They were gone.
A flood of emotions arose as she considered the full implications of that. On the one hand she was relieved to see that the two men were not lying dead on the cold metal flooring of the corridor. The breaching sequence had worked—it had all worked—and the two men had vanished from the present Meridian into the ocean of time. Where they would emerge was anybody’s guess. They could be anywhere, though she hoped Kelly’s optimism might prove true. Now her mind returned to the error readings on the temporal vector display. The error had been numerically small. It might only be a matter of hours or days, which was the whole point of shading the temporal breaching point on the negative side of the event. Nothing could be done if they arrived too late. Early was always workable, she concluded.
Satisfied that there was nothing she could do here for the moment, she turned and headed back toward the elevator shaft, her mind still cluttered with thoughts of Kelly and the strange call from her mother. The digital clock on the elevator wall gave her a moment’s anxiety. It was nearly 3:00 AM!
Up in the control room she found Kelly hunched over his laptop, his finger tapping on a touch pad as he scrolled through a long series of numbers and formulae.
“Looking for footprints?” Maeve leaned on the back of his chair, and he gave her a tentative glance. She could see the guilt in his eyes, and the fear.
“They got through, didn’t they.”
“They went somewhere,” said Maeve. “I hope you’re going to tell me where in a second. What was the variance on the temporal readout?” She looked at Jen, but the young woman had an odd look on her face, not following what they were talking about.
“Mr. Ramer?” Jen hesitated to answer the question, prodding Kelly for help.
Kelly took a deep breath before he spoke again. “Well,” he began, “I found the error. Must have been typing fast when I entered the shading variables. I was trying to type a number sequence and I accidentally hit the shift key with my other hand.”
“And?” Maeve was waiting for the implications of Kelly’s confession.
Kelly looked at Jen for a moment, ready to come clean. “I triggered a macro I had programmed for my calculations and one of the numbers was interpreted as an exponential…”
Maeve just stared at him. “An exponential? Good God, what was the number?”
“A big one, relatively speaking.” Kelly rubbed at a trickle of perspiration on his forehead. “It raised the temporal locus variable by powers of ten instead of single integer increments. That means the readout on Jen’s board is actually reporting a much greater temporal shift than I first thought.”
“Powers of ten?” Maeve’s jaw dropped as her mind spawned a hundred fears from Kelly’s statement. It was not a matter of hours or days any longer. It was long years; decades; centuries. If they went back too far they could even run the risk of materializing under a primordial ocean! It was all too much for her, and she covered her eyes with her hand, not wanting to wrestle with the problem for a moment.
“But I have a plan,” Kelly offered. “Remember the loop command I sent through the system? I attached the pattern signatures of both Robert and Paul—you know, from the infusion data.”
“What? Kelly, the loop command was for a temporary suspension of the breaching cycle. You can’t loop the system after the infusion’s occurred!”
“Yes, under normal circumstances that would be right. But when I realized what was happening I had to do something. It was the only thing I could think of, short of simply cutting the mains and shutting the damn thing down. That probably would have killed them both in the Arch, so I ran the numbers and keyed a looping variable instead.”
“You ran the numbers? I was there, Kelly. You never went anywhere near the logarithmic generator.”
“Well… I did the calculation in my head…” The statement sounded feeble, but it was the truth and Kelly owned up to it, a bit flustered but determined. “I knew what I was trying to key for the variable, and I did the math in my head.”
“Without machine verification?” Maeve was staggered. “You mean you just took a random shot in the dark, right?”
“Well give me some credit. Look, I can’t talk about this now. I’ve got a twenty minute window and I need to make some adjustments on the chamber.”
“Adjustments? We’ve got to get them back, Kelly.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do—at least get them back on the correct coordinate.”
Maeve didn’t understand. “You planned for an emergency retraction, didn’t you?”
Jen heard the word and remembered her brief conversation with Dorland before he had left. “Doctor Dorland said something about—”
“Then do it, Kelly.” Maeve interrupted, her attention fully focused on Kelly. “As soon as possible! The world will just have to suffer for this. If you can get them back somehow…” She looked at the telephone that was still hanging limply over the edge of the desk by its cord and remembered her mother again. There was nothing she could do, and the tension and frustration of the moment welled as tears in her eyes as she spoke.
“Take it easy, Maeve.” Kelly was up, extending an arm to comfort her. “This is all my fault, but I have a plan. You’ll see.” He nodded to Jen, waving her away from the scene so he could talk with Maeve in private. “Why don’t you see about getting some tea for us all,” said Kelly. “Or better yet, I think Maeve has a bag of fresh Peets coffee we could brew. How about it, Jen?”
“Sure,” Jen helped Maeve to a chair, and Kelly noticed the dangling telephone. He walked over and hung the phone up, winking at Maeve as he did so.
“You’ll call her in the morning,” he said confidently. “Coffee, Jen. I have about fifteen minutes left to make this adjustment, and I don’t want any more mistakes.”
“Then everything is OK with Mr. Dorland and the Professor?”
“They’re fine,” said Kelly.
“I think I left the bag in the changing room with the costumes.” Maeve waved halfheartedly at the doorway.
“Right.” Jen ran off to fetch the coffee, leaving them alone for a moment.
“Trust me.” Kelly raised his eyebrows looking at Maeve. “I can do this,” he explained. “I was even sure I had the right number when I did the factor mentally. Just give me ten minutes here and I’ll have things straightened out again.”
“But how?” Maeve wanted to be convinced, but her mind could see no way out of the dilemma.
“It’s a theory I’ve been working on. I know it hasn’t been run through your committee yet, but let me explain. When the tachyon infusion floods the corridor we get a good signature on anyone inside and store it in the pattern buffers. I connected the buffers to the retraction module for situations just like this. I was trying to figure a way we could retract on command in an emergency instead of waiting for the half-life decay sequence. So… I entered a loop command during infusion, and got two signatures.”
He smiled, holding up two fingers to emphasize his point. “When the system rolls data in the pattern buffers through the retraction module I’ll have two chances to plan an operation. Normally the retraction sequence can only operate when the target time has been reached. We used the particle half-life scheme as a fail-safe at the end. If they go back too far to reach the target date, the half-life in the chamber expires and they get pulled out. But if I can plan an operation, and time it for a very specific point in the half-life decay sequence, there’s a chance to move them before the fail-safe kicks in at the end. With the loop method I can program a retraction sequence for every loop I enter. In this case I just divided the half-life duration by two and set a point for the first retraction opportunity. That gives me a chance to bring them home at the mid-point in the half life sequence… Or a chance to move them somewhere else.” He let that last bit hang, watching Maeve’s reaction carefully.