by Christie and Larry deSouza

"Hey, Prof! Congratulations!"

"Yeah, thanks! My boy just called me."

"Boy or girl?"

"Heh. You don’t know my son. Untrusting, manipulative..." He shook his head affectionately. "He won’t tell me until I leave the lab to go and see for myself. As if my work is more important than this!"

"Well, you have been putting in a lot of overtime, Prof. Why don’t you take off right now? I can wrap this up."

He looked around the cluttered lab, feeling the familiar tug to stay just one more hour. He had to smile. His son knew him too well. Rescuing his hat from a slanting stack of journals, he absently halted their forward progress with one hand while the other hand put on his hat, then cleared his coat of several reminders to himself and stuck them on the wall. The lab assistant began picking up from the floor the daily accumulation of the professor’s notes.

"Don’t move those! I’ll need them tomorrow!"

"That’s okay, Prof. I’m just clearing a path to the door. I’ll put them right back where I found them before I go - promise! ...Uh, you missed one," he said, indicating a note stuck to the professor’s tie.

"Thanks, Lance," he said with a smile, peeling it off and adding it to the collage already on the water cooler. "See you tomorrow!"

He was surprised to see that it was already night when he left the University of St. Canard Physical Sciences Building. "Hm. Curious. Not a cloud in the sky," he thought.

Soon he pulled his car up to a small suburban house on the outskirts of the city. The door flung open.

"Dad! I’m glad you were able to make it so soon!"

"Like I had a choice, Bill!" he said good-naturedly while giving his son a hug.

"C’mon in. There’s a little duckling that wants to meet you!"

As they entered the home, they were greeted by a petite female duck. Prof noticed that despite her dark hair being uncharacteristically out of place and her face showing signs of a recent excitement, she still managed to carry herself with her usual calm dignity.

"Congratulations, Wendy! How was the hatching?"

She hugged her father-in-law. "Actually, it went quite quickly, once it started. This little one’s quite a fighter!"

"Wait here, Dad." Bill ran into another room and emerged a moment later, delicately carrying a small bundle in his arms. Face beaming, he gently pulled the blanket from the sleeping duckling’s face. "Dad, meet your granddaughter, Gosalyn Waddlemeyer."

He was speechless. He was numb. He stared in disbelief into the face of his grandchild and couldn’t move. A flood of emotion filled him. Joy. Love. Pride. Grief. Tears welled up in his eyes.

"Dad? Are you okay?"

"You named her after your mother."

Bill smiled at his father. "I didn’t think you’d mind."

"No! But... no, it’s perfect. She’s perfect."

"Would you like to hold her?"

Hands shaking, Professor Waddlemeyer carefully took the bundle from his son. Her tiny face and bright red hair were so familiar, it was unsettling. "She looks just like her."

"Considering the kicking she did to get out, I figure she’ll be a Quack Fu instructor like Mom, too."

The professor stared into her face, overcome with the memories. It was a long time before he could speak again.

"Son, we should talk."

Dinner at the Waddlemeyer household that night took longer than expected, but they were happy for the regular interruptions and distractions that the newest member of the family provided. It was well into the night when Wendy and Bill were able to tuck little Gosalyn into her new cradle and sit down for a well-deserved rest.

"Okay, Grampa. What exactly do we have to talk about?"

Prof let out a heavy sigh as he dropped into an armchair. "Well, Son, this day was bound to arrive eventually. If that little one of yours is anything like her grandmother..." He stopped and seemed to reconsider his words. "Don’t take this the wrong way, but your mother and I were not exactly telling you the whole truth about our lives."

"What do you mean? It didn’t look like you were hiding anything from me."

"That’s because we were good at our jobs."

"Your jobs? Hang on, Dad. I saw you teaching at the University. I even remember sitting in on a couple of Mom’s Quack Fu classes. Do you mean to say there was more?"

Professor Waddlemeyer shifted nervously in his chair and nodded. "Where should I begin?"

It all started when I was a grad student at the University of St. Canard. I was fortunate enough to be assisting a brilliant scientist named Dr. Elizabeth Ardo in her research to achieve a revolutionary new means of transportation. Dr. Ardo believed that if we could convert objects into quacktron particles, they could then be teleported in a process that she called Quacktron Particle Instantaneous Transference. The university must have believed it was possible too, since its funding was generous enough to allow for more than the meager allowance a graduate student normally received. At the time I didn’t question why I was the only grad student chosen to work on this project, except perhaps that the university was trying to keep such a radical research project out of the public eye. Admittedly, it was the stuff science fiction was made of. Dr. Ardo was a fine task-master, and our hopes for a breakthrough that spring were very high.

It was early one Saturday afternoon, and I had just spent the morning at every garage sale in town collecting up "junk" for us to use in our experiments. Well, she may have been expecting junk, but I had managed to find a fascinating array of items. I remember there being two pairs of nice leather shoes (one black one brown) and a pair of tap shoes (size 6), a pink ceramic elephant decorated with flowers which reminded me of my favourite South American orchid, an adequate imitation of a 1921 Tiffany lamp, and a glass vase with markings on it that made me suspect it could have been an authentic antique...

"Dad..."

"Huh? Yes, Bill?"

"You’re getting off topic. We want to hear the story - that stuff really isn’t important, you know."

"Hmph. Well, all right. But her instructions were to find expendable items made out of a variety of materials so that we could test the teleportation device on them. Expendable or not, I wanted to be sure we had items of good quality and distinct features so that we could study the effects of our experiments on them."

"Point taken, Dad," he said with a tolerant smile.

I walked into a lab that was strangely free of its usual clutter and nervously looked around the quiet empty room, wondering where Dr. Ardo had disappeared to. Suddenly she popped out from behind an open cabinet door, looking disheveled, with an enthusiastic smile on her face. She grabbed my arm, forcing me to drop the large box I had been carrying, and dragged me over to her invention.

"Noel! It works! Look at this!"

She had a tool kit in her hand which she must have gotten from the cabinet. Placing it on the table, she aimed the barrel of the QPIT machine at it and pulled the switch. There was a brief flash as it was converted into quacktron particles. Nothing new yet, I thought, since we had already gotten to this stage days before. I was about to say as much when her grip on my arm tightened. Without warning, the toolbox appeared to fall through the table. I let out a gasp, staring in disbelief at the unaffected tabletop and at the space where the tool kit had been. She looked at me triumphantly. Shaking myself out of a stunned silence, I let out a cheer.

"Amazing!" I yelled. "You did it!" Involuntarily, I checked under the table just in case and saw nothing there. I ran to the controls to see what adjustments she had made, and listened eagerly as she explained the details. Her words were like lights coming on in a dark room; the reasoning behind them was so ingenious, and it seemed she couldn’t explain fast enough to satisfy my hunger for the information. This had to be one of the most momentous scientific breakthroughs in history.

"Can we bring it back now?" I asked excitedly.

"Well... no."

"But, uh... where did it go?"

"I haven’t quite figured that out yet."

"Oh," I said, now looking at the bare shelves of the lab. "Exactly how much stuff have you sent through the table?"

"Nothing irreplaceable!" she said, conveniently sidestepping my question.

"Do you have any idea where they went?"

"Who knows? Once we’ve completed the reintegration module we’ll get them back."

"Well, okay," I said, eagerly dragging over my morning’s treasures. "There’s only one way to find out. Let’s get started!"

A week went by. Then two weeks. We sent everything, including the kitchen sink, through the QPIT ray. Still we couldn’t get the converted objects to reintegrate in the new module. I was beginning to wonder if this pile of stuff was accumulating in somebody’s living room, the bottom of the ocean, Planet X, or if they were simply being disintegrated.

Eventually, I made a simple but important discovery. Dr. Ardo was tweaking the reintegrator on the other side of the lab, hoping to receive the next object I was preparing. At her signal, I pulled the switch and watched an electric blender fall through. Suddenly inspired, and somewhat carelessly I admit now, I grabbed the cord on impulse and yanked hard, pulling the blender back through the table.

"What are you DOING!?!" Dr. Ardo shouted across the room. She ran over to me and cut the power. "Please tell me I didn’t just see you put your hand in the path of the ray!"

"I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking... But look!" I held up the blender. "I pulled it back!"

I could tell she was torn between anger and fascination. Luckily, I knew her well. She dutifully paused a moment to give me a disapproving look before taking the blender and examining it intently.

"It doesn’t feel any different. It doesn’t seem to have changed at all." She looked at me. "How does your hand feel?"

"Fine." I’m not sure if I would have admitted to it feeling any differently, considering the circumstances, but I was telling the truth. The ray had no effect on me.

"Did your hand go through the table at all?"

"Of course not! I wasn’t that careless!" She looked disappointed. "I’d be willing to try, though," I said quite truthfully.

"Tempting..." she said with a smile. She considered for a moment. "Why don’t we try a movie camera? We could tie a rope to it, set it on record and drop it through."

"Great! I’ll go find one."

I was so sure that this plan would succeed that I was devastated with the results. Despite the collection that should have accumulated there, what appeared on our film was nothing more than uneven lines moving across the screen. The doctor and I sat there in the dark for some moments after the tape had run out, listening to the loose end of the film flap around the projection reel.

"That’s it!" she said, standing suddenly. "I have to know what is on the other side. I’m going through."

Both Bill and Professor Waddlemeyer laughed. "The unknown is my job, Wendy. I leap into it every day!"

"I’m just surprised you hadn’t jumped through already at this point!" said Bill to his father. He turned to Wendy. "If you’ve ever seen Dad at work, you’d know that when he wants to find answers, he’s oblivious to everything else."

Wendy looked aghast. "But things were disappearing! You didn’t know where they were going! Didn’t you consider that this might be dangerous?"

"Come to think of it, I guess it was, but I was too excited at the time to think about that, and Dr. Ardo must have thought it was worth it. I still think it was worth it - I just wish it hadn’t turned out the way it did."

I got straight to work reconfiguring the equipment so that a larger area would be affected by the beam. We decided to focus it on an interior wall of the lab so that she could control her passage by walking through. I had just started pulling out the wires and dragging the unit to its new position when I was interrupted by the Dean of Sciences, Dr. Quailman. He had the unnerving knack of knowing exactly when we didn’t want to be disturbed. As usual, he expected us to drop everything and give him our undivided attention. It was a lucky thing Dr. Ardo was not in the lab at the time. Dr. Quailman may have done his job well, but she was not one of his greatest admirers. I don’t think it was anything personal, she just felt any administration was a necessary evil.

"Well, well, well! Aren’t we looking busy today!"

I never knew what to say to him, so I just smiled politely and continued struggling with the equipment.

"And how is our pet project progressing?"

"It’s going really well," I said, happy to have a familiar topic of conversation. "Fantastically, in fact. It’s getting very exciting."

"Oh? Has there been another breakthrough?"

"Well, no, but once Dr. Ardo crosses through the beam, we should be able to figure out where this stuff’s been going."

Of course, I shouldn’t have been so quick to tell Quailman about her plans. When I was younger I was somewhat naive and too truthful for my own good. It really hadn’t occurred to me that Quailman shouldn’t be hearing about her plans yet. I realized my blunder a few seconds later, when Dr. Ardo came in just as Quailman was responding to my comment.

"What?" he said incredulously. "Do you mean to say that she plans to go through the table herself?"

"Well, no, not the table. You see..."

"Dr. Quailman!" Dr. Ardo interrupted me quickly. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit? I hope that Noel hasn’t been keeping you from your busy schedule." She shot me an icy glance.

"What’s this I hear about you planning a trip through a table?" he asked accusingly.

"Obviously my assistant has exaggerated my intentions," she said with a smile, pretending to make light of the subject. "I never planned on leaping blindly into the unknown. I merely expressed a desire to explore our latest findings first-hand."

"Well, you can forget your desires! This project is too important to the university to allow you to jeopardize it with recklessness."

"I’m not reckless," she said, all pretense of civility gone from her face.

"Call it what you like, but if anything happened to you, this project could be ruined, and you should know that there are a number of interested parties. Your success could mean great things for this university."

"Interested parties? You mean the government, don’t you?" she said flatly.
"Frankly, yes. Just between you and me, the federal government has contacted me on several occasions, and been kept apprised of your progress."

She looked at him skeptically. Her expression would have been warning enough, even for me.

"Liz... surely you can see the profit in a commercial application of your work."

Dr. Ardo’s voice was low and even with contained anger. "Profit? Commercial application? What about the benefits to science? To society?"

Dr. Quailman held up his hand and shook his head. "I don’t think this is the time and place to be discussing this, Dr. Ardo. Perhaps we should continue in my office."

"Perhaps we should." She turned to face me. "Noel, finish the modifications to the equipment without me, then lock up the lab. We won’t be getting any more done tonight."

"Better yet," interrupted Quailman, "leave the equipment where it is until I talk some sense into her."

The line of tension across her shoulders was obvious as Dr. Ardo followed Quailman from the lab. I briefly considered doing as she asked anyway, but thought better of it. I was just as frustrated by the delay, and resolved to think before I spoke from now on (a skill I am regrettably still trying to master). As much as I hated to do it, I left the QPIT in the middle of the room and locked up.

"It wasn’t one of the easiest things I’ve done, and I certainly didn’t sleep well that night either."

"I don’t care for that Quailman character! How could he treat her like that?" Bill commented.

"Well, this was back some time ago, and female scientists, let alone women in any high position, weren’t as common. Some amount of sexual discrimination was part of the struggle for them. I never saw Dr. Ardo as a woman, though, just as an incredibly brilliant mind. I felt the same way about your mother."

"I thought you were the brilliant one in the family, Dad."

"You were too young to really know her, Bill. In her fields of interest, your mother was unequaled."

"What happened at the lab the next day?" asked Wendy.

My concern for Dr. Ardo made me come in early. From the moment I arrived, I could tell something must have happened. For starters, I was always the first one in, and the door was already unlocked.

"Dr. Ardo?"

The only response was a repetitive clicking sound from the tape machine in the far corner. Entering the room, I realized there was broken glass on the floor, and the file cabinet and fire extinguisher were missing. Also, the QPIT machine had been moved to the other side of the room and aimed at the wall. Damn, I thought. She went ahead and did it anyway, and I missed it! I wondered how much trouble she was getting herself into, since I knew Quailman would never have permitted it. I went over to her invention and saw that the wires leading to the power supply had been ripped from the back of the machine. Also there was a rope on the floor - one end was securely fastened around a vertical structural support beam, the other end lay loose on the floor. Suddenly dying of curiosity, I called for her again, but there was still no response. If she did go through the wall, she must have returned to have disconnected the wires. But if that was the case, where was she now? It finally occurred to me that I should be concerned. I called a third time, looking in supply rooms and down the hall, listening carefully for a reply. The clicking sound in the corner continued, so I went over to check it out.

The reel-to-reel tape machine was still set to record, the receiving spool full, and the free end of the tape hitting with each turn. The microphone was plugged in and propped up next to a walkie-talkie. Why had she not turned the tape recorder off at the conclusion of her experiment? I realized with apprehension that perhaps it was never finished.

Hoping that the tape contained the answers to all my questions, I looped it back into the empty reel and pressed the rewind button.

It was just my luck that Dr. Quailman chose this moment to enter the lab with two other unrecognizable but official-looking people. I remember they had well-tailored business suits. The taller one wore glasses, and had mismatched socks. The other wore a tie pin that I recognized as one given to members of the air force in the war.

"You there! Young scholar!" I sighed inwardly. Quailman only called me ‘young scholar’ when he was putting on a show. "We are looking for Dr. Ardo."

"Well, uh, she’s not in the lab right now," I stammered, wishing that I could think of something to say other than the truth. "But I will let her know you dropped by."

"That’s okay, we can wait," he said. I realized with horror that the old windbag meant it. I was desperately trying to figure out a way to get rid of them when he said, "While we’re here, why don’t you give us a little demonstration?"

"Uh... meaning no disrespect, doctor, but I’m not sure Dr. Ardo would like me to do that. She seems to have made some adjustments to it since I left last night, and it may not be safe to operate the machine without knowing exactly what she has done."

"Well, perhaps you can just show it to us then, and explain what it’s all about." I took a second look at the other visitors, wondering who they were to make Dr. Quailman so persistent this morning. Perhaps my expression was more suspicious than I had intended, but Dr. Quailman finally got the idea and introduced them to me. "Where are my manners? This is Mr. Wakefield and Mr. Yardley. They are on the Board of Directors for the university, and are interested in seeing where all this funding has been going. Gentlemen, this is... uh..."

"Noel Waddlemeyer," I said, fighting the urge to roll my eyes.

"Of course. Noel Waddlemeyer, Dr. Ardo’s graduate assistant." Turning back to me, he said, "Do you have any idea when we can expect Dr. Ardo to make an appearance?"

Once again I was mentally kicking myself for ever having told him anything. As I was trying to concoct a suitable lie, the tape finished rewinding and all attention in the room was drawn to it as the loose end began its rhythmic flapping. I quickly turned off the machine, hoping they wouldn’t ask me about it. Instead, Mr. Wakefield decided to point out the broken glass and empty shelves.

"Have you recently been robbed?" he asked, obviously concerned.

"No, no! We have been using the equipment in our experiments."

He looked surprised. Slowly he made his way over to the QPIT. "And the broken glass?"

"Just a little accident - I haven’t had a chance to clean it up yet."

"What is this rope doing here?"

"Uh... what rope?" Now I was getting nervous. I was not a good liar, and it was becoming painfully obvious, but I had to cover for Dr. Ardo’s absence. It was the least I could do, considering I had gotten Dr. Ardo in the middle of this in the first place. I joined Wakefield at the other side of the lab, followed by Quailman and Yardley.

"This rope." He pointed to the floor.

"Dr. Ardo must have used it after I left last night."

"Is this the machine?" Mr. Yardley asked, indicating the QPIT.

"...Yes."

"Am I correct in assuming it has been aimed at the wall?"

"That’s what it looks like, I suppose."

"It was my understanding that the equipment was not to be moved," Dr. Quailman said accusingly.

"It wasn’t! ...I mean I didn’t. Um, that also must have happened after I left."

Wakefield was now in a different area of the lab. "Can you explain the fire extinguisher lying on the floor here?"

"Uh... gee, that’s where it went."

"Let me guess, it happened after you left?" said Dr. Quailman.

"I suppose so."

"Mr. Waddlemeyer," said Dr. Quailman, changing his tone. "I want some straight answers. What exactly was going on here last night? You are obviously hiding something from us, and I do not appreciate it."

"I’m sorry, doctor, but I just can’t tell you. I left the lab immediately after you yesterday, and this morning, you came in not long after me. What you see here is what I saw. I have no explanations."

"A likely story."

As I looked around the lab trying to buy time, I saw Yardley threading the tape back into the tape player. "Hey, what are you doing?"

"I am familiar enough with Dr. Ardo’s procedures to know that she prefers to record her experiments. I saw you rewinding this tape as we entered, and I thought it could shed some light on the matter. Do you have any objections?"

"Well, Mr. Waddlemeyer...?" said Quailman menacingly.

"Well, no... but... but..."

"Dr. Quailman," said Wakefield, "obviously Mr. Waddlemeyer is overwrought. Perhaps you could fetch him a glass of water?"

"What?"

"A glass of water for our young friend, here."

Quailman looked baffled, and more than a little disappointed. "Sure, okay," he said hesitantly, and slowly made his way to the lab door. He looked back once as if to add something more, thought better of it, and continued out into the hall. After a moment, Wakefield crossed the room and locked the door.

"Well, now that we’ve gotten rid of our Junior Woodchuck, maybe we can find out what really happened to Dr. Ardo last night."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Obviously you are not comfortable talking in the presence of Dr. Quailman. I assume there are some things about this experiment that you would not like him to know?"

My nervous expression answered for me.

"I thought so. We have been monitoring Dr. Ardo’s progress for years. If this breakthrough is true, it is vital for us to take more direct steps to protect our interests."

My curiosity got the better of me, and I heard myself saying, "Pardon me, but you don’t act like average Board members. Who are you really?"

The two gentlemen exchanged a long glance before Yardley reached into his coat, pulled out a slim wallet and passed it to me. I flipped it open and my eyes bulged as I saw the official government crest next to the photo and thumbprint.

"What is SHUSH?"

Yardley adjusted his glasses. "It’s a secret branch of the government set up to deal with issues of national security."

"Well, they were no Derek Blunts... In fact, now that I’ve mentioned him, Derek hated how he was portrayed in those movies."

Bill’s eyes bugged out. "You mean you..."

"Don’t let me digress, Son," Noel interrupted with a satisfied smile. "Fact is, SHUSH wasn’t all that glamorous. Basically they were called in on the most important cases, and ours qualified."

It hadn’t occurred to me until then that the QPIT could be such a threat to national security. The fact is, the ability to instantaneously transport anything to anywhere had astounding implications. In retrospect, I feel stupid for not having realized that beforehand.

"We have been in on this project ever since Liz submitted her proposal, and have been funding it through the university. If such an invention were to succeed, we would certainly not want it to fall into unfriendly hands."

I agreed with him there, but many things were bothering me at this point. I pride myself on having a keen eye for observation. This just didn’t seem to add up. "Hang on a minute! Dr. Ardo never mentioned anything to me about government involvement. And if this project was so carefully monitored, how is it that I knew nothing about it? As her assistant, wouldn’t I have been considered a possible threat?"

Yardley calmly pulled out a notebook and began reading from it. "Noel Waddlemeyer, age 24, 42a Waterdown Road, undergraduate degree in Physics from University of Notre Duck, graduated with honours, has been working with Dr. Ardo for three years, partial to redheads, enjoys jazz, favourite cereal Frosty-O’s..." He looked up. "Need I go on?"

"I guess that won’t be necessary."

"Of course we took some pains to do a background check on all the applicants to this project. For security reasons we only wanted one, and you were it."

"Thank you... I think."

"Can you tell us what you believe may have happened to Dr. Ardo?"

"I think she used the QPIT on herself." I quickly summarized the progress we had made in the past month, as well as Dr. Ardo’s meeting with Quailman up to the point when they left the lab and I locked it up.

"... But when I got in this morning, someone - I’m assuming it was Dr. Ardo - had moved the machine to its current position. The machine was off, but the tape recorder was still on, and I’m beginning to worry for her."

We were interrupted by the sound of Dr. Quailman pounding at the door. Yardley pulled the tape from the machine while Wakefield went to unlock the door. Taking me by the elbow, Yardley gave me a quick wink then addressed Dr. Quailman in a serious tone. "We will need to take Mr. Waddlemeyer back to the office for further questioning. I assume there is no objection?"

"Of course not! And if I can be of any further assistance...?"

"We’ll be in touch."

As we passed Quailman, Yardley casually reached out and lifted the glass of water from his hand. He took a quick sip and handed it back with a nod of appreciation.

When we reached their office, we wasted no time in listening to the tape. Unfortunately, its contents only created new mysteries...

"QPIT log entry number 837. I have sent my assistant home early. I do not want him to be involved in an experiment of which I know the administration would not approve. However, I feel the risks are acceptable in light of the potential gains to be made. I have reconfigured the QPIT beam to a wider field, and aimed the machine at a wall so that I can control passage through. I have also secured one end of a rope to a beam and tied the other end around my waist as a precaution. I am engaging the QPIT..." The hum of the QPIT was now behind her voice. "To test the new configuration, I will be pushing an empty file cabinet through the wall." There was the sound of metal scraping against the floor, then silence again. "It appears to have made a successful transfer," she said, obviously pleased.

"As I plan to go through myself, I will put my hand through first as a test..." There was a brief pause. "There is no resistance, no change in sensation... I have pulled my hand back and there is no difference in it that I can detect."

She took a deep breath. "I am stepping through the wall..." There was a crackle on the tape as she began reporting through the walkie-talkie. "I seem to be in a doorway... Fascinating! There is an actual door frame, apparently connected to nothing. I can see quite clearly behind me into the lab. I hope this transmission is making it through. I am looking into a swirling tunnel of energy stretching endlessly in either direction. The film we shot now makes sense. The sides of this tunnel are banded in contrasting lines of force. Wait! There’s the file cabinet! And our kitchen sink! And there’s the lab telephone! It seems that the objects that we have been transporting with the QPIT in our experiments have ended up floating around in this tunnel, although now that I look carefully, I cannot account for all the objects that I can see here." There was another pause. "...I wish I had brought some binoculars. I think I can make out another door frame in the distance. Possibly two... and another in the other direction. Could these be doorways to other locations in our world? Or gateways to other worlds?... This is incredible!

"Wait a minute... I believe I see a figure in the distance moving towards me... It is definitely moving under its own power, and approaching quickly." Another pause. I could feel the tension mount in the room. "I can’t believe it... It looks just like..." Her last words had an eerie echo to them.

"Here! Take my hand!" The sound quality changed again as the walkie-talkie was deactivated and we heard footsteps on the cement floor of the lab once more. "Who are you?... I’m Dr. Elizabeth Ardo... Who are you?... I’m afraid that answer is unacceptable..." The next minute of tape was filled with the sounds of a struggle, followed by retreating footsteps. Then silence.

I spoke first. "Who was she talking to? I didn’t hear any other voice but hers."

"Perhaps the stranger she met was telepathic?" Yardley suggested.

"Whoever it was," Wakefield interjected, "it wasn’t very friendly."

"Do you think she’s okay?" I asked.

"That’s difficult to say at this time."

"Whatever it was must have shaken her very badly," I said. "I’ve never heard her talk so abruptly to anyone. Not even to me after I told Quailman about her plans."

"Did anyone else hear the echo?" Wakefield asked.

"Yes, come to think of it. Perhaps we should listen to that part again." We listened to the passage, and the echo remained.

"Do you think there is something wrong with the tape?"

Yardley looked at the machine and shrugged. "It doesn’t appear to be damaged. Perhaps it has to do with the object that was approaching her, or interference with the walkie-talkie."

"Is there any way we can turn up the volume more, or cut through the background static?" I suggested. "I’d really like to know if we can make out what the other person was saying."

"No. It was a very frustrating evening. We spent several hours studying the recording, but the quality of audio equipment back then was pretty limited. All we had to work with was the tape from the lab, and it was just a standard reel to reel set up. Not very high tech."

"So there was nothing more for the entire run of the tape?" asked Wendy. "How eerie."

"Actually we did make one small discovery a short segment later in which we heard the faint sound of footsteps and possibly objects being moved about the lab. The rest of the reel, some four hours worth, was dead silence."

I arrived back at my apartment late and spent the rest of the night restlessly tossing and turning in my bed. I couldn’t shake the sick feeling in my stomach. Finally deciding that sleep wasn’t getting me anywhere, I headed over to the lab early. To my shock, I found a box containing my notes in the corridor, and a padlock on the door. On the inside of the glass on the lab door was a letter from Dr. Quailman officiously closing Dr. Ardo’s lab and ending her line of research until further notice. Numbly, I picked up my belongings and began to shuffle out of the building. I was met on the steps of the Sciences Building by Wakefield and Yardley, who crossed over to stop me.

"Where are you off to this morning?"

"The lab has been closed by the administration," I answered. "Weren’t you aware of that?" Actually, until that moment I had thought they were responsible for the order to lock up the lab. The dark expressions on their faces had corrected my faulty assumption. Wakefield nodded once to Yardley and began heading back across the campus. Mr. Yardley took my box from me and turned me back up the steps to the lab.

"My associate will be back in a few minutes. He’s just gone to clear up a misunderstanding."

Soon afterward, we heard rapid steps approaching. Mr. Wakefield rounded the corner of the hall with a red-faced Dr. Quailman in tow. He barely acknowledged my presence as he sputtered and fumbled for his keys and the padlock. As the chain slipped from the door he was silenced by the grim faces of the SHUSH agents, and scurried off, leaving me alone with them.

"We simply can’t afford to lose any momentum on this project," Wakefield explained. "If there’s a possibility of a gateway to other places or even worlds, we need to explore it. The implications of this discovery are far more serious that a mere instant transportation device."

"We always assume the worst," Yardley added, "so we must be prepared in case hostile forces already have access to this technology."

"We know how much you yourself have contributed to this project. You are a very promising scientist, and we would like you to continue with Dr. Ardo’s research until she shows up herself, or until we have a more conclusive resolution to this experiment."

"But ... but I don’t have time to take over her experiments full time!" Yardley and Wakefield looked at me expectantly. "I’m finishing up my dissertation, and I have to prepare for my oral exams."

"Oh yes," said Wakefield calmly. "Well, not to worry. We have some influence with the university here, and I don’t think you’ll need to be worried about running a little over your present schedule. Besides, SHUSH would be interested in hiring you after your graduation. Your prospects are very good, Mr. Waddlemeyer."

"Hiring me?" I said numbly. "Do you mean to say I could work for SHUSH when I graduate?"

"Well, technically you’ve been working for us for the last three years. We’ve invested a great deal in you. We certainly don’t want you working for anyone else."

"Dear," Wendy said, "I think that’s the point of your father’s story."

"That’s right. I worked for SHUSH up until my retirement a few years ago. I still do the odd favour for them now and again."

"You...?" Bill gawked. "You were a SHUSH agent?"

"For most of my life. You have to understand that I couldn’t tell you while you were growing up. It was a dangerous thing to be related to a SHUSH agent. There were always forces trying to stop you by threatening your family, and I certainly had my share." He paused for a moment, lost in a sad memory. "It was just safest for you to be in the dark about it. Now that I’m retired, I’m no longer a target, and neither are you. But I had to be sure of that, so I waited some more. I figure this is as good a time as any. And I want that little girl upstairs to know who her grandparents really were."

"You’re so calm about it now, but at the time it must have been overwhelming to have had this offer made to you."

Noel chuckled. "You’re right on the mark, Wendy. I had to take some deep breaths to calm myself, but all I really wanted to do was celebrate."

"So what did you do?"

I had to take stock of the situation. "Will I be running the lab on my own?"

"Of course not. Not even Dr. Ardo was expected to do that. We have taken the liberty of screening out the list of available people and requisitioned you an assistant. You needn’t have any security concerns about your new helper, and try not to be concerned about Dr. Ardo, we are assigning an agent to investigate her disappearance. Both people in question should be meeting us here shortly."

As if on cue, a short young fellow entered the lab. His thick black hair was cut short and business-like. He wore a high collar and spats, which made him look over-dressed and very proper. He also had the bushiest eyebrows I’d ever seen. Combined with his heavily framed glasses, he tended to look very much like he was always preoccupied with other thoughts. Wakefield went to greet him with a hearty handshake. "Ah, J. Gander, glad you could come on such short notice. May I introduce you to Noel Waddlemeyer. Mr. Waddlemeyer, J. Gander Hooter."

"Pleased to meet you," I said, shaking his hand.

"My pleasure," he responded with a distinct British accent.

"J. Gander hasn’t been with us long, but has already proven to be an excellent detective. If anyone can find Elizabeth Ardo, it’ll be him."

"Thank you! Please, Mr. Hooter, if there is any way I can help you, let me know. I really am very concerned."

"I sympathize, Mr. Waddlemeyer. I know that when you’ve worked a long time with someone, they become very much a part of you." Despite his youth, J. Gander’s almost paternal way of speaking set me at ease. "And please, call me J. Gander."

"And you can call me..."

All conversation ceased as a figure appeared in the doorway. "Is this Dr. Waddlemeyer’s lab?" If the sound of a saxophone were ever given legs and red hair, it would be this young woman. All eyes were on her as she entered the room.

"Not quite doctor yet," said Yardley. "Noel Waddlemeyer, meet your new assistant, Gosalyn McQuillan."

"Oh, hush," said Wendy. "I think it’s sweet! Go on, Dad!"

Gosalyn smiled as she shook my hand. "Hi Boss. When do I get to start jumping through walls?"

I shot Yardley a startled look before realizing she must have been briefed. "Certainly not today," I said with a nervous laugh.

"Miss McQuillan," Yardley said, "as assistant, we expect you to keep careful notes and make regular reports on your progress. I don’t have to remind you how important this project is. We should be notified directly about any breakthroughs as they occur."

"Yes sir."

"And Mr. Waddlemeyer," continued Wakefield, "if there is anything else you will need, please don’t hesitate to contact us. This project is a high priority at SHUSH."

This was all happening too quickly for me. "Uh, thank you, sir."

"Well then, I suppose we’ll leave you three to your tasks," said Yardley. "Good luck. And be careful."

Wakefield and Yardley left, and J. Gander pulled out a small black notebook with a pencil. "This shouldn’t take long. I only have 17 questions for you."

What followed was a fascinating exercise in precision. Never before had I encountered someone so organized in his thinking and so thorough in his planning that he not only knew exactly how many questions it would take, but also managed to cover all relevant points. I had to keep reminding myself that SHUSH had been in on our project from the beginning, and I should not have been surprised at how much he already knew about it.

At the conclusion of his questioning, he pocketed his notebook. "I have some equipment that I would like to bring in, if it’s convenient."

"Of course," I said. As J. Gander exited, I went over to my new assistant who had been taking that time to familiarize herself with the lab and its equipment. "Do you know much about quacktron particles?" I asked her.

"Do they blow up?" she replied innocently.

"No..."

"Oh," she said with a sheepish smile. "Then not very much, I’m afraid."

"Uh, do you know anything about particle physics?"

"A little."

Well, I thought, she must know something if SHUSH chose her over all the other applicants, so I figured I might as well start at the QPIT. I took her over to the machine and began explaining the theory behind it. She didn’t hesitate to explore the inside, and seemed less interested in quacktrons than the workings of each individual part, and the amount of voltage it generated. Soon J. Gander had returned, and was unloading a fascinating display of his own. From what little I knew of investigative technology, SHUSH seemed to be clearly at the leading edge of it. Before long, I realized I was paying more attention to J. Gander than to Gosalyn. Considering the three-way conversation that ensued, it’s a wonder anyone could follow it.

"What’s that you’re using?"

"It’s the Eider 5000 - the latest in fingerprint dusting."

"Do you mind if I take this apart?"

"Don’t pull on that. You don’t know what it’s attached to."

"Wow! I just made this thing spark!"

"I’ve seen the prototype of this quacktron detector. We keep a cruder version of it in the lab."

"Should it be humming like that?"

"What’s that watermelon doing there?"

By the end of that chaotic day, the thing I remember most clearly was that the three of us couldn’t be more different in our approaches to investigation. But we had one important trait in common, and that was intense curiosity.

The remainder of that week was spent in establishing our routine. SHUSH had sent a security guard - an imposing brute named Norman - who stood just outside the lab door. As the days rolled by and Dr. Ardo failed to show up, I was glad of his presence. I spent most of my time getting Gosalyn up to speed on quacktron theory, and she made a point of educating me on everything in our lab that could, in fact, blow up. An odd pastime for a budding physicist I thought, and I privately suspected that she may have been caught in the backlash of a few of her own experiments. Fortunately, she was a quick learner, and by the end of the week, she was ready to assist me in the continuation of our project. J. Gander stopped in occasionally, but had no leads in the disappearance of Dr. Ardo. Despite his frustration, he was confident the case could be solved. However, at this point, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to hear the solution.

It wasn’t long before my urge to go through the wall returned. The only way to prove anything would be first-hand experience of it. At the very least, I wanted to know if this ‘gateway’ we created was a stable one, and would take me to the same place it took Dr. Ardo. I even had a fleeting hope that I would find Dr. Ardo herself. As long as I spent no time there, perhaps only a few seconds, I felt the risk would be worth taking. As I expected, Gosalyn had no problem with this suggestion. Her only objection was that she wanted to go through too.

We took all the same precautions as Dr. Ardo. I had a rope tied to me and the beam. Gosalyn and I each had a walkie-talkie, and I had instructed her to pull on the rope if there was any sign of trouble. In a moment, the QPIT was engaged and I was ready to step through. Gosalyn stood there holding the rope. She gave me a thumbs-up and a smile. "Don’t talk to any strangers."

The ‘tunnel’ was exactly as Dr. Ardo had described it - the swirling stripes of energy, objects from our lab drifting in the current, and other doorways identical to the one I was standing in off in the distance. What intrigued me most were the other objects floating in the tunnel - the objects that we had not sent. Many I recognized, such as bowling pins, potted flowers, a trumpet, a fire hydrant. Others looked like they came from another time - a steam engine flew by in the distance, while quite near me I saw a mechanism which reminded me of some of the futuristic space technology being discussed in the popular science journals. There were other machines whose function I could only guess. Without thinking, I leaned forward to try and snag one of these for closer examination when my walkie-talkie crackled. "I felt a pull on the rope. Is everything okay in there?" came Gosalyn’s voice. I turned and saw her clearly behind me, back in the lab. It was obvious she couldn’t see me.

"Yes, everything’s fine. This place is fascinating! I’d like a few more minutes to study some of the objects floating around here. Can you give me a little slack on the rope so that I can step out and reach them?"

"No. You’re coming back now. We agreed on only a few minutes. SHUSH would have my tail feathers if I let you stay any longer."

She didn’t wait for me to respond. I felt a surprisingly strong tug on the rope as she pulled me back through the wall.

Once I was in the lab, I disengaged the beam with reluctance and turned to face Gosalyn. I was about to remind her who was in charge of the experiment, but she seemed to have already forgotten her breach of seniority. She gave the now-solid wall a tentative rap with her knuckles, then looked at me. "I can’t wait for my turn!"

I laughed off her statement, knowing full well she meant it, and realizing that it was just as well that she took the initiative back there. I’ve always had an unhealthy tendency to get too absorbed in my work. "I think it’s time to prepare a report for SHUSH," I said, trying to control my excitement. "How about some coffee? This might take a while."

"Sure," she replied. "I take it with cream, no sugar."

"Actually, I was hoping you could make us coffee while I get started on the report. And, by the way," I said, smiling, "I take it you can do that without blowing anything up?"

"I guess you haven’t seen me make coffee," she said with a wink, and left to fetch the water.

A short while later, we were seated together with the notes and the coffee between us. As we were composing our report, the door opened, and a sombre-looking J. Gander entered the room.

"What’s up, J. Gander?" asked Gosalyn. "Found any leads yet?"

"I’m afraid I found more than that," he began, approaching us. He was interrupted by the deafening sound of a gunshot. I stood in stunned silence while J. Gander and Gosalyn reacted.

"Get down, Noel!" Gosalyn shouted as she grabbed me by the collar and threw me under a table. The door was suddenly flung open again. Standing in the entrance, breathless and disheveled was Dr. Elizabeth Ardo.

I scrambled up from the floor. "Dr. Ardo!" I exclaimed in shock.

"What are all these people doing in my lab?" she shouted gruffly. In her eyes was a crazed expression that I had never seen before.

"Are you all right, Dr. Ardo?" I asked. "We heard a gunshot."

"Noel Waddlemeyer?" she asked, seemingly surprised. Then she laughed out loud. "This is too much! This is just too much!" She ran to the QPIT. "I’ve gotta get out of here..."

"Dr. Ardo, what’s going on? What’s wrong? Where have you been?"

"Leave me alone, Noel. You’re always in my way." She inspected the QPIT frantically. "What a mess..." she mumbled to herself. "What kind of twisted mind could have come up with this?"

I noticed that Gosalyn had made her way to the lab door and looked through its window. When she turned back, her face was disturbingly without expression, and focused intently on Dr. Ardo. She began to move slowly towards me again. I felt dazed. Had Dr. Ardo gone mad? Where had that gunshot come from? And where was Norman? J. Gander shook his head at me as if in warning, but considering the doctor’s behaviour, I didn’t dare ask him to explain himself. Instead, I cautiously approached Dr. Ardo.

"Please tell us what happened. We’ve been so worried. There’s obviously something wrong. Will you let us help?"

She spun around to look into my eyes. "Help? Yes, there’s some justice to that. Of course you can help, Noel. Just tell me how I get this blasted piece of junk to work."

"What? Don’t you remember?"

"I... uh... must have hit my head." Suddenly finding something very amusing, she howled with laughter. "Of course! I hit my head!" she chuckled. Then she looked into my eyes again. "That would explain why I can’t remember."

I didn’t know what to say. I certainly didn’t want Dr. Ardo to be using her invention in her current state of mind. "But why would you want to use the QPIT?"

She was already fiddling again with the wires and turning dials, oblivious to the rest of us. J. Gander and Gosalyn had come up to join me. I didn’t know how to stop her, but I could see that Dr. Ardo had only one more wire to connect before the machine was functional, and she was very close.

"Ah!" she cried, making the connection. She threw the switch, and a beam shot towards the wall. Luckily, one of the dials she turned must have refocused the emitter to a narrower field.

"I shall have to ask you to shut that off," J. Gander said forcefully.

"What’s wrong with this thing?" she continued with mounting anger. "And where’s the doorway?" She grabbed one of our coffee cups that was sitting nearby and threw it with great force at the wall. It disappeared through the small circle on which the beam was focused. Her expression suddenly changed, and she began to work again with the controls to widen the field.

"I must insist that you shut it off," J. Gander demanded.

She suddenly turned on him. "Who do you think you are, telling me what to do in my own lab? Get out of here this instant."

"This is not your lab, because you are not Dr. Ardo," he said, meeting her stare evenly.

"How dare you say that?!" she shrieked. "I am Elizabeth Ardo!"

"I’m afraid you cannot be." He turned to look at me sympathetically. "I’m sorry, Noel." I had a sudden sick feeling in my stomach as he turned back to face her. He said with quiet authority, "Elizabeth Ardo is dead."

It was as if everything stopped. I shivered as the truth of his words struck me. I realized that this had been my fear from the beginning, though I didn’t want to admit it to myself.

Something seemed to snap inside the stranger at J. Gander’s remark and her eyes bulged with rage. "She wasn’t Elizabeth Ardo! I’m Elizabeth Ardo! I’m the only Elizabeth Ardo!! Don’t you fools understand? You’re not supposed to be here! This entire world is not supposed to be here! You should all be blown away!" This sent her laughing hysterically again.

"I’m sure we can talk this over reasonably."

"Talk all you want! I’ve planted a bomb, so you and your whole phony world are about to be just a bad memory anyway!" She turned back to the QPIT.

J. Gander quickly turned to Gosalyn. "Is that possible?" he whispered.

"This wacko is capable of anything. I’ll bet that’s her gun lying on the floor outside. She got Norman."

I couldn’t believe how calmly they both were taking this.

"What about blowing up the world?" J. Gander asked.

"I doubt anyone could do that single-handedly, but she could do some major damage if she knows about the university’s particle accelerator and has the right kind of explosive..."

"... And if she knows anything about quacktron theory," I added, "she’ll know how to make the right kind of explosive."

"Hey!" Gosalyn looked annoyed. "I thought you said they didn’t explode!"

"Not normally! But normally we’re not dumb enough to send them through the cyclotron!"

"Well, the particle accelerator is probably where the bomb is, then," said Gosalyn. "Third basement of this building,"

The stranger was frantically working at the QPIT. "Found it!" she said to herself, and began adjusting the beam. Slowly its field began to expand across the wall.

J. Gander threw a quick glance at Gosalyn, who nodded silently. While the mad scientist’s back was still turned, he quickly grabbed the quacktron detector and slipped through the door, leaving us alone with her. Keeping an eye on the woman, Gosalyn slowly took off her lab coat.

"Okay, here’s the plan," she whispered. "I draw her away from the machine, you try and disable it."

I looked at her in dismay. "She looks dangerous. Are you sure you can handle her?"

"Are you kidding? My assignment was to protect you." She didn’t give me a chance to respond as she moved forward to the impostor.

"You know, you can’t be the real Dr. Ardo," Gosalyn taunted. "She would never have done what you’re doing."

The stranger whirled around to confront Gosalyn. "You impudent, insignificant idiot!" she howled. "You have no idea what is going on. How could you?"

"I know enough. You got here through the tunnel between worlds that the QPIT tapped into. Your world is obviously enough like ours that you are familiar with it. In fact, perhaps you are an Ardo look-alike who also invented a similar device that gave you access to the tunnel as well."

"Years ago! Years before you dolts had any idea!!"

"And with your superior intellect, you’ve been going around destroying worlds as you have found them?" Gosalyn asked coldly.

"No," she responded venomously. "No, I began my exploration of the tunnel long ago quite by accident. There are thousands of doorways. Thousands of worlds behind those doors. All of them locked."

"Do you mean to say you couldn’t get into them?"

"No," she said, lost in the horrible memory. "Not any of them. Thousands of doors... all alike..."

"... And you didn’t know which one was yours to get back?"

"I curse the day I left that door without marking it. I spent years cursing that day, floating in that timeless, senseless void. I couldn’t age, I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t feel hunger or warmth or cold. It was horrible."

I imagined how terrible that must have been. Lonely years, lost and floating between worlds, forever shut out. Gosalyn obviously had no such sympathy. She smirked. "Your door isn’t marked, and you plan to jump right back in there ...and you call us idiots?"

Ouch! I thought. She’s going to get herself killed for that one.

As Gosalyn had intended, the stranger launched herself at her in a blind fury. I worked my way towards the QPIT as I watched them fight. It became obvious to me that Gosalyn’s true talent had nothing to do with science. You have to remember that a woman back then would never have been taken seriously as a fighter. Her innate skill must have been a great advantage to SHUSH. Then I realized she was about to throw Ardo’s double into a bank of sensitive vacuum tubes. Panic-struck, I began dragging the shelf of delicate equipment out of harm’s way. I had barely gotten them to safety when I saw them getting dangerously close to the table housing the reintegration unit that Dr. Ardo and I had spent so long building. I pushed it aside in time to save it, but not the hundreds of test tubes and their contents, which smashed to the floor as Gosalyn and the false Ardo bounced each other off the wall. Oh well, can’t save them all, I thought miserably. I took a moment to quickly shut the storage cabinets and supply room doors before heading back to the QPIT.

As I reached the control panels, I heard Ardo scream. I realized she was not looking at me, but at her watch. With a look of terror, she tore herself away from Gosalyn, pushed me to the floor, and dove headlong for the wall. Just then, I heard "Take cover!" behind me. J. Gander bounded across the room and hurled the bomb towards the wall. Ardo and the bomb vanished at the same instant.

"Cut the power!" shouted J. Gander, and as I lay winded, I saw Gosalyn’s hand come down hard on the switch.

We sat for a moment in stunned silence, our ears straining for an explosion that we knew we couldn’t hear. Eventually, Gosalyn looked over at me.

"Are you okay, Noel?"

"Yeah," I said as I stood up. "Thanks to both of you."

"I’m sorry you had to learn about Dr. Ardo this way," J. Gander said solemnly.

"It couldn’t be helped. I guess... you found her then."

"I’m afraid so. It appeared she had been struck in the head with a heavy object - my guess is the fire extinguisher."

"And Norman?" asked Gosalyn.

"He’s not dead. Luckily, I ran past the secretary on my way to the basement and had her call for an ambulance. She obviously did more than that, because there are some med students tending to him now."

There was another moment of silence. We could hear sirens in the distance growing louder.

"I feel sorry for both the Dr. Ardos," said Gosalyn sadly. "I can’t imagine what it would be like to float for years in the middle of nowhere only to find a double of myself from another world. No wonder she snapped."

"It’s a good thing you hadn’t deactivated the machine before I arrived," said J. Gander.

"Luck had nothing to do with it," I said sheepishly as I looked around at the equipment I had saved.

"Just out of curiosity," Gosalyn asked me, "what do you think has happened to the tunnel? Do you suppose the bomb could have affected it?"

"It’s difficult to say. We never had the opportunity to study it in depth."

"If it is true that other worlds are connected to ours through this tunnel, do you think we have endangered them in any way by detonating a bomb in there?" asked J. Gander.

"Or endangered our own?" asked Gosalyn nervously.

We all looked at each other. "I guess there’s only one way to find out."

"Is it my turn?" asked Gosalyn with a smile.

Despite my objections, J. Gander convinced me that Gosalyn was the right person to go. She was by far the most capable if the other world Ardo should still be there. Without further delay, we secured a rope to her waist, the other end to the beam, and gave her a walkie-talkie. I worked the QPIT while J. Gander played out the rope. With a deep breath, Gosalyn stepped up to the wall and disappeared abruptly through it.

Suddenly, the sound of a scream erupted from our walkie-talkie, followed by a terrible rushing roar, then static. At the same time, without warning, the line went taut and began dragging J. Gander towards the wall. I jumped for the coil of rope on the floor behind him. "Let go!" I shouted. "I’ve got it!"

He fell back just in time. Before I had been dragged far, he had secured the remainder of the rope on the same beam to which we had tied the end. "Pull!" he yelled to me. It took all our combined strength, and what seemed to be an eternity, before Gosalyn fell back into the lab. Her hair and clothing were in disarray and she lay there gasping and shaking.

"What happened? Are you okay?" I asked, kneeling beside her. Her hands grasped my arm but her eyes stared past me blankly. "Gosalyn, can you hear me? You’re back in the lab. You’re safe!"

She still didn’t seem to be aware of me.

J. Gander was at her other side. "She’s in shock," he said. Although his voice didn’t betray it, his expression was full of concern. He took her by the shoulders. "There are times when I personally dislike SHUSH procedure," he said to me. Abruptly, he slapped her across the face.

Her eyes came into focus at the same time as her fist instinctively shot out, connecting with his chin and sending him flying backwards. She was shaking less, and now looked horrified at what she had done.

"I’m sorry, J. Gander," she said in a weak voice. "Are you okay?"

"Quite all right, thank you, Agent McQuillan. More importantly, are you all right?"

She took a deep breath. "I’m okay," she said quietly. "It’s just... I’m not that... comfortable with heights." She grimaced at the admission.

"Heights?" I asked. "I don’t understand. When I was there, it was just a tunnel stretching in either direction."

She shook her head. "Not now."

"Is it bad?"

She closed her eyes to the memory and took another deep breath to control her fear. "Well," she began shakily, "that depends. What would you call a huge vortex, sucking in everything around it?"

"I’d call it bad."

"Then this is very bad."

I speculated for a moment. "The bomb must have detonated at the precise moment it entered the wall, causing a rift in the tunnel between worlds. If it had gone in a second earlier, I doubt it would have exploded at all, since time seems to stop there." I turned again to Gosalyn. "Was it just the objects in the tunnel being sucked through, or did it look like the tunnel itself was collapsing?"

"I’d say both. But where could it all be going?" she asked nervously.

"Who knows? My guess is they’re falling out of the regular space-time continuum and ceasing to exist."

"Well, I hate to alarm you guys, but our doorway was moving towards the rift."

"That’s a bit of bad luck," J. Gander admitted. "I suppose we don’t have much time, then. What does our expert say?" he asked, looking at me.

"Me? Are you telling me that the fate of every known universe is in my hands?" I suddenly felt very small, very helpless, and very scared.

"How about a plug?" asked Gosalyn.

"What do you mean? You want to save the universe by plugging it like a bathtub?"

"Why not?" she said a little defiantly - already regaining some of her spirit.

"Well obviously... uh... well, the.... okay, so maybe it might work, but where are we going to get a plug big enough?"

"The campus reservoir. I saw it when I first got here and was scoping out the grounds. It might mean draining the water supply, but considering the alternative..."

Once more we were set up before the lab wall. It was my turn again, being the resident expert. Lucky me. I was wearing a harness with a replacement walkie-talkie tied securely to my belt. A motorized winch had been set up to control the rope. I felt absurd to be carrying a giant plug, and even more absurd to believe that it would work. Gosalyn stood ready to operate the QPIT, and would also control the rope, stopping when she heard my signal over the walkie-talkie. I braced myself for the pull of the vortex, and stepped through.

The experience was nearly indescribable. I was initially snapped forward by its tremendous pull before feeling the reassuring resistance of my harness. I shouted over the roar of the storm for Gosalyn to begin letting out the rope. Slowly I moved closer to the center of the maelstrom. The bands of force which made up the walls of the tunnel swirled about me to vanish within the depths of the vortex. The accumulated flotsam of the tunnel’s infinite length streamed past me to vanish within its bright indistinguishable center. I could still see the other doors moving slowly in the distance, far less affected by the whirlpool. If I was to fail in my attempt, our world would clearly be the first to go. I hoped that, if I failed, our door would simply plug the tunnel and restore equilibrium, but I couldn’t risk that. My fingers were numbed by my grip on the plug, and as I neared my goal, I was more and more afraid that I might slip and let it fly before I was in position.

As I spun helplessly in the grip of invisible forces, my feet found purchase on the contracted sides of the tunnel. I was able to stand, albeit shakily, as the colours of the walls washed over my ankles towards oblivion. I stepped forward carefully and stretched out my arms, holding out the plug by its oversized chain and letting it be pulled out in front of me. I had no idea if it would be too big or too small for the tear. Slowly ... slowly ... and then in. It worked.

The sides of the tunnel seemed to spring out from under me, attempting to resume their shape, and I found myself cast adrift again. I could see the plug, now seemingly as unattached as the last few items caught in the currents of the walls, except that like the doors, it was stationary. Overcome with relief, I shouted my success to the lab and allowed them to pull me back in.

"That’s incredible Dad! It’s - it’s almost unbelievable," said Bill, leaning forward.

"Almost?" said Noel with a small twinkle in his eye.

"Well, no offense, Dad, but you’ve never been that great a storyteller, and I can’t believe you’d make this up. What happened next? Did you and Mom continue working together?"

"Oh no, no. At least not for some time. She, J. Gander and I were de-briefed by SHUSH and the QPIT was disassembled and carted off to wherever they store stuff like that. J. Gander and she were re-assigned to new cases, and I was left alone to finish my dissertation. It was some months later, the day I received my doctorate actually, that Mr. Wakefield and Mr. Yardley came knocking on my door to recruit me for SHUSH’s R & D department.

"Obviously it wasn’t the last time I would see your mother, and in fact we began working together on cases quite regularly before any romance started between us."

"Cases? Like what?" asked his daughter-in-law eagerly.

Noel Waddlemeyer smiled at the bright looks on their faces and remembered his sleeping granddaughter upstairs. "I think," he said, "those stories can wait for another day."