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Jennifer fished
around in the refrigerator for another beer.
"Brent? You ready
for another one too?" She
yelled from the kitchen.
"You bet
Babe!" Came the reply from
the other room. Jennifer frowned,
"Don't
call me Babe," she muttered to herself.
She juggled four beers into the other room, the living room of
the old Markel place, Jeff's new home.
Brent was sitting in a worn lavender colored recliner, a veteran
of Jeff's college days. Jeff and
Linda were on the couch next to the wall.
The couch looked out a picture window across the back yard to the
barn, a fairly large barn complete with a hayloft and gable roof.
New floodlights had been installed all around it and lit it up
like daylight.
After they
left Frazier's, Jeff suggested they get a twelve pack and go to his place. His offer was immediately accepted, both to
make sure he had calmed down since the fight, and because his new friends
were very curious about his mysterious hobby.
Jennifer pulled up another chair close to Jeff so she could be
in the conversation. Brent and
Linda were telling Jeff why Pat was the wrong person to pick on.
"You see"
Brent was saying, "Pat is the youngest of six brothers. The other five are older, meaner and a lot
tougher than Pat. He's a whiner
to be sure, but they stick together.
And their father is the meanest SOB I've ever met.
He knifed a man once just for bumping into him in a parking lot. Some folks also think they're the ones responsible
for two murders, but that has never been proved. They found one guy, or I should say a human
skeleton, chained to a tree. The
cops figured he had been tied to that tree for at least five months before
he was found. He had a jacket
and shirt on, but no pants. They
think whoever did it left him there to freeze to death."
"That's
right" Linda said, supporting Brent.
"I've represented one of the Dunuski's three times now. In a town this size there is no public defender's
office, each practicing attorney is required to perform a certain amount
of pro-bono work. That family
always cries poverty when they are arrested, they are always in trouble,
and they always deserve it."
"Why do
people suspect Pat's clan for these crimes?" Jeff asked, surprised that any town would tolerate such vermin.
"Both
victim's had a run-in with the Dunuski's within a few weeks before their
deaths. But no proof was found
and you can't hang a man, even scum like them, on coincidence. All of them have done at least some time for
assault. They like to beat people
up, and I mean they like to hurt 'em bad.
You were damn lucky Pat was with his worthless friends and not
his brothers. And don't even think
about mixing it up with them. They
are some tough sons of bitches.
"Well,
I guess I'll stay out of their way for now" Jeff conceded. "But if they come at me they are liable
to be surprised."
"There
is one other thing to be aware of" Brent said seriously. "This house is pretty far out in the sticks.
You're nearest neighbor must be two miles down the road, not counting
that quarter mile long goat path you laughingly refer to as a driveway.
I wouldn't put it past them to come here some night and attack
you, burn the house and leave you for dead."
At this, Jeff's dog Choko, (pronounced Choe‑ koe) looked
up from his dog bed across the room, sensed nothing and went back to sleep.
"Well,
I'll keep my guard up if you think it's that important. But if they do come sneaking around, they best hope ole Choko is
somewhere far away from here. He'd
tear them up." Jeff took
another swig from his beer. "But
I can't believe it doesn't matter that Pat richly deserved what he got."
"Well
it don’t" Brent insisted. "Look
at it from their point of view. If
they let you get away with standing up to them, before long they'll actually
have to start paying for gas. They
just go fill up now and challenge the attendants to do anything about
it. One of those dead guys was a station owner
who did do something about it. He
cost Sam Dunuski six months at Rockview prison.
A couple of weeks after Sam went up someone ran him down along
the North Warrenton By‑ pass. They
may have to give up the other freebies they've terrorized people into
giving them. No, this won't go unanswered and it won't go
away."
Linda nodded
her head in agreement, but said nothing.
Jeff surmised that Linda would have plenty to say on the matter,
but she would wait until they could discuss it privately.
Jeff looked
at Jennifer and noticed she was studying Choko, who was still lying on
his bed, but his eyes were open and he was watching the humans.
"What
kind of dog is Choko?" Jennifer
asked. Choko responded to his
name, tail about to thump on the floor.
"I don't
believe I've ever seen one quite like him.
He's so big. I thought
at first he was a German Shepard, but now I'm not sure."
"He's
a hybrid," Jeff said. "Mom
was a German Shepard, dad was a Lobo Wolf."
"Wolf?" Linda said nervously, "Is he tame, safe?"
"As long
as you keep him fed." Jeff
laughed. Then he called to the
dog "Choko, Come!" The
big canine instantly jumped up and loped to Jeff, his tail doing a subdued
wag. His fur was an interesting patchwork of gray
and silver and black, an aesthetically pleasing animal. He put his head down into Jeff's lap and Jeff
absently scratched his ears. Linda
noticed his eyes. "My god,
his eyes are yellow."
"Those
are wolf's eyes."
"He's
so big" Jennifer repeated. Choko
was a big dog. He stood well over
two feet at the shoulder and weighed about a hundred and thirty pounds,
and like his master, it was all muscle.
He was a broad and powerful animal.
He was also one of the most even-tempered and intelligent animals
Jeff had ever known. Those two qualities had endeared the dog to
Jeff the most. One they shared,
and one Jeff wished he had been blessed with.
"Is he
trained?" Brent asked.
"Yes,
very trained" Jeff replied. "I
got him as a puppy only six weeks old.
I knew of his wild side, so I trained him very thoroughly. He has a large repertoire of commands, but
not many tricks I'm afraid. I
didn't have the heart to teach such a magnificent animal to play dead
and the like."
Just then they
heard a crash out beside the barn.
"Choko,
Patrol!" Choko leaped away
and headed into the kitchen, a second later they could see him trotting
towards the barn.
"Let’s
go out and see what Choko turns up," Jeff said as he got to his feet
and opened the patio door. Linda,
Brent, and Jennifer followed. 'Any
excuse to get nearer the barn', Brent thought.
Choko started barking, a deep menacing sound, on the far side of
the barn. Jeff ran around the barn, the others right
behind. Choko had cornered the
intruder. A raccoon had tipped
over a trash can. The raccoon
was backed into a corner. Choko
was just out of claw range growling.
The raccoon was snarling and spitting.
Jeff surveyed the situation and decided he had no desire to hurt
the raccoon or get Choko’s nose shredded in the process.
"Choko,
Stand down!" Choko shot a
glance to Jeff as if to say 'are you serious?
I've got the little son of a bitch'.
But Jeff did not respond. The
order stood. Choko backed away from the raccoon giving it
an escape path. The raccoon took
it and ran back into the woods some twenty yards from the barn. Jeff righted the trashcan.
"Can he
fetch beers, like the TV commercial?"
Brent asked wryly. Jeff
gave Linda a mock look of need, "Beer run?" Linda nodded an OK and went back to the house.
Linda was gone
for beer. Jennifer was petting
Choko. Brent decided now was the time to ask.
"So, are
you going to show us your hobby? We
are really curious, just a peak, O.K?"
"Curiosity killed the cat, remember?" Brent looked exasperated. Jeff eyed Brent for a moment, then stepped
forward and put one hand on Brent's shoulder and squeezed. Not hard enough to make him wince in pain,
but hard enough to get his full attention.
"O.K. I'll show you. I don't expect you will understand it, but I do expect you to keep
it as a solemn secret. Promise
me you'll keep it secret and I'll show you."
".I promise"
Brent said surprised by Jeff's sudden vehemence. Linda came back with four more cold ones.
She passed them out, and then said "are we going in the barn
now?" She was clearly expecting
a tour. Jeff decided that his
work was so near fruition that he doubted a couple of locals could substantially
alter what was coming. Even if they blabbed nobody would believe them. Besides, he was enjoying the company and would
enjoy showing off his accomplishments.
"Lets
go see. Linda, attorney client
relationship, right?". Then
as an after thought, he said "Choko patrol, loose!" Choko broke from Jennifer's caress and loped
into the woods.
Jeff went to
the barn door, a double door, extracted a card from his wallet and slid
it into a small device by the door. A
cardkey lock, Brent thought in wonder.
The refinery had a similar system on the tool crib. All computerized, very sophisticated. But on a man's barn? Jeff
punched in the access code and the bolt snapped back in response. Jeff opened the metal door enough to admit
his friends.
Then first
thing Brent noticed was the inside was as brightly lit as the outside. Jeff must have a hell of an electric bill.
The first room they entered looked more like a storage area than
anything else. Boxes were piled everywhere, nearly to the ceiling (only ten feet
up) in some places.
They came to
a second door, another cardkey lock.
Jeff plied his plastic and the second door opened.
There was a long workbench off to the right covered with an inventor's
chaos of half finished techno errata.
Straight ahead, against the back wall, was an enormous LCD TV screen,
easily three feet by six feet, hung on the wall like a painting. A workstation, complete with a second LCD display,
a keyboard and elaborate track ball mouse, was in front of the screen.
Two CRT monitors were located on each side of the workstation,
held in place by a black tubular frame connected to a shelving unit that
held three mid-tower computers on the left hand side.
On the right hand side was a stand-alone console that had its own
display built into it, along with dozens of knobs, switches, and small
LCD displays. Brent stared at
the setup with wonder. This workstation
was much more complex than the one he manned at the refinery to control
the FCC unit. That fact impressed
Brent a great deal. Brent could
only guess at their function. All the screens were blank at the moment, except one of the CRTs
on the right side. It displayed
a series of programming codes that Brent did not understand. To the left side of the display panel was another
door. Jeff approached and said
loudly and clearly,"Computer. Directive
Charlotte." Brent could hear
the delicate hum of light machinery coming to life behind the door. He also saw that the large screen was no longer
blank. It displayed what appeared
to be an aerial view schematic of this property; including a rectangle
labeled BARN, another labeled HOUSE, and several areas marked WOODS. There was a red dot moving across it.
"What's
the dot?" Brent asked, not
believing any of this. You did
not find NASA level control consoles in an old barn, period.
"That's
Choko on patrol", Jeff said. Linda
and Jennifer looked from the giant TV image to Jeff, and then back to
the screen.
Jeff went ahead
and opened the door. "This
room holds the meat of my work", Jeff explained. "The workstation out here is used for programming and control
functions, this area contains the new hardware I have built.
Brent, Linda,
and Jennifer gaped as they beheld his new inventions. Directly in front of them was a metal stand with what appeared to
be a human arm attached to it. There
was no blood and Brent realized that it wasn't a human arm at all but
a mechanical device. The arm suddenly
rose up and gestured as if it
wanted to shake hands with Brent. He
recoiled, the arm waited a few seconds, and then turned its palm up and
splayed out its fingers for a second before returning to a relaxed state. "That's too fucking weird," Brent
growled.
Jennifer approached
the arm, apparently now at rest. The
arm responded in the same way as it had to Brent, extending itself, palm
of the hand open, inviting a handshake.
She looked at it, and then looked to Jeff questioningly."Go
ahead" he said, "it doesn't bite." She tentatively reached out her hand. As she touched the palm of the mechanical arm its fingers wrapped
around her own. She let out a
squeal, but held her ground. The
arm pumped her hand up and down three times, then released her hand and
went back to a neutral position. She
stared in wonder at the arm.
"It's
warm, and soft, like a real hand! You
built this?" He nodded and
added,"It was a prototype for a line of replacement body parts, for
example, if someone was to lose an arm in an accident.. The arm works fairly well. It is comprised of a mass of interconnected
hydraulic cylinders mounted on a plastic rod frame.. The cylinders are digitally controlled through a micro-miniature
valve manifold I invented. It's
warm because the working fluid, its 'blood', also acts to dissipate heat
from the circulating pump."
"Why aren't
you selling these things?" Jennifer
said excitedly. "It's great,
I'd swear it's real." Linda went up close to the arm for a look, and got to shake its
hand as well. Jeff looked down
a moment then said sheepishly,
"Well,
it still has sort of a glitch, what good is an artificial limb that you
have to keep plugged into the wall?"
The girls just stared blankly at him, not understanding what he
meant.
"It's
too power hungry. I can't pack
enough batteries in it to keep it moving ten minutes." "That
must be what you're up to here", Linda said triumphantly. "You're trying to solve that problem. Right?"
"Wrong",
said Jeff. "Actually, Artemis
here was a rebellion against the greater work that fills this barn. He was my attempt to stop working on what I
simply had to pick up again and finish."
"Artemis?" Linda
asked, a smile breaking on her face.
"I have
a bad habit of naming things I've put a lot of work into. Besides I thought "Artemis" fit, hell, I almost named
it 'Armetus', but decided that was too punny." Jennifer groaned at that one. Brent
cracked a smile.
"But"
Jennifer continued, "if Artemis is not 'that greater work', then
what are you doing?"
Jeff's expression
slowly went blank, his tone became muted, grave, "It could be a power
supply for the arm, but that would be the least of its uses and hardly
worth the effort. In here are
some truly revolutionary machines that I built before I moved here. They are why I moved here. To get them away from my Board of Directors
and the constant irritation of people meddling in what they did not understand.
To find the simple freedom of doing it the way it needs to be done
without each little step turning into a major struggle."
Jeff's voice
grew angry and hurt. He realized
he had gone too far. "Sorry",
he said, turning away from the girls.
He took a few steps and a few deep breaths, when he turned back
around he was normal again. Linda
walked to Jeff and put her hand on his arm.
"It's O.K. You're among friends." Then more lightly,
"so where
is the new stuff, is that it over there?"
She pointed over Brent's shoulder to several piles covered with
green tarps. Brent also looked
to where she pointed.
Beyond the
all too real arm, Brent saw several roughly cylindrical objects under
tarpaulins. They were about six feet in diameter and ten
feet long. They were butted up
against one wall in a row about two feet apart.
The cylinder on the end had its tarp removed and the cylinder was
split in two; the bottom half was full of equipment; the top half leaned
against the nearby wall. Two industrial
mechanical arms stood silently beside the opened cylinder, their work
for the day complete.
Those must
be the two robots Jen's brother mentioned, thought Brent. The cylinders themselves looked uninteresting. They were aluminum skinned (at least that's
what it looked like to Brent), and were
cylindrical and devoid of any surface feature at all, except they
had an octagonal cross-section instead of a circular one. Except for the one that was split open, they could be water storage
tanks for all Brent could tell.
Brent motioned
to the opened cylinder, "What are those, what are they doing?"
"They're
working on probe Three." That
was no help at all.
"Yes but
what are they?" Brent insisted. Jeff's eyes narrowed.
"They
are Mitsubishi model 1200 assembly robots.
What do they look like?"
"I mean
the thing they are working on, Probe three?"
Brent said, becoming annoyed.
Jeff hesitated then pointed to the back of the room.
"They're
not nearly as interesting as what is over there." He herded his friends away from the cylindrical objects.
As they passed
the center of the room, Brent noticed a structure that he did not understand. There was nothing sinister about it, but Brent would be damned if he could figure
out what it was for. It had four
concrete pylons coming out of the floor at an angle and facing each other,
so that if the pylons were extended they would meet and form a pyramid.
Each pylon had a large metal screw eye in the
center of its top, flat face. Each
screw eye had a half-inch steel cable attached to it. Each cable was attached to a heavy steel cage made of bar stock
that measured about two feet on an edge.
The pylons were set in a square about seven feet on an edge. The cables also had little devices wired into
them. "Strain gauges"
Jeff volunteered.
"What's
it for?" Brent asked.
"Engine
tests", Jeff answered.
Past the pylon
structure was the object Jeff had pointed at.
It was also covered with a tarp.
It was much larger than the cylindrical objects he had seen earlier.
It was about twenty-five feet long and ten feet or so in diameter.
It was wider near the bottom than the top.
Brent stood there gazing up at it.
He also noticed the ceiling was much higher here, going the entire
distance to the roof. It looked
to Brent as if the roof had been made into a giant door. Two sets of what appeared to be freight doors, like most commercial
shipping docks used, were set facing each other so that if they were both
opened there would be a thirty foot by fifteen foot hole in the roof. Brent made a mental note to check out the roof
on the far side of the barn sometime during daylight.
"Would
you like to see what's under there?"
Jeff asked in a very quiet tone.
Brent looked at him,
"You call
this a hobby?"
"It keeps
me off the streets", Jeff agreed.
"What
the hell, I don't believe what I've already seen.
Let's have a look."
Jeff had Brent
help him peel the tarp off the object.
Near the top forward part of the object was a cockpit, containing
two seats side by side and a mass of controls and wiring not yet finished. The bulk of the object was hollow. Brent could see what looked like split bomb
bay doors underneath. Behind the
cockpit was a large container like area that was still empty. The object had a rounded nose and tail and
also looked like it was made of aluminum sheet. Near the front of the object, painted in bright red script letters,
were the words 'DAWN TREADER'. Brent
studied the thing for a moment.
"All right,
I give. What in the hell is it?"
"It's
my spaceship", Jeff said proudly.
"Say what?" Brent
said, his eyes becoming wide.
"Oh my
God", Linda whispered. Jennifer
was silent. "Say what?" Brent repeated. "You did say spaceship didn't you?" "Yes", Jeff answered. "It's my hobby."
* * *
Jeff rolled
over lazily in bed. He watched
the sleeping form of Linda next to him.
Dawn light was creeping through the window over his right shoulder. He had a mild headache. He tried to remember just how much he had shot
his mouth off last night. He had
told himself when he moved here he would keep his mouth shut, not tell
anyone what he was up to. "Right,
good show, Ace", he muttered softly to himself. He thought about the animated, manic conversation they all had last
night, trying to remember how much he had told them. "Thank God I did not tell them how it
works", he muttered again. He
remembered talking about ending droughts, famines, and wars. He talked of space travel. He talked of the visceral need for man to get
off this rock and colonize the stars.
He winced as he recalled Jennifer's reaction to that comment: "A rock? You're calling the Earth a rock?
But it's our home, our energy, and our spiritual wellspring. It's our mother!"
Wow. How do you respond to something like that?
"Hey I love the Earth too, but it's a rock, a nice rock I
grant you, but just a rock. It's an iron ball spinning through the void.
In and of itself, it has as much spiritual energy as a box of tomatoes."
He knew better than to say things like that. He had lived in San Diego, practically the capital city of New Age
metaphysical nonsense. But his
experiences there had taught him that there was precious little point
in arguing with people who believed it.
Besides, the time was coming when he would rely on massive popular
opinion for his very survival. He
knew it was counter-productive to engage in meaningless diatribes. 'So much for theory' he thought weakly.
The
truth was he was lonely, nearly three months in this town, not meeting
anyone because he was constantly working in the barn.
He needed somebody to talk to, and have fun.
He wanted to share his life with someone. He was a loner by circumstance, not by choice. Next to him, Linda sighed in her sleep and
instinctively moved her bottom against his thigh.
He looked at
her and thought that things could be worse.
He decided it was time for Linda's wake up call, and pressed himself
into her, massaging her tummy. Linda
came from sleep and turned towards him still groggy, but smiling. He smiled back at her.
"Good
morning angel" He said as he caressed her.
She kissed him and started undulating her hips into him in acceptance
of his advance. He kissed her. He looked at her as he loved her. She had beautiful eyes. He thought a man could get lost in those eyes,
he felt he was starting to lose his way.
His climax
was building, Linda was clutching his butt and pulling him into her in
ever more frantic strides. His
body shuddered and became still on top of her.
He was exhausted. He cradled
her in his arms, not wanting the intimacy to end.
"Go to
sleep, Spaceman", she whispered as she closed her eyes. She began breathing deep and relaxed breaths. He felt the soft rhythm of her and sleep overcame
him.
* * *
He was wearing
a white surgical gown, but no mask. Next
to him were two colleagues and a third man in an army uniform. They were talking but he could not hear them.
He fingered the small device in his left hand, then looked at it.
It was the size of a cigarette pack.
It was gray, with one red button on the center of one side and
a small light in the top. He studied
the button a moment then pushed it. A
green glow sprang from the top of the device and spread in a perfect sphere
with the light at the center. It
was not a solid thing; the green light was vanishingly thin
and neither grew nor diminished in intensity as the radius of the
sphere increased. Nor did it make
any sound.
The sphere
of green stopped growing when it was about three feet in diameter. It
shimmered as a spider web might if covered with dew and bathed in a soft
green light. He looked down and saw the edge of the sphere
intersect his body at about his waist.
It did not hurt; there was no sensation at all.
"That
won't do at all," he said to himself, as he found a thumb wheel , like you find on a cheap radio. He turned the wheel. The green sphere leaped up in size and filled
the room.
"Oops,
too much." He backed off
the wheel and the sphere shrank. He
twiddled it a few more times until the sphere was just large enough to
contain him. Now he felt safe; his shield was up.
The colleagues
and the army man looked at him impatiently and then walked away. He followed. He pressed the button at the center of the little box again and
the green, misty shell of light collapsed back into the light on top. They entered a room. His two colleagues stood separately from him
and waited. The army man came
in carrying something in his hand. He
walked over to a little stainless steel table and plocked down a chunk
of blue-green metal in the form of a disk, a hockey puck. The army man looked at him and said,
"This
is pure plutonium. If you're still
alive in five minutes we will be interested in your shield." The army man turned and left the room.
He hit the
button again, this time with a sense of panic.
The mist shield obediently returned and covered him. He turned to his colleagues and said, "you
must be within it, or you are exposed." They looked at him pitilessly. "You really are quite mad you know."
"Please", he said, "get in here with me, where it's
safe." They ignored him and kept talking.
The female,
a raven-haired girl, suddenly glanced at him, concerned. Then she looked at her left leg, he followed
her gaze. As he looked at her
thigh, the skin on it split open and the muscles and flesh slid off her
thighbone like overdone chicken meat.
The bone hung from her hip socket a moment then simply fell off. She reached for her companion.
"Elliot,
I don't understand", she seized his arm, but his arm shredded in
her grasp.
They stood
there a moment contemplating his flesh denuded arm.
With scientific curiosity, he raised it and flexed his elbow as
if he had never seen naked joints work.
The joint popped and the skeleton forearm, his forearm, also fell
off. They were naked now. He looked down and saw that he was still in
his white lab coat. Both their
bellies swelled and burst and their viscera spilled and slopped noisily
to the floor. She reached a hand
to her face and absently ripped off her cheeks and jawbone, looked at
them a moment then tried to put them back, but they wouldn't stick.
The other one
started explaining how all of this was quite reasonable with high radiation
levels but his discourse was cut short when his jaw, and nearly his whole
face, slid off his skull and plopped with a sloppy thud to the floor.. She collapsed. The other looked at him a moment, a look of surprise in his still
intact eyes. He fell also. He looked down at what was left of his colleagues
and said,
"I told
you to get in the shield, but you just wouldn't listen would you?" He walked to the door and pounded loudly,
"Let me
out, let me out."
A voice on
the other side said, "sorry, test in progress. You'll have to wait."
"Let me
out, let me out..."
Jeff woke with
a start. God, he thought, another
one of those psycho dreams. This
one had been more disgusting than usual.
Cold sweat ran down his chest; he looked at it, annoyed..
This dream of unknown colleagues dissolving in a radioactive storm
hadn't really scared him, but it did bother him that lately his dreams
seemed to be getting gorier. There
was something else, what was it? "Linda!"
He whipped around suddenly to the other side of the bed, but it
was empty. He couldn't have dreamt that too, could he?
Linda popped
her head into the bedroom. "Good
morning sleepy head" she said as she walked over to him. She was wearing one of his T-shirts, the one
proudly proclaiming "I WAS THERE!
Mary's by the PIER 1st Anniversary." It fit her like a dress. She
leaned over and gave him a light kiss then said,
"Your
timing is perfect, breakfast is ready."
She turned and started away.
"Nice
outfit" Jeff said, delighted that she was real and still here. "What about your legal briefs?"
She looked over her shoulder, smiled and said "Sorry, but
I'm not working today." Then with an air of sauciness said, "See?"
She bent over at the waist, lifted the back of the shirt over her
bare bottom, wiggled it, then dropped the shirt and pranced off laughing.
He followed
her into the kitchen, just pausing long enough to throw on a pair of shorts
and another T-shirt, this one with a picture of Ludwig Von Beethoven and
the call letters KLUV. Linda motioned
to him to have a seat at the table as she started to serve. The first thing she brought was a plate absolutely buried in bacon.
"At last" Jeff said, "a woman who knows how much
bacon is just enough."
"I hope
it's enough, I cooked a whole pound."
Jeff just nodded as he shoveled a piece into his mouth. He looked up after swallowing and asked "Where's
Brent and Jennifer? It looked
like Brent was going to get some of that last night."
Linda replied
"Brent's gotten plenty of that over the years. But their idea of afterglow is a good fight. They both left before I got up. Here", Linda handed him a piece of paper,
"It's a note from Brent." Jeff
pulled the note closer and read:
Jeff,
Left about 4: 30, Jennifer's mad (so what else
is new)
I'll stop by around noon to see how you survived
the night.
Brent
Noon, Jeff
thought. "What time is it
now?" He looked outside but
that gave him no clue. The sky
was sullen gray and it was raining.
"A little
past eleven. I was beginning to
wonder if you'd ever wake up." Linda
brought over a plate full of eggs and a pitcher of orange juice, set them
on the table and sat down across from Jeff.
They spent the next several minutes filling their plates and their
mouths. They exchanged a couple
of new lover glances but didn't speak while they both tended to the necessity
of food. Choko came in dripping
wet and smelling of wet dog. He
didn't seem to mind his odor as he came over and asked Linda for a piece
of bacon with his eyes. Smart
dog, Jeff thought. He already knows that she's a softer touch
than I am.
"Choko"
Jeff said sternly, "you know better than to beg!" Choko gave Jeff a hopeful glance (hope you
don't really mean that this morning, BOSS) and fixed his stare back on
Linda. Linda laughed as she watched their interplay
, and then gave Choko a full strip of bacon.
He lunged toward her as she held it out to him. She pulled it back and said, "like a gentleman,
like a gentleman." Choko
reached over with his mouth and gently, delicately removed the bacon slice
from her hand.
"Good
boy, your such a good boy!" Choko
liked the female. SHE was good. SHE made this place better. Choko thumped his tail.
"That's enough" Jeff said to the
dog. Choko understood that this
time he meant it and walked away from the table and plopped down on his
dog bed. Linda was gazing at Jeff. She had so many questions, and what he claimed
was so outrageous that she did not know where to start.
"So, how
did you come to be here. Why pick
here to start such an improbable venture?" Linda asked suddenly. "How do you know such wonders, and what
caused you to bring them here, this little backwards nowhere." Jeff stared at her. He had not expected such a deep probe so fast.
"Which
should I respond to first?" His
eyes locked on hers. Her green
eyes accepted his contact, softly but unflinching.
"I know you are smart, I know you've been successful in the
past, but a spaceship? A science
known to you alone? That's hard
to accept."
Jeff said "Why
don't I take them in the order offered. What I'm doing here is looking for a simpler place to live, where
I can finish my work, and enjoy a slower pace of life." Linda didn't respond but kept looking at him.
Jeff waited for her to say something, when she did not he continued.
"I have
heard it said that interstellar space travel must await the next great
breakthrough in physics, perhaps 500 years from now.
But they are wrong. That
great event is upon us, knocking on the door even now, waiting to be let
in." He paused, and Linda
thought she detected a moment of profound sadness in his eyes. It quickly passed and Jeff continued.
"As to
why I 'know these wonders' as you put it, I don't know. I've decided it's rather like a color-blind person asking a normally
sighted person to describe the color red. Unless you have seen red at least once, it can't be done. I would ask you, 'it's so damned obvious, why
can't you see it?'"
This statement
startled Linda. 'You arrogant
son of a bitch', she thought to herself,
"What
do you mean 'damned obvious'? What's
so obvious about building spaceships in the barn?"
"I'll
show you", Jeff said, "right now.
If you can see, the mystery becomes evident." He picked up the fork he was using on his eggs
and raised it about six inches from the tabletop. "Now watch carefully." He let go of the fork. It immediately dropped, clattering to the tabletop.
Linda got visibly upset. "Oh right Mr. Hotshot, dammit, that's
not funny! If you don't want to
tell me, I mean that is one thing. I've
already pretty much blown my professional objectivity, but that's no reason
to make fun of me!" Jeff
thought to himself 'why does everyone respond to this in that way'? He really did not know.
"Linda,
Linda, I was not making a joke, just follow along with what I say, O.K?? Just try to see it as I do."
He looked at
her, a look of sincerity; a look that tried to convey that there really
was something in the simple act of a fork falling to the table that was
profoundly important. His protestation
seemed to mollify her somewhat. "All
right" she said, then added, "But if this is your idea of a
joke, then you're an asshole and you can just find somebody else to pay
your bills."
"Fair
enough", Jeff said. "Now,
I want to ask you some questions. I'm
not trying to goof on you, just answer them as best you can, O.K.?"
"O.K."
"When
I released the fork, what happened?"
"It dropped
onto the table." Her eyes
grew defensive.
"Why did
it drop?" Jeff asked.
"Gravity"
she said defiantly. "Hell,
everyone knows that."
"That
is not an answer to the question why" Jeff said.
ABut that is the answer taught to everyone since they were small
children, until we accept it, unquestioned.
It's Gravity silly, everyone knows that, but all that statement
really says is nobody knows why."
"Well
what other answer is there if it isn't Gravity?" Linda demanded in
a challenging tone.
"Gravity
is not an answer, it is simply a label applied to an unexplained phenomenon."
Jeff thought carefully about how to proceed.
The idea that 'gravity' was just a label and not an explanation,
just as 'red' was a label to a colorblind person, devoid of significance,
was the first step. The next step
to understanding what Jeff was trying to explain was that there exists
an explanation that allows mechanical manipulation of the phenomenon towards
useful application.
"But I
took physics as an undergrad", Linda countered, "gravity is
well understood. They had equations
describing it and everything. How
fast an object falls, how two objects are attracted to each other depending
on their mass, all worked out in the smallest detail.
How can you possibly claim that gravity is an 'unexplained phenomenon'?"
"I never
said that its effects weren't understood", Jeff said. "All I've said is the reason why those effects happen has not
been answered. Current scientific
thought believes gravity is a fundamental force, and what is more important,
is the result of particle interactions.
The physics community is hell bent on explaining everything in
terms of particle physics because of the universal acceptance of quantum
mechanics. That's why they want to build a new super-collider,
to study particles. However, I
have shown that just because these phenomena can be described mathematically
as particles, it doesn't mean they are particles. But that is a very, very fine distinction.
Let me give an example instead.
Have you ever sat by a swimming pool on a hot summer day?"
Linda nodded yes.
"Did you
ever notice, as the sun beat down on the pool, how you could see reflections
of the ripples on the pool along the bottom of it?
How those reflections on the bottom moved in alternating patches
of light and shade? If you lived
exclusively in the plane of the bottom of the pool, those light and dark
areas would appear to you to be discrete packages, and you could develop
the math to describe them as discrete.
If you were an astute mathematician, you would also discover that
those discrete particles had the mathematical form of waves.
That's true because we see that those reflections really are the
result of waves. In two dimensions that might not be such an
obvious conclusion however.
"Our science
is institutionally confused by light similarly as our two dimensional
friend living at the bottom of the pool.
It has both wave and particle behavior.
Our friend confronts the challenge of trying to explain in two
dimensions plus time the effect of three dimensions plus time in reality. We are faced with a similar problem, but ours
is a problem in five dimensions."
"Proof
of a fifth dimension has never been offered" Linda said.
"While
that is technically true", Jeff continued, "nonetheless, the
fifth dimension is there, and is painfully obvious if you just look for
it."
"I'll
bite, show me the fifth dimension", Linda countered. Jeff gave her a big smile, then pointed with his index finger, and
tapped the top of the kitchen table.
"Mass. Mass is the fifth dimension, but to us it exists
as discrete particles. Think about
it. 'Cannot be created nor destroyed.'
existing independently of the generally recognized four dimensions, a
so called state property, interchangeable with energy, and, like the light
on the pool bottom to our friend, discrete."
"Are you
saying" Linda asked with great deliberation, "that you can explain
gravity by assuming a fifth dimension composed of mass?"
"More
than explain, I can artificially reproduce it.
I'm an engineer. That means
I figure out how to apply physical law to solve practical problems." Linda stared at him, her mind was trained,
intelligent, and organized, and he still had her confounded. Her brow furrowed with thought. That was a good sign.
Most people
assume they are born knowing how to think.
But thought is a discipline and requires practice.
People in general are born with the ability to think, just as they
are born with the ability to figure skate; but they have to work at it
to actually achieve any level of competency at it.
"Let me
offer you another question which may help explain this in another light",
Jeff suggested.
"Was it
possible for the ancient Egyptians to go to the moon?" Linda looked at him for a second.
"No, of
course not, that's a strange question" she said.
"But the
same physical law that applies today applied then, the same materials,
in their raw form, existed then as they do now.
The answer is 'Yes' it was possible for them to go to the moon,
the fact that they didn't is irrelevant.
They just didn't know how."
Linda's face
initially contorted into a frown, then suddenly her face brightened and
her eyes noticeably widened. "Click"
said Jeff. Then he continued,
"with this definition of 'possible' in mind consider this: you know
that people have been reporting UFO's for a long time, thousands, tens
of thousands of sightings reported, right? You also know that most of them have been passed
off as all sorts of things, in fact anything except an alien spacecraft,
right?"
"Yes"
Linda said, not knowing where he was going with this line of reasoning.
"Now,
if just one of those sightings out of thousands, just one mind you, was
really an alien spaceship, then the existence of such ships in general
must be true. And if they, whoever or whatever 'they' are
have visited us, then it must be possible for them to do so. If it is possible for them, then it must also
be possible for us. WE just don't
know how, like the ancient Egyptians."
Jeff stopped
for a moment and stared into her eyes.
He felt his interest in more academic pursuits waning.
"I think
that's enough brain twisting for now."
Linda nodded then got up and gathered an armful of dirty dishes
and carried them to the sink. Jeff
came up behind her as she worked rinsing plates.
He wrapped his arms around her.
He ran his hand down her belly and kissed her on her neck. She wriggled in his grasp.
"I think
I need a shower, how about you?"
She asked coyly. "I'm
not dirty enough for a shower", Jeff said, "not yet anyway."
"I think
you're plenty dirty enough, I think you're filthy" she gasped. Jeff considered just bending her over and taking
her where she stood when the whole question was made academic by a loud
knock at the front door.
"Damn",
Jeff muttered and looked at his watch, it was a quarter past noon. Linda and Jeff locked eyes. "Brent", they said together.
"I think I will take that shower after all", Jeff
sighed. "Just make mine a
cold one." Linda ran for
the bedroom, flushed, hot, and unsatisfied.
Jeff answered the door.
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