“His soul,” said Porniarsk, firmly and clearly.
“Call it that, for the moment, then,” said Dragger. “At any rate, it’s been some eight of the local days here, since then.”
“Eight days? Is that all?”
“That’s plenty,” said Ellen.
“It felt like....” I began, and ran out of words.
“Temporal differences,” said Dragger, more briskly, “or possibly differences in temporal perception? It’ll take a great deal of study.”
“But you did it, Marc,” said Ellen. “Whoever they are in the other universe, they’ve been sending messages in through the lens. The engineers here understand now. They’re cutting off the inflow of differential energy and doing something with the downdraft instead. It’s going to work out. It’s all going to work out.”
“You were right in the first place, Marc,” said Dragger. “We were too much a part of the time storm ourselves to realize the forces that were building up.”
“It’s interesting,” put in Porniarsk. “When you get down to it, there’s nothing in such great supply that it’s inexhaustible, no container so large it can’t be filled.”
“And that’s true for a universe as well as boxes, bags, oceans, and galaxies,” said Ellen.
“I should say, however,” Porniarsk corrected himself, “it may be that the human spirit is inexhaustible. Time and work will tell.”
“You were right, as I said, Marc,” Dragger repeated. She was apparently determined to make her apology, or say her piece, whichever it was. “We were too close to the problem to see it properly. Are you interested in the details?”
“You could say that,” I answered. I pulled the pillow up behind me and propped myself up against it. I got it crooked, but Ellen straightened it out.
“Essentially,” Dragger said, “you were right in assuming that it was a mistake to import energy into this universe from another one—Ellen told us what you told her, before you tried to go through the lens.”
“The energy already stored in the increase of entropy by matter falling back in toward itself,” I said, “can be tapped to push it out again, instead of using the energy flow from the other universe.”
“They told you about it over there, then?” Dragger asked.
“They didn’t tell me,” I said. “When you’ve seen both universes it becomes obvious. Theirs is the opposite of ours. There, something travelling at the speed of light is standing still. When you started tapping the differential in energy between their universe and ours, you triggered off the equivalent of an entropic decrease in their universe, where normality was a continually increasing entropy and a collapsing universe.”
“Ah,” said Dragger, “that explains it.”
“Explains why you’ve got to work with them to pump back the energy you’ve taken from them?” I said.
“No,” said Dragger, “we’re already doing that, of course. It becomes possible if we use the downdraft to trigger the release of energy stored on this side, as you said. No, I’m talking about a message we got from them, thanking us for solving their problem.”
“Oh,” I said.
“Apparently,” said Dragger, “they don’t realize that you weren’t deliberately sent to them as our representative, and that your concern was to solve the problem here, rather than altruistically offering to aid them with their problem.”
“I see,” I said.
“All this is rather embarrassing to us,” said Dragger. “There’s little we can do to set the record straight with them—at least until communications between the two universes becomes more sophisticated and we understand their conceptual processes better. In time, no doubt, we can make it clear to them they owe us no gratitude. But that still leaves us overwhelmingly obligated to you.”
“I don’t know what you can do about that,” I said. “I was interested in saving this universe for myself and those I now know I care for. Wait—”
“Yes?” Dragger said.
“There’s one thing,” I said. “One of the things that Porniarsk and I hoped for from the beginning was that you could do something for a leopard who used to be a friend of mine. He was killed, and Porniarsk put him in a state of timelessness, hoping that, up here in our future, you people would know how to reverse time for him back before the moment he was hurt and killed. If you could do that for me-”
“Oh, yes,” said Dragger. “Ellen and Porniarsk both told me about this; and we’ve looked at the body of the creature. I’m afraid there’s absolutely nothing we can do with that.”
“I see,” I said.
“Life isn’t something that can be created simply by an alteration of the temporal matrix, forward or back. You have to have noticed,” said Dragger, “that when you passed through a time line—a mistwall, as you called it in the past—and through time lines in travelling with Obsidian to your testing, that your movement in external time did not change your apparent age or state of health—”
“All right,” I said. “Yes. I understand. All right. Let it go then.”
“But what I was going to say,” went on Dragger, “is that life is apparently a concept; and, given the concept, the rest isn’t difficult. As you discovered yourself at the time you had your conversation with Ellen, in space, before you went to pass through the lens-”
“Oh, for God’s sake!” said Ellen, exasperatedly.
She went to the door of the bedroom, opened it, and put her head out into the corridor.
“Doc!” she called.
“—you were able to summon up a complete conceptual gestalt of your leopard, probably largely thanks to your developed ability to recognize and think in patterns. We’ve theorized that what you did was to put together in your mind a critical number of behavior patterns of the leopard and this triggered off a creative whole. Now, given this, of course, it’s simple for us—”
“I should have thought of it myself, of course,” said Porniarsk. “I’m ashamed that I didn’t.”
“—to build a duplicate of the physical body to which that conceptual gestalt belonged. As Porniarsk says, this much was possible even in his culture, back in that early time. So, we took the completed pattern from your unconscious several days ago—”
Doc appeared in the open doorway. A black, furry thunderbolt shot past him, flew through the air and landed on top of me, stropping my face with a file-rough tongue. The bed collapsed.
“Oof!” I said.
I had intended to say, “Will you get the hell off me, you crazy cat?” but I didn’t have the wind. He had knocked it all out of me. It didn’t matter.