Part 5 (1/2)

a67,a I repeated.

Now his eyes were fascinated. aI take it the universes are very similar.a aThese two, yes, though not identical. I count it as luck. They could have been widely disparate.a aWhat persuaded you to a do this a” come back to 1947?a aThe process is called Reversion. I could say that I reverted as an experiment to verify my theories a” which I did. But it was also because I inherited your vascular system. I was facing a desperate medical gamble.a I allowed a wry grin. aI preferred to gamble on my own skill instead of othersa.a His tone betrayed his interest. aSo what did you make of your life, Timmy?a aI took a doctorate in physics from Chicago in 1967 and won the n.o.bel Prize in 1988.a He jerked upright and almost fell off his chair. His eyes glowed. aWhat was your discovery?a I grinned. aThe t.i.tle of the descriptive article was Cognitive Differentiation in Relative s.p.a.ce-time Continua.a He thought about it. aWhat was the gist?a aIt was almost Cartesian: aI think and you think, therefore we inhabit separate universes.a It turns out that far from a merely mechanical functionality, a consciousness capable of full self-awareness is a fundamental component of all s.p.a.ce-time. I was able, from certain unexplained anomalies in Quantum Mechanics, to deduce the Thorn Equation, which integrates the energy complexity we call consciousness into the mix of other fundamental variables such as s.p.a.ce, time and ident.i.ty. That equation contains some mind-boggling implications. The ability to revert is only one. Another, perhaps the most significant, is that the purpose of all universes is to serve as breeding grounds for consciousness, which may in turn imply that manas destiny is G.o.dhood. My discovery soon became more a question for your specialty than mine.a aI see,a he agreed dryly, arather as the nuclear bomb is fast becoming an issue more ethical than technical.a I shook my head. aI donat think Robert Oppenheimer would object to Reversion.a aHow do you know about him? He only recently moved to Princeton. His horror at what we did to the j.a.panese is not well known.a aIt was well known in 2002. In a few years heall register himself in opposition to our next, more fearful bomb based on nuclear fusion.a aFusion! You mean a”a I held up my hand. aOne disclosure at the time, please, Dad. The reason that compelled me to divulge my secret grows increasingly pressing.a aYour secret!a He shook his head. aYou claim to be a 67 year-old version of Timmy from another universe who now occupies my Timmyas mind, is that right? I can think of a simpler explanation.a aCan you?a aYes. Your mother suggests you may have damaged yourself in that bike accident you suffered a few weeks ago. Thatas when all this a strangeness began.a aSheas right about the date. Thatas the moment I reverted. I was riding the bike and lost control because of the momentary disorientation.a aThen you admit to brain damage?a aDamage?a I shook my head. aI know the future, Dad. Be patient and check out what I tell you.a aI want you to talk to Dr. Sloan,a he said with determination.

aNo!a I retorted with equal determination. aNo one else can know of this. Can you imagine what trouble Iad be in, if this became public?a aSloan is a psychiatrist, Tim. He would be able to understand this better than I. You can trust him. Weave been friends since kindergarten.a aIam sorry,a I said firmly. aNo one else can know. It would be just too dangerous. Iall write down some things I remember from this time, inconsequential events like little Cindy Emmons finding a fifty cent piece on the curb in front of her house, like Jimmy Fowler breaking his ankle. Those things happened, will happen on our street perhaps very soon.a aMake your list, son. I canat say I believe you, because that would take a leap of faith, and you know Iam not a religious man. So youare either telling the truth, which is improbable, or you have a serious problem.a I thought of another approach. aYour specialty is philosophy, metaphysics, the history of thought. Which school do you prefer, Dad: a.n.a.lytical, empirical or logical positivism?a His eyebrows rose. aItas a common mistake to compare positivism to a.n.a.lytical philosophy. They donat treat the same a”a He stopped suddenly. aMy G.o.d!a I smiled at him. aDo you find a tremendous increase in erudition consistent with brain damage?a He stared at me, taking a deep breath. aNo, I donat,a he admitted.

aOr the judgment based on experience that your question about tree bark revealed?a aThatas right,a he breathed. aA 67 year-old would have no trouble with that question.a aNor did he.a He studied me thoughtfully, musing, aAn old man in a young manas body.a Suddenly he chuckled.

aWhat?a I asked.

aItas just that I recall a saying about youth being wasted on the young.a aG. B. Shaw said that,a I replied. aItas an old manas fantasy, of being young once again with the experience of a lifetime.a aItas a fantasy all right, except perhaps for you. I donat consider myself to be an old man, though I can see the attraction Reversion might hold when I get there. That was another consideration, besides your medical problem and proving your theory, wasnat it!a I thought about it. aPerhaps so, but not consciously. To be completely honest, Dad, I didnat expect it to work.a aYou what?a Indeed for the first time I had just been completely honest a” with myself as well. I had thought I was committing suicide! But I doubted that Dad would sympathize. To change the subject, I leered and said suggestively, aYou havenat mentioned the strongest motive.a He chuckled slightly. aDonat tell me it was twelve year-old girls.a aYouare talking about s.e.x, of course.a aWhat else?a he grinned rather sheepishly. aTwelve year-old girls can be powerfully attractive, although one doesnat admit that in public.a aInteresting that you should put it in those terms. I find that age has very little to do with it, supposing that one is old enough.a His eyebrows rose. aYou have been investigating that point, then?a aOh, yes.a aWith what result?a aIn regard to age?a I winked at him. How old was Graden? aTwelve to 66.a a66?a He was appalled.

aHave you read Benjamin Franklinas remarks about age?a aSomething about grat.i.tude?a He shook his head with a wry grin. aSon, I hate to see such cynicism in one so young.a aDad, have you noticed that weave been conversing as adults?a aYes,a he answered dryly, afor some weeks.a He shook his head. aBut tonight tops everything. The a.n.a.lytical versus positivism, indeed!a I shrugged. aI only learned enough about philosophy to be comfortable with the epistemological reliability of the Scientific Method.a He goggled at me. aI confess it amazes me you even know that word!a I sighed. aThis is neither here nor there. Iam still faced with a major problem.a aThis Alice?a aYes. Alice Farnsworth, a brilliant woman. She took her PhD a few years after mine with an elaboration upon my thesis. She worked beside me for many years as a co-investigator and designer of the reversion machinery. She has reverted also. The letter was from her. I spoke to her on the telephone today. I donat understand why I never expected her to follow me. I never gave it a thought, and that is the most bizarre aspect of this.a aPerhaps to you!a aWell, yes.a I grinned, understanding his sarcasm. aBut tonight in Chicago the mind of a talented woman resides in a childas body, a ten year-old body with even less authority than the pitiful amount I possess. She told me today that her mother is deranged, that she fears for her own safety. I have to rescue her, Dad. Iam asking for your help.a aDoes she love you, Timmy?a I blinked. aI suppose she must. She killed herself for me.a aKilled herself?a He looked at me aghast. aTimmy, if thatas a joke it a”a aI killed myself, Dad. That is the effect of Reversion upon the old body. It cannot live without its mind.a His eyes held an indignant glint. aSuddenly this is becoming macabre and ugly.a aNevertheless we have reverted. Alice needs my help, our help. We have to go to Chicago.a aI need a drink,a he said wearily with a wave of his hand and got up from his chair.

aIad like one too,a I said. aDo you have any Stolichnaya?a aWhatas that?a aRussian vodka.a The confused, sweet man stared at me intently and then shook his head in resignation. aI canat afford a bar, Tim. All I have is a half bottle of Old Crow. Iall bring it upstairs. We have a lot more talking to do.a * * *

aBut why?a I heard my motheras voice as I came down the stairs.

They were in the kitchen, from which wafted the odor of coffee and toast.

aYou know why, Pat,a Dad said. aTim has convinced me that we truly must help him with this problem.a I paused just outside the door.

aHis problem with this Alice, this married woman?a Mamma managed to sound both concerned and scornful. Women are talented in projecting emotions a” and detecting them!

aSheas definitely not married. Thatas clear.a aOh? Have you talked to her?a aNo, dear one. But I shall, I promise you. Before Tim or myself actually gets involved Iall do a thorough investigation, believe me.a aSo where are you going?a aTim has the address in Chicago. Weall stay at Alanas cabin on Coldwater Lake for the overnight.a I came into the kitchen.

aWell, good morning, boy,a my dad said with a smile, looking me over critically. I winked at him. His unadulterated Old Crow had not been my cup of tea, perhaps fortunately in view of my relatively small ma.s.s.

Mom looked at me apprehensively, but I went to her as usual and gave her a peck on the cheek. She enclosed me in her arms and squeezed me with an inarticulate cry. Her eyes glistened. aYou must be hungry,a she said eventually. aWhat would you like before your trip?a aPancakes,a I responded in my soprano voice and sat down at the table next to my father, who returned my wink.

Like all men of that time, we waited to be served by the woman of the house.

aJimmy Fowler fell off his bike a little while ago, just in front of our porch,a Mom announced as she fussed at the stove. aHe broke his ankle.a Dadas eyes grew huge and he stared at me in wonder.

The address led us to an apartment building at the intersection of Lemolion and Woodlawn Avenue just north of the University of Chicago campus. I knew that neighborhood so well.

aWe canat park on this side of the street,a my father grumbled and made a U-turn.

Black Muslims used to dominate this area and keep it safe in their fascist manner, but the few faces I saw on the street were white. I suddenly recognized my logic error. I was in the past and remembering the future.

My dad was worn out from the trip and a bit on edge. He had refused to let me drive, despite agreeing that I likely had more experience than he, because it was daylight and we had thoughtlessly forgotten the cus.h.i.+ons that might elevate me enough to see over the steering wheel.

aIs this the place?a he asked in exasperation as he finally pulled to the curb.

aYes, I believe so,a I replied in a distracted voice, wondering whether this was the building I had visited in the future for a seminar with a weird, brilliant professor who paced before his students in his pajamas.

We got out of the car, walked around the structure to the door marked with a battered bra.s.s nine and trudged up the half flight of cement stairs. I pushed the buzzer and waited impatiently. Eventually the door opened to reveal a young girl, tall for her age. Alice, as an adult, was an inch taller than I.

Her eyes lit when she saw me but the light faded when they rose to my father. aYes?a she inquired.

aAre you Alice?a I asked. aIam Tim.a Her mouth fell open most satisfactorily. aAre you really Tim, Timothy Kimball?a I bowed slightly, ironically. aThe old man himself.a aOh, you got here in time!a she breathed. She stood in the doorway staring at me, presenting an oval face that was almost pretty. Her light brown hair hung loosely, in need of a brush. She was not skinny; her limbs were well filled out and shapely, although her blouse betrayed nothing. She was just a few inches shorter than I. Either she or the apartment had a sour aroma.

aProfessor Kimball,a she said finally, ayou are a very pretty boy.a aNo prettier than you, Mrs. Farnsworth,a I replied with a grin.

aMy name is Colsen,a she insisted. aIam not married.a aGood G.o.d, Timmy, what is this?a my father protested. aSheas not ten years old and she talks like that!a aIam ten,a Alice declared, asince last week.a aI told you, Dad,a I warned. aExcuse me. My father, Dr. Frank Kimball, this is Miss Alice Colsen, the future Dr. Alice Farnsworth, also a world renowned physicist.a aHow do you do, Dr. Kimball,a Alice intoned, extending her hand palm-down.

aI, ah, very well, thank you, ah, Dr. Farna” I mean Miss Colsen.a Father had taken her hand but shook his head with a slight chuckle, commenting, aThis affair has its problems.a A blowzy woman appeared suddenly behind Alice. She demanded peremptorily, aWho are you people?a But the haughty effect of her high chin was ruined when she hiccupped loudly. The distinctive odor of whisky wafted from her hiccup, although it was just four-thirty in the afternoon.

Dad took a cautious breath. aMaaam, we are a”a aI know who you are now,a she declared positively, as if recognition had just arrived. One hand went uncertainly to the doorframe for balance.

Dad began, aDid Alice tell you a”a aThis one has told me a tissue of lies,a she interrupted, nodding at Alice. aYouare Martians just like her, arenat you! a” from the same UFO?a My father drew himself up. aIam sorry maaam. Iad like to introduce us, if you donat mind.a aNo need for that. I know all about you. You have green slime instead of blood just like this creature here who was my daughter before you took her over.a aMadam, please!a Dad countered. aYou are speaking unreasonably. Could a”a aUnreasonably! You find yourself a daughter with an old woman in her head and then tell me Iam unreasonable.a Dadas eyes widened.

She reacted with a feral grin. aYou know Iam right, donat you?a He looked around but so far no one else had appeared to take interest in our little tableau. aMadam, could we perhaps come inside and talk this over?a aIn my house?a Her eyes popped hysterically. She spat on Dadas shoe and shrieked, aGet out of here, all of you!a She pushed Alice onto the stoop, b.u.mping into me, and slammed the door behind her.

aNot one of her best days,a Alice said with disgust. aBut it couldnat have worked out better. Can we go now?a aGo?a my father demanded, eyebrows rising.

aYes, Dad,a I answered. aWeare taking her with us. Obviously she canat stay here.a aBut Tim, how can I dare to do this? It amounts to kidnapping!a aAn interesting point,a observed Alice, looking up at Dad with a twinkle. aIs it kidnapping if the kid fervently wants to be napped?a His stiff back relaxed marginally. aI donat think the kid is usually consulted.a I took his arm lightly. aDad, letas get into the car and drive away from here. Weall work something out.a Despite my soprano voice and pretty, twelve year old body, he knew I was old enough to be his father and was more accomplished than he. He took a deep breath and shook his head. aIall probably be in jail tomorrow, but, all right, letas go.a I felt sorry for the man as we walked towards his pre-war Studebaker. He appeared to feel utterly defeated and weary.

aWe need you, Dad,a I said truthfully. aYouare very important to us.a aYou are aliens,a he said somberly as he opened the car door, ajust as that woman insisted.a aYou know thatas not so, Dad,a I responded weakly.

Alice and I got into the back seat of the car and my father pulled away from the curb.

aHow did you find the right universe?a I demanded immediately.

aI didnat,a she replied shortly. aThat woman is not my mother.a Iam sure my shock showed. aYouare not serious! Have you looked in a mirror?a She nodded impatiently. aOh, Iam myself, if thatas what you mean, in the same body I recall at age ten. And that woman has my motheras face and figure, but thatas where the resemblance ends. As a child I never lived in Chicago at all.a aThat different!a I commented, thinking again of my good fortune to note only paperclips and bathtub drains a” so far.

aAnd I know what caused it.a Her voice developed a bitter edge. aMy father a” I started to say my real father a” was only wounded in the war. He returned, fathered my baby brother and gave me a happy girlhood. In this universe he died of his wounds on Okinawa. My mother loved him so terribly that it affected her mind. She became a drunk. When she read about the UFOs, she decided that aliens had killed him.a Alice barked a laugh. aThey probably did. He died of complications after battlefield surgery: an infection by tiny little aliens. I made the mistake of agreeing with her on that.a I studied the frowning face, thinking it likely that she had failed, as I had, to maintain conversations at a childas level of understanding. I shook my head. aWhat a terrible difference to fall into!a She smiled slightly. aWell, at least you and Dr. Kimball are saving this Alice from the horrible fate she would likely endure without you.a She leaned forward and touched Dadas shoulder. aYou have my heartfelt thanks, dear sir. In my 77 years I donat think anyone has ever done me such a great favor.a Dad turned his head enough for her to see his smile. He seemed to sit straighter.

I asked, aWhat do you mean, 77?a a67 and ten is 77.a aBut you are a” were a” 65!a aItas been almost two years since you a left. I needed to know more about this adventure you invented.a aWhy did you come at all, Alice? Did your health give out?a aYou know why I came, Tim,a she retorted dryly. aThe reason for the delay was an early discovery that while millions of the possible universes contain copies of Timmy and Alice, theyare only a small subset. By far the most are too different. The different ones contain no matrix for your scanner to fix on.a She laughed grimly. aDonat tell the SPCA, if this universe has one, but I killed a lot a rabbits. Most of them reverted a” that is, died a” on the first try. I had a spotted one that took three. But my grieving brain finally tumbled to the facts. I neednat have worried. I might find a copy of you with a few moles or scars different, but you never showed me your moles and scars, so it couldnat matter. When you hit the switch, millions a” only Gaea knows how many a” of other Timmies did, too, also when I hit it. And Iam confident each Alice found her Timmy.a aI detect a flaw in that logic. How could you be sure that all the found Timmies would contain reversions?a She grinned. aI couldnat. But it was worth the risk, even if my Timmy was but a child.a She actually chuckled, leering at me. aIn some respects it might have even been better.a I said to the young girl sitting next to me, aI donat want to pursue that, but Iall tell you this: youare not what I remember.a aIam the same person, Tim, as you well know, the one who dropped the beaker of mercury on your toe in 1991. But arenat our bodies so delightfully different?a Alice snuggled close to me and offered her face for a kiss. It was an adult kiss, the kind that an old, loving couple would exchange while they remembered their youth.

aI never touched you, Alice, for all those years.a I sighed into her ear. aI loved you when you were a dumpy, old woman, and you loved me, but we never kissed.a aI would have pushed you away, had you tried, and I would have been disappointed in you. We both had lovely marriages.a aBut weare dead now, in an odd form of Purgatory, and we can realize our fantasies.a aWeare hardly dead, Timothy. And you now have a chance to relive in a different way your experience with that girl who has always nagged at your mind.a aYou mean Sara. Iave already seen her, but Ritchie excites me more.a aRitchie?a aYes, my buddy since kindergarten. I never appreciated how beautiful he was until I saw him with the eyes of an old man.a aTimmy, you had better restrain yourself. You could get into trouble.a aHow? For having s.e.x with a twelve year old, when Iam twelve myself?a aWhat I mean, Professor Kimball, is that you could get into trouble with me. I died for you, you know.a She glared at me ominously. I averted my eyes in momentary shame before realizing with an internal chuckle that she was laying on me a guilt trip totally undeserved in one sense but richly merited in another a” both at the same time! Iave noticed that all females can do this. Apparently itas an instinctive mechanism.

aYouare behaving like a little boy,a she admonished me further. aYouare thinking only about s.e.x, when we have a world to conquer.a aMost world conquerors have had a hearty s.e.xual appet.i.te,a I suggested with a mischievous kiss to her soft cheek. The sour odor I noticed earlier did not emanate from her body, I was pleased to note.

aIam your woman, Tim. Iall bear your children. I know youall fool around in your youth, and maybe I will too. But never forget that you belong to me.a * * *

Dad finally stopped during the twilight and bought Alice a pair of pajamas and a toothbrush and me a pair of pillows to sit on. He watched critically from the back seat as I began by practically hanging my chin on the steering wheel to reach the floor-mounted starter. He visibly tensed when I edged out into the traffic, but I worked gears.h.i.+ft and clutch smoothly. I slowed down going into the first curve and speeded up while inside it.

aYouave driven a car,a he admitted, relaxing a bit.

aSeveral multiples of the earthas circ.u.mference,a I retorted.

He heaved a sigh. aI suppose so. Watch your speed. We canat afford to get stopped, you know.a I laughed. aYouare right. I left my driveras license at home. It was issued in the year 2000 anyway. Why donat you go to sleep?a Alice leaned against me despite the floor-mounted gears.h.i.+ft. aI remember cars like this. But I learned to drive in my fatheras Oldsmobile in 1952. It had an automatic transmission.a aThat early? Yes, I guess it might have.a After a while she said, aYour father is asleep.a aGood. Heas tired. Trips like these are hard on him.a aAh. You inherited his vascular problems, did you?a aYes.a aIs he stubborn as you about following the doctoras orders?a aI hope not. They could relieve high blood pressure even in 1947.a Suddenly she changed the subject. aTim, have you had s.e.x since your Reversion?a I glanced at her. She was serenely watching the oncoming headlights.

When I hesitated, she asked, aAre you deciding to tell me a lie?a aHave I ever done that?a aYes, you have!a Her voice was hot. aThat $3000 hotel bill for aSpecial Servicesa in Rome. You said it paid for ma.s.sages, for back pain caused by the terrible chairs in the conference room.a aHmm. My G.o.d, that was twelve years ago! What makes you think it wasnat ma.s.sages?a aTonio went with you, remember? Fifteen girls, Timmy! Good G.o.d, what an appet.i.te!a I grumbled, aWell, they werenat all present at the same time. Tonio! He always talked too much.a Suddenly a light dawned. aTonio! How did he tell you about it a” with his head on the same pillow in Oslo?a She giggled but sobered instantly. aHe was only the lab a.s.sistant.a aThen! As I recall he became the lab facilities manager shortly after Oslo.a aWell,a she purred, ahe had such a glib tongue, so long and flexible, so useful in several nice ways.a I had to laugh. aAlice, you amaze me!a aBecause Iam a pa.s.sionate woman? Was a pa.s.sionate woman? Now, sweetie, Iam a pa.s.sionate girl, as I hope you will soon find out.a She laughed. aThatas funny, you know. The first time around I never had a sensual feeling until I got curious, at 14 like so many other girls, and let a boy feel me up. I think Iave proven that itas all in the head.a She laughed again. aThatas what set my mother off. She caught me diddling myself on the back stoop.a aIs that all youave done?a aHuh! I asked you first, if you recall. But, yes, Iam still a virgin in all orifices. What about you?a aAlice, I didnat tell you a lie about Rome!a aBut you would have if Iad had the temerity to ask.a aI would not! All right, yes, Iave had s.e.x, several times, with several people.a aWhat kind of people?a I took a breath. In for a penny a aGirls, twelve and 16. A woman about 26. And an old man of 66.a She digested that a moment. Her next question was not about the old man, as I expected. aWhat about that lost childhood love of yours a” have you done more than just see her?a aYes, I have, but never again. She was already Ritchieas conquest before I reverted. From her observed behavior, I suspect the tales of her pulling a Mae West with the entire football team may not be so apocryphal.a aA s.l.u.t, is she?a I could feel her gaze, apparently meant to gauge my reaction to the accusation. I sniffed. aIn the making, perhaps.a aI want to be your s.l.u.t,a she announced. Her hand fell upon my fly. Her other hand joined it, fumbling. aWhereas the darn zipper pull?a aIt b.u.t.tons. For your information a s.l.u.t strips herself naked and f.u.c.ks anyone on demand and without hesitation. Are you sure thatas what you have in mind?a aNo, at least not yet. What I want tonight is only to be your s.l.u.t. Oh!a aI remind you, dear Alice: I am yet only a boy.a aBut enough for a 26 year-old woman? How big does it get?a aYouall find out if you keep that up.a aHey! Stay this side of the white line, please.a Suddenly her hands began closing the b.u.t.tons.

aI thought you were looking down.a aThat was by feel! Just tell me how big.a aBig enough, I gather. aOne size fits all,a they say of women. I think itall work even better for you.a aIn me!a She snuggled closer. aHow much further before I can find out?a I had to laugh. aWho was just warning me about s.e.xual obsession?a aThatas not it.a She sat up primly. aI want to establish our proper relations.h.i.+p as soon as possible.a * * *