Jack McDevitt - Variables

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JACK McDEVITT

VARIABLES

Big Al was very good at his chosen line of work. He provided protection to small

businessmen, created gambling opportunities, and was respected for his many

services as peacemaker among the Chicago families. The latter activity had got

him indirectly involved in various money laundering activities, and that in turn

had got the feds interested. Nevertheless he was cautious and would probably

have continued to prosper for years had Tony Bullets not cut a deal and traded

him in. Tony went into protective custody, and Big Al headed for open country.

He had planned originally to retire to a little place in Oregon that nobody knew

about. But a Nova special caught his attention, and two days later he arrived

with two associates at the Orin Randall Physics Laboratories outside

Minneapolis.

Big AI did not like to show hardware. The practice was heavy-handed and lacking

in taste. In the social circles through which he customarily moved, it was

rarely necessary. Enlightened people generally understood a tightening of the

jaws or a sudden silence. Significant communication is always implied.

But among those not sensitive to the diplomatic niceties, it is sometimes

necessary to be more direct. AI knew instinctively that nonverbal communication

would not work with the people at Randall. The receptionist blinked at him as if

he were looking for a handout, told him Dr. Seabright was busy, and did not

respond in a positive manner until Henny explained that he hoped he wouldn't be

forced to shoot her. She responded by leading them into a lab where a man and a

woman stood in front of a bank of computer screens. Both turned and stared.

The receptionist mumbled a frightened apology.

Big Al took an instant dislike to Archie Seabright. He could see immediately

that the man was not polished. He was nondescript, much like Rat Silvana if you

could imagine Rat in bifocals and a white lab coat. He wore a lot of pens in his

breast pocket, he tended to look over the tops of his bifocals, and his hair was

going fast. Dunk took his cue and showed him a piece. Seabright's mouth opened

and closed. Henny brought in the luggage and locked the door.

"What is this?" demanded Seabright in a voice that had a lot of squeak. "Please

get out. The general public is not allowed in here."

It always amazed Al that certain types of persons will go out of their way to

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annoy an armed man.

The woman who was standing beside him laid a hand on his arm, cautioning him.

She had black hair and good features and she was trying not to look scared.

"Lady," Al said, "what is your name?"

She looked steadily back at Al. A good babe. "Janet Keel," she said.

"Okay, Janet Keel. Nobody has anything to be afraid of. We are only here to

conduct a little business, and then we will be leaving."

The lab was a long whitewashed room ringed with desks piled high with printouts

and binders and magazines. Posters with illustrations of atomic cross sections

and occluding gases and other abstractions covered the walls. There was a vague

noxious smell, as if a fire had just gone out.

The device that AI had seen on Nova occupied the center of the room. It looked

like a ten-foot-high bell jar made of steel struts, cable, wire netting, plastic

and glass. It was raised on a low platform and open in front. A table, crowded

with computers and electronic gear, wrapped around the other three sides.

"Just relax, Doc," Al said, switching his attention back to Seabright. "I have a

proposition for you."

Seabright's eyes had locked on the gun. "You don't need that."

Dunk caught Al's glance and put the weapon away. Seabright started breathing

again. "The boys and I have a problem," Al said. "There are certain parties

about fifteen minutes behind us, and we don't want to be here when they show up.

It is in fact essential that we move out of their jurisdiction." He took a long

satisfied look at the bell jar. "Tell me about this thing." A signal passed

between Seabright and the woman, by which AI grasped that their relationship was

more than merely professional. His respect for her declined.

"I don't know what you mean," Seabright said.

"Doc, we are not going to get anywhere with that attitude. The boys and I would

like to use this little exit that you have. If I understood you correctly on TV

the other night, we can clear out of here and go to another Chicago, right? One

that's like ours, but isn't quite the same."

Seabright's jaw tightened. "Not to Chicago. Minneapolis, maybe. But not

Chicago."

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"Why not? If you can do the one, why not the other? What's the difference?"

Seabright started to push his hands into his pockets, saw Dunk's piece appear

again, and changed his mind. "The Tunnel opens onto this exact spot. No matter

which terminal universe we look at, it's always here. Of course, most of the

time, here is only empty space."

"Why is that, Doc?"

"Because in the vast majority of cosmic sequences, there is no definable

structure of any kind. Just a few gases."

"Oh."

"Where there are worlds, there is rarely an Earth. But the point is, Randall

Labs is located on a couple of hills outside Minneapolis. That's the only place

we can send you. At least, the only place where you'll be happy."

Al ignored the attempt at sarcasm. "Let's get to it. Get me a place that's a lot

like this one, Doc, and we'll make it worth your while." He fished out a roll of

hundreds about six inches thick, showed it to him, and laid it on a chair.

"It's not a good idea."

"Turn it on, Doc."

Seabright bent over the wraparound table and toggled a couple of switches. Lamps

began to blink. Janet sat down at a keyboard. "You have to understand, Mr. -- ?"

"His name's Big Al" said Henny. He had wandered over close to the window, where

he could watch the parking lot. Dunk stood behind Janet.

"You have to understand, Big Al, it's unrested. We've never sent anyone through

it. I don't know what might happen. You could be killed."

"Don't worry, Doc. We'll take our chances."

"No. If something goes wrong, God knows what might happen to the project."

"Doc, I could shoot you now and let Janet try. Whatever you want." Dunk began

screwing a silencer ostentatiously onto his muzzle.

"It would have been easier," Seabright said, "if you'd given me advance notice."

"Yeah. Well, unfortunately, the feds didn't call me for an appointment, either."

Al glanced at Henny. Henny shook his head no. Nothing yet. "If I understood you

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