Part 19 (1/2)

Distantly, through double windows, he heard the hum of London's traffic. Where was he, anyway?

3 6 Gregory Ben fordGuy's Hospital, perhaps? He remembered more clearly now. It had come on him veryuddenly. He had felt fine going home. He had waked after an hour's sleep, feeling vaguely nauseated, and had got out of bed. The clenching paralysis seized him after a few steps. He remembered lying curled on the bedroom floor, unable to call out, hardly daring to breathe. Sarah, of course, was out. He supposed he might have died if it had been the housekeeper's night off, too.When he woke, he felt more lucid. His head pulsed with a slow ache. He rang for the nurse. It was a different one, an Indian girl this time. He knew he was better when he found himself trying to gauge the size of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s under the starched uniform.”How are you feeling now, Mr. Peterson?” sheasked in a sing-song voice, bending over him.

”Better. What time is it?”

”It's half-past five now.””I'd like my watch back. And I'm hungry. I could manage something very light.””I'll see what's allowed,” she said and left the room silently.He struggled into a sitting position. The nurse trotted in again with a radio and a note.”You had a visitor, Mr. Peterson,” she said, smiling.

”She wouldn't stay, but she left this. And you can have some broth. It'll be up presently.”He recognized Sarah's large graceful loops and 'flourishes on the envelope and opened the note.

Ian--What a terrible bore for you. Can't stand hospitals soI won't.visit, but I thought you could use this radio. I'm leaving for Cannes Friday. Hope to see you before then. If not, give me a ring. III probably be home Wednesday evening. Bye bye. Sarah.

He screwed it up and dropped it in the wastepa-per basket. He turned on the radio, a neat little battery one, There seemed to be nothing but music 3 ?.anywhere. He looked automatically at his watch and realized he wasn't wearing it. What time had the nurse said it was? His stomach gurgled loudl Three pips suddenly interrupted the music.”This is the BBC Radio Four,” a woman's voice announced, ”and here is the 6 o'clock news. First, the headlines: Fifty people are dead tonight after violent rioting in the streets of Paris. A United Airlines flight from London to Was.h.i.+ngton crashed early this morning, killing everyone on board. The bloom spreading across the Atlantic Ocean has advanced miles in a day. The World Council has approved an Energy Plan despite a veto by the OPEC countries. Power failures lasting over sLx hours caused factories to shut down in the Midlands today. The Test match at Lord's cricket ground was canceled today as ten members of the Australian team have been hospitalized with food poisoning. Tomorrow's weather: sunny in patches, increased chance of storms.” A pause. ”Rioting French students were joined by workers today in Paris ...”Peterson did not listen. He felt light and unsteady.

The nurse came in with a tray. He signaled her to leave it on the bedside table. Something in the news had disturbed him and he wasn't quite sure what it was. It must be the news of the bloom. And yet he felt no reaction as he ran that past again.”United Airlines flight 347, London to Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C., encountered turbulence on its approach to Dulles airport and crashed in late afternoon. Transmissions from the pilot were garbled. There seem to have been seizures of both pilot and copilot in the moments before the crash. Witnesses said the plane appeared to explode as it struck the trees. There were no survivors. This latest in a series of airline disasters has--”Jesus! His palms were sweating. He pressed the buzzer for the nurse. She did not come at once. He held the b.u.t.ton down and shouted ”Nurse!”She came in hurriedly, leaving the door open.

3 ”What's the matter now? Why, you haven't even touched your broth.”'q)amn the broth. What day is this? Is it Wednesday?””Yes, it is. But are you--””I want a phone. Why isn't there a phone in here?”'2t was taken out so you wouldn't be disturbed.”

”Well, get it back.””I don't know if I'm supposed to do that ...”''What's going on here?” The first nurse bustled in again.”Sister, Mr. Peterson is asking for a ph9ne in here.””Oh no, we don't need that. Don't want you to be disturbed, do we?””I'm being disturbed now,” he shouted. ”Get me a phone!””Now, now, Mr. Peterson, we can't have that ...”

”Listen, you stupid c.u.n.t,” he said clearly and tensely, ”I want a phone in here right now or I'll have you fired!”There was a shocked silence and the two women backed from the room, eyeing him warily. He lay back, shaking. Through the door, which they had left open, he could hear moaning.Presently an orderly brought in a phone and fPolugged it in. Peterson took a sip of water andught the rising nausea. He dialed his secretary'snumber.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE.

SEPTEMBER 25, 1963.

GORDON WAS WALKING DOWN THE HALLWAY, ON HIS.way back to the lab, when he overheard the remark.

Two full professors were talking in low voices.

”---and as Pauli said, it isn't even wrong!” one finished as Gordon approached. They saw him and instantly fell silent. Gordon knew the story. Pauli was a prominent, highly critical physicist in the first half of the century. He had remarked, about a scientific paper, ”This work is so bad it's not even wrong.”

Meaning, it began and ended in midair; it was so badly formulated it could not be tested. Gordon knew instantly they were talking about him. The Life article had done its work. When he reached the end of the hallway there was more murmured talk behind him and then a final bark of laughter.'

Penny brought home a copy of National Enquirer and left it out for him to see when he came in late. On the front page was a headline, NUCLEAR CALL FROM 3 ? o OUTER s.p.a.cE and beneath it, Prominent Scientists Contact Other World. There were two photographs of Saul and Gordon, evidently by the Life photographer.

Gordon threw it in the trash without reading it.

At the beginning of cla.s.ses there was a pa.rty for the physical sciences faculty, to mark the opemng of the new Inst.i.tute for Geophysics building. The staff sterilized the bowl of a fountain on the lawn outside.

Hugh Bradnet and-Harold Urey filled it with a potent mix of vodka and fruit juices. Gordon had thrown his invitation away with the usual university news notices; Penny discovered it and insisted they go. He wanted to get some rest, but her nagging made him pull on his lightest jacket and, for the first time, skip wearing a tie. In California such details were unimportant. Penny sported a floppy tan straw hat--”For dress-up,” she said. Behind it she could 'hide a fraction of her face. This sense of added mystery rekindled in him an interest in her. He realized that he had been going through the motions these last few weeks, saddled with lecture preparations and spending most of his time with the NMR rig.

This knowledge shocked him. The zest of their beginnings was seeping away. The abrasions between them were rubbing off the cosmetic illusions.He spoke to several members of the Physics Department, but struck up no interesting conversations.

Penny found some literary types but he was un-moored, wandering from one knot of academics to another. The English Department people already seemed drunk, quoting modern poets and ancient movies. There were bright, airy people there' he'd never seen, goy princes, blond and unbearably self-a.s.sured, the sort of people who had refrigerators. full of yogurt and champagne. He saw a visitor trom Berkeley in the crowd, tall and well dressed, a n.o.bel winner of some years back. Gordon had met him before.

He wedged himself into the crescent of people $ 7 !.around the man and, when the n.o.bel laureate's eyes s.h.i.+fted to hiffi, he nodded. The eyes pa.s.sed on. No nod, nothing. Gordon stood, plastic cup in hand, gla.s.sy smile on his face. The eyes came by again. No pause, no flicker of recognition. Gordon backed out of the chattering crescent, face reddening. Maybe he didn't recognize me, Gordon thought, walking away.

He got himself another cup of the vodka. On the other hand, maybe he did.”Good booze, eh?” a man said at his elbow. ”Try to say 'spectroscopy' three times, real fast.” Gordon tried the exercise, and failed. The man turned out to be named Book, and indeed, he did look bookish. He was from General Atomic and proved to be far friendlier than the university people. They stood under a sign that proclaimed, IF YOU CAN READ THIS, THANK A TEACHER. None of Book's levity penetrated Gordon's mood. Vodka, however, began to relieve the world of its awful concreteness. He began to see the point in goys drinking so much. Book went off somewhere and Gordon drifted into conversation with a visiting particle physicist, Steingruber.

Both of them shared a deepening appreciation for the vodka. They began to discuss the ageless topic, women. Gordon made several p.r.o.nouncements about Penny. In a curious way he did not quite understand, Gordon inverted their roles, so that Penny had been the s.e.xual student initiated into the adult world by himselL the sophisticate from New York.

Steingruber accepted this as only reasonable. Gordon came to see that Steingruber was indeed a fine fellow, capable of profound insight. They had another drink together. Steingruber pointed to a blond standing a short distance away and asked, ”What is your opinion of that one there?” Gordon peered at her and p.r.o.nounced, ”Pretty cheap looking. Yeah.” Stein-gruber looked at Gordon sharply. ”She's my wife.” In a moment, before Gordon could frame a suitable reply, he was gone.Lakin came by, smiling amiably. He was with 3 7 2 Bernard Carroway. ”I have heard that you are repeating Cooper's experiment,” Lakin said without preamble.”Who did you hear that from?””I could see for myself.”Gordon took his time. He had a swallow from his cup and discovered it was empty. Then he looked at Lakin. ”f.u.c.k off/' he said very clearly. Then he walked away.He found Penny in a crowd gathered around Marcuse. ”The newly appointed Communist-in-Residence?”

Gordon asked when he was introduced.

To his surprise, Marcuse laughed. A black woman graduate student standing nearby did not think anything was amusing. It developed that her name was Angela and that the revolution was not going to be brought about by people at c.o.c.ktail parties; this was all Gordon could get out of the conversation, or at least all he could remember. He took Penny's hand and wandered away.Jonas Salk was off in a corner. Gordon debated trying to meet him. Maybe he could find out how Salk felt about Sabin--who had really developed the vaccine? An interesting question, indeed. ”A parable of science,” Gordon muttered to himself. ”What?”

Penny asked. He steered her instead toward a pack of physicists. Some nagging voice within bid him to shut up, so he let Penny carry their fraction of the conversation. People around him seemed distant and vague. He tried to decide if this was due to him or due to them. The eternal relativistic problem. Maybe Marcuse knew the answer. Some Frenchmen asked Gordon about his experiments and he tried to sum up what he believed. It proved surprisingly difficult.

The odd thickness of his tongue had gone away, but there remained the. problem of what he himself thought was true. The Frenchmen asked about Saul.

Gordon sidestepped the question. He tried to keep discussion focused on the results of his experiments.

”As Newton said, 'I frame no hypotheses'--at least, ?.not yet. Ask me only about data.” He went off in search of moirb vodka, but the fountain bowl was empty. Sadly, he took the last of the crackers and pt. When he returned, Penny was standing a little distance away from the Frenchmen, staring out at the view of La Jolla and the satiny glow of the sea. The Frenchmen were speaking French. Penny seemed angry.

He tugged at her and she came along, glancing back.She insisted on driving them home, though Gordon could see no reason why he should not. Going past the beach clubs and rambling private homes, Penny said, ”Those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds,” with sudden vehemence.

”Huh? What?” She grimaced. ”After you wandered off they said you were a bungler.”Gordon frowned. ”They said that to you?””No, silly. They started speaking Frefich. They a.s.sumed that of course no American understands an-other language.”Oh.””They called you a fake. A fraud.””Oh.””They said everybody was saying that about you.”

”Everybody?””Yeah,” she said sourly.

CHAPTER THiRTY-FOUR.

OCTOBER 7, 1963.

IT CAME UP OUT OF THE NOISE SUDDENLY. ONE MINute the scope showed hash and Gordon was tinker-ing with a new band-pa.s.s filter, a recent circuit he'd breadboarded to cut through the noise. Then, abruptly, the NMR curves began to warp and change.

He stared at the scope, unmoving. It was 11 p.m.He brought his hand up to his lips, as if to mask a cry. The jiggling lines went on. It occurred to Gordon that he might be hallucinating. Fie bit his fing. er.

No, the ragged lines remained. Quickly, suppressing his excitement beneath the urge to be precise, he began to take data.

ACTION OF ULTRAVIOAMSLDUZ SUNEYDUFK OM CHAINS AP-.PEARS TO r.e.t.a.r.d DIFFUSION IN SURFACE LAYERS OF.AMSUWLDOP BUT GROWTH.RA 18 5 36 DEC 30 29.2.RA 18 5 FCDUEL 30 29.2.

'.RA 18 5 36 DEC 30 29.2.EFFECTS DIATOM ENZYME INHIBITED B NETWORK CHAIN RE-.

3 7 5.

PRO ATTEMPT TO CONTACT YOU WITH T CHYONIC BEAM.

WREDOPRL AL 'IINT SOURCE CAN VERIFY RA 18 5 3MCDU.DEC 30 29.2 RDUTFKIGLP ASLDURMFU CAMBRIDOLR '.CAMBRIDG DIATOM BLOOM GHTI3PDM ASANATH DEC 30 29.2.

THIS VIOLATES NO CAUSAL POSTULATE UNDER WHEELER-FEYNMAN.

FORMULATION AS LONG AS FEEDBACK IN CAUSAL.

LOOP PERMITS EXPERIMENT TO CONTINUE IMPERATIVE YOU.PEUrOR EXPTS TO CHECC MOLECULAR CHAIN XCDEURDL 18 5 36 DEC 30 29.2 TE DIFFERENTIAL AUSMP.