A Pause in Space-Time (A Stasis Story #1) (The Stasis Stories)

by Laurence Dahners

  How to do this, how to do that.

  He found himself sprawled on his own bed. She’d perched on the bed that would belong to his roommate as she advised him on the social milieu at the university. Suddenly, in what felt to Kaem like a completely unrelated topic, she asked, “What’re you going to study?”

  “Um,” he said, drawing a blank on his classes. The one he remembered was only because he dreaded it. “I’ve got English…” he trailed off as he tried to remember his other classes, none of which he was enthusiastic about.

  “Not what classes you’ve got, what you want to learn overall. Your major.”

  “Oh. Time.”

  “Time?”

  He nodded.

  “Time’s not a major!”

  “Oh… I don’t really understand majors and minors so I didn’t declare one yet. I’m wanting to learn about time. Do you know what major that’d be?”

  “Time? You mean… Time management? Saving time? Or…” she looked puzzled.

  “Um, no. I mean, stopping time or speeding it up, maybe reversing it.”

  Arya blinked at him a couple of times. “I think that’s physics. But, I’m pretty sure nobody can change the flow of time.”

  Kaem shrugged, “I think it’s possible. I’ve been working on my own theory.”

  “Your own theory?! How’d you decide you could come up with your own theory?”

  “I’ve read and studied everything I can find on the Internet. Khan Academy, Wikipedia, Google. Wolfram Alpha. Physics.org”

  Her eyes narrowed slightly. “I don’t think you can just assemble random crap off the Internet and come up with a viable theory.”

  Kaem didn’t know how to respond to that, so, instead, he asked, “What’re you majoring in?”

  “Business,” she gave him a sly grin. “It’s in my blood.”

  “In your blood?”

  “Um, yeah. My family’s always been in some kind of business. Way back into India, hundreds of years ago.”

  “Ah,” Kaem said as if he understood, though he really didn’t. He was glad his curiosity about her heritage had been satisfied though. “And… you want to be a businesswoman?”

  “I’m going to be a businesswoman.” She arched an eyebrow, “A hell of a businesswoman. I’m gonna be so rich my people wouldn’t even let a physics major like you talk to me.”

  “All you need’s a little self-confidence,” Kaem said, grinning.

  “Yeah, yeah. You’re going to major in physics, then pound your head on the wall, trying to come up with crazy theories about time. This won’t accomplish anything except to maybe get you on the podium of some conference so you and other nerds can pat each other on the back. You’ll eventually wind up teaching physics at some university. Pounding numbers into the heads of poor young boys like yourself. Naive idiots who think they’re going to discover something important but never will.”

  “Wow, you’re a pessimistic bummer.”

  She gave him a dismissive wave, “Optimism’s for those who want to have their hearts broken on a regular basis. Pessimism’s for realists. When things actually go well, pessimists are over-the-top happy.” She stood up. “I’ve gotta eat. If you’re hungry I can show you a good place for a burger.”

  Kaem stood as well. “I’m hungry, but dirt poor. Is the place expensive?”

  “It’s on the food plan,” she replied.

  “Food plan?”

  “Didn’t you read anything in your scholarship packet?”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t really understand a lot of it. No one in my family’s ever been to college,” he shrugged, “so, there hasn’t been anyone to tell me how things work. I… I really appreciate your help.”

  “Don’t worry about it. An older student helped me when I started here. You’ll be expected to help a new student next year. So, your scholarship includes a food plan. You can eat free at certain places. Come on, I’ll explain things as we walk.”

  ~~~

  Sitting in Bilko’s Burgers, Arya studied her new protégé. He had medium-dark skin, curly hair and looked… sick. She’d had to slow her pace on the walk to Bilko’s. He seemed older than a college freshman should be. Never afraid to ask questions, Arya said, “Tell me about your family. Where do they live, what do they do, where’d they come from?”

  “Um…” he said, looking as if uncomfortable to be quizzed on personal topics. “I’m from a small town in West Virginia. One so small I’m sure you’ve never heard of it.”

  He seemed about to go on, so she interrupted, “Maybe I’ve never heard of it, but as soon as you tell me its name, I will have.”

  “Valen,” he said, then grimaced as if ashamed. “Famous for its meth… And not for much else.”

  “You’re right, I’ve never heard of Valen,” she said, wondering whether he looked sick because he was a meth addict. But, it’d be extremely surprising if he’d made the kind of grades and test scores needed to get a Curtis scholarship while he was hooked on meth. “What about your family?”

  “My mom and dad moved here from Italy, hoping to find better jobs and less discrimination.”

  “And?”

  “Their dreams haven’t been realized.”

  “So what do they do?”

  “My mom runs a laundromat and my dad does… odd jobs.”

  She studied him, wondering how to ask her next question, then decided to just bull ahead. “You look older than most college freshmen.”

  He shrugged, “Yeah.”

  “Yeah, you look older? Or yeah, you are older?”

  “Yeah, I’m older. I didn’t think I could afford to go to college so I didn’t apply. But I did start taking courses through the Khan Academy,” he shrugged, “because I like math and really like knowing how things work. After I’d finished a bunch of their courses Mr. Curtis called me and offered me a scholarship.”

  “Didn’t think you could go to college because your grades were bad?”

  “They were okay, ’cause, you know, high school’s easy. But we didn’t have any money and I didn’t do any of the extracurriculars you need to get an all-expenses scholarship.”

  “Not even any sports?”

  He shook his head.

  “You look… like you’re not in such good health. Is that why you didn’t play sports?”

  “You’re getting’ pretty personal.”

  “You don’t have to answer, but if I understand what’s going on, maybe I can give you better advice.”

  He shrugged, “I’ve got sickle-thalassemia.”

  Arya blinked, “What the hell’s that?”

  “I got a gene for sickle cell anemia from my African dad and a gene for beta-thalassemia from my Italian mom. Both diseases make you anemic and sickle cell gives you crises to boot.”

  “I heard they’ve got gene therapy for sickle cell?”

  Kaem shrugged again, “They do. One’s approved and there’s a couple of trials for new ones. I applied to be in one because we’re so poor we could never afford to pay for gene treatment. But, they’re only trialing it in people with pure sickle cell right now. Thalassemia has some trials too, but again, only trialing in people with pure thalassemia so far.”

  “Oh… That’s shitty.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Tell me.”

  “So, this sickle-thalassemia. It keeps you from playing sports because…”

  “I’m so anemic that I don’t have the energy to do much. It’s bad enough I have to get transfusions every so often. Even better, if I do exert myself and use up enough oxygen my red blood cells start to sickle. The sickled cells plug off blood vessels and give me a ‘sickle crisis,’ where some part of me’s cut off from its blood supply and starts dying for lack of oxygen. That hurts like hell. Even better, if one of them happens in my brain it’s like a stroke. I could find out what stupid’s like.” He took a deep breath and blew it out, “So I live slow and easy. I just appease big guys; I don’t try to punch them out.” He gave her an arched eyebrow look, “Thanks
again for defending my honor.”

  She gave him a weak grin. “No problem. Any time.”

  “I’ll just put you on speed dial for when those oversized assholes decide to take their revenge.”

  “Oh,” Arya said, feeling chagrined. “I didn’t think that through.”

  He gave her a grin that seemed a little forced, “Don’t worry about it. If you can’t get there in time to save me, I’ll just apologize abjectly. If they beat on me anyway, I’ll just curl up in a little ball and hope they get tired of bruising their toes.”

  “Well,” she said, doing her best to sound brightly cheerful, “once you invent your time machine, I’ll build a business around it. We’ll get rich enough you can afford to buy your gene therapy, hire bodyguards and start taking karate yourself.”

  He lifted an eyebrow, “But you don’t think there’s the faintest chance I can affect the flow of time.”

  “You’d better prove me wrong!”

  Chapter Three

  Kaem Seba’s sophomore year

  Kaem climbed the stairs to Curtis’s mansion, breathing hard with the exertion. I hope my anemia’s not worse already, he thought.

  It was the annual function for the recipients of Curtis’s scholarship, and Kaem was feeling underdressed again. He had on a black turtleneck and black slacks he’d bought at a thrift shop. They were in pretty good condition and he thought he looked okay, but everyone else had on a suit.

  Just like last year.

  This year Kaem had hoped to find a suit at the thrift shop, but no such luck. Curtis is going to think I’m such a wastrel. Unable to save enough money out of his generous allowance to buy a suit like everyone else has.

  After all, none of the recipients of Curtis’s scholarships were wealthy, but the scholarship provided a fairly generous living allowance. You should be able to save some money out of it, and Kaem did, but with his dad finding little work, his family was having a difficult time getting by on what his mother made at the laundromat. Bana called Kaem all the time, telling him how bad things were and urging him to send everything he could. Usually, she also made another plea that they swap phones. She found it impossible to believe Kaem actually used the phone for his studies.

  So, he sent every penny he could spare to his mother’s account. And he couldn’t even afford a secondhand suit. Well, he could’ve, if there’d been one that fit. They were all too big. What he couldn’t afford was a secondhand suit and the cost of extensive alterations.

  Therefore, a tired black turtleneck and slacks.

  Kaem looked around for someone he knew besides Mr. Curtis. Curtis made him nervous since the man held the keys to Kaem’s life. Kaem had been disappointed to find he didn’t like Curtis, though he tried to hide his distaste from the man himself. Kaem found Curtis… smarmy. The guy never missed an opportunity to talk about how smart he was, mention his self-made wealth, point out the features of his mansion or the beauty of his young second wife.

  The fact that he gave scholarships to deserving poor kids was redeeming, and Kaem respected him.

  He just didn’t like him.

  Kaem saw Arya Vaii and started drifting her way. He’d developed quite a crush on her since she’d welcomed him to the university. She was pretty and smart and she’d beat up that big guy who was pushing him around. Those were big selling points. He seemed unable to socialize with her though. He kept finding himself teasing her or otherwise giving her grief.

  She was probably a year or two younger than he was, but she was a year ahead of him in school, much better looking, much healthier and more physically fit, really smart… It’s just crazy that I keep pining after her, he thought, there’s no way she’s ever going to go for someone like me. Besides, her parents immigrated from India and they’re probably planning to arrange her marriage. A marriage to someone of the same or better class. Not to a mixed-race mongrel whose parents are broke and doesn’t even own a suit. He stopped drifting that direction and stopped to study one of Curtis’s paintings.

  Not that he really saw much of the painting, it was just a safe direction to point his eyes.

  Arya’s voice came over his shoulder, “Hey, I thought you were coming over to talk to me?”

  Kaem turned and forced a smile. “I was considering it, but then I realized a high and mighty junior like yourself wouldn’t have time for a measly sophomore like me.” She even smells good! Why can’t I just say something nice, like, “That’s a pretty dress?”

  She nudged him with an elbow, “I happen to like measly sophomores, though I’m not sure about you. It’s good to see you made it out of your freshman year, I had serious doubts. How’re your classes this year?”

  “They’re okay,” he said thoughtfully, “though not as helpful as I’d hoped.”

  “Helpful? With what?”

  “With my…” he suddenly realized she probably didn’t remember much about their talks back during his freshman year, “my theory,” he finished weakly.

  “Oh yeah,” she said, as if surprised to remember, “you have a theory about time, right? Did you decide to major in physics?”

  He nodded, not sure whether he felt hurt that she didn’t remember more, or ecstatic that she remembered him at all. “But the classes I’ve taken so far haven’t delved much into time.”

  “So, you’re doing okay?” She made a face, “Physics is supposed to be hard.”

  “I guess it is for a lot of people,” he said. “Quite a few kids have dropped out.” He shrugged, “But I like it, so I’m happy studying.”

  She raised an eyebrow, “Even the parts that don’t have anything to do with,” she lowered her voice to make it sound ominous, “time?”

  Kaem grinned and leaned closer, as if divulging a secret, “Even those.” He leaned back and, remembering what his mother had taught him about social skills, asked, “How’re your business classes coming?”

  “They’re fine,” she said dismissively. “The exciting thing is that I started my own little business.”

  “Awesome!” Kaem said. Not just because he knew it was polite, but because he really felt happy for her. “What kind of business is it?”

  “I came across a little book about local haunted houses. So, I worked up a little walking tour that visits some of them. Then I worked up a bigger tour to visit even more houses in a rental van. I dress up in an old-style costume and tell the stories. It’s been busy enough that I’ve hired some other students to guide some of the tours.”

  “Really? Do you believe in ghosts?”

  “No!” She rubbed her fingers together, “I believe in money.”

  “It’s hard for me to believe this town has that many tourists.”

  “Ah. You’re forgetting how many parents come to town to visit their kids. They want something to do while they’re here, so they’re happy to take a tour even if it isn’t any good.” She arched an eyebrow, “And my tour is excellent.” She shrugged, “They pretty much only come when school’s in session, which just so happens to coincide with when I can hire students to guide them.”

  “Ms. Moneybags!” Kaem said admiringly.

  “Ms. Moneybags?” Kaem heard Curtis say from behind him.

  “Um, yes,” Kaem said turning to face the man. “Ms. Vaii was just telling me how she’s started a small business on the side.”

  “Very good!” Curtis exclaimed. Then he launched into the story of the student business he’d launched and how it made a million dollars his senior year. When he’d finished massaging his ego, he turned to Kaem, “A little birdie tells me you’re pulling down excellent grades in physics?”

  “Um, I’m doing okay…”

  Curtis turned to Arya, “‘Okay,’ in this case means he’s getting absolutely the highest scores on every test in every class.”

  Horribly embarrassed, Kaem flicked a glance at Arya hoping she wouldn’t be too put off. “Not really…”

  Curtis said, “Not that it’s any great surprise after the way he broke the charts on Khan Acad
emy courses and on the SAT. I mean, I got great scores, but Mr. Seba’s done even better.” He slapped Kaem on the back. “Good work. When you’re done you’ll have a job with my company even though we don’t do physics.” He laughed, “Though I’m sure you’ll have plenty of job offers that will use your skills.” He turned and walked away.

  Kaem ventured another glance at Arya who was staring at him wide-eyed. He mumbled, “It’s not really like he says…”

  “It’s not? What did you score on the SAT?”

  “I just had a good day.”

  “Really? How good?”

  “1600,” he said softly. Seeing Arya’s eyes widen further, he hastened to say, “It’s nothing, really. I’m just good at tests. Besides, I’m not very good at reading and writing. I don’t have any idea how I got an 800 on that section. Must have been really lucky that day.”

  “Well,” she said, consideringly, “I just wish I was that good at business.” She stared at him for a moment, then said, “If you’re that smart, I definitely want a piece of the action on your theory. When you’re ready to build your time machine, let me know and I’ll help finance it with the money from my business. Then we’ll get you your gene therapy, right?”

  She turned and walked gracefully away, leaving Kaem floundered. She remembered! he thought. Suddenly, he hurried after her, “Wait. I do have a design already, but not nearly enough money to build a working model…”

  She studied him for a moment, “And you think I should invest the profits of my business?”

  “Well… you’d have to be crazy I guess.”

  Her laugh was beautiful. She waved at some chairs. “Let’s sit over here so you can tell me about it.”

  Chapter Four

  In Kaem Seba’s junior year again

  It was cool and rainy that morning. Gunnar had to start the heater when he went out to work in his shop. He’d been out there about five minutes when he heard a faint “poof” sound behind him. Puzzled, he turned around. It took a few seconds before he realized that the mirrored object filling the chamber in Kaem Seba’s little box had disappeared. The watch was lying in the chamber as if it’d never been buried in a stasis field.