Paul Melko - The Walls of the Universe

He remembered how the cat-dog had been cut in half. The dial might well extend the range of the field, so that larger volumes of material could be transported. He wondered how large of a volume it could move between worlds. An entire building?

Then he began wondering why the field was not a sphere, with the device at the center. If it had been a sphere, he would have always scooped up an arc of dirt every time he transferred. But no, he only transferred to his feet. The field seemed to stop at the edge of his body, with his clothes included, but not beyond. The cat-dog had been gripping his leg when he’d transported through from that universe. He had been lying on the grass; the cat-dog had been attached to his calf. Yet none of the prairie he had been lying on had come though with him. Just himself, his clothes, and half the cat-dog.

Clearly the field followed some topology rules when it determined what passed through to the next universe. Perhaps whatever was in contact with the device up to a certain radius was included in the transfer, but earth material and air were not. Perhaps it was based on density. Only objects with a density near one were transported.

John wondered if that was a property of the field or it was determined in some fashion by the device. Perhaps there were circuits built into the fuzzy marshmallows to calculate the passenger’s topology. The thought that complex intelligence was built into the device daunted him. How would he reproduce that with simple diodes, resistors, and transistors? Then he wondered if he even needed to. Perhaps he could simplify it to the bare essentials needed to move between worlds.

The buttons on the front that incremented and decremented the universe counter also were easy to understand. He realized that one nexus of circuits kept the counter; they tied into the display and the toggle switch. These circuits modified the state of a complex three-dimensional circuit that John figured must determine which universe was the destination. John noted that the decrement and increment buttons did change the state, as did the third button. The first and second buttons changed it to a new one each time, while the third button changed the state to a fixed one every time.

John assumed that the third button represented some kind of reference universe. Perhaps it set the device to transfer to universe zero. If so, John wondered why it didn’t reset the display.

John paused, realizing it was nearly dawn and that he had actually simulated several functions of the device. Sure, they were smaller functions, but he had done it! Groups of circuits began to make sense in his head. He started to see the logic of it grow. A glance at a ganglion told him what it might do. It was slowly starting to make sense!

He’d covered the whole workbench by then, and had to place some of his circuits on the ground or the hood of his car. He’d need some card tables. He rubbed at his eyes. He needed sleep. He needed food, but he wasn’t leaving until he’d made more progress.

The basic controls, such as the field radius control, were easy to duplicate. The eigen matrix, as he came to call it, was the most complex. The hardest part of the neural mass was that connected to the trigger mechanism. It seemed to wrap around on itself like an Ouroborus eating its tail.

As he was turning to pick up a new circuit board, his foot caught the leg of the bench and he nearly sent all his work flying. He steadied himself, his chest heaving, his heart racing. He needed rest. He’d done enough.

John checked his watch: nine. He’d visit Casey again.

“John.”

“Casey! You’re awake.”

“Yeah, I’m awake and sore, but I think I’m okay.”

“I’m so sorry you got messed up in this,” John said.

Casey looked confused. “What are you talking about? Wasn’t it some crazed worker? Where are Henry and Grace?”

John lowered his voice. A nurse was standing outside the door to Casey’s room, and the same security guard was sitting on a bench watching.

“It was Visgrath,” John said. “He’s kidnapped Henry and Grace. He was here last night. He threatened your life.”

“What? That’s nuts.”

“What happened yesterday? When Henry showed up? What did you see?”

Casey shrugged, then closed her eyes. “Grace and I were in the office talking when that weird guy showed up.”

“Visgrath.”

“Yeah, that’s his name. She was apologetic to me, but Visgrath had to see her right then. He looked angry. They disappeared into her office, and I didn’t eavesdrop, but there was no missing that they were yelling.”

“About what?”

Casey shrugged again. “Dunno. I heard ‘circuit boards’ and ‘transfer device.’ I figured it was a pinball issue and none of my business.”

“If only.”

“And then Henry shows up, and he goes right in. They’re in there for a while, so I wander around. For five minutes or so, and then I see them leaving, only Visgrath is dragging Grace and another guy is dragging Henry. They don’t look happy. I run across the factory floor, but by the time I get there, they’re in a black minivan. I yell, ‘Hey! Wait! I’m calling the cops!’ or something like that. It was clear Grace and Henry didn’t want to go. Then I get hit, and, man, did that hurt. I woke up in the hospital.”

“Who shot you?”

“I don’t know. Nobody in the first minivan. The doors and windows were closed.”

“The first?”

“There were two, but I didn’t look at the second.”

John shook his head. Visgrath had found out about the circuit boards that Grace had charged on her corporate card; that was apparent. He’d confronted her and she’d let out or he’d deduced that they were building a transfer device. He’d taken Grace and Henry, thinking perhaps they were travelers too, thinking they had knowledge of building a device.

“Do you believe me now?” John asked.

“About what?”

“My paranoid delusions!”

“I guess even paranoids can be right about someone out to get them,” Casey said, with a slight grin.

“Thanks for your support.” John paused, then said, “Casey, I may be gone for a while, or something might happen to me.”

“John! What are you going to do? Just go to the police!”

“We can’t. They’ll kill Grace and Henry. I’ve got to do this in a different way.”

“What way?”

“I can’t say, in case they get to you.”

“John!”

“I’ll do everything I can to win this, Casey. I promise.”

“Oh, John. You’re a big paranoid idiot.”

“I can’t argue with that.” He bent over and kissed her dry lips. “See ya.”

John slept through the morning in the barn, his dreams filled with circuits like mazes that he ran down. The capacitors were huge balloons that slowly grew until they exploded. The resistors were thin sewer lines that he had to crawl through. He reached the end of the maze, only to discover that the last door opened onto a huge white fiber labyrinth even larger than the one before. He awoke covered in sweat.

His back stiff, John stood again before the array of circuits and wires. He didn’t know where to begin. A wave of panic crept through him. Things that seemed clear the night before were vague in his mind in the light of day. It was a Rube Goldberg contraption; he was a fool to think he could understand the device’s logic.

He wrung his hands, and then turned his attention to a single circuit. Break the problem down, he thought. Start with a simple thing. Then go to the next thing. Don’t hold the whole problem in your head at once. Just the part you need to look at first. Then it would be easier to add to the whole later.

As he was staring at the diagram, a piece of it suddenly clicked. He started placing pieces together, soldering, wiring. He didn’t have to understand it to duplicate it. Understanding would come later. Maybe ten years later, when his friends’ lives weren’t in jeopardy.