“That is quite a different matter. Nine generations! Those folk evidently run to large families.”
“Actually they weren’t all large. It was the secondborn girl, and then the thirdborn. I mean, if the secondborn was a girl, and then she had three children and the third was a girl, and then she had at least four, with the fourth a girl, and so on.”
“Matrilineal, for this purpose. So your Nona is the ninth child in her family, the daughter of a woman who was the eighthborn in her family, and so on back through the seventh-born, sixthborn, and back to the firstborn.”
“You got it. And they align magically with the Mandelbrot bugs, a chain of satellites nine layers deep.”
The professor winced when she referred to the forms as bugs, but shook it off. “I believe I have it now. The ninth rad of the ninth rad would indeed be wrong. It would need to be the ninth rad of the eighth rad of the seventh rad, and so on. An entirely different address.”
Colene’s mouth fell open. “You’re right, Prof! You do know where you’re going!”
“It is my business to know,” he said. He seemed to be better satisfied with Colene than before. “So let’s proceed with the denouement. I believe I can give you a specific address that you can show your friend.”
“I’m for that!”
He pointed to the Head. “You will note that the Head has a head, and so on ad infinitum. We now use a slash to designate a rad on a rad: R2/R2 for the head on the head, R2/R2/R2 for the head on that, and so on. Similarly the next largest rad on the head, here, is R2/R3.”
“We can make a chain of rads on rads that way too!” she exclaimed.
“Precisely. And this chain more accurately reflects the numbers of the births.”
“It sure does. So then we go to the fourth rad on that rad on the head—”
“R2/R3/R4,” he agreed. “And so on to the ninth on the eighth. Unfortunately my printed diagram does not have that level of definition. I can use my computer program to amplify it on the screen, if you wish, but this will take some time—”
The door opened. Slick and Provos entered. “Trouble,” Slick said. “She put me on to it. The police must’ve located us. Do you have what you need, Colene?”
“Just about,” Colene said. “But—”
“Take this,” Felix said quickly, handing Colene an envelope. “This is an issue of Amygdala with a good discussion of nomenclature. You now understand the principles well enough to follow it.”
“Right,” Colene agreed. “You did the job, Prof.”
“And your account is quit,” Slick said. “I erased it last night. We don’t know each other. If anyone asks you—”
“This encounter never occurred,” the professor said. “I have spent this hour reviewing fractals alone.” He looked relieved. “And I owe no one anything.”
“Right,” Slick said. He looked at Colene. “Come on.” Provos was already hurrying Esta out the door.
Colene followed them out, pausing only long enough to wave goodbye to Professor Felix. He had in the end had what she wanted, and that was what counted. If she had helped him get out of some bad debt, maybe from gambling, she was glad.
Then she reconsidered. She couldn’t just depart without more than a wave; anyone could wave. So she indulged her propensity for risk-taking, ran back into the room, caught the professor by the shoulders, and planted a passionate kiss on his surprised mouth. “You couldn’t teach this ninth grader much, Prof!” she whispered, and stepped back.
He was still staring with satisfying stupefaction as she closed the door on him.
Provos was leading the way out of the building—but not the way they had entered. In fact they used a fire escape. Then she led them to an unfamiliar car.
It was locked. Slick brought out a tool and jimmied open the door. They piled in while he reached under the wheel to hot-wire the ignition. They were stealing a car!
“But my suitcase—all my things are in the other car,” Esta protested.
“We’ll get you more,” Colene said. “It’s not like you had a lot to lose.”
“Duck down,” Slick said, donning some kind of mask. Colene and Esta were in back, Provos in front. Provos did not seem to be hiding. What was going on?
They pulled out as a police car pulled in. Colene caught just a peep of it through the window before she buried her head.
The car traveled slowly, as if the driver were completely unconcerned about anything in the neighborhood. The two in front removed their masks; Slick seemed to have such things with him as standard equipment. The car turned onto a faster highway and accelerated. Then Slick spoke. “No? Damn!”
Colene and Esta lifted their heads. Slick now looked like an old man with a broad mustache, and Provos looked like another. Provos was pointing back the way they had come.
“You better believe her,” Colene said. “She remembers the future, and I think you have no future in that direction.” “But I was headed for the Oklahoma City airport,” he said as he slowed and signaled a turn. “That’s where our plane leaves. I was going to get you and Provos a taxi back to anywhere you wanted to go.”
“So they’ve got the airport staked out,” Colene said. “So you’ll have to drive instead. It’s better than getting caught.” Slick nodded. “She’s been right so far. She put me on to the approach of the police, and to the one car that would not be missed for a day. She may not speak our language, but she’s one savvy old woman.” He lifted his right hand, and Provos lifted her left hand at the same time and touched his fingers. What got Colene was the fact that neither of them looked, but the contact was perfect.
They drove back through town, then southwest toward Colene’s home. This was the opposite direction the police would expect. But they would be watching Slick’s house too.
“You’d better just drop Provos and me off near my house and go on through town without stopping. We don’t know how fast they’ll spread the net, once they catch on that you’re not at the airport. Sorry you wasted your money on those tickets.”
“The money’s nothing, I just want to get my niece clear of this country to where she’ll never hurt again. Start a new life, maybe, for us both.”
Esta smiled. She wanted it too. She probably realized that her uncle was not on the right side of the law, but she believed in him, and so did Colene, in this respect.
A light started flashing behind them. It was another police car.
Provos turned to Slick, making a signal of not-to-worry. But he, conditioned by years of his business, was already cutting over to the right. He swung out of the lane, around the line of cars ahead, and drove with two wheels in dirt until he squealed onto a small road intersecting at right angles. The rear end of the car slewed, giving Colene a scare before stabilizing. This wasn’t her idea of fun driving.
The police car spun onto the road behind them. Slick accelerated, but it was clear that this car lacked the power of the other.
Colene saw Provos concentrating, trying to remember what happened next. She knew that Provos’ memories were changing; Slick should have pulled over for the police car, and there would have been no trouble. Maybe it was just a bad taillight. Otherwise Provos would have been concerned. Now Provos was concerned, and needed to sort out her new memories to see whether they were acceptable.
They were not. Provos pointed to the right, indicating that they should turn onto the next crossroad. But Slick didn’t see her. “Turn!” Colene cried, but by then they were past the spot, and Provos was looking confused again.
Suddenly there were two police cars ahead, turning sideways across the road to form a roadblock. “They radioed ahead,” Colene said. “They’re going to catch us. Because we acted suspiciously when it was a routine check.”