David Brin: The Practice Effect

The scowling Brady brightened suddenly when Gabriella gave him a peck as well, for equality. Then she sauntered away, doubtless aware that half the men in the lab were watching.

Richard Schwall shook his head and muttered. “... woman could upstage Lady Macbeth…” was all Dennis made out.

Brady snorted indignantly and stalked off.

As Dennis returned to his calculations, checking one last time to make sure he had made no mistakes, the pixolet launched itself into a low glide to land on a perch overlooking Richard Schwall. It peered over the balding tech’s shoulder, watching as he adjusted a portable electronic drafting tool for Dennis to take along.

For two days, ever since Dennis had declared the creature tame, the technicians had routinely looked up to find those tiny green eyes staring down at them. Uncannily, the pixolet always seemed to choose the trickiest adjustments to oversee.

As the preparations progressed smoothly, the creature became a status symbol of sorts. The techs used bits of candy to attract it over to their stations. It had become a good luck charm—a company mascot.

When Schwall looked up and saw the pixolet, he grinned and picked up the little alien so it could get a better look. Dennis put down his notes and watched the two interact.

The pixolet appeared less enthralled with what Schwall did than how the tech felt about it, When his face showed pleasure, the creature looked back and forth quickly, from Schwall to the sketch pad and back again.

Although it was clearly not a sentient being, Dennis wondered just how intelligent the little alien really was.

“Hey, Dennis!” Schwall grew excited. “Look at this! I’ve made a real neat picture of the launch tower in Ecuador! You know, the Vanilla Needle? I’ve never really noticed how good I am at this! Your little friend here really is lucky!”

There was a commotion at the back of the lab. Dennis nudged his associate. “Come on, Rich,” he said. “Get up. They’re here at last.”

Escorted by Bernald Brady, the lab Director approached the zievatron. With Flaster walked a short, stubby man with dark, intense features, who Dennis realized must be the new Science Minister of Mediterranea.

As he was introduced, Boona Calumny seemed to look right through Dennis. His voice was very high.

“So this is the brave young fellow who’s going to take over your wonderful work here, Marcel? And he’s starting right off by stepping through into that wonderful new place you’ve found?”

Flaster beamed. “Yes, sir! And we certainly are proud of him!” He winked conspiratorially at Dennis. Dennis was starting to realize just how badly Flaster wanted a success to show for his tenure at S.I.T.

“You’ll be careful in there, won’t you, my boy?” Calumny’s finger pointed at the airlock. Dennis wondered if the man really understood what was going on.

“Yessir, I will.”

“Good. We want you to return hale and hearty!”

Dennis nodded pleasantly, automatically translating the politician’s remarks from Executivese to English. He means that if I don’t come back there’ll be some nasty paperwork to fill out.

“I promise, sir.”

“Excellent. You know, bright young men like you are hard to find these days!” (Actually, you squirts are a dime a dozen, but you’re helping my buddy out of a jam.)

“Yessir,” Dennis agreed again.

“We have a real shortage of daring, adventurous types, and I’m sure you’ll go far,” Calumny went on. (We’re a bit low on meatheads this month. Maybe we can use you for a few more suicide missions if you come back from this one.)

“I expect so, sir.”

Calumny gave Dennis a very democratic handshake, then turned to whisper something to Flaster. The director pointed to a door, and the minister waddled out of the lab. Probably to wash his hands, Dennis thought.

“All right, Dr. Nuel,” Flaster said cheerfully, “hoist your little alien friend and let’s be off with you. I expect you back in under two hours… less if you can control your inclination to explore. We’ll have champagne chilled by the time you return.”

Dennis caught the pixolet in a midair glide from Rich Schwall’s hands. The little creature chirped excitedly. After all the crates were loaded ahead of him, Dennis stepped over the airlock’s combing.

“Beginning closure procedure,” one of the techs announced. “Good luck, Dr. Nuel!”

Schwall gave him thumbs up.

Bernald Brady came forward to guide the heavy door. “Well, Nuel,” he said lowly as the gears slowly turned, “you checked everything, didn’t you? You poked through the machine from top to bottom, read the biology report, and didn’t need to consult me at all, did you?”

Dennis didn’t like the fellow’s tone. “What are you getting at?”

Brady smiled, speaking softly so only Dennis could hear him. “I never mentioned it to the others, since it seemed so absurd. But it’s only fair to tell you.”

“Tell me about what?”

“Oh, it could be nothing at all, Nuel. Or maybe something pretty unusual… like the possibility that this anomaly world has a different set of physical laws than hold sway on Earth!”

By now the hatch had half closed. The timer was running.

This was ridiculous. Dennis wasn’t going to let Brady get to him. “Stuff it, Bernie,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t believe a word of your blarney.”

“Oh? Remember those purple mists you found last year, where gravity repelled?”

“Those were different entirely. No major difference in physical law could endanger me on Pix’s world—not when the biology is so compatible.

“But if there’s something minor you haven’t told me about,” Dennis continued, stepping forward, “you’d better spill it now or I swear I’ll...”

Strangely, Brady’s antagonism seemed to fall away, replaced by apparently genuine puzzlement.

“I don’t know what it is, Nuel. It had to do with the instruments we sent through. Their efficiencies seemed to change the longer they were there! It was almost as if one of the thermodynamic laws was subtly different.”

Too late, Dennis realized that Brady wasn’t just egging him. He really had discovered something that honestly perplexed him. But by now the hatch had closed almost all the way.

“Which law, Brady? Dammit, stop this process until you tell me! What law?”

Through the bare crack that remained, Brady whispered, “Guess.”

With a sigh the seals fell into place and the hatch became vacuum tight.

In the zievatronics lab, Dr. Marcel Flaster watched Brady turn away from the closed hatch of the anomaly machine. “What was that all about?”

Brady started. Flaster could have sworn the fellow grew even paler than normal.

“Oh, it was nothing. We were talking. Just something to pass the time while the hatch closed.”

Flaster frowned. “Well, I hope there won’t be any surprises at this late stage. I’m counting on Nuel to succeed. I need Flasteria badly with my confirmation hearings coming up next month.”

“Maybe he’ll manage to pull it off.” Brady shrugged.

Flaster laughed. “Indeed. From what I’ve seen around here, he’s sure to succeed. In the last few days he’s really got this place humming. I should have brought that young fellow back into this lab months ago!”

Brady shrugged. “Nuel might succeed. Then again, maybe he won’t.”

Flaster smiled archly. “Ah, well. If he fails, we’ll just have to send somebody else, won’t we?”

Brady swallowed and nodded. He watched the lab Director turn and walk away.

I wonder if I did the right thing? Brady thought, giving Nuel the wrong modules for fixing the return mechanism.