Another short story for your enjoyment…
[Note from Steve: The first two sections of this story are based on real events. The rest is, of course, speculative fiction: sometimes brain drain is more than the Third World’s loss. Enjoy.]
The Universal Language
Copyright 2015, Steven M. Moore
Max Gorman accepted refreshments from his graduate student with a smile. She asked if he needed anything else, he said no, and so she went to mingle with the other PhD hopefuls.
“She hasn’t picked a thesis topic yet,” he said to the chairperson after a bite of stale cookie and sip of weak coffee. “She’s interested in everything.”
“You’re interested in everything,” said the chairperson. “What do you think of the candidate so far?”
Max glanced at the man who was going to end his interview day by presenting at the last weekly seminar of the spring semester.
“Nervous hands, and the red pants are a distraction. He seems affable enough, but not as strong as some of the others. But my opinion doesn’t matter anymore, so don’t make conversation by asking for it.”
The chairperson smiled. Their professor emeritus was the most intelligent person he’d ever known. He was also old school, a mathematician who had contributed to many subfields of mathematics.
“Want me to wheel you in? I need to chat with our candidate a bit before the seminar starts. You can join us.”
Max took the cup of coffee out of the holder in the arm of his wheelchair and handed it and the remains of the cookie to the tall man who had been his best student.
“Get rid of this swill and hockey puck and I’m your man.”
***
The chairperson noted that Max was dozing during the seminar. The candidate was presenting the definition of a new class of Banach space operators and drawing all sorts of interesting conclusions about their properties. When he finished forty minutes later, he asked for questions. Max raised his head and lifted his hand.
“Can you give me an example of such an operator?” he said.
That started a lively discussion. The definition seemed so reasonable, but several examples didn’t pan out. Max seemed to enjoy listening to this. Finally, he cleared his throat and silence pervaded the conference room.
“I will offer a proof that your new set of operators doesn’t exist.” He wheeled his chair next to the overhead projector and began his argument. It was a simple reductio ad absurdum.
They didn’t make an offer to that candidate.
***
“Do you have all your pills?”
“Afraid I’m going to die on you?” Max said to his daughter-in-law Helga.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Julie always says, ‘What we forget, we’ll buy,” when we’re traveling. Angie is looking forward to your visit.”
“I have two gifts for her in the suitcase,” said Max.
“Age appropriate, I hope,” said Helga, helping him slide from the wheelchair onto the passenger seat. She began folding the wheelchair.
“Hard to meet that requirement when the kid’s a genius,” said Max. “I guess the brains have skipped a generation.”
Julie Gorman wasn’t stupid. She was an ER surgeon in south Jersey. Her partner Helga Swenson was a lawyer working in the same area. She had given birth to Angelica. His granddaughter’s genetic background came from Julie’s egg and an anonymous sperm donor. Max loved the kid and tolerated her origins. The new reality, he called it.
Helga slid into the driver’s seat, turned toward to Max, and smiled. “Don’t ruin this, old man. I know you don’t like me, but think of Angie. She loves you, Julie, and me. It’s as simple as that.”
“How are you going?”
“Verrazano, and then the Pike to where it joins the Parkway. Does that meet with your approval?”
“Sure. I was just wondering. Julie’s at work, I presume?”
“She gets off at eight. Fridays are busy for her.”
“Why wouldn’t they be? Weekend traffic is chaos. Plenty of casualties to fill an ER. People drive like nuts, no criticism intended. I’m happy I can’t drive anymore.”
“How’d the semester go?”
“My student still hasn’t chosen a thesis. Maybe she’ll become one of those perpetual doctoral candidates. We’re also trying to fill a tenure-track position and haven’t had much luck. The chairperson wants to pick the less of eleven evils. As usual, we get the pick of the crop, but the crop isn’t bountiful. No one does pure math anymore. It’s all computer science.”
“Supply and demand,” said Helga.
“If the law of supply and demand applied, you’d be a Walmart cashier,” said Max. “We have an over-supply of lawyers, don’t you think?”
Max saw the frown. “People have legal problems,” said Helga.
“Created by lawyers. And I’ve never had a legal problem.”
“Do you have a will?”
“Has your driving worsened since last year?”
“You should have a will. Forget about me. Do it for Julie and Angie.”
Max thought a moment. “OK, but I want a trust so the government doesn’t take everything I leave to you three.”
“That’s doable. I’m honored that you include me.”
“Next in line after my dog.”
Helga remained focused on the road. “He likes the kennel, doesn’t he?”
“Loves it. He gets more exercise with them than he does with the dog walker. He’ll probably join his ancestors before I do, so you’ll be home free.”
They traveled the rest of the journey in silence.
***
When they arrived, Angie came running out the front door and climbed into the car to give Max a hug.
“Hey, my little genius, is 1749 a prime number?”
Angie thought a moment. “No, it’s divisible by three.”
Max laughed. “I have something for you.”
“What is it?”
“I’ll show you when the Amazon here gets my suitcase into the guest room.”
Helga glared at Max. “Patience, Angie. You can push the wheelchair and I’ll get your grandpa’s suitcase.”
Helga was soon stowing away the contents of the suitcase. At the bottom she found the two packages.
“Gimme, gimme,” said the twelve-year-old.
Helga looked in Max’ direction and raised an eyebrow. “Go ahead,” said Max, “before she goes berserk with adrenalin.”
Angie tore open the first package and opened the box. Studying one of the pieces, she said, “This looks like a chess piece, but there are too many of them.”
“It’s a type of 3D-chess. Helga will help you set it up so we can play. Open the other one.”
It was a book. Angie read the title. “Mathematics and the Universe. What’s this about, Grandpa?”
“It’s like a historical novel, the story of how math has shaped science and vice versa. We talked about that over Skype, remember?”
“I had more questions than you had answers,” said Angie.
“My communication skills aren’t nearly as good as this author’s,” said Max. “She explains pretty serious stuff very well.”
“I’ll start on it tonight.”
When Angie took the empty suitcase to the basement, Helga stopped hanging up clothes and turned to Max. “Couldn’t you just buy her Harry Potter or something?”
“She started the first Harry Potter novel and thought all the hocus-pocus was silly,” said Max. “She has a grown-up, critical, and fertile mind. Live with it.”
Helga sighed. “Sometimes I just wish she was a normal kid.”
“Well, she’s not.”
Helga nodded and continued with the clothes.
***
They spent that first weekend at a picnic and a visit to Six Flags for the three of them. Monday morning came. Helga and Julie were in work. Max was in the backyard in shaded area watching Angie in the swings. He knew she’d soon be bored.
Sure enough, she soon ran over to where he sat in his wheelchair.
“Grandpa, when will we play 3D-chess?”
“When mommy-Julie or mommy-Helga set it up. It’s like a DNA helix.”
“Left-handed or right-handed?”
Max smiled. “I frankly don’t know. We’ll have to learn to play it together. My graduate student says it’s fun.”
“Paul is teaching me homotopy theory,” said Angie.
Max considered the statement. “You have a boyfriend?”
Angie blushed. “Of course not. He’s a lawn gnome.”
“A lawn gnome? So you’re really teaching yourself?”
“No, Paul’s a live gnome. He calls himself that, but then he laughs about it. He thinks it’s a great joke, I guess.”
Max bit his lip. He’d heard of children with imaginary friends, but this case sounded unusual.
“Can I meet Paul?”
“He’s shy. But I can ask him if he wants to meet you when I see him next.”
***
That night, Julie was eating a late dinner when Max wheeled in from the den to join her at the dining table.
“Papa, you’re getting around better in that. Next thing you know, you’ll be in the marathon.”
Max laughed. “I never was into sports. All that sweating and showing off body muscles just seemed uncouth.” He was working up courage to pop a question. “Do you have a garden gnome?”
“Eww! One of those tacky things. Never. Why?”
“Angie says she’s learning homotopy theory from a garden gnome named Paul.”
“Wow. First question: what’s homotopy theory? Second question: is she actually learning it, whatever it is? Third question: does she have a boyfriend now who’s also gifted, or is he an imaginary friend? You know, having a gifted child is trying at times.”
“The short answer to question one is that homotopy theory uses group theory to characterize curves and surfaces. You’d be bored with anything beyond that. For question two, she’s mastering it and is already beyond many grad students. For question three, I’m not sure. If Paul is imaginary, she believes he’s real, and that could be a worry.”
Julie nodded. “Maybe we should get that 3D-chess set put together. It would be a distraction.”
“Possibly. But she wants me to meet Paul. She thinks I’d like to discuss math things with him. How far do I take that?”
Julie shrugged. “How the hell should I know? I’m an ER doctor, not a child psychologist. Where’s the chess set?”
“In my room,” he said. He looked at his watch. “It’s late. It doesn’t look easy to assemble. I’m terrible at that. Remember the Legos?” Angie had been much better at inventing new constructions with Legos. “I had an erector set as a kid and never did much with that either. She’s much more broadband than I’ll ever be. Have you tested her?”
“Not since she was eight. The psychologist was amazed even then. We’re trying to allow her a normal childhood.”
“I agree with that as long as it doesn’t stop her from realizing her potential. She could achieve big things.”
“She’s still our child.”
Max smiled. “Ever want another one? Maybe a boy?”
“We’ve talked about it. There’s a little bit of a problem. Helga can’t have any more and I worry that I’m too old.”
“I see. That’s news. Thank you for being candid. What about adoption?”
“It’s such a hassle, but yes, that might work. We’ve talked about that too. We’re just so damn busy.”
Max wondered why he was curious about this. Maybe because Julie was an only child? One’s life often seemed like a roll of the dice. He still remembered the call about his wife’s accident. Neither she nor the baby survived. Nannies had raised Julie. In Europe, that had been more common and affordable.
***
“He’s in the woods,” said Angie.
“Who’s in the woods?” said Max.
“Remember Paul? He’s in the woods. He wants to meet you.”
“Can I get there in my wheel chair?”
“The path’s clear except for some old branches. I can toss those aside. Follow me.”
The woods bordered both sides of a cross-country swath cleared for power lines. Julie had said once that people skied there in the winter.
He followed her to a small clearing. She put two fingers to her lips and emitted a piercing whistle. He saw the underbrush start to move. Soon a creature appeared.
It looked like a bowling pin that needed the Mediterranean diet. It had a crown of red hair, huge black eyes, and a very round mouth all packed into the thin top of the bowling pin. The arms were long, almost reaching to the ground, and the legs short, almost hidden by the lower part of the body. The walk was a waddle.
He—and it definitely was male—wasn’t a lawn gnome.
“I am Paul,” said the creature. “We would like to invite you and your granddaughter to visit us.”
Max was thankful he was sitting in his wheelchair. The surprise he felt might have made him keel over otherwise. He had so many questions!
“Where did you come from?” was the first.
“He lives in the woods, Grandpa,” said Angie.
“Maybe now, but he’s not from this planet,” said Max. “What have you done to Angie?”
“Besides teaching her a bit of mathematics, nothing. You don’t have to accept my invitation. I’d consider it an honor to be invited if I were in your place, though.”
“You said visit us. Visit you where?”
“It’s a bit hard to explain.”
“Try me. I might be a mathematician, but I’m also familiar with modern physics, at least where mathematical theory has had major influence.”
“You’re making Paul nervous,” said Angie.
Maybe, he thought, but I need to talk with this ET to make sure I’m not hallucinating. He put his index finger to his lips. “Shh. Let him answer.”
Paul began to talk and waddle-pace. “I think I can find the words. You’ve heard of the multiverse with different universes embedded in it?” Max nodded. A set of coherent conjectures, no more no less. Games theoretical physicists play. “Relative to human beings’ current knowledge, yes.” Did he just read my mind? “But you’re moving close to truth.” He stopped, used his foot to draw a line in the soft ground, and then stepped over it. “When done right, moving between them is that easy, but one has to be careful.”
“You have to know where to step to?” said Angie.
“Precisely. Such a smart child. In some universes, life such as ours can’t exist. Planck’s and/or the fine structure constant can have the wrong values, and so forth. You also have to tip-toe through a few before you come back to this one in a different place.”
“What about general relativity?” said Max.
“Clocks are universe-dependent, if that’s what you’re asking. I can’t violate this universe’s laws because I’m moving through others.”
“That doesn’t happen just because you’re in such great shape as an athlete,” said Max. “Where does the energy come from.”
“We call it a portal. We probe around with it first and find a good spot to set it down. It stays there until we take it away.”
“That sounds a bit random,” said Max.
“Oh, it is. One has to get it right. It’s a bit of an art, in fact. Like you, I’m just a mathematician, so I don’t know the technical details. Do you know how your iPhone works?” I don’t have an iPhone. Paul stopped pacing. “It was a rhetorical question. The portal’s not permanent. You can return from your little visit too.”
“Why do you want me in particular?” Paul gave the title of a paper Max had written seventeen years earlier. “I couldn’t get any further in that line of research.”
“Yes, yes. That still unproven Gorman Conjecture. One of our fellows has some ideas about how to prove it. Are you interested?”
“I’d have to review my notes. I don’t have them here. They’re in the city.”
“No problem. We have copies.”
“Of my private papers?”
“A bit of questionable morality, I suppose, but it’s all for the advancement of mathematical knowledge.” Questionable morality? What about turning my grandkid into a mathematical monster? “I understand your emotional bias. I apologize. But, with our training, Angie could be a great mathematician recognized in many galaxies. Would you deny her that opportunity?”
“What’s he talking about, Grandpa?”
“Nothing to worry about, hon. I think he just wants to play 3D-chess with us. Where’s that portal?”
“Shouldn’t we say goodbye?” said Angie.
“We can make the time passed here seem like only a few hours,” said Paul.
“So, show me the portal, damn it!”
***
“He can’t have gone far,” Julie said to the cop who was leading the search from their back deck. “He’s in a wheelchair.”
The cop held a finger to his lips and listened to his earpiece. “They found the wheelchair but not your daughter or father.”
“That’s crazy,” said Helga. “He can stand but hardly walk. Angie’s not big enough to carry him.”
“I figured that,” said the cop. “There are old wells sometimes in these woods. Maybe they fell into one.”
“It would have to be next to the wheelchair,” said Julie. “Your men should be careful. I’m going to go into town and look around. Maybe someone picked them up.”
“From the woods?” said Helga.
“They could have literally picked him up and brought Angie along. My father doesn’t weigh much now. Do you have a better suggestion?”
Both Helga and the cop shrugged.
Julie went into the house, collected her keys, purse, and light coat, and went out to the garage. When she opened the door she saw Max walking up the driveway holding Angie by the hand.
“Where have you been? And how can you walk now, Papa?”
“We took a little stroll with Paul, the lawn gnome,” said Max. “That answers both your questions. What’s today’s date?”
“What a stupid question! It’s the fourth of June.”
Angie looked up at Max. “You see, Grandpa, Paul was right.”
“Looks like it, hon. Want to go visit him again?”
“You bet. Shall we take mommy-Julie and mommy-Helga?”
Max glanced at Julie, who was still red-faced and speechless.
“Let’s see if she calms down first,” he said with a smile.
***
In elibris libertas…
