August 4, 2006

The next morning Bill awoke in his apartment with a broad smile on his face. Last night had been one of the best of his life. Sheila had been a brilliant conversationalist. They had talked until the wee hours of the morning. He had accompanied her back to the house where they chatted some more. They had made plans for the future. For now they would concentrate on their secret project so that all their energy would go towards its completion. Afterwards they would start a life together. With the celebrity and funding that would surely come from bringing back the dinosaurs, they would have all the opportunities to do the research that they both wanted. Their common goal was to make earth a better place to live in.

Bill slowly showered and dressed. He met Sheila in a park near the Institute of Advance Physics. They hugged tenderly. Sven was already at work to finalize the details with Dr. Hillzinger. Sheila escorted Bill through a service entrance. They arrived at her laboratory undetected. They were met at the door by Rudder Rudigast. Technicians were busy working around the large time capsule.

It looked like a giant cylinder with rounded ends resting on a gigantic pancake. It always reminded Bill of a colossal fried egg with a cylindrical yolk. The test pilot said.

“Dr. Blomquist is waiting for you in the office with Dr. Hillzinger. They have some good news for you.”

Sheila turned toward Bill. She said. “It is nice to have good news for a change.” She led Bill to her office’s door.

Behind the glass partition Bill could see the tall Swede discussing emphatically with a short grey haired man. He presumed that the older man was Dr. Hillzinger. Sheila confirmed his suspicion. When she entered the room, she turned toward the man and said.

“Good morning Dr. Hillzinger. It is nice to see you. I hear that you have good news for us.”

The man answered in a raspy voice, the result of a lifetime of too much good living.

“I have located the ideal black hole to deviate your asteroid. With a few more hours of computations, I will have the exact coordinates for the transfer and interaction. My containment equipment should be installed in your time capsule within two days. Now the only thing that I need from you is the rigorous location, in time, of the inter-action, so that we get the results that you want of it.”

Sven put his arm around Bill’s shoulders and brought him in front of a large wall terminal. He punched a few buttons on the control unit and said.

“This is the theoretical results of the asteroid’s interaction with earth, after a close miss. We will have to decide what ecological consequences would best serve our goals. I suggest that we do not create too drastic a change to preserve as much of the habitat as possible, on a large enough scale, to be effective.”

The two men worked for several days on their theoretical model. They finally agreed on the parameters needed to preserve part of the Late Cretaceous ecosystems and end up without too much drastic changes in the modern ones. From these parameters they calculated the precise timing of the interaction with the asteroid. The experiment was scheduled for the following week. In the meantime they would examine all the data and scrutinize the equipment.

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From 1990: A Time Conundrum

The Sass

August 2, 2006

Later that afternoon, Bill was pacing the floors of his apartment. He was impatient to know what Sheila wanted to tell him. He already had changed clothes four times in anticipation of the meeting. He had finally selected a comfortable sport suit that fitted his body better than what he usually wore. It actually flattered his silhouette.

When the time had come to leave for his appointment, he felt uneasy. He doubted that Sheila wanted to meet him for himself. She must have a business proposition for him.

He entered the travel link at his apartment and programmed it to reach the posh section of town where she lived. As the small private capsule sped soundlessly, Bill nervously twiddled his fingers. He felt as if he was a teen-ager going on his first date. He new that he did not have any reason to feel nervous, but knowing this did not help the sensation.

Soon the scenery changed from the endless agglomeration of massive residential buildings where he lived, to a scattering of luxurious residences on the side of a knoll overlooking the sprawling extent of the city. The dazzling array of emerging lights starting to battle the dusk, fascinated Bill. The thought of millions of people living so close together always unsettled him. Though he did live in a apartment complex where upwards of twenty thousand people lived, he barely new any of them and felt strangely isolated, when he was not consciously thinking about it.

Bill’s daydreaming was interrupted by the slowing down of the capsule. He had finally reached his destina-tion. Sheila’s house was of modest size and stood in the middle of a small but impeccably maintained garden. The house’s lights gave it a cheerful look. When the capsule stopped on the small landing pad, Bill exited with a purpose in his walk. He had finally decided to ask Sheila out, whether this was a business meeting or not.

He walked the narrow path to the front door. He rang the old fashioned brass bell. His new found confidence was quickly shattered when a tall, handsome, blond man answered the ring. He said in a thick Swedish accent.

“Dear Dr. Livingston, Sheila and I where waiting for you. Please come in.”

In a quivering low voice, echoing his hurt spirit, Bill answered. “Thank you. Are you not Dr. Sven Blomquist, formerly of the EEC’s ecological council?”

“Yes, I am. Please call me Sven. May I call you Bill?”

“Please do.”

The tall Swede took Bill by the shoulder and dragged him towards the living room. Bill finally noticed the cheerful surroundings. Sheila’s house was brightly decorated, in keeping with her sunny disposition. When they en-tered the room, Sheila greeted him with a warm embrace. Bill’s heart started pounding at her sudden closeness. She was dressed in a loose fitting, silk blouse and a pair of tight jeans that enhanced her figure. With a smile on her face she said.

“I am so glad to see you. You look as if the events of this afternoon have not affected you too much. May I introduce you to a good friend of the family, Sven Blomquist?”

The lanky Swede said liltingly.

“We have already introduced ourselves. I am familiar with Bill’s work. I hope that he is familiar with mine.”

Bill hesitantly answered. “Did you not do some work in radical ecosystem management leading to the sal-vaging of many important species?”

Sven laughed. “It also led to my dismissal from the EEC council, because my method were not traditional enough. But let’s not talk of the past. I am tired of dealing with politicians, as, I am sure, you are. I have an inter-esting proposition for you that will make all the politicians take notice our cause and ultimately allocate the budgets that we deserve.” He smiled broadly and continued. “Remember that at the end of the Secondary period, about sev-enty million years ago, the dominant species disappeared from this planet almost overnight, in geological terms.

The most common theory, as you well know, is that a large asteroid collided with earth and the ensuing clouds and darkness caused the extinction of the most dominant species of the period. With the help of Sheila’s equipment we have confirmed the veracity of the theory and the actual date of the asteroid’s collision.”

Bill was astounded. His mind was racing ahead of the scientist’s words. He interrupted Sven and said. “Are you trying to say that based on my experimental work with the whales and your work on ecosystem management, your are planning to bring back and resurrect one of the ancient giant sauropod? This should get the politicians to take notice.”

“This, as you say, would get the entire world’s attention. But I want to go one step further by extrapolating on our joint research. I actually want to prevent the extinction of the dinosaurs by intercepting the asteroid before its impact with this planet. Sheila has a friend that is an expert in electromagnetic containment of black holes. The im-pact of one such black hole with the asteroid, at a great distance from earth would be enough to deviate the asteroid and prevent the impact. There would still be some radical changes in the ecosystems but I think that the species would have enough resiliencies to adapt. Thus we would have some of the dinosaurs surviving to this date. What do you think of my plan?”

Bill sat in silence for a long time. To bring back an extinct species was one thing, but to actually prevent their extinction opened some incredible possibilities that he had not even thought of. He slowly shook his head and said in a solemn voice.

“Since I do not have a regular job anymore I would be glad to join you in your work. If the world parliament does not take notice after this, there is no hope for mankind. Everybody should see that man should do its utmost to preserve any living organism’s place on our world. It is our ultimate duty.”

“I am glad that you see my ways. We shall start the final phase of our work, in complete secret, tomorrow. Sheila has agreed to sneak us up to her lab. I now have to leave you for a meeting with Dr. Hillzinger. We will dis-cuss his containment system. I think he also has found a black hole that we can use in the period and vicinity where we want to intercept the asteroid. I bid you farewell and will see you both in the morning.”

The tall Swede shook Bill’s and Sheila’s hands. He showed himself to the door. Bill’s mind was so preoccu-pied by the work ahead, that it took him a short time to realize that he was still standing in Sheila’s living room and that she was looking at him with anticipation. He nervously coughed. He said in a quivering voice.

“Have you known Sven for a long time?”

“We go way back. We both studied in France. We have been good friends ever since. His father was an as-sociate of my dad. But enough about him. How are you doing?”

“Well…, I have a new found purpose for my life’s works that I hope to share with those dear to me.”

“Who might they be?”

Bill blushed at her directness. He reached deep inside himself for courage. He took both her hands in his own and said. “I do not know who they might all be, but I know for sure that you are one of them.”

It was Sheila’s turn to blush. She had not expected him to answer her question. Loosing his job might have been the most beneficial think that ever happened to him. He already looked more confident and outspoken. She took him in her arms and kissed him deeply before he could move away from her.

For once in his life Bill did not shy from her proximity. He returned her embrace with vigour. After what seemed like a long time they pulled apart breathlessly. They both felt dizzy from their new intimacy. She pulled him by the arm and said.

“Let’s go out for a bite to eat. I am famished. We will be able to discuss our joint life projects.” She coyly winked at him at the last words.

Bill, for a change, did not feel embarrassed. He followed her out of the house the happiest and luckiest man in the world.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

From 1990: A Time Conundrum

The Sass

July 31, 2006

The rapid transit capsule sped through the grounds of the Institute. A procession of microhabitats was observed by the two scientists. Both were very proud of the work that the Institute had done to restore the environment. Greg turned toward his boss and said.

“Do you think that Dr. Osbourne has good news for us? I doubt that we can maintain our funding. Especial-ly with that old fuss-budget of Plucket around. A lot more interest in time travel is shown by other branches of the World Scientific Commission. I don’t understand how they could have appointed somebody who does not like to save species, as the head of the world’s largest ecological organisation.”

“You know politicians, they always want one of their own in power. It is much easier to control us that way.”

“Why can’t nobody see that we have only the good of this world as our goal?”

“Amen.”

Both men looked at the rapidly growing buildings ahead of them. They were approaching the Institute for Advanced Physics, a massive complex of large concrete structures studded by a jungle of antennae, dishes, stacks, power feeds and collectors. Their capsule smoothly slowed down and entered the administration building. They were greeted by Phil Redbird, one of Dr. Osbourne’s lab technicians.

“Good morning, gentlemen.” The large Amerindian said. “Dr. Osbourne instructed me to meet you and es-cort you to the conference room personally.”

“Hello Phil. How is the good Doctor?”

“The good Doctor is doing fine, Dr. Livingston. Even though Mr. Plucket is in a rotten mood, as usual. He never likes to part with any of his precious budget. Especially if it is going to a competing Institute.”

Bill turned toward Greg. He said. “You were right. Old fuss-budget is here and there is trouble.”

Greg silently shrugged his shoulders. They silently followed Phil to the conference room. All three were admitted by an efficient looking secretary. The young man lead them to their seat and quietly exited the room. Bill looked around the room.

Behind the long conference table, a holowall displayed the likeness of an antique super-collider. The other walls were a grim institutional green. He observed the people seated around the table. He grudgingly acknowledged the presence of the elegantly dressed Robert F. Plucket. With all the bad feelings between the two men, Bill had to agree that Plucket cut a dashing figure. The highly intelligent man, Harvard educated, from a wealthy society family did not look his fifty plus years and was the most eligible bachelor on the West coast. No wonder a gangling bachelor like himself resented the man so much.

Next to Plucket, was seated Alfred “Rudder” Rudigast and his first officer Gina Lesage. The congenial man was the time capsule’s test pilot. Bill waved his hand in his direction and said.

“Hi Rudder…, how’s the wife and kids?”

“Very good, Bill. Amanda is still upset about you missing her birthday dinner, I hope you will be able to join us soon. How about this coming Saturday?”

“This sounds fine. I will be there at 8 o’clock.”

After this exchange of pleasantries, Bill noticed that Dr. Osbourne was staring directly at him. Bill blushed immediately. Sheila Osbourne was a stunning redhead in her mid-thirties, with all the right curves in the right places. Bill had a crush on her since the first time they had met, six months ago, to coordinate the “whale” project. Before he had met her, he never had been tongue tied in front any woman. His sudden shyness made him the butt of many jokes around the office.

The young woman’s face brightened when she noticed his embarrassment. She said to him in a sultry voice.

“Good morning Dr. Livingston. I am very glad to see you.” She emphasized the last word and noticed that it had the anticipated effect. Bill blushed even more. She liked the tall boyish man very much, but she was waiting for him to make his own move. She had been hurt before and did not want to speculate about his real feelings toward her. She doubted that he knew about them himself. She did not want to rush him too much for fear of loosing him.

At the other end of the table Robert Plucket cleared his throat. He said in his elegant voice.

“I am glad that all of you are present. The decision about further projects utilizing Dr. Osbourne’s time travel technology, in conjunction with the Women’s Institute as been taken by the World Parliament’s Commission on Scientific Research. No further funds will be allocated, as the resurrection of extinct species is not a priority goal when there are many species that still need to be protected from extinction in the present time. This decision is fi-nal.”

A long silence greeted this statement. The assembled scientists looked at each others still stunned by the news. Suddenly Bill Livingston’s face reddened in anger. He stood up straight unraveling his long, thin body. He looked straight into Bob Plucket’s eyes and said, barely controlling his rage.

“You never wanted to give us a chance. Most species on the verge of extinction can be easily saved by our method, often at a lesser cost than by traditional ones. I demand that the Institute reconsider its position. If not, I will be forced to resign from by post.”

Robert Plucket calmly stood up and took his briefcase from the floor beside him. While still looking straight into Bill’s eyes, he said in a monotone voice.

“Then I accept your verbal resignation. Please vacate your office and leave your cardkey at the front desk by next Monday. Your last wages will be credited to your account.” He briefly looked around the room and continued. “This will be all.”

The distinguished man exited silently from the room while the group of scientists assembled around a flab-bergasted Bill. They all wanted to comfort him.

Bill was too stunned to realize that he had just destroyed his career with his sudden outburst. He did not even hear the rumble of the voices from the people trying to soothe him. He finally came back to reality and looked around him in astonishment. With his voice still shaking from his anger, he said.

“Don’t worry, I was planning to quit anyway. I never could work for that man. Now, I will be able to ac-complish my lifetime goal. With my severance pay I will be able to buy myself a motorsailer and travel around the world.”

Grabbing him by the elbow, Greg dragged him away from the group. He said in a hushed tone.

“Don’t worry, I will help you to get your job back. When you calm down, you should go and see Plucket. I am sure he will agree to take you back. I will tell him a good word on your behalf in the meantime.”

“I will be fine. I need a rest anyway. I have not taken a holiday in over seven years. I will go home now.”

As he was walking towards the conference room’s door, Bill was accosted by Sheila. She put her hand on his arm and gently squeezed it. She timidly smiled. She leaned forward toward him. She stood on tiptoes to whisper in his ear. In the process her breasts brushed his upper arm. Bill felt embarrassed by her closeness. She said breathlessly.

“Dear Bill, I feel sorry for you. Please meet me at home after work, tonight. I have a proposition for you. I hope that you will consider it. Here is my address.”

She slipped a hastily folded piece of paper into his hand. She kissed him lightly on the cheek and left the room holding back some tears with difficulty. Bill looked at her leave with a new fondness in his heart. He said goodbye to the group and left the room whistling softly.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

From 1990: A Time Conundrum

The Sass

July 29, 2006

Bill Livingston was a happy man. He had just successfully supervised a massive project that resuscitated the extinct humpback whales species. He had dealt with the constant interference and opposition of Bob Plucket the head of WOMEN (World Organisation for the Management of Ecological Niches). That man and the mostly conservative elements that ruled the ecological group -which was a joint effort of the EEC (European Economic Community), UAO (United Americas and Oceania), MESA (Middle-Eastern States Association), FEEC (Far-Eastern Economic Community), and the OAC (Organisation of African Countries) under the jurisdiction of the World Parliament- had tried to deny the massive funds that permitted the use of new time travel technology to go back about forty years and capture two breeding pairs of humpbacks.

On this beautiful early spring day, Bill did not worry too much about past problems. He concentrated on the future. With the new technology available to him, he would be able to reconstruct much of the ecological niches and species that were destroyed in the last hundred years. Before a more enlightened political climate permitted saving the environment on a more global scale.

He just wished that scientists, like himself, would not suffer the constant interference of politicians like Plucket who did not understand that every species and microhabitat had the right to be saved. They always argued that if all species were saved there would be no mechanism by which evolution could work to adapt species to new environments. They could not envision his conception of a perfect balance between Man and nature.

As Bill was ruminating, his eyes slowly took in the glorious scenery that unfolded behind the thick glass of his office’s window. The early morning sun created some long shadows on the WOMEN’s Institute grounds. Far away over the horizon, the glitter of the sun reflecting on the landlocked sea, where they were breeding the whales, caught his attention. It reminded him of his youth in New England, where his grandfather taught him to sail, in the old fashion way, aboard his motorsailer. During those months spent at sea, his interest for the conservation of the marine habitat grew to the point of determining his future path. Now as head of Marine Ecology for the WOMEN’s Institute he could fulfill his lifetime goal of restoring the world to its previous glory. More species would be saved and the world would be better for it.

The chimes of the comlink, on his desk, interrupted his train of thoughts. The basso voice of Greg Fleming, his second in command, erupted anxiously when he acknowledged the transmission.

“Bill…! If you are coming to the meeting with Dr. Osbourne, you’re already late. I will wait for you in my office for five more minutes. If you are not here by then, I will go alone.”

“Don’t worry Greg I will be there. I only have to put on a tie and comb my hair.”

“Are you still trying to impress the good doctor?”

Ignoring the question Bill replied. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

He unfolded his lanky frame from his easy chair and fetched a necktie from his locker. While he was tying his knot he gazed at his image reflected in the mirror. His mop of unruly red hair looked like an abandoned field in need of mowing. His wide set eyes and narrow mouth made his face look unbalanced. His rumpled brown, baggy suit hung on his shoulders like a coat on a hanger. Although he was in his mid-forties he looked at least twenty years younger, a family trait. His mother was in her early seventies but did not look much older than fifty.

With a mischievous grin on his face he passed, with great difficulty, a comb through his hair. The end result was not evident. Bill exited his office and locked the door behind himself. He took the long glass passageway that would take him to the adjacent building across a catwalk hanging fifty stories high, over the Institute’s grounds. He always suffered from a touch of vertigo when he used the narrow walkway. Today was no different.

He soon reached Greg’s office, where the small-statured man was impatiently pacing the floor. He always reminded Bill of a miniature version of a traditional banker, dressed in his neat blue pinstripe suit. His deep voice contrasted sharply with his four foot ten height. People meeting him for the first time, always had to suppress their laughter when they heard him talk. As usual, when he was under pressure, Greg was in a bad mood. He gruffly mumbled under his breath.

“Here we are, late again for an important meeting. This man is the oldest teenager that I have ever known. He his totally unreliable.” As if not noticing Bill entering the room, he continued. “He might be my boss but he has no reasons to make me look bad in front of others.”

“Don’t worry…” Bill said. “…Dr. Osbourne will not be mad at you. A specialist in time travel will not mind a little lost time. We can always get it back later if we need it.”

Greg gave a murderous look to his boss and followed him to the elevator. The two men entered the glass cubicle and the pneumatic system quickly whisked them deep underground. They each stood silently looking at the scenery during the short trip. Bill was used to his friend’s outbursts. He knew very well that everything would be back to normal in a few minutes.

They were greeted by the joyful voice of Marjorie, the building’s transportation dispatcher.

“Drs. Fleming and Livingston where may I have the pleasure to transport you.”

Before Bill could reply with one of his usual puns, Greg said rapidly. “We are in a hurry. We had to be at the Institute for Advanced Physics, ten minutes ago.”

The young woman replied. “You can take capsule number four. It has just been overhauled, it will get you there the quickest. Dr. Livingston…, I presume that you are the one that is late, as usual. You should stop daydreaming. A man in your position should not waste his time like that. ”

Grabbing his confrere by the sleeve, Greg dragged him to the waiting capsule before Bill could reply. He shouted over his shoulder, his voice making the windows tremble.

“That is what I always tell him. But this big kid does not want to listen to me. I am so misunderstood.”

Marjorie looked on, as the two men entered the capsule. When the door closed and the capsule silently sped away, she shook her head and a smile crossed her face. There went two of the most respected scientists at the Institute, and they were always acting like Mutt and Jeff.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

From 1990: A Time Conundrum

The Sass

July 18, 2006

It is night and I am alone sitting on a rock surrounded by water. The moon is big, full, shiny and lights the world around me with an unreal aura of serenity. The air is warm and slightly moist; the only sound heard is when I take a breath full of this warm balmy air. I am alone and proud of being here, I am man in communion with nature. I close my eyes and listen to the silence of the night. Far, far away I hear a wolf calling, he is there and I am here. I try to reach to him and find his purpose; he too is the master of the night. I open my eyes and look to the sky. The Milky Way looks as if someone had shaken in a long arcing motion, a paintbrush laden with milk at a black velvet ceiling. I hear the flutter of a bat passing behind me, endlessly searching for whatever a bat searches in the night. I close my eyes, again, trying to get in touch with myself. As my thoughts drift in the night, time passes by in a flash. The air feels warmer and damp when I come back to reality. I open my eyes. It is still dark, but I can catch a glimpse of shimmering orange light on the eastern horizon. Before long, wispy tendrils of fog rises form the calm surface of the water and mate together to form big banks of cottony softness. I am alone with a sleeping nature awaiting its arousal to consciousness. I can feel the dampness of the fog entering my lungs, and can taste its sweet aroma. I pick up the faint sound of a beaver swimming to its daily chores. Finally nature starts to wake up. As if it is a signal the blood curling laughter of an Oldsquaw is heard. From that moment on, nature’s awakening speeds up languorously like someone stretching to activate its circulation. First the enchanting songs of small birds, closely followed by the patter and chatter of squirrels running in the trees. I am surrounded by a universe of pearly white fog, boxed-in with my thoughts. The temperature is slowly rising, as are my hopes for a glorious day. The sun is illuminating the fog from above, and humidity starts to rise from the surface of the water surrounding me. It is warm and comfortable. The fog as a life of its own and shines with an incandescent whiteness as it slowly starts to rise above the surface of the water. I feel like I am flying down through a big white cloud on the wings of my imagination. I am coming back to reality as the first beautiful, bright, yellow, hot sunray hits me square in the face. I drink in its energy like a thirsty man in a desert drinks water after reaching an oasis. I am now confident in life, I am alone and happy in communion with nature. I want to shout at the top of my lungs that I am Primeval Man, the King of the Creation. I am full of energy and feel that I could reach to the sun with my hands.

Suddenly the illusion is shattered; I hear a dog barking and a voice. I am not alone. I have to go back to a world where you have to be what people want you to be, instead of what you really are. Why? I was alone and King of the Creation, now I am just an ordinary man!

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From: May 7, 1980

The Sass