Touchstone (Meridian Series) (8 page)

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Authors: John Schettler,Mark Prost

BOOK: Touchstone (Meridian Series)
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       Dorland relented, giving the professor the benefit of the
doubt. “You’re saying you wrote the hieroglyphics in a notebook?”

       “Yes, I kept a journal using hieroglyphics instead of Roman
letters—A little code I was playing with. Will it still be there? Will it
vanish, or change, just like
Lawrence
’s
Seven Pillars?”

       “No…” Paul was suddenly deep in thought, pulled into the
crux of the problem by Nordhausen’s obvious enthusiasm and distress. “No, if
you were in a Nexus Point when the change occurred then that would make you a
Free Variable, like we all were Free Variables during that first mission. In
that case…” He paused, his hand playing over his chin as he thought. “Well, the
integrity of your own personal Time Meridian should remain quite stable. It’s
very likely that your notebooks would be unaltered. The knowledge you claim to
have in your head about this stone relies upon them. They would have to exist.”

       “Then we’ve got to get over to the study! It will prove
everything I’ve been saying!”

       “But—” Paul held up a warning finger. “You have apparently
created a Gordian knot. Without the original work of the scholars who
deciphered the hieroglyphics, then how could you have ever learned to decipher
them, or even written your notebooks? That means you may be exposed to—”

       Nordhausen was up off his chair before Paul could finish
his thought, reaching out to take his friend by the arm and pull him along.

       “It’s clear that we won’t resolve this by speculation.
Let’s go look! My study is just a few minutes away.”

       “Hold on,” said Paul. “We can prove it right here.” He sat
down at a terminal and began typing.

       “What are you doing?” Nordhausen was at his side, still
very agitated, his impatience getting the better of him now.

      
“You say there was
something called the Rosetta Stone. The Golems are out searching the Internet
right now, but let me do a direct query to the on-line RAM bank—the reference
bank we’ve kept running since the incident in Wadi Rumm.” It was not long
before he had a report in hand that confirmed everything his friend was saying.

       “See what I mean?” Nordhausen was delighted. “It’s all
there: the discovery date, the significance of the find, Champollion’s work and
even good photos. Look here,” he pointed at an image. “This whole section was
gone when I saw the stone in the
British
Museum
and, without that, no one could
make the connection with the other languages. Come on—let’s go get my notebooks
and see if they’ve survived!”

       “What about Kelly and Maeve?” Paul cautioned. “There’s an
alert on, and we can’t just leave the Arch facility in the middle of things.
The Golems haven’t even finished their report yet.”

       The phone rang, on the emergency line reserved for the
senior team members, and they both craned their necks to look at it. Paul was
the first to the receiver, smiling when he heard Maeve’s voice on the other end
of the line.

       “Hello, Maeve,” he began. “You coming in soon? We’ve got an
alert from Kelly’s Golems and… What’s that? … Oh lord!” His eyes widened with
shock and surprise and Nordhausen felt his stomach churn. Paul listened, his
expression becoming more grave with each passing second.

       “We’re coming right over,” he said. “No, don’t worry about
the Arch, the Golems are working the report now and it will take them at least
an hour… Yes, I’ve got Robert right here. He’s on to something as well. Hold
on, Maeve. We’ll be there in a flash.”

       “What?” Robert was about to explode.

       “It’s Kelly,” said Paul. “He’s collapsed. They’ve got him
over at
University
Hospital
. I’m afraid your notebooks will have to wait, Robert.”

       “Collapsed?” The look on Robert’s face was plain, and it
was clear that he immediately associated this news with his own misdeed in
using the Arch. The professor was up and heading for the door in an instant,
but something jarred Paul’s thinking and his anxiety increased with every step
his friend took.
The notebooks…

       “Robert, wait! Stand where you are! Don’t take another step!”
His tone was so urgent and strained that it served as a strong leash, jerking
his friend around, who stared at him with wide eyed surprise.

       “Now what?” Nordhausen gave him an exasperated look.

       “The notebooks,” Paul repeated. “The
Meridian
has
changed
, Robert.
There’s been a Transformation. Don’t you see? I know nothing about these
hieroglyphics, the Rosetta Stone, and all the rest. But the information is safe
and sound in Kelly’s RAM bank—and in your head.”

       “Yes, yes—but we can talk about this on the way, Paul. Come
on!”

       “Let me finish!” Paul’s voice was riveting. “It’s not a
Gordian knot, Robert. It’s Paradox I’m worried about now. It’s
you
. The
information about the Rosetta stone is in your head too, alive and well. But if
you set foot outside the protective bubble of the Arch Nexus, then…”

       “Then what?”

       “You expose yourself to Paradox—Free Variable or not. Time
has no way to account for your knowledge of the glyphs if you set one foot
outside this room.” He folded his arms, his breathing finally stilled now that
he had given birth to his fear and delivered his warning.

       Nordhausen just stared at him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Part III

 

Schroedinger’s
Box

 

 

“Contradiction should awaken the
attention, not passion.”

 


Thomas Fuller
:
Gnomologia

7

 

The revelation
had shocked the professor, but his emotions transitioned quickly
as he thought on it.

       “You mean to say that I’m trapped in here? If I leave the
Lab then I’m going to be … erased, like Kelly?”

       “Possibly,” said Paul.

       “But you said I was a Free Variable.”

       “That too,” Paul equivocated.

       “Well, which is it? Am I going to vanish or not?”

       “I don’t know—but why take the risk? I can go check on
Kelly while you remain on station here. We’ve got an alert on, remember? The
whole point of this setup was  to get one of us safely under the influence of
the Arch Nexus so we could research the Variance and see what could be done
about it.”

       “But Kelly…”

       “I’ll go. You stay here, safe in the Nexus.”

       Nordhausen hesitated, torn between Paul’s warning and his
overriding sense of guilt, heightened by the fear that he was somehow
responsible for Kelly’s collapse. His emotions roiled, and the tension was
pulling at his face as he struggled to know what to do. Then he reached an
inner conclusion, his jaw set, his eyes hard as he spoke.

       “No,” he said flatly.

       “But Robert, I’m not fooling around here. The risk is very
real. You know about the hieroglyphics, and that creates an impossible
contradiction in the world outside this room—outside the influence of the Nexus
Point. As long as the Arch is running we can maintain a safe Nexus here until
we decide what to do.”

       “No!” Robert’s tone was even more adamant. “Until we decide
what to do? Listen to yourself, Paul. How long might that take? We can’t keep
the Arch running forever—and I damn well won’t be a prisoner here because of a
glitch in your time theory.”

       “It’s more than a glitch, Robert—it’s Paradox.  Christ,
we’ve one member of the team down already. Now what if you vanish in a haze the
instant we set foot outside this lab?”

       “I won’t,” said Nordhausen. “I’m a Free Radical—you said it
yourself—and more than that: I’m a Prime Mover. My head is a living process.
It’s a mini-Nexus all on its own. Time wouldn’t dare lay her greedy little
hands on me. I was the one who deciphered the
Palma
clues that led us to Minifir. I’m an original Founding Father.
You hear me?” He shouted that last bit at the ceiling, not at Paul, as if he
were hurling a challenge at Mother Time herself, daring her to interfere.

       “No,” he said again. “Kelly’s down, and I’m responsible—responsible
for it
all
—for every living being outside that door: all the misery, the
suffering, for everything that’s going amiss now, or ever will go wrong because
of my foolish meddling. It all depends on me. I’m the one that caused it, and
if time wants me, then by God, let her
have
me. But I’ve got to see
about Kelly, one way or another, no matter what happens.”

       His expression was almost pleading now, tormented by
everything he had concluded. Paul knew that there would be no stopping him, so
he stepped quickly to Nordhausen’s side, putting his arm on his shoulder.

       “Then we’ll go together,” he said with finality. “I’ll
second your motion. If time wants to pick a fight with you, then I’ve got your
back, Robert. She’ll have to take on the two of us. Let’s go.”

       They started for the door. In spite of his resolve,
Nordhausen could not help the thumping of his heart as they pushed it open and
stepped into the foyer. His mouth was dry and a sheen of sweat misted his
brow.  The cooler air of the outer foyer played upon his forehead, giving him a
momentary start when he felt the chill.

       He hesitated, a shiver taking him as he stood there. What
if Paul was right? Then he felt his friend’s reassuring touch at his elbow, and
his strength returned.

       “I’m a bloody damn Prime!” he bellowed, his voice echoing
in the foyer. “You want me? Here I bloody well am!”

       Paul could not help smiling, in spite of his own anxiety.
As they pressed ahead, he cast furtive glances this way and that, as if he
expected to see a pack of ravenous hounds fall upon them the instant they set
foot outside the door. There was a bluster of wind outside, a low growl that
preyed upon his emotions.

       But nothing happened to them. They pressed on, Nordhausen
boldly pushing at the outer door until it gave way and they were out in the
twilight of the early evening as it settled on the parking lot.

       “Well, that’s done it,” Paul breathed. “We’re outside the
Nexus for sure now. How do you feel?”

       “I’m fine,” said Nordhausen. “I told you, Paul. You said it
yourself. We’re all Prime Movers now—possibly more. We’re imperative to the
whole
notion
of time travel. You don’t fuck with an imperative, my
friend. I’m fine—you’re fine— “

       “Then what’s happened to Kelly?” said Paul, and a bit of the
bravado eclipsed in Nordhausen’s eyes. “I wouldn’t be so smug until we figure
that out, Robert. But the fact that I was proven wrong just now leads me to
believe that the Nexus is deeper than we thought. It’s not just the physical
Nexus about the Arch now…it’s something more. Time is waiting. She isn’t
certain what to do. I’m not exactly certain either, but whatever the answer is,
you and I have something to do with the outcome.”

 

~

 

       The two men had much on their minds as they drove to
University
Hospital
. When they got there, they rushed to Kelly’s room, and met a
worried Maeve Lindford, pacing the hallway in front of his door. She was
wearing a casual khaki colored suit over a loose white silk blouse. She had
evidently been called away from her classroom, since she was carrying her
pigskin book bag slung over her shoulder and had a brace of dry-erase markers
in her breast pocket.

As soon as she noticed the two
men, she hurried down the hall toward them, and said, “The doctors don’t know
what’s wrong with him, none of the medicine seems to have any effect on him…
he’s disoriented… in and out of consciousness, and…”  She gave them both a
searching look. “I think it might be temporal… some kind of after effect from
the first project drop. God only knows. I thought you said you two had this
figured out!” She wheeled in anger. “So what are you going to do now?”

Dorland held up his hands in
front of him warding off the emotional onslaught. “Maeve, we don’t know what’s
going on just yet. Let’s not jump to conclusions. Calm down—”

She cut in. “Don’t give me that.
You know
exactly
what is going on here. One of your time shenanigans is
expressing itself! Some consequence from whatever you two have been up to since
you started that machine up again.”

 “Maeve…” Nordhausen tried to
intercede.

“And you! You are in this hand
and glove! Are you satisfied? Kelly’s life signs are so faint they can barely
read him at times. Damn it! Fix this—now!”

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