petermaize

The Jubilee Machine Pt II

 

James handed Benton an iced tea, then settled down on the grass next to him. James felt and looked out of place with his crisply-pressed khaki pants, button down shirt and preppy haircut. Benton had already taken his shirt off, revealing at least four tattoos that James could discern. James perched stiffly on the grass as Benton reclined on one elbow, sipping tea through the straw. University students strolled by on their way to class.

“So it’s ready?” James asked.

Benton shrugged.

“We lack precision, James. It’ll work, but our hardware isn’t designed to handle significant mass, and that prohibits sufficient accuracy.”

James nodded. He’d anticipated that. “Yes, we initially…”

Benton interrupted. “I mean, I can fine tune the coordinates until the variance is negligible, but the problem will be when the agents are inserted into the loop. The CTC’s not big enough, you know. It was never designed for humans. Hell, the Cassandra team is unsure about sending a paperclip back in time.”

James didn’t like Benton. The man was a mathematical genius who could intuitively spot flaws in calculations and respond with innovative new approaches—just what the project had demanded. But he was rude, confrontational and aloof. And he showed no respect for anyone. Just like his girlfriend.

“Yes, we know, Benton,” James said crossly.

Benton looked at the yuppie administrator through lavender-tinted sunglasses.

“So using the calcs we’re currently working with, you also know that the likely error will be at least 40 years, and hundreds of miles. And that’s best-case, Jimbo. Gets worse the farther back you go.”

James stared impassively at Benton, although he couldn’t see the mathematician’s eyes through the glasses. James wanted to jerk them from Benton’s face. He remained calm.

“Yes, that’s exactly right. And we can wait another 40 years for more money to fund an even more powerful decelerator, or ask the Europeans to join in. Or…”

He shifted on the grass, aware that he was probably getting stains on his pants. His back was getting stiff.

“…we can take our chances now. In some cases—worst case scenario—one of you will arrive a couple of decades off target and have to do some hiking. But for the first target—Second Dynasty Egypt—we can afford to be a little bit off, don’t you think, Benton?”

If James had thought that invoking the aura of ancient Egypt would fire Benton’s imagination, he was wrong.

“I’m just saying you can’t determine with sufficient certainty where you’re going to end up. I’ve done all I can with this set of calculations. It won’t get any better if I spend more time with them.”

Benton drained his ice tea and rattled the ice cubes in the cup.

“I’d like to focus on the stuff I was doing for Badri a few weeks ago. That stuff shows real promise. That’s where we might have a chance to narrow the window.”

“That won’t be necessary, Benton. You’ve already answered all my questions.”

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

Benton was leaning against the hood of Ellen’s Jeep as she exited the main door of the Electromagnetic Research Building. She shouldered her purse and walked toward him across the parking lot. As she approached he straightened up.

“Congratulations,” he said, removing his sunglasses.

“For what?”

Benton put the glasses in the pocket of his leather jacket.

“Good girl. Deny all knowledge. Now, let’s go celebrate. I know an excellent Thai restaurant in town. But it’s too far to walk, so we’ll have to take your car.”

“Are you on drugs?”

“Not yet,” he grinned.

He went and stood by the passenger door. Ellen just stared at him.

“Excuse me, but I’m going home now. Have a nice evening.”

Benton hunched his shoulders impatiently, like a kid.

“Ellen, Badri told me this morning. Welcome to the team that doesn’t exist. I’m glad to see Badri’s death threats have had an impact on you. Now, let’s go have some caustic tom yum soup, extinguish it with some ice cold beers, and make fun of James McPherson.” He drummed his fingers on the roof of the Jeep.

Ellen paused. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about, but the Thai idea sounds good. You can treat me.”

She beeped the locks and they got in. Benton looked Ellen over as she started up the car.

“How much you weigh?”

“About one-ten. You doing a survey or something?”

They turned out of the nearly-empty parking lot and bounced over the speed bumps.

“I bet they let you go first.”

“Say what?”

“Your mass,” Benton said. “It’s the smallest of all of us. Better chance that you’ll arrive intact and be able to leave some sort of indication that it worked.”

Ellen steered toward the campus exit, then glanced over at Benton.

“I don’t care who goes first. I just wanna go. How soon?”

Benton turned to look out the window, then turned back.

“It’s ready now, Ellen. The great thing is, it is so risky that the techs who built the decelerator have absolutely no idea that we would ever put a human being in there. I mean, these guys are still drawing up detailed plans for introducing molecules into the loop to see if they disappear.”

He laughed, a hearty, smoker’s laugh.

“How long have you been with Cassandra?” Ellen asked him.

“I joined up officially just a month before you did. But I was working with Badri on specific calculations for about, oh, I guess four months before that. Interesting stuff, but nothing we’re using now.”

“What do you mean?”

Benton shrugged. “James took one look at what I was doing and told me I was wasting my time, so now my attention is directed elsewhere.”

Ellen pondered that information for a moment, then asked, “Do you think James is really the brains behind this?”

“No way,” Benton stated flatly. “James is the figurehead, my dear. Badri Singh is the Cassandra project. And let me tell you, I have no doubt that he will do anything to ensure total secrecy—in other words, to allow us to proceed undetected and unrestrained with our project. So, you’ve been warned. But I’m not worried that anyone on the team will talk. We all love this thing too much to spoil it. I’m betting the first time traveler departs next month. We just don’t know who it’s going to be yet.”

Ellen drove out of the university and down the boulevard. Next month, she thought. Unbelievable.

“Turn left here,” Benton said suddenly. Ellen braked quickly and turned down a street that only seemed to contain auto parts shops and restaurant supply companies, all dark and closed for the night.

“There,” he pointed. There was no illuminated sign, but as they got closer Ellen saw the lights in the window and a hand-painted sign that promised Real Thai Cwisine.

“This had better be good. I could be home right now watching The Walking Dead.”

   “It’s a repeat.”

Inside it was packed. The waitress seemed to know Benton. Cool glasses of lime juice arrived immediately and Benton offered a toast.

“To the newest member of the team. Welcome.”

“Thanks.”

Benton’s eyes flashed. “James says if we play our cards right, we can each be master of our own universe.”

Ellen’s brow furrowed. “What?”

Benton smiled and shrugged. “Well, you know James.”

“Not really,” Ellen replied, leaning back. She assessed Benton as he sat slouched in his hardback chair with the sparkly upholstery. She didn’t know him very well, either, and she needed to be careful. The elite team she was joining was the most secret of societies. They were fooling everyone—the government, the scientific community, and the entire Cassandra team—for the chance to pursue a goal without restrictions, disregarding safety or prudence; acting with no constraints, just the pure motivation of discovery in the most esoteric of scientific realms. Like Marie Curie, or the 19^th century scientists who tested their hypotheses on themselves, they were willing guinea pigs. Secrecy among the group was paramount. Ellen didn’t even want to risk gossiping, so she didn’t pursue the opening regarding James.

“You afraid?” Benton asked, eyes homing in on hers.

“Of what?”

“Dying anonymously in a strange land; getting caught doing what we’re doing; me.”

Ellen sipped her juice before she answered. She set the glass back on the stained placemat.

“No to all three,” she said without a trace of emotion. Benton smiled.

“I believe you. Ellen. We just might get along.”

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

James was a big believer in the strategy of hiding in plain sight. And what could be less suspicious than a group of colleagues gathering together in a pizza parlor?

“We’ve come a long way in the art of disguising top secret projects,” he mused, munching on a slice of Hawaiian pizza. “These days, the surest way to attract attention is build a big, secret facility with lots of barbed wire and armed guards. But if an obscure group of researchers dabbling with funny ideas about slowing the speed of light gets a few million dollars to pursue ideas with no practical application, then no one pays attention. Just scientists being scientists. Bang! You’ve got a fully functional program that’s operating in plain sight.”

“Dumb as foxes, eh?” commented Jeremy, sipping a glass of wine. Jeremy had very obviously latched onto James recently, which annoyed the other team members. James seemed to enjoy having a sycophant, especially this evening. He’d consumed two glasses of wine, which was more than he usually ever drank at one time. Still, he was in control; no slip-ups tonight.

“Yes, like foxes,” he smiled. James looked around the table. Badri was deep in discussion with Ken. Antoine was lost in thought, sitting at the end of the table.

Ellen and Benton were laughing merrily. James was not pleased that the mathematician and the anthropologist had recently embarked on a rather obvious romance. Extremely unprofessional. Fortunately it was a moot point. James stood up and cleared his throat.

“Thanks everyone for coming. It’s been fun. It’s good to see each other outside the research environment. I’m afraid I have to leave, but please feel free to stay and have some fun. You deserve it.”

James scanned the smiling, attentive faces.

“Oh, and one last thing: we’ll make our first attempt on Tuesday. Benton goes first.”

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

Benton turned off the laptop and pushed the screen down until it closed with a click.

“I’ve got something for you.”

Ellen lifted her head and looked at Benton through a tangle of hair.

“For me? What is it?”

Benton reached over and opened the drawer of his desk. He pulled out a small box.

“Oooh.”  Ellen sat up and brushed the hair from her face. “Looks like jewelry. Unless this is a mathematician’s tie clip or something.”

By his smile Ellen could tell it was not a tie clip.

Gently Ellen opened the box. Inside was a necklace. At first Ellen thought the pendant on the chain was in the shape of an infinity sign. Then she realized it was two entwined roses.

“How beautiful! I never knew you were such a romantic.” She kissed him.

“Well, I didn’t want to give you something cliché, you know, ‘time related’. So I opted for the traditional romantic route. Besides…” he said, reaching out to tuck a shock of hair behind Ellen’s ear, “I think I may be in love with you.”

Ellen’s cheeks ignited with red. She ducked her head, and the honey-blonde tangle covered her face again. She said nothing.

Benton grinned, and peeked under her canopy of curls. “Didn’t mean to make you blush. Just thought I’d tell you how I felt, seeing as how…” They both knew the rest of the sentence, but neither wanted to hear the words: I might never see you again.

Ellen looked up, and took his hand in both of hers. “Yeah,” she said softly, “it’s possible I’m falling in love with you, too, Benton. But maybe it’s just a shipboard romance or something like that. We’ll have to give it time.”

They both grinned at the incongruity of that word. Time was their vocation, their livelihood. They treated time the same way a stockbroker treats money or an engineer treats steel.

For a moment they just sat in the bulky metal chairs, under the fluorescent lights amidst the computers and boxes. Benton broke the silence.

“You know; I never would have expected I’d fall for a girl like you. You’re so…nice.

I usually get the biker chicks or attitude problems. Never thought I’d lose my heart to the president of the glee club.”

“You’re not half as surprised as me. I’ve never had a boyfriend with a tattoo before, let alone one with a criminal record.” She paused to assess his reaction. Benton wasn’t smiling. He was looking directly into her eyes.

“But it’s not exteriors or resumes that I’m looking for. It’s what’s inside. And over the past few months I’ve gotten a good look at your heart, Benton. I like what I see.”

She raised her hand to stroke Benton’s cheek, then left her palm against the rough, firm skin. “Just don’t get any more tattoos.”

They both laughed and leaned back, breaking the tension that had formed around them.

“Okay. At least not until I get back from Egypt.” Benton looked at his watch. “I need to get some sleep. You sure you won’t join me?”

This was the wrong question, even stated in a jovial fashion. Ellen stood up.

“That’s another thing that makes us different, Benton.” They’d had this conversation before. She slipped into his arms and they held each other for a long time.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Yep. I really do love you, you know.”

“Ditto.”

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

Benton exhaled, then curled up in a ball. Ellen could see the tendons tensing in his arms as they gripped his calves. The image of the Wright Brothers popped, unbidden, into her head. Years from now, she thought, this will seem so primitive. My God, we’re like the first pilots, braving the sky in the ricketiest contraptions imaginable, unsure exactly how it will work out. Just taking flight, taking chances. Incredible.

But for all the seeming absurdity of the lone individual crouched on a platform, the precision needed to transport him anywhere near the intended target was astounding. Ellen looked up at James and Jeremy, who were leaning over the monitors, intensely focused on the numbers. She wondered again why Badri wasn’t here for the moment of triumph. It didn’t make sense.

There was no sound in the big room. Benton was motionless in the sphere, pressed against the launcher. Ellen shook her head. Another primitive tool in this crazy mixture of advanced technology and cowboy adventurism. Benton was about to be shoved into the past by a metal prod. Not very elegant.

“Ten seconds!” James shouted. Ellen realized that Benton couldn’t hear him inside the sphere. To him, the lunge into the past would come suddenly, without warning. She wished he could see her, that their eyes could meet just once before he disappeared—forever? But Benton’s eyes were closed, his head down.

“That’s it. That’s it.” James repeated, nodding his head and staring at the monitor. “Get ready.”

James placed his finger on the button, another arcahic device utilized in this monumental task. A button. A push. Good Lord.

Everyone was frozen stiff, as if a slight motion from an onlooker would tip Benton into the wrong century.

“GO!” James shouted, and he pushed the red button. Red, of course. Of course.

Benton disappeared.

Ellen didn’t detect the push: no forward movement of Benton’s body being thrust into the loop. One moment he was crouched motionless in the cradle, the next he was gone.

The room remained silent. Everyone stared at the empty space where Benton had been. Eventually they began looking at each other, some with smiles, others shaking their heads in awe at what they had just witnessed, at what they had done.

   James dropped his head and sighed loudly, exhausted.

“And so it begins,” he whispered.

 

Benton thudded to the ground and rolled. He put out his hand and touched warm, rough sand. Eyes flipping open, Benton quickly looked around. He was lying on his side in an open, arid expanse of land. The sky was deep blue with wisps of cirrus clouds. The air was warm, but not hot. He was breathing heavily.

So, where am I?

Benton slowly got to his feet, weighed down by all the supplies, gold and instruments hidden in his clothes. A sudden breeze rustled his robe. Standing up, he looked slowly around the landscape. It looked like Palestine. Dusty, irregular hills. Minimal vegetation.

No sign of life.

For a moment Benton wondered if James had chickened out and actually sent him to Second Dynasty Egypt, had abandoned their last-minute agreement to reconfigure the loop for Palestine. That thought was shoved out of his mind by a surge of emotion.

I’ve done it. I’ve gone back in time. I am the first time traveler! I am alive.

He felt an exhilaration, a euphoria, that he had never known before. All the times he had imagined this moment, he could never have conjured the emotions he was now experiencing. For an instant, he felt like weeping. Benton took a few steps forward. He reached into his vest pocket for the compass. As he took it out, he heard the sound of voices in the distance.

.