Dust Sample

Summary: "That rock sample you gave me, where did you get it?" "Mare Imbrium. Come out to my cabin and I'll show you how I did it."

Head cannon goes off. Fluttering sign dropping out of the smoke says, "I Don't Own Harry Potter But I Do Play In The Forbidden Forest."

"Geology department. Professor Rogers."

"Afternoon Evan," Greg Hobson said into his phone. "What did you think of the sample I sent you?"

"I'm glad you called, Greg. You've always sent me interesting samples gathered on your travels but where did you get this one?" Evan Rogers asked.

"Oh, you know. Tap a hammer here, scrape a rock there," Greg answered easily.

"Okay, if that's your story. Here's mine," Evan said with impatience. "I gave your sample to one of my grad students. She came back with the analysis and a lot of questions. I ran it through some databases and came up with an unlikely answer. So I'm asking again, where did you get it?"

"Mare Imbrium," Greg said. "Come out to my cabin on Lake George Saturday and I'll tell you all about it."

Evan stayed quiet a moment as the insanity of the answer imprinted itself on his mind. But then, considering what the sample represented, it would be most satisfying to catch his friend on the joke instead of being the butt of it. "Okay. Saturday morning. And you are going to show me how you acquired the sample, right?"

Greg smiled as he said over the phone, "Yes I am."

Evan Rogers gave a soft grunt of disapproval. "This isn't some payback for taking Elisha home from Gooseberry Lake that weekend, is it? We're both adults now."

Greg's chuckle came over the phone, "Oh no, not at all. I don't remember much of that party anyway and pretty much forgot about Elisha. This is all straight up stuff,
Evan. So I'll see you Saturday early then?"

"Can't wait to hear your explanation," came the droll answer.

Saturday at Lake George.

When Evan Rogers walked into the shop by the lake cabin he saw a thing that immediately caught his attention. Pointing, he said, "Is that what I think it is?" His finger was shaking a bit as he stared at the large white thing hanging over the bench.

"Yes," Greg said. "That is a vacuum rated pressure suit. You can find almost anything on E-Bay these days. It was a practice suit used for astronaut training. Only have a few minutes to use it though. Had to rig an oxygen bottle inside then install a pressure relief valve to deal with inflation problems so I'm quite limited in usable time."

Evan stared at the thing then his friend. "You know what my grad student's analysis showed? Lunar regolith. Right now I'm still trying to figure out the game rules here." He looked at the suit again and said, "Are you seriously trying to tell me you … No. No, I'm not going for it."

Evan took a deep, relaxing breath and sighed it out. "Greg, you know what I do for a living so rationality is my trademark. It's been a well conceived and executed jest so I'll take the hit, we have a laugh over a beer and chock it up as the joke it is."

Greg moved to the bench, turned a tank valve and put an oxygen mask on. He waved his friend over and hopped up on the bench. "I can get my legs in but the torso section is clumsy and very heavy. Could you help with it?"

He moved to the bench and said. "I'm sorry but this is getting silly. You can't go to the moon much less operate a spacesuit. I think it's time to call it a day. Nice prop though."

"No, you can't go now," Greg said. "I need your help to get the suit on. The bloody thing weighs more than I do and donning it while hooked up to pure oxygen to breathe down the nitrogen is dang near impossible. Just have a little patience."

With that he toed his shoes off, reached up to grab a bar above the suit and wiggled his lower body into the legs. After a few more wiggles and quite a few adjustments he waved Evan over.

"Could you help hold the torso," Greg said. "It's quite heavy and cumbersome. When I get it on I'll need help with the helmet." He looped the oxygen tank strap around his neck and got under the torso section.

"Greg, I'm not sure this is still funny," Evan said. "Just what is it you are trying to accomplish here?"

"I'm going to get another sample for you," Greg said. "Now, just hold the torso section steady so I can crawl up into it."

Shaking his head at his friend's foolishness, and some at his own for going along with this charade, Evan gripped the heavy torso section and held it as Greg slithered his way into it. He helped fasten the waist and wrist seals then held the helmet out.

"And you think I'll believe you are going to the moon in this thing?" Evan asked with a frown on his face. It really had gone far beyond funny by now.

"Yep. I can put it on but I'd like you to double check the neck seal," Greg said. "Always a tricky part for me when I'm alone."

They both worked the globular plastic over his head then Evan helped position the protective cover in place.

He had trouble hearing the words said through the helmet but was pretty sure he was told to step back. He watched as Greg picked up a small stick in his right hand,
looped a string tied to it around his wrist, picked up a sample container in his left, smiled at him through the plastic and looked around.

"Just watch now," Greg said, muffled as it was. "Wait five minutes. If I'm not back by then, I won't be coming back. You're on your own then."

Evan saw Greg give his body a twist and a loud crack of air echoed around the small shop. When Evan opened his eyes, Greg was no longer standing by the bench. A quick look around and he wasn't anywhere in the shop building. Evan took a few steps forward to see how he'd managed to pull off a magician's trick of disappearing right before his eyes, then looked up for the mechanism that must have pulled him away from his sight. Plain ceiling there. No trap door on the floor either, only a bit of gray dust with a few bootprints.

That made him step back and look around again, muttering to himself, "Greg, you could sell this trick in Vegas but I'm going to wait right here so I can tell you off. Half a day wasted just so you can pull a stunt like this. And you know I took Elisha to her room, not mine."

He wandered around the shop a few minutes then was staring at the bench when a swirl of gray and white flashed in his eyes, a loud crack came to his ears and right where he'd started was Greg, smiling at him in his second hand space suit. His right hand still had that stick and his left held a sample container though now it was covered in dust. The suit material seemed to have sucked itself onto his arms and legs until he heard a hiss of air and they slowly expanded to normal size.

When Greg set the container down and reached for his helmet seal, Evan stepped forward to help. His hands touched chill cloth and he saw frost developing on the faceplate. The cold bit his fingers as he undid the neck seal but Greg was perfectly fine inside the helmet. At least one thing was going right.

"Got your sample," Greg said with a grin as he opened the faceplate. He held the canister in his hand, saying, "It's mostly dust but there's a few rocks in it. Is that satisfactory?"

Evan gave him a look. "I'm rather confused at the moment. What did I just see?"

Greg pulled his helmet off and began working the waist seal. "It's called apparation. I'd been practicing a long time before I tried a long jump. You can imagine how going to the moon is pretty risky. Getting back, even more so. Apparating above the floor could be painful, if not fatal. It's the sudden stop, you know." He grinned at the old joke.

"There are stories of wizards apparating to the moon but I think I'm the only one to live to tell about it." He worked at the waist fastening.

Evan gazed at his friend, wondering when he'd gone nuts. More to the matter when he himself had gone over the edge as the words he was hearing had internal continuity though the whole thing was obviously irrational. What was this 'apparition' thing anyway? Sounded like a verb but he was certain he'd never heard it before. It was a great presentation, though.

"Greg, I'm going to ask this not expecting a sane answer," Evan said. "Just what the hell are you talking about?"

"Help me with this," Greg said, wiggling down out of the torso section.

Evan grasped the suit and held it as Greg slid himself out of it, hefting it onto the bench. He had to rub his cold hands together which set him wondering all the more.
Greg grabbed the overhead bar to pull his legs out of the bottom part of the suit, smiling as he stood in front of the work bench.

"Tell you what," Greg said. "Let's watch the video first. That might be enlightening." He pulled a miniature camera out of the helmet.

The video came up on the computer screen, Evan saw himself standing in the shop frowning then there was a blur, the next instant there was only empty air then a barren grey scene with harsh contrasts and a perfectly black sky. Not just dark but an absolute blackness. The only sound was breathing. The scene shifted downward to show a metal can scoop dust up, a white gloved hand screwing the top on then the camera panned around.

Evan stared as the blue marble Earth showed in the utterly black sky for half a minute. When the landscape came back into frame, the mountains in the background were not just clear but razor sharp, no distortion, craggy and a sun-bright grey. The camera moved again to show a rubbled ridge then back to show the near ground. All grey with stones and a pock-marked, dusty looking surface. The shadows were so crisp it was like a knife had cut them from the light. It reminded Evan of what one man poetically described as 'magnificent desolation'.

The video looped several times then Evan said, "That's not possible. You can't have. What did I just see? Even the terminator was in the right place. This must be the most elaborate hoax I've ever seen. How'd you do it?"

"I apparated to Mare Imbrium, like I told you," Greg answered and held up his wand. "I'm a wizard. Apparation is like teleportation, only it's a magical skill. Wizards and witches do it to travel, mostly short distances but I've been able to push the limits a little. Okay, more than a little. Magic makes for an interesting life."

"You said ... magic," Evan muttered. "Like Alice said, 'Curiouser and curiouser'. I didn't imagine a joke this intricate. Great poker face too. I'm impressed."

"It's not a joke," Greg said with all seriousness in his tone. "Magic exists."

Evan thought of what to say next while Greg checked over the now dusty suit.
"Magic is fantasy. Magic violates causality. It's not possible. You can't violate causality, you just can't."

"Yet here I am with a container of moon dust," Greg countered. "How do you account for that?

"I have no reason to account for impossible things," Evan said with some frustration. "If magic were real then you could make things happen outside conservation laws and without history or process. That cannot happen. Nothing violates causality. Magic doesn't exist in the real world. It can't get you to the moon and back. It just can't happen." In his head he wondered why he was making this argument.

Greg smiled and said, "Yet it has. Therefore some part of what you just said is incorrect. Which part? Well, for now, accept the statement that I am a wizard and have done what I said I'd do. I have a way to prove it to you."

Evan chuffed air from his mouth. "You think you can? I'd like to see the evidence for that. Real evidence not some sleight of hand trick."

"Remember Gooseberry Lake?" Greg asked.

Evan frowned and said, "You going to hold that grudge for this long?"

Greg laughed and shook his head. "I was thinking of taking you there so we can talk."

"Kids have soccer this afternoon. I want to be there," Evan said curtly, now staring at the dust covered container on the bench. It was condensing water on its surface. That was odd.

Greg grinned. "How about by lunch?"

"That's ... I was going to say impossible again. It's a hundred miles from here. You have a helicopter in your back yard?" Evan asked, still looking at the dampening container.

Greg held up the stick Evan had seen before and said, "Experiential learning opportunity. Up for it?"

Evan blinked repeatedly as he gazed at the stick, thought a few moments then let out a long breath. "Sure. Why not? Let's finish the jest. What's the plan?"

Greg moved close and said, "All you have to do is take my hand and hold on. Then you'll see what can't be done."

"Alright," Evan said, shaking his head at the continuing foolishness. He held out his hand to bring an end to the charade. "Show me the impossible. Violate my reality."

Greg gripped the hand held out to him, thought of the lake and the campsite there, turned and felt the gut wrenching tug then landing quite well, only ten feet from the lake shore across from the state park.

"That was the impossible," he told his wild-eyed friend. "What do you think? Ready to accept what I'm telling you now?"

Evan didn't answer but looked around his new surroundings a few moments then walked to a tree near a fire ring and picked up two stones. He tossed the first one in the water then the second, some few feet from the first, and watched the ripples for a full minute.

"Well I'll be," he said. "I don't think you could have faked the interference pattern then there is the resultant moire pattern after that. Way too much detail with no discernible data dropout. If I'm not hallucinating the simplest explanation is you are telling the truth. From that I must assume you have a purpose going to this extreme abuse of my sensibility. What is it you want from me?"

Greg chuckled. "Exactly. I thought you would figure that out. You know, I sometimes wish I had gone into science instead of business but I could never handle the heavier maths involved. And yes, I have a purpose."

He started to walk the lake trail and motioned Evan to join him. "After magic training many of us have chosen to go to NoMag schools to learn the other side of the world. There are many scientists among us these days and we agree with the conclusions of the environmental scientists that this planet is heading toward catastrophe. Pollution, energy usage, food production, extractive industry and massive overpopulation leading inexorably to the heat death of the planet. We see disaster on the horizon like an Augurey... Never mind the metaphors. Disaster is coming and we want to stop it happening."

Evan barked out a short laugh. "You and a million others but there are millions more that only care for this month's bottom line. They control the economy, they have the money and the power. It's a righteous idea but you'll end up as roadkill on the side of the highway if you try to interfere."

"But we can make a difference," Greg said jovially and held his wand up.

Evan snorted once. "Won't work. Putting energy into an unstable situation doesn't calm things down. Shake a stick of old fashioned dynamite weeping nitroglycerin and it blows up. That is an inevitability. You become a red mist. Forcing an action on unwilling people is shaking the unstable dynamite."

"Which is why I'm talking to you," Greg said with a hint of a smile.

"To sum up," said Evan. "You're a sorcerer ..."

"Wizard is the proper term," Greg said.

"A wizard," agreed Evan, "and you want to change the world to avoid catastrophic failure. I can understand the idea. It's a noble and worthy goal. Many noble and worthy goals came to bad ends. First thing is the system you think needs to be stopped is not some nameless, faceless ogre. It starts with the miners drilling, blasting and mucking an ore vein leading to a washing machine in the department store. "Now, as an exercise for your mind, do you have any idea how many people make their living getting that washing machine to the end user? No? They lose their jobs for your vision. What will you do for those people? What are you going to provide for them to continue living meaningful lives?"

Greg didn't say anything. He couldn't. His mind was still trying to catch up to the words he'd just heard. "No, I guess I haven't thought of everything," he said, "but there has to be a way. I have a wand and can make a difference."

"Think of your proposal this way. You have a set of goals and, presumably, the powers to make it happen," Evan said. "Where in all this is your engineering and business plan? You have a concept and perhaps the means but you do not have a process. What were you planning to do? Wave your magic wand, stop the bad things and everyone goes home happy and content? You're not seeing the consequences of your action. Simplistic solutions tend to destroy complex systems by destabilizing that system. A lot of people are hurt that way. Look at corporate buyouts as an example. Simple profit and massive layoffs."

"But I can make changes." Greg frowned in exasperation.

"What I'm hearing is sudden and radical change. Revolutions rapidly spiral out of control," Evan said. "Lenin succeeded in overthrowing centuries of czars but never saw his ideologist Stalin moving to replace him, Beria tagged along and millions were murdered. Do you have a plan for that or were you thinking of waving that wand again and exercising even more power to accomplish your goal? Like Lenin, you'll start a revolt-based feedback cycle that may well destroy everything and everyone you are trying to save."

Greg threw his arms up. "Don't you see? If someone doesn't do something and soon, the whole world is going over the cliff."

Evan gave him a harsh look. "Words from a true fanatic. Do this my way. My vision is the only right one.' That's what I'm hearing."

Greg halted with an angry look. "It's not just my way, it's the only way I can see to solve the problem."

"Then your vision has the fallacy of intent," Evan said with finality.

Greg held his breath for a moment and let it out in a long, deliberate sigh. "Okay then, what's your answer?"

Evan almost smiled at his friend finally getting to the point. "It's not in revolutionary changes as that will prime revolt leading to anarchy and chaos. Positive feedback will be unconstrained. When that happens in come the warlords, be they military or political or capitalists. The point is there is no answer, not an easy answer you can give with that magic wand you're flailing about. Actually, there is one answer but I don't like it."

With a bit of sarcasm Greg asked, "And what is that?"

"Simple solution. Remove seven billion humans from the equation," Evan said. "That'll balance the scales and in a millennia or so you'll have your lovely picture of a fairy garden."

Getting red in the face Greg angrily said, "It's not a fantasy world I want, just one people can live in."

"By destroying the entire economic model on the planet," Evan said. "Great plan. You could do it, I think. There are enough bottlenecks in the system. Like blowing a bridge in front of an advancing army. But they'll just build a new bridge and mow your dream world down. Wielding power isn't the way. Changing patterns, maybe."

Breathing hard in the defeat and frustration of his ideas, Greg walked slowly to get himself under control. He didn't see the rigidity of his gait.

"First lesson," Evan said. "Learn to control your emotions or people much more skilled than I will drive you to ideological suicide. It's how corporate control works. Find the problem child, corrupt, sequester or just kill them. The real trick is to change desires, to get people to want less, to make greedy people not be avaricious. So far as I know that hasn't been successful. Ever."

"Okay," Greg said slowly. "How? You've thought about this so what can be done?"

"Don't know," Evan said. "A whole lot of people smarter than you and me have thought about this and come up with no plan that could work on a large enough scale."

Greg started walking again to give himself time to think. "How about the space thing then? There's a whole packet of asteroids out there waiting to be mined. That would take the pressure off our way of doing things."

Evan chuckled. "Annual production of steel is about a million tons. Bring in a hundred tons of iron and you' ll barely affect the market. Bring in half a million tons and you destroy that market. Refineries close, jobs lost, money is siphoned off in bankruptcies as banks, stocks, retirement accounts vaporize. An entire economic sector wiped out. Not a good plan."

Greg shook his head to clear his mind. "So, no matter what I do, it'll go wrong? I can't just sit idly by and watch it all collapse when I can make changes."

"Yes, you probably could make changes," Evan said, glancing down at Greg's wand. "I said magic violates reality. Now I have to admit magic does exist so somehow it doesn't violate conservation or causality. So that brings us around to having to think how you can use a non-real talent in a very real way. That's the crux of the challenge.
How are you going to wield irrational power in a rational world?"

"Hmmm," Greg muttered.

"Got you thinking then, did I?" Evan said with a chuckle. "Well, I suppose that is why you brought me out here, a need to test a theoretical model against reality. So,
here we are. You have a magic wand, a righteous cause and no way to implement change. Tough place to be."

Greg looked out across the lake with his mind rolling. After a few minutes he asked, "Any suggestions? You know we can't continue more than a hundred years like we are now. What can we do?"

Evan stayed quiet as they walked along the lake trail. Then he slowed and said, "There's always a resonant point in any dynamic system. You are in the business world,
though I still don't know where that is. Surely there are business models that show a balance point. Someone must know how to tip the scales at the right spot and the right time to make an evolutionary change. Find the resonance, find the balance and give a little nudge. Then manage the changes and bottlenecks as they come up. Know much about process management?"

"A bit," Greg said. "My job is mostly supply, acquisition and delivery. Spend most of my time negotiating with Asian manufacturers producing commodities. Tracking goods and money, yes, but not really process control."

"Learn more. Or find good people that can do it better than you," Evan said. "You might want to think about whether you are going to be a systems manager or a technician in the trenches. Maybe the power behind the throne, working in the dark and letting others stand in the floodlights. Guide the process though ideas. Keep your ideals to keep it on track."

Greg started walking at a slow pace again, defeated and dejected. "I guess I couldn't see the forest for the trees. Little changes, yes, better idea. Being in the background, good idea too. I suppose I'd have to watch my back. Not used to that."

Evan grinned at seeing the dawning light in his friend's eyes. Yes, you will have to watch for usurpers and plain old assassins, both the physical and economic varieties.
Corporate predators are every bit as cuddly and sweet as an angry grizzly bear. Caution and paranoia must be your style from now on."

Greg held up his wand and said, "This doesn't have the power I thought it had."

"Oh, it has power, I can no longer deny that. This magic thing is most interesting but I believe you are now seeing its limitations in dealing with a whole new class of competition. If you continue on you'll have to be ready for that," Evan said. "The question now is where do you go from here?"

Greg pointed and a small sapling doubled in size. "I've been so used to just doing magic I never thought past my wand. It's going to take some time before I can get my head around all you've said. Can I talk to you about it again when I come up with something resembling a plan?"

"I'd like that," Evan said with a small smile. "This magic has shaken my rationality a little, I have to say. Can you share more of it?"

Greg chuckled and said, "I thought it would make an impressive introduction to what I believed was a solution, but if I were suspected of handing off samples or otherwise interfacing with the non-magical world it would be very serious. Ten to life in prison type of serious. Getting caught by your side is capture and slavery. Neither works well for me."

Evan nodded. "I guess lunar sampling should not become a career. Having more regolith in my lab than everywhere else in the world just might raise a few questions too."

"Pretty much the problem, really," Greg replied. "That is one of the things I and my associates worry about a lot. I put a lot of work into keeping my shop secure and undetectable. Of course I have to ask you to remain discrete or you may get a visitor that will erase your memories of magic, me and this conversation. Most obliviators are pretty good but they can be a bit aggressive."

"Oh my. Hadn't thought of that," Evan said. "Better get rid of the sample in the lab. Evidence, you know."

"Hide it in your garage," Greg said. He sauntered close to the lake edge, flung a couple rocks into the water, turned and said, "I should be getting you back. I promised a lunch time return."

Evan held out a hand to help his friend back up to the trail. "It has been a very interesting morning. We should do it again sometime."

Greg gazed up then started laughing. "Anytime you want to turn your reality upside down then plot the overthrow of the world, just let me know. I'm sure we can think of something."

Evan spent a lot of time thinking about that day. No matter the various ideas he read about, corrective changes always ended in economic resistance and failure. But he knew the threat was real, time was running out for a populated Earth. Then he put his effort into researching the various theories and applications but none of them made enough difference, most papers concluding with dire predictions. Since scientific research doesn't deal with hope it became quite depressing and he put it in the back of his mind. He had students and research demanding his time.

It was a year later when he read a small article that pinged his memory. It didn't thrust itself forward as the penultimate solution but a concise set of plans for rewarded efficiencies, socio-economic reforms and a few new industries that looked practical and profitable. Several had already started up in Asia to use their generous sun and wind along with large scale recycling. Evan knew that was going in the right direction so he looked up the names on the paper and started in on the citations. That led to a multi disciplinary group mentioned in another paper. When he researched that he found a seminar picture with fifty or so fairly prominent researchers, economists and engineers.
Smiling in the back row was Greg Hobson. He wondered if any of them had interesting dust samples.

Head cannon goes off. The smoldering sign fluttering to the ground says: Please Review.