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ELMO’S INVENTION: CHAPTER 5, ELMO’S PRISON
But first, a message from my poet friend, Steve.
Local poet Steve Kupferschmid has published a poetry chapbook with Kelsay Books entitled “Weight of Water.” The thirty-one poems in the collection reflect upon the joys and sorrows of youth and age, of love and loss. Compact in form yet rich in imagery, this collection offers an enjoyable, memorable read. Available from Amazon or any bookstore.
I have heard my friend, Steve, read his poems and they call to mind the poems of Billy Collins. Poems which tell a story, but at the same time, have a deeper meaning.
CHAPTER 5
ELMO’S PRISON
When Kingsley rose, everyone looked in his direction. It was not unprecedented that he would speak at a meeting, but it was a rare occurrence. What Kingsley said to the group would usually solve the problem at hand. Elmo prepared to hear great things from Kingsley and gain insight on how to fix his machine.
After once again clearing his throat, whether to gain everyone’s attention or because he found talking to be an effort, no one was sure, he began to speak. “Elmo, you must be rewarded for your effort. Although you have not accomplished what you set out to accomplish, and perhaps never will, your invention could possibly change the course of society. I have no doubt that mankind will greatly benefit from your invention, if they choose to embrace its benefits is a different matter. Only time will tell.”
Elmo, along with the rest of the group, was both puzzled and full of anticipation.
Kingsley continued, “However, I am a mathematician and not an ethicist and cannot predict the consequences of your discovery.”
Elmo said, “I am totally lost. You say I have made a great discovery, yet at the same time say that its use will produce ethical problems.”
“That’s correct, Elmo. Your invention, in my mind, would be the perfect prison.”
Elmo, along with William and James, stared at Kingsley in total disbelief, and then slowly began to understand what he was saying.
After a few moments of deep thought, Harold Kinter voiced his thoughts to the gathering, “Of course, I can see it now. Elmo, your invention, though unintended, could do away with prisons as we know them. Year-long sentences could be served in a matter of minutes. It would save society millions of dollars and save prisoners from the dangers inherent in incarceration.
“Think of it! No matter what the length of a prisoner’s sentence, the punishment could be delivered in a matter of minutes. Your invention could funnel money into projects that benefit society and save prisoners from harm.”
They all looked at Elmo. His visage was one of disappointment and disbelief. “I meant my invention to be a time machine; instead, you say I invented the perfect prison. I failed.”
Kingsley stepped totally out of character and attempted to comfort his colleague. “Elmo, some of the greatest discoveries in the world were made by accident. Look at all the lives that were saved by the discovery of penicillin. If Fleming had not noticed that petri dish with mold and dying bacteria, who knows how long it would have taken for someone else to discover that life-saving antibiotic.
“Think of the value of your discovery, and someday I am sure that you will determine the principle behind the device. With your invention, no matter the length of a prisoner’s sentence it could be served in minutes with virtually no expense to society. And when it comes to a death sentence, your machine can accomplish that too, but a death sentence is a death sentence no matter how it is accomplished.
Then James Forsyth began to speak, “I can think of another question which requires an answer. After a prisoner serves his term in your machine, what is his mental state? Is his mind the same as it was before the prison term? Or does his mind age along with his body? Although I cannot imagine how the mind ages with the lack of experience.”
Elmo said, “I can think of no answer to the question of mind aging. I feel this can only be determined with the test of a human subject. But I must add I owe a great deal of gratitude for introducing important questions I had not considered.”
“Your device could save society millions, perhaps billions of dollars and funnel the revenue into efforts that would better society. Education, medical research, providing for the elderly and that is only the tip of the iceberg of what could be affected by this machine. But I fear there will be obstacles to this scenario which I cannot anticipate.
“You see, our society is inconsistent. It professes one set of values yet lives by another. We say how important education is, but we do not support it the way we should, not to mention that the key to education is parental input. We pay lip service to medical advancement, but do not fund the conjecture that could become reality. And when a discovery is made, many times it is beyond the reach of those who would benefit. We say we value the elderly yet turn away when we could make their final years more comfortable.
“I fear there will be great objection to your discovery but cannot anticipate the form it will take. Good luck, Elmo. You have a difficult path ahead of you.”
ELMO’S INVENTION: CHAPTER 4, THE TINKERER’S CLUB
CHAPTER 4
THE TINKERER’S CLUB
With the experiments completed and his understanding of what he had observed, there was only one thing to do: Call a meeting of the Tinkerer’s Club.
Elmo moved in a circle of physicists, mathematicians and theoretical scientists at Los Alamos. They referred to themselves as the Tinkerers, one member or another constantly came up with ideas to explore and devices to construct. There were approximately ten members, the numbers would vary with interest and transfers to other parts of the country. Gatherings of the members would take place with as little as two or as many as all current members. It all depended on what the members’ specialty was or were too busy involved in their own ideas. They would ponder on their own time; ideas no one would pay them to ponder. The opportunity to contribute to the knowledge of man was their driving force, also if successful, develop a second income. They referred to their efforts as ‘cellar science’, although they did not all have cellars, but the original members all did. What they all had in common was the joy in letting their imaginations run wild without restrictions. They didn’t all work in cellars, some worked in garages and some in rented space, but they all shared a scientific curiosity.
Elmo was the youngest member. Age was not a factor for being accepted into the group, only a passion for science and a high level of intelligence. Most of the members had projects in progress, or theories they wanted to explore. When a member felt his work had come to a milestone he would call a meeting to be held in his laboratory. Those who would attend would study the results and give advice, if they could, but there was almost always encouragement to press on with the project.
Elmo took a week to prepare his presentation. It would usually involve the members’ theory, applications of the project and any problems which needed to be solved
On the night of the meeting four members arrived to analyze the conjecture Elmo would present.
Harold Kinter promised to attend the meeting. He was forever the first to a meeting for he had only one thing in his life, and that was his science. Physics was his field, and he had occasion to work with Elmo. A few years older than Elmo, Harold was portly and a bachelor and would likely remain so all his life. He spent his workdays and after work hours contemplating esoteric theories to occupy his mind. In another life, he could well have been a model for Sherlock Holmes. Although his habits did not readily welcome others into his world, he was not a loner. He chose to surround himself only with those who could stimulate and impact his thoughts.
Another member, James Forsyth, also agreed to come. Forsyth was also a physicist but the direct opposite of Harold. James was so gregarious that when someone met him, they immediately thought he was a salesman. He had the life of an average guy, married with two children. In his mid-forties, his chestnut hair had begun to gray at the temples. It was only when someone asked him what he did for a living that the impression of James Forsyth changed. He would begin talking about physics and couldn’t stop. Only when he opened his mouth about work did those around him realize he was far from the average guy.
Also due to arrive was William Dupree. He was a mathematician who also craved human contact. Now in his mid-fifties, and a bachelor, he was exceedingly short. At just over five feet tall, he found himself often ignored. Desperately wanting his voice to be heard, he found the Tinkerer’s Club an avenue to have a more intimate relationship with his colleagues.
Elmo was surprised when Kingsley Dasher also agreed to attend. Kingsley rarely attended meetings. When in attendance, he would make Harold Kinter appear to be the life of the party. Kingsley defined the term ‘loner’. Tall and thin, with a shaved head, he was at least sixty but no one knew for sure, well, no one also knew if he was married, had children, or anything of his background and education. Although he rarely attended meetings, when he appeared he was more than welcome by the presenter for Kingsley was considered ‘the brain’.
He would sit alone and listen to the presentation and arguments. Often during the course of a meeting, he would not say a word. When the presentation and discussions were completed, at times he would merely rise and leave, never saying anything. However, when he did speak there was total silence to grasp every word he uttered.
Two days before the meeting was scheduled to occur, Elmo informed Mildred that the Tinkerer’s Club would arrive to discuss his time machine. She responded, “I’ll have a pot of coffee and dessert ready for them.” She knew the coffee would be consumed, along with perhaps a second pot, but the dessert hardly touched, except for Harold Kinter. He definitely would enjoy a dessert.
The day of the meeting, Elmo made a decision on his way home. Mildred made him get rid of the rats and he agreed to. In reality, they were beginning to smell up the entire house, so he had no problem in agreeing. Also, it was work to maintain them. However, now he needed a subject to demonstrate his machine. Elmo recalled that his wife had, for some time now, been aching for a pet cat. She loved cats and often told Elmo, “If I had a cat it would keep me company while you’re at work.”
With this in mind, he stopped at an animal shelter on his way home and selected a six week – old orange and white tabby kitten. When he arrived home and walked into the kitchen carrying a cardboard box, the kitten inside began to meow. Mildred ran to Elmo and took the box he was carrying and peered inside.
“Oh, Elmo, you brought me a kitten.” She lifted the kitten out of the box, and hugging it to her breast, and was rewarded with instant purring. “Elmo, she’s beautiful. Thank you so much.”
Elmo asked, “What will you name her?”
“I’ll have to think about that for a while. I just hope you can tolerate the damage she’ll do until she’s old enough to be declawed.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem, Mil. You’ll be able to have her declawed tomorrow.”
“I can’t do that tomorrow. She’s much too young. She must be at least … Oh no, Elmo, you’re not putting her into your chamber, are you?”
“Dear, you made me get rid of the rats.”
“They were stinking up the cellar and I could smell them in the house every time you opened up the cellar door.”
“Mil, I need to demonstrate the time machine tonight to the Tinkerer’s Club. Look on the bright side; she won’t have a chance to cause damage with her claws.”
“Elmo, if anything happens to my kitten there will be hell to pay.” Mildred looked down at the little ball of fur and scratched her ears which intensified the purring, saying, “I’ll miss your kittenhood, but in all honesty, not the damage you might cause with those front claws.” With a final squeeze she gave the kitten to Elmo who put her back in the box and took her down to the cellar.
After dinner the Tinkerers began to arrive. The first was Harold Kinter, as was the custom. He accepted a steaming mug of coffee and a plate of cake and then descended into the cellar. In rapid order, James Forsyth and William Dupree appeared at the front door, accepted mugs of coffee, and then joined Harold in the cellar.
The last to appear, as also was the custom, was Kingsley Dasher dressed in a suit and tie. All the rest of the members were dressed casually. Kingsley had never been a casual person. Mildred was ready for him. “A cup of Earl Grey, Kingsley?” She knew he preferred tea.
“Why, that would be much appreciated,” he answered. After obtaining his beverage, he joined the rest of the group in the cellar to witness tonight’s presentation. He took his usual location of choice away from the rest of the group. He would appear to be indifferent to the entire event, but all the members knew he would be listening intently and would only comment when he thought his input would be of value or steer the meeting in the direction which was required. Stationed in an old recliner in a corner of the cellar, Kingsley tented his fingers and closed his eyes.
In the meantime, Harold, James and William gathered around Elmo’s machine with great anticipation. Elmo was identified as a valued member for his curiosity and intelligence.
Elmo began, “What you see before you, my friends, is my attempt to produce a time machine. I chose to construct it around an iron lung so that a person, a time-traveler, could comfortably recline inside. The intention was to have the time-traveler travel forward in time and return after a preset interval, however, the machine would remain here.”
Elmo went on to explain his theory for time travel and his calculations. The group was amazed as he discussed the basis of his theory for time travel. Kingsley listened through half-closed eyes. Elmo continued, “However, there is a problem and that is the reason I called this meeting. I have tested my device on a variety of animal subjects, including fertilized eggs. It was with the eggs that I determined the flaw in my machine. You see, the subject does travel forward in time but does not leave the machine. Rather, they age, and after the preset interval of the journey, they do not return to their original state but remain at their future age. Fertilized eggs become chicks. Chicks become chickens. Given the required length of time, rats become skeletons. I would now like to demonstrate this phenomenon.”
“Before you demonstrate your device,” Kingsley asked, “How does it create mass? As you describe your results, mass was created with your egg experiments and where did mass go when you produced a rat skeleton?”
Elmo’s face showed puzzlement. He had not thought of this question before.
The mass question produced total silence in the group. They all knew of the balance between mass and energy. That the formation of mass should result in a tremendous drain of energy from somewhere. By the same token, the loss of mass should result in a dramatic increase in energy. Enough energy to obliterate the area surrounding the experiment. The question of the production and loss of mass stymied the Tinkerers.
Suddenly Harold Kinter began to smile. He thought he had a possible answer to the mass question. He began, “There is only one possible explanation. Somehow, and I’m sure no can answer how, Elmo’s machine has been able to tap into the realm of dark matter and dark energy. I feel that can be the only explanation.
“The existence of this strange form of matter and energy is postulated and may someday be proven as fact. And can be the only explanation for the creation and deletion of mass which I can think of.”
The entire group pondered this explanation and were unanimous in their agreement.
Elmo then went to the cardboard box and picked up the kitten which immediately began to purr and lick Elmo’s hand. “This kitten, six weeks old, is tonight’s subject. I will set the journey into the future to six months. The length of the experiment will be five minutes.”
He deposited the kitten into the chamber, and after adjusting a few dials, initiated the process. As usual, the chamber lit up and filled with mist. After the haze cleared there stood a nearly full-grown cat with the identical markings of the kitten. Elmo lifted the feline out of the chamber and went upstairs to deliver the nearly mature cat to Mildred.
When he returned, Harold, James and William were excited and at the same time puzzled. Harold began, “This is truly amazing, Elmo. I’m sure you are not far from inventing a true time machine.”
William and James concurred with Harold’s observation. James added, “When the problem is worked out, this could be an invention of unimaginable proportions.”
Much to everyone’s surprise, Kingsley cleared his throat and began to speak.
ELMO’S INVENTION: CHAPTER 3, NEW TEST SUBJECTS
CHAPTER 3
NEW TEST SUBJECTS
The next day Elmo drove to Brooker’s Egg Farm. He pulled into the small, graveled parking lot. He liked old-man Brooker. He was a no-nonsense kind of fellow. Getting out of his car, Elmo surveyed the property. Row upon row of low-slung chicken sheds took up most of the land, and the air was full of the constant clucking of the residents.
Nate Brooker, owner of the farm, left his office and walked toward Elmo. Nate was ancient, grizzled and walked with a limp. He was a ‘take no shit’ kind of guy. If you tried to feed him a line or make small talk, he would shake his head and say, “For Christ’s sake, get to the god damned point, will you. I ain’t got all day.” And if you didn’t, he would leave you standing there, alone. Elmo was not talkative, and that suited Brooker just fine.
Extending his hand, Brooker asked, “How you doing, son? Come for a dozen of my fine eggs?”
Brooker was surprised when Elmo said, “Not today. Today I need six fertilized eggs.”
“Fertilized eggs! Are you gonna be raising your own chickens and stop buying from me? Maybe selling eggs yerself. You must be shittin’ me. Get your ass back in your damn car and get the hell off my damn property.”
To say that Elmo was taken aback would have been putting it mildly. “No, sir,” Elmo said. “I need the eggs for an experiment. I have no intention of raising chickens.”
Elmo knew about Brooker’s reputation, but this was a side of the old man he had never personally been exposed to.
“Well, young fella, I guess that’s okay. But if I find out that you’re shittin’ me, they’ll be hell to pay.”
“I assure you; the eggs will just be for an experiment.”
“I’ll hold you to your word, son.”
As they walked to one of the chicken sheds, Brooker asked, “How many you need?”
“I should think about six,” Elmo answered.
They entered the low-slung building, and Brooker pointed out, “This is where we keep the hens for mating.”
Elmo noted the roosters screeching at the top of their lungs.
Brooker began gathering eggs, about a dozen, and then motioned for Elmo to follow him to a small room. “This is where we candle the eggs to see if they’ve been fertilized.” He held the eggs up to the light, and after testing nine, had six fertile ones. “Here you are, son.” He handed Elmo a six-egg carton.
“How much?” asked Elmo.
The price surprised him. He was charged three times as much as he usually paid for a dozen eggs.
Brooker walked Elmo to his car and remade his point, “You sure you will use these eggs for an experiment and not hatch them. And what kind of experiment are we talking anyway?”
Elmo hesitated before answering, “Nate, the experiment is kind of complicated.”
“Well, what the hell isn’t nowadays,” Brooker asked.
“And, Nate, if my experiment works, some of the eggs will hatch.”
“Shit, I knew it.” Brooker was developing a slow burn, so Elmo rapidly said.
“Tell you what,” said Elmo, “if any of the eggs do hatch, I’ll bring the chickens back to you along with the empty shells. Also, I’ll return any fertilized eggs I don’t use.” Elmo thought this would assure Brooker that there was nothing but an experiment going on.
“No, son,” Brooker said. “For some stupid reason I guess I can trust you. I’m sure you won’t start a chicken farm. You’re not the type.”
Elmo could see a slight change in Brooker’s demeanor, the man appeared to relax, somewhat, and said, “Okay, son, I’ll hold you to your word.” With that Brooker walked back to his office and Elmo had his subjects for his next experiment.
Elmo was relieved to observe this vote of confidence. He walked to his car and was about to drive away when he realized he forgot to ask some very important questions. He got out of his car and went to the office, opened the door, and saw Brooker at work sitting at his desk.
“Mr. Brooker,” Elmo asked, “how long will it take the eggs to hatch, and what is the lifespan of a chicken?”
Brooker said, “Fella, you sure do ask a lot of questions for someone who does not intend to raise chickens.”
Elmo could see doubt replacing the relaxed expression Brooker had had before. Elmo quickly said, “This is just information I need to conduct my experiment.” And said once more, “ I am willing to return the chickens, if you want.”
With some trepidation, Brooker said, “That’s okay, son. If you screw me, I’ll find out about it and there will be hell to pay.” Brooker answered the questions and returned to his work.
Elmo was worried that he had asked too many questions. I could have looked that information up in a library,” he muttered.
The day Elmo purchased the eggs was a Friday. The following morning, after a hearty breakfast, and then lingering over coffee, Elmo said to his wife, “Mil, I think I have some grip on the question of what is happening in my time machine, but I need to perform three more experiments. Please, dear, come into the cellar with me. I want a witness to what I am about to attempt. You may be witnessing history.”
Mildred had been through this scenario so many times before. She loved Elmo, but knew how he would react when the experiment did not work, and she was sure that it wouldn’t although the fact that Elmo thought it kind of worked still baffled her. She did not understand his excitement after the rat experiment. With the prospect of something going wrong she knew he would sulk for days and remain to himself, and this was the beginning of the weekend, the only time they spent extended time together. Trying to inject some enthusiasm in her voice, she said, “Okay, Elmo, but don’t get too disappointed if you don’t achieve the results you expect.” She saw the usual glazed eyes before Elmo performed an experiment. He turned and went down the cellar stairs. She followed him not knowing what to expect.
After arriving at the bottom of the stairs, Mildred immediately noticed, sitting near the ‘Time Machine’, a half carton of eggs and said, “Elmo, these eggs should be in the fridge.”
“No, my dear, these are very special eggs, historic eggs, and putting them in the cold might kill them.”
“Oh, Elmo, how can you kill an egg?”
“Mil, these are special eggs. They have been fertilized.”
Elmo looked at his wife and from the expression on her face knew an explanation was required. “You see, Mil, I think I can explain the results of my rat experiments. I’m about to attempt the definitive experiments that will confirm my theory.”
Mildred smiled and prepared herself for the worst. She was beginning to plan what she would do for the next two days without her husband. That’s at least as long as it would take, she thought, him to get over a failure.
Elmo, not catching the doubt on Mildred’s face, placed two eggs into the chamber and began adjusting dials, and then started the process. Once again the interior of the chamber produced great flashes and filled with mist. When it cleared, there stood two baby chicks.
Mildred looked with wonder at the results, and said, “Oh, Elmo, they’re so cute. Now your machine can kill rats and hatch eggs.” She was quite afraid to ask the next question but couldn’t help herself. “Elmo, are you happy with the results?”
“Extremely, my dear. There are two more experiments to perform which will completely verify what the machine is doing.” With that he selected two more eggs, was about to remove the chicks, but decided to leave them in the chamber. Once again he adjusted the dials, and began the experiment, once again the chamber filled with sparks and mist. When it cleared, there stood four chickens clucking their heads off.
Mildred saw the manic gleam in Elmo’s eyes. She saw the same look when her mother’s china teacup disappeared. “Maybe that’s enough,” she said to Elmo. What she was really saying was maybe he should quit while he was ahead, if he was ahead. She actually couldn’t tell. But she also knew nothing she could do or say would stop him now.
She could see the joy in Elmo’s face, and he began doing his little dance, as he shouted, “It worked! It worked!”
Mildred did not understand the reason for Elmo’s excitement. “Elmo, I thought the subject of the experiment was supposed to travel into the future, or perhaps the past. Something definitely happened, but they stayed in the chamber.”
“I know, Mil. There still remain some details to be worked out, but don’t you see, time changed within the chamber. Granted, the subject was supposed to leave the chamber and travel through time, but for now, the time change is occurring in situ.
Mildred was confused, she asked, “In whatto?”
“In situ into the future, and then reappear after the end of the experiment, at the end of the, my dear, it means in place. The subject in the chamber was supposed to disappear preset length of the trial, exactly as he was before he left.”
Mildred said, “Okay, Elmo, but that didn’t happen. The eggs didn’t go anywhere. They just hatched in the chamber.”
“Thanks for noticing that little detail,” Elmo responded. “Granted, this experiment is not free of problems, but I feel I am on the right path to creating a time machine. You see, the subject ages in accordance with the time set for the subject’s journey. That is why, in my first series of experiments, when I sent the rat twenty years into the future a rat’s skeleton was the result.
Leaving the four chickens in the chamber, Elmo reset the dials and then stood back with great anticipation. He began the experiment and when the mist cleared all that was left were four chicken skeletons.
Mildred began to hate this infernal machine, whatever entered it would eventually die, rats, chickens, what was next? She believed in her husband, and something was definitely happening, but whatever it was it wasn’t good. She was amazed when Elmo began jumping up and down and dancing around the cellar. He shouted, “It works! It works! He then grabbed Mildred continuing to dance and shout.
THE UNIVERSE IN BALANCE: A SHORT STORY, NATURE RULES
Accepted for publication by The Corner Bar in March 2024. One of the first stories I wrote, and it took me many years to get it right.
God does not play dice with the universe.
—- Albert Einstein
God not only plays dice; he also sometimes throws the dice where they cannot be seen.
—- Stephen Hawking
THE UNIVERSE IN BALANCE
Prof. Maxwell Lowman sat in his MIT office deep in thought. It was mid-afternoon, the blinds were lowered and closed creating the setting he desired. The sole illumination a reading lamp on his desk, a desk littered with books, research papers and correspondence. His office, lined with bookshelves contained works reflecting his eclectic interests running from poetry to the latest volumes in astrophysics.
With his salt and pepper eyebrows and mane of unruly gray hair he looked every part of the college professor. Lowman was an expert on the ‘Big Bang’, as if anyone could claim that title, he often thought. An expert. Might as well be an expert on heaven. Another doctrine born of conjecture. He often mused, “Why did the ‘Big Bang’ take place? How did it give birth to the universe? Questions yet to be solved. And to some, the answers relying on faith. The same as the existence of heaven. But unlike heaven, there was proof, in theory, that the ‘Big Bang’ did take place but for what reason did the universe exist? The question of why the universe came into existence is unanswerable. How is a matter of conjecture.
Lowman’s mind continued on a journey he had come to enjoy. Where some unknown force, some would call God, held hands with science. How could the universe come into existence from nothing? He tried to imagine space before the ‘Big Bang’. Nothing existed. Time did not exist. Light did not exist. Before the ‘Big Bang’ did space exist. Some thought, before the ‘Big Bang’ space did not exist but then unfolded. Did anything come before the existence of nothing. He spent hours musing over these questions thinking, that perhaps, science could not and should not answer everything. Some mystery should remain.
* * *
Lowman was conducting his first graduate class of the semester covering the ‘Big Bang’. His lecture would be full of theory, but in reality, no answers. During the course of his lectures he encouraged questions. And these questions would determine the structure of his future lectures. And this year, with the important upcoming experiment, he wanted to introduce the Higgs boson.
During his lecture, one of his favorite pupils from the past year, Joe Hess, raised his hand and asked, “The ‘Big Bang’ is a mystery to me.”
Lowman said, “Well, you are not alone.”
Hess continued, “We know it happened, or else we wouldn’t be here. But where did all the matter in the universe come from?”
Lowman anticipated this question for it was asked every year. He began pacing along the front of the lecture hall to organize his thoughts for opinions were constantly changing. He began, “Stephen Hawking has a relatively new theory that all matter in the universe was created by the ‘God Particle’. In 1964 Peter Higgs predicted the existence of the Higgs boson which, in a book written by Leon Lederman, was referred to as the ‘God Particle’. The boson is central to our understanding of the structure of all matter”.
Lowman anticipated Joe’s next question, “But where did the ‘God Particle’ come from?”
“That, young man, is the question which remains unanswered. The theory is that the ‘God Particle’ populated the entire universe in the smallest fraction of a second at a speed far beyond the speed of light. Of course, it is accepted that nothing can exceed the speed of light, but we must remember, that when this occurred light did not exist. Time did not exist, so anything is possible. When the ‘Big Bang’ occurred, it is theorized that the universe consisted of equal parts of dark matter, which is now accepted to exist, and visible matter. For reasons unknown, the amount of visible matter surpassed the amount of dark matter. And that is the reason that the universe – stars, black holes and you and I – exist.
Lowman concluded his lecture by telling the class, “I am sure you are aware that tomorrow a unique experiment will be conducted. It will attempt to duplicate the material which existed immediately following the ‘Big Bang’. And perhaps create the particle which existed at the moment of the ‘Big Bang’, the ‘God Particle’. He concluded the lecture, and as the class exited the lecture hall, erased the white board of his lecture notes. One fact he saved for his future lecture was that the universe was expanding not contracting as was originally thought. So rather contracting to the point of, perhaps, another ‘Big Bang’ it will expand into single atoms wandering in space. Nature destroyed along with all the balance which once existed. It made no sense.
* * *
Lowman made his way to his office, excitement in his step. His anticipation of tomorrow’s experiment filled his mind with the possibilities it may contribute to understanding the birth of the universe. He would be counting the hours, the minutes until the experiment was initiated. Wondering at the knowledge to be revealed. It was an experiment in which MIT was a participant, along with a host of other prestigious institutions from all over the world. Prompted by his excitement, he scheduled a meeting with Dr. Volachek, head of the Physics Department, to share his enthusiasm. With a few hours before the meeting was to take place, he returned to the solitude of his office to contemplate what tomorrow’s experiment might reveal. Now he raised the blinds to the dismal gray of the winter’s afternoon.
While sitting at his desk, his eyes wandered over the bookcases lining the walls of his office. He had a love for books since he was a child. During his youth they were his entertainment, and as he grew older, his source of knowledge. He enjoyed being among the thoughts and ideas of the great minds contained in these volumes. Now, with tomorrow’s experiment, he may be witness to a great advancement in the understanding of the universe. The answers to questions great minds had pondered.
With the Hubble telescope and a host of great technologies being developed, questions were being answered and knowledge being gained more rapidly than ever before. The discovery of dark energy and dark matter, once radical concepts, have changed the science of physics. The question is, why does this mysterious dark matter and energy exist? Lowman sat in his office with the only sound the ticking of the old clock sitting on his bookshelf.
As the time of his meeting with Dr. Volchek drew close he donned his overcoat, and through the crisp winter afternoon, made his way to the dean’s office. He had known Dr. Volchek for years. The dean was a good friend and knowledgeable colleague. He entered the office and Dr. Volchek rose and welcomed him with a handshake. “Good to see you, Max. Glad to have someone with whom to share the excitement of tomorrow’s experiment.”
Lowman answered, “I just hope nothing goes wrong. It is an extremely complicated endeavor. This is an international effort with billions of dollars invested. Failure would be heartbreaking.”
The dean replied, “With every experiment there is a risk. But even a failure can produce knowledge. Now relax. Just look forward to the progress we may make in understanding the mysteries of our universe. Tomorrow that device nicknamed, The Hand of God, with gold atoms racing into one another to achieve unbelievable temperatures, will hopefully cause protons and neutrons to break apart into quarks and the gluon particles which hold the quarks together. And then, we hope, the quark – gluon plasma will duplicate the densest material ever created. The material which existed at or immediately after the ‘Big Bang’. Perhaps a Higgs boson. What a mighty contribution to physics that would be. Creating the material unknown to the universe for 18 billion years.”
* * *
That night, at home, his mind was like a whirling dervish. At dinner Max’s wife, Martha, could feel the excitement her husband generated. She said, “Max, calm down. You’re going to make yourself sick. Indigestion will not help you appreciate tomorrow.”
You’re right, Martha. You’re right.”
They finished dinner and spent the remainder of the evening reading. Later, as Martha prepared for bed, Max lie there, his mind working furiously. Once Martha was in bed, she turned off the bedside lamp, kissed Max and said, “I love you.” And he returned that thought. It was their bedtime ritual and meant a great deal to them both. In the darkened room Max turned onto his side. He knew it would take some time to fall asleep, feeling like a kid on Christmas Eve.
The next morning, having spend a fitful night of anticipation, Lowman prepared for work. Before leaving he kissed his wife on the cheek and softly said, “I love you. You make my life worth living.” Martha slightly stirred and smiled.
* * *
The drive to campus seemed to take forever. Lowman had trouble maintaining the speed limit. His excitement transferred to his foot. He parked his car and entered one of the large lecture halls reserved to watch the experiment take place on closed – circuit television and hoped for some kind of immediate results. Dr. Volchek saw Lowman and motioned for him to come over and sit in the seat Volchek saved for him.” The scientists at the ‘Hand of God’ began the introduction of those present at the site and relate a brief history of the journey which led to the experiment.
When that was completed, the experiment was initiated.
Lowman began to consider what knowledge might be discovered but that thought was never completed. In an instant Lowman no longer existed. The universe no longer existed. The balance of nature was revealed. All Lowman’s questions were answered and the answers would remain forever unknown.
Lowman had always been amazed how nature maintained balance. The balance also applied to the Higgs boson. And true to that balance, the experiment produced an anti – Higgs boson. In a thousandth of a trillionth of a second dark matter, using dark energy, compressed all the matter of the universe into the anti – Higgs boson. The entire mass of the universe was now compressed into a minute particle of unbelievable mass. This process had been repeated for an infinite number of times. For infinity. The anti – Higgs boson sat alone in the emptiness of space. And after billions upon billions of years would morph into a Higgs boson prepared to initiate another ‘Big Bang’.
THE END
AND THE BEGINNING
FICTION SEEKING TRUTH: A SHORT STORY CONTAINING A TOUCH OF REALITY
Accepted for publication by Bewildering Stories in July 2008.
For those fans of horror, you may recognize multiple incidents described in this story which are not fiction.
FICTION SEEKING TRUTH
Stewart Kingman was a very successful writer of horror stories. What made his fiction popular was that the stories contained a glimmer of truth. He always included an element of nonfiction in his fiction, just enough to add a macabre reality. His mind would wrap around events and give bizarre possibilities to a mundane world.
Kingman would tell his wife Talia, “I feel there is some truth behind all the stories I write. Perhaps some of the unworldly situations I create could be true. Or maybe all this horror shit is just getting to me. People read my books to escape to a world that scares the hell out of them, and they enjoy that world because they can always close the book to escape the horror. What if some of the horror actually existed outside the book? That’s the reason JAWS was so popular – the book was frightening but possible. You could close the book and jump in the ocean and fiction could suddenly become reality and your ass is shark bait.”
“Sure, Dracula had his roots in Vlad the Impaler, but old Vlad was just a weird dude, nothing supernatural. Why does all this shit get published, and some of it is real shit. I think I’m going to take a lesson from my old friend Houdini and look for the truth behind the horror.”
Kingman was fascinated by the life of Harry Houdini, living a public life spent creating illusions and a private life seeking the truth behind the illusion, performing as an escape artist and at the same time a debunker of charlatans claiming to be able to communicate with the dead. Houdini constantly tried to communicate with his dead mother and his efforts only resulted in exposing one fake after another. As he was dying, he told his wife he would beckon to her from the grave but as far as anyone knows, he never succeeded.
Stewart did not discuss his theory of the truth behind fiction any further with Talia, but she knew that he was doing research on the topic. He had a vast library of folklore he used to give him ideas for his stories. He was now spending a great deal of time rereading some of his favorite volumes.
Along with this work, he was doing something new. He had begun getting involved with his fan mail. He had a publicist with a staff of five who handled the vast quantity of mail he received. Letters arrived requesting a copy of his picture and relating how Stewart Kingman was their favorite author.
He decided to take a closer look at his fan mail himself to see if anyone mentioned a true occurrence, something that defied known reality.
Kingman rapidly discovered why he did not get involved with his fan mail. He received letters from fans who were mating with monsters, having their minds controlled by alien forces or by your run-of-the-mill witch, which might also led to mating. He corresponded with them all, seeking out the faintest glimmer of fact the wacko stories might contain, but there was none.
The letter Kingman was searching for arrived late that spring.
Dear Mr. Kingman,
I can’t say I’ve read all your books, but the ones I’ve read I’ve enjoyed.
I was wondering if you ever thought of writing a story about someone who had something happen to him and wound up being able to control the future.
Yours truly,
Frank Talbot
Kingman wrote to Talbot requesting more detail. A few weeks later another letter arrived from Talbot, a longer letter containing much more detail.
Dear Mr. Kingman,
It took me a long time to sit down and write this letter. On one hand, I can’t believe I’m corresponding with you, on the other hand, you’ll think I’m nuts.
I’m a lineman in Massachusetts and last winter we had an ice storm from hell. I was up on a pole, after working I don’t know how many hours, when I wasn’t careful and touched a live wire. My work crew told me the rest of the details. They lowered me from the pole and I wasn’t breathing. They took turns doing CPR and got me going again. The ambulance came, and on the way to the hospital I tried to leave this world again. The ambulance driver gave me a jolt with the defibrillator, and I returned to the living once more.
Now comes the weird part that you might not believe but I swear its true.
I was off from work for a couple of weeks, and it’s during this time that strange things began to happen. I was sitting in the living room when the TV suddenly came on. On the TV was a news special and the guy reading the news looked like living death, definitely a strange looking dude. Just before the set came on I was thinking about my kid brother who’s in the army stationed in Iraq and how great it would be to see him. Then this guy on the TV, looking like an extra from Dawn of the Living Dead says the 85th armor division is coming home – my brother’s outfit. The screen then went blank.
Here’s the really creepy part; the TV wasn’t plugged in. So now you’re sure I’m nuts, but I swear it’s the truth. It’s happened a few times since. My mind wanders as I’m sitting in front of the TV when Mr. Death Warmed Over comes on the air and makes an announcement. I don’t know where the broadcasts come from and I don’t know how the TV got unplugged. Maybe I had some sort of seizure and unplugged it before the broadcast began. I don’t know.
Anyway, I’ve included my telephone number if you want to call me.
Yours truly,
Frank Talbot
Kingman read the letter over and over. The guy sounded like the genuine article. He gave Talbot a call and arranged to pay him a visit. The drive from Kingman’s home in Maine to Talbot’s in Massachusetts would not take long and might be a nice getaway. Kingman loved long drives and who knew, some of this might actually be true.
On a pleasant May morning, Kingman set out for Frank Talbot’s house. He drove onto I-95 planning to take the interstate into Massachusetts. The traffic was unusually light, and as he approached the Massachusetts boarder, Kingman found that the only vehicle other than his was a tractor-trailer hauling a sailboat, shrink – wrapped in blue plastic down the highway in front of him.
Kingman had the cruise control set on his SUV and the tunes playing. He was slightly daydreaming when the daydream became a nightmare. The sailboat somehow fell off the trailer and was pin wheeling down the highway heading straight for him. The weight of the rudder caused the boat to spin faster and faster. What followed was pure luck. He swerved to the far left lane of the three-lane highway with the spinning boat rapidly approaching him. When he was sure he was going to die, the mast swept over his SUV inches above the roof. If the boat had been a little smaller and the mast closer to the ground as the boat lay on its side, he would have become a giant Kingman kabob. He pulled onto the shoulder and sat there until his shaking hands could again grip the steering wheel. The rest of the trip was uneventful.
He found Talbot’s house without much trouble and pulled into the driveway of a modest ranch. He was about to knock on the door when it opened and there stood Frank Talbot, an average looking guy about thirty years of age. Before Kingman could say hello, Talbot said, “Glad the sailboat missed you.” This caught Kingman totally by surprise.
“How in the hell did you know about the boat?” but Kingman instantly knew the answer to his own question. “You saw it on TV.”
Talbot replied, “I had to find a way to convince you that what I was experiencing was real. I must have invented the accident in my subconscious, something that would cause you no harm but get your attention. I caught Mr. Death’s broadcast just before you pulled into my driveway.”
“You definitely got my attention,” Kingman said. The two men then sat and talked for hours, and when Kingman left he already had the outline for a book. Deciding it would be fiction but with an introduction dealing with the facts behind the fiction, Kingman began writing the book.
It was late summer, and the writing was progressing well. Kingman loved walking the country roads near his property. On an August evening, he set out walking and thinking of the day’s writing and what he would put down on paper next. He never heard the approaching van.
Kingman awoke in the hospital with more pain than he had ever experienced in his life. A young doctor told him of his multiple fractures but reassured him that he would walk again. The doctor also told him that his heart had stopped twice in the ambulance due to the trauma his body had endured. “They defibrillated you,” the doctor said.
Kingman’s recovery took a long time and rehabilitation was painful. Shortly after the accident he learned that the driver of the van, already cited twice for reckless driving, blamed Kingman for the accident. He said that Kingman shouldn’t have been walking on the road. Kingman felt a rage he had never felt before. His pain was excruciating. The painkillers destroyed his writing. He spent hours just dwelling on the accident, the insane accusations of the van driver and how the whole thing had changed his life.
Fall arrived, the changing leaves brightened the countryside, and Kingman took his first steps with the use of two canes. Every step delivered agony, but now he knew he would walk again. He still hated the driver that struck him but suppressed it as he tried to overcome the pain and hoped he would be able to write soon.
The trees were now bare; fall was setting the landscape for winter. Kingman still could not write. He would spend hours thinking of plots and characters, but when he sat down to put words to paper, nothing would come.
Late one afternoon, as the shadows lengthened, Kingman sat alone in his family room. A short walk had left him exhausted and his legs were screaming with pain. Suddenly, the TV lit the room. On the screen, an announcer looking near death related the news of a suicide and produced a picture. It was a picture of the driver that struck him. Kingman glanced at the TV’s plug and a slight smile crossed his lips.
THE END
WHAT DA VINCI SAID
WHAT DA VINCI SAID
In my last post I mentioned that I worked to leave a record. I feel most creative people (I feel it takes some nerve to call myself creative) somewhere in the corridors of their mind consider that purpose while they are producing their work.
Where my thoughts on this subject began was after I read Walter Isaacson’s excellent biography of Leonardo da Vinci. If you were at all interested in da Vinci’s life and work I highly recommend this book.
It is thought that if da Vinci had been alive today he would probably been on medication. He had difficulty completing a project. His most famous work, the Mona Lisa, was commissioned by a husband as a portrait of his wife. The husband never received the portrait, and da Vinci carried it with him wherever he went for the rest of his life occasionally adding a few brush strokes.
He was known to be a hard worker and when someone asked him why he worked so hard he said, “I want people to know I was here.”
WRITER’S WEBSITE: WRITER BEWARE BLOG
WEBSITES FOR WRITERS
Every year WRITER’S DIGEST published 100 best websites for writers. I took the list published in 2025 and selected what I thought were some of the best for this year and not repeated from last year. Here is one of them.
Before I post the next website for writers, which I feel is extremely important, I want to mention two other websites, one which no longer exists and one which does.
The one which no longer exists was Editors & Predators. This was an excellent website to check on publishers and agents to see what their reputation looks like. The reason I mention it is that I check it every so often since it ceased posting but every time I check I get a message that they are coming back.
The other website that still does exist which is of great importance is Absolute Water Cooler. This is a site for authors by authors. If you are going to deal with a publisher or agent you can go to this site and see what experience other authors have had with them. I will post a more extensive discussion of this site in the future.
Writer Beware Blog
WriterBeware.org
Covers scams and suspicious businesses that prey on writers.
Supported by Science Fiction & Fantasy Association, the Writer Beware Blog and WriterBeware.com aides writers in recognition frauds. Also helps writers stay current on publishing news.
WRITER’S WEBSITE: AUTHORS GUILD
WEBSITES FOR WRITERS
Every year WRITER’S DIGEST published 100 best websites for writers. I took the list published in 2025 and selected what I thought were some of the best for this year and not repeated from last year. Here is one of them.
The Authors Guild
AuthorsGuild.org
Oldest and largest organization for published authors.
Supports free speech and advocates for fair contracts. Also protects against AI.
Has five membership levels of varying price points.
WRITER’S WEBSITE: EQUITY DIRECTORY
WEBSITES FOR WRITERS
Every year WRITER’S DIGEST published 100 best websites for writers. I took the list published in 2025 and selected what I thought were some of the best for this year and not repeated from last year. Here is one of them.
Equity Directory
EquityDirectory.org
Created by Literary Agents of Change and it’s free. Helps querying authors find BIPOC (Black, Indigenous and People of Color) agents.
Gives information on agents participating in various communities such as the Association of American Literary Agents as to what queries they are seeking and offers connections to their websites.
THE BEST WRITER’S WEBSITE: DUOTROPE
WEBSITES FOR WRITERS
Every year WRITER’S DIGEST published 100 best websites for writers. I took the list published in 2025 and selected what I thought were some of the best for this year and not repeated from last year. Here is one of them.
Duotrope
Duotrope.com
If you follow my blog you have heard about Duotrope. I have used this website for years to find publishers. It is a powerful tool. Once free, it now costs $50 a year, but if you are a serious writer or artist or in need of an agent, this website is a must.
They list over 7,600 active agents and publishers. They also offer a submission tracker.
To find a publisher, agent or outlet for your work you fill out a form detailing what type of outlet you are looking for. Then you run a search and a list of places which could use your work is produced. With each site listed is a link to that site. This list is also constantly updated.
If you are serious about your craft this website is a must.
I might also add, from an article in Poets & Writers, there are 4000 literary journals in this country.
So many opportunities to get your work published.
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