The Bridge to Never Land (16 page)

CHAPTER 21

T
HEY WERE IN MARYLAND NOW
, southbound on I-81, J.D. carefully keeping their speed just under the limit. Aidan dozed in the backseat; Sarah, fighting fatigue, had been surfing the radio stations. As Mac had predicted, the strange story of the flying police van was attracting much attention. Finally, tired of listening to essentially the same report endlessly repeated, Sarah switched off the radio.

“We need a plan,” she said.

“I agree,” said J.D. “But right now I’m too tired to think. I need to focus on staying awake.”

“Will it help to talk?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, then maybe you can explain something. Remember when the police broke down your door?”

“And then knocked me down and dragged me out in handcuffs? I vaguely recall that, yes.”

“Okay, just before that, you said you thought that E in Molly’s diary was Albert Einstein.”

“Right.”

“And then you said you thought you knew what the bridge was.”

“Yup,” said J.D. “I don’t know what good it’ll do us, but I think I do. And if I’m right, I’m also pretty sure I know what the Starcatchers did with the island.”

“You do? Seriously?”

“I do,” said J.D. “But it’s going to sound weird.”

From the backseat, Aidan said, “We’re being chased by a huge flock of birds inhabited by an evil being. We made a police van fly. Nothing you say is gonna sound weird.”

“I thought you were asleep,” said J.D.

“I was,” said Aidan, sitting up, “but you guys started yakking.”

“So what did they do with the island?” said Sarah.

“I think they moved it,” said J.D.

“I take it back,” said Aidan. “Maybe I am still asleep.”

“What do you mean,
moved
it?” said Sarah.

“I mean they put it somewhere else,” said J.D. “Which is why nobody has found it in modern times.”

“They moved the whole island,” said Sarah.

“Yes,” said J.D. “And that’s not even the weird part.”

“It’s not?” said Aidan.

“No,” said J.D. “The weird part is where they moved it to.”

“I’m afraid to ask,” said Sarah.

J.D. took a breath, exhaled, and said, “I think they moved it to a parallel universe.”

“What?” said Sarah.
“What?”

“I saw that on
Star Trek,
” said Aidan.

“I know, I know,” said J.D. “It sounds like bad science fiction. But I think that’s what they did.”

“Okay, wait,” said Sarah. “Let’s say that’s even possible. We’re talking about, what, a hundred years ago. They didn’t have anything like the technology scientists have today.”

“True,” said J.D. “But they had two things scientists don’t have today. One was the most brilliant physicist, maybe the most brilliant scientific mind, in human history.”

“Einstein,” said Sarah.

“Him,” said J.D.

“What’s the other thing?” said Aidan.

“Starstuff,” said J.D. “I haven’t figured out what it is, but even in minute quantities it appears to contain vast amounts of energy, and it has some highly unusual properties—it counteracts gravity, it radically alters emotions; who knows what else? I believe Einstein harnessed that energy to create the bridge.”

“The bridge in the diary,” said Sarah.

“Yes. That’s what I was trying to explain when the police broke down the door. In physics it’s called an Einstein-Rosen bridge.”

“Who’s Rosen?” said Aidan.

“A guy who worked with Einstein,” said J.D. “They came up with a theory that there was a way to pass from one universe to another. That became known as an Einstein-Rosen bridge.”

“So there really is more than one universe?” said Sarah. “It’s not just science fiction?”

“We’re talking theory,” said J.D. “But, yes, it’s pretty much accepted that there are other universes, possibly an infinite number of them. And…hang on.”

“What?” said Sarah.

J.D. pointed to the rearview mirror. Sarah looked back; overtaking them fast was a police cruiser, lights flashing. “No,” she said.

J.D., his eyes flicking to the mirror, said, “Okay, I’m the one they really want. If he pulls us over, I’ll get out and walk back toward him. You guys get out and run.”

“Run where?” said Aidan, looking around. “We don’t even know where we are.”

“You’ll have to figure it out,” said J.D. “Get ready.”

Sarah got her backpack off the car floor and held it in her lap. The speeding cruiser was fifty yards back…twenty-five…ten…

J.D. was gripping the wheel, his body tense. The cruiser pulled up next to them. Nobody dared to look over. And then the cruiser passed them. Not slowing at all, it hurtled along the empty highway ahead, quickly disappearing from
view.

J.D. exhaled. “Guess he wasn’t after us.”
“I’m wide awake now,” said Aidan.
Sarah eased her grip on the backpack and leaned back
against the seat.

“Okay,” she said, turning to J.D. “If there’s more than one universe, where are all the other ones?”

“That part’s a little tricky,” said J.D. “It’s not a question of physical distance. You can’t get to them by flying in a spaceship. No matter how far you went, you’d still be in this universe. So what you need is a wormhole, which is another name for an Einstein-Rosen bridge. Theoretically, these wormholes are a path from one universe to another.”

“You keep saying
theoretically,
” said Sarah.

“Right, because nobody’s been able to confirm their existence. Also, it’s generally accepted that even if wormholes did exist, they wouldn’t be stable enough for matter to pass through. Unless…” J.D. paused dramatically.

“Unless what?” said Sarah.

“Unless they were stabilized by some kind of highly exotic matter, currently unknown to science.”

“Starstuff,” said Aidan.

“Yes,” said J.D. “Maybe Einstein figured out a way to use starstuff to create a stable bridge, then send the island through it.”

“A whole island?” said Aidan. “I don’t think so.”

“Be quiet,” Sarah told her brother. She turned to J.D. “How would that work, exactly?” she said. “I mean, is there, like, a tunnel somewhere? And wouldn’t it have to be huge to fit an island through it?”

“It wouldn’t be a tunnel, at least not what you think of as a physical tunnel,” said J.D. “I’m guessing it would be some kind of device, which generated a…okay, let’s call it a force field. I assume the device would have to be portable, so it could be transported to the island, presumably by ship.”

“The
Sea Ghost
!” exclaimed Sarah.

“I beg your pardon?” said J.D.

“Hang on,” said Sarah. She unzipped her backpack and dug out the diary. She opened the glove compartment and, using the light from its interior, began leafing through the pages. “Okay,” she said. “About halfway through the diary, after all the stuff about E creating the bridge, Molly starts talking about…okay, here she starts talking about an expedition. That’s where she mentions this
Sea Ghost
.”

“That must be a ship,” said J.D. “The expedition must have been to transport the bridge to the island.”

“Okay,” said Sarah, excited now, flipping pages quickly. “So then there are a bunch of entries about the expedition, and then…here, she says, ‘Received a telegram today, via radio from the
Sea Ghost.
One wonderful word, success. We are thrilled, especially E.’”

“So it actually worked?” said Aidan.

“Yeah,” said J.D. “I think they bridged the island.” He shook his head in wonderment. “Do you have any idea what this means? If this were published…”

The car was quiet for a moment, then Sarah said, “Does that mean the island’s gone forever?”

J.D. thought about it. “I suppose it depends,” he said.
“On what?”
“On what they did with the bridge. Does the diary say
anything about that?”

“Yep,” said Sarah, flipping more pages. “There’s a bunch of stuff in here about keeping the bridge secure.”

“So they didn’t destroy it,” J.D. said softly.

“No,” said Sarah, still flipping. “For years they kept it in…Berlin.”

“That’s where Einstein lived,” said J.D.

“Then…okay, listen to this. This is from 1933: ‘The situation in Germany has become intolerable. E and his family will emigrate to the United States. We have arranged for the bridge to accompany him, as well as J, who will assist in maintaining it.’”

“Wait a minute,” said J.D. “You’re saying the bridge came to the United States, with Einstein?”

“That’s what it sounds like,” said Sarah.

“And he was accompanied by somebody named ‘J’?”

“Yeah,” said Sarah, looking at the diary. “Why?”

“Okay, listen,” said J.D. “I’m named after my grandfather and my father. My grandfather was John; my father was Douglas. J.D. stands for John Douglas.”

“Um…so?” said Aidan.

“So,” said J.D., “my grandfather, John Aster, came to Princeton from England in 1933. The same year as the J in the diary.”

“That’s interesting,” said Sarah, “but it doesn’t mean that it’s the same person.”

“Do you know where Einstein settled when he came to the United States?” said J.D.

“No idea,” said Sarah.

“Princeton,” said J.D.

“Oh,” said Sarah.

“So wait a minute,” said Aidan. “Are you saying that this bridge thing is in Princeton?”

“I’m saying it’s possible that it once was,” said J.D.

“Do you think it could still be there?” said Sarah.

“What I think,” said J.D., “is that we need to get back in touch with Mac.”

CHAPTER 22

M
AC’S CABIN WAS AT THE END
of a steep dirt road that snaked up a densely wooded hillside a few miles outside the North Carolina town of Highlands. They reached the cabin at mid-morning, bone-weary from the long drive. Sarah snagged the bedroom; J.D. and Aidan crashed in the living room. All three were asleep within minutes.

As morning turned to afternoon, J.D.’s growling stomach woke him. He rummaged through the pantry, dusted off a big can of ravioli, and heated it up in a pot on the stove. The aroma roused Sarah and Aidan, who trudged into the kitchen zombie-style.

“What’s for lunch?” said Aidan.

“Ravioli from about 1987,” said J.D.

“Any other choices?” said Aidan.

“Spam from 1971.”

“I’ll have the ravioli,” said Aidan.

J.D. spooned the food into three bowls. They ate like wolves.

“Now what?” said Sarah, chewing her last forkful.

“Now I call Mac,” said J.D., pulling out his cell phone.

“Can’t the police trace your phone?” said Aidan.

“I’m just getting the number off my cell,” said J.D. “There’s no signal here anyway.” He walked over to a wall-mounted phone. “I’m hoping Mac didn’t disconnect this line.” He lifted the receiver, heard a dial tone, and punched in the number. “You guys want to listen?”

Sarah and Aidan nodded. J.D. hit the speaker button. They heard the
brrrr
of the receiving phone ringing, then Mac’s voice. “Hello.”

“It’s J.D., Mac. Sarah and Aidan are listening on speakerphone.”

“Are you all right?”

“We’re fine. We’re at your place.”

“Glad to hear it. From what I’m seeing on the news, you three are very much in demand up here.”

“I bet. We really can’t thank you enough for helping us out.”

“Not at all.”

“Mac, the reason I called is…okay. I’m just going to come right out and ask you. What can you tell us about my grandfather and the Einstein-Rosen bridge?”

There was a moment of silence, then, “Sounds as though you’ve been doing some sleuthing.”

“So you know something about it?”

“Perhaps you can tell me what
you
know.”

J.D. quickly summarized what they’d read in the diary, and his theory about what it meant. When he finished, there was a long pause on the other end.

“So,” said Mac. “You’ve concluded that they created a stable Einstein-Rosen bridge, which they then used to transport an entire island to another universe. And they did all this without computers—essentially without modern technology.”

J.D.’s face fell. “You’re saying I’m insane,” he said.

“I’m not saying that.”

“Are you saying it’s true?”

“I’m not saying that, either.”

“Then what are you saying?”

Mac sighed. “I’m in a bit of an awkward position here.

I gave my word to your grandfather that I wouldn’t reveal anything about his organization or his work with Doctor Einstein.”

J.D. was about to respond, but Sarah beat him to it.

“That’s real noble, professor,” she said. “Your word and all. But here’s the thing: J.D.’s grandfather’s organization was fighting against something evil. You knew that, right?”

“I was aware of it, yes.”

“Well, that evil thing is still around, and it’s after us. It’s partly our fault—”

“
Our
fault?” said Aidan.

“Okay,” said Sarah, “it’s mainly
my
fault. I went poking around into something I probably should have left alone.”

“Probably?” said Aidan.

Sarah ignored him. “The point is, we’re in danger,” she said. “And a whole lot more people are probably in danger too. And all we’re doing about it is running away. We don’t know what else we can do. But we can’t keep running forever. We really, really need to find somebody who can help us. So if you can, or if you know somebody who can, or if you know anything, please…” Sarah stopped; she was determined not to cry.

The phone was silent for several seconds. Then Mac said, “You’re right, Sarah. I apologize. The John Aster I knew would have wanted me to help.”

“Thank you,” whispered Sarah.

“I warn you,” said Mac, “I don’t know how much use this information will be,” said Mac. “But here goes. J.D., did you ever hear the name Pete Carmoody?”

J.D. frowned, then said, “Yeah…my dad used to talk about him. He was a maintenance man, right? Kind of a legendary character, worked for the Physics Department?”

“He was more than a maintenance man,” said Mac. “Much more.”

“How so?”

“Pete Carmoody held degrees in physics, mathematics, and electrical engineering. He forgot more about quantum mechanics than most professors will ever know.”

“Then why on earth did he work as a maintenance m—oh. He wasn’t a maintenance man.”

“No. That was a cover, an excuse to be around the physics lab, so he could work on Rosey.”

“Rosey?”

“That’s what they called the device. I’m talking about Einstein, Pete, and your grandfather. They were working on modifying it, totally hush-hush, when I joined the faculty. After your grandfather got to know me, he swore me to secrecy and asked me to help them with some calculations. It was a great honor.”

“Why were they modifying it?” said J.D.

“It had already served its original purpose, which was to relocate the island. But they no longer needed it for anything that massive. They wanted to make a smaller, more transportable version to be used purely as a portal to the island.”

“How small?” said J.D.

“I never saw the finished version,” said Mac. “After I’d done the calculations, they thanked me and told me, politely, that I was no longer needed. I’d gladly have done more—it was a fascinating project—but your grandfather wouldn’t hear of it; he said the less I knew, the safer I’d be. But if I had to guess, based on the early plans, I’d say the new Rosey would be about the size of a household refrigerator.

It couldn’t have been much bigger because of where they
kept it.”

“Where was that?” said J.D.

Mac chuckled. “I wasn’t supposed to know,” he said, “but I have good reason to believe that it spent the next few decades in Pete Carmoody’s basement.”

“What?”

“Yes. He had a room down there, very well secured, never let anybody in, not even his wife. I found that quite amusing, especially as time went on—the most astonishing technological achievement in human history, sitting in a basement that belonged to a guy who walked around in grease-stained overalls.”

“Is it still there?” said Aidan.

“I don’t believe so. Einstein died in 1955. The year after that, Pete quit and moved south. I’m pretty sure he took Rosey with him.”

“Why do you think that?” said J.D.

“Because he drove the moving truck himself. I saw him off; he had a big rig, looked to me like a custom trailer—all reinforced steel, massive locks. Pete’s wife, Fay, was most unhappy about it. She wanted professional movers. But he insisted. Gave me a wink as he pulled away. I think he knew I knew.”

Sarah and J.D. asked the next question simultaneously: “Where did he move to?”

“Florida,” said Mac. “Little town called Kissimmee.”

J.D. said, “And that was in nineteen…”
“…fifty-six,” said Mac.
“And how old was he then?”
“Mid forties, I guess.”
“So he’s probably not still alive.”
“I assume not, but I don’t know. I don’t even know if he
stayed in Florida. I sent him a couple of letters. Never heard back.”

“Professor,” said Sarah. “Let’s say the machine…Rosey…still exists. Would it still work?”

“I don’t know,” said Mac.

“But if it did work,” persisted Sarah, “would a person be able to use it to get to the island?”

“I suppose so,” said Mac. “Theoretically, at least. The problem would be the energy source. Rosey doesn’t run on electricity. To establish a stable bridge, you need something far more powerful.”

“An exotic substance,” said J.D.

“Yes.”

“The kind of substance that could, even in minute quantities, cause a police van to fly?” The speaker emitted a chuckle. “Something like that, yes,” said Mac. J.D., Sarah, and Aidan were all looking at the backpack now.

“One more thing, professor,” said Sarah.

“Yes?”

“How dangerous would it be? Using the bridge, I mean.”

Mac paused, then answered, “I don’t know. As I said, I was removed from the project before they finished the modification. I don’t know whether they ever actually used it.”

“So,” said Sarah, “you don’t know whether anybody ever got from here to the island alive.”

“No,” said Mac. “And there’s something else you might want to consider.”

“What’s that?”

“Even if you could get to the island,” Mac said, “I don’t know if there’s any mechanism there for getting you back.”

“Yikes,” said Aidan.

“Exactly,” said Mac. “If you’re even thinking about trying to use the bridge, you must…excuse me, I think there’s somebody at the door.” From the speaker came the sound of pounding and voices shouting.

“Mac?” said J.D. “What’s happening? Are you all right?” There was no answer from the speaker; only a crashing sound, and more shouting.

“Mac!” said J.D. “Are you okay?”
Mac’s voice was low, rushed: “I have to hang up now.”
“Why?” said J.D. “What’s going on?”
“The police are here. Don’t call back.”