Linkage: The Narrows of Time (3 page)

Lucas recognized the elderly woman walking
toward him with a cane and swollen ankles. “Would you like to go
ahead of us, Professor Atkins?” he asked her.

She smiled, but her saggy skin camouflaged
most of the grin. “Why, thank you, young man.”

Lucas moved his brother aside to let the
woman waddle past. It took her a good thirty seconds, giving Lucas
plenty of time to sample her aroma: a powerful combination of hair
spray and Bengay. All she was missing was blue hair and support
hose.

Lucas waited for her to move ahead before
whispering into Drew’s ear, “I wonder if she knew Columbus?”

Drew smiled through a partially held-back
laugh, then said, “Maybe
one
of us should go find Trevor and
let him know we’re stuck in line.”

“I’m assuming that someone is
me
?”

“Wow, that’s awfully nice of you, brother.
I’ll stay here and keep our place in line.”

Lucas found their Swedish lab assistant,
Trevor Johansson, sitting at a table near the back of the dining
area. His 6’ 7” friend was wearing a weightlifting belt and workout
clothes. Trevor’s wet clothes clinged to his well-defined body,
reeking of perspiration.

Lucas saw four plates overflowing with fruits
and vegetables sitting in front of Trevor. “Having a little snack,
are we?”

Trevor responded, his Swedish accent thick.
“
Ja
, hungry. Vawnt some?”

“No, thanks. I’m not a big fan of fruit. I’ll
grab something else.”

Each time Trevor took a bite, his biceps came
alive as the twisted cords of muscle and vein stretched the skin to
the point of eruption. Drew was the only other person Lucas knew
with arms close to that size.

Trevor opened an issue of
Olympic
Coach
magazine and turned to the table of contents. His
healthy-sized fingers struggled with the periodical’s thin
paper.

“You’re not thinking of leaving us, are you?”
Lucas asked.

“No. I stay here.”

Trevor flipped to an article with photos of
two male wrestlers.

“Are any of your old friends still on the
team?”

“
Ja
. They do vell. Two gold medals and
silver.”

“Do you miss it?”

“
Ja
, very much.”

“Did they ever apologize for botching your
drug tests?”

Trevor stopped chewing for a moment. He
looked upset.

Lucas scrambled to change the subject. “Uh,
did you order your tickets yet for the twenty-fifteen games in
Orlando?”

“Tampa Bay.
Ja
, tickets ordered.”

“Sorry, my bad. Shows you how much I know
about the Olympics. I might have to actually watch some of the
events this time, since our country’s hosting it.”

Trevor only grunted before scooping up
another spoonful of mixed fruit.

Lucas had known Trevor for almost two years
and had eaten with him countless times. He knew it was pointless to
try to carry on a conversation with his lab assistant once Trevor
started replenishing his calories. Trevor was on the other side of
thirty, but there certainly wasn’t anything wrong with his
appetite; a byproduct, no doubt, of his over-charged
metabolism.

Trevor had started his academic career late
but held twin doctorates in physics and computer engineering. Lucas
was intimidated by his friend’s sheer size and would take odds that
Trevor was probably the largest scientist on the planet. Even
though Trevor was assigned to their team as his underling, Lucas
never really felt comfortable about it. Trevor was almost nine
years older than he was, and he often wondered how his Swedish
friend felt about working for—as some of the other researchers
called him—a grubby-faced youngster. Trevor never gave him any
indication there was an issue, but Lucas was cautious
nonetheless.

“Okay, then. I guess I should get back to
Drew. I just wanted to let you know we’re here, but it may take a
few minutes to get through the line.”

Lucas returned to the cafeteria’s door and
saw that Drew was surrounded by three burly students wearing
rugby-style shirts and socks. Each stranger was at least six feet
tall and carried twice his muscle mass. The tallest stranger, who
sported a Mohawk-style haircut, grabbed the handles on the back of
Drew’s wheelchair and shoved it with force toward the back of the
line. The chair wobbled to the right as it shot across the floor,
sending the upper half of Drew’s body over the left armrest

Chapter
3

Resolve

Lucas rushed over to Drew. “Are you
okay?”

Drew only nodded, though it wasn’t
convincing.

“What the hell’s going on here?”

“Those guys cut in front.”

“We’ll see about that,” Lucas said, returning
Drew to his former position in line. He stood in front of the
tallest rugby player, taking a defensive position. The skin across
his forehead tightened as a warm sensation swelled within his
cheeks. “Keep your goddamn hands off my brother!”

The rugby player moved a step closer, grit
his teeth, and then raised his chin. “Oh, yeah, what are
you
gonna do about it?”

Lucas reciprocated by standing toe-to-toe
with the stout man and pushing in close to his face, looking him
dead in the eye. “Go ahead. Take your best shot.”

A slender, redheaded security officer
appeared from around the corner and pulled Lucas away from the
rugby player. He stood in between the two would-be combatants with
a hand pressed against both of their chests. "Someone care to
explain?"

"These assholes cut in line," Lucas replied,
fixing his shirt collar. The officer looked vaguely familiar, but
Lucas couldn't place him. He figured he must have seen the older
man around campus somewhere.

Two British students waiting in line behind
them agreed. “Yes, they jumped the line in front of all of us.”

The officer told the rugby players, “I think
you should leave, now. I don’t want to see you here for the rest of
the day. And next time, wait in line like everyone else.”

The brutes complained to the officer before
finally leaving the cafeteria and walking upstairs. They maintained
eye contact with Lucas the entire way. Two of the men mouthed
something quietly before flipping him the bird.

Lucas crossed his arms and put his trembling
hands under his sweat-soaked armpits.

The officer told Lucas, “Just because they
cut in front of you is not a reason to get physical.”

“You’re absolutely right, Officer. I
overreacted.”

“Next time, just ignore them. A few extra
minutes in line aren’t worth a trip to the medical center.”

“Yes, sir. Won’t happen again.” He waited for
the officer to disappear around the corner before asking Drew, “Did
you see the size of those guys? They would have kicked my ass six
ways from Sunday.”

Drew nodded. “Maybe we should eat someplace
else tomorrow.”

Lucas followed his brother through the buffet
line, carrying both of their food trays to Trevor’s table and put
them down. He removed one of the chairs to allow Drew to scoot his
wheelchair under the table. Lucas sat in between Drew and
Trevor.

“Sorry we’re late again,” Lucas told Trevor.
“We got delayed by a bunch of soccer hooligans.”

“They were rugby players,” Drew said.

“Rugby, soccer, same difference.”

Trevor glanced at both of them but did not
respond. He kept on eating one of the last remaining items—a large
clutch of seedless grapes. One of the grapes squirted its juice
across Lucas’ tray.

“You ready for lab tonight, Trevor? Did you
fix that programming bug?” Lucas asked, watching Drew rearrange his
chow in alphabetical order, carefully spacing each food group a
precise distance from the others.

“
Ja
. No more system crash.”

“Good thing, because they’re taking down the
mainframe tomorrow for maintenance. After tonight, we won’t have
computer access again until late Sunday.”

“Isn’t tonight when the new lab tech
arrives?” Drew asked.

Lucas loathed the documentation requirements
of their research. “I hope so. We could use the help.”

“It’s too bad Gracie graduated. I really
liked her. She was nice.”

A smile grew on Trevor’s lips as he shoveled
in another spoonful.

Lucas had been glad to see Gracie leave. She
was always staring at him as if he were deformed in some way. She
was a quirky young woman who seemed to twitch and prance when she
got nervous, but he had to admit she was an excellent assistant.
"Let’s hope the E-121 material gets here soon. If we have to keep
running simulations, I’m going to go Bundy on somebody.”

Trevor nodded, then put his hand on Lucas’
shoulder and squeezed gently. It was clear Lucas wasn’t the only
one tired of waiting for the Navy to deliver.

He saw an abandoned newspaper sitting on a
neighboring table. “Drew, could you hand me that paper over there?
I want to see if the Board of Regents voted to increase the tuition
again—only one more semester to go, brother.”

“You’re lucky you’re done. I’ve still got a
full load to get through,” Drew said, handing the paper to
Lucas.

“Yeah. Right. You’ll ace them without
breaking a sweat; you always do. I was the one who had to study my
ass off.”

“At least you’re getting a steady paycheck.
I’m still working for free.”

“How about I trade you my puny paycheck for
your photographic memory?”

“Fine by me. I would rather work in the lab
than study, anytime.”

Lucas opened the paper and scanned through
the articles while they finished breakfast. His mind quickly
wandered, dreaming about Drew’s graduation day when his brother
would receive his PhD degree, and then be allowed to join their
anti-gravity project as a
paid
physicist. He smiled,
thinking about his mother sitting in the audience, watching Drew
roll up to the podium after hearing his name announced by the
university president. She cried at Lucas’ graduation ceremony and
figured she’d do the same for Drew. Too bad Dad didn’t live long
enough to see them both graduate with honors.

* * *

That evening, Lucas and Drew cut across the
street just west of the Student Union, headed to the John Koehn
Memorial Science Lab for their nightly shift.

The science lab’s exterior was like its
neighboring buildings, red-bricked, and shaped akin to an oversized
chalkboard eraser. Each floor was outlined by a protracted series
of evenly spaced, metal-grated windows giving it a 1950s industrial
look.

Lucas could hear the grind of motorized gears
overhead while walking through the building’s courtyard. Above him
was an 8.4-meter binocular telescope being repositioned along the
building’s roofline. The $136 million telescope was the pride of
the Astronomy Department. Funds for its construction had been
raised by Dr. D.L. Kleezebee, Dean of the Astrophysics
Department.

“Looks like they finally got that thing
operational. Kleezebee must be pleased.”

“Speaking of Kleezebee, there he is,” Drew
said, pushing his wheelchair forward with both hands.

“Where? I don’t see him.”

“He’s to the right, behind the flower
bed.”

Lucas leaned to his right to see beyond the
rose bushes blocking his view. His mentor was wearing his usual
attire, blue coveralls and an orange-colored flannel shirt,
standing bent over with one foot resting on the top of a short,
cement wall.

As they moved closer, Lucas realized
Kleezebee was talking on a cell phone. It was partially hidden by a
frazzled gray beard that stretched down to the middle of his chest.
His boss was holding a lit cigar in his other hand.

“Jesus, I can already smell that thing from
here.”

“I can’t believe he gets away with it,” Drew
replied.

“Seriously, who’s going to stop him?
Certainly not us.”

“Still, it’s against the law.”

“Never gonna happen, little brother. They
would rather look the other way than give up all the money he
raises.”

Lucas intended to stop and ask his boss about
their new lab tech, but changed his mind when he overheard
Kleezebee’s side of the conversation. He knew first hand not to
stand in the way of that flannel-covered tornado, once it got
rolling.

“Look, I don’t give a rat’s ass what you
think. You don’t know the first thing about it. Trust me, I’ve been
at this for thirty years and it’s perfectly safe. Besides that, the
rest of the committee already signed off on it . . .”

“I’ll ask him later,” Lucas said, grabbing
hold of Drew’s wheelchair and pushing him through the science lab’s
revolving door.

The brothers were waiting in line to check in
through the lab’s front desk security, when Kleezebee approached
them from behind, gently grabbing Lucas by the shoulders. “How’re
my two favorite scientists doing today?” he asked, massaging Lucas’
neck with finger squeezes.

“We’re good, boss,” Lucas replied, sliding
out of Kleezebee’s hands and turning around. The cloud of cigar
smoke on Kleezebee’s wrinkled clothes nearly knocked Lucas off his
feet. It smelled as though the professor just walked through a
rubber fire. “What’s the latest on the new lab tech?”

“She starts tonight. I think you’ll like
her—she’s brilliant. I just have to arrange her security pass, and
then I’ll send her down with Trevor. Do your best to bring her up
to speed quickly, all right?”

“Will do,” Lucas replied, praying the new
chick was not a handful.

“How’s your mom doing after her surgery?”

“She’s getting around okay. The neighbor
lady’s keeping an eye on her.”

“Are you guys planning to go home for the
holiday?”

“No, we’ve got way too much work to do
here.”

“You know, if you like, I can send Bruno to
Phoenix to pick her up for you. I’d be more than happy to let her
stay in one of my vacant apartments. I hate to think she’ll be
spending Christmas alone.”