"Oh, God," Kim says, her tone bleak.
He can do nothing but watch the drill draw back inexorably. The energy emanating from the artifact is shaking the room, shaking the building or even the world for all he knows. Pressure builds in his ears. He thinks he's shouting, but he can't hear himself. There's a flash of light, and then --
-- it's dizzying: thousands upon millions upon billions of images and people and they say your whole life flashes before your eyes when you die, but he doesn't think he's dying and he isn't sure this is really his life, all happening at once --
"Time is supposed to be fixed; a straight line. Start here; you end here, experiencing everything in logical order."
Of course, Nathan knows better. But it's not as if he could explain it to Sheriff Gump.
He wonders if he'll go crazy, but of course, if he were going to, he would have. He supposes that's comforting, in a way.
Nathan's on a conference call when the security guards enter. It's late in the day, and he's taking advantage of the time zone difference to tie up some loose ends with Far Eastern vendors.
He's seen these guards around Global Dynamics before, but like everyone else, they've always been ultimately under his command. If they're discomfited by the role reversal, they're not showing it.
Carter is there, hanging back in the doorway, looking not at him or the guards but at the empty glass case on the wall. He's frowning slightly. Nathan can't help smirking just a little. Don't strain yourself, Sheriff.
"Nathan Stark..."
"A moment, if you please, gentlemen." Nathan nods politely at the guards, then turns to his monitors, from which the representatives from Tokyo and Singapore look out at him in slightly time-delayed bafflement. "I'm very sorry, I'm afraid I won't be able to continue our call. Someone from Global will be in touch with you shortly." He disconnects without waiting for their replies.
"Let me guess. 'Nathan Stark, for improper handling of government property, you are being relieved from duty. Our orders are to escort you from the premises at once.'"
Again, no looks of discomfort or surprise from the guards. Well, he does like to have good people working for him. Or maybe they're just simple. "We'd appreciate it if you'd come with us now, sir," one of them says.
"Of course." He stands up smoothly and walks toward the door, picking up his briefcase on the way.
His Nobel is inside, packed carefully in a slim box.
It's strange, the way the two timelines overlay each other. He's not there to see Henry send himself back; he only sees the effects. The two Kims, two Henrys, two Allisons, and far too many people named Carter for his taste. Only one Stark, as far as he can tell.
He only learns the details when Henry -- well, not apologizes, but explains. Henry's right, Nathan would never have let him do it. But he can't say he doesn't understand, and he has to kind of admire Henry for finding a way. At least now he knows what it would take to peel away Henry's idealism. There had to be something; there always is.
Henry and Kim offer to help in any way they can when they learn he's been fired. Nathan manages to keep his face impassive, manages to address the Kim Anderson standing in front of him and not the corpse in the chamber when he says he's fine, thanks. He likes Kim, but he can't get away from her fast enough. He can't get away from her at all, really.
The email has no headers: no date, no subject, no sender, no SMTP trail. Normally he would delete something like that unread, but for what he's paying his IT staff, anything that makes it to his inbox had better be a real message. He opens it.
Dr. Stark:
Woody Allen once said, "Time is Nature's way of making sure everything doesn't happen at once." He's a great filmmaker, but he doesn't know everything, does he?
I sincerely hope that you are finding your personal taste of eternity illuminating.
Your exposure is much less than mine, so I'm afraid that you are getting only a glimpse of the wonders I have come to know, and only a glimpse of what you want to know. That's why you can only see until the time the artifact is returned to containment. But you should still consider yourself fortunate! You're experiencing time and the universe in a way that the normal human mind can't begin to comprehend.
I told you that you would learn the true nature of the artifact, and you will. Consider this a learning experience, one which will help you expand your mind and prepare for what is to come.
Yours in discovery,
Carl Carlson
Nathan closes the inbox and sits, still and staring, for -- well, for how long, he's not sure, but then it hardly matters.
Allison keeps in touch faithfully over the years, with an email every once in a while about Kevin's progress with his new treatment regimen, or how Henry still misses him at GD. In subsequent messages, there is more and more she clearly isn't saying until finally he receives the letter about her upcoming wedding to the sheriff. It's nice of her, but she needn't have bothered. With a twist of his lip, he contemplates sending a note with his congratulations on her impending motherhood, but he knows he won't. They'd probably take it the wrong way anyway. He folds the letter into a passable model of Stark Industries' new fighter jet and sets it on the corner of his desk.
He wouldn't have expected to enjoy dating again. But it's relaxing, sitting across from Christine, eating sushi, talking about the few things at work he can talk about.
That night, she murmurs, "You don't have to, you know. I'm on the Pill. And we're both clean."
He thinks of Allison, her hand curled protectively over her belly as Carter steps into the machine. Callister, slumped against a bus in the dark.
"Better safe than sorry," he says.
Carter's about to go say his goodbyes to Allison. Nathan pulls him aside.
"I take a fragment of the artifact out of containment. Stop me from doing it."
"To stop Henry from trying this again." Carter nods.
"To stop something else, actually."
Carter narrows his eyes. "What's going on, Stark?"
"Do I ask you how to," he grimaces disdainfully, "'nail a perp', or what '10-4, good buddy' means? No. So don't question me when I'm doing my job."
"This is no time to be jerking me around, Stark," Carter says in a low voice. His expression is harder; he's lost his usual aw-shucks countenance. "You're asking me to walk into that room and give up my family, my whole life on nothing but your word, and you can't be honest with me? How about you go step into that -- that gizmo, and you can play hide-the-artifact all you want. I'm here to try to save lives, not your career."
As always, he finds Carter's self-righteousness tiring, but he's clearly going to have to give up a little more information. "The fragment is related to my exposure to the artifact, and to certain ... effects that have ensued. You'd be doing me a favor, and you won't be placing anyone in danger."
After a pause, Carter mutters, "Certain effects? Did you get some kind of radiation poisoning, or something?"
"Or something," Nathan agrees smoothly.
Carter looks him up and down for a moment. "Yeah, well, as long as I'm fixing everybody else's mistakes anyway." He turns to go.
"Thank you."
"I don't say '10-4, good buddy,' you know," Carter calls over his shoulder.
"All right."
"That's for truckers!"
He shakes his head and turns to the control console.
The company has been stagnant during his leave of absence, but that changes. The board is nervous at first, which is only fair. Although, really, "forced out of last position in disgrace" is not as rare an item on CEOs' CVs as everyone here would like to pretend.
He may have signed a non-disclosure agreement when he left Eureka, and he may be shut out of the real cutting-edge research, but he still has contacts within the scientific community and the military. They couldn't erase him from everyone's minds. (Well, technically they could have, but they didn't.)
Congressman Faraday returns his calls personally.
Somebody assures him that he "still has it", and Nathan just smiles. "I never doubted it."
When Allison finally calls him for help, all he can think is, "It's about time."
He doesn't have his Nobel packed up this time. He know there's no point.
-- he's still standing in the control room, but for some reason Jack Carter is here. Was he here a second ago? The door to the containment room is closing, and the drone isn't carrying its payload. He turns to Carter. "What did you do?"
"What you asked me to," Carter replies gently. "Come on, Nathan. Let's get out of here."
