Stepping into the Future

                                                                It's in the Water

 

It was six night now in Santiago, six nights that included a continual series of deep hypnotic imaginings of some sort.  Where did they come from and what was the purpose?  Michael suspected some sort of drug. People just don't share dreams without some kind of prompt, some kind of mechanism. It was all so odd.  He'd hash it out with Laura and Schechter over dinner.

"Where's it coming from Sol?",  Michael wanted to know. Schechter saw this coming and didn't really want to talk about it. He had enough nightmares of his own. "I wish I knew Michael. I have no idea. It could be coming from you, or Laura, something in your past, a place you visited. It could be jet lag. I don't know."  Schechter looked troubled by the whole subject.  "Michael insists that someone's drugged us. He says you can't ordinarily hypnotize people otherwise".  Laura  prodded despite Schechter's reluctance to  discuss it. "Couldn't we get back to the research?", Schechter pleaded. "I assure you there's nothing in the water and the food's kosher" , he added with a smile.

Michael couldn't shrug it off so easily of course. Too much had happened. He  looked out the courtyard up at the sky. Lights on the fountain distracted his view somewhat. It felt  strange to be down here now.  He wondered if Schechter felt this way about Chile. He wondered about people and what comfort and security were. Where was home really, especially now?  Was it him or was it the world? Was it the research and how far it had stretched the imagination? Were they really standing at a crossroads in time, or was this all a dream brought on by some kind of extended  jet lag?

It would have been just a fleeting thought except for the facts of Exit 51. It was as real as his home back in Philly. He knew the place, the people, the times, the food, the news, the details. It was all that detail. Mark Green was just as much him as Michael Gornstein, possibly more.

He wrestled with the conflicting viewpoints. He wasn't being forced into the future against his will. This was important. He had a choice. Stay here and finish his research, or regroup across a quantum leap through time.

Michael looked at the photographs on the white translucent glass that Schechter had laid out in his study. He looked at the area where the anomaly appeared and wondered. His mind drifted to the problem of this month's thru-put at the exit. He smiled at the thought of Mohammad's grimace at the news of their upgrade. He smelled the red dust of Oklahoma blowing up from the ground after the rain had dried. He could see Lauren's pretty smile as she tilted her head toward him. "We belong at the exit", he said resolutely. Lauren liked his certainty when he made decisions. He watched the blue and green lights on the fountain fade with the night. He watched as the observation room became more and more solid around him with Lauren now there and by his side. It was like landing on a runway when the wheels touched down and you were there and no longer in the air. They both watched the data run by through the white glass of the observation trackers. They were 300 years into the future and they were there to stay.

Coming Home

                    

        

                                              Lost  in Time

 

"We're half in the future and half back here"  Michael said and looked deeply into Laura's eyes for any sign of recognition. "How do you know?" Laura looked right back at him. "I see it. I see it happening. I almost see why!"  Michael turned as he spoke  and continued in an angry voice, "and I don't like it. I don't like being someone's toy, pushed into a place and time I have no choice about, no understanding. It  makes me feel weak and helpless and I've decided to stop it.". "How", Laura asked as if they were planning an evening's observation schedule. "I can get us out. I've thought it out carefully. You know what happens in these dreams? He waited for her reply. "What?" "They take us forward in time and to a different place, but the transit is vulnerable. I noticed it last time and I remembered it and I remembered it because I made a large number of associations for when we were back here that would remind me, and I remembered. The orientation changes". Laura was listening intently. It was as if they were French underground conspiring against the Nazis. Michael went on. "Ordinarily, now, my whole life,  usually, I relate most of my experience to my youth, school, growing up, my first telescope, you know". Laura nodded. "When we're in transit, there's none of that, just Chile, just here at the observatory or at Schechter's, or on the road, or somewhere around here. The job." They called their current research "the job". "And I noticed it. Every time I notice it." Laura started to make coffee as Michael continued excitedly. "I know how we can break out. I'm sure of it. All we have to do is know when we're in transit and then talk about it and we'll wake up!" He just about smiled the way he did when he'd solved a math puzzle. He looked at her for her view of all this. She handed him a cup of coffee . "It makes me want to smoke a cigarette and I never smoke." She laughed and so did Michael. "I don't know. Break out? What do you mean?" "Just wake up out of it, force ourselves to wake up!" "How in heaven are we supposed to do that?" Michael smiled at the question. "Exactly" he answered. "All we do is rehearse a few lines until we recognize where we are and come to." He smiled like a contented cat.

Four hours and as many cups of coffee later they were still sitting at the kitchen table going over their lines. "Then I say, "are you ready Laura?" "And you say.." and Laura broke in. "I sure am." Michael smiled. "That's all there is to it". He saw how tired she looked. "It'll be alright". That was Michael, she thought. He gets a plan and follows it. She hoped he was right. He usually was, but who knew what to expect anymore.

That night Laura actually feared falling asleep. She tried to keep her mind occupied with their research and the next day's programs. In what seemed like the instant she dozed off, she woke suddenly in the windowless room, same bed, same ceiling, and the same strange feeling of being in a place that seemed like a solidified dream.  "Michael!" she called out. "I'm here" he answered. "Let's get out of here right now". He was awake already and aware of where they were. It was time to jump on this. "Change of plans?" Laura asked. "Yeah - we're actually home I think, but we can't see it" Michael was trying to understand what was going on and couldn't quite bracket the situation. "See if you can reach out and touch the lamp on your night table - you know - the guy on the horse." The silver toreador?" she asked. "Yeah, that guy  - it's just a hunch." Laura had no idea what to do. "You mean imagine it?" "No do it", he shouted. "Do it - I'm in the next room - I'm here in the next room", he insisted. She reached out and somehow managed to touch a lamp - a lamp that wasn't visibly in the room. She could almost hear a warning. "You'll get in trouble. You'll get lost!"...Suddenly, like a tornado touching down. it seemed like everything that existed was moving, spinning with hardly any pattern to focus on except a downward winding inner funnel that seemed darker than the gray and pale light of the confusion. The sound was deafening, as loud as close thunder and all the worse for loud, frozen, high pitched shrieking. Laura, herself, seemed to come apart in the twisting forces tearing at her body and all the spaces around her. "It's a total chaos",  she thought. "There's no ordered space or time between the present and the future. It's chaotic". She heard a familiar voice and the noise and confusion subsided. "Laura, we made it!" Michael looked down at her on the bed. She was breathing hard, sweating profusely, and clutching the lamp so tightly that her hand was shaking and her knuckles were white. "We're back home". She turned and looked up at his face. "Good grief, that was like a train wreck"!

 

 

 

                                   

                         

A Romance Begins

                                                       A  Moment in Time 

Sometimes things seem to flow with definite direction and purpose, as if orchestrated or arranged, each detail coinciding almost effortlessly like fallen leaves making their way easily down a stream and coming together in an  eddy, spinning and dancing in a circle and then moving along, each particle with almost a will.

So it was on this brisk spring day. Mark was up on the roof of the observation building taking in the view, studying the weather and, as usual, wondering where everyone was going and why. A few years managing a complex like Exit 51 and you developed a sense of what Mark called "road consciousness".

Mark's hands rested on the concrete parapet. He looked out toward  where the red clay of Mt. Scott met the blue of the April sky and noticed a few low clouds whisk along in the cool breeze. He watched the exit ramps and the grey and black and colored cars and trucks flash their signals and put on their brakes as they circled down and around and taxied off the high-speed thruway. "Good visibility today. Mondays are lucky"  he thought as Lauren came up behind him, two cups of hot coffee, one in each hand. "Monday luck" she announced. He turned and smiled, smelled the coffee and returned her smile. "You're reading my mind. I was thinking just that". He looked at Lauren, her smile and laughing eyes, her soft brown hair blowing across her cheek. The air was cool and the sky was blue. She had turned to survey the traffic. The early morning light had somehow matched the turn of her pretty face. The air was sweet. He had never seen anything so fine. He reached out and touched her cheek with the back of his hand. She was so pretty. . He drank the morning in with the coffee. Lauren jumped back and looked up. "What's going on?" she wanted to know.  "I don't know" Mark said, almost apologetically. "You just looked so pretty".

What he didn't tell her was the news about a possible strategic by-pass of the exit. Mohammad and Amir, the Saudis, had been quietly planning to siphon off a major flow of traffic directly south of the main interchange and through Exit 50. It wasn't yet clear why they had bought up so much land a few miles north of their inflows. It could have been a major tourist attraction or a shopping area. Who knows? It was a serious threat. Mark would have to counter attack to protect their position. 

The moment passed. It was special. In a way, a few seconds seemed to answer hundreds of years of unstated affection. It was new, as new as Exit 51.

                                                    Schechter's Study

Back in Schechter's study  the three astronomers stood staring at the last run of photographs arranged upright  against translucent white glass panes.  Michael strained to regain his professional  equilibrium, but the previous two nights had disoriented him. "Here we are Michael", Schechter pointed out a star cluster. "Here's where we measured the expected gradient in frequency. This confirmed a null result. Sorry about that." Schechter sounded disappointed but objective. "I'm sorry too Sol. I can't get my head clear this morning."  Michael and Laura had been in Santiago for three days now and each night they both had experienced similar dreams of increasing intensity. Laura had told Michael, "I know these people like I know you. I understand my job there. I can smell the room. I know my way around the countryside. It's unreal the detail." Michael had listened and compared what she said to what he remembered. The same thing had been happening to him. It was more than uncomfortable or puzzling. It threatened his rationality. "What had they bumped into? Was it some sort of hypnotic suggestion brought on by the fatigue of travel and the stress of the research? This was his original hypothesis, but it fell short in too many areas. It felt as though they were being purposely directed toward a future point in time, not only the two of them, but most of who they knew as well as a large number of the new people they'd met here in Chile. It was if his entire world were being repositioned into the future somehow." Michael was thinking how strange this all was as Laura came in with a pot of coffee. "Perfect", he said, "exactly what we all need." 

It was over this pot of coffee that Michael just laid the whole thing right out on the table.

Schechter would have none of it. "You're totally out of your mind Michael. Excuse me but the whole idea is ridiculous. Even if it were true it would be ridiculous." This made them smile. Laura laughed. "Do yourself a favor and take a day off. Rest here in the courtyard, on the chaise over there in the shade. Sleep out here for a while. You'll get over it. Try it!" He insisted.

He was right. Two hours later, Michael woke refreshed. His head was clear. Not only that, he knew exactly what was going on. 

                                                                           Clean Up

 

Some things never change. There might be a very good reason that the ritual of clean up has been immortalized as it's been and carried on almost intact in its rhythms and style for so many thousands of years. Some men specialize in discovering hidden meanings in relics and theorizing about such things. In fact, the "checker board" that Manuel and Juan were studying, as they readied themselves waiting for the start of evening maintenance,  did not seem so different from those used by the ancient Romans for much the same purpose. Brooms and mops resting on one shoulder, They planned out their evening program of setting the stage for the next shift while they idled and gossiped away their free time. "How's your brother in law doing over at the power station?"  Juan asked. Manuel was a part time employee at maintenance. During the day he ran the "Red Hill Cafe", home of the best fried fish this side of south Texas. "It's a good job  - no problems" , Manuel replied. Charles, his brother in law had moved down from St, Louis to Oklahoma in order to work at the Exit. He met Manuel's sister at a party in Oklahoma City. He was a civil engineer with a master's degree in traffic line power requirements.  His whole family were engineers and technicians. Manuel and most of his relatives were local, descended from the Apache as the story went. "Charles has the comfort of his office and the hum of the generators. I have my cold beer and fried fish and my music", Manuel smiled at the thought.

They heard approaching footsteps and jumped up. "It's got to be the chief. He's early tonight", Manuel muttered. They both started moving their mops like they'd been at it for hours. "Evening gentlemen. How's it going?" Mark asked. "Nearly done, it was clean this morning!" Manuel answered. It was true. Static electrically charge brooms pulled anything not nailed down out by the roots and left very clean surfaces. They could be employed automatically, of course, and often were.  Even though, Mark preferred on-site monitoring. Mark did a walk through at the beginning of each shift. The weather looked clear for tonight, but it was too close to budget-time to take any chances.

 

Schechter in Santiago

                                                               Schechter

 

Solomon Schechter was born in Vienna in 1934. His Jewish parents arranged for friends to take him to England in 1937. Schechter grew up in London where German was spoken in his home and English at school. He could remember nothing of Vienna or his parents and never saw them again. His "parents", who were non-Jews, told him that they left Austria because of the difficulties the war brought.  He was told about his parents and his origins when the war was over. He was 11 years old at the time. Up till then, he had to suffer the taunts of his classmates who called him  a "stinking Nazi" for his accent and "parents" who were Austrian nationals. Like so many refugees, after the war, Solomon was forced to confront an identity crisis in a world that had no real place for them. Like so many orphans walking through the rubble of the aftermath of WWII, from Paris to Moscow, from Shanghai to Tokyo, across North Africa, Indonesia,  and the once bright coastal resort cities of the Mediterranean, children wandered homeless and hungry with no real place to go. After the war of Independence,  Solomon went to Israel for a trip and decided to stay. He had found the closest thing to a home available to him.  

Now it was 2013 and President Romney and Vice President Ryan had been inaugurated, The world waited to see what this new administration would do to correct the very heavy economic crisis and hoped that stresses would be relieved around the world. The new president had vowed to unite congress toward this end. 

Schechter scanned through some news stories and then brought up the most recent data from their Doppler study and started graphing the results. "Mark will not be particularly happy about this", he thought. He looked at the fountain in the middle of the courtyard from his study. "I hope they enjoy their stay anyway".

 

It was late afternoon when Michael, his family and Laura arrived at Schechter's villa in Santiago. There was music coming from the courtyard, already in shade, and tables had been set up around the fountain as they made their way inside. There were already many people there and many introductions were needed. Dr. Schechter had gone well out of his way to make sure his guests would be comforable. Laura noticed Jan standing by the bar with a glass of something in his hand which he held up in greeting when he recognized her. She smiled at him and made her way over past three musicians dressed in colorful serapes, jeans, boots with spurs, and Chilean sombreros. Their music was sweet and special, spontaneous as if designed for this very evening. It was one of those moments when all things seemed to coincide into a perfect harmony. "Laura, so good to see you", Jan kissed her cheek. She was thrilled at it all. "And you Jan, likewise. How long have you been here?" "Since yesterday morning, but we've only been drinking an hour or so." Laura giggled and noticed his slightly inebriated state. "Have you eaten yet?", she asked. "Only hors d'oeurves, the shrimp are excellent", he answered as the music rose slightly and ended. "Come let's sit for dinner. Dr. Schechter has something he's going to tell us." "I hope we've  found something significant." Laura said as they made their way to the dinner tables. Michael will be so happy."

Exit 51

                                                       

                                                                             Exit 51

Exit 51 was part of the Oklahoma City major junction. It's official designation was  J1OK-51 but it was known as Geronimo by everyone who worked there and most of the locals. It was one of the eight primary "feeder" exits of the junction and was located about 20 miles southwest of the center of the complex. Geronimo carried three complete transport conduits which included 16 lanes of ordinary civilian surface traffic and one high speed rail line each. Four of the surface lanes were high speed as well. A total of sixty miles of the exit run could be covered in less than five minutes with translucent fabric in the event of weather risk beyond safety tolerances. The average thru traffic of Exit 51 approached 800,000 tons a minute!

Mark Green was the executive director of Exit 51. Lauren Bielec was his administrative assistant. There were over 20,000 employees at Exit 51; more than half of them were full-time. The year was 2294. 

Mark stood on the roof of the observation building and took a wide look along the intersecting concrete and steel lines of the exit. It was late afternoon and lights were already coming up into the darkening blue gray sky from the exit thru-ways.  He finished a cigarette and gulped down the rest of a cup of coffee. He was worried about their budget and whether they would be able to improve their kiloton rate  this next quarter. He liked to gauge the traffic flow  by the sound of the traffic hum. He came back into the administrative office and hoped Lauren wouldn't notice his smoking. "It's moving along out there, but I don't think we'll see anything positive tonight She had turned in her seat, away from a broad bank of viewing screens and replied, " We'll take the pictures and analyze them as usual." She looked right at him, her eyes direct and kind and her pretty little face framed by dark curls and added, "You've been smoking again Mark, you know it's no good for you". He was annoyed at her familiarity. After all, he was the executive director. All he could think of was the half eaten snacks she left in her desk and the equipment she would sneak out of the office. Somehow he remembered her sensitivity and that she "lived" here and decided to ignore his reaction. "Yes, we'll just go ahead with the observations and hope for the best. Gosh, I hope they give us some feedback on our budget soon." Mark looked at her and saw his own anxiety reflected in her face. So much depended on the expansion program approval. "I'll talk to Sam again in the morning", he said, trying to reassure her. He had a very strong feeling that they'd been through this before, but all he could recall was a light green and gray colored room.

The Seed

                                                                            
                                                                     The Seed

"You must have been really tired." Michael mentioned to her on their way up to their rooms. "I was totally out" she answered. "I was so deep into this strange dream that I thought I was in another room,  all white and green and gray and no windows and doors. I heard knocking from about a light year away! It was so odd till I finally woke up."  She looked at Michael. He seemed distant. "What is it?" she asked. "Nothing", he paused and added,  "It was probably the fish we ate at the cafe, or maybe all this Spanish." Michael smiled. "We were both very tired from the trip. Let's get some good rest. Good night." Good night Michael."  What he didn't tell her was that he vaguely recalled a feeling of being trapped in a room without windows while napping.

The morning was cool and the coffee sweet. Michael and Laura skipped breakfast and grabbed some coffee cakes and headed out to the "Rover", a Jeep Cherokee they used to shuttle the astronomers and crew up from the residence to the observatory platform. The driver smiled and spoke English with some sort of European accent. "I'm Jan, a graduate student assisting Dr. Schechter. Good Morning". He introduced himself and several landmarks on the way up. He was tall and thin and had reddish blond hair. He couldn't have been more than thirty, if that. He had not shaved for a week or so and he grinned broadly when he spoke. Laura took an immediate liking to him and his casual, modest,  and informed way. "So that's the seacoast?" She followed his words. "Yes, you came here from Antofagasta, just over there - see?"  "This place would make a great observatory", she joked.

They all laughed. "Indeed, and the richest view on this earth of the Milky Way at night. It's breathtaking."

The observatory included four huge large telescopes, each with hexagonal cell mirrors adding up to an 8.2 meter diameter. The platform also included several auxiliary telescopes. The large telescopes were housed in huge rectangular large box-like domes with metallic sheathing. The four of them together presented something like an advanced, space-age apartment complex appearance. All sat on an extremely large field, much like an airfield tarmac, perhaps more like a "spaceport". The platform stood close to 8000 feet above sea level and afforded extremely wide views of the desert, and, of course, the sky above.

The "Rover" party arrived at UT1, or "Antu" it's Chilean Indian name and entered the building through a lower side door. Up a set of steps to the main floor, they found Dr. Schechter by the instrumentation with a rolling cart and a single lap top connected to a high resolution visible and near-UV spectrograph. "Good morning Michael. Good morning Laura. We're just now setting up for tonight's measurements. Let me show you what we have so far."  Orange peaks surrounded by dotted lines that represented probable errors appeared on his computer screen. "Here's the 13.2 billion light year object, Fuzz ball we call it, and here's the sun behind it. Both are for hydrogen." Michael took a look at the two peaks, one superimposed on the other. "OK, he said. What about closer in?" Schechter showed him the next pair and Michael looked at him. "Well?"  "They're both just

where they should be. Sorry!" Schechter was matter of fact. "You mean all that work at Keck was just instrumentation errors?" Michael asked. "Possibly atmosphere or any number of subjective errors." He looked disappointed as well. "Well there goes that paper" Michael was visibly upset. Like so many scientists before him, he was looking at a null result. For every glowing radium experiment, there were thousands that just sat there and did nothing at all. One of the most famous null results was the Michelson-Morley Ether experiment which ultimately disproved the existence of a cosmic "ether" and yet opened the way to an entirely new set of theories about light and its propagation. This was on Michael's mind as Schechter interjected. "Not at all. We have good data and like all good little scientists, we'll complete the program and report our results. It's our job." "Yeah, another UFO story disproven. I don't like being classed as a "little green men" astronomer" Michael said sarcastically.  Schechter added, "Neither do I". They looked at each other for a long moment and then both of them started to laugh. This lightened the tension and soon Jan and Laura started laughing too. "We'll just do the job. After all, that's why we're here. Might as well enjoy it." Laura had a way of summarizing realities.

The Site

                                                          Chapter 3   -   The Site

It was a short flight into Antofagasta from Lima. Michael, his wife and teenage son Josh,  and Laura were early and hungry. With  a three o'clock appointment at Altacama,  a few hours till lunch, and a curiosity about Antofagasta, they consulted their tour guide, rented a  taxi and found the "Segunda Muelle" . They chose a table outside, under the shade of some palms, not far from two men who were talking and drinking beer. 

After fumbling at Spanish, and Josh and  Laura laughing at his feeble attempts. Michael was thoroughly frustrated. "Perdon, no Ingles, thank you" The waiter stood and smiled. "Sign language Dad"... Josh pointed to his open mouth and said "Food" The waiter laughed and handed them menus. Carlos had noticed all this and was smiling too at the situation. He offered his help.  "Let me help you please", he smiled politely to them. "The fish is always very good here. May I order for you?" Michael was relieved. "Please", he answered. Laura noticed the other man and asked Michael to invite the both of them to their table.

With the help of Carlos and his easy friendly translations they were treated to a warm local introduction to Antofagasta and its most popular features.  Miguel invited them to his villa for fried fish and music under the stars and offered to drive them all up to the observatory.

And so a somewhat bumpy beginning smoothed out. The meal was excellent and soon all six of them arrived in very good spirits to the security gate of the Paranal Observatory in Miguel's minivan. Michael and family and Laura were immediately shuttled up to the observatory. Miguel and Carlos waved them goodbye and good luck.

The ride up to the top of the hill, where the array of giant telescopes stood, afforded a view that thrilled most new visitors. The shrouded giant instruments appeared almost like dancers on the desert stage, an introduction to some kind of galactic ballet. Here in the powder blue sky the contrasting white of the  observatory housings were introduced as the hill receded with the climb up. It was breathtaking, truly exhilarating. It was worth the wait.

"You were right Michael", Laura acknowledged, "this was the right place".

Dr. Solomon Schechter greeted them with open arms and a smile. "Michael, your family and your assistant Laura. Welcome to Paranal".

Michael had first met Dr. Schechter at the University of Vienna during an event celebrating Christian Doppler's birthday that coincided with work the two of them had been doing on anomalous Doppler shifts for very distant objects. They had become fast friends. 

It was then in Dr. Schechter's apartment on a cool October evening that a new theory about a "bounded" physical universe was formally born. Certainly, bounded physical universe models, complete with energy, mass, time,  and space formulae had already been generated and discussed in the literature. This was something quite different though. It was based on a view of the physical universe as a type of developing entity, that followed a type of "intelligent design" and "grew" like living organisms  along the lines of current life evolution theories. More like a city "grows" on our planet than anything else. Call it advanced construction for lack of anything more definitive. Michael first looked at this idea while driving on an interstate highway and looking at signs that read: "New construction ahead. Caution. Road ends. Take next exit on right 1/2 mile."  He considered the possibility of "the end of the road" for the known physical universe. This was the first time he could mentally grasp an actual boundary to the physical universe.  Order on one side and chaos on the other.

Many papers, discussions and plans followed and now they were going to take a very careful look for some possible "construction signs"  at the very edge of the known universe.

They were led to their rooms in the "Residencia".  Laura looked out at the view across her small balcony. It was surreal. A  smooth almost Martian landscape with a blue-gray sky met her gaze. Reddish brown coarse terrain and distant low lying mountains across the horizon filled the afternoon panorama.  A person unfamiliar with the Atacama desert might easily consider this place an outpost for an advanced culture on some far away world

Cerro Paranal was not chosen for the beauty of its days, but for  clarity of the atmosphere by night.  The nights skies were dazzling for their brilliance.

This had been a long day for Laura and she took her shower quickly and shot into bed without even unpacking. The cool evening air came across the open patio and caressed her slender tired body. She nodded off as memories of the trip down from Lima, the taxi ride, their lunch in Antofagasta, and the ride up to the observatory with Miguel and Carlos played through her mind. She wondered what it what be like to work with Dr. Schechter. He got on so well with Michael. She was deep asleep, dreaming of a room with off-white walls and green and gray furnishings, different, perhaps Chilean, when Michael knocked on the door. She heard the knocks as if from a great distance, but couldn't quite disengage from her dream. Again, the knocks, and she wondered what they were and where the exit to the room was. She saw no door, no windows. Then finally she woke and opened her eyes and heard Michael. "Laura, are you there?" He assumed she was either deep asleep or out. "Michael, yes,  I'll be right with you. Give me a few seconds to dress" . "No hurry, I'm just down the stairs. We're having a snack or something. Take your time".

She looked at her watch. "Goodness, it's been four hours!"  She was still tired and had a mild headache as she followed the winding staircase down to the ground floor and waiting smiles and a nicely arranged buffet. Everyone was in good humor as they munched on celery and carrots, potato chips and dips, vegetables and fruits she couldn't identify as well as plantains and beans, fish and sauces, something that tasted like chicken salad and probably was. It was all very tasty and went very well with the wine and conversation.

"Dr. Schechter has already begun the survey".  Michael had begun filling in Laura on what she missed. "Apparently, he became impatient and assumed we decided to tour Peru." Everyone giggled. "Not so - we spoke on the phone about this. Don't believe him Laura, he intends to turn you against me".  He smiled. "We had ideal viewing conditions and I took advantage of the situation" , he explained. "See, didn't I tell you? He's out to take credit for the entire program." Everyone laughed as Michael continued. "No, seriously, he's invited all of us down to his palatial estate in Santiago where he has already begun his paper taking full credit for the program." Michael was laughing himself. He'd had too much wine. "Stop it Michael", Schechter interjected, "what he's trying to tell you is that I did invite all of you to spend a few days with me at my home in Santiago where I always do my study." Laura brightened at the idea and the cordiality of their colleague. "How very kind of you Dr. Schechter. Thank you so much."  She meant it. This was turning into a very good trip. It felt like they were on their way to a significant discovery. This expedition into the unknown seemed to be following an auspicious path.