“Damage?”
“Yes, man. I’ve been trying to tell you that the Rosetta Stone was damaged! All the Hieroglyphics were gone. That’s why no one ever made the connection between the languages, don’t you see? I’ve done something to change things—God only knows what—just like we changed things after the Palma Event. We never did figure out what happened that time, Paul. Neither one of us got anywhere near Lawrence’s explosives, but yet we did something to alter the event. We stumbled on one of your pushpins and everything was different.”
“Pushpoints,” Paul corrected, very annoyed.
“Whatever!”
Nordhausen was getting quite exasperated now. “The point is that we did something to the Meridian without even knowing it. We changed things, yet we all remember what was supposed to happen that night because we were in the Nexus…” His eyes widened with sudden realization. “That’s it, Paul! That’s it! I was in a Nexus Point! That’s why I remember it all—why I can still read the hieroglyphics, because I’m retaining memories from the time line I came from.” He gave Paul a searching look, almost pleading. “You’ve got to believe me,” he breathed, slumping back into his office chair. “Kelly’s Golems will bear me out. There’s no way they could miss something like this.”
Paul took a deep breath, his mind resting in his own time theory now. The professor was quite distressed, but was certainly convinced that he had done something to change the continuum.
“Very well,” he said, granting Nordhausen a measure of respect. “I agree. If you used the Arch, then you were certainly in a Nexus. Let’s assume that all this is true. All we have to go on now is your word that things are different—that we’re supposed to understand these hieroglyphics, and we don’t.”
“The notebooks, Paul.” Nordhausen held up a finger. “Let’s get over to my study and see if they’ve changed. Would they change?” He looked to Paul for the answer. “Champollion’s work vanished. God, what if my notebooks are altered as well? What does the time theory say about a situation like this? Would my personal effects be altered even if I was in a Nexus? Come on, man—You dreamt all this up!”
Dorland relented, giving the professor the benefit of the doubt. “You’re saying you wrote the hieroglyphics in a notebook?”
“Yes, I kept a journal using hieroglyphics instead of Roman letters—A little code I was playing with. Will it still be there? Will it vanish, or change, just like Lawrence’s Seven Pillars?”
“No…” Paul was suddenly deep in thought, pulled into the crux of the problem by Nordhausen’s obvious enthusiasm and distress. “No, if you were in a Nexus Point when the change occurred then that would make you a Free Variable, like we all were Free Variables during that first mission. In that case…” He paused, his hand playing over his chin as he thought. “Well, the integrity of your own personal Time Meridian should remain quite stable. It’s very likely that your notebooks would be unaltered. The knowledge you claim to have in your head about this stone relies upon them. They would have to exist.”
“Then we’ve got to get over to the study! It will prove everything I’ve been saying!”
“But—” Paul held up a warning finger. “You have apparently created a Gordian knot. Without the original work of the scholars who deciphered the hieroglyphics, then how could you have ever learned to decipher them, or even written your notebooks? That means you may be exposed to—”
Nordhausen was up off his chair before Paul could finish his thought, reaching out to take his friend by the arm and pull him along.
“It’s clear that we won’t resolve this by speculation. Let’s go look! My study is just a few minutes away.”
“Hold on,” said Paul. “We can prove it right here.” He sat down at a terminal and began typing.
“What are you doing?” Nordhausen was at his side, still very agitated, his impatience getting the better of him now.
“You say there was something called the Rosetta Stone. The Golems are out searching the Internet right now, but let me do a direct query to the on-line RAM bank—the reference bank we’ve kept running since the incident in Wadi Rumm.” It was not long before he had a report in hand that confirmed everything his friend was saying.
“See what I mean?” Nordhausen was delighted. “It’s all there: the discovery date, the significance of the find, Champollion’s work and even good photos. Look here,” he pointed at an image. “This whole section was gone when I saw the stone in the British Museum and, without that, no one could make the connection with the other languages. Come on—let’s go get my notebooks and see if they’ve survived!”
“What about Kelly and Maeve?” Paul cautioned. “There’s an alert on, and we can’t just leave the Arch facility in the middle of things. The Golems haven’t even finished their report yet.”
The phone rang, on the emergency line reserved for the senior team members, and they both craned their necks to look at it. Paul was the first to the receiver, smiling when he heard Maeve’s voice on the other end of the line.
“Hello, Maeve,” he began. “You coming in soon? We’ve got an alert from Kelly’s Golems and… What’s that?… Oh lord!” His eyes widened with shock and surprise and Nordhausen felt his stomach churn. Paul listened, his expression becoming more grave with each passing second.
“We’re coming right over,” he said. “No, don’t worry about the Arch, the Golems are working the report now and it will take them at least an hour… Yes, I’ve got Robert right here. He’s on to something as well. Hold on, Maeve. We’ll be there in a flash.”
“What?” Robert was about to explode.
“It’s Kelly,” said Paul. “He’s collapsed. They’ve got him over at University Hospital. I’m afraid your notebooks will have to wait, Robert.”
“Collapsed?” The look on Robert’s face was plain, and it was clear that he immediately associated this news with his own misdeed in using the Arch. The professor was up and heading for the door in an instant, but something jarred Paul’s thinking and his anxiety increased with every step his friend took. The notebooks…
“Robert, wait! Stand where you are! Don’t take another step!” His tone was so urgent and strained that it served as a strong leash, jerking his friend around, who stared at him with wide eyed surprise.
“Now what?” Nordhausen gave him an exasperated look.
“The notebooks,” Paul repeated. “The Meridian has changed, Robert. There’s been a Transformation. Don’t you see? I know nothing about these hieroglyphics, the Rosetta Stone, and all the rest. But the information is safe and sound in Kelly’s RAM bank—and in your head.”
“Yes, yes—but we can talk about this on the way, Paul. Come on!”
“Let me finish!” Paul’s voice was riveting. “It’s not a Gordian knot, Robert. It’s Paradox I’m worried about now. It’s you. The information about the Rosetta stone is in your head too, alive and well. But if you set foot outside the protective bubble of the Arch Nexus, then…”
“Then what?”
“You expose yourself to Paradox—Free Variable or not. Time has no way to account for your knowledge of the glyphs if you set one foot outside this room.” He folded his arms, his breathing finally stilled now that he had given birth to his fear and delivered his warning.
Nordhausen just stared at him.
Part III
Schroedinger’s Box
“Contradiction should awaken the attention, not passion.”