Opalescence

by Ron Rayborne

  “I don’t think you’ve heard much of what I’ve been saying for the past ten minutes or so. I understand; I tend to drone on.”

  “Sorry, just thinking,” Julie responded. “Actually, I’m famished.” As if to underline her statement, Julie’s stomach suddenly let out an audible growl. She covered her arms over her waist and half smiled, embarrassed.

  “Well then, this place has the best burger in town. I recommend it,” Mack quipped.

  “Ah, Mack! Right on time.” It was Karstens, walking out of the dining area. “Let’s have lunch!” He clasped Mack and Julie on the back.

  “I’d love to, Bob, but if it’s okay with you, can I take a raincheck on that? Some people coming by from Beijing and I’ll need to meet them.” He opened a small hatch on the back of the cart, pulling out a plastic bag, which Julie guessed contained his lunch. “Potential sponsors. They’re looking to make an investment.”

  “Oh yes, the Wang group,” Karstens remembered. “Yes, by all means continue. Every little helps. I’m going to hold you to that lunch, though.”

  “Looking forward to it, Bob.” Mack looked at his watch. “Gotta run, guys.” He shook Julie’s hand, then, looking at Karstens, gave him the thumbs up. “I think she’ll do nicely.” With that, he winked at Julie, smiled, then boarded the cart and left down the hall, turning right at the corner, and was gone.

  “‘I think she’ll do nicely?’” Julie repeated aloud.

  Karstens took hold of Julie’s elbow, “Chow time!”

  Chapter 4

  Amid greetings, smiles, and nods, Karstens led Julie to a corner booth. Those on either side of it were unoccupied. He glanced around while gesturing for her to sit, himself taking the side facing the wall.

  The place was moderately engaged, with more arriving. Groups of people were in quiet discussion. A few of them, Julie noted, occasionally glanced their way. Then Karstens took a small device from his pocket and set it upon the table. He touched it lightly on the side and paused. Slowly, Julie noticed, the volume of background noise was increasing. More conversation, mixed with kitchen sounds of dishes and silverware. She looked around, but the decibel level seemed somewhat out of proportion to the number of people in the room and was apparently coming through the ceiling speakers. She looked back at Karstens, who was looking down, innocently adjusting his napkin. She looked again at the little box sitting on the table, then reached for it. Quickly Karstens shielded it with his own hand and Julie withdrew.

  “White Noise Amplifier,” Karstens said, “aka WNA. Makes it harder for others to hear a private conversation.”

  “Oh,” Julie answered, lifting an eyebrow and looking at Karstens peculiarly. The place was filling up. She looked again at the booth closest to them, still empty. Then she noticed a small triangular sign on its table, near the edge. “Reserved,” it said in red letters. Karstens was now fidgeting with the condiments. Scratching her right temple and clearing her throat, Julie turned in her seat to glance at the booth behind her. “Reserved.”

  “Okay,” Julie said. “Are we expecting company?”

  “No,” Karstens answered.

  The waitress arrived. “Hi, Bob. Having lunch a bit late today, aren’t we?” She looked at Julie and smiled. Julie returned the smile.

  Karstens waved her query away. “I had something earlier.” He grinned.

  The woman, Sonya, frowned disapprovingly. “I hope you’re not still sneaking that toasted -”

  Karstens coughed loudly, cutting off her statement. “Oh, heck no. Matter of fact I had that lovely piece of carrot cake you sent up yesterday,” he asserted, “and was it good!”

  “Umm,” Sonya murmured. Since his divorce, Sonya had made herself Karstens’ de facto dietician, and while normally she would have continued this light banter, she sensed somehow that now was not the time. Her eyes dropped to the little black box on the table. She nodded to herself, then reaching into an apron pocket, took out an e-pad. “What can I getcha?” she asked him again. She knew that the man liked to eat.

  “I’m thinking a fat faux egg sandwich with fries would do nicely,” Karstens answered. “And a glass of red wine, please, maybe that number you’ve been telling me about.” Sonya raised an eyebrow.

  “Got it,” she answered. A very rare wine. This was her, then? “But for the record, I don’t have faux anything,” she corrected. Then turning to Julie, “And for you, Dr. Pine?”

  Julie gaped, “How do you know who I am?” she questioned. “How does everyone know who I am?”

  “You look like a garden burger kind of girl to me,” Sonya deflected. “We make a killer GB with a lovely salad on the side. How’s that sound?”

  “Uh, fine,” Julie answered, starting to feel annoyance at the skullduggery.

  “Great,” said Sonya. Then, sticking the stylus over one ear, she turned on her heels and walked to the order counter.

  “Dr. Karstens,” Julie began, “I mean, Bob, if you don’t mind my asking, what the hey is going on? Why do I get the idea that everyone here is in on something?” Just then her stomach growled again. “Sorry.” Grabbing a glass of water, she drank half.

  Karstens’ beeper went off. “Excuse me a moment,” he said. He flipped open his cell and began an unenlightening conversation. While Julie could hear a tinny voice coming from it, she couldn’t quite make out what was being said. Small chitchat about percentages and the like. She looked at her watch. It’d been almost two hours since she left the clinic. She should be leaving soon. The transit home would take a while, and she needed to make a stop at the museum. Yet, she had to see the specimens.

  Karstens noticed her. “Right. Yes. Okay. Uh huh. Go ahead with that. Let’s talk about that other thing later, Howard, I’m in the middle of an important meeting... It’s fine. Right. Right. Okay, talk to you later.” Karstens flipped closed the cover to his cell.

  As if on cue, Sonya showed up with their plates.

  “Thanks, dear,” Karstens said.

  “Thank you,” Julie said. She saw, now, the small round pin on Sonya’s shirt. It read:

  Party like there’s no tomorrow

  “My pleasure,” said Sonya. Then she gave Julie a somber look and half-smile, squeezing her hand.

  Too hungry to parse it, Julie immediately grabbed her sandwich and took a large bite. It was delicious. She took another.

  “Mmm, this is good. Where do you...?”

  “We grow it ourselves, underground, hydroponically, with water from the accelerator,” Sonya informed. Then with a little bow, she headed to another table. Ah yes, the recycled water.

  “Important meeting”, Karstens had said. Hmm.

  “Sonya’s a promising grad student. Gifted, even. She waits on the side. Doesn’t have to, she likes to. Gets to meet people.” Karstens offered. Then he set to his sandwich.

  A grad student. Julie almost asked what the point was, but she knew the answer already. In times of crisis, we maintain our traditions to maintain a sense of normalcy. The alternative, admitting futility, was madness.

  Karstens seemed to be in thought and Julie didn’t want to interrupt him. Still, she felt that she’d waited long enough. Finally, she said, “Bob, I need to leave soon. When can I see the specimen?”

  Karstens hesitated, looking at his plate, then, at last, up at her. He’d apparently come to some decision. When he did, the look on his face shook her. Gone was the easy disposition of just moments before. Now he looked dead serious. She stopped chewing.

  “Absolutely, Doctor,” he said. “First though, I have to get something out of the way .... Julie, I, uh,” pausing again, “I know about you.”

  She gulped hard, almost choking. What? What’s this?

  “Know about me?” she asked. It wasn’t that she had anything to hide, really, but the way he said it, it sounded bad.

  Karstens faltered, smiled, then said, “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right at all.” He took a quick sip of his drink. Julie had stopped eating and was now staring blankly
at him. Karstens sighed and muttered an expletive. “What I’m trying to say is, well,” he shook his head, “um, well, a complaint was made, and well...”

  “A complaint? About me? I don’t understand,” she said, feeling a tightening in her throat. Is that what this is all about, she wondered, preamble to a lynching?

  “Okay,” Karstens said, putting his hands edge down on the table, like knives on a cutting board, “here’s the long and short of it. Your supervisor at the museum - Burns, I think it is? - anyway, he made a complaint about you to his boss. Seems he found one of your notebooks and thought it - subversive. So he wrote you up.” Julie started to stand.

  “Sit down, Julie!” Karstens ordered. He looked around the room, but no one appeared to be listening. “Please, hear me out.” Julie stared at him, reseating herself, while her heart picked up its pace.

  “What does this have to do with you, sir?” she asked.

  “Julie, do you know who Burns answers to?” he asked.

  “To be honest, I didn’t know he answered to anyone,” she replied.

  “Well, he does. Though he doesn’t want anyone knowing that. Julie, Burns is an ass, everyone in your field knows it. You know it, perhaps better than anyone.”

  “I still don’t get...”

  “Burns reports to Jim Hodges.”

  “Okay…”

  “Jim, as you know, and with all due respect, is the greatest, all around paleontologist we have today.”

  “Yes,” Julie acknowledged, though she felt somewhat stung in the admission. “Of course he’s the best. I agree. I know my place.” Karstens looked at her.

  “No, Julie, that’s not what I’m saying. Like I said, Hodges is the best all around paleontologist we have today. But he’s not the best there is for our purposes. And I’ll get to that.” He lifted his glass and drank more, eyeing Julie over the rim.

  “First off, you don’t have to worry about that report from Burns. Hodges filed it appropriately, I believe it was in his fireplace, and he instructed Burns not to say another word about it. To gain his cooperation, he left him with the impression that you would be investigated,” he said. “Seems you and Hodges know each other,” Karstens continued.

  “We do, somewhat.” Julie acknowledged. “We met at a conference a few years ago. He had a grandfatherly way about him.”

  “Yes, well, he certainly thinks a lot of you. Notes all your papers. He’s a friend.” Julie felt herself beginning to relax. “And so am I.” Karstens reached over and extended his hand as if in symbolic greeting for the first time. As if to say, “Let’s start over.” She understood and took his hand.

  “Thank you. But I still don’t follow...”

  “Julie, Hodges led us to you. He said no one else would be right for this job.” Julie sat, impassive, listening.

  “So I’m going to cut to the chase. Finally,” Karstens grinned. “Julie, m’lady, remember this day, this is the day that will change your life forever, and I mean that in a good way. This is the day that you have dreamed of for so long. Are you ready for that?” He thought that it was a good thing that she was already sitting down.

  “Julie, the freak experiment that you saw earlier is not a one-off. It’s reproducible, and everything you saw in that room, everything, is Miocene. Julie, we have found a way to travel back in time. And those specimens we’ve got, they’re just the tip of the iceberg, if you will,” he said.

  “No. That’s impossible.” Julie replied. “Impossible. There’s some other explanation.”

  “Believe me, I know it’s a lot to absorb. But I’m not deluded and I’m not lying. And it’s now history. Though I don’t think you’ll see it in any history books for a while.”

  “Not to be disrespectful, Dr. Karstens, but why should I believe you? This whole thing, it’s incredible! And all the cloak and dagger. It’s like something from a science fiction movie. How can I believe any of this?”

  Karstens decided to put it on the line. In spite of the white noise amplifier, he held his voice low, glancing covertly around. “My lady, here’s the long and short of it. We both know, you and I, that people have screwed the earth and ourselves. Unfortunately, it’s irreparable.” Julie gaped. It was treason. He continued, “This idiot system, the morons running the show, sold the farm. Our planet is doomed, there’s no saving it.”

  The pulse was pounding in her temples. She felt light-headed.

  “Oh sure, something will survive, cockroaches, bacteria. With enough time, other species will evolve. Who knows?” Julie had gone white. He could be executed for this! She would be an accomplice. She looked furtively for cameras.

  “Don’t worry m'lady. No cameras, no microphones,” Karstens reassured. So you say, she thought. Was this a setup, designed to get her to confess?

  Karstens suddenly felt a wave of pity for her, and for what the world had become. She was, in that moment, not an eminent scientist, but just a young woman, a girl even, like his own daughter. A girl who had had to live in fear for too long. Silently, he cursed the state that could do this. Reaching across, he placed his hand over hers, placed it as a caring father would. She looked hard at him. No, he isn’t lying.

  “My lady, we’ve found a way to travel back in time, and,” here Karstens paused, then, “and we want you to go.” Julie leaned back against the seat and rested her head against the corner. Karstens said no more then, and just watched her.

  Julie closed her eyes, head bent over, just breathing, waiting for the light-headedness to fade. When she opened them again a few moments later, she gazed around the room. Nothing had changed. The world had not stopped. In fact, no one was paying them any attention at all. Wait, there was one. Guy in a dark suit. Dark blue tie. Soon as Julie looked his way, though, he averted his eyes. She watched him, and a few seconds later, he looked back. The stranger held her gaze for another moment, then away again, nodding to the conversation of the woman whose back was turned toward her. He looked down then, writing something in a small notebook in front of him.

  Julie looked at a woman working behind the counter. Young, cute, dressed in circa 1950s drive thru. She hadn’t noticed before. All the wait people were wearing the costume. Hmm. This waitress was also writing something down. An order, probably burger and fries. No wait, throw in a milkshake. But she was writing on an electronic pad. The stranger was using a paper notebook. People didn’t generally use those unless they feared their electronic messages might be intercepted.

  Too much mystery. She let it go.

  “Is this retro week?” she asked. Karstens looked around.

  “Heh. Looks like.” The girls were attractive, short skirts, low bustlines. They brought in the customers. The restaurant was a concessionaire. But most of the employees were students with degrees.

  “Oughta be a law,” he said facilely. They said nothing else for a while, each simply eating his and her lunch. Let her digest it all, he thought. Perhaps ten minutes went by that way. Each relaxing or trying to relax. Then Julie spoke up.

  “So how does this work, Bob — you’ve invented time travel and — I’m to be your guinea pig?” she asked. She had to ask.

  “Something like that.” Karstens replied. “No, not really. Well ... maybe. Well.... Julie, I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. We’re in trouble. Real trouble. We’re going down.” Now that she steeled herself for this conversation, Julie was ready, both feet firmly planted. She was ready.

  “My lady, I am you. Male version, but ... I know how you feel, I know what you think — about people, about the government, about the whole of human enterprise, because I feel exactly the same way. Furthermore, I believe that most thinking, caring souls among our race feel the same. We all know it.

  “We screwed up this world, probably the only livable planet we could have found in lifetimes of spaceflight. Our earth, our precious, lovely, fragile planet. She was a paradise, clinging tenaciously, proudly, to life in a vast sea of lifelessness. Struggling mightily to overcome the many
assaults she has endured through the billions of years. Struggling to make life as comfortable as possible for her many children. How happy we should have been.

  “Gaia Theory, yes,” Karstens said when he noticed Julie’s expression. “I am a proponent. Secretly, of course.”

  “As am I,” she replied subversively.

  “We had everything, Julie, everything we needed right here. But it wasn’t enough. We also had an insatiable drive, an unquenchable hunger to be God, and it’s killed us. What have we done? What have we done?” He trailed off here.

  “But,” Julie objected, “what about the spheres?” Karstens seemed not to hear. He was in another place.

  Then he said, “Yeah. The grass is always greener somewhere else. Even when it’s in the frozen vacuum of space.”

  A strange sort of delirium seemed take hold of her, almost a drunkenness. But an unpleasant one. He was right; she knew it, had known it for a long time. But it was painful to finally admit it to herself. We’d killed the planet.

  “Sometimes at night,” Julie began, releasing years of pain, “I cry. I cry when I think of the way we’ve treated this wonderful world. Damn it! We had it on a silver platter. All we had to do was take care of her. People just don’t know. They have no idea what we’ve lost. How close we are to the end.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Karstens harshly. He looked around. “People have grown up thinking the world of man is all there is, all there’s ever been. All that counts. They’ve been deliberately lied to by shrewd people cleverer than us. Oily corporate politicians and their think-tank liars for hire. Sociopathic freaks of evolution whose only concern was enriching themselves. Ayn Randians of the worst kind. Hard, mean, evil. Brilliant Neanderthals who found the pen mightier than the sword, but had no problem endorsing the sword when the pen wasn’t enough. They were like thieves that break into a house in the night, who, seeing it on fire, whisper to the tenants to go back to sleep ‘cause they figure there’s still time to plunder the place.