Message-ID: <6cd3114c.358ac531@aol.com>
Date: Fri, 19 Jun 1998 16:08:15 EDT
From: Maryilee@aol.com
Subject: "And Then There Were Two" Part 10

Chapter 10


Gary glanced impatiently at his watch.  It was nine o'clock. Why wasn't
the damn library open yet?  He cupped his hands on the doors, peeking
in.  *There!*  A librarian leisurely sorting books.  *Come on, lady!
Yeah, yeah, that's it.  Get the keys out.  Yes, finally!*

Gary had his hand on the door handle before the librarian even had a
chance to withdraw the key.

Gary hurried to the computers, typing in the name 'Samuel Beckett".

His fingers drummed on the table while waiting for the computer to
compile its list.  When it was complete, he printed it, and carried it
to the information desk.

The woman behind the desk, glanced up, appearing faintly annoyed.
Glasses hung precariously on the end of her nose.  All she needed was
her blond hair in a bun to complete the stereotypical picture of a
librarian.

"Uh, excuse me. Ma'am?  Hi, yeah, I was just wondering if you could
help me find some of these books and periodicals."  Gary gave her his
sweetest smile.

Evidently, it did the trick, as the woman's face softened, and she took
the list from Gary.

"Well, most of these periodicals are several years old.  I'll have to
get them from the storeroom.  The books are over there in the science
section."  She pointed across the room.

"Thank you very much.  I'll just go over there and search." Gary nodded
towards the book stacks.


Two hours later, he emerged from the library, rubbing his eyes.  At
least he had some information now.  Information he could use to trip up
Chuck and call his bluff.


*************************************


"Morning, Marissa."

"Good morning, Chuck."  Marissa smiled, then her face clouded over.
"What happened yesterday?"

Sam recounted the events.  He briefly described the fight, and assured
her that Gary and he were okay.  He glanced at the coffeepot, and
grimaced.  He had had too much coffee the last couple of days.

He started opening cabinets, missing Marissa's puzzled expression, and
called over his shoulder, "Do you know if there is any tea here
someplace?"

He turned when he heard a little choking sound, and found Marissa
sputtering.  He hurried over and patted her on the back, "Are you
okay?"

"Tea?" she squeaked out.  "Since when do you drink tea?"  She coughed
again, and seemed to get her breath back.  "For that matter, since when
did you learn how to fight?"

"Uh-well, I guess I've always liked tea," Sam replied feebly.  He
shrugged, "I really didn't do much fighting.  I think the kids just got
scared and ran away because I evened the odds a little bit, is all."

Marissa was silent; apparently willing to let Sam's weak explanations
pass-- for the moment.  Sam was thankful she couldn't see the nervous
sweat that had broken out on his forehead.  He swiped it away with the
back of his hand, and turned back to searching for some tea.  He spied
a box of Earl Grey, and busied himself for the next few moments putting
the teakettle on.

"Chuck?"

"Yeah?"  Sam turned, stopping at Marissa's troubled look.

"I'm worried about Gary."

Sam swallowed, if only she knew. "What about?"

"He's been working too hard.  He's exhausted, and taking chances he
wouldn't ordinarily take.  The paper just asks too much sometimes."

"Yeah, it does." Sam poured the steaming water over the tea bag.
Apparently, Marissa was in on the paper.  "Maybe I should take over for
a day." Sam shrugged, "You know, give Gary a break."

Marissa laughed, almost choking again.

"What?" Sam asked, confused.  It sounded like good idea to him.  Share
the responsibility, and all.

Marissa stopped laughing, and cocked her head to the side; "You're
serious, aren't you?"

"Of course, I'm serious."

"Chuck, you know Gary would never let you anywhere near the paper."

"Why?"

"Chuck?  Are you feeling okay?  Did you hit your head yesterday too?"

Sam shook his head.  "No, I didn't hit my head." He said sardonically.

"Sorry, but you know exactly what you would do with the paper.  Even if
your intentions were good, you know you wouldn't be able to help
yourself."

"Help myself do what?"

"You are Chuck, right?" Marissa joked; sounding slightly confused.

Sam answered quickly, perhaps too quickly, "Yeah, of course I'm Chuck."

"Okay, then you know that you would take that paper, and use it to get
rich."

"I would?"  Sam asked.  He cleared his throat, "I mean, I would--
normally, but seeing as how Gary is so tired and all, I think I could
manage to control my impulses for one day."

Marissa snorted.  "Yeah, right."

Sam took a sip of tea, and decided to change the subject. "Speaking of
Gary, do you know where he is?"

"I'm right here." Gary answered for Marissa, pushing through the doors
from the bar area.

"How are you feeling, Gary?"  Marissa asked in concern.

"Fine, a little sore, but okay." Gary slanted a glance at Sam.

"Did Chuck tell you about the butt-kicking he gave that kid? Almost
couldn't believe it was *really* Chuck."

"Well, he mentioned it," Marissa answered, "but he said that the kid
ran away when he arrived because the odds were even.  Right Chuck?"

Sam sank a little in his chair. Now he was going to have to endure
teasing, and pitying looks for the rest of the leap. "Yeah, that's
pretty much the way it happened."

Gary pulled a stool up to the counter.  He produced a small notebook
from his pocket, and flipped it open.

"Okay, Mr.Beckett, I've got a few questions for you." Gary challenged.

"Doctor." Sam replied, automatically, craning his neck to see what was
in the notebook.

Gary's eyebrow arched in surprise. He pulled the notebook back, not
allowing Sam to see what was written.

Marissa was silent; appearing totally baffled.

"Well, *Dr.* Beckett, can you explain the string theory to me?"

Sam cleared his throat, and sat up straight.  Maybe Gary was starting
to believe him.  At least, it was obvious that he had done a little
research.  He glanced at Marissa. Maybe he should pretend to not know
what Gary was talking about.  He hesitated.

After all, the less people who knew who he really was, the less chance
of cosmic disaster.  Sam looked to Gary, who was waiting expectantly
for Sam to answer.  This might be his only chance to convince Gary, and
thereby save him from being murdered later tonight.  Sam decided he
would have to take the chance that Marissa could be trusted, besides,
he thought, Gary trusted her with the truth about the paper.

"Well, as you know, all matter is made up of small particles called
atoms. And of course in the center of each atom is a nucleus consisting
of protons and neutrons." Sam made a ball with his hands,
demonstrating.  "We think that there are even smaller particles, called
neutrinos, and well, my theory is that the smallest particle, that
makes up everything, is a string." Sam was sitting forward, he
pretended to hold a string in his hand; "Your life is made up of a
series of strings, which together, make a longer string."

Sam had grabbed a paper and pencil off a counter, and eagerly started
drawing a picture of his theory. He was so intent on what he was
explaining; he missed the emotions flitting across Gary's face; fear,
astonishment, and finally, a dawning amazement.

"--and I theorized that if you could somehow ball this string up,
pieces of the string would touch. Where it touched, the time
intersected and a person could leap from time to time on that string."

Sam looked up from his drawing, "Of course, it wasn't quite that
simple, and it took years to develop the accelerator, but that's the
general..."

Sam's voice trailed off, as he realized his audience was no longer
listening.  Marissa had a totally stunned look on her face. Sam watched
as Gary leaned against the wall, noticing the slight trembling of
Gary's fingers as he raked them through his hair.

"Are you okay, Gary?"

Gary turned, his shoulders sagging, "Yeah, Sam, I'm fine."