"Have you tried calling her?" he inquired instead.
"VISAR says she's blocking calls. Probably sleeping it off."
"Oh… right. Okay."
They went over the office one more time and satisfied themselves that the notes were not there. "I'll have to go back to the Waldorf and get them," Danchekker said. "It shouldn't take too long. If I leave right away I'll be back before Eesyan's bit."
"Want me to come along, too?"
"No, Vic. This time I insist. It was my own stupidity. You go on over and explain what's happened. They're probably missing both of us by now."
"Okay, then. Catch you later." Hunt turned to leave.
"Oh. There is one thing you could do for me, though," Danchekker said.
Hunt checked himself. "What?"
Danchekker opened the briefcase again and took out a book with a red, cloth-bound cover. "Sandy asked me to give this to Duncan."
"Ko's autograph book?" Hunt said, recognizing it.
"Yes. Duncan said he'd try and get Calazar to put his in it."
"Oh, dear, it wouldn't do to forget that, would it? Okay, Chris, I'll pass it on."
"I would appreciate it."
Hunt flipped curiously through the pages as he went back out and along the corridor. The collection included an assortment of names from the entertainment world, some notable public figures, various artists and writers, and a number of news celebrities. A youngster with some initiative and energy, Hunt thought approvingly. He found the entry belonging to Bressin Nylek, First Officer of the Ishtar, and also the Ishtar's commander. Hunt wondered what Calazar's autograph might be worth back home in years to come.
He exited the tower about a hundred feet above ground on a g-conveyor that deposited him on the terrace outside the cafeteria two levels below the Multiporter, and went up to the lab area with the square chamber standing in its frame at the focus of the array of projector tubes. The machine was running. Hunt seemed to have arrived just at the completion of one of the demonstrations. Eesyan was taking questions from Calazar and his company, who were standing with some of the project scientists. Others, were scattered loosely in the general vicinity, including Sonnebrandt and Duncan, with Chien standing a short distance away, the total numbering perhaps twenty individuals. One of Calazar's company was speaking.
"Let's think ahead and assume that you do find a way of stabilizing a transported object. That means it will stop in some particular universe. It will have rematerialized there-unlike that whatever-it-was just now that was just traveling through."
"Yes," Eesyan agreed.
"Fine. But suppose the process is subject to some kind of positional error, such that it doesn't reappear in precisely the same corresponding place there? It might not be inside their detection chamber at all. Or it could be a universe so different from ours that it doesn't even have a chamber."
"That's possible."
The questioner sent around a quick appealing look that said this could be serious. "Then it could rematerialize inside solid matter. So what happens when you start sending larger objects than these little specks that you've been showing us? You'd have an explosion!"
"We plan to move the project off-planet and operate it remotely in space when we reach that phase," Eesyan said. "A scaled-up projector is being designed as we learn from this one."
"I hope that our neighbors in their other realities are equally considerate," one of the Thurien scientists remarked, which brought laughter.
"Does it have a name?" someone asked.
"We just call it MP2 at the moment," Eesyan said.
As Hunt began edging toward the three Terrans, he passed by Othan, who had met them at the Waldorf on their arrival there, and another of the technicians. They were muttering irascibly in a way that was strange for Thuriens.
"I wish you wouldn't keep repeating yourself, Othan. I'm really not deaf or slow, you know." VISAR automatically supplied any background that would normally be overheard. It seemed to be another part of the Thurien obsession for authenticity. Hunt had grown so used to it by now that it no longer registered as a translation.
"I am not repeating myself."
"Why do you deny it? I heard you perfectly well the first time. It's not as if…"
Hunt moved on and drew up beside Duncan. "How's it going?" he asked.
"They've transmitted a few molecular configurations. Now we're going to go to try some crystal structures."
"What was that about something passing through?"
"A bit of excitement. There might have been a transient of something coming in a few minutes ago. VISAR's analyzing the detector data now." Hunt raised his eyebrows. If confirmed, it would mean the fleeting trace of something passing through from parallel experiments being conducted in a nearby universe. There had been some previous instances but they were very rare.
"Did you and Chris find what you were looking for?" Sonnebrandt asked.
Hunt shook his head. "No luck. It was some notes of Sandy's that he was supposed to give Eesyan. He thinks he must have left them at the Waldorf. He's gone back there to get them."
At that moment, VISAR came in on the general-address channel. "Attention, please. A positive detection is confirmed. We have evidence of an object passing through from a different reality."
A ripple of murmurings and some applause went around. "Your visit here has been marked as auspicious," one of the scientists said, smiling, to Calazar. "Let's hope it's a good omen."
"I wonder if we've been considerate enough to send them one back," Calazar mused.
"Highly improbable, if my understanding is correct," one of Calazar's party said. Another of the scientists was interpreting further details from VISAR. Eesyan took the opportunity to detach himself and come over to where Hunt and the others were. At the same time, he was turning his head from side to side and looking puzzled.
"Where did Professor Danchekker go, Vic?" he asked. "He's supposed to have something that I'll be needing later."
"You mean some notes from Sandy?"
"Yes-on possible biological implications. It sounded interesting."
"It looks as if he left them at the Waldorf. He's gone back for them," Hunt said.
"Oh. Very well… I hope he won't be too long."
"I shouldn't think so. He's probably halfway there already."
Eesyan snorted. "Then he must be propagating through h-space. He was here just a moment ago."
Hunt frowned. "Chis? No."
"Sure he was, Vic. I saw him come in with you."
"You couldn't have. He left the tower at the same time I did, heading back into town."
Eesyan looked to Sonnebrandt and Duncan in appeal. "Gentlemen, tell me I'm not imagining things. Didn't Vic arrive here with Professor Danchekker a few minutes ago?" They looked at each other, then back, and shook their heads.
"Vic was on his own," Duncan said.
Chien, who was watching and had partly overheard, came closer. "Professor Danchekker was here," she said. "I saw him."
"There!" Eesyan proclaimed.
This was getting silly again. Sane, intelligent adults unable to agree on what was happening literally in front of their faces. "There's a simple way to settle this," he said. "There is obviously one person who ought to know where he is. VISAR, connect me through to Chris Danchekker."
"Yes, Vic?" Danchekker's voice responded in Hunt's head a few seconds later.
"This may sound like a strange question, Chris, but where are you exactly?"
"There's no need to be sarcastic. I'm on my way. I'm sorry I wasn't there when Calazar arrived, if that's what's bothering you. I was nearly there and then realized I'd forgotten some notes from Sandy that Eesyan needs, so I turned around and went back for them. Is that permissible, might I ask?"
Hunt faltered. The others with him, who were also tuned in, looked equally baffled. Danchekker wasn't making any sense. "Chris… what do you mean, you turned around and went back? You mean you were here and went back, yes?"
"But, Chris, I talked to you myself here, across in the tower."
"You're being absurd."
Chien came in. "Professor, Eesyan and I both saw you in the machine area too-which is where we are now. You came in with Doctor Hunt. But he insists he was alone."
"Then all I can say is that you're all living in different realities. I know where I am, for God's sake. And I'm just in the process of boarding a flyer again, in the roof-level lobby of the Waldorf." A view of the surroundings extracted from Danchekker's neural system and superposed as a window upon Hunt's visual field confirmed it.
It was all going from "strange" to plain crazy. They could go on arguing like this all day and get nowhere. Hunt struggled for some continuation. Then he remembered the autograph book that Danchekker had handed to him when they were in the tower. He ran his hand down over his jacket and felt its solid outline in his pocket.
"Chris," he said. "Bear with us. There's another thing. Ko's book. Sandy wanted you to give it to Duncan."
"The autograph book?"
"Yes."
Danchekker sounded surprised. "How did you know about that? You were already gone when Sandy gave it to me this morning. She told me that Duncan should have collected it from her last night."
"Never mind for now how I know," Hunt said. "But do you still have it?"
"Of course. It's in my briefcase, where I put it."
"Could you check that, Chris?… Please. It's important."
Muttered sounds came over the audio of Danchekker grumbling beneath his breath. The window appeared again, showing his hands opening the briefcase and searching among the contents. They found the red-bound autograph book and drew it out into view. "There," Danchekker's voice pronounced. "Is that satisfactory? And now may I ask what the purpose is of this melodramatic cross-examining and interrogation?"
For a moment, Hunt's mind seized up. Stunned, he drew the book from his pocket and stared at it to reassure himself. Yes, it was the same. He was even more stunned when Duncan, moving as if in some kind of trance, produced another one.
"I did collect it from Sandy last night!" Duncan said numbly.
***
Danchekker arrived around fifteen minutes later. Three copies of the book lay side by side. The ones from Hunt and Danchekker were identical. The one that Duncan had supplied contained in addition as its most recent entry the signature of Serge Kaleniek, the lead tenor of the Estonian choir visiting Thurien. Duncan had obtained it at breakfast in the Waldorf that morning. He had thought that Ko would be pleased.
So had Duncan collected the autograph book from Sandy the previous evening, or had she given it to Danchekker that morning? Hunt called her to find out what her version was. Her account tallied with Danchekker's: She had given the book to Danchekker that morning, but he had forgotten to pick up her notes for Eesyan. He had returned for them without reaching the Institute, and then departed again.
Everyone was still too shocked and befuddled to begin debating coherently what it all meant. But Hunt was hearing again the chance words that Danchekker had used earlier: "Then all I can say is that you're all living in different realities…" His thoughts went back to the bizarre conversation in the Happy Days parking lot on that memorable Saturday morning. "The main thing you need to know about is the convergences," his briefly appearing other self had said, and then never had the chance to elaborate.
The glimmer of a suspicion of what might be happening began forming in Hunt's mind. But he didn't say anything. He wasn't sure himself if he believed it yet.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
In his office atop the Advanced Sciences building at UNSA, Goddard, Gregg Caldwell chewed on the butt of a cigar while he scanned over the latest interim report from Hunt on one of his deskside display screens. It had been sent from Thurien on the day after Calazar's visit to the project. Hunt believed he had the germ of an explanation, but he was giving it time to consolidate more in his head before sounding out the reactions of the rest of the team. He didn't say what the explanation was.
"That's Vic: Keep us guessing," Caldwell muttered to himself as the anticipation that had been rising while he read down the page evaporated with the realization that it was the last. In the meantime, he didn't have the beginnings of a clue what to make of it. Senior scientists falling out over petty obstinacies that would shame adolescents; even Thuriens bickering among themselves; and now allegations of things that were flatly impossible. Caldwell seriously wondered if there might be something about the transition through h-space that could disorient Terran nervous systems to the extent of inducing hallucinations; or maybe some side effect of Thurien neuro-coupling technolgy. Terrans had only started using it recently, after all. He went as far as calling several names he knew in medical and psychological fields to see if they had heard of any such phenomena, but none of them had. Caldwell leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers absently while he frowned at the desk. He was still searching for an angle that seemed remotely plausible when the intercom tone sounded from Mitzi in the outer office. "Yes?" Caldwell acknowledged, straightening up.
"Nothing on the web, internal resource list, or the library net," she advised. "I also checked the Thurien link. Nothing there either."
"Okay." It was what Caldwell had been expecting by now. One of the thoughts that had crossed his mind was that something might be infecting VISAR in the way the Ents had infected JEVEX.
"And a Lieutenant Polk of the FBI called while you were talking to Doctor Norris."
"FBI? What have I done now?"
"He didn't say. Want me to get him back?"
"It's the only way we'll find out."
"And Weng's presentation that you said you wanted to hear is due to start in ten minutes."
"I'll be out as soon as I'm done."
"Fine. I'll let them know."
Mitzi cleared down. Caldwell retrieved the memo that had been circulated a few days previously from his Pending tray and glanced over it to refresh his memory. The presentation was titled, "What We Can Learn from The Prince." Its premise was that the books, seminars, studies, and policy guides attempting to devise effective management strategies for the miniature feudal states known as business corporations and administrative bureaucracies were largely a waste of time. Machiavelli had figured it all out five hundred years ago. An interesting concept.
The tone sounded again. "Lieutenant Polk," Mitzi's voice announced. The call appeared on one of Caldwell's free screens.
The face was of what appeared to be a heavy-set man in a white shirt and dark tie, smooth-shaven and fleshy, with beady eyes, hair combed back from a broad brow and receding at the temples, giving a moonish impression. Caldwell could almost imagine the flat feet, size 13.
"Mr. G. Caldwell?"
"This is he."
"Lieutenant Polk, Investigations Branch, Finance and Fraud Division." The voice was as neutral as his expression, which hadn't altered by as much as a flicker when the connection was completed.
"How can I help you, Lieutenant?"
"I understand that you are director of the Advanced Sciences Division there at Goddard?"
"That's correct."
"So that would make you the immediate superior of a person that we would like to contact-a Doctor Victor Hunt?"
"That's right. He's deputy director of Physics."
"He appears to be unavailable at present, and so is his assistant, Duncan Watt. I was routed to a Professor Danchekker's secretary, Ms. Mulling, but her attitude was not cooperative. She referred me to you."
Caldwell smiled inwardly at the vision of a relentless, plodding force meeting the unthawable, immovable object. "Hunt and Watt are bo
th away on an assignment right now, I'm afraid," he replied.
"When will they be back?"
"It's impossible to say, Lieutenant. The duration is indefinite."
"Can you tell me where this assignment is?"
"About twenty light-years from here. They're in another star system."
"I see…"
Caldwell could almost sense the methodical stepping through of recalled procedure manuals for a continuation. "Can you give me some idea of what this is about?" he asked, both to fill the silence and get them out of a possibly endless loop. There was a slight pause while Polk executed a context switch.
"Does the name Gerald Santello mean anything to you, Mr. Caldwell?"
In fact, it did. Caldwell had been over Hunt's exchange with the alter-ego Hunt countless times. But Caldwell had no intention of going into any of that. He frowned, knitted his brows, and shook his head at the screen. "Not that I recollect. Who is he?"
"Hunt's next-door neighbor in Redfern Canyons."
"If you say so. Okay."
"Mr. Santello recently approached a broker in Washington, expressing intense interest in acquiring stock in a certain commercial enterprise of a highly sensitive and confidential nature that has not made any public offering yet. We've established that Santello acted on the strength of privileged inside information, disclosure of which could constitute a felony. It appears that this information came from Doctor Hunt."
Caldwell made a show of digesting the information. "I'm amazed," he said. Which was true enough-amazed not at the fact, but that it should have such repercussions. "I've known Hunt for years. He's an exceptional scientist. I don't think I've met anyone with less interest in matters like that. You're sure there isn't some mistake?"
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