The Twins Paradox, Alan Gasparutti [online e reader txt] 📗

more pints.
By 1.30 a waiter came to collect their lunch-plates, and by 2.00, they were still in discussion at their table. Professor Wagstaff thought they had forgotten about the digital car, until Clint turned the debate full-circle and brought it up again.
“Why don’t we have a ride in it now,” Dermot suggested. “It’s only a short walk away, in the car park of the Californian hotel.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Frank, before turning to Professor Wagstaff. “Will you be okay to drive?”
“I should think so,” he replied. “I haven’t been drinking too much alcohol. I’ve a weak bladder, you see. Why don’t the three of you stay here while I go and pick up my car - I won’t be long.”
It wasn’t long before Professor Wagstaff arrived in his digital car. Frank and Clint seemed quite impressed, but preferred to ‘check it out’ before giving it their full approval. Frank went to sit in the front to help with directions. Professor Wagstaff was pleased at first, until he was directed onto the local highway.
“Now we can see how fast this thing goes,” Frank said to the others.
“Are you sure we’ll be alright on this road?” Professor Wagstaff queried. “Perhaps we can come off at the next exit.”
“I shouldn’t worry too much about driving,” Frank reassured him. “You won’t have to worry about any traffic coming our way.”
“He’s right, Arthur,” Dermot said to him. “You’ve driven on motorways in the UK and Europe.”
“Why don’t we come off at the next exit?” Professor Wagstaff suggested again. “How far is the next exit, by the way? We can then stop somewhere and take a look at the car, what do you say?”
Clint looked at the US road atlas stored at the back of the car.
“15 miles,” he told Professor Wagstaff.
“That’s fine,” said Frank. “It’ll be a good distance to show how the car performs, and to judge the car.”
Professor Wagstaff agreed, not that he could do much else of course. However, his fears soon receded. As Frank, Clint and Dermot discussed the disappearance of the new moon, Professor Wagstaff carefully avoided the discussion, before trying to change the subject.
“Is anyone coming here from NASA?” he asked.
“I think my old buddy, Dr Steve di Pierri, is due to come along,” replied Frank.
“He was coming, don’t you mean?” Dermot chipped in, as Frank turned around to look at him, a little puzzled. “Haven’t you heard? His car was blown-up last month.”
“What!” shrieked Frank, his eyes almost popping out with amazement, as he turned to Clint. “I don’t remember hearing anything about this – do you?”
Clint was as amazed as Frank and said he couldn’t recall hearing anything about any car bombs in the US, either.
“Well I’ll be damned,” commented Dermot. “Perhaps it was because you’re living in a different state now.”
“No, I’m sure we should have heard something of that magnitude on the US national news, don’t you?” Clint said to Frank.
“Is Steve dead?” Frank asked Dermot.
“Oh no he managed to survive,” Dermot told him. “Apparently, the car exploded when he pressed his fob to unlock the car door. Fortunately he was about six metres away when it happened.”
“Did you say this happened last month?” Frank asked Dermot.
“Sometime last month, I don’t know the precise day,” replied Dermot. “I only know second-hand. If you want to know more, the best person to speak to would be Dr Ferguson. He’ll be representing NASA at the convention.”
Frank thought to himself for a moment. Perhaps he was worrying for nothing, and becoming carried away with fear. However, he didn’t really know Dr Ferguson that well, and wasn’t sure whether he was the right person to query this issue with.
“Who told you about Steve?” Clint then asked Dermot.
“Robbie Langham, I believe,” said Dermot.
“Do you mean Robert Langman?” queried Frank.
“Probably,” Dermot replied. “I don’t know the chap personally, you understand. I only heard about this over a couple of phone calls with the chap.”
Clint could see Frank was apprehensive, and had a fair idea what was concerning him. When he saw a sign coming up, he noticed it was for a serviceway, so suggested to turn into it a mile ahead. To change the subject again, he began to discuss the car with Professor Wagstaff. He, too, was happy to change the subject on this occasion.

After Professor Wagstaff found a place to park at the serviceway, he and Dermot went to buy some coffees and cakes, while Clint and Frank found a table to sit at.
“I don’t like it,” said Frank. “I don’t like it one bit! Steve’s car is destroyed a month after the new moon went missing. I’ll bet someone had it rigged, after he tried to get the case about Jenna re-opened.”
“Who’d want to do that though?” Clint asked him.
“The state probably,” replied Frank. “The Military perhaps? I wouldn’t put it past the President, particularly this one. Someone in authority arranged it all.”
“Sssshhhh!” Clint told him. “You can’t go saying things like that. We don’t even know the full story.”
“You heard what Dermot said,” Frank replied.
“Yes, and he said he only heard that second-hand,” Clint advised him. “That means you heard it third-hand. Anything could have been misinterpreted along the way.”
“What do you suggest we do?” asked Frank. “Wait for a suicide bomber to say hello? You’re probably as much in this as I am.”
“Yes, but let’s take things a little more calmly,” suggested Clint. “If we are being watched the last thing we want to do is arouse suspicion. Why don’t I call Corny, ‘see if he’s been affected by this in any way.”
Frank went to the gents, while Clint rang Cornelius’ mobile. An answerphone came up, asking to leave a message, which he did. Clint had Cornelius’ home telephone number so decided to ring him there. A young lady answered the phone.
“Hi there, can I speak to Corny please,” Clint requested.
“Do you mean Major General Cornelius Smith?” the young lady queried.
“Yes please, if he’s available?” replied Clint.
“I’m afraid Cornelius isn’t here,” the young lady replied. “He was sent to Afghanistan last month. He’s gone to help the British in Helmand province.”
“Have you spoken to him recently?” asked Clint, who himself was now becoming concerned.
“I received a letter from him last week, and I’ve spoken to staff at his military base,” the young lady said. “He’s okay, by the way.”
“Can I ask who I’m speaking to?” Clint asked.
“I’m Cornelius’ daughter, Jacquelinda,” she replied. “Can I leave a message for him?”
“It’s not important, as long as Corny’s okay,” said Clint.
“Who shall I say rang?” she asked, to which Clint was unsure what to say. “You’re from that space mission of his last year, aren’t you? Dad was always moaning about being called Corny.”
“Just tell him Clint called, to wish him well. Goodbye for now,” Clint then said in a hurry before hanging up, as Frank came along.
“Did you manage to speak to Corny?” he asked Clint.
“Not exactly,” said Clint, as he saw Dermot and Arthur approaching. “I’ll tell you when we get back.”
Frank was unaware of Clint’s call, and began to ask about the car. Professor Wagstaff explained everything, and after they had finished their coffees went to show the others how it worked. Frank, Clint and Dermot weren’t totally astounded, as they knew the digital revolution was well and truly here. It made sense that, as digital tools became smaller and more powerful, something like a car would eventually arrive on the scene. They were very impressed with the car. It was environment-friendly and probably economically viable. It could be the next big thing in world development.
The four of them then left the serviceway chatting pleasantly with eachother. When they arrived back in San Bernadino, Frank and Clint went back to their hotel. Clint invited Frank to his room, and suggested to watch TV. It was then, while Frank was in a good mood, that Clint dropped the bombshell that Cornelius had been sent to Afghanistan. This time Frank became more worried than ever.
“You’re telling me that Corny has been sent to the wildest, most dangerous region in one of the most dangerous countries in the world?” he queried with Clint, hoping he had misunderstood something along the way.
“I’m afraid that’s correct,” Clint told him. “He was sent there last month, to help the British forces.”
“Well, we’ve had it, you know that,” Frank replied, throwing his arms in the air. “What do you suggest we do now?”
“I don’t know, Frank, I don’t know,” said Clint. “We mustn’t let this get to us – we don’t want to make ourselves more obvious.”
“With all due respects, this is a lot easier for you to handle,” Frank replied. “You’ve fought in battles and flown in space, half-expecting never to return.”
“Oh no, Frank, I never go out there thinking I may not return,” replied Clint. “If I fight, I fight to win. Even in the shuttle last year, I always expected to return. I studied the shuttle’s engines to see how close I could go and how fast I could turn her around.”
“Only in theory,” said Frank.
“Yes, but you’ve got to look at the theories in a positive frame of mind, or you’ll never make it,” Clint emphasised. “While we’re still alive, we shouldn’t expect someone to come and assassinate us.”
Frank went quiet, but thought all-the-more.
“Corny is in the military – he’s always likely to be sent somewhere in the world, whether it be for the US or on behalf of the UN,” said Clint. “Have you had any reporters or journalists coming to visit you, to get your opinion on the vanishing moon?”
“No,” replied Frank.
“Don’t you think you’d have been the first person they’d have come to, in search of an answer?” Clint asked him. “You were the person who closed the case on the asteroid?”
“Under instructions from the Secretary for Defence,” Frank emphasised.
“And if you were quizzed by a journalist about closing the case, would you tell them that it was under instructions from the Secretary for Defence?” asked Clint.
Frank stuttered a little as he stopped before saying what he felt like saying.
“You wouldn’t, would you?” Clint said to him. “You’d know you had too much to lose if you implicated such a senior person. Besides, he’d deny any allegations and it would be his word against yours.”
Frank thought to himself.
“The fact that journalists haven’t come asking why you closed the case suggests to me that they have other matters to go after,” said Clint. “We’re both retired now – nobody wants to know us.”
“I hope you’re right,” Frank said to him. “It doesn’t explain the disappearance of Jenna, does it? I’ve always been suspicious about that asteroid, satellite or whatever you want to call it. The case may have been closed with NASA, but that won’t stop the Europeans or Russians examining the case.”
“Well if Dermot or any Rusky wants to open the case with their space agency, that’s not our responsibility,” stated Clint. “And it ain’t going to be Mr Luddolman’s either.”
“That’s a point,” said Frank. “Shall I speak to Dermot about this tomorrow, and ask him to re-open the case?”
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Clint suggested. “The European Space Agency probably never even closed the case. They probably had very little information on the matter, which may be why they intended to visit the asteroid.”
“But we can’t do nothing about this,” said Frank.
“You’ve done your piece of work for this country, and so have I, several times over,” Clint replied.