Well, whatever. Being less disappointed than expected wasn’t exactly nefarious behavior.
“That’s okay, I understand. I’m a lot more worried about the field trip. I saw the news about the road melting.” Matt held up his hands in a warding-off motion as Erin took a breath to argue. “Yeah, yeah, I know. It happens. It’s not unusual. You’ve told me. And I concede that you are the expert. Sorry, still worried. You’re sure—”
“Not dangerous, Matt. Really. At least no more dangerous than at any other random time. I explained about magma movement and all that. This is like crossing the street. There’s some danger every time you do it.”
“Yeah.” He grinned at her. “And I still think a nice, cushy desk job—”
“Not going to happen, bud. Now, I’ll see you tomorrow night, okay?”
Matt shrugged and kissed her, then turned and headed down the hallway. Come to think of it, his gait was a little faster than seemed appropriate. Almost like he had somewhere to be.
2. A Meeting of Minds
Bill Rustad looked up as Matt ambled to the table. “Hey, Matt. You don’t look terribly beat up. I guess Erin wasn’t too angry at being blown off?”
“No, as it turns out, she took it well. I’ll live to see another day. Do we have time to eat?”
Bill looked at his watch. “Um, maybe we should eat when we get to Dempsey’s. Better food anyway.”
“There’s an understatement,” Matt said.
“What? I am offended on behalf of the Dining Center. Why, they have some of the best … No, forget it, they suck.” Bill grinned at his friend. “Burgers it is.”
“Someday, you’re going to have to start paying some attention to your diet, O pudgy one.”
Bill patted his stomach. “That’s your opinion.”
Matt shrugged without reply, and Bill gathered his books and papers. As he vacated the table, another group slid smoothly in to take possession.
The university cafeteria ecosystem, Bill thought with an amused shake of the head. I’m surprised they haven’t monetized table-minutes yet.
Dempsey’s was only a short walk from the campus, but Bill was breathing hard and beginning to sweat by the time they arrived. He kept his silence but resolved to get off his ass more often. Fortunately, Matt wasn’t one of those people who was inclined to gloat.
Bill looked around as they entered the pub, his eyes struggling to adjust to the change in light levels. He caught a wave out of the corner of his eye and turned toward the table where Richard Nadeski and someone else were sitting. Bill tried to keep his face straight, but any way you looked at it, this was going to be interesting. He and Richard had one of those hate-hate relationships, so Bill had been very surprised to receive the invitation.
And to be fair, Bill’s constant needling probably didn’t help.
Bill appraised the two men at the table as he approached. Richard he already knew, of course. They’d been frenemies for years. Built like a fullback, despite seemingly never doing any exercise, Richard made even Matt look scrawny, and that was saying something. Fortunately, despite his size and temper, Richard never seemed to consider violence as an option. Just as well.
The other guy was short, glasses, bad haircut, bad posture. Pretty much an anti-Richard. That the two were hanging out together screamed science project.
“Hey, big guy,” Bill said as he grabbed a chair and sat down. “Quite the mysterious email. I admit to being intrigued. Any chance aliens are involved?”
Both Richard and Matt rolled their eyes in unison, then both chuckled as they noticed the synchronicity. Richard reached out a hand to Matt. “Nice to know it’s not just me. I’m Richard, and I guess you’re the computer genius Bill promised to bring.”
Bill noticed Matt sizing Richard up. Most people would miss the quick once-over, but Bill and Matt had been friends for like forever, and Bill had seen it many times. A lifetime of competitive martial arts meant that Matt couldn’t help evaluating potential opponents. Richard was bigger, but Matt was harder. A bout would be epic, but Bill would put his money on Matt.
The moment passed, and Matt nodded. “Yep. And I agree with Bill about the email. Something about some really oddball software and hardware requirements?”
Bill waved both hands. “Whoa, gents. Priorities.” He signaled to a waitress. “Food first, then reality.”
The fourth member of the party spoke without looking up. “That may not be as easy as you think.”
“What, food or reality?” Bill asked.
Richard leaned forward to forestall an argument. “Guys, this is Kevin Jahani, the other half of our applied physics project. The more important half, honestly. Kevin has developed some theories about time and probability that are way ahead of current thinking. Kevin, Bill is the engineering guy I was telling you about. He was on the team that won the Rube Goldberg competition this year.”
Kevin glanced in Bill’s direction, and Bill thought he looked a little embarrassed, either at his comment or the introductions. Or maybe both. Kevin appeared to be the type of alpha geek who rarely came up for air long enough to develop social skills. Pfft. Like I should talk. I spend my free time painting D&D miniatures.
Bill leaned back in his chair and absently looked around the dimly lit pub as the waitress took their orders. Dempsey’s was less than half full, not surprising for a pub that depended on university students for most of its business. It was summer session at the University of Nebraska at Lincoln, and the population was down to a fraction of spring-session levels. Small groups of customers had spaced themselves evenly around the pub for maximum privacy. The background buzz of conversation didn’t quite drown out the big TV showing a baseball game.
The waitress having disappeared to wherever waitstaff go, it was time to get down to business. Bill looked at Richard. “Now, next item. Mysterious email. Give.”
Seriously? Parallel universes? Bill thought, his burger halfway to his mouth.
At the same moment, Matt said, “Seriously? Parallel universes?”
Richard pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “Well, no, not in the usual science fiction sense. When we say alternate world-lines, we’re talking about probability paths—”
“—through a six-dimensional spacetime,” added Kevin.
“Okay, Kevin, I’ll bite,” Bill said. “Why not ten or eleven dimensions?”
“Uh, this isn’t string theory. Any curled-up dimensions wouldn’t—”
“Chrissake, can we focus, please?” Richard sat back and looked around the table. “Okay, here it is. We are attempting to put together a physics experiment to test Kevin’s theoretical models about the nature of the universe and probability space. Without getting into details, Kevin believes that time is three-dimensional, and that the extra dimensions are where quantum uncertainty manifests.”
“That’s way oversimplifying,” Kevin complained.
“I know, Kevin, but I’m a physics major and I barely understand it. These guys need the pop-sci version.” Richard made an apologetic face to Bill and Matt.
Bill slouched back in his chair and listened as Richard explained the details. The theory—and Richard’s plain-English translation—contained a lot of handwavium, but the basic concept sounded interesting. This project could even end up being fun, in a nerdish kind of way. Certainly, the technical requirements were challenging, based on discussions so far.
The waitress showed up with more beer and Matt’s burger—the one he’d ordered this time. Matt smiled and thanked her. The waitress apologized again and looked like she was going to start flirting. Richard’s glare and curt “Thank you” sent her off with a blistering look over her shoulder. Typical Richard—all the tact of an angry bear.
Bill watched this byplay with wry amusement. As usual, he envied the way girls always seemed to throw themselves at Matt; and as usual, he was a little ashamed of feeling that way. Matt had certainly put in the hours. Bill glanced down at his own slight paunch, shrugged, and took another bite o
f his burger.
Matt looked over and pointed to the side of his mouth. Bill frowned and wiped off a stray dollop of mustard.
A short period of silence descended as everyone attended to their meals. The aromas of cooked beef, caramelized onions, and vinegarized fries wafted around the table.
Matt paused in his task of burger destruction to take a sip of beer, then turned to Richard. “So, where do we come in?”
“Through the front door,” Bill said, before Richard could respond. “Same as everyone else.”
Matt laughed. “Ba-boom-tsssh!”
Richard sighed and visibly tried for patience. “We need,” he said, waving a French fry, “some control software for this experiment. Matt, Bill said you’re specializing in control systems, right? Linux-on-a-card and such? What we’re trying to do is too delicate for hardwiring and breadboarding. And the timing requirements are too precise for software. We need a firmware solution.”
Matt sat up straighter, a look of surprise on his face.
Hooked, by God, Bill thought. Well played, Richard.
Richard turned to Bill. “And you have a reputation as a bit of an artist when it comes to building weird-ass devices. Your engineering team’s Rube Goldberg entry, that was mostly you, wasn’t it? No one else on your team has done anything notable.”
Bill strained to keep a straight face. He was proud of the contraption that had won them first place, but Richard’s attempt at handling him was too transparent. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction, Bill waved his hand in a whatever gesture. “All right, you have our attention. But why all the mystery? You’ve been working on some project for like forever. Is this it? And why do you suddenly need help now?”
Richard and Kevin glanced at each other, and Kevin nodded slightly. Bill’s eyebrows went up. That was interesting—a decision had just been made, and it was Kevin who had made it. Was Richard the junior partner in this enterprise? It would mean that things were more complex than they already looked.
Richard scooted his chair forward, a sign that he was about to do some major revealing. “So here’s the thing. Our original project proposal a couple of semesters back was a good deal less ambitious. Yes, we were trying to validate some of Kevin’s theoretical predictions, but not to anything like the level we’re at now. It was a nice, safe, forgettable project, on paper. But things somehow turned out to be more … interesting than expected.”
“But that’s good, isn’t it?” Matt looked from one to the other. “Shouldn’t you be dancing a jig with your project advisor?”
Richard glared at him. “Keeting.”
There was a brittle silence for a moment before Bill replied, “Dude, I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah. Keeting. He’s at least five years past his expiry date, and all he cares about is dotting the T’s and crossing the I’s. If we go to him and tell him we’ve gone off-script, he’ll make us start over. Or worse, give us an incomplete. Screw that.”
“Plus,” Kevin added, “if he disqualifies our results, we lose any university protection. We can’t afford to have someone else take what we’ve done so far and run with it, maybe with a bigger budget and more people.”
Bill’s jaw dropped. “Someone might do that? It’s that big?”
“Based on results so far, maybe Nobel Prize level,” Kevin said. “But not if someone snakes us.”
Bill sat back, mind churning. Son of a bitch. Things were not just more complex but had definitely left ordinary way behind.
3. In the News
CNN Headlines at the top of the hour:
Seismic activity continues to increase in Yellowstone National Park. USGS representatives stress that this is not unprecedented, saying that Yellowstone gets dozens of small earthquakes every day and there have been hydrothermal explosions and volcanic gas discharges in the past. Spokesperson Andrew Kensington says, “It’s a long way from a bit of volcanic activity to an impending supervolcano explosion.”
In Washington, Republicans are loudly questioning if FEMA would have the resources to handle such an eruption. They point to budget cuts that have forced FEMA to eliminate programs and are demanding that the Democratic administration confirm it has a plan.
Democrats are quick to point out that the cuts to FEMA funding were all enacted by Republican administrations, and that FEMA would have a much more generous budget if the Republicans would stop blocking all attempts to give them one.
And the Discovery Channel has announced that it will be rerunning its Supervolcano series this week due to viewer demand.
4. Time Out
June 8
How the hell does he do that? Does he ever miss? Bill stood under the hoop, retrieving the basketball and tossing it back. Matt worked his way around the three-point circle, hitting basket after basket.
They had come to the gym during off-hours to get a bit of exercise. In Bill’s case, that consisted of retrieving the ball and returning it. He preferred it that way. He didn’t like exercise, and he was pretty sure it was mutual.
“I’m not a basketball scout, Matt, but I’ll bet the coach would be real interested in you.”
“Already had that conversation. They give you the spiel about having to eat, sleep, and breathe insert-your-sport-here, and my eyes glaze over. I’ve got my sport. Nothing else has ever hit me like mixed martial arts.”
“Bah-boom-tsh!”
Matt laughed. “Thank you, I’m here ’til Thursday. Try the veal.”
Bill did his best to look offended. “Dude, that’s my shtick. Do I go all Kung Fu on you?”
Matt grinned back at him and resumed sinking baskets. “Y’know, it wouldn’t hurt you. A martial arts class, I mean. Or basketball. Or something. I keep telling you, video games are not a valid form of exercise.”
“I’ve sat and watched some of your classes, Matt. I’d say it very definitely would hurt me. That seems to be the whole point of the classes.”
During a break, Bill brought up what had been on his mind all day. “This project with Richard and Kevin—does it seem a little out there to you?”
“A little? How about a lot out there? It’s one thing to talk about quantum computing, but this? The whole thing sounds like one of those B-movies you’re always watching. I’m surprised you’re not jumping for joy.”
“Well, you know, real life continues to disappoint me. I’ve been waiting my whole life and not one alien species has come to visit, not one monster from the deep has attacked New York or Tokyo, and not one evil mutant mastermind has destroyed the Golden Gate Bridge. Maybe we have planetary B.O.”
“Yeah, that must be it.” Matt did a couple of experimental dribbles, behind the back, through the legs, alternating hands.
Bill hesitated, choosing his words. “So, really, do you have a funny feeling about this project? Does it seem legit to you?”
“No, and they’ve as much as said so. Keeting, remember? I kind of feel sorry for them. They’ve got something genuinely interesting happening, and they have to sneak around to work on it.”
“Yeah, yeah, and it sounds like an interesting problem, at least to the extent I could understand what Richard was talking about. It’s funny how solicitous he is of Kevin. I don’t think he actually understands Kevin’s theory at all, and he doesn’t want to admit it. There’s some coattail riding going on here, I think.”
“He’s not the only one. Kevin might just be one of those geniuses that comes along once per generation. I get the impression he’s way out in front of current theory, even further than Richard said. So I’m good with a seat on this particular coattail.”
“Sounds great if this turns into something big. But if it all tanks, could we end up getting caught in the fallout? I mean, technically these guys have gone rogue.”
Matt laughed, then went silent and stared into space for a few seconds. “Possible in theory, I guess. But as long as we follow the rules from our end, I think we’ll be okay. Jeez, Bill, stop being a wuss.”
Matt planted his p
ivot foot and took a shot. Bill retrieved the ball and tossed it back. “Yeah, it’s all fun and games until someone loses a scholarship.”
5. Prepping
June 12
Professor Collins looked around the lecture hall for any more questions. Erin raised her hand, and he acknowledged her with a pointed finger.
“Professor, I wanted to ask quickly. With all the heightened activity at Yellowstone, will we be able to get close enough to observe any of it?”
“Depends what you mean by ‘close,’ Erin. Close enough to see? Sure. Close enough to take lava samples? Not a chance.” Professor Collins smiled. “The university would toss me into a lava flow if I endangered the students like that. Maybe you could pack some binoculars.”
Erin turned and grinned at Ayanda, and received an eye roll in response.
On the stage, the professor continued, “Now, just a reminder—as if you needed it—that we leave day after tomorrow. Not surprisingly, I wasn’t able to convince the university to spring for an all-expenses-paid trip to Sumatra for all of us to visit Toba.” He held up his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “So instead, we’ll have to settle for a junket to Yellowstone in a rattling death trap of a school bus.”
Several people in the audience laughed. Sounding a little panicked, one of the students piped up: “I thought we had a charter plane?”
“Just seeing if you’re paying attention, Ted.” The professor put a document up on the projector. “I’d like to thank everyone for having completed the paperwork early so I don’t have to come around and poke some of you with a stick. The university will be happy to know that you hold us blameless for anything that happens to you. And I do mean anything. Some lawyer financed his boat with that paperwork!
“We will be staying in the employee housing at Lake Village. Don’t expect luxury. For that matter, don’t expect beds. You’ll get air mattresses, and you’ll like it. We will be dividing into groups every day. There will be USGS staff leading you around and introducing you to the great big world of geology in a still-active volcano.”
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