Moss climbed from the truck and looked in all directions. In the distance, a jackrabbit bounded out of sight among some rocks. There might have been some rattlesnakes around, maybe some leggy, venomous insects among the scrub brush, but that was all. “Yeah, yeah, Jack, this is just what I had in mind.”
“So what are you doing, testing a bomb or something?”
Moss laughed. “Oh, no, no, it’s just an experiment we didn’t want to do in town. Depending on how things go, there could be an explosion, maybe a little fire.”
Jack took that in stride, surveying the bleak surroundings from under the brim of his hat. “Well, you won’t hurt anything out here.”
“So we got a deal?”
“Soon’s I get the money.”
Moss handed Jack two thousand dollars in hundreds. “And by the way, you don’t know anything about this.”
“Never heard of you.”
Eighteen days to Mandy’s premiere …
Just standing on the ground harnessed to the hang glider got Mandy’s adrenaline going. The wing quivered and tugged with any breath of wind; she could jump up and feel it grab the air as she came down. It was like Mary Poppins’s umbrella, only for real, big enough to ride on the wind and take her and her instructor with it—which it did.
Hands on the control bar, face down the hill, start running into the breeze, control bar slightly forward …
Ooh! Wow!It still thrilled her the way the wing picked them up, just like that, and the hillside dropped away.
Feel it, feel it, feel it: pull the control bar from the direction you want to turn, push forward to nose up, pull back to nose down, don’t overcorrect, anticipate where the wing is going, time it out, catch those updrafts …
Sailing through the air wasn’t much different from sailing through time and space. In both environments you rode currents and waves, negotiated through surges and ripples. The mental discipline was exactly the same: feel it, anticipate, don’t overcorrect, get the rhythm.
Her instructor was impressed with how fast she caught on, as if she’d done it before. Well …
Move over, birdies, Momma Dove’s on the wing!
At dusk, in the middle of Jack Wright’s most desolate acre, Mandy tried not to fidget as Parmenter affixed sensors to her forehead to monitor her brainwaves and advised her as she affixed some more to herself to monitor her vitals. Wires from the sensors led to an interface, the interface was connected to Parmenter’s laptop computer, the computer was hooked up to a satellite receiver, and back at the lab, Loren Moss was monitoring the data at the Machine’s central console.
This stuff was still mind-boggling.
They were set up under a shade canopy where Dane had neatly stacked exactly 35.76 concrete blocks with a combined weight of 1,520 pounds. They’d brought them in Loren Moss’s pickup truck, each one carefully weighed and labeled, including a block they had to chip down to 0.76 of its original size and weight.
Parmenter checked the readings from the sensors on his computer and nodded satisfaction. “All right. Now, Mandy, if you’ll take a seat on top of the blocks …”
She stepped carefully onto the blocks, holding the wires from the sensors so as not to snag or tangle them. Dane took her chair next to Parmenter’s picnic table workstation to observe.
“Comfortable?” Parmenter asked.
“Just dandy,” Mandy replied, secretly wishing she could sit on a pillow—Parmenter said she could have one, but if she did they would have to chip away some more of the 0.76 concrete block to allow for the added weight.
“All right,” he said, tapping away at the computer keys. “You and your clothing and the concrete blocks should now total one thousand, six hundred and thirty-two pounds. You are wearing exactly the same clothes you wore when we weighed you?”
“Same clothes.”
“Nothing new in your pockets?”
“Nope.”
“Uh, what about that gum?”
“Oh.” He put out his hand and she spit the gum into it.
“Very good.” Parmenter gave the gum to Dane. “Now, according to Dane’s best recollection and the cut of your later costumes, you weighed an additional four pounds at age fifty-nine, so we’ve factored that in.”
She tried not to make a face—her face was always saying things she didn’t mean to, always giving away her thoughts and feelings. How could that guy be so doggone clinical about this? She was not only going to gain four pounds in a matter of minutes if not seconds, she was also going to gain thirty-nine years and, if she couldn’t stir up the magic feelings, thoughts, or vibes needed to pull this off, she was going to burn to death. But hey, no sweat, no big deal. It might work, it might not, you win some, you lose some, but whatever happens, it’ll be fascinating and educational.
She stole a look at Dane, careful not to look too long, not to let her eyes place any obligation on him. As he tried to say, there were so many things to think about, so many things they couldn’t get wrong. Their love was too big a question to tackle now, and for all they knew, the whole matter of Dane and Mandy and their bond of forty years was meant to end on September 17. So, of course, he was guarded and she understood, but one look, any look at him told her he was the same man, steady as a rock, the only thing she could be sure about.
Parmenter put on a headset and spoke via his computer to Moss back at the lab. “We are ready at this end.”
In the solitude of the lab, Moss, headset in place and eyes on the monitors, replied, “Clear signal. Go ahead.”
Parmenter scanned his computer screen, Mandy, the blocks, the sensor wires one more time. “All right. Now, this is all exploratory. We need to find out if you can include the mass of the blocks in your timeline with you. You were able to do that with the nurse’s coat when you slipped out of the Spokane Medical Center.”
Oh!Mandy thought. I still need to return that!
“You’ve done it with smaller objects in your magic act; you’ve managed to keep your clothes with you whenever you’ve traveled interdimensionally, so we know it’s possible. If you can make yourself one unit of mass with the blocks in this test run, then you should be able to make yourself one unit with them when you default to your original timeline and attempt to swap timelines with the Machine. Is that all clear?”
Mandy ran it through her mind again, then asked, “So then, it would be Mandy and her blocks, one thousand, six hundred and thirty-two pounds of stuff, bumping out the Machine’s one thousand, six hundred and thirty-two pounds of stuff and taking over its timeline?”
Parmenter gave a big nod. “So all you have to do is pull in those blocks. Go interdimensional and take them with you.”
She drew a deep breath and sighed it out to ease her jitters. “Okay.”
She looked down at the blocks, big, blah-looking, lifeless concrete things. It was hard to bond with them. No images came to her mind, no feelings to her heart. She could feel Parmenter and Dane watching her. “Am I supposed to make them move or something?”
“If that will help.”
She stared at them again, but nothing happened. She and the blocks were in this time dimension, stable and benign, and it was tough to find a reason, a desire, to go elsewhere.
Parmenter suggested, “Well, why don’t you try doing a magic trick with them? Yes, make them move.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, stroked her forehead—
“Careful of those wires!” Parmenter butted in, shattering her concentration.
Can’t find it. Can’t find it.
Then Dane stood before her, leaned over the blocks, and touched her shoulder, looking into her eyes … just enough. “What if you thought about … Christmas? The dress you wore, the cake we enjoyed … how we danced.”
Oh, no, was he going to go there, actually permit one small measure of belief that once, maybe still, they were in love? That she could really be …