RIPPLES AROUND THE WORLD

Chapter 4 Strange Bedfellows

From Luke Girardi's encrypted diary, dated October 27, 2006

The dream world is very vivid, but it has one problem: nothing physical can be brought back, neither a souvenir or any notes. So I've decided to write a diary of whatever happens there, so that it won't be forgotten.

Because of the time zone difference, Grace and I had to be sure to be asleep at the right times: it meant an early bedtime for me and probably a very late-night dream for her.

In my dream I was in a darkened bedroom, with little visible but a bed illuminated by a couple of lamps to the side. That's minimalist dreaming; God obviously knew what we had in mind.

Grace was there. We hugged each other tightly for almost half a minute. Then Grace backed off and started dropping her clothes on the floor. I followed suit and my suit followed. We hugged each other again, naked, and sank down on the bed. Then – well, I don't have to go into details. I remember them vividly, and nobody else will be reading this.

Afterwards, we snuggled up in the bed. No point in getting dressed again, because our real clothes were back in the waking world. "You seemed pretty eager for this reunion," I remarked.

I think Grace blushed, though I couldn't tell in the dark. My only indication was her cheeks, which were resting on my chest, heated slightly. "It wasn't plain eagerness. I was afraid somebody might wake me up in the camp, and I wanted to get the important stuff over with."

"I think just talking is important too. I want to share your life. What's the mission like?"

"I haven't gotten to the destination yet. It's a valley, known in English as the Great Rift Valley."

"Probably where two continental plates join."

"Dunno. The big problem is that the mountains around them are almost impassible. So far they haven't built a modern road through them. We had to stop on the far side of the range and transfer all our stuff to horses and pack animals. It was rather weird, packing my laptop on the back of a pony. 19th and 21st century technology all mashed together. But the big problem is that, when crops fail, it's hard for the government to ship food in, and they are threatened by famine. And the poverty of the region makes the problem worse; setting up proper transport is expensive."

"Seems that the best solution would be to move out of the valley."

"Yeah, I thought of it, too, and asked Madame. It's a cultural thing. She says that in America we're used to moving around. Your ancestors came from Italy; your family came to Arcadia just 3 years ago, and you're going to college in Massachusetts. My family emigrated from Poland. But the people of the valley have been there for centuries, and have a bond with the land. If they did move to the capital, they'd be landless refugees, cut off from their crucial roots."

It was hard to relate to a "bond with the land" idea; I thought of the world in terms of a science that was the same anywhere. "Well, she's the expert, I guess."

"But tell me if you've heard anything else about that briefcase."

"I don't want to distract you from important stuff."

"I WANT to be distracted! I've got another day of riding ahead of me. You can't play with your electronic gizmo while guiding your horse. Yeah, the mountain scenery gets spectacular sometimes, but the rest of the time there's nothing to look at but the rumps of the horses ahead of you. Tell me."

"Okay." So I told her about the visit to the lab.

"You think something sinister is going on?"

"Can't tell. I mean, it seemed nice of them to let me use the machine immediately. But they didn't wait for me to finish so that they could resume work. They didn't even ask how long I needed it, so they could come back later. Instead they just left the scene, without leaving their names. As if they were trying to stay below the radar."

"Would you have been suspicious if you hadn't seen the briefcase?"

"Good question. I don't know. But God must have called attention to the briefcase for a reason."

"She was talking to me."

"Yes, but where are you more likely to see somebody with a briefcase – a primitive farm or the Boston metro area? I think it was a message to all of us."

"What will you do?"

"I don't know yet. I'm thinking of hacking into the lab security files, and see who's allowed to get in at night. But if I get caught, the lab is likely to complain to the university that we're violating the agreement. And how could I explain that I was carrying out a divine directive, not trying to assault their lab? I could get expelled."

"Better not risk it, Luke."

"Is this Miss Rebel talking?"

"There are degrees in this thing, Luke. I think that someday you're destined to discover something great for humanity – but only if you stay in school." Suddenly Grace shook, as if having a seizure.

"What's happening?"

"I think somebody is trying to wake me up – bye, Luke."

She hugged me tightly. One moment it was very physical, her breasts pressing into my chest. The next moment she had vanished into thin air. And then I woke up.

I was back in my dorm room in Cambridge, of course. My roommate seemed fast asleep on the other side; he apparently hadn't heard anything odd. I tiptoed to the computer, logged onto my diary, and started typing this in before I could forget anything important.

But just how important is any of this?