Nobody Gets The Girl (13 page)

Dr. Know faced him. He smiled gently, with
the hint of a twinkle in his eye. "Perhaps when I say that I am to
blame for evil in this world, you imagine that I speak
metaphorically."

"You're not Satan," said Richard. "Wait. That
would explain a lot."

"I'm not Satan," said Dr. Know. "But Satan
didn't create evil."

"Then you're not God."

Dr. Know nodded. "I happen to know there is
no God."

"Really," said Richard. "I'm not exactly
religious, but blanket statements like that get me looking for
lightning bolts. How can you be so certain God doesn't exist?"

"Because," said Dr. Know. "I was there when
this universe was created. God was nowhere to be seen."

Richard studied the doctor, searching his
face for some hint of a joke. "You mentioned that universe thing
the day I met you. Sarah's also alluded to it. Does this have
something to do with your time machine?"

"So much would have been different if my
grandparents had never left Russia," said Dr. Know. "Because of my
heritage, and because of my groundbreaking research on quantum
mechanics, I was closely watched by the American military
establishment during the late 1950s. Eventually, I learned to use
their paranoia to my advantage. I made it known that the fruits of
my research could be used to develop weaponry more powerful than
even the H-bomb. This led to a long and intellectually profitable
alliance with the American government. I was supplied with nearly
limitless funds and equipment as I pursued my research into the
energy potential of pure vacuum. The entire space race was
concocted to mask the enormous expenditures the United States was
making on the V-bomb."

"The V-bomb?" said Richard.

"The vacuum bomb."

"I feel inadequate," said Richard. "I know
there's a joke here using the word 'suck,' but for the life of me I
can't think of the punch line."

"I was, of course, disturbed by the prospect
of the V-bomb actually being used in wartime. I deluded myself into
believing that after one display of its potential, the world would
shun its awful power and turn toward a path of peace. In truth, I
didn't care about the consequences. All I wanted was proof of my
theories."

"Which were?"

"One of the basic conclusions of quantum
mechanics is that there is no such thing as a true vacuum.
Particles and anti-particles constantly spring forth from pure
nothingness, and annihilate each other. In theory, the vacuum is a
source of infinite, inexhaustible energy. I felt certain I knew how
to tap into this energy. Vacuum had undergone one phase transition
shortly after the Big Bang, and still contained the potential for
another."

"You're losing me," said Richard.

"At the time of the Big Bang, all of creation
was confined in an infinitely tiny space. Yet, even then, there was
vacuum. But the vacuum was, for all intents and purposes, solid.
Only as the universe expanded did it melt."

"I'll take your word for it."

"In the summer of 1968, I went into a bunker
three miles beneath the Nevada desert and made the worst mistake of
my life. I proved my theory correct. With the power of twenty-two
carefully focused H-bombs, we were able to shock a tiny,
magnetically confined vacuum to reverse its phase transaction, for
only a nanosecond. And when the vacuum melted back to its normal
state... well, I found out just how 'infinite' infinite energy
could be. I died instantly, of course. The vacuum phase shift had
recreated the conditions present at the Big Bang. There was no
stopping it. A new Big Bang was happening, and in far less than a
second, Earth, the sun, our entire solar system, were wiped out in
the expansion of the new universe I'd given birth to."

"Tragic," said Richard, rapping his knuckles
soundly against a nearby tank. "So what's all this we're standing
in? Your story might be a tiny bit more plausible if the world no
longer existed."

"I think I was Schrodinger's cat," said Dr.
Know.

"Come again?"

"Surely you have heard of Schrodinger's cat.
It's the most famous metaphor in all of quantum physics."

"Oh!" said Richard, slapping his forehead.
"
Schrodinger's
cat! I thought you said Schlessinger."

"It's a famous thought experiment. You place
a cat in a box along with a vial of poison. There is a fifty
percent chance that the vial of poison has broken while the lid is
closed. Without opening the box, we can't know if the cat is dead
or alive. So, we must regard it as both alive and dead
simultaneously, until an observation is made.”

“Yeah, but it isn’t,” said Richard. “It’s one
or the other.”

“You can’t know until you open the box.”

“Whatever. I find it plausible that you’ve
actually put cats and poison into boxes to test this out. I accept
the premise. Move on.”

"Your discomfort with the idea isn’t
uncommon. The metaphor reveals perhaps the most controversial
concept of quantum mechanics, the notion that particles exist in
all possible states simultaneously until an observer makes a
measurement, collapsing the possible states into one."

"Again," said Richard, "I'll take your word
for it."

"Then I ask you to also take my word that I
was still alive after the Big Bang I had caused. I don't know how.
I don't know why. I existed as consciousness unfettered by matter.
My condition panicked me. I was trapped in unbroken darkness and
silence. I didn't yet comprehend what had happened. With no lungs
to draw a breath, no throat to form sounds, and no tongue to shape
syllables, I spoke: 'Will someone please turn on the lights?'"

"And there was light?" guessed Richard.

"And there was everything. I was standing in
the observation room, in the presence of the nation's top military
commanders. The room was exactly the same as it was before, except
my clothes were gone. I knew this not only from the touch of air on
my skin, and from the evidence of my eyes, but from the evidence of
the eyes of everyone in the room. Everything they thought, felt,
and saw was in my head. The cacophony of sensory input was too much
for me to bear. I began to scream, to shriek, to gibber. I was
quickly confined and dragged away.

"I knew what had happened. The old universe
truly did die that day. A new one was born. And I was the observer
that collapsed the possibilities. There's no need to open the box
to make an observation. There's already an observer present—the
cat. I was the cat in the box. It was my consciousness that snapped
the new reality into order. It was my knowledge of physics that
gave the new universe its physical rules. But I didn't know all the
rules. I understood the basic physical laws of nature better than
any man, but my knowledge was still limited. The world was put
together exactly the way I understood it to be. And it included
certain 'improvements.' I had often fantasized about superhuman
powers. I was a child during World War II, and drowned out worries
about the war by reading a nearly limitless supply of comic books.
The amazing things I read sparked my interest in science. I
remember the sense of disappointment I felt as my knowledge of
science increased. I understood why men could never fly just by
jumping hard, or why no one could ever run faster than a mile in
under three minutes, or why I would never be able to read other
people's minds. But I still dreamed that such things might
exist."

Richard was flabbergasted. "So, you're saying
you and your daughters have superhuman powers because you put the
universe back together wrong?"

"Precisely. And all the evil, all the
darkness, all the pain and suffering in the world exist because, in
that brief instant of confusion, I wished for a world where such
things existed. I had the power to create paradise. If I had
understood the truth of what was happening, if I'd had had time to
contemplate, imagine the world that could be! A world of peace and
love, a world of beauty without flaw or blemish. I could have
imagined Heaven. I didn't. I imagined... I imagined the world we
now live in, with its poverty and hunger and violence. The dark
brutal soul of a man who builds bombs cannot provide the template
for a kind world. Now, if I wish for a world of peace, love, and
beauty, I must build it from the materials at hand."

Richard shook his head. "This is crazy.
You’re crazy. I’m crazy.”

"I hope that what you've learned today will
change your mind about me, Richard. I’m not a perfect man, and this
is not a perfect world. But I’m working to make a difference. Are
you with me?"

CHAPTER ELEVEN

HI, HONEY, I'M HOME

Richard wandered from Sarah's room fumbling
absentmindedly with her lighter. His brain felt as blistered and
tired as his feet had felt after running all over Washington. How
was he supposed to deal with this? How was he supposed to judge
right and wrong? A month ago the biggest test of his morality had
been whether or not to cheat on his wife. Now he didn't have a
wife, never had a wife, and he had to make decisions about life and
death, good and evil. He had to decide if the man he worked for was
the creator of the universe or just some mad genius with pitiful
delusions. And creator or madman, Dr. Know did have a plan to
change the world. Was it a good plan? Could making the world a
better place justify the things Richard had seen? Who was he to
decide such things? He was Nobody.

So Nobody sat on the front steps of the
mansion, and tapped out a cigarette from the pack. He'd taken the
cigarettes from Sarah's room. He'd never smoked before, but after
about twenty seconds of practice he found the whole process
surprisingly easy. He used to find the smell repelling. Now, the
smell and taste reminded him of Sarah. He closed his eyes and
thought of her.

Dr. Know was mad. The babble of V-bombs and
recreated universes and living dead cats was all the proof Richard
needed. He didn't believe a word of it, and consequentially
thoroughly disbelieved all talk of time machines and erased
realities. There must be some other explanation. Any minute now, it
would come to him. Any minute now.

But, of course, as the mighty and powerful
guests of Dr. Know left the mansion, they trod right through him as
they descended the steps.

"You're Nobody," he said to himself. But it
sounded false. It sounded like a surrender he wasn't ready to
make.

"I’m Richard Rogers," he said. And he was.
This felt truthful. He was the same man he'd always been.

"I might be reality impaired," he said. "But
I'm still me." He watched the visitors heading back to their
helicopters.

"I need to get away from this insanity," he
said, pausing to take another puff of the cigarette. "It's making
me talk to myself. No it isn't. Yes it is."

The President of the United States came down
the steps, grumbling to the black-suited Secret Service agent who
accompanied him.

"This is going too far," the President said,
but he didn't sound convinced. "That pig-headed son-of-a-bitch is
going to ruin everything we've worked for."

The agent nodded.

Richard followed.

"You heard the way he talks to us," said the
President. "He's getting cocky, and the whole thing's going to come
down around our ears if we don't take steps to stop him."

Richard wondered if Dr. Know was listening to
the President's thoughts at the moment. It would explain a lot,
assuming it was true. If Dr. Know could be privy to every thought
of every world leader, he would be in a position to demand almost
anything. There wasn't a safe secret for anyone anywhere. No wonder
Dr. Know acted as if he was king of the world.

Richard boarded the helicopter with the
President and made himself comfortable. He lit another cigarette.
He tried his first smoke ring. Sarah made it look so easy.

"Do you smell smoke?" the President asked as
they rose into the air.

"No sir," said the Secret Service man.

THE WHITE HOUSE
kitchen was just
amazing. Dr. Know's mansion had been pretty well stocked, but Dr.
Know and his family had unfortunately shown rigorous regard for
their health. The White House had fresh fruits and vegetables, but
even better, it was stocked with potato chips, cookies, ice cream
and soft drinks. No wonder the President looked a little chubby
these days. Richard pigged out without qualms. He was invisible.
What did it matter if he put on a few pounds?

He gathered together a great big box of junk
food and slinked off to one of the guest bedrooms. He clicked on
the TV and kicked back, going through a box of chocolate chip
cookies as his mind turned to mush watching cartoons.

He wondered if he would meet Abe Lincoln.
He'd heard that Abe was supposed to haunt the White House. Of
course, if Abe didn't turn up, maybe he could become Abe Lincoln.
He could use his new abilities to spook guests at the White House,
give them a good show, something to tell the friends back home
about. He still had a bit of the show biz bug in him.

He sighed, and clicked aimlessly through the
channels. So it had come to this. Vegging out in the White House
with a new career of scaring vacationers as the only things he had
to look forward to.

He ate the last cookie in the box.

He resolved, then and there, that he would
kill himself. The notion gripped him firmly for upward of seventeen
seconds.

He sat up in the bed and cradled his head in
his hands. "What am I going to do?" he said.

RICHARD HIT THE
road the following
morning. During the night, he'd come up with the perfect plan for
how to spend the rest of his life. He'd used a computer at the
White House to track down Veronica. She was living with her husband
in Asheville, North Carolina, where she taught school. He had the
printout with a map to her house stuck in his pocket. He would find
her, and spend the rest of his life as her guardian angel.