Mercury Rises (28 page)

"I apologize," said Finch. "I will get to your questions. Now as I mentioned, there are only a few places on earth where a doorway can be opened to the plane above us. This is due to the location of what I call meta-energy streams. Where our reality is closest to the reality above us, there is a convergence of the streams."

"This is all nonsense," said Jacob. "There's no evidence of any 'meta-energy streams.' You're mixing highly theoretical physics with mystical mumbo-jumbo."

"It may seem so," said Finch. "But first of all, you have to understand that the term 'meta-energy stream' is just a metaphor. We understand these so-called 'streams' about as well as physicists understood the atom a hundred years ago. When I was in school, I was taught that an atom was comprised of a bunch of protons and neutrons kind of glommed together, with electrons whizzing around the nucleus like planets orbiting the sun. It turns out, of course, that this is a wildly misleading model. But it was people using essentially that model who designed the atomic bomb, so I guess it was close enough for government work.

"Anyway, the point is this: quantum physics teaches us that our own observations of a phenomenon can affect the outcome of a phenomenon. What mainstream physics has not yet come to terms with is the fact that this is true not only on a micro scale, but also on a macro scale. Not only do submicroscopic particles misbehave as a result of observation, entire universes do!

"Within our reality, there are actually multiple universes. Call them 'planes,' for simplicity. Sometimes these planes bump up against each other, and sometimes they even slide over top of one another. This interplanar friction causes a release of energy---well, not energy exactly, but what I call meta-energy. You can think of this meta-energy as holding the different planes together the way fruit is held together in Jell-O. If the Jell-O vibrates, the fruit vibrates with it, and sometimes the vibrations cause two pieces of fruit to collide. Now the question is: what is making the Jell-O vibrate?"
¹²

"No," replied Jacob irritably. "The question is more along the lines of 'what the hell am I doing here, and why aren't there any pretzels?' Seriously, I don't know who you think I am, exactly, but I don't know anything about parallel universes made of Jell-O. I'm just a guy who analyzes explosions for the FBI. That's it."

"I think you know more than you let on," Finch said. "But perhaps I have strayed too far into the theoretical. The point is that that there is a reality outside the Jell-O. If you could get outside the Jell-O, you could see all of the fruit at the same time, from any angle. All of reality, past, present, and future. You could go anywhere, do anything, at any point in history. You could see the source of the vibrations and conceivably even affect them. You could create new universes or destroy them!"

Jacob sighed. "I don't suppose you can prove any of this."

"Well, of course not," said Finch. "That's the whole point of the CCD, isn't it? The chrono-collider device is designed to instigate a high-speed collision of ions, in the hopes of releasing and channeling chrotons. The OPB built the CCD in Los Angeles back in the thirties, but they never got it to work. A shame, too, after all the work that went into it. Buying up orchards, getting rid of the streetcars, building giant amusement parks as a cover for all the massive machinery and construction...It would have been easier to build it out in the desert, but our calculations told us that southeastern Los Angeles was the perfect site for the collider."

"Because of the convergence of the energy streams," Jacob said dryly.

"Yes," replied Finch. "Er, no. Well, sort of. The streams didn't quite converge in L.A., which ironically made it an ideal spot for the CCD. Two streams came very close to meeting in L.A., which caused a near-perfect balance of the meta-energy. Los Angeles was situated between the two streams the way Babylon was located between the Tigris and the Euphrates. But as I said, the Anaheim CCD failed. And now the meta-energy streams seem to have moved, so that they now cross somewhere in Glendale, sending the whole business out of whack."

"Tragic," said Jacob.

"No matter," said Finch. "The Anaheim collider was shut down decades ago. They never did get it to work properly, and after the 1950s the area was too densely populated to conduct tests there without anyone noticing. So about twenty years ago, we started laying the groundwork for a new collider, here in Kenya. The meta-energy streams are almost as well balanced here as in L.A., and there's the added benefit that the only people within fifty miles of here are primitive tribesmen with almost no contact with the outside world. If you want to conduct secret experiments aimed at discovering the fundamental mysteries of the Universe, this is the place to do it."

"And what do you need me for?" Jacob asked.

"Ah, yes," said Finch. "The crux of the matter. You see, Jacob, I've had a bit of a personnel issue. My chief physicist has unfortunately developed some misgivings about the project, so I need someone familiar with the design of the CCD to activate the collision sequence. That's where you come in."

"Um, no," said Jacob, shaking his head. "I'm not your guy. I haven't studied quantum mechanics for ten years, and even then I was no expert. I never even heard of a chrono-collider before today. I swear to God."

Finch laughed. "Yet you happened to be inside the L.A. collider only seconds before we blew it up. And you happened to be the only one of a team of government scientists to figure out that the Anaheim Event was not an explosion but an implosion. No, Mr. Slater, I'm afraid I don't buy it."

"You don't buy it?" Jacob growled. "You kidnap me, fly me to a secret hideout in Africa, and spend ten minutes spewing out the most ridiculous metaphysical bullshit I've ever heard, and now you've got the gall to tell me that you don't buy the fact that I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? You've got the wrong guy, you jackass. Even if I
could
turn on your damn collider, I wouldn't."

Finch frowned. "Hmm," he said. "Now you're starting to sound just like my last chief physicist. I guess I'll let you guys sort it out. Of course, I should let you know that I only have room on my staff for one chief physicist. The only other position I have open is lion trainer."

"You mean lion tamer."

"No, I mean trainer. The lions haven't been getting enough exercise lately. You'd be helping train them. I hope you brought some better shoes. Anyway, I'm sure it won't come to that. Come with me; I'll introduce you to Alistair."

"Alistair? You mean...?"

"Of course," Finch said. "Alistair Breem, your mentor. My ex-chief physicist. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to see you."

THIRTY-FOUR

Izbazel and Gamaliel stood waiting for the elevator doors to open. When they did, the two cherubim would grab Mercury and the Attaché Case of Pestilence and bring them both to Uzziel, who was waiting for them. Izbazel and Gamaliel had a bit of a falling out when Izbazel found out Gamaliel had been secretly working for Tiamat, but Uzziel had assigned them to this task because of their shared hatred for Mercury.

There was a sound like breaking glass somewhere up above. The two cherubim exchanged anxious glances.

"Go!" snapped Izbazel. "Check it out."

Gamaliel sprinted outside, catching sight of a figure against the darkening clouds, soaring away from a man-sized hole in a fifth floor window. The figure was carrying something square and gray, the size of a briefcase.

"Izzy!" shouted Gamaliel. "Get out here! He's got the Case! He's getting away!"

Gamaliel shot into the sky after Mercury, and Izbazel ran out into the courtyard of the WHO building. While Gamaliel pursued Mercury across the ominous sky, Izbazel remained on the ground and focused a stream of interplanar energy on Gamaliel. With the power of two angels propelling him, Gamaliel could travel twice as fast as Mercury, and soon the two were only a few feet apart.

"You're dead, Mercury!" Gamaliel shouted, grabbing hold of Mercury's ankle. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Mercury spun in midair. "That's Achilles, dumbass," he replied, bringing the metal case down hard on Gamaliel's head.

Gamaliel howled and released his grasp on Mercury. Lightning flashed not far away, followed shortly by a deafening clap of thunder, as Mercury darted away once again.

Gamaliel chuckled to himself. "You never should have left Tiamat," he yelled after Mercury. "She's taught me all sorts of useful tricks."

"Tell me all about it," Mercury called back, soaring away across the sky.

"How about this one, for instance," shouted Gamaliel. "Mercury rises...and Mercury
falls
!" He clapped his hands and a white flash lit up the heavens.

Christine, standing on the sidewalk not far from the WHO building, looked up in horror as a bolt of lightning traced a jagged path from the clouds to the earth---straight through the metal briefcase Mercury was holding. Mercury yelped in pain and then was silent, falling limply from the sky. He landed with a thud on the sidewalk a few hundred yards away. Pieces of the briefcase spiraled to the ground after him.

Izbazel took off running toward Mercury's figure, and Gamaliel shot out of the sky, alighting next to him. They stood over Mercury's body. Wisps of smoke arose from his charred clothing.

"Had to sacrifice the Case," Gamaliel said.

"No matter," replied Izbazel. "The important thing is that we take Mercury out of play. Let's get him out of here while he's still unconscious. Uzziel will be thrilled, even without the Case."

Gamaliel picked up the body, and the three angels disappeared into the clouds.

Christine, clutching a silvery briefcase to her chest, turned and walked away.

THIRTY-FIVE

Circa 1,800 B.C.

Hammurabi ended up with 346 Rules, 218 Maxims, 412 Rules of Thumb, 86 Strong Suggestions, and 24 Helpful Hints. It took him three years. Mercury convinced him that he had maybe overdone it a bit this time around, and eventually they whittled Hammurabi's Code down to 281 laws.

By the time they were done, the ziggurat was within weeks of completion.

"This is it!" Tiamat exclaimed. "The culmination of hundreds of years of sacrifice."

Mercury nodded. "A lot of men died building all those ziggurats."

"What?" replied Tiamat. "Oh, yes. Shame about the deaths. Anyway, exciting, isn't it?"

"I guess so," said Mercury. "It would be more exciting if I knew what the purpose of the ziggurats was."

Tiamat chuckled. "Well, I suppose there's no harm in showing you," she said. "You're going to find out soon enough anyway."

"Really?" asked Mercury excitedly.

"Yep," said Tiamat. "Come with me."

She led Mercury to the drawing room. She had her servants move the furniture to the edge of the room, revealing an ornate mosaic in the center of the room. "Leave us," she snapped at the servants.

Mercury had seen the mosaic before and had noted its similarity to an interplanar portal, but had assumed that the resemblance was only for aesthetic effect.

"Do you know what this is?" asked Tiamat.

Mercury shrugged. "Looks like a portal, but obviously it won't work. The only place on this plane where the energy channels converge is at Megiddo. Building a portal here would be pointless. Besides, the pattern is all wrong. It doesn't point to anywhere in the Universe."

"True enough," Tiamat. "It points to somewhere
above
the Universe."

"What the hell does that mean?" Mercury asked. "There's nothing above the Universe. The Universe is all there is. That's why it's called the
Universe
."

"I'm not going to bicker over semantics," said Tiamat. "The point is that the collection of planes we think of as the Universe isn't all there is. There's another level of reality, above or outside of all that. The spatial metaphor you use isn't important. The important thing is that it's real. Haven't you ever wondered where the Eternals live?"

Mercury sighed. "The Eternals? Really?"

"You still don't believe in the Eternals?"

He shrugged. "To me they seem like an unnecessary complication of the Universe. When humans don't understand something, they blame the gods or the angels. When angels don't understand something, they blame the Eternals."

"Mercury,
you're
an angel."

"I'm aware of the irony," Mercury said. "My point stands. Who do you think the Eternals blame when something goes wrong? It's an endless ladder of scapegoating."

Tiamat's eyes narrowed. "Mercury, don't take this the wrong way, but shut the hell up and listen to what I'm telling you. See these stones around the edge of the portal?"

Mercury nodded.

She went on, "You probably don't remember, but three hundred years ago, these stones were a murky greenish-gray. Almost black."

"Huh," Mercury said. He did vaguely remember that, now that she mentioned it. Now the stones were a pale rose color.

"The ziggurats," she said, "channel energy that vibrates at a higher frequency than the normal interplanar energy. Call it metaplanar energy. It's undetectable even to angels, but with the right equipment, its paths can be traced. Every ziggurat I build is an attempt to get the metaplanar energy focused on this portal. Unfortunately, the channels are difficult to trace with any precision, and the slightest miscalculation can send them wildly off course."

Mercury's eyes had glazed over.

"Pay attention!" Tiamat barked. "Look, think of it like this: you have a nail. The tip of the nail is stuck in the ground. Balanced on the head of the nail is a large wooden wheel, lying on its side. Your goal is to drive the nail into the ground. You are not allowed to touch the wheel, but you have a pile of small rocks that you may place on the wheel. What would you do?"

"I'd start piling rocks in the middle of the wheel," answered Mercury.

"Right," said Tiamat. "But now let's say you're not allowed to place rocks within six inches of the center of the wheel. Now what?"