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It was clearly Thurien in origin, although there had never been any doubt about that. Some of the devices were of recognizable function, others more obscure. A number of optical and other imagers were identified, busily scanning the surroundings. One of the appendages suggested a Thurien gravitic transponder used for relaying into h-space.

"The cluster at the left-hand end looks like an antenna array for the local planetary spectrum," another Thurien commented, this time in the Institute.

"The design is unfamiliar, but the dimensions check," VISAR agreed.

"Are my eyes playing tricks, or is that an UNSA emblem painted on the side-at about coordinates 1.2 and 3.7?" Sonnebrandt queried, across in the other building at Quelsang.

"I wouldn't be at all surprised. It's the kind of thing I can imagine Vic doing," Danchekker said. Hunt shot him a pained look across the two desks separating them.

"Let me see if I can enhance it," VISAR said. "It could be just a trick of the light."

VISAR also reported that transmissions had been received across a number of standard Thurien communications signal bands. But they were garbled and defied all efforts to extract anything meaningful. Nevertheless, it was encouraging. A proof as bizarre as anything that could be asked for that project's immediate aims, at least, were realistic.

Most significant was that if the device was equipped to collect data from the place it arrived at, it followed that it had to possess also a means of sending its findings back to where it had come from. Otherwise, what would be the point of collecting anything? It implied that even at the stage the scientists were now at, they should be close to achieving the communication across the Multiverse that the original brief visit of Hunt's alter ego had demonstrated as being possible. The fact that the device had remained only for seconds indicated that although the versions of themselves who sent it seemed to have solved the problem of getting a transported object to stop, they were not yet able to stabilize it. Chien had already proposed a halting method that the Thurien experts agreed sounded promising, and so with luck they couldn't be very far behind.

The manner of dispersion when the device vanished was consistent with the idea of its being locked as a standing wave pattern that had lost coherence. VISAR was already analyzing the decay profile, from which it was hoped a lot more would be learned. From what could be ascertained at the present, it seemed to the scientists that they were on the right track. This boosted their confidence to push ahead even more vigorously with implementing a similar instrument package of their own, which they just happened to be working on. But given the strange nature of these parallel realms of existence, it probably wasn't such a strange coincidence really.

***

The first visit by an artefact from another universe, and the ensuing conversation between Hunt and an elsewhere-existing version of himself, had been announced publicly at Owen's retirement dinner a week before Hunt and the others' departure. With no precedent to compare with it in the whole of history, it could only be a godsend to the media and entertainment industries, the publishing world, and the entire spectrum of scientific debate from supermarket tabloids and chat shows to the proceedings of the most eminent institutions. News from Earth was that the whole subject of Multiverse physics and the implications of effectively unlimited "twin" realities had become the latest sensation to capture the popular imagination. The discovery of "Charlie" was old now; the subsequent speculations regarding the supposedly extinct race of Ganymeans, died when they showed up very much real and alive; and the more recently revealed computer-evolved world of the Ents was already starting to wear thin.

A British sitcom entitled Sorry, That's the Universe Next Door was roaring up through the ratings, and a number of games had been rushed out in which players at different terminals hopped in and out of each other's realities. Old song titles that had inspired top-selling spoofs included "Welcome to my World," "Don't Blame Me," and "Out of Nowhere," while a remake of The Wizard of Oz was in the works with a time-line warp replacing the tornado and providing the lead-up to the classic-line warp: "This isn't our Kansas, Toto."

Inevitably, the public was saturated with misconceptions which, once formed and launched into circulation, took on a life of their own through uncritical repetition. One of the most common was a revival of the old notion of the universe "splitting" at critical junctures, "critical" usually being taken to mean as judged from the standpoint of human affairs. That the fundamental processes of physics should be responsive to events in the day-to-day lives of cabbage-growers or kings was evidently no obstacle to the popularizers, some of whom didn't hesitate to embellish the notion with articles bearing such titles as "How Your Flip of a Coin Can Change the Universe," and even a book-length decision-making guide on how to get the better deals in life at the expense of other selves competing for them in other universes. And, of course, Multiverse phenomena in some form or other became the latest explanation for telepathy, telekinesis, psychic visions, visitations, ghosts, and the basis for a new interpretation of UFOs, various "triangle" mysteries of interchangeable geography, and the list of usual suspects from the JFK assassination all the way back to the builders of the pyramids.

Hunt remained serenely detached from it all with a mixture of amusement and despair… until VISAR put through a call from Caldwell's secretary, Mitzi, at Goddard, saying that someone from a company from California had been in touch, who wanted to offer Hunt a part in a movie.

"You're kidding," was Hunt's hardly original reaction when she delivered the message.

"Yeah, as if I don't have anything better to do than make practical joke calls to busy scientists at other star systems. He's serious-as serious as anyone out in the Granola farm gets, anyway. His name's Arty Strang. From Premier Production Studios."

"PPS?… Are you sure this isn't a joke?"

"It's not even April one, Vic."

"Hm. Okay. What kind of movie is he talking about?"

"How would I know? The only way you'll find out is to call him and ask."

"I guess so…" Hunt realized that he was stalling for time while he tried to organize his thoughts more coherently. "Oh yes, and while were at it, do you know anything about a Lieutenant Polk of the FBI?"

"Yes. He was trying to get hold of you too. How did you find out about him?"

"He tried calling me here. How did he get the access codes?"

"Well, they are the FBI."

"So it wasn't you, then?"

"No. We just told him you were out of town. Gregg figured you had better things to do too."

"Any idea what it was about?"

"Do you remember giving an investment tip for Formaflex in Texas to that neighbor of yours out at Redfern Canyons?"

"Jerry Santello? Yes, right. What about it?"

"You got it from the other version of you who showed up here, right?"

"That's right. Jerry had been bugging me about investments for a while. I thought it might keep him happy. So?"

"Well, it seems your other self was privy to information that's still not for general consumption yet in this universe we live in. Like, illegal? That's what Polk was on about. He wants to know where you got it from."

Hunt stared at the window in his visual field that Mitzi was speaking from. "That's it? We're on the verge of opening up new universes on a scale that would make colonizing all the galaxies look like camping in your own back yard, and he wants to talk about shopkeeper economics and bookkeeping?"

"I told you Gregg figured you'd have better things to do."