Away Saga

by Norman Oro

  Not surprisingly, the new findings generated a lot of discussion. Representative Gidsen noted that they could be used to get the government to reopen US-395. Professor Marshall agreed, only cautioning that the results were still exceedingly preliminary. Like Dr. Rys before him, he wanted to get his ducks in a row before going public with what he’d found. It was then when he broached the possibility of bringing someone else into their circle. Still instinctively wanting to shield Kate Minon, he framed it as a hypothetical: If a human element driving naturally occurring instances of teleportation were identified, should that person be invited to join their effort to resolve US-395? The ensuing debate lasted for a few hours.

  On the one hand, they’d all taken great pains to keep their work from being compromised and turned into something terrible. No one wanted to get sloppy just as they were nearing their goal. Counterbalancing their prudence, however, was the fact that, quite simply, they were all growing older. Dr. Marshall, always considered the kid in the group, was seventy-three years old; Representative Gidsen and Guy Pool were both seventy-seven. If they wanted to bring Dr. Rys and his son back in their lifetimes, they couldn’t waste time. A lot would depend, of course, on the person’s trustworthiness and indispensability to the project, but ultimately the consensus was that such a person should be invited into the group. Along those lines, they also agreed to vigorously pursue the newly discovered organic equivalent to field generator technology. With a nod toward their original work in Pueblo, they named the project “Highway 1”.

  Dr. Marshall spent a significant part of the next several months attempting to build a quantitative model of sending via naturally occurring field activity. He made some progress with most of the findings confirming his earlier intuition. What he posited as being instances of teleportation were in fact about fifty percent more likely to occur during the late-evening or early-morning hours of at least one of the two event locations. He also confirmed that although low-level ambient field activity did mirror population patterns, the high-intensity events associated with probable instances of teleportation didn’t. In six months of number-crunching and sifting through data, he wasn’t able to identify any variables that predicted their occurrence.

  Though he was devoting more time to Highway 1, Professor Marshall was still very much engaged in teaching and research at UC Santa Barbara in 2009. As usual, he attended the spring commencement ceremonies to see off his students. Included among them that year was Kate Minon. In addition to officially becoming Dr. Minon, her dissertation on new applications for quantum entanglement was well received and slated to be published in the journal Science. Furthermore, based on whispers emanating from the physics department grapevine, an associate professorship at UC Santa Barbara was all but hers for the taking. Kate Minon’s was the final class Professor Marshall advised on their dissertations and in his eyes, he couldn’t have ended that part of his career on a brighter note. As for his impending retirement, he planned to hold seminars on quantum mechanics in the 2009-2010 academic year, but that was it. Most of his time would be devoted to his research in Carpinteria.

  Despite the growing importance of studying organic field activity, Dr. Marshall continued his work on the orbital detector system. Vela 6A lifted off that June to reveal the northernmost Americas and much of the Pacific Ocean. With all six of the detectors slated to go into geostationary orbit hovering in the skies, Allen field activity for the entire world was visible except for the extreme polar regions. Though it was still striking, Vela 6A’s telemetry followed form. Most Allen field activity mirrored land-based population centers and averaged 0.2 on the Maytag Index. As for the Earth’s oceans, activity was particularly strong around the shores of Hawaii, British Columbia, Washington, Oregon and Alaska.

  Aside from its scientific value, Professor Marshall had looked forward to Vela 6A’s launch for another, more personal reason. Most people who saw the field telemetry found it engrossing and Dr. Marshall was no exception. With data for most of the world now streaming in, often he sat down in the office just to look at the Earth’s field activity on the large flat-screen monitor. It was difficult to explain, but it went beyond aesthetics. If he were asked, he’d say it felt somehow reassuring seeing the world’s field activity.

  Highway 1

  The end of 2009 found Dr. Marshall continuing his push to better understand ambient field activity. Since the very first field detector was built four years earlier, he’d improved on the device significantly. The newest generation of detectors was an order of magnitude more accurate than its predecessors not only in terms of pinpointing field activity, but also in measuring it. Because of this, instead of running the usual battery of satellite diagnostics to prepare for Vela 1B’s January 7th launch, he decided to use the detector to research naturally occurring field activity. Normally, multimeter in hand, he’d be busy methodically checking the detector’s circuitry, its interface with the solar panels that would power it and its data-link to the transmitter that would ultimately beam its telemetry to Earth. However, given the push towards developing the organic counterpart to field generator technology, Professor Marshall had other things to consider.

  Despite advances, the new detectors did have their limitations. Although the Series B satellites would cover the globe in unprecedented detail, including the extreme northern and southern regions, they wouldn’t be able to provide continuous telemetry. Vela 1B, for example, would fly over a given region only once about every twelve hours. Consequently, the new, more detailed readings would be refreshed only once every twelve hours. The inability of the detector to provide continuous high-resolution telemetry once in orbit, combined with the fact that he was ahead of schedule, made the decision fairly easy to temporarily deploy it in the Field Technologies lab instead. Rather than sitting in a satellite housing awaiting launch, Dr. Marshall could use the device for at least a few days to provide high-resolution telemetry of ambient field activity around Carpinteria.

  After carefully filling the three-foot tall detector with the water-based solution he’d used for the original prototype, he plugged it into the wall, turned it on and watched as the innumerable particulates within it began glowing and whirling into motion. He then connected it to his laptop, which showed an aerial view of the Field Technologies office complex. Once again, he saw familiar specks of activity blinking onto and off the screen. Everything on average was around 0.2 on the Maytag Index. Unfortunately, the improved detector didn’t seem to reveal anything new there. He sat for about an hour, just looking at the telemetry. On a whim, he adjusted the map to display activity at or below 0.1 on the Maytag Index. The screen cleaned up a bit with the specks of Allen field activity now disappearing more quickly. At least that was something possibly useful to know: It seemed that fields usually appeared then intensified rather than materializing at full strength. On a whim, he halved the threshold once again, down to 0.05. The map cleared up even further with the flickering specks of activity all but gone. Finally, he decided to halve it one more time, down to 0.025. Interestingly, there were once again fields everywhere, ones that hadn’t registered before. However, these fields seemed to be less ephemeral. Nothing was blinking into then out of existence. The 0.025 fields were just there. This was definitely new. Looking at the shimmers of light on the laptop screen, he also noticed that they sometimes moved. Almost like a dot of light from one of those laser pointers that some of his colleagues had grown so fond of using in their lectures. Completely absorbed by what he was looking at, he glanced at the clock and saw it was already half past three in the afternoon. He needed to get lunch. Begrudgingly, he pulled himself away from the computer, got up and headed across the street to get a sandwich. On his way, he scanned the landscape around him, mulling over what those field sources could’ve been. Hoping he didn’t appear too foolish, he craned his neck around trying to identify them. The power lines? Automobiles? Watches? Mobile phones?

  Setting it aside as he got to the restaurant, he ordered a pastrami san
dwich, some potato chips and a drink to-go then walked back to the office, taking in the late afternoon weather. It was a bit cloudy and on the cool side, but otherwise pleasant. Walking into the lab and sitting down behind his laptop once again, he saw the same points of activity still milling around on the screen. He then accessed the archive and replayed the previous hour’s worth of 0.025 level telemetry to see if he’d missed anything. Eating his sandwich, he painstakingly went through each minute of archived telemetry and compared what he saw to landmarks he knew of around the area. He still couldn’t find anything that identified what the field sources were. They seemed to be everywhere. Having passed a couple of hours without much to show for it, Dr. Marshall then decided to take a different tack. Reasoning that nearby field sources would be easier to identify, he zoomed in a bit further, focusing specifically on the Field Technologies section of the office complex. Re-running the hour-long telemetry, he saw the same dots of light he’d seen before. However, this time he noticed that one of the dots on the screen was roughly where his lab would be on the map. Replaying the archived telemetry once again, he watched as the dot moved out of the lab, traveled down where the stairs would be and out across the street to a local strip mall. It stayed in one of the buildings there for about fifteen minutes, milling around with a few other points of light and then returned to the lab. Immediately, he looked for his mobile phone. He’d left it in his car. He didn’t wear a watch. Huh. So, that was it. Human beings generated Allen fields.

  At this, Professor Marshall could only laugh. It wasn’t only because of what he’d discovered. He also laughed good-naturedly at himself, realizing that the answer he’d sought had literally been staring out at him the entire time he was toiling away, peering into his laptop’s monitor. People were field sources. Somehow that tied into the more powerful ambient field activity that existed in and around the Earth’s cities. And as for the world’s oceans, perhaps those spots of light indirectly corresponded to dolphins or whales. His mind was already racing through what it all could mean, instinctively seeking patterns and relationships; wondering how, for example, the Allen fields generated by people might be related to some of the puzzling telemetry they’d recorded over fifty years earlier working on US-395. He also wondered how it related to the likely instances of teleportation he’d been analyzing. It was an effort, but he just did manage to slow down and collect himself. Looking at the clock, he saw it was already past nine in the evening. Resisting the urge to stay, to keep going, to follow through and immediately build on the latest series of findings, he reminded himself that what he found would still be there the next day. As he prepared to leave, he saw the telemetry with new eyes. He stood in the lab just before departing and watched the few remaining dots of light that were still onscreen wind down their days, walk out to the parking lot and head home.

  Dr. Marshall didn’t sleep very much that night and was in the lab early the next morning reviewing telemetry. He confirmed that the existing Vela satellites couldn’t detect anything below 0.09 on the Maytag Index. Running some numbers, he then estimated that even when the newest generation of detectors were in orbit, they wouldn’t be able to go much below 0.05. As a result, the next several days would be his last chance for at least a few months to research low-intensity field activity. He updated the list of hypotheses he’d wanted to study using the detector and then went about methodically examining each one. After several hours, he heard the alarm go off on his mobile phone with a reminder that he had an early afternoon lunch with Professor Minon at a nearby restaurant. Coincidentally, it was almost a year to the day since her visit to the Field Technologies office and the 0.9 event that ultimately led to the research he was doing. He decided to leave the detector on and left his mobile phone in the lab. It never hurt to check. It was still a bit cool outside, so he grabbed his jacket then walked out across the street to the restaurant.

  He was a few minutes early, but was pleasantly surprised to see her already there waiting for him. They took the table they’d reserved and in a few minutes the waiter came for their orders. Professor Marshall hadn’t eaten all day, so he chose a hamburger and fries. Dr. Minon ordered a salad. It was a nice lunch. They started by talking about how she was acclimating to teaching at UC Santa Barbara. She received job offers from most of the high-profile physics programs in the country including both of Dr. Marshall’s alma maters. She confided in him once how difficult the decision was. Having been in a similar situation himself many years earlier, all he advised was that she couldn’t possibly lose. Though the thought of teaching alongside her father at Harvey Mudd was tempting, ultimately she chose UCSB. Happily, a few months into the job, she had absolutely no regrets. Their conversation then segued to her research. Specifically, she wanted his advice regarding a project of hers. As she walked him through her work, it was one of those instances when Dr. Marshall found himself almost literally enchanted by Professor Minon. Her beauty, intellect, voice and accent all combined at times to nearly mesmerizing effect. Nonetheless, having been fortunate enough to have married a woman of comparable charms, he was able to stay on point to advise her.

  Once their meal was finished, the conversation then turned for about an hour to the seminars he was teaching that year and his retirement. Professor Marshall never knew it, but apparently the rumor had floated around the physics department for decades that he was somehow immensely wealthy. If he’d known, it might’ve amused him. However, he simply talked about spending more time doing research at his company, his well-known love of surfing and helping out with his wife’s philanthropic activities. By the time lunch wound down, it was already past mid-afternoon. Aside from its staff, the restaurant was empty. There was a mild squabble over who would pay and they decided to split the tab. Escorting Professor Minon back to her car, she shared a story with him about some fireflies she’d once seen when she was at boarding school. She told him how beautiful she found them. Taking her story at face value and having once seen some lightning-bugs himself as a little boy, Dr. Marshall just smiled and nodded. Once they reached her car, they wished one another a good new year and parted company.

  When he got back to the lab, he went to his computer and began looking through archived telemetry from his lunch-break. Zooming in on the Field Technologies office, he again saw himself. About ten minutes into the replay, he saw his speck of light leave the lab at around a quarter to two in the afternoon. Passing other spots of luminescence walking along the sidewalk and driving along the street in their cars, he watched his dot cross the street to enter a building full of many other shiny dots. The maitre d’, their waiter, the group of graduate students waiting for a table, the young couple seated off near the window speaking French with one another; they were all there. So far, so good. It was then, though, when things took an unexpected turn. Watching the telemetry, it was as if he’d entered the restaurant, waited then sat at his table alone. Uncertain of what he just saw, he re-ran that section of the archive a couple of times and witnessed the same thing each time. Everyone he remembered was there except Kate Minon.

  Professor Marshall at first thought it must’ve been a glitch. Dr. Minon had to be there. He carefully reviewed the telemetry for over three hours; however, he couldn’t find any trace of field activity for her. Their lunch, their conversation, their walk to her car, it was as if he were alone the entire time. Baffled, he halved the energy threshold once again to 0.0125, near the detector’s limit, and re-ran the telemetry. Looking at the screen, he saw no activity at all, neither Dr. Minon’s nor anyone else’s. When he finally glanced at the clock on the computer monitor, he saw it was once again past nine in the evening. He’d made a healthy dent in his list of hypotheses, but only had a few days before he’d have to begin installing the detector into its satellite housing. Intuitively, he felt that Professor Minon’s absence from the telemetry corroborated her connection to the apparent instances of teleportation that Vela had detected. At a more visceral level, though, he found it strangely troubling that
she generated no field activity. He stayed in the lab for another hour before leaving, watching telemetry and varying filter settings, trying to find her.

  With the January 7th launch date for Vela 1B looming, Dr. Marshall got into the Field Technologies lab just before sunrise the next day. Deciding to try a different approach, he hypothesized that, like eye color or hair color, each person’s Maytag Index was perhaps subject to variation. An analogy would’ve been an explorer from a cloistered settlement in the Middle Ages happening upon a town in Sweden and deducing that the Earth’s population was mostly light-complected with light-colored eyes. Given the circumstances, that would’ve been a reasonable, yet faulty, conclusion. He wondered whether perhaps Carpinteria was such a place, an outlier in the data. Setting aside a couple of days to research the issue, he jerry-rigged the field detector to run off of his Wagoneer’s electrical system and carefully loaded it into the Jeep’s cargo area. He then spent that entire day and most of the following one gathering field telemetry around Santa Barbara and Los Angeles. Conducting a statistical analysis of the data, Professor Marshall confirmed that essentially everyone generated the same 0.025 level field. He’d even taken readings from a few local sporting events. Comparing what he’d recorded to attendance records, he found no exceptions. Everyone was accounted for in the telemetry.