“No,” Afra said. “I couldn’t stand to have him remain as jelly, or as an idiot. Better to have him dead, than that.”
Ivo froze. Beatryx was making a good case — and Afra had just undermined it.
“That isn’t true!” Beatryx told her. “You just think because he died, you have to take the blame. But he did it himself — he watched the destroyer on purpose.”
Afra stared straight ahead. Beatryx was right. Afra hadn’t tried to kill Brad. She had taken a wild gamble in an effort to bring him back — from the dead, in effect. Her failure did not imply malice.
“Do you have any statement to make on your own behalf?” Groton asked Afra after a moment.
There was no response.
“In that case, having heard the presentation and being already familiar with the background of this case, it behooves me to render an impartial decision.”
Groton was going through with it, but it seemed to Ivo that this “trial” was in a shambles. Afra had not fought back properly, and so had not been officially vindicated. They had accomplished nothing.
“I find the defendant guilty of conduct prejudicial to the well-being of the decedent, Bradley Carpenter. Motivation for overt, premeditated murder, however, has by no means been shown, and more than a single interpretation may be placed on the defendant’s physical actions. At worst, they were reckless. The actual instrument of demise appears to have been the phenomenon we term the destroyer, combined with an incompletely understood function of the melting cycle. Rehabilitation of the defendant therefore seems feasible.”
Brother! Would Afra swallow this?
“Are you saying it was an accident?” Beatryx asked. “But she still has to pay for it?”
“Just about,” Groton conceded. “Recklessness, though, has been well established in my judgment.”
“I suppose that’s all right, then.”
Ivo nodded acquiescence.
“I therefore sentence you, Afra Summerfield of Georgia, to exile from the equal society of man until such time as the neutralization of the said destroyer seems feasible, so that no other person need ever be similarly afflicted. This will be considered penance by corrective endeavor. Further: because to a considerable extent your personal pride was at fault, this sentence includes a period of confinement at onerous labor. You shall assume the gardening and cooking and laundry chores for the Triton encampment and shall not leave the garden-kitchen-laundry areas except to make beds and to perform such other menial tasks as may be required of you by the other members of this encampment. This labor shall terminate only upon the group’s departure from the present locale, at which time you shall be permitted to petition the group for readmittance to its society on a probationary basis.
“Until that point you shall not again be addressed by name, nor shall you address any member of the group by name.”
And Afra, amazingly, nodded. She wanted to be punished!
“This sentence,” Groton said after a pause, “is suspended, owing to—”
“No!” Afra said dully. “It’s a fair sentence.”
So Groton had intended only a token reprimand. Afra, anticipating this, had insisted that it be real. Her privilege, of course — but were they helping her to recover, or merely catering to her masochism?
“Girl,” Ivo snapped into the intercom.
After a few seconds Afra’s voice came back. “Sir?”
“Report to the drawing room for conference.”
She appeared duly, clad in a simple black skirt falling below the knees, with a long-sleeved blouse overset by a loose housecoat. A drab kerchief bound her hair, giving her something of the aspect of a nun.
She stood silently, waiting for him to speak.
“Sit down.”
“Sir?”
“Down. I have something to show you.”
She settled on the least comfortable perch available.
Ivo took his stance before the blackboard he had set up. “A conception of cosmology,” he said, assuming the manner of a lecturer. “The evidence available indicates that our universe is in a state of continual expansion. Calculations suggest that there is a finite limit to such expansion, governed by variables too complex to discuss at this time. For convenience we shall think of the present universe as that four-dimensional volume beyond which our three-dimensional physical space and matter cannot expand: the cosmic limitation. We shall further consider these four dimensions to be spatial in nature, though in fact the universe is a complex of n dimensions, few of which are spatial and many of which interact with spatial planes deviously. Do you understand?”
“Which other dimensions are you thinking of?”
“Time, mass, intensity, probability — any measurable or theoretically measurable quality.” She nodded, and he saw that he had her interest. There was nothing like a few weeks of household drudgery to make the stellar reaches more exciting. “Now assume that the 3-space cosmos we perceive can be represented by a derivative: a one-dimensional line.” He drew a line on the board. “If you prefer, you may think of this line as a cord or section of pipe, in itself embracing three dimensions, but finite and flexible.” He amplified his drawing:
“Quite clear,” she said. “A pipe of macroscopic diameter represented by a line.”
“Our fourth spatial dimension is now illustrated by a two-space figure: a circle.” He erased the pipe-section and drew a circle on the board. “Within this circle is our line. Let’s say it extends from point A to point B on the perimeter.” He set it up:
“The ends of the universe,” she agreed.
“Call this 3-space line within this 4-space circle the universe at, or soon after, its inception.”
“The fabled big bang.”
“Yes. Now in what manner would our fixed circle accommodate our variable line — if that line lengthened? Say the line AB expanded to a length of 2 AB?”
“It would have to wrinkle,” she said immediately.
“Precisely.” He erased his figure and drew another with a bending line:
“Now our universe has been expanding for some time,” he continued. “How would you represent a hundredfold extension?”
She stood up, came to the board, accepted the chalk from him, and drew a more involved figure in place of his last:
“Very good,” he said. “Now how about a thousandfold? A millionfold?”
“The convolutions would develop convolutions,” she said, “assuming that your line is infinitely flexible. May I draw a detail subsection?”
“You may.”
Carefully she rendered it:
“This would be shaped into larger loops,” she explained, “and the small ones could be subdivided similarly, until your circle is an impacted mass of threads. The diameter and flexibility of your line would be the only limitation of the process.”
“Excellent,” he said. “Sit down.”
She bristled momentarily, then remembered her place. She sat.
“Now assuming that this is an accurate cosmology,” he lectured, “note certain features.” He pointed with the chalk. “Our line touches itself at many points, both in the small loops and large ones. Suppose it were possible to pass across those connections, instead of traveling down the length of our line in normal fashion?”
“Down the line being traveled from one area to another in space? As from Earth to Neptune?” He nodded. “Why—” She hesitated, seeing the possibilities. “If Earth and Neptune happened to be in adjacent loops, you might jump from one to the other in — well, virtually, no time.”