The Alternate Universe
Page 14
The other PALs were too bewildered—or more likely, the network already too damaged—for them to regroup. Claude stretched his arms and tapped the remaining PALs one at a time. At contact, each PAL bounced back, smoke and sparks instantly rising from its vents. He heard grinding gears and a cacophony of gibberish as they squealed and spun. He expected that at least one might try again to grab him, but they were too far gone, and their twitching soon subsided.
As he stepped carefully over and around their mangled shapes, just three kept moving. One extended and retracted its arms toward the ceiling. Another, the crown of its head emitting sparks, spun in circles like a ballerina on fire, and the third, facing the wall, bowed over and over, reciting in the accent of a British aristocrat, “I do apologize. I do apologize.”
As he hustled to the door, with an inert Mars still balanced on his shoulder, Claude realized two things: the overhead lights were dark, indicating that the auto shield had knocked out power to the entire house, and the belt was so hot that he could feel it burning through his pants. He tried to press the button on the buckle but it was too scalding to hold for the required five seconds, and yet he had to do something because he suddenly felt that he couldn’t breathe, as if the shield had cut off his oxygen supply.
He hurried over to a large tropical plant and tore off a large leaf, which he wrapped several times around his hand for protection before pushing the button again. The leaf instantly began to smolder, but at least he could hold the button for the full five seconds.
He hadn’t realized the auto-guard had been making a buzzing sound until it fell silent and a wave of cool but smoky air rushed over him.
With the leaf still on his hand, he ran from the house into a surprisingly calm, cool morning.
Chapter Seventeen
Fast Loops of Ore’s Rotation
“Now will you explain what the Hades is going on?”
Carolien had been pacing in front of the university stable when Claude galloped up.
“You’ll never know how happy I am to see you,” he said, jumping from Trax. As he leaned over and tried to kiss her cheek, she pulled back.
“Explanation please,” she said.
It was 6:07 a.m., and the sky was beginning to lighten. Claude had ridden as fast as he could, taking advantage of the empty streets to push Trax hard. He’d feared being followed and hurried to open the stable door.
“I’m more convinced than ever,” he said over his shoulder, “that Dad invented a time buggy.”
“Keep talking.”
“Not here.”
They led Trax and Mattie into the stable, and Claude swung the gate shut behind them.
“This way.” He led them to his dad’s stall and began to loosen the straps that held Mars to the saddle.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“It’s one of Millstone’s PALs,” he said as he hefted it on his shoulder.
“What are you doing with it?”
“I don’t know. It knows too much.”
“About?”
“About the things I stole from Millstone’s house.”
“What did you steal from Milly?”
“And it helped me tie up Jay.”
“What?”
“Jay was trying to wristcuff me to my bed.” He headed for the stairwell.
“Hades, what are you talking about?”
“Millstone tried to get Jay to spy on me and keep me busy.”
“Why?”
“Maybe so I wouldn’t go looking for my dad.”
“Scheisse. You realize that everything you’re saying sounds completely crazy,” she said as she followed him into the windowless stairwell.
They took the steps two at a time, and Claude kicked open the door to the hall on the second floor. Carolien followed him down the corridor and through a door marked Physical Sciences.
Inside were desks bordered by several doors, one of which was open. Maya was inside facing three large screens but spun around as soon as she heard them.
“Thank carbon!” she shouted, jumping from her seat. She ran to them, throwing her arms around Claude, who continued to balance the PAL on his shoulder. “I should never, ever have let you out of my sight.”
“I’m fine. This is Carolien,” he said.
The women shook hands. “Has Claude explained what’s going on?”
“That depends,” Carolien said cautiously.
“I explained the essentials,” Claude said.
“Claude says his dad built a time-traveling machine, and I know he really believes it’s true. But do you think it’s true, too?” she asked Maya.
“Yes. I think his dad made a time-traveling transporter,” Maya said.
“Crazy,” Carolien muttered.
Claude placed the PAL on a cluttered desk, prompting Maya to ask, “What is that?”
“One of Millstone’s Programmable Automated Laborers,” Claude said. Then he pulled the key card from his pocket. “Shall we?”
They followed him to the office next to Maya’s. Jonathan’s name was on the door, and the number 42 was stenciled on the wall above it in blue paint. Claude took a deep breath and swiped the card through the magnetic reader. He heard a click and the door popped open.
“Yes,” Maya said, punching a fist in the air.
Claude was about to push it all the way open when Maya said, “Wait a sec.” She hurried back to her office and returned a moment later holding something that looked vaguely like a trumpet.
“What’s that?” Carolien asked.
“It’s a magnetic oscillator,” she said. “One of Jonathan’s more useless inventions but it’s the closest thing to a weapon I could find.”
“You don’t believe in knives?” Carolien asked, pulling a blade from her back pocket and flipping it open.
“This is better than either of those,” Claude said, lifting his shirt to reveal the revolver in his waistband.
Maya looked agape. “That’s dangerous,” she said.
Carolien looked more worried than surprised. “Where did you get that relic?” she asked.
“From Millstone’s collection. Are we ready?”
Maya and Carolien nodded. Claude slowly opened the door, reached inside, and flipped on the light.
“Holy mother of immaculate crap,” Carolien muttered, lowering her blade.
The room had been turned upside down: pictures and posters had been ripped off the walls, files had been scattered, books dumped in heaps on the ground.
“Let’s look for the safe,” Claude said.
“What safe?” Carolien asked.
“Jonathan’s note mentioned a safe,” Maya said.
“Let’s each take a different corner,” Claude said.
“Carolien, you start on that side,” Maya said. “I’ll start here. Claude, you check the desk.”
Maya began patting the walls. Claude went to the desk but seeing that it had been thoroughly searched—its drawers and their contents had been dumped on the floor—he started dragging bookcases from the wall, a job made difficult by the mounds of scheisse in front of them.
“They probably found the safe, don’t you think?” he asked.
“Think positive,” Maya said
Claude tried to but couldn’t. He had a feeling he would never see his dad again. And when Millstone discovered all the damage he’d caused that morning, he’d probably have him arrested—or worse.
“You might as well have a look at this,” he said, pulling the photograph from his pocket.
Carolien came over. “What is it?”
“Millstone had it.”
She took it from him. Maya looked over her shoulder.
“I think that’s me,” Claude said, pointing.
“Incredible,” Maya said, her voice infused with what sounded like awe. “And doesn’t that look like Carolien?”
She pointed to a woman standing on the wagon, next to the boy holding the pitchfork. The woman’s face was blurred, as if she’d turned her
head while the shutter was open, and yet there was something familiar about her, something in the way she held her body, not timidly or uncertainly, but with strength and confidence. And then, with a start, Claude saw her shoes, which were mostly hidden by a long dress. The thick white trim around the soles wasn’t what he would have expected in a picture that seemed to be over 150 years old.
“Sneakers,” he whispered. He looked at Carolien’s sneaks, which had the same white trim.
Carolien squinted at the photo. “It can’t be me. I’ve never seen this place…” her voice trailed off. She looked back and forth between Maya and Claude, confused.
Maya, who was still studying the photo, said, “You’re holding a note, Claude.”
“I know…”
“The first letters,” she said.
“Baileys enjoy life something something fast loops of something something,” Claude said.
Carolien took the picture and held it under a lamp on Jonathan’s desk. “It says, ‘Baileys enjoy life over with fast loops of ore’s rotation.’ It doesn’t make any sense.”
Maya dropped to the ground and began patting the floor. “What do the first letters spell?” she asked.
“Bel…” Claude began.
“Below floor,” Carolien said.
“Yow,” Claude said, dropping to the floor.
Carolien shoved the picture in her pocket and joined them.
“Here,” Maya said. She found a small button cut into the linoleum. She pressed it and a square of tile popped up. She lifted the tile, revealing a safe with an electric keypad.
“Amazing,” Carolien said.
“Now what?” Claude asked.
Maya immediately began punching different numbers into the pad. Each time, the digital display flickered and beeped, but the box remained locked. “The note said saturn opens the safe but I have no idea what that means,” she said.
“Maybe the letters correspond to numbers,” Carolien said, squatting next to her. She counted off the letters on her fingers. “S might be 19.”
“Worth a shot,” Maya said, pressing 1 and 9 on the keypad.
“And A is 1,” Claude said.
“And T is 20,” Carolien said.
Maya keyed in the numbers as they spoke.
“U is 21,” Claude continued. “R is 18.”
“And N is,” Carolien began, then counted before announcing, “14.”
After Maya punched in the last number, the display flickered and beeped, but the safe remained locked.
“Maybe it’s like the numbers on a cell,” Carolien said. She pulled hers out. “S is 7, A is 2, T is 8, U is 8 and N is 6.”
Maya tried but it didn’t work.
“OK. I have an idea,” Maya said, getting up and hurrying from the room. She returned a moment later with a tablet. She sat down on the ground and quickly navigated to a page showing a diagram of the solar system and, under it, a chart:
Right Distance From 47°N 7°E:
Ascension Declination (AU) Altitude Azimuth
Sun 23h 18m 32s -4° 27.6’ 0.993 5.255 77.693 Up
Merc 21h 49m 26s -11° 49.6’ 0.732 -15.186 88.836 Set
Venus 1h 14m 31s +7° 30.6’ 1.352 32.995 62.112 Up
Moon 5h 9m 9s -22° 39.2’ 62.9 ER -60.938 -140.094 Set
Mars 20h 46m 12s -19° 2.8’ 2.044 -31.059 95.006 Set
Jupiter 17h 10m 50s -22° 14.5’ 5.252 -63.784 157.139 Set
Saturn 9h 29m 47s +16° 12.2’ 8.313 21.648 -90.837 Up
Uranus 23h 5m 34s -6° 37.3’ 21.079 1.488 78.639 Up
Neptune 21h 32m 10s -14° 51.4’ 30.921 -20.291 89.750 Set
Pluto 17h 54m 44s -16° 29.7’ 31.408 -54.628 142.308 Set
“This might be what we want, but hurry. Type 9 29 47,” Maya said, pointing to the numbers that corresponded to Saturn.
Carolien keyed in the numbers.
“Anything?” Maya asked.
“Nope.”
“OK. Keep typing. Plus sixteen. Twelve point two.”
“Plus sixteen… Twelve point two.” She pressed each key firmly.
The sound that followed the input of the final number was subtle but clear: it was the whisper of a polished bolt sliding on polished metal. Over Carolien’s shoulder Claude saw the digital screen flash zeroes for a moment and then the word “OPEN.”
“Hey, hey,” Carolien said, grinning.
“Cosmic,” Claude said.
“What are those numbers?” Carolien asked.
“They describe the exact location of Saturn,” Maya said. She leaned back and ran her hands through her stringy hair. She looked exhausted but triumphant, as if she’d just run a marathon.
“Aren’t those numbers always changing?” Carolien asked.
“Exactly,” Maya said. “Jonathan very cleverly—or should I say annoyingly—created a combination that constantly changes.”
“Why?” Claude asked.
“To make it harder for someone to crack, I suppose. If someone sees him punch in the combination it doesn’t matter. In short order that combination becomes obsolete.”
They gazed at each other in silence. Claude wished he could extend the moment forever. He knew that as soon as they opened the door of the safe, the triumph would be forgotten and they’d face another, probably more difficult challenge.
“I guess we should look, huh?” Carolien said.
“I guess,” Maya said.
Carolien slowly opened the safe.
Inside was a small circular tube to which were attached various valves, knobs and wires. It was about the size of a paperback book and reminded Claude vaguely of a homemade radio. “That couldn’t be a … a…” he hesitated to say the words, but then he didn’t need to say them because everyone knew what he meant.
“It looks like a particle accelerator,” Maya said, amazed.
“Really?” Carolien asked.
“An atom smasher?” Claude asked.
“Yeah,” Maya said, leaning forward to get a better look. “Except this one’s a model. Real ones are miles long so the particles can build up enough speed to be smashed to smithereens.”
“Why would Dad put this in a safe if it were just a model?”
“And what’s this?” Carolien asked, picking up what looked like an address book and a small velvet bag.
Maya took the small book and thumbed through it. “Looks like a manual. Incredible. ‘4D Particulator’,” she said, reading from the first page.
“Well?” Claude asked nervously.
Biting her lip, Maya kept turning pages, quickly scanning their contents. “It’s definitely Jonathan’s handwriting,” she muttered. “Wait. Here’s a log. There’s a list of dates and coordinates, and next to them he’s written ‘Failed.’” She kept turning pages and repeating, “failed, failed, failed.” Then she jumped, as if the page had bitten her. “Except here. Here,” she said, pointing to the page.
Claude looked where she was pointing and read aloud: “March 13, 1849. Serenity, North Carolina.”
“He wrote exclamation points after that entry,” Maya said.
“Serenity is where my great-great-great-great grandmother was a slave,” Carolien said.
“Really?” Maya asked.
“Yow,” Claude said.
“But what would make him go there?” Maya asked. “It’s too much of a coincidence, isn’t it?”
“Did your grandmother talk about Serenity in the moving picture?” Claude asked.
Carolien nodded. “Didn’t you watch it?”
“No. But Dad did. And the photograph. Do you think that might be, well, from Serenity?”
Carolien’s jaw dropped. “But how… I don’t get it.” She rubbed her eyes.
Meanwhile, Maya lifted the particulator from the safe, placed it on the desk, and began examining the tiny contraption of wires and tubes from different angles. “Maybe this isn’t a model after all,” she said.
It seemed impossible to Claude that such a small device, which appeared to be cobbled fro
m items from a junk shop, could be responsible for such an achievement.
“He must have taken other trips,” Carolien said.
“Does that book say he took other trips?” Claude asked.
Maya thumbed through to the last page. “No. North Carolina is the last entry.”
They were silent for a few moments, and then Carolien asked bluntly: “Is time travel really possible?”
Maya sighed. “A week ago—this afternoon—I would have said no. But if Jonathan built a miniature particle accelerator that really works, well, who knows?” She looked at Claude. “You said your dad mentioned a big breakthrough, and he looked like he’d grown three days stubble in just one day. I’m beginning to think he went to 1849, spent three days, and came back. And then went to the 1930s and got stuck.”
Claude nodded slowly. “I guess that makes as much sense as anything I’ve heard today.”
Maya took his hand and squeezed it. “Don’t worry. We’re going to find him.”
“Yeah, Claude,” Carolien said. “We’ll figure this thing out.”
If anyone could figure out a knotty problem, Carolien could. Last month, she’d come closest to guessing the number of jellybeans in a kangaroo-shaped jar for a fundraiser sponsored by the Feed Australia Club. Hundreds of kids had paid five dollars each for the chance to guess the number of jellybeans in the container (and win a hundred bucks if they came closest). Carolien had whipped up a formula to determine the exact volume of the jar and then, using a calculation based on the average dimension of a jellybean, had come within seven of the correct number.
“If only we were dealing with a jar of jellybeans,” he said.
“If only. This problem’s a bit different,” Carolien said.
“But not impossible?” he asked, his voice cracking.
“No,” she said. “Not impossible.”
“Carolien’s right,” Maya said.
They sounded so certain. Even as he felt like crying, he also felt a bit of their confidence flow into him.
“So then,” he said, squinting to block the flow of tears, “What do we do now?”
With a suddenness that suggested she’d just made up her mind about something, Maya said in a loud clear voice, “Well lady and gentleman, let’s figure out what this baby does.”