Jump Starting the Universe

by John David Buchanan

  “Everyone out,” yelled Blackie as loud as he could yell, “Mark, Wayne, get Amelia and Nita outside right now.” They all turned to see Blackie standing next to the raging ball of swirling light that engulfed Joules, who was now only faintly visible inside the shield. The Perlucidian grabbed Nita’s arm and helped her toward the front door. Mark and Wayne had retrieved Amelia and followed him out the door and into the courtyard.

  “You don’t think the Shumbrans are still hanging around do you?” said Wayne, peering around the courtyard.

  “Would you stay after seeing that?” Mark said jerking a nod back toward the museum.

  “I guess not,” said Wayne. Amelia moaned as they laid her on the grass. Nita, who had turned her ankle, was sitting on the bench nearby being tended to by Vekta.

  “Blackie you have to go with the others.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I don’t know how to control this, I could, I could accidently...”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” said Blackie who sat down on the floor about four feet away from the Joules, “I’ll be fine and so will you; I’m not leaving you in here by yourself.”

  Joules slowly lowered her hands and immediately the four beams of light combined into one thick sizzling beam projecting from the light shield and moved from side to side through the middle of the room as if standing guard.

  She sat down and looked at Blackie, “Thank you,” she whispered. Completely unnoticed, the light shield flickered and slowed ever so imperceptibly and the single beam of projected light slowly began to subside. Joules was telling Blackie the story about her grandmother, how she had known Joules had the same ability she did, and how her grandmother had died before she could teach her to use it and control it. A tear slowly formed in the corner of her eye and slid down her cheek. She hadn’t believed her grandmother. She felt she had wasted so much time, time she could have spent with her grandmother learning about the gift. She loved her grandmother, why hadn’t she believed her? But she hadn’t, she didn’t believe until her grandmother demonstrated her own gift, and then she was gone.

  Blackie quietly watched her cry and finally said softly, “You can’t change the past Joules, and your grandmother knew you weren’t ready or she would have shown you earlier. The fact that you were able to use it means she somehow taught you about it even when you didn’t know she was teaching you; I’m sure of that. Your grandmother must have been very clever Joules. And you must have been more open to the idea than you thought or she wouldn’t have tried to teach you at all. Her demonstration to you wasn’t her first training session. I think it was the culmination of years of subtle training; training you were not even conscious of. You’ll need to recall your excursions to your grandmother’s house Joules. You’ll need to recall what she talked about, and what you did together. I expect you will find you had much more training than you realize.”

  “But now,” he said as he stood up, “I think we should go outside and check on our friends.” It was only then that Joules realized the raging light shield and sizzling beam of light were gone. Blackie held out his hand to help her stand up, and before he knew it Joules was hugging him tightly.

  “Thank you,” she said, “thank you.” Blackie’s face turned red, but he didn’t care.

  Outside in the courtyard Mark turned toward the Perlucidian and immediately apologized “I’m sorry about what I said earlier, I thought, I thought….. well I thought the worst. Last time I saw one of your kind he tried to kill me.”

  “That was Mikna, I am Vekta,” he said as if that made everything extraordinarily clear. When Vekta realized it hadn’t made everything clear he added, “It was me that Mikna tried to murder at Hotel Phoenix. You came to my aid then, so I have now come to yours.” There was a moment of awkward silence.

  “Then you were wearing a shield,” said Mark, “so the police were able to bring you back….that is… I mean to say… reconstitute you.”

  “That is correct,” said Vekta, who continued, “then I traced your jump thinking that Zypho might be pursuing you; you leave a large particle trail.”

  “Zypho is dead,” said Mark without a trace of remorse. The Perlucidian looked astonished, then glanced around the yard wondering if any more Shumbrans were hiding among the hedges. “I don’t think there are any more of them,” said Mark, who somehow seemed to know what he was thinking, “I think they’ve had enough of you and Joules for one day.”

  Vekta’s mouth showed a faint smile but he continued to glance around the courtyard and finally said, “Then I am free to return home to business and family.”

  “Thanks Vekta, thanks so much for your help,” said Mark.

  “Thank you,” returned Vekta flexing into a small bow toward Mark, “I am always in your debt.” He walked toward the hedges peering up and down the rows and inspecting the ones that looked crushed, and when he was certain no Shumbrans were lurking out of sight, he smiled at Mark from across the green and left the museum courtyard. “Nice guy,” thought Mark.

  “Looks like the Perlucidians have a new weapon against the Shumbrans,” said Wayne watching Vekta exit through the front gate of the courtyard.

  “Yeah, it seems that way,” said Blackie as he watched Joules and Nita now attending to Amelia.

  “That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” continued Wayne referring to the Perlucidian, “pretty frightening actually, but wicked cool.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  FAMILY SECRETS

  “Don’t you see?” implored Dr. Huntzer. “Or do you? “It’s not what you learn now that is important; what’s important now is that my graduate class makes.” David Gurtzen didn’t see how learning could not be important since he was standing on a small patch of floor in the biology department of a nice State University and paying handsomely for the privilege of learning. He shifted his feet nervously while Dr. Huntzer’s gaze bore down on him as if he were a perfect specimen ready to be dissected. More on that later. Secondly, he thought shifting his feet again, he had not figured out how a graduate class making its minimum enrollment could be more important than him enrolling in the right classes to obtain the right knowledge, knowledge that might help shape his career and his entire future. He fretted and the fret was evident on his face.

  “How about this,” suggested Dr. Huntzer, who caused so much fret among his students that he was a master at recognizing it, “I’ll let you present your biology thesis as your class project; you get highest marks and I get a fifth student, thus insuring my class makes.”

  “Alright,” said David with the urge to shift his feet some more, “I’ll sign up for your water quality seminar class.”

  “Brilliant,” exclaimed Dr. Huntzer, ending the first conversation he had ever had with David and he walked off confident in the idea he had just secured his fifth student and made his graduate class.

  On the first day of water quality seminar there were twelve students cramped in a small room at the aquatic center. Apparently Dr. Huntzer had left nothing to chance and brow beat seven additional students into registering just in case some didn’t show up. He stood before the class and announced, “I’m delighted to see you all here.” (Students often registered for his class

  fulfilling their pledge to enroll, but then immediately dropped it having come to their senses). “When I read your name please come forward and I’ll give you your class project assignment folder. When David’s name was called he quickly took his folder and returned to his seat. He was shocked to discover that his assignment had nothing to do with his biology thesis but was actually a water quality assessment experiment on surfactant concentrations in lake water.

  When he asked one of Dr. Huntzer’s graduate students for advice about how to handle the situation his response was, “Dr. Huntzer is a little odd.”

  “That’s it, that’s all you have? Dr. Huntzer is a bit odd,” replied David who was put-out to say the least. The other student shrugged.

  Odd things have a way o
f ending up oddly. No always badly, just sometimes oddly. After securing a mountain of flasks and separatory funnels, beakers and tubing, scales, deionized water, a host of other expensive breakable gadgets, and the surfactant standard which took an abysmally long time to arrive from the Federal Water Quality Agency, David conducted his assigned experiment, showed the class his apparatus and presented his findings. Sometime during the process of completing an assignment he didn’t bargain for he actually became interested in surfactants. He spent more time in the library researching surfactants than he did on his course materials. In fact, the only time he was in the library, except of course for when he was reading exceptionally boring research papers related to his thesis, was when he was reading about surfactants. Having finished his degree in a topic he would go on to never utilize, David applied all his time to developing a product that was used to mitigate the largest hydrocarbon spill in the history of Tarsus 17. Not only did it mitigate the spill (the local newspaper reported “it did a right tidy job”) it helped save a tremendously sensitive ecological niche. Then, by pure accident it was also found that minuscule amounts of the surfactant product would greatly enhance the cleaning ability of dish detergent (an explanation of the “accident” is warranted, and would be thrilling to tell, but in consideration of the legal actions that might result from said telling we will abstain – sorry, it’s a great story).

  Hydrocarbon spills happen infrequently, but dirty dishes happen with painful regularity. When Eazy Kleen, the number one dish detergent company heard a rumor that David Gurtzen was selling a home-spun dish cleaner at flea markets that far out-cleaned their own product, they immediately purchased some, concluded they now had the second best product on the market and came knocking at David’s door. For the right to use his patent David bargained for a significant one-time fee and very significant annual payments for 30 years; he retired at 32. His time is spent on his hobbies, studying biology and investing wads of cash. He likes options, selling puts and calls on good companies, especially the one that markets the number one dish washing detergent on Tarsus 17. A final note of interest, Mr. Gurtzen’s college transcript indicates he made highest marks in water quality seminar. While working on an article about Eazy Kleen’s market share to be published in the online newspaper E-Gazette, a financial reporter once asked Dr. Huntzer about the mix up in the class project assignment that led to David Gurtzen’s interest in surfactants and his remarkable discovery. Dr. Huntzer replied, “Who?”

  Mark joined Blackie and Wayne and their discussion of the Perlucidian. “I’ve never seen anything like that,” said Mark, “when he absorbed that beam I thought he was done for. Have you ever seen anything like that?”

  “No,” replied Wayne matter-of- factly.

  “No,” said Blackie, “not in all the science fiction movies I’ve seen have I ever seen anything like that.”

  “Honestly,” said Wayne, “these are not the kind of band stories I thought I’d be retelling someday.”

  “Who in their right minds would believe us?” said Mark.

  “Dad,” said Blackie, “Dad saw things he didn’t talk about. He would believe us.”

  “Maybe we’ll write some songs about this stuff,” said Mark, “you know, for a concept CD.”

  “People will think we were on drugs,” said Wayne.

  “Before this trip is over I may need to be,” quipped Blackie as he walked off to check on Nita, Joules and Amelia.

  “Do you think he meant that?” asked Mark.

  “No,” said Wayne emphatically.

  Joules had pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and was gently wiping the cut on Amelia’s head, “This may need stiches,” she said. “Nita, hold this handkerchief on the cut and I’ll go inside and get some water to rinse it.” Nita sat next to Amelia and placed her hand over the handkerchief. Blackie looked at the ring on her hand. He hadn’t paid any attention to it before but now for some reason it looked familiar.

  “Nita, where did you get that ring?” asked Blackie.

  “My father left it for me, why?”

  “It looks really familiar.”

  “My uncle told me it’s been in the family forever.”

  “You mean like a family heir loom?” said Blackie.

  “Yeah, I suppose,” replied Nita.

  “Does it have any significance?” asked Blackie.

  “None that I know of, why do you ask?” she asked suspiciously, “what’s this all about Blackie.”

  “I’ve seen that ring before,” said Blackie.

  “Well, I wear it all the time,” replied Nita.

  “No, I mean I’ve seen that ring someplace else, not on your finger but someplace else,”

  “That’s not likely Blackie, my Uncle told me he had never seen another one like it. He even took it to several professional jewelers to have it inspected and they had never seen one like it either.”

  “I’ve seen it before,” said Blackie as he got to his feet and rushed to accompany Joules inside the museum.

  “Not likely,” said Nita after him.

  He caught Joules just as she reached for the front door handle. “Thanks Blackie, I was just going to get some water to rinse Amelia’s cut. I can manage if you’d like to stay outside.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone right now,” said Blackie. “I don’t trust the Shumbrans and I’m not convinced they all got scared and just left. Although, that was P-R-E-T-T-Y scary,” he finished with a grin on his face. Joules lightly socked him on the arm and they walked through the door. Both of them stopped dead in their tracks. In their earlier haste to get out of the museum they hadn’t realized the extent of the damage inflicted by their fight. There were large pock marks on some of the walls where chunks of stone and mortar or stucco had been blasted away. A concrete and stucco column had been reduced to little more than dust. Tables and chairs were overturned; some now missing drawers or legs. The room was in shambles. Books had been blasted off their shelves, or in some cases an entire book rack had been blown off its base spreading books over the floor like chicken feed tossed in a barnyard.

  “The Head Librarian is going to be furious,” said Joules, “how are we going to explain what happened?” They made their way through the debris and across the room toward the hallway. “There is a lady’s room down the hall,” said Joules, “I’ll get a cup of water and some paper towels for Amelia.”

  Blackie accompanied her to the door and peered in to make sure it was empty. “I’ll be out here if you need me,” he said looking at the plaque above the door that spelled out Lady’s Room in a feminine swirly looking font. He kicked the door stopper down so the door would stay open. “If she yells for help I’ll be able to hear,” he thought as he ambled down the hall. Blackie didn’t want to go too far, he halfway expected a Shumbran to shuffle into view from behind a divider or rack of books. This part of the library had been spared; all the wreckage was in the main room and lobby but there was dust everywhere. He saw the ancient Kingfosi wood desk and plopped into the same chair he had used earlier in the day. Something immediately began to churn in the back of his brain, something he wanted to remember. He strained but couldn’t recall what it was. What is significant about this desk he thought? He was so completely engrossed in his attempts to recall whatever it was he couldn’t recall that he didn’t hear Joules padding up behind him.

  “I’ve got it,” she said, holding a small cup of water and damp paper towels in one hand and dry towels in the other. Blackie was startled so badly he yelled, flinched sideways and knocked a stack of books onto the floor. “I’m sorry Blackie, really, I am, I thought you heard me” said Joules. Blackie felt one of those dark red blushes coming on and quickly bent over to retrieve the books.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said, “I was completely lost in thought and not making any progress.”

  “About what?” asked Joules.

  “That’s the problem, I can’t remember. It has something to do with this des
k,” he said as he retrieved a book and set it down on the smooth wood.

  “About the desk?” said Joules.

  “Well I’m not sure,” returned Blackie trying his best not to sound upset as he retrieved another book and stacked it on the desk. He reached to retrieve another book and below it splayed open on the floor was a book with a colored figure.

  “That’s it,” he said excitedly, tossing aside the top book and grabbing the second.

  “What is it?” asked Joules.

  “What I was trying to remember. I was looking at this book before we went to lunch and I recognized,”… Blackie hesitated; he wondered if he should tell Joules what he suspected. Joules seemed to sense he was struggling and didn’t push the issue.

  Blackie closed the book and stood up. “Should we join the others?” he said.

  “Sure,” replied Joules who turned and took several steps toward the hall. “Are you coming,” she said, realizing Blackie was still looking at the book and hadn’t moved. He joined her and they walked down the hallway. When they entered the lobby Blackie stopped.

  “I want to show you something,” he said. He stepped closer to her as if to shield what he was about to do from anyone else’s eyes and opened the book in his hand to the page with the colored figure. “See this symbol,” he said quietly, “Nita is wearing a ring with this exact same symbol on it. When I asked her about it she said she didn’t know if it had any significance. She said her father hadn’t said anything about it before he died, and she said her uncle took it around to several jewelers who were artifact experts; they said it was very old and certainly unique but they didn’t know anything more.” Blackie stopped talking and was momentarily deep in thought.

  “You know what it means don’t you?” said Joules. Her question brought him back to his senses.