Chapter 15: The Judgment
T-96 days, 12 hours, 18 minutes and 13 seconds (March 8, 12:41 PM EST).
"What was that?" Nimnul demanded.
As if to answer the question, Commander Gorski turned the corner of the powerhouse and sat down in his seat, tucking a wire cutter into his pocket.
Nimnul sighed and shook his head.
Professor Bergman leaned over towards the Commissioner. "Really, Simmonds? You would stoop so low?"
Simmonds smiled. "Just seeing how he responds to the unexpected, Professor."
Nimnul unplugged his equipment from the powerhouse cables and transferred them to a small handheld box, then pulled a starter cord on it. The box hummed quietly to life and Nimnul's computer started booting again.
The man known as The Bear sputtered. "What...what is that?"
"A backup generator. My own personal design," replied Nimnul.
"I've developed something similar for use on Moonbase Alpha," said Bergman. "But mine would never be powerful enough for a laser. Not at that size, anyway."
"This directly harnesses the energy from radioactive materials at 95 % efficiency."
"Ninety-five?" asked the Assistant Director. "How, may I ask, are you converting heat radiation so efficiently?"
"The generator relies on manipulation of the weak nuclear force to harness the energy of the unstable isotopes used as fuel...that and a men's size 10 tube sock, but I'd rather not get into the technical details just now."
Professor Bergman eyed the small box ruefully. "I'd love to see the equation behind that process sometime. But in the meantime, continue on with your demonstration."
Nimnul nodded. "Right. Miss Weir, fire."
Miss Weir turned the diffused beam on the can and solder and pulled the trigger on the joystick. After a few seconds, the solder melted, taking the plastic spool with it, and the can of drink popped, producing a cloud of steam.
The Assistant Director nodded. "Impressive."
Carolyn waved her arm in the air excitedly.
Nimnul blinked. "Err, yes?"
"Now Mr. Nimnul, what gave you the idea for such impressive technology?"
Nimnul hooked his thumbs into imaginary suspenders. "The laser is merely a re-engineering of technology from my original universe. The display is a spot of reverse-engineering of the displays in the alien ships. The generator is admittedly my own idea. It's really just taking electro-nucleo-static technology to its logical conclusion."
At the words "my original universe", Francine planted her head in her hands. "That's it, we're toast," she declared to no one in particular. To her surprise, none of the adults seemed to be shocked by this revelation, but then Nimnul had been self-congratulatory in the pamphlet everyone had received, and that included the tidbit of his extra-dimensional origins.
The major exception to the general lack of reaction was Carlolyn, whose eyes sparkled at the same phrase that had dismayed Francine. "Keen gear!" she exclaimed. "How exactly did you get here?"
"To make a long story short," Nimnul explained, "what I thought was going to be an interdimensional teleporter merely swapped brainwaves between myself and my counterpart in this universe."
"Oh sure, I can see how that that would work!" Carolyn responded, as her father gave her a glance clearly demonstrating his desire for her to stop that thread of questions right there.
"Nice to know someone understands what I'm talking about," replied Nimnul with a nod at the young woman as she walked over to where her father was standing.
Agent Maughlarde had wandered over to the railing that the Assistant Director nearly broke through. Seeing that it was still intact, if a bit bent out of shape, he leaned out over it to get a good look at the city. Alone of the group, he was still unimpressed with Nimnul. "You know..." he declared to Carolyn, who had just joined him. "I think I can see our old house from here!"
"Weren't you even paying attention?" she asked in exasperation.
"Hm?" her father asked absently. "Yeah, lasers, little power-doohickeys, that stuff?"
Carolyn rolled her eyes at him.
Francine, seeing that Nimnul was busy explaining the operation of his power unit to Professor Bergman, decided to join the Maughlarde family. "It's nice to see you again, Drew, Carolyn," she said quietly. "Nice suits."
Carolyn took this to be a veiled accusation. "In all the years you babysat me as a kid, did you ever seen me wear a dress?"
"Not of your own free will, no. I believe your exact words on the subject were, 'me, Frilly and Pink have agreed to disagree,' and I see your opinion on the subject has not changed. So, Drew, I see your step-daughter talked her way into another delicate situation where she wasn't invited."
"She can be very persuasive," Drew replied. "So, are you still enjoying suburbia?"
Francine shrugged. "It has its good days."
"Did I miss much?"
"After leaving Harford? It's been pretty quiet. So quiet in fact that the Masked Marvel retired. Right after you left, in fact."
"Did he now?"
"Yeah, I heard that, too," Carolyn said, staring accusingly at her father. "Rather a shame about that."
Drew looked curiously at his adopted daughter for a few seconds, then glanced over his shoulder at Nimnul. "You mind telling us what's really going on?" he asked.
Francine frowned. "It's...complicated."
Carolyn laughed. ""Well I'd figure that multi-universe travel would be complicated! Care to give any detail on that?"
Francine shook her head. In the last few weeks she had witnessed more scientific miracles than Norris' hero Edison had created in a lifetime. The theory that this was merely a deluded version of her husband was no longer possible. "I never was one for science. But...he's definitely no longer my husband."
"That's for certain. Has he cared to tell you anything about it? Or are we going to have to pry it from him?"
"Not much to tell. He decided he wanted to be emperor of Earth and failing on his own world, he picked this one."
"And he's the Professor Norton Nimnul?" asked Drew Maughlarde. "From the TV show?"
"Yes," answered Francine.
"Wow," said Maughlarde. "You know, Bergman and Irwin are considered the two smartest people in the world, but I don't think either one of them have realized the implications of him being here."
Francine grinned. "I think it's beginning to sink in."
Maughlarde frowned. "You don't get it either, do you?"
Francine stopped laughing. "Get what?"
Carolyn sighed. "He's Professor Norton Nimnul. He doesn't follow the physical rules of the universe, he breaks them like twigs!"
"...and all with very little waste."
"Very interesting," remarked Professor Bergman. "As you might know, the world has had a bit of a problem with handling the tons of nuclear waste generated every year. The original area allocated for it on the Moon reached capacity four years ago, seven years ahead of schedule. It was lucky we were able to get a second waste area on the far side of the Moon set up as soon as we did."
"And Moonbase Alpha?" Nimnul asked.
"Moonbase Alpha primarily exists to monitor the nuclear waste, to be perfectly frank," said Commissioner Simmonds. "The occasional surveys of the solar system and deep space that we launch from there are as much for publicity as for science. By the way, I'd like to take this moment to apologize to you about a little bit of misdirection regarding this demonstration."
"What misdirection?" asked Nimnul, perplexed.
"You see," explained Bergman, "The principle of the laser is already known to us. We picked it up when one of their ships crashed on the Moon eight months ago. Careful study revealed that the alien's 'death ray' was indeed a powerful weapon, but the power requirements were prohibitive. The aliens themselves use bio-energy to power them, draining the life of their terrestrial victims like some sort of vampire. No other power source was capable of charging and firing the weapon fast enough to get through their defenses."
Commissioner Simmonds, standing nearby, chimed in. "Every candidate for emperor we've had in the current crisis came up with the laser. The ones who got the job were those who had something more."
"And that power cube of yours is exactly that 'something more' we need to end this war, once and for all," added the Assistant Director, grabbing a hold of Nimnul's hand and shaking it firmly. "I believe we missed our introductions earlier, what with the runaway car and all! The name's Klaudaine, Assistant Director Aldus Klaudaine. If there's any way I can be of assistance, do not hesitate to ask! For example, you said you intend to take over the nation's infrastructure. That will require a K-31A form. If you don't accompany that with a pink #14 slip, the request will have to go through an additional seven levels of oversight. Most people don't know that."
Nimnul nodded slowly. "I've noticed this world is really fond of paperwork, so thanks for the advice, Mr. Klaudaine," he said, being careful to get the name right.
"Hey, Buddy! Bud! Look what I found! Can I keep it, huh, Bud, can I?"
Lou came out of the powerhouse leading a metal bulldog by a thick rope.
Bud came running over. "You put that back, Lou! I'm sorry folks, Lou didn't mean to mess with your experiment."
"Careful with that!" cried Nimnul. "I haven't gotten all the bugs out of his programming yet!"
"What is that thing?" asked Doctor Irwin.
Nimnul pulled out a remote control and started fiddling with it. "A robot guard dog and a companion of sorts. Unfortunately, there are some glitches in the programming I still have to fix."
"That's an awfully simple-looking remote."
"Do you mean compared to the ones used by Emperor Freewheel? Well, my remotes only provide guidance. The dog thinks for itself."
"Indeed?" Irwin started walking around the robot. "Its motion is quite lifelike," she observed. "It appears to be observing its surroundings." The dog bowled Lou over and started licking him with a metal tongue. "And it even shows signs of personality. I've never seen artificial intelligence so advanced! And it's self-contained! How big is the processor, Professor?"
"The same sort as in this desktop computer."
Irwin shook her head incredulously. "Well surely it's a different sort of processor-the dog's computer must be capable of holistic learning and lateral thinking, while the desktop needs to optimize for linear processing."
She kneeled down and ran her hand along the back of the mechanical dog. It responded by panting and wagging its tin tail. "If I wasn't seeing it with my own eyes I wouldn't believe it!" she exclaimed. "This shouldn't be physically possible!"
"...like twigs!" Carolyn repeated to Francine, as she and her father went to join the others by the mechanical dog.
Francine blanched.
Professor Bergman once again approached Nimnul. "Alright, I think we're nearly done here. I'd like your advice though, on some unfinished business from our last emperor."
"What might that be?" he asked.
Bergman pulled out a case file marked "TOP SECRET" and gave it to Nimnul. "Fifteen years ago, David here was involved in a project to improve human communications, a project run out of Kensington College by a former colleague of mine, Professor Hodgeson.
"The experiment was split into two parts. Adult volunteers like David here were implanted with circuitry that allowed them to directly connect with computers. Unfortunately there was a fault with the interface and..."
Bergman flipped a few pages in the case file to reveal a couple of photographs. They were not pretty. "David was the only survivor. Indeed, for awhile there, we were certain he was dead."
Nimnul frowned. "I must admit, I haven't done anything related to biology for some time. Given the poor success rate of the project, I'd hazard a guess that entirely the wrong approach was being taken."
Bergman nodded, and then flipped a few more pages. "The other part of the experiment, involving children, was even less successful. The children all tested positively for a minor form of parapsychological powers: the form of telepathy known as intuition, or enough telekinesis to get a child in trouble, that sort of thing. Professor Hodgeson invented a device, called the Kensington Identity Development System, or KIDS, that he hoped would allow the minds of the children to join into a gestalt consciousness. Now here are the schematics of the device that Hodgeson used. I was wondering if you can see any way to avoid a repeat of the unfortunate consequences of the last time the device was used." Another page was flipped, revealing another ugly photograph.
"Golly!" Nimnul blurted, "That's horrible! Those poor kids!" He immediately put his hands over his mouth in shock.
Bergman smiled. "Very good. I was afraid we were about to crown an emperor without a heart."
Simmonds smiled as well. "So it's a unanimous vote, then?
"I...I would never stoop so low as to experiment on children," Nimnul stated in a low voice.
Agent Maughlarde, playing with the iron mutt, looked up. "Yes, I don't really see any other choice."
Simmonds looked around for a dissenting vote. Not finding one, he stepped forward and shook Nimnul's hand. "Very well. Professor Nimnul, you are hereby appointed emperor, your office to last until the end of the current crisis. What name should we address you as?"
Nimnul stood as tall as someone of his stature could. "You shall address me as Norton II, Emperor of Earth and Protector of the Moon."
Francine laughed out loud.
"I'm distantly related to Norton I," Nimnul explained, sheepishly.
"I know!" guffawed Francine. "So was Norris!"
Simmonds shook his head in bewilderment. "Well, if our business is done here, we shall go. The forces of Earth..."
"...as well as the Moon..." added Gorski.
"Are now at your disposal," finished Simmonds.
"Oh, and if you'd ever deign to share the plans for that remote control, I just had a brilliant idea of how to use it on Moonbase Alpha!" exclaimed Gorski.
The men and women turned around and headed back to the cars to leave.
"A moment, if you will, ladies and gentlemen," said Francine, regaining her composure. "One final order of business. You know and I know that both of your organizations will attempt to plant spies within the new emperor's organization, and I know that if I expose them, you'll just plant some more." Klaudaine and Simmonds looked at their feet. "So therefore I am accepting one member from each group into Imperial employment. Whether or not these plants actually get anything useful to do will depend on their loyalty to the emperor and their good behavior. Any volunteers?"
David looked to Professor Bergman. "May I?" he asked.
Bergman nodded.
Assistant Director Klaudaine looked around. "Perhaps Doctor Elena Irwin would be the best candidate..."
"And abandon the work on my robo-bee saboteurs? Forget it!" she declared, climbing back into the car.
"A pity. I would have liked to have worked with her," mused Nimnul. "As a matter of fact, what I really need is a political adviser." ("And someone to fill out all those forms for me", he muttered). "Would you be available, Assistant Director?"
"Me?" Klaudaine thought for a bit. "Well, I do have about two years of vacation time built up. It sounds like an interesting challenge-I'll do it! I'll have to temporarily resign my position, to avoid the appearance of a conflict of interest, but I'm sure that the Gander will understand. There is also the small matter of my cat..." He pulled out his wallet and began thumbing through multiple photographs of a rotund purplish feline with a perpetually disappointed expression on its face, as if it disapproved of its master's choice to have a law-abiding career.
"No pets."
"Oh. Oh, well, I guess in that case I'll need to make a few arrangements with my regular sitter. It shouldn't be too hard for him-Greenstreet is very good at taking care of himself. Is there a phone around here by any chance?"
Francine directed him towards the telephone inside the powerhouse.
"Hello, Percy..."
Carolyn ran forward to curtsy and then vigorously shake Nimnul's hand. "An honor to meet you, your Excellency!" she said, before running to join her father.
With the four departing dignitaries in place, the two cars drove off.
Nimnul turned his head to meet eyes with David, who was still standing a few feet away. "I don't believe I caught your name?"
"David, David Kano," he said, approaching. "I'm an expert on computers and the conditions on the Moon. I thought you might find my services to your liking." He handed over a business card, explaining, "You can look up my references on this node of the Wired."
Nimnul stared at the card for a bit. "'September 14th Society'?' he read.
"A society of just two, I'm afraid."
"Is it your birthday?"
"No, but it is a day I very much wish to see."
Nimnul thought a bit, then shook the man's hand. "Very well. Talk to my assistant over there, she should be able to brief you on anything you need to know."
Francine walked up to Nimnul, looked around to make sure nobody could overhear them, then said one word: "'Golly'?"
Nimnul grunted in annoyance. "There was a certain episode...involving the telephone system and a teleportation device of my own invention..."
Francine nodded. "'A Fly in the Ointment.' We never got to air that episode."
Nimnul's eyes went wide. "You were going to?"
"Sure, if Agent Maughlarde hadn't shut the studio down. Let me tell you now, if you want The Company off your back, pay your taxes on time!"
"I can't believe you were going to air that, on a children's cartoon show. You people are sick!" Nimnul exclaimed.
"I liked that episode, myself."
"That was the worst day of my life!"
"I can imagine."
"No," declared Nimnul. "You cannot imagine. Being a half-hour program, I assume you don't know about the worst part."
Francine grinned impishly. "Surprise me."
"Telephone lines are notoriously noisy." Nimnul said this statement like he expected it would reveal everything, but Francine was stumped.
"So?"
"So, your episode may have ended nice and tidy with everything back to normal, but the fact of the matter is, those rodents and I were never completely separated."
This got Francine's attention. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, there are parts of my brilliant mind that are no longer my own! That there are thoughts and utterances that are not me, but them! And, especially...HER. The mouse, the one who builds tinker toys out of garbage." Nimnul rapped his knuckles on his head for emphasis. "She's up here, where she most certainly doesn't belong!
"At night, in my dreams, I'll be rehearsing my plans of world domination, when she has to stick her little snout in, and express her opinion. I'm sick of it! I hoped, when I built the transporter, that the trip would repair the damage, that I would finally be 100 % me again. But no, it appears I'll be stuck with those lousy vermin, forever!"
Francine was touched. "Wow. I...I'm so sorry. Maybe after this whole 'rule the world' thing has been accomplished, I can help you to cure..."
"You think I haven't tried!" Nimnul turned away. "Begone, woman!" he cried over his shoulder. "The world is mine in name, but now I have to take it!"
Francine turned and walked towards the powerhouse. As she passed the mechanical dog, which was playfully tearing a corner of the building apart, she remembered the worlds of her former neighbor and shuddered.
David Kano walked up to the beautiful blond woman who was busy putting the equipment away. "Lorina?" he asked.
"I had a dream about a month ago," she told him, without turning around. "There was this gray wasteland, littered with gigantic blocks and covered with several feet of heavy blue dust, endlessly swirling in the wind but never rising very high. There were no clouds, and the sun was clearly visible in a dark red sky. I was there, in some sort of spacesuit, because I could hear myself breathing. I entered the only surviving building, a tilted crumbling spire that was snapped off above the third floor. It was a miserable apartment complex once, I think, only built for giants instead of men. In a living room on a floor with no roof was some kind of shrine with a ripped banner that read 'The Man Who Could Have...'. 'The Man' in question was Norton Nimnul, and there was a big portrait of him dressed in rags but posing as Napoleon on one of the less-damaged walls. I swept the dust from several glass cases to reveal his inventions: a metal dog much like the one we saw today, the model for a cheap U.F.O., a simple Jell-O mold...I felt sure that I had been there before."
"You had been there before," David answered, gently. "It was in San Diego. Your father built that museum, and you spent most of your childhood there. You made that banner, Lorina, and you were the driving force behind our mission." He moved some hair aside on her head to reveal a faint white line. "It was your impulsive trip that showed me the dangerous effect the trip has on memories, so I could take the necessary precautions to preserve my own memory."
The woman shook her head, covering the scar. "I don't remember any of that. All I have is the dreams. And the questions you still refuse to answer. That's why calling me 'Lorina Liddell' is a waste of time. There's nothing left in me of her. 'Laurel Weir' is now not just the name I have stolen, as 'David Kano' is yours, it's who I am. You know what else I saw in that museum?"
Without waiting for an answer, Laurel turned, quickly grabbing David's left wrist and pulling up the woolen sleeve to reveal a thick metallic wristband. The device was covered with controls and lights. On a small screen was a photograph of David's face.
"I knew it!" she proclaimed. "We are the same! What do you really look like when you take this off?"
David put his hand over Laurel's mouth. "You must never speak of such things where they can be overheard!"
"Why? Is somebody after us?"
David looked around. "Perhaps. More importantly, we must not let any of them know the truth about us. We are completely powerless in our true forms, and the stakes are far too high to fail."
"But you told me the mission was to make Nimnul emperor, and now he's emperor. What more do you want?"
"September 14th, Laurel. I want September 14th."
