The Nick Of Time - Part 22
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Part 22

"I don't, either," said Mihalik sadly. "And what about the future? Is there only one? Is it inescapable?"

Dr. Waters shook his head. "That was just another lie of a false universe."

Mihalik nodded; that was good news. "I thought I was going crazy sometimes."

"You mean when you started hurting people at the Fair? Back in 1939?" asked Dr. Waters.

"How did you know about that?"

Dr. Waters smiled. "I know your whole story. Don't forget, I've been in the future. I've been filled in on everything."

Mihalik frowned. "Yes, when I started hurting people. I thought, what difference does it make? Then when I was in the future, and people didn't get well at midnight any longer, I still had that feeling: what difference does it make? These aren't real universes, these aren't real people. At least, that's what I told myself. I never really believed it, though, and now I'm carrying around a lot of guilt for some of the things I did."

"You mean the other Cheryl," said Dr. Waters. "In the ice."

"Yes," said Mihalik. "I can't stop thinking about her."

"What did you do to her, Frank?" asked Cheryl. This other Cheryl was like an extension of her. She wanted to know what had happened.

Dr. Waters waved a hand at her, and she was quiet again. "It's all right, Frank," he said. "You didn't abandon her to eternity. You forget about the nature of infinity. In one of the infinite universes there will be someone -- me, a Historian, Cheryl, you yourself -- who will find a way to cross to her universe and set her free."

"But--"

"There has to be, Frank. In an infinite number of realities, it isn't just anything that will occur; everything will occur. Including the rescue of the other Cheryl. You have nothing to feel bad about."

"But that means," said Mihalik, threading his way through the concepts, "that means that everything always has to work out for the best, because if it didn't, someone from another universe would arrive to fix it."

"I suppose so."

"So we're all living in the best of all possible worlds," said Cheryl.

"Every world is the best of all possible worlds," said Dr. Waters.

"How can that be?" asked Mihalik.

Dr. Waters took out his expensive French cigarettes and lit one. "I'll show you the math, Frank," hesaid, exhaling smoke, "and you can see if it makes any sense to you."

"I'll have to take your word for it, then. Does that mean that we were really helpless? That there was no way we could have gotten ourselves home to our own universe?"

"It seems that way," said Dr. Waters. "You couldn't have gotten back here any more than an ice cube can become water again just by wishing. It takes energy. Truth and illusion, George, you don't know the difference."

"What? Who's George? I'm Frank, remember?"

"It was a line from an Albee play," said Cheryl helpfully. Dr. Waters nodded. "And the next line is, 'No; but we must carry on as though we did.'"

"Is that profound?" asked Mihalik.

"Sure is," said Cheryl.

Mihalik thought some more. He felt the dark stain on his spirit begin to vanish, leaving him with contentment and hope he hadn't felt in many months. He reached out and took Cheryl's hand. "You still have my favorite Mounds in the whole world," he said.

She smiled, though a tear slipped from one eye. "And you'll always be my Almond Joy," she said.

"Good," said Dr. Waters, "I wanted to get you two reconciled again. Now I want to discuss a little proposition with you, Frank. Something I learned about in the future."

Mihalik felt odd misgivings. His heart felt suddenly as cold as a frozen Snickers.

Dr. Waters went on. "Scientists are supposed to be untainted by thoughts of reward; but if, after all the work is done, there are financial benefits, what's wrong with collecting them?"

"Nothing, I guess," said Mihalik warily. He saw one or another Dr. Waterses, sitting behind a big desk high in a tall skysc.r.a.per, wielding uncheckable power.

"Well, listen. It occurred to me that very soon, when we have all the bugs worked out, there might be a tremendous potential for commercial exploitation."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean tourism, Frank."

Mihalik relaxed. Dr Waters wasn't plotting to rule the world. And he was right; Mihalik had never considered how lucrative an industry might spring up from their efforts. "Tourism?"

"Trips into the past," said Dr. Waters with enthusiasm. It was obvious that he'd thought about this a great deal, that he had all the details worked out. "Just think of it: wouldn't you like to travel around, see the sights of history, leave our shabby little present for a couple of weeks every year?"

"Sure," said Mihalik, "but the past--"

"I know. Like I said, we'll work out the bugs; then you and I can go into business together. The Mihalik-Waters Trans-temporal Travel Agency. How does that sound?"

Mihalik liked the idea. A hero's life is a short and glorious one; but there were always younger, faster kid heroes coming along. Mihalik, truth to tell, didn't have many more good years left in him. It was time to start casting around for a good long-term investment. "Sounds good to me," he said.

"Fine, my boy," said Dr. Waters, smiling, putting out his hand. "We'll shake on it here. You rest up, and when you're ready we'll talk about the Agency some more."

Mihalik stared. "What did you say?" he asked in a strangled voice.

"The Agency. We're founding the Agency."

Mihalik lay back on his pillows and closed his eyes. He ma.s.saged his throbbing temples. "Uh huh," he said. "And I guess I have to get to work on a letterhead for the Temporary Underground, too."

"What's that, Frank?" asked Cheryl.

He'd forgotten that she didn't know about any of this. He just waved a tired hand.

"You'll find out," said Dr. Waters gleefully. To Mihalik, it seemed like the man couldn't wait to get started.