by Ward Wagher
“Give me a few moments to get ready, and I will drop you off.”
“In no way, Arnold. I am taking the groundcar. You can comm the livery. And here comes the cold air again.” She shook her head in frustration. “Comm me, Arnold.”
So Arnold’s wife had taken the groundcar, and departed to spend the day with her mother. That was not such a bad thing as far as he was concerned, except it eliminated his normal mode of transportation to work. Calling the local livery service cost him more Solars than he wanted to spend, and it deposited him at the laboratory a half hour late.
At the office, Gingery completely forgot about his troubles with the enviro system at home when confronted with the results of one of Edgar Forsenn’s experiments, which had gone disastrously awry. Now, to his thinking, Forsenn’s failures were usually spectacular, but this one topped the others measurably.
After Quintan Rogers informed him of the events of the early morning hours, Arnold quickly walked to the laboratory, so he could confront his own personal mad scientist. Based on what Quint had told him, he was already seething. He had started the day in a bad mood, and now it was worse.
“Do you want to tell me, please, Edgar, why you decided to run the experiment at four in the morning, without the control crew in place? What you accomplished is bad enough, but if you had had a lab accident, nobody would have known what happened.”
Forsenn scratched his head. He had been up for two straight nights completing the final work on the apparatus and was starting to feel the fatigue. “I am sorry, Arnie. I got the test rig running, and the diagnostics were clean, so I thought, what the hoot, we would give it a shot.”
“And what you did was pull some poor soul from who knows where.”
“I know, and I am sorry about that. I am working on creating the calculations to send him back.”
Gingery clasped his hands behind his back and paced the lab. On his second trip, he stopped to face Forsenn again. “Ed, what if we cannot send this... Johann back?”
“There has got to be a way to send him back, Arnie. I refuse to accept the idea that I have destroyed his life.”
Sally Rogers stood watching the exchange. “Temporal theory says you cannot send him back.”
Forsenn looked over at her with a tortured expression. “Do not say that! We have got to send him back.”
“To what? To where, Ed? You are opening up all kinds of paradoxes here.”
“That is just ancient science fiction, Sally.”
“Johann does not look like fiction to me.”
“I did not mean for this to happen!” he shrieked. “What am I ever going to do?”
Gingery reached out with his index finger and poked Forsenn in the chest. “You and Sally are the best theoretical physicists we have. You are going to figure out what happened and how to reverse it. Now, get yourself under control.”
“I need Quintan to help,” Sally said.
“Quintan is busy baby-sitting our other problem,” Gingery said. “Our big problem.”
Sally stepped over to Arnold. “I get my best ideas by bouncing them off Quint. I need him, Arnie. Could you look after Johann?”
“If I have to say this, Sally, I have a lab to run. And I need to call the paladin. He absolutely needs to know about this.”
“Oh, please do not call the paladin, Arnie,” Forsenn begged. “It will be the end of my career.”
Gingery just looked at the scientist. Then he turned to Sally. “Okay, where do you have Edgar’s German parked?”
“Quint took him to the lounge.”
“Oh, great. Just what I need. The whole facility will know about this within the hour.”
“Do you not think everybody already knows, Arnie?” she asked in a soft voice. “I mean, Ed has well and truly caused an epic disaster.”
“Then I must call the paladin. Word will surely get out, and he must hear it from me first.”
Without another word, Gingery spun on a heel and left the room. Sally and Edgar looked at each other.
“I guess this is the end of my career,” he said.
“We need to find out what happened, Ed. If we can reverse the process, there may be no permanent harm done.”
“I really hope so. This is just an unending nightmare. I cannot believe something like this happened.”
“Just get yourself back together,” she said. “You are no shape to solve problems right now.”
A few minutes later, Gingery walked into the lounge, where Quintan Rogers sat across the table from Johann. The German stood up when he saw the lab administrator.
„Ich heiße Johann,“ he said.
“What did he say?” Gingery asked.
“His name is Johann,” Quint repeated. “We have been experimenting with different foods. He likes the hot chocolate, and he ate a bratwurst sandwich.”
„Die Bratwurst hat geschmeckt, als ob der Schweinedarm nicht ordentlich ausgewaschen wurde.“ (The bratwurst tasted like somebody did not get the pig’s intestine cleaned out properly.)
“What did he say?” Gingery asked.
“I have no idea. I’m starting to pick up a few words here and there, and so is he. But we are a long way from truly communicating.”
“Well, I guess I will have to take it from here. Sally needs you in the lab.”
“You will take care of Johann?” Quintan asked.
The German looked back and forth between the two men in puzzlement.
„Worüber sprechen Sie?“ (What are you two gentlemen talking about?)
“I guess I will have to.” He turned to Johann. “Johann, I need to get back to my wife. Arnold here will help you for a while.”
„Du bist Arnold?“
“Yes, I guess I am Arnold.” Gingery shook his head as he realized the sentence made no real sense. “Why not come with me to my office?”
„Wie bitte?“ (What?)
Gingery shook his head again and made motioning signs with his hands for the German to follow him. Quint Rogers watched as the two men left the room.
“What a colossal mess!” he said.
„Wie bitte?“
CHAPTER FIVE
Johann once again rode in the back seat of the Rogers’ groundcar. Quintan and Sally were up front. It was late afternoon and the winter skies were dark. The rain had changed to snow, and the flakes danced in front of the car’s lights. Johann pointed out the windshield.
„Schauen Sie! Schnee! Es war Hochsommer heute Morgen in Leipzig. Was ist mit mir passiert?“ (Look! Snow! It was midsummer this morning in Leipzig. What has happened to me?)
Quintan shook his head. “I am sorry, Johann. I cannot understand you, and I wish I could.”
„Wie bitte?“
Sally turned around in the seat to face the German. “We are taking you to stay at our house. It is much more comfortable than the lab.”
“Besides,” Quintan joined in, “Ed needed to crash.”
„Was heißt ‘crash?“ (What is this ’crash?’)
They heard the last word. Sally folded her hands together and leaned her head against them. “Crash. It means sleep.”
„Ahhh. Schlafen. Crash. Vielleicht werde ich irgendwann Ihre abscheuliche Sprache verstehen.“ (Ahhh. Sleep. Crash. Maybe I will understand your vile tongue.)
Quintan pulled the groundcar into the garage of the Rogers’ rambling ranch-style home. This time Johann was able to figure out the door controls and get out of the car. He followed them into the kitchen of the house. Sally turned to Johann, and held her arms out in a welcoming gesture.
“Welcome to our home. You can stay with us for now. Tomorrow we will go back to the lab.”
The German looked at her, then around the kitchen, then jumped as a teenaged girl with long brown hair walked into the kitchen.
“Johann,” Sally said, “This is our daughter, Lauren. Lauren, this is Johann.”
„Tochter?“ (Daughter?)
Quintan nodded. “Right. Daughter.”
Johann sketched a shor
t bow. „Ich fühle mich geehrt.“ ( I am honored.)
“Pleased to meet you Johann,” Lauren said. She looked at her mother. “What is with the garb? And what is he speaking.”
“A long story,” Sally replied, “and not one to told outside of this house.”
“So, Ed’s experiment worked?”
“That is the problem. It did not work, quite as he anticipated.”
“And so Johann is from...,” she turned pale. “Oh my.”
“Exactly. Right now we need to make Johann as comfortable as possible, under the circumstances.”
“Okay, Mom. Do you need help with dinner?”
“Have you completed your practice?”
“Umm. No. Rachel kept me on the comm all afternoon.”
Sally put her hands on her hips. “All you have to say, young lady, is that you have things to do.”
“But Rachel would not understand.” The whine was noticeable.
“I can do the dinner,” Sally said, “You can do the practice. As much as we pay for lessons...”
“I know.” And Lauren turned to leave the room.
Johann had been studying the exchange and spoke. „Mütter und Töchter sind überall die Selben.“ (Mothers and daughters are the same everywhere.) He spoke with a smile.
Sally laughed. “I think I understood that one.” She pointed to one of the kitchen chairs. “Have a seat, Johann. We can talk, while I prepare the dinner. Eventually, we will start communicating. Quint, can you check to make sure the apartment is ready for guests?”
Quintan nodded and walked from the room. Johann had just sat down when the sound of music emerged from the other room.
„Was ist das?“ (What is that?)
“Oh, Lauren is practicing piano.”
„Das muss ich sehen.“ (I must see this.)
He stood up and marched from the room. Sally grinned and continued with the meal preparations. Lauren was playing the piece by Eshlemann she was preparing for the Secondary School music festival. Sally was convinced the girl showed talent if she could be cajoled into practicing on a regular basis. Sally liked to hear her daughter play, and this song was a favorite.
The song proceeded through the middle third, and into a section where Lauren continually had problems. There was a recurrent complex chord progression that required the pianist’s hands to move apart in an expanding run. While the chords were not themselves that difficult, it did require the musician to trust her hands were in the right places – therefore requiring a lot of confidence. Lauren splattered a chord and muttered a few well-chosen words.
“Be careful with the language, young lady,” Sally called.
She heard a question in German, and Lauren’s “What?” Then more German.
The chord progression was then repeated slowly on the upper octaves of the keyboard. Then more German. The progression came again in the normal register. He was teaching Lauren! He repeated the progression with just the top and bottom notes of the chord. She repeated them with him. The worked their way through several repetitions. Then he added another note in each chord and ran the repetition.
After about fifteen minutes, the chord progression began repeating correctly. Sally peeked through the doorway to see Lauren playing the chord structure with a look of concentration on her face. Johann was sitting next to her on the bench, carefully studying her technique.
Sally shook her head as she returned her task. The German apparently knew music. Lauren completed the piece, and Sally heard the German talking quietly again. A few moments later the song started again, this time a bit more slowly, but the playing sounded more precise. Sally listened, enjoying the cadences of the piece until she heard a tapping at the doorway. She turned to see Lauren pointing to the piano. She walked over to the doorway and looked to see Johann, sitting at the piano, and working his way through the Eshlemann. He completed the piece and smiled at the Rogers mother and daughter.
„Das Spielen dieses Pianoforte ist viel besser als bei dem, das ich vorher gespielt habe. Aber ich würder immer noch lieber mein Cembalo haben.“ (The action on this pianoforte is much better than the one I tried before. But I would still rather have my harpsichord.)
Lauren rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Mom, this guy is pretty good.”
Johann began playing again, this time a composition with an elaborate contrapuntal structure. His fingers flew over the keyboard. As he played, Quintan stepped into the room through the other doorway and leaned against the jamb as he listened. It was not a long piece, and Johann brought it to a quick halt.
“I have never heard anything like that,” Quintan said. “It was lovely.”
„Ich hoffe ich habe Sie nicht gestört. Bitte proben Sie weiter. Sie müssen mehr üben für diese Musik.“ (I hope I did not disturb you.) He stood up, and pointed his arms at Lauren, and then at the bench. (Please, continue your rehearsal. You require more work on this music.)
“I think he wants me to keep practicing, Mom,” Lauren said.
“By all means,” Sally said, with a laugh. “It is free instruction.”
Dinner was interesting. What began as an incomprehensible interaction of German and Anglo, did not become intelligible. But, the people at the table were gradually beginning to understand one another. Johann enjoyed a large helping of potatoes and had seconds. He tasted the sweet corn and ate no more of that. And he seemed to enjoy the chicken fillet.
Johann was amazed at how the Rogers used the salt and pepper cellars. They seemed to give it no more thought than anything else in this strange place. In Germany, an ounce of pepper was literally worth its weight in gold. Pepper was something the elite used in an ostentatious display of wealth.
By the end of the meal, it was clear the man was worn out. He had yawned several times and looked like he did not quite know what to do next. Quintan was not really surprised, considering what the day had been like.
Quintan took him to the small apartment attached to their home. It contained a sitting room with a kitchenette, a bedroom and a fresher. Quintan had laid out a spare pair of pajamas, and then showed Johann the shower, along with miming the motions for washing. The German did smell somewhat as though he had been laboring physically. Quintan also showed Johann how to operate the lights and the video station.
Sally’s elderly mother had lived in the apartment for a decade or longer before old age finally took her. Because she had developed the tendency to wander off, Quintan had installed a security system, which notified them when anyone entered or left the apartment. He now felt safe enough leaving the involuntary guest alone for the night.
“We need to do something about his clothes,” Sally said when Quintan returned to the sitting room.
“I do not know his size.”
“Men! I know I can get within about fifteen percent. And I already ordered something.”
“You did?”
She looked at him, as she often did when she thought he was being dense. “I ordered him a suit, underwear, and shoes from Quandark. It should be here in the morning.”
Quandark was one of the major retailers in the Palatinate. By ordering via the global network, customers could receive their merchandise within twelve hours. The Palatinate supported package delivery services that were rapid and efficient.
“What is that going to cost?” Quintan asked.
“The lab is going to pay for it.”
“Arnie will pop an eyeball when you charge that.”
“No, he will not. He is frightened to death of what the paladin is going to do.”
“I am frightened to death of what the paladin is going to do. Did he manage to contact him today?” Quintan asked.
Sally shook her head. “I understand the paladin is off-planet at the moment. His chief of staff promises to have him call as soon as he is in-system.”
“I did not think the paladin ever went out-system. He usually sticks pretty close to home.”
Sally shrugged. “I heard his son was restarting the terraforming project on
Mars, and there was some kind of a formal kick-off or dedication.”
“I saw that on the news-vid. I did not realize that was the paladin’s son.”
“I think the paladin is financing it.”
Quintan snorted. “That would be a lot of Solars to pour into that hole in space.”
“His track record has been pretty good, so far.”
“Except for financing Ed Forsenn’s lab.”
Sally laughed out loud. “You just might have a point there, Sweetheart.”
CHAPTER SIX
The materials and mechanisms continually amazed him. Johann awoke and rolled over to look at the softly glowing numerals of the small panel on the wall. He had stared at the slowly changing numbers the previous night before he went to sleep, and now he understood he was looking at a clock. It was a little surprising. It was 6:13 AM according to the device. He was familiar with clock mechanisms, but could not imagine how one could build something to display the actual numbers.
He had once visited the Margrave of Brandenburg and had been impressed with the luxury of the Margrave’s castle. But, here he was wallowing in unimagined richness. Would heaven be like this? The cotton night clothes were soft and supple. The bed was smooth and soft, not lumpy, and scratchy like the straw-filled sacks he was used to sleeping on. And his underclothes were cotton too. He had seen cotton in Leipzig, but it was rare and valuable. Much more comfortable than the usual linen. And he had seen no linen here.
The wealth here was deceptively simple. It was not flaunted like the nobles back home did. It was just a part of life. What was this place?
In spite of the repeated shock, or maybe because of them, Johann had slept heavily and well. He was awake, now. The pressure in his bladder impelled him to arise, anyway. When he placed his feet on the floor, the lights in the room gradually brightened from their night-time dimness. His feet settled into the carpet, and he savored the sensation. Such comfort. He walked out of the bedroom and down the short hall to what his host had called the frescher, which was much, much more than an elaborate indoor privy. He took care of his business and then studied the room.