Giddeon (Silver Strand Series) (31 page)

Raymond returned to his Cayman estate after his meeting with the President.
 
He had made clear to the leader of the free world his concerns about the upcoming launches by the two countries on the other side of the world.
 
It was still a few weeks before the window presented itself, but, days were slipping past with what seemed like increasing velocity.
 
The President instructed Raymond to keep him abreast of any and all developments regarding his mission.

Before all of the tests were completed, the asteroid took another little shift… most probably due to one of many ice pockets releasing its gaseous contents into space as more radiant energy from the sun began to heat up the surface.
 
Once again, the minor movement appeared to bring the projected trajectory onto a more dangerous path for the Earth.
 
It wasn’t thought to be due to the presence of the tiny landing craft on the surface of the rock, but, such a variation was worrisome to the engineers and scientists.
 
These natural fluctuations could be construed as being a result of human interference, even though no paint or Mylar had yet been deployed, and the ion engine had not even been fired.

Bradford
knew that such alterations could be troublesome.
 
It was his feeling that these perturbations, as predicted by Giddeon, would eventually bring the rock into a direct line with Earth’s orbit.
 
The problem was that his endeavors to stop such a process might be interpreted as causing it.
 
That, when his operations were started, such changes would be alarming to the President and any of his advisors that were aware of the mission.
 

It occurred to the billionaire that the global warming crowd has a similar dilemma.
 
If climate change is a naturally occurring phenomenon, it is difficult to ascertain if man’s activities are adding to or inhibiting the effect.
 
That’s the problem with an experiment with no controls… there’s no way to predict the future a given system will have without the alterations produced by the experiment, itself.
 
No way to prove that a predicted model would behave a certain way when left undisturbed.

Or, was there?

*****

I remember once I asked Giddeon how much of an atom is empty space.
 
He smiled like I had handed him the moon, and then he proceeded to hang it for me.
 
There’s nothing he loves more than going on about his favorite subject, so every now and then I ask him to explain something technical about physics even if I don’t really care to know the answer.
 
I must admit, though, that sometimes I get caught up in his enthusiasm and I do actually find that my interest is piqued.
 
That was one of those times.

Apparently, if the radius of an atom is the distance from the nucleus that the farthest electron is most likely to be found (the Bohr radius)… which for a hydrogen atom is about 0.053nm (nanometers)… then approximately 99.9999999999999% of the atom is empty space.
 
That’s 13 decimal spaces out!
 
A hydrogen atom only has one electron, so, if the nucleus (the proton and the neutron) we’re talking about was the size of a pea, and you set it in the middle of a football stadium, then the electron would be buzzing around near the outer bleachers.
 
Giddeon explained that it could actually be further away than that, because electrons actually exist in a ‘cloud’ of probabilities and sometimes they might even be found outside of that radius… but just to keep it simple, the pea and the stadium are nice ways to visualize it.

I mulled that over for a little bit and then inquired about the nucleus of an atom.
 
How much of that could be considered ‘solid’?
 
You know… the protons and the neutrons in all of the elements.

The smile on his face grew into a bona fide grin.

He then went on for a good half hour about quarks and their properties.
 
I learned how they are always found in clusters of three, and that there are six different types.
 
Giddeon then mentioned some other players in what he referred to as The Standard Model, but before he went off on a sub-atomic tangent, I reminded him that mainly I was interested in the empty space, and not particles.

He looked a little sheepish after I did that, so I gave him a kiss to set things right and redirect his lecture.
 
It worked like a charm, of course.
 
Giddeon then galloped off towards the original topic.

If you assume that quarks are actually point particles, then the radius of the atom is approximately 10 to the 15
^th
times as large as those small particles.
 
So, roughly, if a quark was a large grain of sand, the radius of the atom around it would be almost the size of the Earth.
 
Doesn’t seem like a lot of stuff, down there, does it?
 
And, still, I wasn’t done with my questioning.
 
I asked him about quarks.
 
What are they made of?
 
Is it something smaller, still?

Strings.
 
Or superstrings, he informed me.

Little tiny, vibrating strings.

It was tough to get an answer out of him about the size of these little guys, because they live in a lot of different dimensions (maybe 11?) and have several configurations and projected forms.
 
But finally, I pinned him down and asked him if the atom was the size of our solar system, how long would a string be in comparison?
 

Depending on the theory (there were 5 different ones that involved strings) about the size of a tree.

I don’t know if that would be a redwood tree, a dogwood tree, a Bonsai or a Mimosa… but, at least I had an image to wrap my head around.
 

“That’s pretty small,” I said.

“Does size really matter?” he laughed.

I slapped him on the arm.
 
“So, we’ve gone from a pea in a stadium, to a grain of sand in the earth, to a tree in the solar system.
 
Is that the limit?”

He shrugged his shoulders.
 
“For the time being.”

I shook my head.
 
“Doesn’t seem like much matter out there in the material world, after all.”

Giddeon stood tall and recited a couplet of a poem…

 
        
“Great fleas have little fleas upon their backs to bite ‘
em
,

          
And little fleas have lesser fleas, and so ad infinitum.”

That made me laugh.
 
“Did you make that up?”

“Nah, that was the mathematician Augustus De Morgan, who adapted it from a poem by Jonathan Swift.”

 
I clapped my hands.
 
“
Ooooh
!
 
Jonathan wrote Gulliver’s Travels.
 
I loved that book!”
 
I thought back and remembered that the monsters in my closet had had a mixed reaction to it.
 
I made a note to myself to research the author and his motivations during the writing of his works.

“So, I guess in the end, Greg and Melody don’t really have much more real mass than us, when you think about it,” said my husband.
 
I love saying that, by the way… my husband.
 
I can’t get him to wear a ring, though.
 
He doesn’t like the feel of jewelry on his skin.
 
It doesn’t really matter.
 
I know he’s mine : )
 
I wear one that matches my necklace and bracelet… nice and simple.
 
You know… sometimes I go back to Italy and check on my Doppelganger… hers looks just the same.
 
She got married, too.

Anyway, I considered what Giddeon had said about our differences in mass.
 
It made me feel closer to you knowing that we were so similar in that respect.
 
I suppose reality is based on precious little, at the end of the day.
 
But, isn’t it odd how each day seems to be so much more than that?
 
So magnificent and all encompassing.
 
So… large. The grandeur all around us stretches out into infinity... galaxies, quasars and nebulas that go on, forever.

 
“Well…” I said after having been tutored by my fellow, “since not much is really there, that asteroid shouldn’t be so hard to move, now, should it?”

The blue of his irises lit up like a sunrise had dawned on small, twin, aqua marine planets.

“If faith can move mountains… science should be able to scoot a rock around, huh?” my instructor asked, rhetorically.

“You would think,” I replied.

 
He gave me his best smile, and, as usual, I kind of melted.

I guess I’m hot for teacher : )

*****

“Honey, I’m home!” Raymond called up to the study from the large room down below.
 
Jennifer smiled as she turned the computer onto standby and Sampson jumped to his feet from beside her.
 
Dr. Evans had grown accustomed to Ray’s sense of humor, and she came out onto the balcony as Sampson made a mad dash down the arc shaped stairway to see his master.
 
The dog’s tail was a blur and even his hindquarters were oscillating to and fro with excitement.
 
He barked a couple of times despite his training, and Ray shook a finger at him which brought the vocalizations to a halt but did nothing to impede the frantic tail.
 
Ray stooped down and wrapped his arms around the
Labrador
, and was covered with dog saliva on his cheek for his efforts.

“I’ll be right down, dear… I just have to figure out the best place to store that pesky plutonium from the Mark 1 plant in
Romania
,” said the therapist.

Jennifer was grinning down from over the railing.
 
She looked awfully cute in her old, grey sweatpants and navy blue t-shirt.
 
There was a stick figure doing a sit-up on her chest with the caption ‘Crunch Time’ underneath it.
 

“Okey-dokey.
 
After you do that, maybe we can bake some cookies and play Monopoly.”

“Sounds lovely… actually, the cookies do sound like a good idea.”

“Chocolate chip?”

“Is there any other kind?”

He shook his head ‘no’ and headed off to the kitchen.
 
“No chocolate for you, buddy,” said
Bradford
to Sampson, “but, we do have some…
bacon!
”

The dog couldn’t contain himself, and let loose another bark.

*****

At the kitchen table they ate the cookies he had prepared from a roll of cookie dough.
 
They were surprisingly good for store-bought treats.
 
Sampson had already had his bacon and sat there looking back and forth at his two favorite people in the world, unsure of which direction to devote the majority of his attention.
 
Jennifer patted her leg, so he came over to have his head and ears stroked; the decision had been temporarily made for him.
 
His tongue lolled out of his mouth and he looked up at her with adoring eyes.

“You really can cook.
 
This is a step up from your sandwiches.”

“I know… actual heat and timing was involved,” he grinned.

She plucked another one from the tray and took a small bite of gooey goodness. “Well, they’re pretty delicious.
 
We should save some for tonight, if you’re not too tired to watch a movie.”

That had become a weekly thing for them… watching a movie on Friday night at her guest-house.
 
Although their relationship was platonic and centered around the asteroid… they both looked forward to their newly formed tradition.
 
It was almost like a little date.
 
They had found that they had similar tastes in movies, and had seen quite a collection of their favorites.

         
‘Oh, Brother, Where Art Thou?’

         
‘Big Fish’

         
‘Napoleon Dynamite’

      
   
‘It’s A Wonderful Life’

         
‘
Caddyshack
’

         
‘Star Wars 1’

         
‘Edward
Scissorhands
’

         
‘Defending Your Life’

         
‘Forrest Gump’

“What’s on the schedule for tonight?” asked Raymond.

“‘Groundhog Day’,” replied the petite therapist.
 
I’m gonna go to the gym so I can eat the rest of those cookies, first.”
 
She stood up from the table.
 
“Show starts at 7: 30… you can fill me in on your
Washington
trip, then.”

“Okay,” said Raymond.

Sampson was clearly torn about what to do as she was leaving the room, and looked to Ray for help.

“Go with her… I’ve got to pretty myself up for tonight.
 
That could take a while.”

The solidly built dog bounded after Jennifer, who was turned away from them.
 
She smiled a bit of smile and rolled her eyes at
Bradford
’s comment.

*****

Raymond showed up about 7:15, and Jennifer noticed that he had ‘prettied up’ fairly well.
 
He wore his usual Levi’s blue jeans, along with a nice, white, cotton shirt and Top-Sider shoes.
 
He had even shaved and run a comb through his freshly washed, thick mop of shoulder length hair.
 
She wasn’t sure, but she thought she detected just the hint of an aftershave.

Sampson, jumped up and down, but remained mute during the process.
 

Jennifer got Ray a cup of hot tea from the kitchen… they both enjoyed sampling different brews from around the world.
 
The cupboard was filled with a stash of flavors that would take several weeks to sample.
 
That night they had a Caramel Almond
Amaretti
herbal tea, which they both agreed was quite tasty.
 
Sampson sniffed at the cups on the coffee table until Raymond made him back away.
 
He continued to smell the air around him, as if the aroma was of great interest.

Actually, what he was sensing was Giddeon and Mia.
 
We found out, later, that they sat in on quite a few of Raymond’s and Jennifer’s ‘Date Nights’ and watched the movies with them.
 

Each of our subconscious halves sat on the floor in front of the television and had a cup of the herbal tea, also.
 
Sampson had zeroed in on their containers, noticing that the aroma was just as strong in that location as it was on the coffee table.
 

Most likely, he could also smell a hint of Boris and Samantha that lingered on the two Inter-Dimensional Tourists.

*****

Raymond told Jennifer all about his meeting with the President, and his concerns with the Russian and Indian missions that were nearing their launch windows.
 
The two people on the couch tried to figure out a way to convince the leader of the free world that the other missions would most likely jeopardize their attempts at diverting the rock from a collision course with the Earth.
 
All they had were
Giddeon’s
predictions of the future track… they needed to find a way to prove the veracity of those calculations.
 

They agreed to tackle that problem in the morning and popped the movie in the DVD player.
 

As luck would have it, Giddeon had been thinking about the exact same dilemma, and he and Mia formulated a plan as they watched the movie.

*****

Jennifer and Ray ate their cookies and watched the film.
 
Dr. Evans was barefooted in silk jogging shorts and a Bradford Enterprises t-shirt that was a bit too large for her.
 
Sometimes it would slip off of one shoulder and reveal the smooth epidermis beneath it… epidermis uncrossed by a bra-strap, Mia noted.

“For God’s sake… kiss her, Raymond,”
encouraged Mia.
 
“She’s sending you all kind of signals.”

 
“Are you sure?”
enquired Giddeon.

“Of course I’m sure… are you blind?”

“I think they’re just enjoying the film.”

“It’s a good thing I kissed you that day on the golf course… I’d probably still be waiting.”

“I thought I kissed you.”

“That’s what you’re supposed to think… don’t you know anything?”

“I know physics.”

 
Mia blew air from her cheeks in exasperation
.
 
“This isn’t about physics… it’s about passion.”

“I’m passionate about physics.”

 
She swatted him on the head, but, of course her hand went right through him.

“You’re lucky Melody and Greg aren’t sharing a dream right now.”

 
“Okay… I’m passionate about you, too.”

 
She gave him a sour look, but he knew she was just being playful.

“How do I compare to physics?”
Mia asked.

He furled his brow for a moment, and then, said,
“I’m way more passionate about you.
 
As a matter of a fact, I don’t know of any equations that can do what you do.
 
Plus, you’re soft, and warm… and limber.
 
Equations are nothing but a bunch of numbers.
 
You, on the other hand, are
Numero
Uno.
 
Can I have a kiss?”

Giddeon’s
wife twisted her lips to the side as she thought it over… then
said,
“Not until she gets one.”

 
“For God’s sake, Raymond… kiss her!”

The two Inter-Dimensional Tourists laughed together, and finished watching the film.
 
When it was over, they looked back and saw that Jennifer had curled up and had fallen asleep on her side of the couch.
 
She had been working way too hard during the past few days.
 

Raymond Bradford went to her bedroom and turned down the covers and sheet.
 
Then, he returned, gently picked Jennifer up in his arms and easily carried the petite woman back to her bed.
 
She never even woke up during the process.
 
The big guy then bent down in the darkened room and gave her a tender kiss on the forehead.
 
He went back into the den, turned off the television and left out of the front door with Sampson.
 
A cloak of brilliant stars radiated in the heavens above him.

 
“Does that count?”
asked Giddeon as they watched him go
.

 
“I guess,”
said a somewhat disappointed Mia, who then wrapped her arms through her ghost-like companion and did her best to touch her lips to his.

*****