to the floor.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  At first there was only a vague, kinesthetic awareness, marginal at best. The tips of his fingers tingled and his toes and the soles of his feet were slightly numb. Gradually, he became aware of a gentle, binding pressure about his entire body. There was something like pain in his chest and abdominal region, but it was so faint it barely registered. His mind was suspended between sleep and wakefulness. Flights of images streamed through. Faces, landscapes, buildings, roads, all faded in and out, a dream ready to commence. Time passed but did not register in seconds or minutes or hours. He might have been drifting through a fog.

  At last, something like true consciousness returned to him, along with an ego awareness. His mind wrestled with this new information and a feeble strand of logic tried to tie things together. Where am I? he thought, at the same time realizing there was a much more profound question he needed to answer. Who am I?

  He tried to open his eyes but a subtle pressure against his eyelids prevented him. With a great effort of concentration, he was able to force his eyes open. He saw that he was surrounded by a gelatinous material that had a green tint. Through the distortion of this medium, he saw an object moving toward him. It was amorphous, though vaguely pyramidal in shape. A metallic tendril emerged from it. Attached to the tendril was the largest hypodermic needle he had ever seen. The tendril telescoped outward and the needle moved toward his midsection. He tried to scream but when he opened his mouth it filled immediately with gelatinous slime. He struggled wildly for no more than ten seconds before unconsciousness descended again.

  The next time he woke, his mind was more focused and he knew immediately who he was. He blinked his eyes open and saw that the gelatinous material was gone. He was in a vast chamber illuminated by diffused light. He searched for its source, but could not find it. Were oxygen atoms being stimulated to emit photons by some sort of laser device? Ambient light with no obvious source—it just didn’t seem possible. He sat up and saw that he was on a white, metallic table that seemed to yield to his body like a very firm cushion. He swung his legs out over the edge of the table and felt a stone cold floor beneath his naked feet. It was then that he realized he was completely naked.

  He slid off the table and looked about him. Ten feet away was a neatly folded pile of clothes. He went over to examine them. They were his, all right, but it seemed something had happened to his shirt and undershirt. A red stain that looked like blood covered them. Each of them had three holes in the front. He tried to imagine what could have happened to them but no explanation made any sense.

  After dressing himself, he looked around. In the distance he saw a vast arcade lined with row upon row of black crystalline slabs. They stretched on and on, as far as the eye could see. In the slabs nearest to him he detected a play of strange patterns. They danced across the surface of the slabs, a phosphorescent shimmer that appeared and disappeared with no discernible rhyme or reason.

  He was suddenly overwhelmed with confusion. “Where am I?” he said out loud, and his voice echoed back to him endlessly. He turned slowly around. Seeing one area of the vast cavern that was brighter than the rest, he began to move toward it. Each time his foot touched the floor, it echoed eerily down the cavern. His brain was roiling. Was this just a dream or had he lost his mind? None of it made any sense. The last thing he remembered clearly was entering Harry Sale’s office.

  After he traversed several hundred yards, he saw that the bright light was coming from a small alcove. He picked up his pace and reached the alcove within a minute or two. When he stepped into it, he saw Harry Sale.

  Harry was sitting in a large command chair in front of a horseshoe-shaped control console. A gigantic screen in front of him matched the contour of the console. It was at least twenty feet wide and about five feet high. Harry’s chair glided smoothly on metallic tracks in front of it and his hands darted over a vast keyboard, composed of thousands of keys. The characters stamped on them had a superficial resemblance to various alphabets. Some seemed vaguely Greek or Cyrillic but Jon could recognize nothing remotely akin to the characters on a conventional keyboard. Harry was in his habitual mode of total focus, blissfully unaware that his friend had entered the room.

  “Harry!” Jon said sharply.

  Harry was so startled that he nearly jumped out of his chair. Holding his right hand over his heart, he said, “Jesus, you scared me.”

  “What the hell is going on, Harry?”

  Harry gave him one of his half-smiles. “What’s the last thing you remember?” he asked.

  “Don’t answer my question with a question. Tell me what the hell is going on.”

  “Tell me, what’s the last thing you remember?” Harry said again, more emphatically.

  “It was the end of the day,” said Jon. “You asked me to come to your office. The next thing I know I’m here.” Jon’s shoulders were hunched and his arms hung loosely at his sides. He was at the end of his rope.

  “My friend,” Harry said, “you don’t recall George Ludwig coming in? He pulled out his gun to shoot me, but you … you ran between us. He shot you through the heart.”

  “I was shot through the heart?” Jon said in astonishment. “Why didn’t I die?”

  “You did,” said Harry. “You were resurrected by the nanobots. I activated the programs that summon them. The same type of nanobots resurrected me after my fall at Tartan’s Crag. It was a more difficult job in my case, since I was just so much raspberry jam at the bottom of a 1,500 foot deadfall. It was an easier with you—just a bullet through the heart and a bullet through the gut and some shoulder damage.”

  “I wish you had another chair here,” said Jon. “I need to sit down.” Jon’s knees buckled, and he knelt on the floor to get his bearings. “Why can’t I remember?” he asked.

  “The nanobots deliberately edited out the final traumatic memories when they rebuilt your oxygen-starved brain cells. It was the same with me. I can remember losing my balance and falling, but I can’t remember falling 1,500 feet and going splat.”

  There was a pause in the co
nversation until Harry spoke again. “I guess I’ll never get to hear why the hell you jumped in and took the bullets meant for me.” Again, the half-smile. “That was either the dumbest move ever or the bravest.”

  Jon was only half-listening as he gazed, awestruck, all around him. What Harry had told him was too much to take in. He would have to press him for more detail later. “Where are we?” he asked in a near-whisper.

  “We’re about a mile underground, some twenty miles from Building C.”

  “How the hell did we get here?” Jon asked.

  “Let me go back a few steps,” said Harry. “It’s the only way this is going to make any sense. As you remember, last week I made my breakthrough. I finally cracked some of the higher level directories on the quantum computer. It was like a switch was turned on in my brain. I finally had a handle on the quantum programming environment.”

  Jon regarded his friend with dismay. Here we go, he thought, another lecture laced with equations and algorithms.

  “Harry,” Jon asked, “How did we get here?”

  Harry narrowed his eyes at Jon. “Once I made the breakthrough, I needed a more substantial interface. Big Moe didn’t cut it anymore. I was going to show you all this when you came to my office.”

  Harry stopped for a moment and scrutinized Jon to make sure his friend was listening before he continued with his explanation. “I programmed the nanobots to connect the subbasement that adjoins my office with this area. You just enter the subbasement from my office, go down the stairway and give the password. I made the password easy to remember—it’s the first thirteen digits of pi. The elevator transports you a mile down and twenty miles west in just under five minutes.”

  “What do you need all this for, Harry? What the hell are you doing?”

  “Incredible things, Jon, incredible things,” he replied. “I’ve got at least a dozen projects in the works. Some big stuff—important stuff! I’m building a quantum heat pump beneath the Arctic Circle. When it’s completed it’ll be fifty miles long and ten miles across. It’ll suck excess heat from the Arctic Ocean and dissipate it through multiple levels of phase space. The breakup of the polar ice cap will be slowed and then stopped altogether. I’m also building a million square miles of quantum carbon scrubbers across the floor of the Pacific Ocean. This’ll neutralize the CO2 buildup.”