Now & Again (7 page)

Kendall was shook up but tried to calm Josh. “Look, I don’t know about Hannah but I know Mom is as real as we are. Okay? All of this is real – it’s just not…
our
real.”

“How do we get back?”

“Back?” Kendall flared, “Back to where Mom’s dead? Is that where you’d rather be?”

Josh reacted as if he was stung. “No…not that, but…”

“But what? What do you want me to say?”

“Nothin’. It’s not that.” Josh seemed lost for words. “Look, I’ve been down here a long time and I think I may have found an idea about this.”

Kendall looked at the laptop and then at Josh. “What? Don’t tell me you Googled it? I don’t even want to hear it. You know what I think of that stuff.”

“Can I just show you somethin’?”

Kendall shrugged his agreement. He was concerned about Josh but he couldn’t believe anything on the internet would explain what they’d been through.

Josh worked the laptop and it flickered back into its search history, flipping through earlier pages.

“I tried a lot of stuff that went nowhere – things like
out-of-body experiences
and
near death
and
head trauma
.’”

Kendall rolled his eyes. Josh nodded. “I know, I know. I had to start somewhere, okay? For awhile, nothing went anywhere helpful until I stumbled on this link here.”

Kendall leaned forward to see clearer. The display showed a complex search list with a single item highlighted in blue:
Many lives in many worlds: Article: Nature. Max Tegmark. In this universe, Max Tegmark is a physicist at MIT, Cambridge, Mass.

Following this entry was a space and a linked address:
www.nature.com/nature/journal/v448/n7149/full/448023a.html.

Josh had his finger poised over the
Enter
key. “Okay? So then I clicked it.”

“Wait. Who’s Max Tegmark?”

“Forget him. He’s not what matters.”

Josh pushed the key and a new image popped up. It was the landing page for a weekly journal. The red banner at the top had prominent white letters across it that read,
Nature – International weekly journal of science
. A smaller font indicated the date it was first published online,
4 July, 2007
. Directly beneath the banner, it read:
Access – To read this story in full you will need to login or make a payment (see right)
.

Kendall shook his head in disgust. “Typical! You gotta pay just to read the damn article? And it’s five years old anyway. What a rip-off!”

“Yeah, so what else is new?” Josh agreed. “But the teaser here down below was all I needed.”

Kendall squinted over his shoulder as Josh read from the screen. “Accepting quantum physics to be universally true, argues Max Tegmark, means that you should also believe in parallel universes.”

Kendall leaned back in his chair, newly uninterested. “Oh great, what are we now, Dr. Who?”

“Just listen to me, will ya? I’m tryin’ to explain how I found this stuff. Gimme a minute and I’m tellin’ you, it’s gonna sound like what happened to us. You’ll see.”

Kendall was completely unimpressed. “Yeah, yeah, I’m listening, but it also occurs to me that I’m gonna need a new truck in the morning.”

Josh gave him a dirty look and then resumed his reading. “Almost all of my colleagues have an opinion about it, but none of them have ever read the original document about it. The first draft of Hugh Everett III’s Ph.D. thesis, which celebrates its 50th birthday this year, is buried in the out-of-print book,
The Many-Worlds Interpretation of Quantum Mechanics
.”

Kendall finished his milk and waited until he was sure Josh was done. “And? Is this Hugh guy somebody who matters?”

“He does now. He didn’t used to be important but, as far as I can tell, today’s science big wigs are in love with his ideas.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Just what I said. I don’t know what changed. Hugh Everett III was 27 when he wrote his paper. Nobody took him or his theory seriously then, so he walked away, took his PhD with him, said the hell with them, and did somethin’ else.”

“So what? Maybe mathematicians don’t like people with numbers in their names. Where’s that leave us?”

“Well, here we are, all these years later, and suddenly old Hugh’s lousy theory is the hottest girl at the dance. How about that?” Josh watched his Dad carefully, hoping for a spark of real interest.

Kendall fixed him with a vacant look. “Good for him. How does that help us?”

“I’m not sure yet.” Josh was uncomfortable. “But maybe – and I’m being serious now – maybe we oughta
talk
to him.”

“What?” Kendall shot up out of his chair. “Are you kiddin’ me? Things aren’t strange enough already, now we’re supposed to go talk to a dead guy?”

“He might not be dead,” Josh shot back, defensively. “You don’t know everything.”

“That’s crazy! He must be what, in his 80’s? And even if we find him alive, what the hell do we ask him? What’s he supposed to know anyhow?”

Josh looked up at Kendall with a cold, sober expression. “All I can say is, I’ve been sitting here readin’ and re-readin’ his paper, and while there’s lots of stuff I don’t get at all, the parts I do understand, scare the hell out of me.”

The carved wood and glass doors of the Marabou Conference room opened wide as attendees flowed out of the adjourned meeting and into a sun-filled foyer. Running the length of the conference room, a large balcony overlooked a foliage-filled atrium where pairs of whimsical birdcages were suspended above reflecting pools. The open space echoed with the cheerful songs of mockingbirds, finches and wood thrushes.

Neville Vandermark pushed through the talkative crowd. He had his eyes fixed ahead as he rapidly moved toward the executive offices at the other end of the building. Hahn and Nsamba had to rush to keep up with him. Behind them, archive managers and their staffs were gathering into ad-hoc clumps of agitated discussions.

Vandermark glanced darkly in Nsamba’s direction as they kept walking. “Taylor, I want to know everything there is to know about these jumpers – the ones in the presentation and the ones in our own line.”

“Yes, of course. I can get the teams assigned to search the archives and work out the protocols with Echo – but the ones in our timeline? What do you want with them?”

“You don’t get it, do you? If what we saw is actually true, the only way it could possibly work is if Quyron’s jumpers were jumping into themselves in other lines – lines that lagged their own. Are you following me?”

“I am starting to, but…why are you so concerned about our line?”

“Well, we sure as hell don’t want them jumping here, do we?”
Am I the only one who sees this threat for what it could be?

“I didn’t think of…”

“No, you didn’t. Lucky for you, I did. So, once you find out where our local boys live and who they know and all that, I want you to take a security team and escort them to the warehouse at
the Point
, and keep them there.”

Nsamba was shocked and almost stumbled. “What? You – you mean kidnap them?” Shocked by his own words, he furtively checked about to make sure no one had overheard.

“I didn’t say those words,” Vandermark replied, still walking. “But I will say that I don’t care how you get it done.”

“Neville, this is not Kampala.” He hurried to pull even with Vandermark. “We cannot grab people off the street here. I know you are upset about Quyron but…”

Vandermark stopped and drilled him with an ugly stare. “I’m not upset. I’m being pro-active. Something you should consider doing more of.” He lowered his voice. “Why do you think we built those warehouse cells, if not for something like this?”
Just because you lie to yourself doesn’t mean that I do.

Nsamba looked around to make sure no one except Hahn was nearby. “I never understood why you built them.” Song Lee, standing silently nearby, felt just as uncomfortable as he did.

“Well, now you know.” Vandermark said smugly.

The tall Ugandan was cowed but persistent. “I will gather a team but, seriously, I will still need some kind of paper to justify us in case we…”

“Fine, I’m sure I can get some official looking authorization signed off by some flunky, if it will make you feel better, but your best bet’s still gonna be to stay under the wire.”

Nsamba was offended. “I know how this works better than you do, I’m just saying that without some cover we…”

Vandermark snapped at him. “And I’m saying if I said you’ll get it, you’ll get it!”

Nsamba nodded, his reaction carefully shielded, and moved off toward the elevators. Vandermark tapped a tiny phone clip on his lab coat. “Echo, get me Cap over at Liaison…okay, track him then. I’ll be right here.”

While he waited, he gazed out the wall of windows in front of him. His eyes traced the horizon where rows of windswept clouds sailed the lower third of the sky. “Song Lee, you need to move up the final trials.”

Behind him, Hahn was startled to be addressed. Her face betrayed her anxiety. “But I’ve told you, we can’t be ready any sooner than next week. We’re moving too fast already. I still have more testing I need…”

Vandermark glared at her over his shoulder. “You seriously think I don’t know about your
secret
test jumps over the past weeks? What do you take me for?”

Hahn reached a hand out to steady herself and suddenly looked ill.

Vandermark gave her a crooked smile. “It’s not even that I hold it against you - I’d probably do the same thing in your shoes – but no more whining, okay? Let’s be a big girl.”

Hahn steadied herself and urgently visualized sun dappled rocks in a quiet stream and languid koi floating serenely in the current. She refused to defer to him or reply to him.

His voice turned harsh. “You will be operational by tomorrow – and
my
people will be in the seats.”

“Your people?” Caught off guard, she lost her struggle to stay calm. Her carefully structured internal picture shattered. “The – the cradles are experimental. Don’t you understand that? We’re still working things out.” She folded her arms and stiffened. “I’m not comfortable with the idea of…”

He immediately cut her off. “My people can handle the risks. That’s the point. That’s what they do – it’s their job.” Vandermark’s phone clip emitted a tiny note. He instantly tapped it and turned away from Hahn.

“Cap? Vandermark. Heads up, I need a sign-off to detain a few people, ASAP.” He listened briefly. “Yeah, the highest possible. It just needs to look official – right, whatever. We’ll be crossing state lines though…so… Okay. Call me back on the other number later – yeah, that number. I’ll dictate something and your guys can convert it into the legalese crap, okay? Right. Bye.”

He disconnected and, without a beat, focused back on Hahn. “And I don’t give a damn about your comfort.”

“But you heard Quyron we need to make sure we’re not causing something. I’ve told you we’re moving into areas no one has…”

Vandermark suddenly leaned down and got face-to-face with her. His dark eyes bored into hers. “Stop babbling nonsense and listen carefully,
Doctor
. I didn’t fast-track you and buy you every toy you ever dreamed of just so you could balk when I needed you, now did I? Or do you miss that drafty apartment in Seoul where I found you, and those ignorant grad students and the stink of cold kimchee in the dark?”

Hahn bowed her head slightly and lost her way. “No. I – I understand. But I…”

“Do you?” Vandermark recognized the moment. If he believed in anything, it was his faith in his gift to know how to bend people to his needs. “We’re at the tipping point of an era. No more dead ends. No more groveling for scraps in the timelines. We get to make the future we want. And no one, not you, and not some glorified analyst, is going to deny me that. Not even some overactive timelines. Is that clear enough for you?”

The rebuke left Hahn speechless. Vandermark straightened back to his full height. His voice was all business again, but it was clear there would be no further discussion permitted.

“You’ll provide a revised timetable by tomorrow morning. Is that understood?”

“Yes.”

Vandermark abruptly turned on his heels and ascended the gracefully curved glass stairs nearby as he headed for third floor. Oblivious to his beautiful surroundings, he was already tapping his phone as he climbed. “Echo, get Walters in personnel. Yes.”

Song Lee Hahn’s fingers had curled into tight balls, the nails making sharp dents in her palms. She had promised herself never to return to the petty male world of South Korean academia. Still, at the moment, this felt far worse. Yes, she had her labs and her experiments, and little oversight – he was right about that – yet it didn’t seem enough anymore. She couldn’t help but admire Vandermark’s mind but she was repelled by almost everything else about him, and she was beginning to detest herself for being so caught. Could Quyron be right?

Hahn watched until Vandermark disappeared at the top of the stairs. She was overwhelmed by the work she had ahead of her. Revised timetable! He didn’t seem to realize she had to revise an already overly aggressive timetable. It was one thing to alter lines on a schedule but quite another to make the revisions actually happen. This would necessitate equipment reworks, revamped target formulae, adjusted engineering workloads, added computer time, adjusted man-hours, not to mention the obligatory excuses and, her favorite, the telling of lies. She felt dishonored. The speed the new schedule demanded would increase errors, as she well knew, and there were no solutions for those. After all, who had time to check anything anymore?

Hahn hurried back down the hall, flexing the feeling back into her cramped fingers. She audaciously promised herself brighter days ahead and stuffed her qualms into a stone box in the corner of her mind, and sealed the lid. From now on, as far as she was concerned, the multiverse would just have to fend for itself.

Kendall’s eyes opened slowly. The morning light filled the soft white curtains with a fresh glow. The first thing he noticed was his irritated throat. He coughed to clear it but stayed warm under the covers as he woke up. For a moment, he felt disoriented. His eyes struggled to synchronize reality with his mind but he was unsure which way he was facing in the bed – toward the outside or toward Leah? A blink and a wider stare revealed a second pillow nearby and an empty place in the bed.
Empty place?
Startled, he sucked in air, sat up and stared at the vacant half of the mattress. His mind whirled with fear and regret. “Leah?”