Scott Mackay - Phytosphere

“I used to let people push me around all the time, but not anymore.”

“I haven’t given up, Stephanie.”

“I know you haven’t. I just wanted to come here to make sure of that.”

“I can’t give up.”

“I know.”

“And in a day or two, I’m going to bug them again about a second Smallmouth .”

“Let’s go look at Earth.”

“Yes, the many-storied globe.”

“Uh… right.”

They walked down the corridor toward the observatory, past the ticket booth, the concession stand, and the public washrooms. She slipped her hand through his arm, and it felt good, reminded him of his wife, and he took support from it, even though she was young enough to be his daughter.

“I haven’t seen Gwen around,” he said. “What happened to her?”

“She’s gone back home to Copernicus, now that all the shows have closed.”

“Oh. She’s from Copernicus. And what about you? What about your mother and father?”

“I never met my father, and I don’t get along with my mother. I’m making it on my own.”

“You don’t have a boyfriend?”

“I do.”

“You do? Who?”

“You.”

“Steph… I wouldn’t think of me as your—”

“A boyfriend can be many things. One of the things he can be is married. Another thing he can be is alone. And you’re really alone, Gerry. You need me. You might not know it, but you do. And that doesn’t necessarily mean there has to be anything physical.”

He nodded. She was young, a trifle overdone in her expressions, but he appreciated her sentiment anyway.

“You’re a sweet man,” she said.

“Thanks.”

“No, I really mean it. And you’re awfully smart.”

“Thanks. You’re full of compliments tonight.”

“I’m just trying to soften the blow.”

His eyes narrowed. “Soften what blow?”

“The blow you’re going to feel when I point out the obvious to you. I was hoping you were going to get it by yourself, and I wasn’t going to have to say anything because I didn’t want to bruise your ego, considering how bruised it’s been already, but now I realize that we can’t wait any longer.”

He stopped. “Can’t wait any longer for what?”

He was starting to feel more like an idiot every second.

“Let’s just get to the observatory, and I’ll show you.”

“Something about the phytosphere?”

“Like I say, you’re awfully smart.”

His face warmed. Had he really missed something? What could he have missed?

In the observatory she presented the monitors like a showgirl, with a jutting of her hip and a c’est voile

` posturing of her hands, as if the monitors were the prize behind Door Number 3.

He didn’t get it. “I’m sorry?”

“Turn on the accelerated infrared footage.”

He did as she said. “It’s on.”

“Take a close look and tell me what you see.”

He saw the same thing he always saw, the stress band from north to south. “Okay…Okay, what am I missing?”

He was afraid she was going to disappoint him with something that had absolutely no relevance.

“You’re sure you won’t be upset? I know the male ego is…”

He looked more closely at the screens. “Steph, if you can offer some fresh perspective…something I’ve been missing….”

“Look closely at the archival screen, Gerry. Tell me what you see. You won’t get mad because a showgirl figured this out, will you?”

“Of course not.”

“Just take a look and see if you can puzzle it out.”

“What am I supposed to see?” he said.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“On the archival screen?”

“Yes, that screen.”

“I see the same thing I always see. The stress band.”

“Speed it up some more,” she said.

He sped the whole thing up, splicing three weeks into a four-minute segment.

“So?” said Stephanie.

He bowed. “Master, I admit my profound ignorance.”

“Gerry, you’re a goddamned ocean scientist.”

It was one of those sublime moments of humiliation, when a girl of twenty-two who had no scientific background and just went around feeling her way through life, not analyzing it, could outguess him in the overall pattern of a natural phenomenon. Despite the humiliation, he could have kissed her.

“I see tides.”

“Exactly.”

“It’s gravity.”

“Yes!”

The more he looked at the patterns, the more it became clear to him—he was seeing tides. Tides in the actual phytosphere itself, with the tidal pattern affected by the underlying weather systems, so that the stress band wasn’t a precise thing, but more a ragged line stretching from north to south poles. No wonder he had been confused. Moon tides. And with this realization, the dominoes fell into place—why the flagella behaved one way when they were in orbit around the Earth, and why, when in the lab, with no cohesive center of gravity, they fell apart. Gravity, acting as an anchor, triggered the flagella to cling. Take that gravity away, and the trigger was gone.

“Do you want to have sex now?” said Stephanie. “You’ve kind of got this glow about you. I’m sure your wife would understand.”

“Stephanie, we just had something better than sex. We had a meeting of the minds.”

She looked doubtful. “If you say so.”

“And you might have saved Earth.”

Her voice became giddy. “Really?”

“Yes.”

He had a sudden vision of a solution so vast, so unexpected, yet so simple, so predicated on the basic laws of physics, that he wondered if Kafis, in the twin-brained complexity of his mind, would suspect such a blunt and obvious attempt.

But first he had to prove his theory.

And for that, he had to get Ira back on board.

Not for a second Smallmouth .

No, he had much bigger plans now.

She drove through the night, and what a night— the night, the one that would never end. The rain came down hard, blurring the windshield. She hunched over the steering wheel so strenuously that her shoulders ached. Hers was the only car on Route 64, and Georgia was still hundreds of miles away. She knew the mountains were coming soon, and was afraid to go into them because, what with all this rain and no grass or other plants holding anything in place, she was worried about washouts.

The emptiness of the highway frightened her. She and her children were targets because they had food in the car. She didn’t want to stop, was afraid to stop, but sensed Jake growing antsy in the back.

She looked ahead and saw a town. “What’d you say this town was?” she asked Hanna.

Hanna turned on the flashlight and looked at the map again. “Dunstan.”

“Jake, do you have to go for a pee?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, we’ll stop here.”

She eased her foot on the brake and pulled over to the shoulder. Jake got out, walked to the ditch, and peed. The air coming through the open door was damp, and it made her skin sticky.

Lightning flashed and she saw the outlines of the town, its downtown section like an overgrown prop for a train set, none of its lights burning, the buildings looking carved out of cardboard, lifeless, without any soul.

She glanced in her rearview mirror and saw headlights, and knew it was probably nothing, just another hapless traveler driving from nowhere to nowhere, but couldn’t help feeling paranoid, especially when they had food in the car and everybody was fighting for what little remained.

She leaned over the backseat. “Jake, honey, are you nearly done? There’s a car coming.”

Jake zipped up and got back in the vehicle. She put it in gear, hoping that the person behind wouldn’t see her parking lights. She wished there was some way to turn them off, but they stayed on all the time.