by Trevor Hoyle
‘He looks exactly like one of the babies,’ she said wonderingly, her tone perplexed. ‘The kids in the hospital – don’t you think so?’ she appealed to her father.
‘I wouldn’t have said so,’ Cal Renfield replied pragmatically.
Frank stood at the side of the bench, gazing calmly down on Dr Leach; he could almost feel the tension in the small strongly-built body, the nervous and emotional energy surging through him like electricity. Had his brain, as those of the four scientists, also been affected by radiation? Was there a tiny malevolent tumour slowly unfolding behind those wild staring eyes, infiltrating the healthy brain cells and replacing them with the poison of madness, the ultimate finality of death?
He said quietly, ‘Why did you want to go underground, Karl? Were you trying to help Professor Friedmann?’
Dr Leach blinked twice, very slowly, like somebody who has just awakened in a strange room and can’t remember how he came to be there. It crossed Frank’s mind that perhaps he had lost the power of speech, that he had been struck dumb, and he was therefore surprised by the sane, reasonable tone of Leach’s voice as if he were carrying on a normal conversation that had been momentarily interrupted.
‘It was Edmund who first had the idea, I admit that. He told me and I didn’t believe him. Would you have believed him? Would anybody? He had to prove it to me – I insisted on that – and he did prove it. The count was high, we expected that. It only confirmed what we already knew. But I will admit, I am perfectly willing to admit, that it was Edmund who first had the idea. And he proved it.’
He smiled quite gently, almost dreamily, as if at a fond recollection.
‘Was it the count that proved it to you?’ Frank asked in the same conversational tone.
‘No, no…’ Leach shook his head, experiencing difficulty due to the tightness of the leather straps binding his arms and chest. There was a stubble of beard on his jaw through which gleamed a faint sheen of perspiration. ‘I told you, weren’t you listening? We already knew – Edmund knew and he proved it to me. The count merely confirmed it. A rate of 3 × 104 – it was very exciting when the printout confirmed it. We had a little celebration, Edmund and I, because then we knew we were right.’
‘Right about the antineutrinos,’ Frank said.
‘No,’ said Karl Leach snappily, in the manner of someone being wilfully misunderstood. ‘The increased rate of antineutrinos only served to prove that we had been right all along. That Edmund’s theory was validated.’
‘So the count finally confirmed it; but how did Edmund prove it to you in the first place? What did he say to convince you?’
‘He proved it to me. I’ve already said that. He proved it to me.’
‘Yes, but how?’
Leach stared blankly past Frank’s head, his eyes fixed on the ceiling; they became glazed and lost; was he entering into a coma or simply trying to remember?
‘How did he prove his theory?’ Frank persisted softly. ‘His theory of—?’
‘His theory about the Earth.’ Leach came back to himself. ‘His theory about the Earth five billion years ago.’
Frank breathed slowly and carefully. ‘Before it was formed.’
‘His theory about the plasma in space. The plasma drifted in space, it was conscious, possessed intelligence, had the power of logical thought.’
‘And the plasma became the Earth. The plasma that was conscious coalesced to form the Earth – is that what Edmund believed?’
‘For ten billion years, since the instant of Creation, the plasma had evolved, drifting in space, seeking form and identity. Edmund knew that. He knew that one day it would find form and identity and become the Sun and the planets. He was proved right, it came to pass, the Sun and the planets were formed. We are the living proof that Edmund was right.’
Karl Leach had begun to tense against the straps, his fists clenching and opening, clenching again. His dark eyes were fierce, staring into space, lost in mysterious visions.
‘Edmund was proved right,’ Frank prompted him. He wanted Leach to continue his line of thought, yet he seemed to be drifting away, inhabiting another plane of existence.
‘Yes,’ said Leach in a curious drone.
‘The Sun and the planets were formed from the plasma which had drifted in space since the beginning of Creation. Edmund believed that and he proved it to you—’
‘But the Earth had waited. It had waited five billion years to be awakened. It had lain dormant, sleeping, awaiting the signal. That was when we knew that the Earth was ready to awaken. Its consciousness was to be awakened for the first time in five billion years.’
Frank waited a moment, studying the malformed human being who was twisting and turning against the straps. The sweat from his chest and armpits had spread like a dark stain across the front of his shirt.
‘The signal,’ Frank said quietly. ‘The signal came to the Earth in the form of antineutrinos.’
‘The rate was 3 × 104,’ said Karl Leach with great satisfaction. ‘We knew it would come. It was only a matter of time. Edmund had said it would come in our lifetime.’ He sounded exultant.
‘And then you knew he was right.’
‘The signal came. It came in our lifetime.’
‘Edmund was proved right.’
‘Yes,’ said Leach, hissing it.
‘Why has he gone below?’ Frank asked casually, slipping the question in as if it were only of minor interest.
‘To prepare the way,’ Leach said, the obvious answer to a naive question.
‘Yes, of course,’ Frank said. ‘To prepare the way.’ He glanced sideways at the others, who had become immobile; the medical orderly had retreated even farther, standing behind Lee Merriam in an attempt to put as much muscle and brawn as possible between him and the sweating staring man on the couch.
Helen was about to speak and Frank cautioned her to remain silent. He said in a gentle, agreeable tone, ‘Does Edmund need your help, Karl? Or can he prepare the way alone?’
‘Edmund is the leader. He will make the path straight. The signal will come, bringing the Message from the centre of the Galaxy. Edmund awaits the Message and then everything will be made known: he has prepared the way: everything is ready.’
‘And what is the message? Does Edmund know? Do you know?’
‘When it comes all will be made known. The Earth will awaken, it will become conscious and sentient once more. It has slept in silence for five billion years and now the way has been prepared. The signal comes, the Message is received, the Earth will awaken …’
His eyes became sightless, gazing beyond the confines of the room with a dull fixedness as if witnessing cosmic events out there in the depths of space. He had ceased to live in the real world: his surroundings were no more than vague shadows, the people insubstantial phantoms flitting on the edge of his conscious awareness. Reality for Dr Karl Leach comprised the stream of antineutrinos flooding in from the galactic centre at the speed of light. With them they brought information which would trigger the awakening of the planet. It was all there, taking place in front of his eyes, his head filled with wondrous visions of the Earth regaining consciousness after five billion years.
Frank realized that Leach was reaching a stage when he would either lapse into a coma or become totally incoherent, losing altogether the facility to communicate. The vital question was did he know how to get through into the detection chamber? Was there some way to get past the black rock and reach Professor Friedmann before he was able to carry out the preparation for … what? How was he to ‘make the path straight’, as Leach called it? Did it involve the detection tanks – or was it more a mental preparation, a kind of metaphysical rite that Professor Friedmann had to perform?
Frank had to repeat Leach’s name several times before his eyes hardened into focus. The thick black hair was wet at the roots, strands of it clinging to his neck and forehead.
‘We want to help Edmund,’ Frank said in a soft urgent whisper. ‘We want to h
elp him prepare the way. Listen, Karl, how do we help him? You must tell us how to reach him.’
‘No longer possible. The mountain will not allow it. The Earth has sealed up its secret places. Too late.’
Again a phrase that was reminiscent of Cabel’s preaching: the belief in the mountain as a living organism, a conscious terrestrial force that had the inherent dynamism to alter its geophysical structure.
‘There must be a way through, Karl.’
‘No way possible. The chamber is sealed. Edmund must prepare the way. The mountain will protect him.’
‘How must he prepare? What has he to do?’
Leach smiled glassily, a sly child harbouring a secret.
‘Is it something to do with the tanks? Does he need to change the chemical balance to speed up the rate of interaction?’
Karl Leach continued to smile. His face was an empty smiling mask concealing a hundred thousand million brain cells engaged in civil war. If the signal came and the Message was received and the Earth awakened it was unlikely he would ever know about it.
TWO
They were standing in the compound looking towards the bright orange fretwork above the mine-head which supported the winding gear. Lee Merriam said, ‘Do you believe me now? Didn’t I tell you that Dr Leach is off his rocker?’
‘Maybe less than we suppose,’ Frank said.
‘Come on now,’ Lee Merriam protested. ‘All this stuff about the Earth coming alive – you can’t seriously believe that a signal from outer space is going to awaken it after five billion years.’
‘Professor Friedmann obviously believes it to be true.’
‘And do you?’ Helen said.
‘I don’t know. It’s a fact that the Earth is being bombarded by a vastly increased flood of antineutrinos from the galactic centre. The latest theory suggests that these are interacting with other particles and producing large amounts of radiation. In that sense the mountain is coming alive. The thing I can’t understand is what Professor Friedmann has to do to prepare the way – why is he down there at all, sealed in the detection chamber?’
‘You mean being protected by the mountain, don’t you?’ Helen said, raising her eyebrows sardonically.
‘We shouldn’t just dismiss what we can’t understand,’ Frank told her. ‘I agree that Leach’s story sounds incredible but you have to admit that it answers a lot of the questions about what’s been happening in this area lately. How else can you explain the freak weather conditions, the earth tremors, the strange way people have been behaving?’
‘And the babies,’ Helen said. ‘Don’t forget them.’
‘I hadn’t forgotten,’ Frank said. ‘If you want to know, that’s the one thing that bothers me most of all. Because if it’s happening here in Gypsum it’s likely to be happening elsewhere at the same time.’
‘You mean elsewhere in the States?’ Cal Renfield said.
‘And throughout the world. Wherever the geophysical strata are similar to what we have here in the mountain – tellurous ore – then it’s possible that the same phenomena are taking place.’
Lee Merriam said bluntly, ‘What concerns me is the here and now.’ He looked searchingly at Frank. ‘If there’s no way past the black rock we’ll have to try and reach him via the upper level, and you’re the only one who knows how to get through.’
‘That’s what I like about you, Lee. You’re so subtle.’
‘Are you prepared to make the attempt?’
‘Do I have a choice?’
Cal Renfield said, ‘Listen, I don’t understand any of this scientific stuff about particles and interactions; what I’d like to know is what damage can Friedmann do down there? If the guy really is nutty could he do something to the equipment in the detection chamber, maybe cause an explosion?’ His soft round features were moulded into an expression that was both inquiring and concerned.
Frank shook his head, an admission that he wasn’t sure. He said, ‘There’s radiation equipment down there for detecting the presence of argon-37. Ordinarily there’s no danger because it’s shielded, and in any case the amount of radiation is quite small. But if the particle interactions have been building up in the tanks and the radiation level is high…’
‘Then what could Friedmann do?’ Cal Renfield asked.
‘Basically, one of two things. He could either allow the radiation level to escalate to a point where it became unstable – and then you would indeed get an explosion. Or he could release it.’
‘You mean let the radiation leak out?’
‘That’s right. Possibly it wouldn’t do much damage because it’s a mile underground – it would be dissipated through the tunnels. Anybody down there, of course, wouldn’t stand much of a chance.’
‘Including Friedmann?’ Cal Renfield said.
Frank nodded.
‘And anybody who went down to get him out of there,’ Helen said, not looking at anyone. She gazed towards the winding gear in its steel framework.
Lee Merriam glanced at his watch. He was impatient for action. ‘We can be kitted out and ready to go in ten minutes. If it’s a major fall we’ll need pick-axes and shoring material. Ideally we could use two parties, the first to clear away the rubble, the second to follow on afterwards. The first party could act as a back-up if the main rescue team runs into trouble. Say eight men in two teams of four. I’ll get the first team off right away and they can be making a start on the clearing operation. We’ll give them thirty minutes to make some kind of headway and then follow them down.’
Lee Merriam was happy to be planning and organizing and getting ready to move; this was positive action, not abstract scientific speculation. He couldn’t get a grip on theories, they were too diffuse, too elusive.
While he went to get things started Frank told Cal Renfield and Helen about the cable, explaining in more detail Fred Lockyer’s hypothesis of antineutrino-antitrimuon interactions. They listened blankly, hardly understanding a word, though he took pains to make it as simple and straightforward as possible.
When he had finished, Cal Renfield said incredulously, ‘You mean to say that the Telluric Faith might really be on to something? That Cabel isn’t just spouting a load of religious bullshit?’
‘In an odd way he could be right. Cabel’s beliefs, Professor Friedmann’s research data and Fred Lockyer’s theory all seem to point to the same kind of phenomenon – yet they each approach it in a different way and describe it in their own terms. It isn’t the first time that religion, cosmology and high energy physics have found themselves to be bedfellows. Though pretty uneasy ones, I grant you.’
‘But surely Karl Leach was raving when he talked about the Earth being formed out of – what did he call it? – conscious plasma? The Earth is inanimate, it isn’t alive.’
‘Not in the sense that we understand it,’ Frank agreed. ‘But our knowledge of life-forms in the Universe is limited to those on this planet. It’d be rather arrogant of the human race to claim to be the only type of life-form extant in all of Creation. Maybe there is such a thing as “conscious plasma” which lives in space. We simply don’t know. I doubt whether Fred Lockyer would dismiss the idea out of hand. He’d keep an open mind until he came up with evidence which either proved or denied its existence.’
‘And I thought physics was all to do with rubbing fur on an ebonite rod,’ Helen said, looking as bemused as a child on its first day at school.
‘In your case that has more to do with Freudian symbolism,’ Frank said, grinning. ‘What you choose to do in your leisure time is your own affair.’
She pouted and gave him a smouldering look. ‘You’d better make sure you come back out of that mine, Frank Kersh. We still have an account to settle.’
They watched the first team of four men heading for the cage. Lee Merriam saw them away and then came across the compound. He glanced up at the sky, which was darkening as the late afternoon ebbed into evening. The sky was clear, with just a few wisps of nimbus to the east, and alrea
dy the first faint stars were winking on overhead. It looked as though it was going to be a calm peaceful night.
‘We follow them down in one hour,’ said Lee Merriam crisply. He almost seemed to be enjoying himself. ‘This time I’m coming with you.’
‘That sounds like you don’t trust me.’
‘If there’s a way through into the detection chamber I want to know about it. And I want to be there when we reach Professor Friedmann.’
‘If we reach him,’ Frank said, sounding a note of caution. ‘I told you, Lee, I’m not at all sure I can find my way through like I did last time. It was pretty confusing after the tremor, you know.’
Why didn’t he tell them? Why not come right out with it and say that something had happened in the depths of the Telluride Mine which defied rational explanation and flouted all the rules of normal physical behaviour? Why was he so reluctant to admit to anyone that he had witnessed – had actually been part of – a strange occurrence which had someone recounted it to him he would have scoffed at and probably laughed in their face? Was he too afraid of their scepticism and pitying glances?
The truth was (and he was only just beginning to realize and accept it) that it had shaken the very foundation of his absolute certitude in scientific method and procedure. The experience had been subjective, inexplicable, and utterly mystifying – none of which were satisfactory criteria in the strict scientific sense – and yet he believed in the validity of it, knew without any doubt that it had actually taken place. How was he to reconcile his rational, objective outlook with the emotional and intuitive part of his nature which accepted the experience for no other reason than that it had happened? His normal response would have been to reject it out of hand.
The difference, of course, was that this time it had happened to him.
Helen was in the act of lighting a cigarette when they felt it; the lighter flame hovered an inch from the cigarette and her eyes came up to meet Frank’s.
A deep and distant and unmistakable tremor.
‘That’s all we need,’ said Lee Merriam, almost angrily.
‘Might have been an explosion,’ Cal Renfield suggested.
