Part 13 (1/2)

Nepath stared into Devlin's eyes as he spoke. 'We shall need more material, of course. Much more.' If he looked closely he could see it inside the man. 'But we should dig that out in the process of our main objective.' Could see the fire that burned inside him.

Chapter Eleven.

Night Callers Though it was bitterly cold, it was a bright crisp day. s...o...b..ld spent the daylight hours visiting. He never seemed to have enough time to get to everyone who needed his attention. He took sick communion to Mrs Olson, and he inquired after Jimmy Moorgate's gout; he called on Michael Grisham to ask why he had missed church that week and found him suffering from a fever. He listened attentively and sympathetically while Rosie Devlin poured out her worries about her husband, about how he had become introverted and quiet since the mine reopened. Ruffling his hand through little Annie's hair, he told Rosie not to worry. Harry would work things out, he was a good man.

It was dark by the time s...o...b..ld returned to the Rectory. Betty was already preparing the dinner. He could hear the Doctor and Professor Dobbs talking in the drawing room as he took off his coat. At once he was reminded of the disagreement of the previous day, and again he felt annoyed by the Doctor's att.i.tude. He tried to push his feelings to the back of his mind as he went up to remove his ca.s.sock.

By the time s...o...b..ld joined them, dinner was almost ready. 'My apologies that I was not here when you returned from your expedition,' he told them, trying to keep his tone neutral.

'Your hospitality is more than generous as it is,' Dobbs replied. 'Please think nothing of it.' He glanced at the Doctor, as if for approval before adding. 'We have had a most remarkable morning. I must confess. Regardless of your misgivings, I believe you would have been fascinated by what has occurred.'

Despite his earlier feelings, s...o...b..ld found himself intrigued, and before long he was sitting listening to Dobbs's account of the events of the morning.

'I still maintain that it was not polite or proper for you to eavesdrop on this demonstration,' s...o...b..ld said when Dobbs had finished. 'But I do have to admit that this is indeed a remarkable story.' He turned to the Doctor. 'This material, these strange Eastern ceremonies... I have come across nothing of the kind before. Not in fact, or in the literature I have read on the subject.'

'Comparative religion?' the Doctor asked. 'I recall you said you had devoted time to the subject.'

'Indeed,' s...o...b..ld admitted. 'In the study I have various volumes on the subject. Eastern mythology and beliefs in particular interest me. There are distinct parallels with our own religion, as well as many differences. But the underlying metaphors and teachings are I believe reconcilable.'

'We must talk more on the subject,' the Doctor said, taking something from his pocket. 'But for the moment, this intrigues me rather more.'

It was a dull, dark ball which looked to s...o...b..ld like a children's marble, only larger As he watched, the Doctor squeezed the ball in his palm. When he opened his fingers the material was squashed into an amorphous ma.s.s. Like clay.

'It gets warm in my pocket,' he explained. 'Warm enough to reform into my rather dreary and crude attempt at sculpture.' He tossed the material across to s...o...b..ld.

It was soft, more malleable than s...o...b..ld had expected. He squeezed it flat and rolled it between his palms. There seemed to be no discernible smell, and it left no residue on his hands. He was still examining the substance when Betty came in to tell them that dinner was ready.

She watched her father work the material as she spoke. 'I've already eaten,' Betty said. 'I was hungry. I hope you will excuse me if I don't join you for dinner, but I am rather tired.'

'Of course, my dear.'

'What is that?' She reached out tentatively and s...o...b..ld handed her the lump of dark material. She held it for a moment between her forefinger and thumb before giving it back to the Doctor. 'Please excuse me,' she said again.

As he washed his hands at the small basin in his room, the Doctor could feel the warmth in his jacket. At first he thought it was the glossy cube that had led him here. Was it time, perhaps to move on?

But what he drew from his pocket was the dull material that Nepath had given him. It had once again refas.h.i.+oned itself into small sphere. It was warm, almost hot. He held it up, examining the material with interest. Was that the hint of a crack, a hairline mark anywhere?

'Are you coming, Doctor?' Dobbs called from outside his door.

'I'll be right with you.' He considered for a moment, then he dropped the ball into the basin, watching it sink below the soapy surface of the cold water. 'If you're a sphere when you're warm,' he murmured, 'what are you when you're cold?'

He did not wait to see. He closed and locked the door behind him on his way to dinner.

It was over the port after the meal that s...o...b..ld raised the issue of predestination. He had been mulling over the subject throughout the meal as Dobbs again described the events he and the Doctor had witnessed that morning.

They were back in the drawing room, each of them in his accustomed armchair. s...o...b..ld felt warm and comfortable. enjoying the company. 'We spoke before, Doctor, of what you called a clockwork universe, I recall.'

The Doctor nodded. 'We did indeed. We discussed the idea that it is possible with Newton's laws to predict the behaviour and path of every particle in the universe and how it reacts with and to every other particle,' he explained to Dobbs.

'I see,' the Professor replied. 'An intriguing notion. You subscribe, I a.s.sume then, to the prevalent theory that everything is indeed ”particulate” in structure and composition?'

'We had some debate about the soul of Man,' s...o...b..ld told him.

'Everything physical, then.'

'It occurs to me,' s...o...b..ld went on, 'that there is something of that same argument in the singular behaviour of the material you have described to me. It is as if the atoms within it know their appointed paths and places and return to them, if that is possible.'

'All atoms are in perpetual motion,' Dobbs agreed. 'That is well known. There is only the atoms and the s.p.a.ces between them. Relatively large s.p.a.ces in the case of a gas, less s.p.a.ce in a liquid, hardly any in a closely*knit solid. But still motion.'

'Leave an ingot of gold on top of another soft metal like lead, and you will find that the two begin to merge,' the Doctor added. 'Over a period years, you will begin to find grains of the one embedded within the other.'

'I didn't know that,' s...o...b..ld said. 'So does this mean that we admit a possible solution?'

'Doctor?' Dobbs prompted.

The Doctor was silent for several moments. 'I am loathe to ascribe so simple an explanation to so strange a phenomenon,' he said at last. 'If it were that straightforward, why has such a thing not be observed or demonstrated before?' He stood up and went over to the fire, turning so that he faced back to his friends. 'I am inclined to believe, partly because of my reluctance to give up free will, that there are more things in Heaven and Earth than are dreamed of in Newton's philosophy.'

'What a piece of work is a man?' s...o...b..ld asked, amused.

The Doctor's reply was as serious as it was pa.s.sionate. 'Exactly,' he declaimed, arm raised. 'Exactly so. There is something in this more than physical, more than explicable. The ancient Greeks had atomic theory of a sort. But they found it too boring, I'm sure that was why they never pursued the idea seriously. No, they saw more value more intellectual if not scientific value in the Platonic notion that everything is a flawed copy of the actual, perfect object. Or in Aristotle's theory.'

'Forgive me,' Dobbs interrupted. 'I am no philosopher.'

'Aristotle,' s...o...b..ld said, 'inclined to the belief that the universe is constructed of natural elements. Is that not so, Doctor? I a.s.sume that is your point.'

The Doctor was nodding enthusiastically. 'For two thousand years we have preferred Aristotle's romantic suggestion to Democritus's more accurate diagnosis of the nature of the world. And Aristotle said that everything devolved from, was created in some part from the four elements.' He counted them off on his fingers. 'Earth, air, water.' He paused, glanced at the dancing flames behind him. 'And fire.'

'And what does that tell us about the nature of this material? How does it help?' Dobbs wondered.

'Maybe it doesn't,' the Doctor admitted. 'But the solution is, as ever, within the problem itself. Understand the problem. and we shall find the answer.'

'The answer to what, though?' s...o...b..ld wondered. He was feeling weary from his long day walking. He stifled a yawn.

'There is evil here, all around us.' The Doctor leaned forward, hands thrust deep into his trouser pockets like a lecturer admonis.h.i.+ng an inattentive student. 'Can't you sense it? Doesn't it eat into your bones, your very being?'

'I am not sure that it does,' s...o...b..ld said. 'I am not sure that I understand at all, Doctor. But allow me a few hours sleep and. rested, I may be better able to follow your reasoning.'

As s...o...b..ld left the room, Dobbs was also rising, also yawning.

'Professor,' s...o...b..ld heard the Doctor's low voice behind him. He paused in the doorway just long enough to catch the rest of what the Doctor said. 'A moment, if you would.'

s...o...b..ld hesitated. Perhaps the Doctor wished to offer his condolences for the loss of Alistair Gaddis alone and in private. He stepped out of the room.

'I have a suggestion.' The Doctor's voice floated back to him as s...o...b..ld closed the door.