The history department liaison, Robert Angstrom, took the elevator to the seventh floor of the GURUTECH building. He had a memory gel in hand that carried his report about “Operation Cupcake”, the recent mission failure. He smiled with anticipation. He was sure that he could convince Subguru Singh that yet another mission had been spoiled by the poor quality of Donald Rutherford’s research. Sri Singh had a subtle understanding of human nature, however, and had a talented nose for sniffing out any hint of bias or malice. Robert reminded himself that he had to maintain an air of neutrality and let his superior come to his own conclusions.
He reached his destination and paused before the subguru’s doorway to remove his shoes. He took a small white carnation from his shirt pocket and placed it on an altar at the right side of the door. The altar was a small wooden table lacquered to a shiny black sheen. It was covered by a white silk cloth, and it bore two white candles, a stick of incense, a carved incense burner, and the framed photograph of the GURUTECH founder. He thought briefly about lighting a candle and saying the customary prayer (“May the peace of eternal light manifest itself in all sentient beings.”), but decided to forgo the formalities. He was eager to talk to Singh. If things went well, he might cheerfully end the day drawing up Rutherford’s dismissal documents. Robert clasped his hands together before his nose and bowed his head toward the photograph on the altar as he said, “Jai, Gurudev.” The automatic door responded by opening with a quiet “shoosh”.
Robert repressed the urge to cough as he entered the subguru’s meditation room. Incense hung in heavy clouds near the low ceiling of the darkened chamber. Sitar music played quietly from speakers embedded in the walls and ceiling, and Robert’s ears were enveloped with the intricate, pulsing sounds of an ancient raga played by an adept master. Singh sat upon a cushion resting on a low platform at the far end of the room. His legs were crossed, and his upturned palms rested on his thighs. His pointer fingers touched the tips of his thumbs, and his eyes were closed. His bald head gleamed dully in the dim light. A beatific smile creased his face in gentle folds, and Robert felt overwhelmed by a feeling of well-being. Robert sank to his knees before the subguru and bowed his forehead to the floor. He straightened up and sat in the meditation posture of his master and began to focus his attention on his third eye. After ten minutes the incense and music fell away from his awareness, and his mind dropped into a pocket of all consuming peace.
Robert lost all track of time and was startled when his master gently struck a small gong to recall his attention. Singh waited patiently for Robert to open his eyes and greet him.
“Namaste, gurudev,” said the liaison.
“It is a pleasure to see you, Mr. Angstrom. What news do you have for me?” Singh asked quietly.
Angstrom handed the memory gel to him, and the subguru pocketed it within the folds of his robes.
“I’d like to hear what you have to say, Angstrom, before I read this. I want to hear your thoughts concerning this latest…inadequate outcome,” Singh said.
“Reynolds, one of our best interrogators, debriefed the traveler, Aubrey Piazza/Danvers, early this morning. She reported that there were two cupcakes in the display case in the bakery, one iced with chocolate and the other vanilla iced covered with pink sprinkles. She chose the latter,” said Angstrom.
“I would have preferred the chocolate,” the subguru said with a smile.
“Uh, yes. Well in any case, her implant reported that she left the shop with the cupcake and accosted her future husband three blocks to the south. Her victim managed to strike her on the back of the head right before receiving a blow to his skull. The transmission became garbled at this point, but she returned under the impression that she had killed her husband. There are two indicators that show, regardless of how truthfully she reported her actions and how accurately the transponder acquired data, that she did great damage to her personal time line. Her PVS was altered to the point that she could not synch with our present slice of time. It was so severe that she could not be retrieved in the normal fashion. We could not do a field adjustment at her 2015 destination because we had to remove her in a hurry,” said Angstrom.
“Magdeburg?” asked Singh quietly.
“Yes, guru, Magdeburg,” Angstrom answered.
“I trust that she was not injured…”
“Traumatized, guru Singh, and she currently is experiencing a shock induced partial amnesia regarding her experiences there. She is also suffering from subtle asynchrony,” Angstrom said.
“She will be pulled into synchrony eventually?” the guru asked.
“We believe so. The signals from her environment will gradually influence her personal signal, and she will be pulled into synchrony. It all depends, of course, on how willing she will be to engage with her new reality. We’ve discovered that some travelers find it more difficult to accept and adapt to the alterations in their lives than others. Willful, hot tempered, intolerant subjects, especially those with no deep experience in prayer or meditation, are generally the most inflexible. Their adjustment takes the longest,” said Angstrom.
“What is the other indicator?” asked Singh.
“Census records show that her ex-husband, the man she attacked in 2015, is still alive. The previous standard time line had a very steady reading that indicated that he died in 2020 in a bar fight. The current records report that Jeffrey Danvers and Aubrey Danvers nee Piazza, live at the same address and filed a joint tax return last spring,” said Angstrom.
“Oh, dear. Aubrey Danvers is a traumatized, partial amnesiac suffering from subtle asynchrony, and she’s going home to her dead ex-husband to whom she is currently married. I do not believe that our customary consolation gift of a basket of fruit and bottle of brandy will suffice. Perhaps an act of mercy might be in order,” Singh said.
“I would like to wait a while to see how she adjusts. And we might need her for another mission. It may be necessary to send her back to that bakery once we clear up the issue of the two cupcakes,” Angstrom replied hurriedly.
“Won’t her signal be blocked by our friends, the Existentialists, now that they can get a fix on her PVS?” asked the guru.
“They know that we sent her on a mission to change a stem event in 2015, and they must be aware that no significant change has occurred in the time line. Our operatives have recently discovered that the Existentialists have learned how to read target destinations when they scan our transportation signals. It is likely that they know that Senator Howard Thorne’s career was one of our mission goals. Our failure must be evident to them, as public records indicate that he retired in 2016 having accomplished very little in his political career. The outcome that we sought by changing the election results has not occurred. The Existentialists must be most pleased, and would probably boost our signal if we attempt to send her back. Mrs. Danvers is the best thing that’s happened to them in a long time,” said Angstrom.
“Are you sure that an act of mercy would not be in order? Why should we continue to allow her to suffer?” said the guru with a very fine edge of tension in his voice.
“She might be the key to the puzzle, guru,” Angstrom answered quickly.
“Yes, guru. The puzzle. Why have our recent missions failed so completely? Where are the Existentialists getting their information? Was Mrs. Danvers a plant, a mole who found a subtle way to disrupt her mission? Or, in a less sinister but no less serious vein, are there fault lines in our research?” said Angstrom.
“What do you think happened?” Singh asked quietly.
Robert Angstrom paused before answering. He knew that this was a crucial moment. The guru’s smile did not fool him: his eyes had lost their customary warmth and geniality.
“Donald Rutherford was the chief historian on two of our five latest failed missions. His research methods use applications based on Silverstein’s theory of Mapable Uncertainties,” Angstrom said carefully.
“Do his calculations not correspond to the results reported by historians working with Plogman’s Matrix of Coincidental Consequences?” asked the guru.
“Yes, for the most part. His results cohere at a rate of 99.873 percent. But as you are aware, Guru Singh, in matters of time travel the margin for error is extremely thin,” said Angstrom.
“I am also aware, Robert, that simple variances in point of view in the world of science and academics can lead to surprisingly bitter arguments, vendettas, and whisper campaigns involving slander and character assassination…While I believe that your concerns about Rutherford come from a place in your heart that is unbiased and completely focused on the welfare of GURUTECH, I will need further proof before I can take this matter up with the other gurus. They are not as well acquainted with the excellence of your character and may not be willing to simply take your word for it. Can you prove to me that Rutherford is more to blame for our recent disappointments than our other historians have been?” asked Singh.
“Yes, I understand your point. Perhaps we could send Mrs. Danvers back to the stem event using calculations based solely on Plogman’s Matrix. That might be a starting point for a clear-eyed investigation. We could compare the results and look into discrepancies between the two missions that might indicate inadequate research, or sabotage, or the presence of a mole,” said Angstrom.
“But Mrs. Danvers is compromised, is she not? She will not be able to reenact her mission along the same guidelines as she is no longer the same person,” said the guru.
“Cognitive erasure, Sri Singh. We can erase her mind and reprogram her memories until she is in synch with her previous PVS. It would be an act of mercy,” said Angstrom.
“She would have to give knowing consent to such a radical procedure, and what if our poor lady is the spy and the saboteur? Could she recreate her actions and disrupt the operation once again? Resetting her memories to conform to her previous PVS would not solve that problem.”
“The Existentialists strongly believe in the integrity of the individual as he or she struggles to form a purposeful identity. They would not knowingly allow one of their agents to disrupt their own time line as Mrs. Danvers did during her mission. If Mrs. Danvers were an Existentialist herself, she would be loath to disrupt her personal time line. She would see it as an act of self-negation: suicide. And I can assure you, Guru Singh, that Mrs. Danvers is not suicidal. She has a marked tendency to resort to violent behavior when she feels threatened. This a woman who is very interested in preserving her existence.”
“Hmm. I will have to read your report and meditate on these matters, Robert, before I consult with the other subgurus. Your conclusions about Mrs. Danvers agree with my sense of logic—I do not believe that she is a spy. However, I am not all that sure that she will not become suicidal in her present state. A marked tendency to violent self-defense may become a deadly trait when one is at war with oneself. I do not wish to have this woman’s blood on our hands, and I hope that we will find some way to relieve her suffering …I cannot predict how my colleagues will react to your insights and recommendations. This may ultimately become a matter for Chief Executive Guru Patel to decide,” said Singh.
“Yes, guru,” Angstrom replied.
Singh closed his eyes and resumed his meditation posture. The interview was over. Robert felt waves of peace wash over him once more and the anxious thoughts that had just been troubling him subsided a great deal, but did not fully fall away from his mind. Subguru Singh struck his gong once more, and Robert rose to his feet and bowed to his master. The door hissed close behind him as he entered the corridor and stood before the little altar once more. He resisted the urge to kick the table over. He snatched up the carnation instead and angrily tore off some petals. He slapped the despoiled flower back down on the white, silk cloth, and stalked away down the corridor.