Gravity Rising (The Parallel Multiverse Book 2)

by Ward Wagher

  Shortly after the spring thaw, the hotel had installed a landing pad behind the buildings. Two grasshoppers perched on the pad, as if braced for flight. When the couple left the hotel building, the guests tossed flower petals at them. As Larry helped Maggie into the grasshopper, Arthur interrupted them.

  “Lawrence, I need a signature from you and Margaret on this document before you leave.”

  “Sure,” Larry said. He took the pen and the heavy parchment page from Arthur. “What is this?”

  “This is the deed to your house in Urbana?”

  Larry stopped and looked carefully at the old man. “I don’t understand.”

  “This is my wedding gift to you and Margaret. Congratulations.”

  “Arthur, that is too much,” Maggie called from inside the grasshopper. “You do not need to be that generous.”

  “Oh, but I am delighted to do so. Now Lawrence, if you would sign on this line. Margaret will sign below you.”

  After they both signed the deed, Winkleman folded the document and slid it into an envelope.

  “I will see that it is delivered to the city clerk in Urbana,” he said. “The keys will be waiting when you return from your trip. The modifications to your home are almost complete. After the honeymoon, you should be able to move in whenever you desire.”

  Larry shook his hand. “Mr. Winkleman, I don’t know what to say. But, thanks.”

  “It was my pleasure,” he said.

  Larry climbed into the grasshopper and buckled in next to Maggie. Abby had the piloting duties, and Alex sat in the front with her. Brad was flying the second grasshopper with their luggage. The payload of the small little aircraft was strictly limited.

  Larry watched the small group of guests as they lifted off. They cheered and waved. Winkleman merely smiled and nodded.

  § § §

  “Well, it appears you have successfully defended your Master’s Thesis,” Dr. Jerzy Pournelle said, as he looked across his desk at Sebastian Sylvester.

  “Oh, thank you, Sir,” Seb said. “It’s a relief to get that out of the way.”

  “As soon as the review committee signs off on the documentation, we should be awarding your degree. You have done well.”

  The young man nodded. “I really appreciate the help I received here. I think MIT is simply an outstanding school, and it was an honor to be able to study here.”

  “Am I correct in my understanding that you do not want an award ceremony?” Pournelle asked.

  “Uh, that’s right,” Seb confirmed, the right side of his mouth twitching slightly. “My parents are not big on ceremony, although they are happy that I have finally completed my work here.”

  “Indeed. What are your plans, young man?”

  “I have a position lined up at the College of Urbana in the Palatinate.”

  Pournelle’s eyebrows raised. “I had not heard that. Are you sure you want to go out into the sticks for a job? Surely you could find something closer. You are from Cambridge, isn’t that correct?”

  “Dr. Pournelle, there is little call for cyberneticists here in Cambridge, or even down the east coast. This is a chance to work in my field, plus I am starting up the department in the college.”

  “Is that so?” Pournelle glanced down at his desk and scrapped his teeth over his lower lip. “I can’t say I like hearing that. I fear you might be throwing away a career by going out to work for those people. I don’t know how much you have investigated, but the Midwesterners are scarcely civilized.”

  Seb leaned back in his chair and thought furiously. Despite this meeting with his advisor, MIT had yet to formally award his degree, and so he was chary of offending the man.

  “I am open to advice, Sir,” he replied. “You have been very helpful to me.”

  Pournelle subsided somewhat. “Very well. Let me ask around and see if anything is available. And, I should have your degree for you within a couple of days. Why don’t you take a few days off and spend time with your parents? I will contact you when the paperwork is done.”

  Seb recognized that Pournell was dismissing him and stood up. “Thank you, once again, Sir, for all your help.”

  “I just guided you,” Pournelle said. “What you achieved, you did on your own, and I am proud of you.”

  Seb Sylvester left Pournelle’s office and walked down the hall to the exit. He wondered how to deal with the thinly veiled suggestions that he avoid Urbana. He had no intention of following Fluffy’s advice concerning his career, but he knew he had to handle it carefully. The Paladin had offered him a plum position, and it was important for him to get to Urbana.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  The spring winds caused the ancient building to creak and sway. The carcasses of other buildings littered the Boston landscape, where, in their death, they blocked streets and crushed other buildings. This was the sweep of a dead city, as it slowly returned to dust. The remaining humans had neither the desire nor the ability to resurrect Boston to anything like its former greatness. As one building collapsed, burned, or otherwise became uninhabitable, the denizens would move to another. After all, there was plenty of free real estate along the banks of the Charles River.

  “You needn’t worry about this building,” the elderly, obese woman said. “It will stand for another two years or so. You should believe me.”

  “Whether I believe you or not, is not the point,” the other occupant of the sixteenth-floor room said. “I have no reason to trust you.”

  “Perhaps that is true. But, consider this; I have not told you anything that was not absolute truth, have I?”

  “How can I even know that?”

  She cocked her head as she studied her subject. “Perhaps I have been remiss in not demonstrating truth.”

  Outside the building came the deep grumble of thunder, and the winds suddenly lashed the rotten structure. The creaks and groans grew louder as the building continued to oscillate. Pieces of the structure broke free and rained down upon the streets below.

  “If you attempt to flee,” the old woman said suddenly, “you would not succeed in reaching the ground floor. I would collapse the building around you.”

  “And what, then, about you? Would you pull the building down around yourself?”

  She smiled at her guest, then. It was an evil smile, and it seemed that the fires of hell smoldered in her eyes. “Do you feel sufficiently energetic to find out?”

  The wind subsided, and the edifice halted its pendulum motion. The sigh of relief from her guest was noticeable.

  “So. You will relocate yourself to Urbana. You will do whatever is necessary to halt Berthold’s work. He must not succeed. It appears that the only way to stop him would be to either kill him or the girl. Have I made myself sufficiently clear?”

  Her guest swallowed. “You have made yourself clear.”

  “Then go. Time continues to flow, and you do not have a lot of it.”

  Without another word, the guest stood and exited what was once a legal office and began the long descent in the crumbling stairwell. The old woman walked to the window, her footfalls causing the floor to shiver. She stared out at the moldering Boston skyline for perhaps two minutes. Then she simply disappeared.

  § § §

  At the same time, another meeting took place in Cambridge. In a fourth-floor walk-up over a small grocery another elderly, heavy-set woman stood, gazing out the window at the MIT campus. She turned to face her guest.

  “I suppose you must move your work to Urbana and do it soon.”

  “I have not completed my tasks, here. There is much to be done.”

  The old woman shook her head. “You have accomplished your work here concerning Lawrence Berthold. There are forces in motion, however, that are determined to stop him from progressing further.”

  “And so you expect me to simply pop into Urbana and act as though I belong. Must I tell you that Berthold is already deeply suspicious of me? And the accident which was arranged for the girl did nothing to reass
ure him.”

  “So?” she raised an eyebrow. “The results of that little miscalculation are behind us. I trust you learned from it.”

  The guest in the meeting now walked over to the window and gazed out at the campus.

  “I have become fond of the people in this place. I am not anxious to leave.”

  “Is that what I should tell the Tasker?” she asked.

  “No, of course not. I become impatient with suboptimal methods. The Tasker seems to react rather than proact. Our objectives are clear. The plan seems circuitous at best.”

  “Surely you know there is another player,” the old lady said. “For whatever reasons, and the Tasker has not informed me of them, the other player does not want Berthold to succeed.”

  “And I really do not want him to succeed, either. He is an insufferable little ogre. Worst yet, the girl seems almost to worship him. I find it disgusting.”

  The old woman spun and pointed a finger at her guest.

  “Need I remind you….”

  “Oh, you needn’t remind me of anything,” the guest replied with asperity. “I know my job, and I do it well. If I must transfer my work to Urbana, I will do so. And I will complete my tasks, even if I think it is a fool’s errand.”

  The old woman folded her arms across her massive chest. She shrugged with a massive harrumph.

  “Very well, then. You may go about your fool’s errand, as you deign to call it. As you work, remember the Tasker’s expectations. Failure follows impatience, regardless of motive. We hold high expectations.

  “Are we quite finished here?”

  The old woman nodded slowly. “You may go.”

  § § §

  “Put me down, you lout!” Maggie shrieked as Larry picked her up out of her wheelchair and carried her across the threshold of their house.

  Larry chuckled as he set her carefully on the sofa and went to retrieve the wheelchair and their luggage. The driver had delivered them to the front door, and set their things on the porch, before going on his way.

  “Arthur told me about an old tradition, where the groom carries his bride across the threshold into their new home. I kind of liked it.”

  “Arthur will regret telling you these things,” she said darkly. “I think what we know about Cambridge and Quebec is the norm, and the Palatinate is the outlier.”

  “But, don’t you think it’s charming?”

  She snorted. “About as charming as putting a garter under a floor-length dress where no one would ever see it,” and she held up a finger to continue her point, “assuming I would want anyone to see it. There are just too many strange things in the Palatinate that I have trouble assimilating.”

  “And what do you think of our new house, Mags?” he asked, changing the subject.

  She slowly panned her gaze around the room.

  “I think I love it,” she said slowly. “I could be very happy here.”

  “I will do my very best to see to it that you are happy in our house,” Larry smiled. “This is one of my dreams, you know.”

  “What would that be?”

  “Here I am, in a paid-for house, with the lady I love, getting ready to start the dream career. It doesn’t get any better than that.”

  “You’d better get that chair over here because this lady needs to inspect the plumbing facilities. I had to go when we left Indianapolis.”

  Larry quickly wheeled the chair over next to the sofa. Maggie expertly used her arms to bounce herself off the sofa and into the wheelchair. Following that, she quickly wheeled herself across the living room, and through the door into the bathroom.

  Larry shook his head and smiled. He stepped out on to the front porch, began collecting the luggage, and carried it into the house. He then staged it back to the master bedroom, inspecting the house as he went. He liked what he saw. The workmanship appeared to be superb. The corners where the trim pieces met were joined so carefully that he had difficulty even seeing the seams.

  Maggie rolled into the room and began directing him in the unpacking. Their meager belongings barely filled two of the drawers in the dresser, and their winter coats were the only items in the closet. She seemed satisfied with the arrangements.

  “And now, let’s go see how the kitchen turned out,” she said as she rolled out the room.

  “But I thought we should try out the bed, while we are in here,” he suggested.

  “One thing is always on your mind,” she sniffed. “We’ll find our way back in here soon enough.”

  “Look at this Larry,” she exclaimed as she opened cabinet doors. “Somebody has already done the grocery shopping for us!”

  He walked over to the food cooler and opened the door.

  “Looks like whoever it was took care of us here, too.”

  “Why don’t you get out of my way and let me put together our first meal in our new house.”

  Larry quickly acquiesced and retreated to the dining table. He had carried his computer out from the bedroom and left it on the table as she inspected the kitchen. He opened it up and began scanning the email that had piled up during the honeymoon.

  Maggie organized a selection of foodstuffs for their dinner and rummaged for cooking pans.

  “There’s new cookware too, Larry,” she said.

  “I wonder how much of that was Arthur’s doing,” Larry commented. “I was expecting to have to spend a lot of money to equip the place.”

  “No complaints from this girl.”

  A little later, she rolled across the room to check on what Larry was working on. She leaned out to receive a kiss from him. He marveled at how affectionate she now was. He liked being near her, and the nights they had spent together under the covers were special.

  “Judging from the size of your inbox, it’s a good thing I didn’t let you have your computer while we were on our trip.”

  He laughed. “You are more important than email, Maggie.”

  “Yeah, well, you just remember that from here on out.”

  “I would like to visit the lab in the morning if that’s all right with you,” he said.

  “We probably should wander over to the campus as well. I would like to see my office and get some idea of the expectations.”

  “We can do that too. We technically have another week before we start work, but I really don’t want to sit around.”

  “Me neither,” she said. “I love having my own kitchen, and I have ideas for decorating the house that I need to talk to you about.”

  “Sure. We could probably accomplish quite a bit in the next week or so.”

  “You just remember that, Sir.”

  The next morning Maggie and Larry decided to take a walk, following breakfast. The town was neatly arranged, and sidewalks outlined every street. The business district was a few blocks away, and Larry was content to push Maggie’s wheelchair as they studied the summer scenery. Many of the shopkeepers were just in the process of opening for the day when the couple came by. The people of the town greeted Larry and Maggie cheerfully and were friendly with each other. The town seemed more like a family than a community.

  The campus was located just south of the area they explored. That would wait for later in the day. Larry thought it might be easier to hire a driver to take them over to the campus. By the time he had pushed Maggie the eight or ten blocks of their excursion, he was beginning to feel tired. Although, the sidewalk that acted as a shortcut to the campus would shorten the trip considerably.

  As they neared their small, neat bungalow, they spotted a familiar figure in front of the house next door.

  “Mrs. Willow, what are you doing here?” Maggie called.

  The old woman turned around and glared at them.

  “Some people in Cambridge were not satisfied with the job I was doing for them. I thought that since everyone else seemed to have looked towards Urbana, I would as well.”

  “We’re glad to have you here,” Maggie said. “It’s wonderful to have someone we already know for a nei
ghbor.”

  “Hmph,” she grunted. “Just trying to keep body and soul together.”

  The old woman turned and marched back into her house.

  “I swear I can feel the ground shake when she walks nearby,” Larry said.

  “Oh, hush, Dearest,” Maggie said. “I think it’s wonderful to have her here. And, I saw you roll your eyes.”

  “You were looking straight ahead, and I’m behind you,” Larry protested.”

  “Are you accusing me of lying to her husband?” Maggie asked.

  “No, Dear. Of course not, Dear.”

  She reached around and patted his hand. “That’s good, Dearest.”

  Larry shrugged as he pushed her up the sidewalk to their home. Part of Maggie’s charm was her sheer unpredictability.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  “Our grass looks kind of scruffy,” Maggie said as Larry pushed her wheelchair up the sidewalk to their house one afternoon.

  “How is it supposed to look?” he responded.

  “You don’t pay attention to anything, do you? Look how neat the grass is over there.” She pointed to the yard next door, with its neatly manicured bushes and carefully edged grass.

  “You think we should make our place look like that?” Larry scratched his head. “This homeowner stuff gets complicated. I suppose I am going to have to go buy some tools for this stuff.”

  “Why don’t you go look in the garage, first?” she prodded. “Maybe the old owners left something there.”

  He unlocked the front door and pushed her into the living room. “You know, I haven’t looked at the garage since we moved in.”

  “Have you looked at the basement?”

  He looked around the room. “Um, yes, actually. There is nothing down there except a broom and dustpan. A lot of empty space. What do people do with all this space? Our stuff pretty much fits in the closet of the bedroom.”

  The sound of her laughter had always reminded him of a donkey hee-hawing, but he enjoyed it. She laughed now.

  “Just wait until we have a baby. That will probably fill another room up.”