"Uh... Gotta get back to you on that," Murph hemmed. "See what the book says."
Kea could tell that good old team player Murph would like the bonus cut in the rank-share system. He could see those crafty old eyes in that disarming hail-fellow face buzz in calculation. Let's see, now, he'd be thinking... That way me and Fazlur split fifty percent... That'd be... Uh see... what's the biggest bonus the company ever put out?
"I don't gotta read the book, Murph," Vasoovan shrilled. "This is expedition rules, fella. Fazlur as team leader gets twenty. We all split the rest. Equals."
"Will you all just stop it," Fazlur stormed. "Who cares about the company bonus? Put it in a glass, swallow, and urinate."
"Say..." Murph said. "If you don't want any part of your bonus, we'll be glad to split up your share. Won't we, Vasoovan?"
"You got it, Murph."
Kea broke in. "Why don't you explain it to them, Fazlur?" This was the third time he'd taken the sweep through. And he'd watched over Fazlur's and Ruth's shoulders as they figured and refigured. He had a faint idea what Fazlur had discovered. But it was very faint.
Fazlur nodded. He turned his craggy, handsome face to its best profile. "It's as simple as this," he said. "We have just reached into another universe—and brought back evidence of its most basic material. This material—in our own universe—would become the source of unlimited power. A small flask of it, my friends, might supply all the wants and needs of a city and its inhabitants for a hundred years." Fazlur giggled. The giggle turned to laughter. The cabin was silent until he stopped. "So much for your damn bonus," he said.
The faint idea bloomed to understanding in Kea's head. Power... Fuel. Wars had been fought over it. Hundreds of thousands had died on oil fields. Power... Weapons. Hundreds of thousands more had died in the nuclear fires of the past. Power. Wealth. The greatest fortunes—and families—had been founded on its gold. He looked around the room at the others. Each in his or her own way understood. Even the lowliest grease monkey would have understood. You did not come to space... and stay... and not understand these things. Kea looked at Murph: Jock's face. Clown face. But somehow oddly solemn. Vasoovan: Pink features paler than he'd ever seen. Big predator's grin. Tentacle curling and uncurling. Ruth: Eyes alight. Red tongue-tip flicking out. And himself.
He wished he could see himself.
"Uh... Doc..." came Murph's voice. Throaty. "What do you call this... uh... stuff?"
"A good question, Murph," Fazlur said. Kea didn't blame him for sounding so pedantic. "It's the opposite of matter in our universe. But we can't call it anti-matter. Because we already have anti-matter in this universe. Perhaps we should express it in its simplest terms." He turned to Ruth. "Something commercial. Recognizable even to the ignorant. I find it always helps when I make my presentations to funding boards."
"Easy." She shrugged. "If it isn't anti-matter, exactly... then it's new anti-matter. Stress the newness, somehow."
"How about Anti-Matter Two?" Kea suggested.
"I like it," Ruth said. "Simple."
"Anti-Matter Two... Yes. That'll do. Very very well. The heading will get their attention." Fazlur was satisfied.
"What I like," Murph said, "is it fits real nice on the side of a building. AM2." He drew the symbols in the air: AM2.
"How sure are you about this, Doc?" Vasoovan twittered. "You got proof?"
Fazlur rose, turned from them, and looked up on the screen at the curtain of fire. "I'm sure. Very sure. And I have the proof. But it is not absolute. And in this, my friends, we must be absolute. Otherwise..." He turned back, the fire raining on the screen behind him. "There are those who would kill to control this. You must realize this."
Fazlur stared at them hard. One by one. He came to Kea. Richards thought of the Bargetas. The other great families—and fortunes. And the opportunity and threat they would see in AM2. The issue was control. The Haves against the Have Nots. The man was right. The Haves would attack with lawyers, writs—and assassins. Kea nodded. He knew. As did the others.
"If we want any rights—bound-in-steel guarantee rights—to our discovery," Fazlur said, "we must make that proof patenta-ble. A patent so strong that no one can question our rights."
"How do we get proof, Doc?" Murph asked.
Fazlur pointed at the screen. "We have to go in there to get it," he said. "And come back again."
Kea had never heard silence so thick. There was no argument. No heated questions: Can it be done?... Are you sure?... What if?... The struggle was within each of them. They all knew Fazlur would answer; Yes. I am. I don't know... I've never been there before. Kea swallowed. He looked at the screen. He saw the gentle fire rain, the billow and curl of space, as alluring as any woman he'd ever known.
He... Just... Had... To... See.
That line again: ‘The stuff dreams are made of."
Kea cleared his throat, startling the others to life.
"I think we should go," he said.
it was a place like the other.
but not familiar.
it was...
not.
i don't like it.
why?
i don't know.
is it colder?
no. but i'm... cold.
is it darker?
no. but i can't... see.
what's wrong, then?
i'm...
lost.
A juddering into normalcy. They all looked at each other, dazed. Ruth's hand crept toward Kea's. Fazlur saw it An odd light came to his eye. Then the screen caught his attention. "We're on the other side," he said quietly.
Kea looked up. The remotes were panning along the rear of the ship. The curtain of fire was behind them.
Destiny I was through.
"Reckoning by the discontinuity," Murph said. Voice crisp and professional. "On time-tick..."
Vasoovan's twitter was modulated: "Check. Coordinates... x350... Proceeding..."
"Half power..." Kea broke in. "Drive steady. All functions normal."
"Readings... positive on the port sensors, Doctor," Ruth said. Calm.
"Course starboard nine now... Thank you, Ruth. A little less on the data stream, please... There you go."
Fazlur's fingers flew across his key unit, monitoring the incoming data. He nodded. Yes. Yes. And yes. Then he keyed out. "I think we can go home now, Captain," he said. Formal.
Murph nodded to him. Stiff. "Thank you, Doctor." Then; "Vasoovan. Set the course for XO... We're going home."
It came as a spot on the screen that blazed the colors/no colors of this strange universe.
An infinitesminal spot.
"Murph! Eleven o'clock!"
"What the crap is it?"
"Dunno. Pint-sized moon, maybe."
"Don't look too close."
"Naw. Not real close. But maybe we oughta—"
Two bodies approached in space. Composed of mass. Potential of that mass. And gravitational displacement.
But one was the stuff of one reality.
One another.
Opposites attract.
What do double opposites do?
The explosion took Destiny I midships, cutting it like a shark ripping into fat-bellied tuna.
Fifteen died.
Five survived.
The gods of this place were kind to the fifteen.
Kea came awake. It was dark and bloody. Acrid.
There was no pain.
Numbness.
He heard voices.
"All dead." A wail.
"There's us, Murph! There's us. We're alive."
Me too, Kea wanted to say. I'm alive, too.
Not even a groan escaped.
"What'll we do? Oh, God, what'll we do."