11. Solution to an Employment Problem
If you are reading this, I, Jeff Cranson, have recently died. World political and science leaders are probably again recalling the Nexus Incident and singing praises of my greatness as a hero scientist. School children are writing essays on my life. Movies recounting the incident are being shown on TV. Spare your tears. Here I will here tell you the truth regarding the Nexus Incident. Perhaps then you will want to reconsider my hero status. Maybe you need your heroes more than you need the truth, but that's your problem. Nothing I say will detract from my towering scientific reputation however, which is well deserved.
On that faithful, historic day of discovery many years ago I arrived in time to watch Jason T. Thortan III via several monitors as he impatiently swaggered about the small Nexus Portal forward observation room, muttering obscenities. I'm sure that the appearance of this arrogant shit-head of a man is well known to you all, as his likeness still adorns paintings, statues and postage stamps. He was a large man, well over six feet tall and two-hundred eighty pounds in weight. He used his size to intimidate, but more than that, he used his wealth. Worse, he used his ruthless, egotistical, hateful personality to terrorize anyone he came into contact with. He terrorized me, and that was his downfall, as well as mine, and nearly yours.
Thortan paused to peer through the two feet thick tempered glass window at the empty steel platform that formed the base of the Nexus Portal. “WITH-ER-SPOON,” he suddenly glared into a camera and thundered. “WHAT’S THE HOLD UP NOW? TIME IS MONEY. YOUR TIME, MY MONEY.” He was practically frothing at the mouth; Thorton’s personal well paid for historians would doubtless edit this out of the official historical record before giving it to the press, but I’m writing this, not them.
Poor old Mark Witherspoon smiled when I arrived in response to his personal invitation, but now moments later due to Thortan’s tirade he nearly fell out of his chair. A real trooper, he still managed to pick up a microphone in a thin, shaking, wrinkled hand to reply nervously over the COM link. "Sorry sir. We had some regressive computations to do, due to an unexpected solar flare-up. We feel that we can compensate for the increased radiation densities. But, er."
Thortan’s eyes rolled impatiently. “But, er WHAT Witherspoon? I have a meeting with two Senators and a dozen other VIPs in half an hour, to announce our success in front of the world press. I have schedules to meet, financial obligations to fulfill.”
Witherspoon, still mentally gathering himself, had to nervously clear his voice before he could continue, which of course must have pleased that tyrant Thortan, because a faint smile formed on his lips. More than anything he loved to see his underlings quake and grovel before him. "Sir, do we have to do this experiment now? Several of the staff have advised strongly against it. Jeff Cranson even had doubts before he left, and we really value his views on this." The old man glanced at me and winked.
On the monitors Thortan tensed and his face reddened at the mention of my name, a reaction that did not displease me. It was a nice for a change to be spying on Thortan, instead of the other way around. “Cranson, Cranson; I’m tired of hearing about Cranson. He’s the bastard that started all this. All this expensive damned research done and what does the Thortan Corporation have to show for it? Over twenty billion dollars in expenses, that’s what, and still not a glimmer of anything marketable. You're leading this effort now, remember Witherspoon? Are you telling me that without Cranson you can't transfer the probe?"
Witherspoon didn’t even blink, the old scientist finally had his shields in place. I had to admire his ability to put up with all the crap that Thortan threw at him. "No, Mr. Thortan, certainly not. We can do the experiment, but it's the possible implications that concern us. We don't know for sure exactly what properties matter from another universe will have.”
"Of course you don't!" Thortan replied, sarcastically. “Get a grip, man. How the hell can we ever hope to make any money pussy footing around like this? I bought all this ridiculously expensive lab equipment so that you and your team can test the blasted samples that the probe will bring back. THEN you'll know the properties of the stuff! And then, you'll figure out something about the stuff that will SELL! Super conductivity, fire resistance, super strength, or SOMETHING! But you see, Witherspoon, you first have to send the probe through the Nexus Portal before you can do any of that. Correct?"
"Yes sir," the old man replied, "but...."
"No more excuses, Witherspoon. Time is money! Just get it done. NOW!"
"Yes, Mr. Thortan,” replied Witherspoon. “The Class 1 probe is being positioned." He signaled his right–hand man Rick Smith to continue.
After turning off the microphone Mark turned towards me and shrugged. “I tried, Jeff. You know how he is.”
Did I ever! "Yeah, I know.” I made the biggest breakthroughs in the history of science and that bastard wouldn’t let me publish a damn thing. I quit my job with the Thortan Corporation, but it did me no good. My ideas are company property, or so his lawyers said, and his paid-off judge agreed. “He’ll never change, and never let-up on me.”
Mark Witherspoon nodded. "He hates you more than ever, Jeff, with every penny he spends on this project. If Thortan were to found out that you're here, I don’t know what he’d do. But I wasn’t about to attempt another Portal experiment without you on hand." He smiled and clasped my shoulders warmly. We had always gotten along, Mark and I. But then again Mark got along with everyone, while Thortan got along with nobody, least of all me.
Meanwhile Thortan was looking through the viewing window again and smiling at the sight of the probe slowly being lowered by a pneumatic robot arm onto the solid steel Nexus platform. The probe was a deceptively small device. From a roughly spherical body only twice the diameter of a basketball, spouted an array of small mechanical appendages, including spider-like legs that were designed to allow the probe to traverse most types of terrain, arms equipped with various grasping, penetrating, and scraping tools, and antennas and collectors for transmitting and sensing energy and matter in its manifold forms. On the sphere's surface were tiny optical sensors. Inside the probe, a complex assemblage of miniaturized sensors, computers, batteries, and engines were undergoing final automated self-test. Rick Smith’s design was amazing. The initial concept for the probe was mine, but it had taken Rick's engineering genius to build it.
I knew that none of these particulars interested Thortan in the least. What did greatly interest him was that each Class 1 probe cost a hundred million of his dollars, and that previously two other Class 1 probes had been lost through the Nexus Portal.
"Energizing the Portal," Witherspoon announced. The super conducting grid around the platform and probe started to glow blue/white as terra-watts of power surged through it, and the probe faded from view in a brilliant white bubble of light. It was a bubble that formed a gateway to another universe, according to my theories.
I mostly ignored the light show, for I had no doubts about my theories. Instead I watched Thortan as with wide eyes he witnessed the tremendous expenditure of energy occurring only a few feet away from him. I had to smile, for he looked frightened. Perhaps for just a moment he regretted banishing the entire science team from the forward observation room. His ego had demanded that he be the only person to directly witness the experiment. He doubtlessly reasoned that as the first human being to see samples of matter from another universe with his own eyes, he would become even more famous, which would lead to billions more in investment dollars, and to increased personal power.
"We have sensor lock with probable solid objects," Smith reported. "Thermal readings are favorable. The probe should be trying to acquire samples now."
Thortan didn't understand my theories very well of course, but then neither did anyone else. Only a handful of Company scientists claimed to understand my theories on multiple universes, and most of them were probably lying. The only part that Thortan understood was that the samples that the probe brought back through the Nexus Portal coul
d be virtually priceless.
Thortan planned to sell samples to governments and museums of course, reaping billions, but that was just the tip of the iceberg. According to the Company staff, the retrieved matter would be different enough from anything on Earth to totally revolutionize the science of matter and commercial technology of materials. Whatever was to be discovered, Thortan's company had sole legal rights to it, and would bring it to market. It could be worth hundreds of billions in profits.
"Report status, Witherspoon!" ordered Thortan.
"Maintaining lock; status green," he reported.
I smiled when I saw Thortan cringe. Mark told me that he had said exactly those same words the last time, just before losing the probe while all reported status was green. Thortan paced nervously around the observation room and looked at his watch. I knew what he was thinking. If it works this time, how long will the return of the probe take? I estimated less then a minute, but that view was highly controversial. Several of the Company scientists estimated that it could take an infinity of time, a view that was apparently supported by the earlier probe losses. They were wrong, of course.
"Probe incoming!" Mark announced, and the rest of the control room team broke out in cheers. As we stared wide-eyed at the monitors, the glowing bubble suddenly disappeared, and the probe popped into view. It looked completely unchanged.
Had it really gone anywhere? On the phone earlier Mark had told me that Thortan suspected that the whole thing was all just some sort of clever hoax orchestrated by his over-paid science team, and that the whole damn science staff were secretly millionaires from subcontractor and construction union kickbacks. That was Thortan, always attributing his own lack of morality to others.
"Data transmission from the probe is underway," announced Smith. We were silent now, as we watched on the monitors the first recorded video from another universe.
The screens were completely blank. "What we are not seeing checks out as good data;” Smith announced. “There just isn't supposed to be any visible light in the other universe, so a blank video is expected and confirms that the probe left this universe. We also have readings from several other instruments, but they all seem rather unusual."
Thortan cursed profusely, which of course would subsequently be edited from the historical video.
"Nothing to worry about yet Mr. Thortan," consoled Witherspoon. "We expected unusual readings. It may take weeks to sort through the data, even with our advanced processing capabilities."
But Thortan was ignoring the recording and staring at the probe. "Never mind the damned data! Where the hell are my samples?" Through the port, we could clearly see several probe 'hands'. They were empty. As far as we could tell, the probe had brought back nothing material at all.
The platform and probe started to slowly rotate. "The sample is being held by the robot arm that should be coming into your view shortly Mr. Thortan," said Smith. Sure enough, a tiny object was being held in the pincer of one of the small arms. It looked like a crumpled piece of aluminum foil, about an inch long.
"Christ!" swore Thortan. "I paid twenty billion for a damned candy bar wrapper?" As we watched, the probe's arm extended very slowly, and gently placed the object into a shallow, bowl-like, ceramic container that was presented to the probe by one of the huge mechanical arms that populated the lab surrounding the Nexus platform. "It sure as hell doesn't look like much from here!" he remarked caustically. "Why is it so small?"
"The probe and lab sensors indicate the maximum load limit," said Smith. "About ten kilos. Whatever it is, it's far denser than any ordinary Earthly material that we know of, though it isn't what we expected, to be sure. Let’s get a closer view." A camera was already approaching the disk. Everyone watched the viewing screens as it zoomed in.
To the astonishment of as all, it did indeed resemble a candy bar wrapper!
The lab erupted into more shouts of joy and clapping as I confronted a grinning Mark Witherspoon. “But the sample density is far too high,” I told him. He seemed not to hear me.
“Not now, Jeff, or Thortan will catch you here. You will officially arrive in about half an hour, escorted by the press. Got out of here with Rick now.”
“What? Did you hear me? What about the high sample density?”
“We’ll handle that, Jeff. This is your big moment. Go with Rick.”
My big moment? Mark must have something planned, I figured, but Rick, if he knew what it was, wouldn’t reveal anything as he rushed me to the rear entrance of the facility. I cooled my heels for a few minutes in a small lobby.
Suddenly, the lobby was swamped with reporters, all clamoring to talk to me. Dr. Jeffrey C. Cranson, soon to be world famous physicist, had to be rushed back into the facility through the rear entrance, where, with videos rolling and cameras flashing, I was met by my old friend and mentor, Dr. Mark Witherspoon.
The contrast between us in terms of appearance was probably striking. Witherspoon, tall, thin and gray haired, dressed in a white lab smock over white shirt and plain dark tie, was old enough to be my grandfather. I was a small, slight young man with a shaggy, jet black head of hair, including full beard. I wore blue jeans and flannel shirt, the same clothes that I wore the day I quit working for Thortan five years earlier.
While Thortan held his VIP news conference, in another meeting room Witherspoon started his own, in front of a half-dozen news cameras. "For many decades, using Einstein's General Theory of Relativity as a starting point, theoretical physicists had tried to determine a satisfactory grand unified theory, or G-U-T, for our Universe, a theory to tie together all the basic physical relationships that had been painstakingly discovered over the last several centuries."
He looked at me and pointed. "Jeff Cranson's Multiverse Theories not only provide a GUT for our Universe, but for other theoretically possible universes as well. Cranson's theories are so revolutionary and comprehensive, that they easily put Cranson in the same league as Albert Einstein or beyond. He wanted to publish those theories and receive the recognition that he deserves. He quit his job to do so and it earned him a lawsuit. The Thortan Corporation insists that all theories discovered by its employees are owned totally by the Corporation. Court orders were issued to keep Cranson from disclosing his theories, and Thortan retained ownership of the theory and of any resulting technology, including the Nexus experiment concept, which was also conceived by Cranson. Today I wanted to point out to the world that Jeff Cranson is the man most responsible for our success today. In fact, he has continued to help us unofficially."
It was a good speech, but it addressed only the tip of the iceberg. Except for infrequent correspondence with Witherspoon, I had been cut off from all Multiverse theoretical work and Nexus experiments. Thortan used his influence to black-ball me in the scientific community; it took me two years to even get a job teaching high school. Eventually I had other offers, but they didn't interest me. The vindictiveness of Thortan had cost me my marriage and perhaps much of my sanity for five long years.
After our news conference Mark received the expected terse phone-call from Thortan; then we waited in Thortan's office for him to show up. Our little off-the-books working relationship was public now. Mark handed me legal release forms to sign, which attested that any information exchanged was the sole property of Thortan Corporation. "Sorry Jeff," Mark apologized. "Thortan wants these signed, you know how he is."
"Only too well." I smiled as I signed the forms, appreciating the irony. I had already been contributing my services free to the Nexus project for the last five years through Witherspoon! "Now let's get back to today's experiment. I still don't see how you solved the scale problem!"
Witherspoon looked away, verifying my suspicions.
"My God Mark! You didn't solve the problem, did you!"
Just then the door to the office swung open, and in strode Thortan.
"Well, well! We are honored again at last by the presence of the great Dr. Cranson. How you doing Jeff?"
He shook my hand firmly. Much too firmly, as always. It was one of the things that Thortan did to dominate everyone and everything. It was just one of the many things that I hated about the man.
Thortan glared at Witherspoon. "You surprised me today. Don't do it again. Did he sign the standard forms?" Witherspoon handed the release forms to him. Thortan glanced at the signatures, and then, holding the papers in front of me, made a great show of tearing them to pieces.
"I don't need those, do I Cranson? You understand that now, don't you? You must have learned SOMETHING over the last five years, BOY!"
I stood my ground quietly, facing Thortan, staring up impassively into the big man's eyes, without flinching. I wouldn't be intimidated; I knew from experience that this was one of the things that Thortan hated about me.
"Sure, Cranson, you know what I'm talking about," sneered Thortan. He glanced at Witherspoon. The old man had a look of utter astonishment on his face. "But our innocent friend Witherspoon doesn't. So, I'll explain. You see, I control the multiverse theory and related technology, including Nexus. YOUR baby Cranson! Which is why you are here at last, just DYING to know what's going on!" Thortan swaggered around the room. "Over the last five years you've had only limited employment, but you've recently turned down six solid job offers that I know of. All because you're stuck on this one problem, aren't you! This multiverse business is your sole interest in life. But nobody else is playing in this game, are they, Cranson? HERE is where the action is! So you just couldn't stay away, could you?"
I didn't respond. I didn't have to. It was all true and we both knew it. But Thortan wasn't through yet. He stood now in front of Mark and I and looked us over. "And that's also why you two have been secretly collaborating for the last five years, isn't it?"
Witherspoon's jaw dropped.
"Yes, of course I knew," continued Thortan. "Not that I mind, gentlemen. Why shouldn't I get free support out of you, Cranson? The bottom line is this. I control you, Cranson, because I control Nexus. You may not be officially on my payroll Cranson, but I still own you."
I wondered if Thortan knew that I had a black belt in Karate. I was tempted to strike him, to perhaps crush his larynx and quickly kill him, but I had other plans. Plans that had taken me years to advance.
Just then Smith came running into the room, looking very upset. "You all better come!" he said. "Something is happening to the probe!" Tension broken, we all followed Smith to view the Nexus Laboratory.
Sure enough, the probe was leaning to one side, and the pincer that had initially held the sample had completely disappeared. The entire surface of the probe was peppered with tiny holes.
"Something very strange and wrong is happening," pronounced Witherspoon, his voice shaking. "We’ll investigate right away!”
“I’ll help you, Mark,” I volunteered, and shot Thortan a glance. “Free of charge, of course.”
Two days later, I called a meeting with Witherspoon and Thortan. "There's good news and bad news," I began.
"OK Cranson, let's have it," demanded Thortan. "What the hell is eating my probe? Is it acid or something?"
I smiled grimly. "The good news is that I think that I know what's wrong. I'm afraid that the bad news is that we can't do anything about it."
"We can't do anything about what?" demanded Thortan.
"The conversion. Here, let me show you the Lab, and I'll try to explain." I turned on the conference room view screen. We were looking at what had been Thortan's multi-billion dollar Nexus Laboratory. The camera panned around the room, viewing the devastation. The probe was completely gone of course, but now all the other equipment looked as if it was slowly being eaten away. Bits and pieces of virtually unidentifiable equipment were lying about on the floor, or what was left of the floor, for the floor itself was now cracked to pieces like some huge jigsaw puzzle, and deeply pitted. Shallower cracks and pits had formed on the walls of the chamber also, towards the bottom. There was a metallic shine to much that they saw, like the sample that had been brought back. The original sample itself may have been lying on the floor somewhere, but now couldn't be distinguished from the wreckage.
The sight incensed Thortan. "The damage is incredible! Billions of dollars in equipment is disappearing before our eyes! Destroyed! And we can't do anything, you say? I don't believe it! You mean to say that we'll lose the whole damn facility?"
"Yes, of course, that and much more."
"More! What the hell are you talking about? How much more?" asked Thortan.
"The Earth certainly, to begin with. Then our solar system. Over more billions of years, perhaps all of our Universe."
Witherspoon turned pale and seemed to stop breathing.
Thortan laughed, though it seemed forced. "That's nuts! You don't know what you're talking about."
"I'm afraid I do, Thortan. You see, your probe brought back material that is different from anything that we have ever seen. Your team raced to get data before the equipment was destroyed, and they did a wonderful job. They hit the sample with just about every type of interaction known to science. And of course none of the results made sense, in terms of our own laws of nature. It was primarily the sample's mass and electromagnetic wave absorption rates that I used to at last identify the sample as matter from universe Type 3."
Witherspoon, who had been pacing the floor, clutched at his thinning gray hair and sat down hard, obviously disturbed by the news.
"What the hell does that mean, Cranson?," spat Thortan. "And don't you snow me with your scientific jargon! Tell me now and keep it in English!"
"Well, in a nutshell, our Universe's structure is believed to have been formed billions of years ago during what is known as the 'big bang'. In an instant, in that crucible of infinities, all fundamental particles and their interactions were forged. Understanding the structure that the big bang set up has been the pursuit of physics for more than a century, and only recently has that pattern been fully defined and modeled in a comprehensive grand unified theory, or GUT."
I continued. "However, elegant as that model is of our Universe, there are multiple mathematical solutions to my Multiverse Theory that also constitute consistent, viable universe models. Solutions where the fine structure constant is different. Where the strength of gravity is different. Where quarks and other fundamental particles and interactions simply don't exist as we know them. However, all the structures and interactions that do exist must be mathematically consistent with each other. In short, these are other universes. I have posited the existence of numerous persistent universes that don't normally interact. And of course only the long lived, stable, so-called 'flat' universes like ours are of practical interest.
"The Multiverse Theory is in fact the basis of the Nexus Portal approach. Computer technology helps us numerically do the math that would have been impossible just ten years ago, to determine the possible stable universes and predict the physical particles and laws that work in those universes. Then, if our universes match close enough to begin with, we can synthesize just enough of the environment of another universe to actually cause our little platform in the Lab to also for a short time exist in that parallel universe, thereby actually forming a gateway into that universe, which we call a Nexus Portal."
To Thortan, this probably sounded somewhat familiar, as it had probably been explained a dozen times to him, though he still didn't understand it of course, nor was he trying to now. He paid other people to understand such things. People who for some inexplicable reason actually enjoyed science, perhaps because they didn't have what it takes to make it in business. In short, freaks like Mark Witherspoon and myself.
"But we were trying to interface with a universe of Type 11, the one you recommended!" exclaimed Witherspoon. "You gave me the parameters yourself six months ago! How did we interact with Type 3 instead?"
"It was the fundamental scale factors," I replied. "I tried to warn you in my letters. With my theory and modeling I could determine the value of physical
constants for each universe relative to each other, but had no way to reliably determine the over-all scale of each universe relative to our own. Frankly, I just don't understand enough about that part yet. So I essentially guessed what the scale factors might be. And it appears in the case of universe Type 3, so I was off by a couple of orders of magnitude. Without knowing the scale factors for each universe, we can't reliably predict which universe if any that the Nexus Portal will open to. As it happens, you in essence dialed a wrong number, and got the Type 3 universe by mistake instead of the Type 11 universe.
"The bottom line, as you would put it, Thortan, is that the Type 3 universe, compared to ours, seems to have everything shifted smaller, though the physical laws are actually virtually identical to ours. That's good news, actually. Also, the matter of our two universes doesn't instantly annihilate each other, and that also certainly has to be counted as very good news indeed. The bad news is, Type 3 matter seems to be just a tad more stable than ours. That was also a major risk."
I turned to stare at the view screen. "The lab equipment isn't disappearing. It's getting smaller. The matter of our universe is being consumed and converted to Type 3 matter. In short, what you are looking at is the gradual formation of a new Type 3 universe, converted from the matter of our own Type 1 Universe."
"Can't we stop it?" asked Thortan, after a moment of stunned silence. "Hose it down, or concrete it over or something?"
"That would just be fueling the transformation."
"What about an H-bomb?" asked Witherspoon.
"That would probably merely accelerate the conversion process," I replied. "But let’s have your team model it though, to make sure."
"Can we send it all back through the Portal, or fly it into outer space?" Witherspoon wondered.
"Nope. There’s no way to get it all. It's already spread out of the Lab."
Thortan sprang white faced from his chair and inspected his hands, apparently to verify that they hadn't disappeared. I laughed at the sight. "Don't panic, Thortan. Contamination will spread horizontally only very slowly. We have at least several days of safety here, I think."
"Then where has the contamination occurred?" asked Witherspoon.
I pointed down. "Tens of meters down into bedrock already, I estimate. When sections of Earth objects shrink, it causes tremendous stresses that break the objects into pieces. By this process the lab floor was easily breached. The type three molecules are very tiny and heavy. Trillions of stray Type 3 molecules, including converted air molecules, are sinking through the lab's foundation and into the underlying bedrock. The results will eventually be very bad, I'm afraid."
"The whole Earth is going to shrink?" asked Thortan, terrified.
I smiled at him and nodded, pleased that the billionaire at last had shown a glimmer of understanding.
"How long will that take?"
"I don't know. Years possibly. I'd like to model it and find out. In fact, I should get started." I walked towards the door.
Thortan was quick to recover. "Witherspoon, I want YOU to get on top of this. I want you and your team to aid Cranson, but confirm his work, every bit of it. I don't believe all this crap about the end of the World. You have a couple of hundred scientists and engineers; see what the hell YOU can come up with! I want this thing taken care of before it leaks to the press and the Government! I'll get my lawyers to work too," Thortan concluded, as I walked out the door. "I smell law suits here. That's for damn sure!"
Events progressed rapidly after that. The press did get the story, of course. The Government got involved, and Thortan was right about lawsuits. But despite the mounting bedlam, myself, Witherspoon, and our team, aided by other prominent scientists in numerous organizations and countries, did accomplish much. What we did for the most part was confirm my initial findings. The Type 3 matter was indeed gradually converting Type 1 matter to its own structure. That it was doing so without release of tremendous Type 1 energy as a byproduct was one consequence of the completeness of the conversion process. Nearly undetectable Type 3 energy was being produced by the reaction and radiated away.
Fortunately, the radiation of Type 3 particles was not in sufficient concentration to rapidly convert the surrounding Type 1 material in a 'chain reaction', and was not energetic enough to escape the Lab, which was now being rapidly reinforced by the addition of several layers of concrete and steel. Only the Type 1 matter in direct physical contact with densely concentrated Type 3 matter was being converted. However, there was concern that the cumulative concentration of radiated Type 3 particles collected in the surrounding Type 1 material would eventually support more rapid conversion, perhaps escalating into a chain reaction that would totally convert the Earth in hours.
The concept that lower concentrations of Type 3 material might cause a stop to the transformation process caused a Hydrogen bomb approach to be reconsidered several times. It was reasoned that if the explosion dispersed Type 3 material completely enough, all transformation would stop.
Unfortunately, all modeling confirmed my original prediction that the explosion itself would act as a catalyst, resulting in virtually instantaneous transformation and a fantastic quantity of Type 3 material that would also be scattered throughout the world. Even without the help of an H-bomb, all predictions estimated that complete conversion of the Earth would take only twenty to sixty years. But fantastic destruction would begin to occur long before that, probably well within a year.
Meanwhile Biologists and science fiction buffs were busily speculating what 'death by conversion' would be like. The answer was fairly obvious; death by conversion would be a terribly gruesome end for the victims. Over a period of hours the body would essentially disintegrate piece by piece.
There seemed to be no hope. Thortan even understood the gravity of the situation, especially after I persuaded Witherspoon to arrange a rather graphic presentation by the biologists that involved computer simulation of a human undergoing conversion. "To get Thortan's full support in our efforts he has to understand how serious this situation is," I had argued. As a result, Thortan became preoccupied with the concept of his own death, which I felt was amusing. Thortan was finally encountering a situation over which he had no control.
I was gaining control. After three intensive weeks, I called another urgent meeting with Thortan and Witherspoon. "There is bad news and good news!" I announced. This time however, I was smiling, and I could see that Thortan and Witherspoon were immediately encouraged. "The bad news is: I still don't see how to stop the conversion process. The good news is: I think I can speed it up in a controlled manner!"
Thortan was stunned. "Speed it up? What the hell kind of 'good news' is that?"
"I believe that we can build a device similar to the Nexus Portal that in combination with Type 3 radiation will almost instantaneously transform Type 1 matter to Type 3 matter!"
"I repeat, what the hell good is that?"
"Simply this, Thortan: it should be possible to convert objects without damaging them."
"What kind of objects?"
"Well, anything. People, for example. And some sort of shelters to house them during the conversion of the Earth, along with food, plants, animals, tools, libraries and so forth. A sort of Noah's Ark. Once converted to Type 3 material, the Ark and everything else converted would be virtually indestructible and safe from the surrounding conversion process. It would be expensive, of course, and only a few people could be saved; just enough to start over again. Oh, and by the way, I predict that one of the subtle differences in the new universe will be much longer life. Thousands of years, maybe even longer."
After days of worry, Thortan was elated. "We'll call it Thortan's Ark! We'll charge millions for each occupant."
"There is one condition for my help, however," I said, taking Thortan by surprise. "In return for showing you how to build the ark, I want full ownership and control of Nexus technology and all things related to my theories."
Thortan could bare
ly keep from laughing as he agreed to those terms. I knew what he was thinking. He would be on the ark and I would be left behind.
Backed by Thortan's vast corporate empire, construction on the Ark began immediately, while impotent governments commissioned studies and bickered, and talk shows flooded airways with conflicting points of view. In six months the Ark structure was complete and supplies were being converted. Though only a hundred meters in diameter in our universe, the Ark would initially seem as if it was over ten kilometers wide to its shrunken occupants. The Ark itself would of course then be shrunk itself, to about a meter in size, after it was loaded up. However, it would still be roomy enough for a few dozen shrunken people to live in it -for many years.
The whole team worked day and night on the Ark project. Extreme care had to be exercised to avoid widespread contamination. Type 3 samples were needed from the Nexus Lab for the conversion apparatus at the Ark site, since the 'instant' conversion involved massive bombardment of the object to be converted by Type 3 particles, with containment by a Nexus-like field and the Ark itself.
The newly converted Type 3 objects then had to be confined in the Ark. Fortunately, this problem, as well as the problem of retrieving material safely from the Nexus Laboratory, was solved in a simple way by creating openings on the top of both the Nexus Lab and the Ark. Type 3 matter was so heavy that it tended to confine itself to the bottom of the two rooms, and transfers could safely be made through the ceiling openings. Packed in sealed containers, the Type 3 material could be safely transported to the Ark site, as long as the transfers were completed before the containers failed. Conversion was done in the Ark itself, using apparatus lowered in from the ceiling.
Meanwhile, I wasn't surprised to hear that Thortan was working with a few of his most trusted corporate people to come up with the Ark passenger list. It included some of his most trusted minions; people that were used to following his orders without question. And of course it included several beautiful women that would help Thortan re-populate the newly converted Earth. He would indeed remake the populace in his image. As I expected, my name wasn't on the list.
Finally, after successfully transforming several animals and lowering them safely onto the floor of the Ark, it was time to start converting people. I wasn't surprised when I was informed that the first person to be converted was Thortan himself, since we had assured the billionaire of the safety of the procedure.
Thortan was elated. This would be another triumph for him. His P-R people assured him that his name would be remembered along with those of Armstrong, Columbus, Moses, etc.! Besides, frustration on Government and public opinion fronts was increasing, and risk of the arrest of Thortan and our science team was increasing, not to mention the growing protests and riots.
Thortan signed over control to me of his company Multiverse technologies, as we had agreed. Then we transformed him without a hitch, and he was lowered to the Ark floor using essentially a long rope. Soon a centimeter tall, silvery Thortan roamed the Ark among miniature mounds of supplies, discarded conversion apparatus, mice, several rabbits, chickens, goats, and a chimpanzee. Telescopic cameras on the roof of the Ark confirmed that all the tiny inhabitants seemed to be well, and were successfully eating converted food and breathing converted air, though they were apparently doing everything at about ten times 'normal' speed. When our recorded video was slowed down, the miniature Thortan was seen waving and giving a 'thumbs up' signal!
That everything 'worked the same' after conversion was considered to be a major miracle by everyone except me. The next day, assuming that Thortan continued to thrive, conversion of the other humans slated to join Thortan in the Ark was to occur. Then the Ark itself would be immediately converted, before it lost its structural integrity.
However, that night, while Witherspoon was helping me go over data on the original contamination site that had been virtually ignored due to the Ark effort, I suddenly cursed and threw a pile of computer printouts onto the floor.
"What is it Jeff?" asked the startled Witherspoon.
"This data from the Nexus Lab that we haven't had a chance to look at just doesn't add up! There's something going on here that I don't understand! Here, look at this aerial photo."
From the air, the Nexus Lab area looked unchanged, except for the new layers of concrete covering the structure.
"It looks OK," said Witherspoon. "It's holding up very well, as a matter of fact."
"But that's just it!" I exclaimed. "Shouldn't the whole area be subsiding by now? Why then is the Lab still intact?"
The team worked all night on the issue. We finally determined what happened after I pointed out that Type 3 matter to Type 3 matter gravity was very much stronger than Type 1 to Type 3 gravity. Given the increasing concentration of Type 3 material in the Lab, loose Type 3 material was no longer sinking into the ground. In fact, corrected computer simulations now predicted that all Type 3 matter would soon concentrate itself within meters of the original Nexus Lab floor level. Type 3 material that had earlier sunk deep into bedrock was actually being pulled back up! I predicted that gradually it would form a spherical shape and slowly sink as a contiguous unit through the Earth's crust. Only the Earth material directly in contact with the sphere would continue to be converted, and the sphere would grow in size only very gradually. Since conversion would only occur on the sphere's surface, the process would take many thousands of years. The Earth had been granted a reprieve.
Some hard decisions had to be made immediately with regard to the Ark project. Nobody else would be transformed, of course, but the Ark had to be transformed immediately anyway, before it disintegrated. It would protect and feed Thortan, perhaps for his entire lifetime, but poor Thortan was doomed to solitude, at least for the foreseeable future.
We wrote a letter to Thortan to explain the situation, and placed it with the final food shipment. I surprised the group by adding to that final package my own private message for the doomed man. The World watched Thortan briefly via telephoto lens as the tiny man read the notes. He jumped up and down and gestured wildly after reading the messages. Unfortunately, magnification was insufficient to read his lips, so nobody knew what the great man's last words where before the Ark was converted by an explosive flash within it that bombarded it with Type 3 matter. Then, via very massive machinery, the shrunken Ark was carefully transported to the Nexus Lab and lowered onto the huge mass of Type 3 material that was building up within it.
The science team began to consider if transformation of Type 3 back to normal Type 1 material was possible. Perhaps Thortan could be saved.
A week later, an amazing event was recorded at the Nexus Lab. There was a sudden boom and rush of air into the Lab that nearly tore the remnants of the chamber apart! It was soon discovered that the entire mass of Type 3 matter, hundreds of tons of it that included Thortan and his Ark, had completely disappeared! By some inexplicable miracle, the Earth was saved. But Thortan was gone.
Within days, I again provided the answer. When enough Type 3 material had been created and concentrated in one area, a local Type 3 environment was established, without need of a Nexus Portal. The whole mass then essentially transported itself back into the Type 3 universe spontaneously. The people of Earth breathed a great sigh of relief. Fortunately, through it all, only one person had been lost: Thortan. I was hailed as Earth’s savor, and of course, poor Jason T. Thortan III was also hailed as a hero: the first human to travel to another universe.
I could finally return fully to my first love: multiverse research. I began by publishing my paper deriving the fundamental scale factors for universes, and my paper on the spontaneous reversion mechanism that helps keep universes separate from one another and stable. On the hand-written draft copies of these papers I wrote the current date and put them into my 'out basket' for typing. They would earn me another Nobel Prize.
You may be interested in reading this copy of the private note that I gave to Thortan:
“My dear
Thortan: Thought you'd like to know that contact with the Type 3 universe was no accident. I manipulated Nexus through Witherspoon. I planned it all to get rid of you, you rotten bastard. You played your part perfectly. You should arrive in universe 3 in about one Earth week. (That's about ten weeks for you!) Have a good trip! Got to go now, BOY, time is money! (MY money now!) Your ex-employee (FINALLY!), Jeff.”
The scientific community of course assumed that Thortan's sacrifice helped with my research. Nobody suspected that I had actually perfected my theories more than two years earlier. All along, I had known that the Earth was in no real danger from Type 3 matter.
I was hailed as a genius and become rich practically overnight, but that was secondary. The most important thing was that Thortan was gone, and I was fully in charge of my own work again. My employment problem was solved.
Thortan had thought that I had no interests other than science. Thortan was wrong, dead wrong. I had spent much time thinking about my Thortan Problem. Perhaps too much. Afterwards, I was never again so motivated, and never again rose to such heights of creativity. My solution to my employment problems with Thortan, which knowingly risked our universe itself, was by far the most creative and exciting thing that I ever did, and possibly the most ruthless. In the years that followed I made obscene amounts of money, largely through the creation of new designer matter and interactions what were consistent with our universe. My new creations were everything Thortan ever dreamed of and more. A new periodic table that characterized my creations was established. I had changed our universe. In essence I became almost a god. I grew to like being rich and powerful, gained many enemies, became ruthless myself, lost my few friends, and went from being one of the most revered people in history to being one of the most feared and hated.
I still think of Thortan and my undying hate of him almost constantly. Sometimes when I decide to fire someone or utterly ruin them, I think about how Thortan would do it, and then I contrive to outdo the ruthlessness of that approach. Why? I have several theories about that having to do with guilt and transference and so forth, but I don’t really know for sure. I have come to realize that somehow when I murdered Thortan I also destroyed myself. I had banished Thorton to another universe, but I was never truly rid of him. In a lot of ways, I became him. Lately, when I look in a mirror, I think that I even look like Thortan.
Knowing now the truth you can call me a hero or the devil, at this point I don't care, since if you are reading this, I am at peace at last; perhaps gone to join Thortan in some world beyond reach of my science. Was I a great man? Yes, but I was only human after all.
****
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