people are dead tonight after violent rioting in the streets of Paris. A United Airlines flight from London to Washington crashed early this morning, killing everyone on board. The bloom spreading across the Atlantic Ocean has advanced miles in a day. The World Council has approved an Energy Plan despite a veto by the OPEC countries. Power failures lasting over six hours caused factories to shut down in the Midlands today. The Test match at Lord’s cricket ground was canceled today as ten members of the Australian team have been hospitalized with food poisoning. Tomorrow’s weather: sunny in patches, increased chance of storms.” A pause. “Rioting French students were joined by workers today in Paris …”
Peterson did not listen. He felt light and unsteady. The nurse came in with a tray. He signaled her to leave it on the bedside table. Something in the news had disturbed him and he wasn’t quite sure what it was. It must be the news of the bloom. And yet he felt no reaction as he ran that past again.
“United Airlines flight 347, London to Washington, D.C., encountered turbulence on its approach to Dulles airport and crashed in late afternoon. Transmissions from the pilot were garbled. There seem to have been seizures of both pilot and copilot in the moments before the crash. Witnesses said the plane appeared to explode as it struck the trees. There were no survivors. This latest in a series of airline disasters has—”
Jesus! His palms were sweating. He pressed the buzzer for the nurse. She did not come at once. He held the button down and shouted “Nurse!”
She came in hurriedly, leaving the door open.
“What’s the matter now? Why, you haven’t even touched your broth.”
“Damn the broth. What day is this? Is it Wednesday?”
“Yes, it is. But are you—”
“I want a phone. Why isn’t there a phone in here?”
“It was taken out so you wouldn’t be disturbed.”
“Well, get it back.”
“I don’t know if I’m supposed to do that …”
“What’s going on here?” The first nurse bustled in again.
“Sister, Mr. Peterson is asking for a phone in here.”
“Oh no, we don’t need that. Don’t want you to be disturbed, do we?”
“I’m being disturbed now,” he shouted. “Get me a phone!”
“Now, now, Mr. Peterson, we can’t have that …”
“Listen, you stupid cunt,” he said clearly and tensely, “I want a phone in here right now or I’ll have you fired!”
There was a shocked silence and the two women backed from the room, eyeing him warily. He lay back, shaking. Through the door, which they had left open, he could hear moaning.
Presently an orderly brought in a phone and plugged it in. Peterson took a sip of water and fought the rising nausea. He dialed his secretary’s number.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
SEPTEMBER 25, 1963
Gordon was walking down the hallway, on his way back to the lab, when he overheard the remark. Two full professors were talking in low voices. “—and as Pauli said, it isn’t even wrong!” one finished as Gordon approached. They saw him and instantly fell silent. Gordon knew the story. Pauli was a prominent, highly critical physicist in the first half of the century. He had remarked, about a scientific paper, “This work is so bad it’s not even wrong.” Meaning, it began and ended in midair; it was so badly formulated it could not be tested. Gordon knew instantly they were talking about him. The Life article had done its work. When he reached the end of the hallway there was more murmured talk behind him and then a final bark of laughter.
• • •
Penny brought home a copy of National Enquirer and left it out for him to see when he came in late. On the front page was a headline, NUCLEAR CALL FROM OUTER SPACE and beneath it, Prominent Scientists Contact Other World. There were two photographs of Saul and Gordon, evidently by the Life photographer. Gordon threw it in the trash without reading it.
• • •
At the beginning of classes there was a party for the physical sciences faculty, to mark the opening of the new Institute for Geophysics building. The staff sterilized the bowl of a fountain on the lawn outside. Hugh Bradner and Harold Urey filled it with a potent mix of vodka and fruit juices. Gordon had thrown his invitation away with the usual university news notices; Penny discovered it and insisted they go. He wanted to get some rest, but her nagging made him pull on his lightest jacket and, for the first time,