Chapter 4: Gadget Makes Children Cry

Tammy raced up the staircase, leaving Herbie and Beth far behind. In no time she reached the door to the meeting hall. The doors were closed, but the loud buzz of conversation could be heard beyond. She stopped for a moment to rest her paw on the hall's dedicatory plaque on the wall nearby. The plaque featured a portrait of a squirrel that was thoroughly covered by that paw. The words "Richard Chestnutt Hall" above and "...gave his life to save 28 others during the Great Fire of 1985" below were still visible. She took a deep breath and removed her paw as her sister and friend caught up to her.

"Here we go," she said, pulling open the door.

The door opened into a narrow hallway extending a little ways right and a long ways left to open into the hall itself. Herbie and the two squirrels emerged from the hallway to see three large banners extending across the high ceiling of the large room. One read "Congratulations", a second read "Tammy Chestnutt" and the third read "Herbert Tanglefoot, Jr." The two last banners were arranged so there was a 50 % chance which of them you would see first on entering the hall - the result of a careful compromise between Isabel Chestnutt and Binkie Tanglefoot.

Tammy didn't break her stride; making her way past numerous congratulating adults and teenagers to try and reach the open door at the other end of the convention hall that led to the branch the Rescue Rangers would be taking to arrive. Not only the people stood in her way - Tammy also had to fight through strong feelings of nostalgia from "Molly", who kept bringing up the strongest emotions Tammy had felt towards each of the people she was looking at. She finally reached the other edge of the crowd, but alas she was too late, as the Rangers had already arrived and they were fully occupied in being greeted by the Herzogs.

The Herzogs were the squirrel family that lived on the floor beneath Tammy's apartment. The booming voice of Ken Herzog could be easily heard across the hall: "As I was just telling my darling daughter Sandra, these are the brave individuals who diffused that nasty hostage crisis in this very room six month ago while she was at the Academy. What was the name of that criminal running the operation? Spumoni? Mascarpone?" The teenage daughter referred to was standing next to her father, giving Chip a rather predatory look. Tammy had heard stories about the fates of the other poor individuals to fall victim to that gaze. In despair, Tammy stopped right where she was and balled her fists at her sides, saying, "But that's not fair!"

A dove, thinking she was addressing him, glanced from her face back to the sports section of his newspaper. "The Yankees can't win them all, kid."

Just then a paw came down heavily on Tammy's shoulder. "There you are!" her mother proclaimed. "Have you forgotten about your speech?"

Tammy fumed. "Of course I haven't forgotten - why do you think I'm trying so hard to get to...oh. You mean that speech. Very well." She turned reluctantly away from her quarry and allowed herself to be led to the stage.


Herbie looked down at the little hand grasping his wing. "I better get you to your mother," he told Beth, before leading her up the steps at the rear of the convention hall. These led onto a small stage which had a dual use: one half had a microphone on a stand and a mini-flashlight pointing at it for speeches, while the other half was where the party's food was being served.

"Well, I suppose I might as well get it over with," said the gray squirrel at the microphone, squinting out at the crowd. "Could Ms. Hackwrench please join me on the stage?" The speaker was tall, but stooped with age. He was wearing a dark suit and spectacles and holding a faux-leather bound article in one hand. Herbie recognized him as Professor Julius Hoppernickel, Tammy's grandfather and one of the teachers from Allegheny Academy. The professor had been the one who had convinced Herbie, Tammy and their families to apply for admission to the academy four years ago.

From his vantage point on the stage, the teenage dove had a good view of the Rescue Rangers below. Mr. Herzog was loudly proclaiming his admiration for all things Rescue Ranger to Monterey Jack. Sandra Herzog and her friends were gathered in a ring around Chip that followed him as he carefully made his way to the stage. Gadget was well ahead of him, the eyes of most of the males and many of the females following her. Dale was kidding around with some children, the younger brothers and sisters of the sophomores being honored tonight. Foxglove, as a relative newcomer, was more an object of curiosity, while Zipper, as was sadly the norm, was ignored. In addition, Herbie spotted his mother, trying to use a wingfeather to wipe a smudge off the bill of a squirming Tank. There was an empty spot next to Binkie Tanglefoot to mark the place her salesdove husband had been standing in the split-second before Gadget had entered the room. Herbie tried to spot Tammy as well, but he didn't have to search long, as Tammy's mother dragged her up the steps and into the wings. Mrs. Chestnutt gestured to Herbie and Beth to join them as well.

"You two are on as soon as my father finishes with Gadget," Isabel explained, "and I think it would be distracting to have anybody eating up here while somebody's talking."

The moment Beth discovered there was something she couldn't do, she found she absolutely had to do it. "But Mom, I'm hungry!"

"Beth, shush."

Beth sighed. "Yes, Mother."


Gadget walked onto the stage, her lab coat swirling dramatically behind her. The crowd applauded warmly. When she reached the professor, she held her hand out in greeting. The professor stared at it until she put it down.

"Now then," the professor told the crowd, "you all know Gadget here as a fantastic inventor and an integral member of the Rescue Rangers, but recently she decided to branch out into my field of theoretical physics. Two months ago, the mouse you see here wrote to ask for my assistance on a paper she was writing. She had taken on String Theory, which attempts to explain the entirety of Creation in mathematical terms that only less than a hundred beings on Earth can comprehend, and turned it into child's play. I wouldn't be surprised if her 'musical method' is eventually used to teach String Theory to high school students." The crowd was having difficulty telling if the professor was praising Gadget or being sarcastic.

"I had the harder job," he continued, "of proving mathematically that her explanation worked as well as the obtuse explanation we physicists have had to labor under for so long, and to 'sponsor' her paper for publication. You see, scientific publications usually do not like to publish the work of people without strings of initials after their name, but one look at Gadget's paper was enough to change their minds, and 'A New Interpretation of M-Space' was published in the June issue of the Journal of Small Animal Astrophysics." Professor Hoppernickel turned to face Gadget and held up the object he had been holding. "Ms. Hackwrench, I hereby present you an official bound copy of your article. I guess that makes you a member of the scientific community." The professor quickly joined the others in the wings.

The crowd applauded as Gadget accepted the article and stepped up to the microphone. She took a moment to flip through the pages. "Yup, it's all here! Well, I'm not one for speeches, but I'd like to thank J'SAAPh" (which she pronounced "jasaff") "for publishing my work, and I'd like to thank all of you for allowing me to interrupt your party for this little ceremony." She held up the article. "This is just the beginning, folks. My next article will change everything." She then walked off the stage and into the wings without another word.

Isabel passed her to stand before the microphone. "Well! That was...enigmatic. For the next item on the agenda, I'd like to invite my daughter, Tammy Chestnutt, to the stage."

Tammy sighed and pulled a crumbled notecard out of a pocket.

"Good luck," Herbie said.

"Thanks," she replied before walking out into the limelight. In truth, neither of them was worried. They knew well in advance that they would be required to give speeches, and so had helped each other during the week between finals and graduation to work out what they were going to say.

"It's not everyday that a poor city squirrel like myself gets a look at a genuine rodent-scale castle..." Tammy began.


As Tammy continued her speech, Herbie turned to Gadget, who was less than an inch from him, and found himself tongue-tied. "Cccongratuations on the paper, Mmiss Hackwrench."

Gadget's attention was focused on Chip, who was ponderously ascending the steps with the biggest pile of papers Herbie had ever seen in the arms of a rodent. "Hm?" she said at last, looking his way. Even distracted, her beauty was enough to send Herbie's knees knocking. "Oh, well, yes, thank you, and please, just call me Gadget," she said, before turning back and guiding Chip towards Professor Hoppernickel.

"Professor," she addressed him, "I hope you received those notes I sent you last week."

"Yes," he said, heavily. "I only just finished them this morning. They made for some...interesting reading."

"I can understand if you found the arguments a little hard to swallow. There were certain items I lacked the time, or the ability, to reproduce." She gestured at Chip's load. "Perhaps if we find somewhere a bit more private to discuss the offer I made?"

"Hm...yes," Hoppernickel said, frowning. "There's a dressing room in the back we could use." He tapped Herbie on the shoulder to get his attention, and then turned back to Gadget. "You don't mind if Mr. Tanglefoot joins in? As you must know, I will be leaving the country tonight, and will not be available for the next few weeks, so I took the liberty of making a copy of your notes for him to read. That way he can attend your demonstration in my place."

Gadget looked at Herbie like this was the first time she had noticed him. "Herbie? Yes, I should have thought of that myself. He will do nicely."

Herbie looked down at the stage in embarrassment. "I, erm, haven't finished reading your notes, Miss Hackwrench, but I should have them done by tomorrow morning."

The professor quickly stepped between Gadget and Herbie and pulled the latter aside, a worried expression on his face. "You haven't, by any chance, started reading the appendices yet, have you?" he asked in a low voice. The question seemed very important to the elderly squirrel.

"No, I'm still in Section Eight," replied Herbie, puzzled.

Professor Hoppernickel looked relieved. "Good, good." He pointed at the chest pocket in Herbie's overalls. "Is that it?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he continued. "Do you think I could look at them for a minute? You don't really need those appendices for the presentation and perhaps..."

"Professor, are you coming?" Gadget and Chip had advanced down the hallway that led backstage from the wings and were standing at the door of the dressing room.

"This conversation is not finished," the professor warned his former student, before turning to the two Rescue Rangers. "On our way!"

"...but I swear I have no idea how that got there!" Tammy told the crowd with a twinkle in her eye. As they laughed at her punch line, Tammy's eyes wandered over to the wings. She saw her mother and sister watching attentively, but there was no sign of Herbie, Gadget, or, most importantly, Chip.


Once the two Rescue Rangers and the two academics had reunited, the Professor closed the door, blocking out the sound of the crowd laughing at one of Tammy's jokes. Seeing a sturdy table along one wall, Chip happily put down the several pounds of paper his wobbling legs were barely supporting. "The torture, it's over!" he announced jokingly. Gadget gave him a hard look.

"Now then," said Professor Hoppernickel with a somber expression, "I have indeed read your notes about spying on alternate universes, and what you are proposing is far, far beyond what I would be comfortable having my name associated with. Can you imagine what would happen to my reputation if I were to sponsor a paper in support of such an...unconventional topic?" His eyes grew distant, as he contemplated the worst fate possible to an astrophysicist: "I'd never be invited to a conference again." He looked at her beseechingly. "Surely you can choose a safer line of inquiry? One easier to prove?"

"Prove?" Gadget asked in a dangerous tone. "You wish me to prove my claims? I may have accidentally given you the false impression that Musical String Theory was devoid of experimental confirmation in my original letter, but in fact the experiments I have performed with the Dimensional Viewer came first, and the theory came after. The reason I wanted the theory published first is because that was the only part I was sure the scientific establishment would accept. But that part," she said earnestly, pointing at the piles of paper Chip had put down, "that is the vision I had five months ago, a vision I plan to share with the world!" She looked up at Chip's worried expression, and realized she had been wandering into Nimnul territory again. "Yes, well with your help, of course," she concluded gently.

"And does that 'vision' include Appendix A of the notes you sent me?" Hoppernickel asked dryly.

Gadget winced slightly. "Ah...well, perhaps I should have waited until after the demonstration to show you that part."

"Yes, about that demonstration - I don't think anything less than seeing with my own eyes whatever wonder you claim to have witnessed would be enough to convince me of the truth of what you're claiming. Now if we hurry, perhaps you could show me your device right now, before it would interfere with the class trip?"

"That would be perfect!" exclaimed Gadget, "We'll just go over to HQ and...no, wait. There was some reason why I can't do that. What was it?" she asked herself in confusion. "Think, Gadget, think!"

Chip stepped forward, although he looked about as befuddled as Gadget. "Wasn't it a power problem or something?"

"Yes, that's right. Thanks, Chip! The device currently has a power problem, but I hope to have that resolved tomorrow morning."

The professor sighed. "I'm afraid I'll be halfway to Nepal by tomorrow morning. Perhaps you can find another sponsor, someone more sympathetic to your views..."

The worried look on Gadget's face made it clear that all other avenues in this direction had already been followed to dead ends. "No, wait!" she pleaded. "I do have reproduction pictures of its display..."

"I'm sorry, dear," he interrupted, "but you can't prove anything with 'reproduction pictures'."

"These pictures are very conclusive. They are unlike anything possible in this universe. Here, let me show them to you..." She walked back to the table, retrieved some photographs, and then presented them to the professor with a defiant look on her face.

The professor looked through the small pile of photographs more than once, first quickly, and then slowly, turning them this way and that. His expression grew more and more confused until, for a brief moment, he broke out into a panic. But he quickly fought that down, leaving a neutral expression on his face.

"While these may be interesting," he said carefully, "I'd have to see actual results in order to make any overreaching conclusions on the validity of your claims. Perhaps after Nepal, we can get in touch."

Gadget steamed. "Oh...oh..." she began, but then suddenly calmed down. "Actually, that sounds quite reasonable." She turned to look at the overflowing table of paper. "I've got a few notes I used to write the paper; are you interested in seeing those as well? I've got rough drafts, a list of alternate titles by Dale, my attempts to reproduce the images manually before I invented the improved photographic apparatus..."

The professor was already at the door of the dressing room, Herbie's shoulder tightly gripped in his free hand. "Perhaps another time," he explained, retreating, "as my granddaughter is having a graduation party, you see. So if you don't mind I think I better locate her and congratulate her on a job well done." The two exited the room, revealing a long line of love-struck sophomore boys and girls that had tracked Chip and Gadget to this room.

Chip looked at the pile of paper with trepidation. "Will you be needing me to pick those back up again? I'm just beginning to feel my arms."

"It couldn't have been that bad!" said Gadget.

"Were you holding them?"

"Hmm. On second thought, I better review them for inadvertent errors before the professor sees them."

"Do whatever you need to. Just please, please, don't make me lift them again!"

Gadget waved her hand absently in Chip's direction. "You're free to go." She advanced on the pile and started organizing the mess as he walked out the door, to be instantly surrounded by Sandra and her two friends. Seeing that she was alone, the entire male sophomore class got into a shoving match to determine who would approach her first. The winner, a towering mountain of a squirrel nearly as big as Tank, came up behind her.

"Hey," he said. "S'up. They call me 'Hematoma'. Wanna make out?"

She turned on him suddenly, her eyes bloodshot. "WHAT?"

"Hematoma" bolted, crying. "Mommy!" Gadget returned to her work.


Once past the maelstrom of male students, Professor Hoppernickel addressed Herbie: "So, you have read most of Gadget's notes - what do you think? Do alternate universes exist?"

"I'm aware of your views on the subject, Professor," Herbie answered cautiously.

"You're not my student anymore, Mr. Tanglefoot, and you never had to worry about hurting my feelings."

"Well, now that Miss Hackwrench's 'Special Theory' of Musical Strings has been expanded into a 'General Theory', it does appear that the existence of an incredible number of alternate universes is a central part of that theory, indeed, that the theory would fall apart if our universe were the only universe in existence."

"So she has convinced you?"

"It all holds together remarkably well."

"Yes, but you do not suspect how shaky her foundation is. I'll admit that I originally agreed to sponsor Gadget's paper for the base reason that it gave me a way to fight back against my colleagues, the majority of which believe String Theory is utter hogwash. But now that I can see the whole of it, and the photographs that inspired the theory in the first place...have you ever heard of John Nash? He won the Human Nobel Prize in Economics. Had a complete mental breakdown in 1959 for schizophrenia. His brain was so tuned to pulling patterns out of the noise that when it ran out of things to make sense out of, he started pulling patterns out of rubbish. Communist conspiracies planted in the want ads of the New York Times, that sort of thing. Now take a look at the so-called 'proof' of Ms. Hackwrench's paper - these photos contain nothing but static. She must have stared at them and stared at them until her mind snapped and started seeing patterns that weren't there. So sad. The same thing happened to some of my graduate students - it's the reason I switched to teaching at the Academy."

"May I take a look?" Herbie asked.

"Sure," the professor replied, handing them over. The photographs were chiefly remarkable for the immense number of colors employed. There were so many of them that they dazzled the mind. Otherwise, there was no pattern to be found in any of them - no black outlines, no solid fields of color.

"I can't really see anything, either," Herbie concluded. "This area in the middle of this one could be a figure, but if there is one, the picture is too noisy to be sure."

"There, you see?" Professor Hoppernickel said nervously. "This sort of thing is an occupational hazard of being an astronomer or a physicist, but when you're an astrophysicist, you get the worst of both worlds. Anti-gravity, perpetual motion, the secret fate of the universe - I get 'papers' on these subjects every year from assorted nuts wanting somebody to agree with them. Some of them get rather violent if you don't. Although this one," he referred to his copy of Gadget's notes, "is so well organized I was almost ready to sponsor it." He sighed, removing his glasses and pinching his nose. "Until I read the appendices. I don't suppose I can convince you not to read Appendix A before we've both seen a demonstration of that device?"

Herbie looked away awkwardly.

Hoppernickel sighed. "No, I don't suppose I can force that kind of promise out of you. You're a born scientist, Mister Tanglefoot, just like me, and a born scientist can't keep his snout, or in your case beak, out of the mysteries of the universe, no matter how painful. Just promise me this: try to remember how you felt about Miss Hackwrench before you read it." Herbie offered to return the photographs. "No, keep them," the professor replied, as he started walking back towards to stage. "Come along, Mister Tanglefoot, you have a speech to give."

Herbie followed the professor in silence, putting the photographs beside his copy of Gadget's notes.