Jack McDevitt: Firebird

Leah introduced the topic, which would be Chris Robin, “the physicist who disappeared forty-one years ago.”

She turned to Alex first, and he started by admitting that his own grasp of physics was virtually nonexistent, and he was consequently not competent to speak about Robin's work. He then proceeded to do so, describing Robin's desire to break into new territory, his attempt to explain why the universe was “biology friendly,” his conviction that there were alternate universes, and his determination to answer the cosmic questions that everyone else had long since given up on.

I knew that Alex had been reading everything he could find on the subject, and I was familiar with his work ethic, so I wasn't surprised by his performance.

Adams sat through this, looking placidly at the ceiling like a man wondering why he was there. When Leah turned to him and asked for a comment, he shook his head. “When there's solid evidence for any of this,” he said, “I'll be happy as anyone to look at it. In the meantime, all of this talk about branes and places where the physics is different and all the rest of it is just that: talk. It's idle speculation and nothing more, and I'm sure Mr. Benedict would agree.”

Leah smiled pleasantly. “I wonder if either of you would mind telling us what an alternate universe might look like?”

Adams managed a patient smile. “With luck,” he said, “it would be one without deranged antique dealers.”

Alex returned the smile but let it pass. “I would hope so. But, to answer your question, Leah, an alternate universe is simply a place where the rules are different. For example, if the gravity is weak, stars might never form. Or maybe the rules are pretty much the same, but the history is different. A place, say, where the Greeks built the pyramids. Or where we are different. For example, you might be the person who deals in antiquities, while I'm running a talk show. And Professor Adams has an open mind.”

Adams went back to examining the ceiling.

She laughed. Jokes between friends. “Are we saying that a place like that might actually exist?”

“It's possible. Some physicists say it's a mathematical necessity.”

Adams made a sound deep in his throat. “As much as it pains me to admit it,” he said, “Mr. Benedict has it right.”

“Then these places do exist.”

“In all probability,” said Adams, “yes.”

She looked from one of her guests to the other. “Is there any evidence that Professor Robin found a way to cross over to one of these places? Is that where this is going?”

“I wouldn't call it evidence,” said Alex. “Some people claim he did.”

“Did he ever make the claim?”

“Not that I know of.”

She turned back to Adams. “Arlen, what's the common wisdom on this? Will it ever be possible to travel to one of these places? Assuming they exist? “

He used his folded hands to support his chin. “Ever is a long time, Leah. Certainly, we won't be jumping into one of Mr. Benedict's universal cabs to visit them anytime soon.”

Leah nodded. “I'm glad we have some consensus. Let's talk about his disappearance.”

Adams had been wearing a superior smile. Now it faded, and his features took on a regretful aspect. “He came back from a trip to Skydeck, was dropped off outside his house, and nobody ever saw him again. He'd probably been drinking and fell into the ocean.”

She turned back to Alex: “But you think he disappeared into an alternate universe?”

“I didn't say that.”

She brightened. “I wish you would.”

“Leah, there's no way to be sure what really happened. We're looking into it now.”

“Good luck with that,” said Adams.

“Alex, don't you think if there were anything to any of this, somebody would already have looked into it?”

“People have, Leah. The police still have his case open, but it remains a mystery. Did he fall into the sea? Was he taken by someone? Or did something outside our experience happen to him? Professor Adams has that part of it right: The story's so wild that most physicists don't want to touch it. I mean, it does nothing for your professional standing to take something like this seriously. So they keep a respectful distance. Should it turn out at some future date that he actually did find a way out of this reality, there'll be no shortage of Professor Adams's colleagues claiming they suspected it all the time.”

“So you do think it's possible, Alex? To cross into another universe?”

“Who's to say what's possible and what isn't, Leah?” Alex glanced at Adams, who had closed his eyes and was just perceptibly shaking his head. Who, indeed? It was times like this that left me wishing I'd gone into real estate.

What had really happened on the evening that Eliot Cermak brought Chris Robin home? The best approach would have been to ask Cermak, but he unfortunately did not have an avatar on the Web. But Elizabeth did.

Avatars are notoriously unreliable, of course, because they will say what they've been directed to say. So-and-so was an idiot. I never saw the jewelry. I never did the stuff they accused me of. But sometimes, if you're careful, and you ask the right questions, you can get a piece of the truth.

Alex asked me to stay with him for the interview. Women, he believed, even avatars, usually responded more readily if there was a second woman present.

The Elizabeth who appeared that morning was not the young dark-haired beauty who'd been in the photos. The luster had faded. I saw a more accomplished version of her sister Karen. Her eyes suggested a weary competence rather than the effusive charm of her younger self. Her hair was cut short in a severe fashion that had vanished a generation earlier. “Hello,” she said quietly. “What can I do for you?”

We introduced ourselves. “We've been employed by your sister,” Alex explained, “to determine the value of some of the estate items that you passed on to her.”

“Oh, yes.” Her lips tightened. “She intends to sell everything, does she?”

“No. I didn't mean to give you that impression. But she's concerned that you and your husband have not received the kind of credit you deserve. It's been a while now since your husband's disappearance, and, as happens to so many of us, people are beginning to forget his contributions. And yours, since without you, he could not have been so effective.”

Those dark eyes reflected a touch of amusement. “You do speak well, Mr. Benedict. What did you want to know?”

“We'd like to know whether you have any idea at all what happened to him?”

She studied Alex momentarily, then looked my way. “May I sit down?”

Usually, an avatar provides its own chair if it wishes to sit. “Of course,” said Alex, indicating that she was welcome to use any of the available chairs or the other end of the sofa that he was using.

Elizabeth smiled pleasantly and picked the sofa. “I have no idea what happened to him. It is a question that has always haunted me. I just don't know. I wish I did.”

“Do you know of anyone who might have had a motive-?”

“There were people who didn't like him. Some who were jealous. But I don't think anyone would ever have gone so far.” She shook her head. “I just don't know. Obviously, someone had a reason.”

“Is it possible he might have taken off on his own?”

“I've wondered about that, too. Years ago, I would have been shocked at the question. But I've gotten used to it. Every time I was introduced to someone, they always found a way to ask that.”

“I'm sorry.”

“We were happy, Mr. Benedict. I loved him.” She was staring past us, looking at some distant place. “And he was in love with me.”

Alex signaled me to take over. “What actually happened that night, Elizabeth?”