“Check out the Bunsens,” Paul said, keeping his eye on the telltale piece.
“They’re almost out.”
Paul lowered the assembly, and the light dimmed, the Bunsen flames grew.
Frik stared at it. “That’s doing it?”
Paul nodded.
“What is it? Some sort of rheostat?”
“Can’t really call it that—I’ve never seen it dim the lights, only brighten them. I don’t have the equipment to measure how much faster the fan goes.”
“But the Bunsens—”
“The Bunsens burn sixty degrees cooler. And did you feel the air temperature drop? That was a full ten degrees. Your skin temperature drops as well. Only the device doesn’t change temperature. It appears to be impervious to cold and heat.”
Frik looked shaken. He turned, found one of the stools, and eased himself onto it.
“Christ, Paul…what is it?”
Paul couldn’t maintain his scientist poker face any longer. He burst into a grin. “I don’t know, but isn’t it great?” He heard an edge of hysterical laughter creep into his voice. “Isn’t it fantastic?”
“That it is, but—”
“You think you’ve just seen weird?” Paul was pleased with himself for having saved the best for last. “Get behind me here and watch.”
Frik stood and positioned himself as directed, his hand on Paul’s shoulder.
“Keep your eye on the big figure-eight piece while I move this around.”
He angled the assembly this way and that, slowly, methodically, until…the outer edge of the telltale piece began to blur.
He felt Frik’s hand tighten on his shoulder. “What—?”
“Wait.”
Paul rotated it a little further and half of the outer loop appeared to dissolve. The chill…the flaring lights…He raised his free hand and passed his index finger through the empty space where the loop had been. Nothing there but air.
“Christ, Paul!” Frik’s grip was painful now.
Paul rotated it back and the loop became whole again. The lights dimmed.
Frik released him and leaned back against the counter, staring at the assembly. His face was ashen under the tan.
“D’you mind telling me what’s going on?”
“I don’t know.” Paul’s excitement bubbled through him. He felt like a shaken champagne bottle, ready to uncork. “The edge of that piece doesn’t just disappear. It’s not an optical illusion—it’snot there . It goes away.”
“Goes where?”
“I don’t know. But it goes somewhereelse, and when it reaches that somewhere else, the room gets cold and anything using electricity within a dozen feet revs into overdrive.”
“A dozen feet?”
“Give or take a few inches. I spent half the night testing its range, and a dozen feet is about its limit. Do you have any idea what this means, Frik? This little artifact is going to rewrite the laws of physics. Not only does it promise free energy, I’m willing to bet it taps into another dimension!”
“Free energy?” Frik said, still pale. “No such thing as free energy. No such thing as freeanything . As for other dimensions—”
“All right, maybe not another dimension, but it goes somewhere, and another dimension is as good a hypothesis as any for now.”
“A dozen feet is a pretty limited area.”
“Doesn’t matter if it’s three feet, this is a whole new energy source, utterly revolutionary. And there’s one more thing you should know.”
Frik looked at him bleakly. “I don’t know if I can handle another revelation right now. But go ahead.”
Why isn’t he excited? Paul wondered. He should be dancing around. This is the find of the century—of the millennium!
Paul held up the assembly. “I don’t think this is all of it. It looks like there’s a piece missing.” He pointed to a pair of sockets opposite the figure-eight piece. “Somewhere down in that area of ocean floor you sampled is a fifth piece that fits here.”
“What do you think it will do?”
“I don’t know. Maybe act as an amplifier that will extend its range. Maybe something even more mind-blowing.”
Frik looked away and said nothing. Paul let the silence hang, waiting for his boss to announce the obvious next step: a search for the missing piece.
“Question,” Frik said. “Where did that thing come from?”
The question flustered Paul. “From the core sample that you—”
“No. I mean, who made it? That thing was buried in underwater shale. In pieces. Who buried it there? When? And why?”
“I don’t know.”
Good questions. Paul had been so taken with the artifact’s astounding properties, so focused on the impact it would have on the world scientific community when it was made public—he’d gone so far as to picture himself on a dais, the focal point of a thousand cameras, demonstrating the artifact—that he hadn’t asked the next question.
“What about your Trini brothers’ belief that it’s Obeah?”
Paul shook his head. “I don’t think this was made by some primitive shaman. I’m not even sure it was made on this planet.”
“Then where? By whom? Don’t you think we ought to know?” Frik said, eyeing him intensely.
“We can leave that up to others.” He waved away the concern like an errant mosquito. “When we go public with this, there’ll be experts from every discipline—”
“Public?” Frik said, straightening away from the bench. “I don’t think so. Not till we know more.”