by M. J. Konkel
“I wish it was all a joke.”
“If it is not a joke, then prove it. Show me see a dinosaur.”
“I think that can be arranged. By the way, you wouldn't have any idea how we ended up here? Would you?”
“Assuming this is not a prank, no. But I’m still to be convinced that this isn’t a prank. I … I can't seem to remember anything that has happened to me recently. I know who I am. I am Professor Rundcutt, Professor Alfred Jackson Rundcutt. I am a professor of physics at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. I work on both theoretical and applied physics; my specialty is M-theory. But the last thing I can remember is ... let me think. It was April 25th. How long ago was that?”
“What year was that?”
“What year? Is that joke.” He told her the year he thought he was in.
“We’re almost four years past that.”
“Tell me this is all a joke. I lost four years?”
“Just try to relax. You are suffering from amnesia. Often memories will start coming back with time or with certain key events or objects triggering them.”
“Alternate universe?”
“That's what we're calling it. Wherever we are, it is not the home we knew. At first, we thought we went back in time, but we now know that can't be the case.”
“Humph. What town is this anyway?”
“We were in Brown's Station, Minnesota. But the river is bigger here in this world and we had to abandon the town when it flooded. We are on the island of Ridgeback on the Wisconsin side of the river.”
“The Mississippi?”
“That's right. We thought that this was the safest place to go. The only way for dinosaurs to get onto this island is to cross a single bridge or to swim. There are some really huge dinosaurs out there.”
“Have you seen them?”
“Oh yeah. Way too close for comfort.”
“Mm. Do you have any idea what happened to me?”
“Not sure. The people who found you thought you were hit by lightning, but I didn't see any signs of that on you, so I am not sure what really happened to you.”
“Mm. Any idea of how we got to this place?”
“We were hoping that you might be able to tell us.”
“I have no idea. I do know that being out for seven days has made me hungry. Is a meal possible?”
“Of course. I will have June bring you a plate of food. Anything that you are allergic to that you can remember?”
“No, I don't think so.”
“I suggest that you stay here and rest for another day at least. Try to move around though. Do you think that you could stand up?”
“I think so.” With Karen's help he managed to stand although his legs were wobbly. Karen led him out of the camper and to a lawn chair that was outside.
“Look up there.” Karen pointed to two large bird-like creatures high above the river valley. “Pterodactyls,” she explained. “I will be back to check on you later.” Karen left him staring at the creatures circling high overhead in the cloudless blue sky as people started gathering around him as if he were a celebrity.
*****
Joe was alerted to a fight that had broken out across the camp. By the time that he got there, Jerry Comlin had separated the two women who were screaming at each other at the top of their lungs.
“What is going on here?” Joe demanded.
“She stole my lawn chair, and I want it back,” yelled Mrs. Jurkowitz.
“I'm no thief,” Mrs. Pearl yelled back. She pointed at the chair in dispute. “That is my chair, and I don't steal. How dare you call me a thief.”
“Well if the shoe fits...”
“Why, you bitch!”
“Mine walked away, and it just so happens, it looks just like this one? This one is mine, you rotten lying thief.”
“Ladies, ladies, please calm down,” requested Joe. “Can anyone vouch for this being your chair?” Joe asked Mrs. Pearl who was in possession of the chair.
“No, I just got the chair.”
“Do you have a receipt for it?”
“No, I don't have a receipt. I didn't buy it.”
“See, she stole it,” yelled Mrs. Jurkowitz.
“I got it from my son just a week ago. It was his, but he didn't want it anymore. He's not here though, he lives over in Madison.”
“Liar! You tell a story you think that we can’t check on.”
“It's the truth.”
“You stole it from me. That's where you got it. Just admit it and give it back.”
“Did your chair have any distinguishing marks on it?” Joe asked Mrs. Jurkowitz as he noticed scratches on the back leg. Joe thought he an easy way to solve the case.
“No,” said Mrs. Jurkowitz. Joe looked at Mrs. Pearl who shook her head. Joe felt he wasn’t so smart after all.
“Wait. I think I have a picture of it. That would prove that the chair is mine.”
“Go get it,” said Joe.
Mrs. Pearl went into her camper, and Joe had to tolerate Mrs. Jurkowitz berating Mrs. Pearl during the ten minutes it took until Mrs. Pearl reappeared. She came out with a photo album. She flipped through the pages and then pointed at one of the pictures. “See, there is my son sitting on this chair. I took that picture a couple of weeks ago. This proves that this is my chair.”
Joe looked at the picture. It certainly looked like it was the same chair. The picture didn’t prove she didn't steal the chair; it only proved that her son had a chair like the one in dispute. But it seemed likely to be the truth. “This is Mrs. Pearl's chair as she said,” he declared.
“But then who took my chair?” asked Mrs. Jurkowitz.
“I don't know who took your chair, but it wasn't Mrs. Pearl,” Joe told her.
“You owe me an apology,” demanded Mrs. Pearl.
“Oh, screw you!” Mrs. Jurkowitz yelled as she turned and left in a huff.
Joe took in a deep breath and sighed. Was there going to continue to be a problem between these two? He noted to himself that the general issue of stealing was going to need to be addressed by the council.
*****
After a quick visit with the Professor, Karen went to dinner and ate with Joe, the kids and Joe's parents. Afterward, Joe and Karen moved over to another table where the other council members were finishing up their meal. Joe told the council about the incident of the “stolen chair.”
“We have to deal with the issue of what do we do about people caught stealing. It is just a fact of human nature that if you get enough people together, some are going to take what is not theirs,” said Sheriff Burser.
“And with so much stuff out loose around the campers, it just makes it more likely that some things are going to be snatched,” added Roger.
“First, we tell everyone to mark all their stuff that don't want stolen,” suggested Joe.
“That will help a lot. But there will still be cases of theft. Some just have sticky fingers,” commented Sheriff Burser.
“What do we do about it when we conclude that someone is guilty?” asked Joe. “Any ideas?”
“I don't think that we should be the jury,” stated Karen.
“You don't want a bunch of morons from out there being the jury. Do you?” Mr. Span challenged.
“You mean the ones that voted for you?” Roger responded.
Mr. Span sneered.
“I agree with Karen. I think a jury that doesn't include us should decide guilt or innocence,” said Joe. “Where do you stand on this issue, Sheriff?”
“These people are not stupid. But I have seen a lot of juries let guilty people go free. I have to say that I would like the jury decisions to rest in our hands.”
They voted and by a 4-3 vote, they were to be the jury in any trial. Joe and Karen hoped that it was rare that they would have to resort to a trial.
Sheriff Burser brought the conversation back to that subject of punishment. That conversation lasted for well over an hour without a proposal reaching the support of a majo
rity of the council.
“That's it!” exclaimed an exacerbated Mr. Span after his only proposal was shot down. “I’m tired. Meeting is adjourned.” He got up and left. Everyone else watched him walk out, and then they stayed a minute longer to say goodnight to each other.
Joe and Karen went and got James and Robbie from Joe's parents and took them back to their camper. A solar powered garden light worked nicely as a nightlight. Kept in a window it powered back up with the day's sunlight. Joe got them into their pajamas and read to them Green Eggs and Ham by Dr. Seuss. Afterward, Joe took them into the camper and tucked them in to their bunks. Joe gave them each a good night kiss and left. Karen stayed and sang a lullaby to them. Joe listened from the outside to sweet sound of her voice in the quiet night air.
*****
Later that evening, Karen was called to emergency duty once again. Emma, John's wife, went into labor. After six hours of labor, Emma gave birth at four in the morning to a beautiful baby girl. John was with her the entire time and Nurse Ellie Pharson was there much of the time to help keep Emma as comfortable as possible. Karen popped in intermittently until Emma was fully dilated. She then stayed until little Angelina Karen was born. They weighed the new baby on a postal scale – seven pounds even. The birthing was very rough on Emma. There were no drugs that Karen could give her for the pain and there was plenty of that. John took the brunt of the cursing that Emma shouted. It was his fault that she got pregnant – what was he thinking having a baby at a time like this. John took it all, giving a lot of “yes, dear” and “I'm sorry, dear” remarks.
Karen was painfully aware of how lucky she was that there were no complications. She had no anesthetic and if she had to perform an emergency operation, the conditions would be woefully non-sterile. She had a limited supply of antibiotics. When she would be forced to do surgery, and it was not a matter of if, would be rough on the patient and dangerous. She dreaded she would eventually have to perform surgery on a young child, unless they could be miraculously rescued first.
Chapter 21
Karen was very tired the next morning, but she had patients to check on. So, she got up instead of sleeping longer as she desperately wanted to do. She needed to check on Emma and Angelina, the Professor and several elderly members of the community that were not doing too well and also needed attention.
Emma and little Angelina were doing fine. Even the father had recovered. Emma couldn't recall most of what she had said during labor, and John pretended he couldn't either. Many people were stopping in to see the baby and to congratulate the parents. All agreed that Ridgeback's first baby was beautiful, and all were thankful the baby and Emma were healthy.
Before continuing, Karen went to the cafeteria area for a quick breakfast of dino-bacon and scrambled eggs. She was told that they were the last of the fresh chicken eggs for a while since any new eggs laid by the island's chickens were going to be allowed to hatch to increase the flock size. She continued with her rounds, and being particularly worried about Jim Durst as he was losing weight, she went to check on him next. At age 82, weight loss was not a good sign. His blood pressure was low, and his heartbeat was irregular. She pricked his finger, smeared the spot of blood onto a slide and went to peer at it under a microscope brought over from the high school. It appeared that his white blood cell count was high, probably a bacterial infection if she was right about the white blood cell count. She worried about the fact that they had a limited supply of antibiotics and about the reality that Jim Durst was not likely to live much longer under the conditions on the island no matter what she did. She had taken an oath a long time back and meant it, so she had to help him if she could. She gave him his first dose of penicillin and instructed June as to when to give him the next dose. She looked around his camper as she left. He somehow had the luck to get a new mid-sized camper all to himself. She wondered how that happened. He was probably the lucky recipient of the confusion of the move.
After a couple of more stops, Karen finally arrived at the Professor's camper. It was a few minutes after ten o'clock and it was her last stop of the morning. The Professor was sitting in a chair outside of the camper when she arrived.
“Good morning, Professor.”
“Good morning, Karen.” He was one of only two of her patients, the other being Jacky, that didn't call her Doctor or Doc.
“I am glad to see you are getting out and getting some sun on your own. How are you feeling today?”
“That is a great question. Physically, I'm feeling good and most of my memory seems to have come back in the night. I can remember most of what I couldn't before except for the last two days before I blacked out.”
“That's great!”
“I guess, but what I now remember leads me to believe that I may be responsible for everyone being here.”
“What do you mean, Professor?”
The Professor collected himself before beginning. “Well, as I told you yesterday, I was working on a new version of M-theory. That is a theory whose goal is to unite gravity with its effects on the biggest phenomenon in the universe such as the big bang with the subatomic phenomenon described by quantum mechanics. At that time my group was working on new equations that described hidden dimensions that have been undetected up to now. We couldn't detect them because they are rolled up into sub-atomic sizes so small that we did not have instruments with the ability to detect them. About three and a half years ago, we finished up the equations that we thought tied those laws together. We published our work, but it was controversial. In other words, everyone else thought our theory was crap. But we believed we might be right, so we stuck with our theory and refined it. Usually you want to avoid making your theory more complicated, but for us to get those equations to work, we had to add an integral that approaches infinity in the descriptions for three of the extra dimensions. Am I making sense so far?”
“Oh, totally, Professor. I’m with you all the way,” Karen lied.
“When we did that, it made everything fit, and more importantly, it pointed to a way that we could test our theory. We could see that the equations pointed to a way to detect the extra dimensions. My two post-docs and I spent the next two and a half years building, testing, trouble-shooting and tuning a machine that could briefly uncurl and stretch a hidden dimension into supra-atomic size just long enough to make a few measurements and prove that it exists. In the lab, we called this instrument the SEAD; that stands for Subatomic Extra-dimensional Angular Detector. Finally, after all the hard work and all the ridicule we suffered, we had success in our hands. We had the machine working and that was big stuff in our minds. We were thinking Nobel Prize. But we were also wary and didn't want to end up like those guys claiming to have discovered cold fusion. Carl Sagan used to have a saying. Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence. After another six months of testing, we were convinced that what we were seeing was real and not just some strange artifact or set of artifacts that would make us look like a bunch of fools. A couple of weeks ago I called a friend of mine, Professor Gerjonsi, at the University of Minnesota, and told him about our results. We agreed that I would come up and show him the SEAD and demonstrate it in his lab for verification before we published. That was where I think I was headed when I came through here. I don't remember leaving Michigan, but I remember making the plans for the trip. The SEAD comes in three parts and each would fit in a box the size of a large suitcase. It was our plan that I would transport the SEAD to Minnesota and set it up there. I don't know why I would have had the SEAD running that evening when I stopped here and, even more so, I don't understand how it could have transported this town into a different brane. However, there is just too much coincidence in all of this for it not to be. This has to somehow be connected to my instrument.”
“I really didn't follow any of that,” admitted Karen. “What is a brane? You said we were in a different brane.”
“That is what you might call a parallel or alternate universe. Our theory states that es
sentially every time there is a possibility of two different outcomes to an event, both happen with the universe splitting in two, one universe following one possibility, and the other following the second possibility. I and some other physicists refer to each of these as a brane, others call them a verse.”
“A different brane or verse is where we are then.”
“Yes. Some refer to all the possible universes as the multiverse or the polyverse. On the sub-atomic level those splits happen so often that there should be, if the theory is right and it appears that it is, an almost infinite number of branes or verses. Many of these you would not be able to distinguish from our own because it would only differ by the spin of an electron in a single atom somewhere in the universe. If we were transported to such a brane we wouldn't know the difference. If you could add up all the branes together, they would represent every possibility that ever existed. The one we seem to be in is a universe where the dinosaurs survived the impact of an asteroid or one where the asteroid somehow missed the earth.”
“You know, Professor, I must confess I didn’t really understand almost anything of what you just said. But what everyone really wants to know is can you get us out of here? You know, home?”
“I wish I knew. First, I can't remember what happened that night.”
“With amnesia, missing memories often return with a little time.”
“And I don't yet understand why the SEAD would have caused an interbrane translocation.”
“A what? Never mind. With time you might understand it. You seem like a very smart man, Professor. If anyone can figure it out, it will be you.” Karen was trying to be supportive, resting her hope on this man to get them back.
The Professor ignored the compliment. “In addition, did anyone even bring over the SEAD? I can't duplicate it here and without it there is no chance at all.”
Her heart sank. What were the chances that it was still intact? “I will check on that immediately,” she promised anyway. “What are we looking for?”