John Cramer - Einstein's Bridge

“That is my Egg,” said Tunnel Maker. “I produced it by manipulating atoms with coherent radiation. In a sense, I am contained in that Egg. Pick it up, please.”

George did so. The object had a slightly rough surface and felt warm in his hand. “I see you used our tabletop in your molecular rearrangements,” he said.

“Yes,” said Tunnel Maker. “I hope the object that provided the donor atoms was not of great value to you. It was necessary to damage it, in order to produce the Egg. You must now take the Egg and follow the instructions I will give. The survival of your species depends on you. I hope you believe this.”

George looked at Alice, then at the small white sphere in his hand. “What is it you want us to do with this thing?” he asked.

“The second phase of contact involves teaching you new skills. This cannot easily be accomplished through a microscopic Bridge. The Egg you hold, if placed in the proper environment, will grow to become a Maker Emissary, a temporary replica of me, complete with my mental processes and memories. I have designed the Egg to grow in an environment that is common on your planet, a body of water that is rich in minerals and marine life. I believe you call it an ‘ocean.’ Ours is a race of amphibians, and this seems natural to us. You should take the Egg to such a body of water and select a relatively private place. For your own benefit, it should be well away from what you call the ‘news media.’ You should place the Egg into the water and wait twenty-four hours. At the end of that time, our Emissary will emerge at the same location where the Egg was placed.”

“You want us to drive to an ocean and drop in the Egg?” said George. “Why? Why did you make the Egg so that it needs an ocean? Why do we need privacy?” “I did what I could do quickly with the resources available to me,” said Tunnel Maker. “The environment of privacy is best for the communication and learning that must take place. I hope you trust me. I mean you only good, and time is short, for reasons that you will learn about soon.”

“It goes against my judgment to blindly follow orders,” said George.

“I understand,” said Tunnel Maker, “but I urge you to at least find a place such as I suggested while you are considering your proper course of action. It would be better for you to be in a place that is less public than your present location.”

George frowned.

Alice pointed at the Egg and nodded.

“Okay, dammit,” said George. “We will do what you ask, at least the first part. What about this communication apparatus?”

“It will continue in operation,” said Tunnel Maker. “I believe there are others of your Team Snark who can see to its operation. But it would be better for the two of you to take the Egg and leave now.”

“Okay,” said George. He took a large sheet of laboratory tissue, folded it around the Egg, and slipped the packet into his jacket pocket. Then he began stuffing papers into his briefcase.

Alice folded her lapstation and prepared to leave.

George called for replacements from Team Snark, giving the excuse that an unexpected emergency in Seattle had come up. Then together George and Alice walked through the limestone tunnel to the elevator.

When the elevator doors opened at ground level, there was Roger, who had been waiting to descend.

“Roger, you’re supposed to be at home resting,” said George.

“I’m all right,” said Roger. “Where are you going?”

He was wearing his perennial backpack. George noticed how pale and weak he looked. George was silent for a moment and looked inquiringly at Alice.

She nodded.

“Walk with us to the parking lot, and I’ll explain,” said George. He told Roger about the Egg and Tunnel Maker’s instructions.

“I’m going with you,” Roger said abruptly as they reached Alice’s car.

“But you can’t, Roger,” Alice objected. “You’re ill. You should be home in bed.”

“I owe you an explanation about that,” said Roger. “Let’s drive.”

“Where?” asked Alice.

“Hm,” said George, taking a Texas map from the glove compartment and studying it. “I think we should go to Interstate 45 and head south to the Gulf Coast area beyond Houston. The Gulf of Mexico is the nearest piece of ocean. Do either of you need to pack clothes or anything?”

Roger shook his head. “I can make do with what’s in here,” he said, patting his backpack.

“Reporters’ habits die hard,” said Alice. “I always keep a jump bag packed and ready in the trunk of my car. What about you?”

“I’ll buy some things when we get there,” said George. “Let’s go.”

Alice headed south on 1-45. As she drove, Roger told them the tale of synaptine and his experiments with it. “Synaptine is wonderful and deadly,” he concluded. “Under its influence, I’ve been able to understand its actions far better than Susan had. It does create a kind of back-propagation loop in the human nervous system. And it also does other things. Have you ever wondered why large brains and intelligence are not more common in the animal kingdom?” He looked across at George and Alice.

“I suppose because it took time to evolve them,” said George.

“And then there’s the business of the head diameter and the birth canal,” Alice added.

“Which is nonsense,” said Roger. “Nature is extremely good at duplicating or enlarging an organ if it proves useful for survival. One can find thousands of examples of that in evolutionary biology. But only humans, dolphins, and whales have large brains, and in the latter two the brain structure seems more devoted to signal processing than intelligence. But, George, what happens when you make a neural network too big or give it too many layers?”

“Oh!” said George. “It goes unstable.” “Exactly,” said Roger. “It has become clear to me that the problem with making big brains is not in producing them but in stabilizing them. It took nature a long time to evolve the stabilization mechanisms of the human brain. And it’s still not highly stable, as any psychiatrist can testify. We teeter at a delicate balance point on the edge of stability, and some of us fall over the edge into obsession, paranoia, manic-depressive cycles, or epileptic fits.”

“And synaptine affects that stability?” asked George.

“Yes,” said Roger. “I’ve been having epileptic fits of increasing severity. During the last one, my heart stopped, and an emergency team had to use an electric jolt to restart it. Susan’s rhesus monkey, Elvis, died last week of a similar seizure.”

“What about antiepilepsy drugs?” asked Alice.

“My condition isn’t really epilepsy. That’s only a convenient label. The standard antiepileptic drugs like ritalin have no effect on the problem and produce some really unpleasant side effects. I’ve tried them. I’ve been having about one seizure per week. The last one was a couple of days ago. I think the next episode, or perhaps the one after that, will probably kill me,” Roger said calmly.

“But why don’t you just stop taking synaptine?” asked Alice.

“A large concentration of synaptine was the trigger, not the ongoing cause,” said Roger. “Once the seizure syndrome is established, withdrawal of the drug has no effect. Besides, I’ve needed the intellectual boost I get from synaptine to understand the Snark problem. And I have a bit of it left. Perhaps I’ll need it again.”

George patted his pocket, where the Egg lay nested. “Perhaps you will,” he said grimly.

ROGER HUNCHED HIS SHOULDERS AND STRETCHED. Alice had driven south from Waxahachie on Interstate 45. After several hours of rural Texas cropland and an hour of threading past the strip-mall suburban sprawl of Houston, they had crossed the long causeway beyond La Marque and entered Galveston onto Avenue J, otherwise known as Broadway, the backbone arterial of the island city. Broadway was lined with tall palm trees and knife-leafed oleanders adorned with pink and white blossoms. Even with the car windows closed and the air conditioner running, Roger could detect their oversweet scent.