By Joshua Vise – July 10, 2024

Published in A Stitch in Spacetime by CultureCult Press.

In the world of physics, few places have been as underappreciated and overlooked as Grandhaven University.  Though smaller and less famous than the more prestigious institutions in Massachusetts, scientists at Grandhaven had nevertheless been able to push the boundaries of experimental and theoretical research.  The department’s success came in large part through recognizing its strengths, and while other research institutions around the world focused on developing ever bigger, more powerful particle accelerators such as the Large Hadron Collider in Switzerland and the Stanford Linear Accelerator in Menlo Park, California, Grandhaven chose instead to work towards developing smaller particle accelerator technologies.  It was just such an environment that had attracted Myles Campbell, Grandhaven’s resident professor of theoretical physics.  Compared to other universities, Dr. Campbell found that the atmosphere at Grandhaven fostered close-knit relationships between departments and with management, meaning that proposals had a higher chance of being accepted, and funding secured.

However, these same close-knit relationships that formed the foundation of the department came under intense scrutiny when an explosion at the experimental physics laboratory resulted in the deaths of Dr. Shae Woodward and the three undergraduate students assisting her at the time of the accident.  What exactly had happened?  Was the accident avoidable?  Did familiarity between colleagues or departments breed sloppy methods that caused the disaster?  The only person who could possibly answer such questions, Dr. Henry Heinz, had been missing for more than two weeks.  As Grandhaven’s lead experimentalist in charge of the lab, he was present during the explosion, and was taken to the hospital for treatment.  Despite being injured, he had fled before being questioned by Grandhaven administration or the police.  Could he have had something to do with this accident?

These questions weighed heavily on Dr. Campbell’s mind as he sat at his computer.  Drs. Woodward and Heinz had both been close friends of his, and the week he took off after Dr. Woodward’s funeral had resulted in a backlog of emails and other official notices, correspondence from students and administration that he would have to get to eventually.  Now, sixteen days after the disaster, he knew he needed to put his feelings aside and get back to work.  He rested heavily in his chair, hoping that by staring at the screen long enough, he would muster the energy to start typing.  The loud knock at his office door provided a welcome, if somewhat startling distraction.

“Myles!” said a familiar voice.

Dr. Campbell, in the process of standing, nearly fell back into his chair.

“Dr. Heinz!” said Dr. Campbell, the surprise evident in his voice as Dr. Heinz hastily entered the room, turning back to lock the door behind him.  “What happened?  What are you doing here?”

Ignoring the question, Dr. Heinz hurriedly crossed the room and jerked the curtains closed, his agitation evident in every movement.

“Myles, are we alone?” he asked, that same agitation reflected in the tenor of his voice.

“Well, yes but…”

“Myles, listen!”

Dr. Heinz rounded the desk and knelt next to Dr. Campbell’s chair.  

“Henry, what happened?” asked Dr. Campbell.  “People are looking for you.  The police issued a summons, and…”

“No time.  I need your help.  Tell me, have you been to the lab?”

Taken aback, Dr. Campbell could only repeat the question.  “The lab?”

“Yes, the lab!  Have you seen it?”

Dr. Heinz’s fingers gripped the armrest tightly.

“No, I haven’t.  Not since the accident.”

“What have you heard about it?” he asked, his countenance equal parts anxiety and determination.

“That it’s a disaster,” answered Dr. Campbell.  “Henry, what is going on?”

“No matter,” said Dr. Heinz, again brushing aside any concerns other than his own.  “It doesn’t matter.  Look, Myles…”

He stood, and Dr. Campbell finally had a moment to take in his appearance.  His clothing was torn, and the gauze wrapped around his arms was stained yellow from the blood plasma that had seeped through them.

“I need you to get Shae and meet me in the laboratory.”  

Dr. Heinz’s words seemed to spill from him at the speed of thought. 

“Have her grab the portable disk drive from my desk.  She’ll know the one.”

“Dr. Heinz…”  

“We’ll meet in the lab and see if anything can be salvaged,” said Dr. Heinz, heading towards the door.

“Henry, Shae’s dead.”

The words stopped Dr. Heinz in his tracks.  He turned, eyes wide in an expression that seemed to be borne more of fear than of sadness.

“Dead?” 

“In the explosion,” Dr. Campbell said.

“And the others?”

Dr. Heinz’s knees threatened to buckle, and he sat heavily at the end of the overstuffed sofa against the wall.

“I’m sorry,” said Dr. Campbell, his voice deep with compassion.  “You were the only survivor.”

Dr. Heinz leaned forward, his palms against his forehead, fingers running through greasy strands of hair.

“Oh god,” he whispered softly to himself, his voice just loud enough for Dr. Campbell to hear.  “Oh god, it’s all over.  All over.”

The moment lingered, until Dr. Campbell’s sympathy gave way to concern.

“Henry, what happened?”

Dr. Heinz, still whispering to himself, ignored the question.

“It’s all over.  All over.”

“I’m your friend, Henry,” emphasized Dr. Campbell.  “Let’s get you to a hospital.”

“No,” he returned flatly.  “No hospital.”

“You need to let me help you, Henry.”

Dr. Heinz stood.  His look of anxious determination returned as he glanced at the clock, and he made his way to the door, still stubbornly ignoring Dr. Campbell’s entreaties.

“Myles…,” he said as he gripped the doorknob, his back to Dr. Campbell.

“Yes?”

“Can you get to my office?  The keycode is 4322.”

“Yes, but…”

“In my desk is a portable disk drive.  Blue.  I need you to get it.  Hold onto it for me.  Just for a while.” 

He looked over his shoulder at Campbell as he opened the door.  

“Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, I can,” answered Dr. Campbell.  “But why do you need me to do it?”

“Because I don’t have time,” he answered as he stepped into the hall.  “Just do it.”

The door closed softly behind him.  

The interaction was over as quickly as it had begun, much to Dr. Campbell’s vexation.  Frustrated by the lack of answers and alarmed by Dr. Heinz’s appearance, Dr. Campbell hopped to his feet.  He hoped to catch his friend in the hall and convince him to see a doctor, but when he opened the door, the long corridor fronting the faculty offices was empty.

*****

Two more weeks passed.  The events of the past month, from the explosion and its aftermath to the reappearance of Dr. Heinz, had done much to perturb Dr. Campbell.  Days were spent in administrative meetings investigating the cause of the explosion, while simultaneously figuring out how to rebuild and continue the physics program in future semesters.  It was difficult, tedious work, but Dr. Campbell welcomed it, as quieter moments were often punctuated by thoughts of his meeting with Dr. Heinz.  Campbell’s concern for his friend’s well-being weighed heavily on him, as did his decision not to tell anyone about their meeting.  And though he fulfilled Dr. Heinz’s request to retrieve his disk drive, he secretly hoped that his friend would be found by someone better equipped to take care of him before he came to claim it.  

Returning from yet another departmental meeting, Dr. Campbell discovered Dr. Heinz in his office.  Having knocked, and finding Dr. Campbell absent, Dr. Heinz had let himself in and located his disk drive.  He sat at Dr. Campbell’s computer, his face flickering with the monitor’s reflected light as he scrolled through the drive’s contents.

“Henry!”

Dr. Campbell hastily turned to lock the door behind him, fumbling with his briefcase as he did so.  “What in the world are you doing here?”

Dr. Heinz merely grunted an acknowledgement of his presence as his eyes continued to scan the documents on the screen.

His secret hope having been dashed, Dr. Campbell’s surprise dissolved, and the concern that replaced it was tinged with a hint of annoyance that he didn’t bother to suppress.

“I see you’ve found your drive.”

“Yes,” came a muted response from behind the monitor.

“Everyone’s looking for you,” Campbell continued.  “The police have issued a warrant.”

“Yes.”

Dr. Campbell set his things down on the sofa and rounded his desk.  Henry appeared much as he did in their last meeting; his arms still wrapped in dirty gauze, and his clothes torn.  He placed his hand on Dr. Heinz’s shoulder, but it did little to secure his attention.

“Henry, you really need help,” said Dr. Campbell in his most fatherly tone, despite the fact that they were nearly the same age.

“Yes!” answered Dr. Heinz, the exclamation spilling from his mouth as his fingers tapped the keys.  The printer in the corner whirred to life, and Dr. Heinz snatched the page as fast as the machine spit it out.  He turned to Dr. Campbell, the document clutched tightly in his hands, his eyes wide with excitement.

“Myles, I need to get to the lab.”

“You need help!”

“Then I’ll go myself,” Heinz answered stubbornly.

“Out of the question!” Dr. Campbell’s irritation gave way to anger.  “The lab’s been locked since the accident.  It’s basically a crime scene.  Keycard access has been revoked, even for me.”

“Listen,” uttered Heinz, as he took hold of Dr. Campbell’s shoulders.  “I need to see it.  Need!”

He stared into Dr. Campbell’s eyes with the same intensity that he had studied the monitor moments ago.

“And I need you to help me.”

The tone of Dr. Heinz’s voice, the physicality of his grip, and the expression on his face were so out-of-character, so different from the man Dr. Campbell had known that he could only stand in silence.  For both men, it was a moment pregnant with uncertainty.

“Myles, will you help me?”

“Alright.”

Dr. Heinz smiled, and he released his grip.

“But let’s change your clothes,” Dr. Campbell added.  “I have a shirt and coat you can wear.”

*****

The experimental physics laboratory occupied its own building in the far corner of the campus.  Though it was a short walk from the faculty office to the lab, Dr. Campbell’s anxiety rode high, and he and Dr. Heinz kept their heads down as they marched.  They made their way as quickly as possible without drawing attention.  Dr. Heinz bypassed the main entrance and approached the monolithic structure from a loading dock on the opposite side.  He tugged at the door, which rattled but refused to open.

“As I said,” Dr. Campbell concluded.  “Closed since the accident.”

Unfazed, Dr. Heinz stepped back and studied the building.

“When the accident happened, did emergency services come?”

“Yes.”

“Just the ambulance, or…?”

“Paramedics, police, firefighters, you name it,” answered Dr. Campbell.  “They had to smash the.…”

Dr. Campbell caught himself, but it was too late, and Dr. Heinz took off around the corner of the building at a fast trot.  In no time at all, he located the thin plywood crudely fastened over the missing windows, wood that gave way easily at the first tug.  Heinz tossed the panel to the side and disappeared into the darkness.  Dr. Campbell found himself following, justifying his deep apprehension by saying that he was the only one who could protect his friend at that moment.  As he stepped through the windowsill and into a darkened classroom, he vowed to alert the police after Dr. Heinz had finished whatever ghoulish task he was pursuing.

By the time Dr. Campbell had fully climbed through the window, Dr. Heinz had already darted out of the classroom, and the soles of his dress shoes tapped loudly against the hallway tile as he headed towards the main research facilities.  Campbell entered the hall in time to see Heinz rip the security tape from the double doors of the lab, and push his way in.  He dutifully followed, only to find Heinz frozen in the middle of an empty room.

“It’s gone,” Dr. Heinz said, more to himself than to Dr. Campbell.

Dr. Campbell stood in the doorway, his hands in the pockets of his coat.  Dr. Heinz scrambled to an emergency flashlight mounted into the wall and pulled it violently from its charging station.  The beam flitted around the room, sweeping the corners and running between the few remaining tables.

“What are you looking for?” asked Dr. Campbell.  

“The machines…the instruments…”

The light rested on a dark spot on the floor.  It was the rust-colored remnants of a blood stain.  Dr. Campbell shifted uncomfortably and looked at his feet.

“It can’t be gone,” said Dr. Heinz resolutely.  

“It is, Henry,” answered Dr. Campbell, still studying his shoes.  

“No.”

“Four people died, Henry,” continued Dr. Campbell.  “Nearly everything was unsalvageable.  It’s all been scrapped.”

The light spun around the room, catching Dr. Campbell in the eyes as he looked up.

“Where did they take it?  The scrap?”

“Henry…” Campbell began as he attempted to shield his face from the blinding beam.

“The scrap!” Dr. Heinz spat.  “Where is it?!”

Dr. Campbell studied the dim silhouette behind the flashlight.  If Dr. Heinz had been swayed even for an instant by the grisly reminder of Woodward’s death, he didn’t show it.  His single-minded madness seemed to insulate him from any concerns other than the secretive ones he harbored in his head, concerns that he still had yet to share.

“Across the hall,” Dr. Campbell found himself muttering.  “Lecture Room 226.”

Dr. Heinz pushed past Campbell and raced frantically to the other end of the wing, disappearing around a corner.  

Lecture Room 226 had been repurposed as a storage facility after the accident, and tables and chairs had been moved from the center of the classroom and stacked in the corners nearly to the ceiling.  In their place was a loose collection of scientific equipment that had once occupied the lab.  Oscilloscopes, voltmeters, spectrometers, and other scattered devices rested heavily on the floor.  Some sat disemboweled, their beige paneling ripped open, masses of wires and printed circuit boards tumbling from their sides.

As a theoretical physicist, Dr. Campbell’s expertise was in front of a chalkboard rather than at the controls of some specialized apparatus.  He rarely visited the experimental physics lab, and the assemblage of machinery in the center of the room looked as foreign to him as it would have to any other layman.  Not so for Dr. Heinz.  He made his way through the clutter, his flashlight moving back and forth from the paper in his hand to the machinery at his feet.

“This one!” he exclaimed loudly.  

Dr. Heinz reached down and lifted one of the beige cases, which resembled a desktop computer save for a half dozen black knobs set into a panel in its front. Then he panned his flashlight low across the wall.

“Help me find an outlet,” he said excitedly as he removed himself from the pile, his prize slung over his shoulder.

“The power’s off,” said Dr. Campbell.

“Then we need to get this back to your office,” Dr. Heinz said hastily.

“Dr. Heinz, this has gone far enough!”

“Shh!” hissed Dr. Heinz.  “Someone’s coming.”

The sound of several sets of footsteps echoed through the corridor.  Dr. Heinz’s eyes grew wide with fear.  He crossed to the door and closed it, then threw the dead bolt.

“Myles!” he hissed from across the room as he attempted to conceal his machine behind a set of stacked desks.  “This is the key!  It’s the only thing I can’t replace.  You need to take this to your office.  Or better yet, your home.  Somewhere safe.”

The doorknob rattled, quickly followed by muffled pounding.

“Campus security!  Open the door!”

Dr. Heinz waved his printed sheet of paper only inches from Dr. Campbell’s face.

“This list,” he spoke with hasty determination.  “You need to get these things!”

“But…” protested Dr. Campbell.

“No!  There’s no time,” interrupted Dr. Heinz.

“Campus security!  The police have been summoned!”

“Get it!  I’d do it myself, but I can’t.  You need to find a way!”  

He shoved the paper roughly into Campbell’s pocket.

“You’re the only one who can help!”

The sound of keys rattled in the deadbolt, and it snapped open.

Dr. Heinz spun on his heels just as the three campus security guards entered the room.

“Stay where you are!”

To Dr. Campbell’s surprise, Heinz immediately raised his hands in surrender.  

*****

Seven months had passed since Dr. Campbell’s last meeting with Dr. Heinz, and yet it felt as if the normalcy he enjoyed before the disaster still eluded him.  Rather, the sense of confusion and concern he felt towards the entire situation seemed heightened, and he feared things would stay that way absent some sort of resolution.  Dr. Campbell had always known Dr. Heinz as a level-headed individual, and while Heinz’s passion for his work would be evident to anyone who spent even a moment with him, he was not inclined to excitement, haste, or confrontation, three behaviors that seemed to dominate Dr. Campbell’s most recent interactions with him.  He attributed this drastic shift in personality to the effects of the explosion.  He is mentally ill, Campbell thought, or perhaps even has a brain injury.

Despite his worries about his friend, Dr. Campbell did feel duty bound to assist Dr. Heinz, if only to help guide him to safety during this bout of emotional instability.  He had been able to find pretense to reenter the lab and secure the machinery Dr. Heinz requested.  Fortunately, the strange box that had befuddled him had a similar effect on anyone else who saw it, and he was able to acquire it with the simple explanation that it was necessary for his own work.  It now sat safely in his cellar, though he was at a loss as to its purpose.  The list that Dr. Heinz had crammed into his pocket did little to enlighten him as to Henry’s scheme.  Many of the terms were unfamiliar, but a simple internet search revealed that most were peripheral instruments that would be commonly found in any physics lab, and could be purchased readily, if not cheaply.  Still, in spite of his loyalty to his friend, Dr. Campbell felt duty-bound to question Dr. Heinz should he appear again.  Going forward, he thought, he wouldn’t accept anything less than the complete truth before deciding whether or not to continue to aid him, especially since any further help could come at the cost of his career.

After being caught by campus security, Dr. Campbell had been subject to a formal disciplinary committee, and was compelled to explain both the reasons for his presence in a restricted area and his relationship with a person of interest in a potential crime.  He answered as clearly and comprehensively as he could, but the lack of definite answers to many of the panel’s most important questions provided him with little in the way of justification or defense.  In the end, the committee decided against any formal censure, citing his previously sterling reputation and willingness to cooperate as their primary reasons.  He was, however, strongly advised to stay away from the experimental labs unless accompanied.  Moreover, he was to cooperate with the authorities in any matter regarding the whereabouts of Dr. Heinz, who, after surrendering to the police on the night of their break-in, had somehow managed to escape custody once again.  There had been no sign of him on campus or in the wider community for the past seven months.

Then one evening, he was there, knocking at Dr. Campbell’s front door.  

As Dr. Campbell peered through the peephole, he steeled himself for the inevitable confrontation that he would be forced to take part in.

He opened the door.

“Come in, Henry,” said Dr. Campbell.

Henry nodded as he stepped through the threshold.  His appearance hadn’t changed since their laboratory break-in.  Dr. Heinz still wore the shirt and coat he had borrowed, and he somehow seemed neither to have changed nor bathed since that time, nor had his bandages, still stained yellow, been replaced with fresh gauze.  In fact, the only difference was that Dr. Heinz carried a synthetic sports backpack, something more befitting a student than a professor.

“Thank god you’re home,” Dr. Heinz exhaled.  

The foyer light cast deep shadows into the lines of Dr. Heinz’s face, and it took only an instant for Campbell to see that his friend’s former excitability had been restrained by exhaustion.

“Please sit down.  I’ll get some tea.”

Dr. Campbell gestured to the living room sofa before retreating to the kitchen.  He returned with the tray, only to find Dr. Heinz fast asleep.

*****

It was nearly midnight when Dr. Heinz awoke with a start.  He sat up in a panic, his head spinning as he recovered his senses.  Dr. Campbell sat in a chair across from the sofa, a phone tucked inconspicuously between his leg and the armrest.  The tray of tea and biscuits, still untouched, rested on a coffee table between them.

“Myles…” Heinz said, rubbing his eyes with the flat of his palms.  “How long was I out?”

“Nearly three hours,” answered Dr. Campbell.

Dr. Heinz groaned as he stretched.

“You shouldn’t have let me do that.”

“We need to talk,” began Dr. Campbell flatly.  He wanted to keep things as dispassionate as possible.

“Did you call anyone?” Henry asked.

“No,” he answered.  “Not yet.  But I will unless…”

“You CAN’T call anyone,” Henry interjected.

“Then you need to tell me what’s really happening.”

“You’re the only one who can help me, Myles.”

“And I will help you,” Dr. Campbell affirmed.  “But not blindly.”

Silence followed these words, as both men studied each other.

“Did you get the machine from the lab?” asked Dr. Heinz.

“Yes.”

“Does it work?”

“I don’t know how it works,” offered Dr. Campbell.  “It turns on, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“And the list?” Dr. Heinz continued to probe.  “Were you able to get anything?”

“No.”

Dr. Heinz clenched his jaw, a sigh hissing through his teeth.

“And I won’t,” said Dr. Campbell resolutely.  “Not until you tell me everything.”

Another momentary silence followed Dr. Campbell’s demand.  Heinz’s shoulders slumped, and the lines of tension on his forehead and jawline eased somewhat.  

“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” began Dr. Heinz.

“We can get help,” urged Dr. Campbell.

“No…I mean…”

He rubbed his palms nervously in his lap.

“I mean I don’t know what is physically happening to me.”

Dr. Heinz looked up to see how this statement was received.  Dr. Campbell nodded for him to continue.

“Do you know what Dr. Woodward was working on?  Her project?”

“I saw the proposal, briefly, during one of our more recent meetings,” offered Dr. Campbell.  “Something about discrete time…”

Dr. Heinz nodded.

“She was attempting to solve the question of whether time is made up of individual units that can’t be broken up any further.  The same way quarks are the smallest bits of matter, except for time.”

He cleared his throat roughly.  Campbell gestured to the tea, but Heinz waved it off and continued.

“She devised an experiment that hypothesized that if spacetime is actually discrete, that is, able to be broken into uniform chunks, an object that accelerates past a certain rate will be observed to ‘teleport’, because it will not have the ‘time’ to occupy all of the spaces between point A and point B.

“This was a wonderful hypothesis for our facility.  We’d never be able to achieve the kinds of sustained maximum speeds the larger particle accelerators are capable of.  With this hypothesis, we didn’t have to.  Instead, we just had to be able to hit a particular rate of acceleration, regardless of the final speed or how long we sustained it.”  

“This was the test you were performing?” asked Dr. Campbell.

Dr. Heinz nodded.

“Moreover, the test was simple.  Fire a proton beam at a thick block of acrylic.  If the hypothesis is correct, it would leave a pattern, sort of like Morse code, rather than simply boring a hole through the entire block.”

“So that’s what caused the explosion?” asked Dr. Campbell.

“No, at least, not initially.  You see…”

Dr. Heinz shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

“When the particle beam hit the acrylic, it had already passed the magnetic coils that applied the force to the particles.”

“So the particles were no longer accelerating,” Dr. Campbell added knowingly.

“Exactly,” continued Dr. Heinz.  “We needed to try a different approach.”

Dr. Campbell leaned forward, the serious expression on his face not betraying the anticipation he felt.

“So David, the grad student, suggested inserting the acrylic brick between the Helmholtz coils.”

“Between the magnets?” asked Campbell.

“Yes.  That would allow us to catch the beam as its velocity increased.  Plus, acrylic isn’t strongly affected by magnetism.  They wrote out the calculations. It worked.  At least, on paper.  The experiment that caused the explosion was our first attempt using this method.”

“Do you remember the explosion?”

Heinz shook his head.

“I remember Shae throwing the switch.  Then a pop, like an old incandescent light bulb breaking.  Then I woke up on the ground in front of the machine.  The others…”

He rubbed his temples as his gaze seemed to drift off.

“That’s when the paramedics took me to the hospital.”

“But why did you run away,” asked Dr. Campbell.

“That’s just it, Myles!” exclaimed Dr. Heinz.  “I didn’t run away!  I woke up two days later.”

“Where?”

“On campus.  Behind the south parking lot,” Dr. Heinz stated firmly.

“With no recollection of how you got there?”

“None.”

“But someone must have seen…” began Dr. Campbell, before Heinz waved him off.  

“No!”

He stood up from the sofa and gestured emphatically with his hands.

“No!” he repeated.  “It’s not like that!”

Dr. Campbell sat in stunned silence, worried that another question might provoke his friend further.  

“I had no idea how I got there.  I was confused. I just wanted to go home.  So that’s what I did.”

The explanation tumbled from him, as if he was reliving it rather than recounting it.

“But then I was there again…four days later.”

“The parking lot?”

“Yes, and then eight.”

“Eight what?” asked Dr. Campbell.

“Eight days later.  Don’t you see, Myles?!”

He rounded the coffee table and knelt next to Dr. Campbell’s chair, grasping the armrest tightly.  The image of Dr. Heinz in his office flashed in Campbell’s mind.

“See what?”

“That’s when I first suspected.  But on the sixteenth day, when it happened again, I knew.  I had to see you.”

“Henry…”

“I don’t know how it happened, Myles, except I was the only one in front of the machine!  All the others were at its side!  That’s the only reason I can think of!  That must be the reason!”

“The reason you’re alive?”

“The reason I’m skipping through time!  The explosion ripped through space along one axis and ripped through time along another!  I’ve been flung through time!”

Dr. Heinz stood, arms above his head, eyes wide.  He stared down at Dr. Campbell, who could only stare back with his mouth agape.  

“Through time…” Dr. Campbell whispered.

Dr. Heinz’s hands dropped.  His head rolled back as he shifted his gaze to the ceiling, in evident relief.

“Geometrically through time,” he spoke in his regular voice.  “Each gap is two times as long as the last one.”

“That’s impossible!” exclaimed Dr. Campbell.  “How could that be?”

Tears began to well in Dr. Heinz’s eyes as he sat heavily on the sofa.

“I don’t know how it could be.  But it is.”

Dr. Campbell shook his head.

“No.”

Henry scoffed.  He lay back and rested his head against the top of the cushion.

“Think, Myles,” he spoke calmly.  “How many days after the explosion was it when we went to the lab?”

Dr. Campbell thought for a moment.

“More than a month.”

“Thirty-two,” he corrected.  “And how many days has it been from the explosion to today?”

A pause.

“Two hundred fifty-six,” said Dr. Heinz.  “Eight months and twelve days.”

Dr. Campbell was silent as the realization sunk in.  That’s how he escaped from jail.  That’s why nobody could find him.  That’s why his wounds hadn’t healed.

“But you should have appeared two times between now and the lab,” Dr. Campbell thought aloud.

“I did,” said Dr. Heinz.

He leaned over and grabbed the backpack, then handed it to Dr. Campbell.  It was streaked with dirt.

“Open it,” Heinz said.

Dr. Campbell unzipped it, reached inside, and pulled out a clear plastic bag.  Inside were several notebooks, as well as a disk drive similar to the one Heinz had asked him to retrieve.

“Shae’s things,” explained Dr. Heinz.  “It took me two of my days to get them.”

“Your days?”

“Every time I reappear, I’m here for a day, as far as I can tell.”

Dr. Campbell opened one of the notebooks.  The pages were covered with Dr. Woodward’s familiar scrawl.

“But when will you…”

There was a loud pop.

“…disappear again?”

Dr. Campbell spoke the words to the empty sofa in front of him.

*****

2048 days.  Five years, seven months, and seven days since the explosion.  And only Dr. Campbell’s third meeting with Dr. Heinz since that moment on the sofa.  For Campbell, the intervals in between Dr. Heinz’s appearances were spent acting on his behalf.  He’d secretly converted his basement into a quite advanced lab and equipped it with everything on the printed list Heinz had shoved into his pocket so long ago.  He bought things himself whenever he was able and used his professional connections at Grandhaven to secure the more difficult items.  He studied technical journals, audited material science classes at the university, and generally shifted his work’s focus from theoretical to experimental.  

Dr. Campbell had studied Woodward’s notes closely, including the original proposal, and attempted to replicate the experiment several times on his own.  The box that he had retrieved from the lab at Dr. Heinz’s behest was the timing mechanism for the magnetic coils, a custom bit of engineering that, even if it were able to be reproduced, would be impossible to duplicate exactly.  It was the one constant from which Dr. Campbell tested multiple variations of Woodward’s original experiment.  Though he avoided repeating the same disaster that had claimed her life, he was unable to achieve anything that he thought could be helpful or useful to Heinz.  In truth, Dr. Campbell wasn’t even sure what success along those lines would look like.

This lack of success extended to his work directly with Dr. Heinz.  Try as he might, Dr. Campbell’s previous two meetings with him had been unfruitful.  The first, 512 days after the accident, was little more than a shot in the dark.  Dr. Heinz had stood in roughly the same position in relation to the machine as he was during the original accident.  For safety, Campbell had designed his particular setup to operate remotely, and he controlled the particle beam from a shed in his backyard.  The hope was that the physical processes behind Dr. Heinz’s predicament functioned like an on-off switch, and by experiencing a similar pulse of energy in a similar manner, they could ‘turn off’ whatever had been turned on.  This resulted in nothing more than a few fried blocks of acrylic, and Heinz had blinked out of existence at the end of the day.

Campbell’s background in theoretical work allowed him to develop mathematical proofs that could account for phenomena such as time-dilation or time travel.  However, without exact knowledge of which proof could account for Heinz’s experience, Dr. Campbell’s experimental work had remained speculative, often little more than trial-and-error.  His second meeting with Dr. Heinz, two years, nine months, and eighteen days later, faced difficulties stemming from this directionless methodology.  Adjustments in the frequency of the beam and an increase in overall power resulted in a more energetic discharge.  It was an advancement in engineering and a testament to Dr. Campbell’s growing abilities in the experimental field, but ultimately ineffectual.

For this third attempt, Campbell was prepared to go in a different direction.  He waited at the south parking lot on the morning of the 2048th day for Dr. Heinz to materialize, then collected him and proceeded immediately to the basement.  Dr. Heinz didn’t mince words.

“Any progress?” he probed as Dr. Campbell circled around the contraption in his basement.

“Depends on what you mean by progress,” said Dr. Campbell.  

“Any chance I’ll fucking stop disappearing?” retorted Dr. Heinz.

“Sorry,” said Dr. Campbell sheepishly, though his focus remained on the machine.  “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Dr. Heinz sighed.  Years of research had insulated Dr. Campbell from the emotional reality that Heinz faced.  With no time to do any real research of his own into his condition, he found himself at the mercy of whatever Dr. Campbell could devise.  His anger at his own helplessness and dependence bubbled to the surface more overtly, even in the face of Campbell’s well-intentioned effort to keep him informed.  Conversely, Heinz’s appearances represented the only true test of the methods and hypotheses that Campbell had spent years developing at the cost of nearly every other aspect of his career.  Both men understood these truths implicitly, so the subject was never broached, and each meeting became more fraught than the previous one.

“Any developments,” Dr. Heinz restated, this time more mindful of his tone.

“Yes…a few,” said Dr. Campbell.  

“Such as?”

“Well, they’re technical,” answered Dr. Campbell, quickly catching himself.  “Mostly to do with phase fluctuations.  It would take a long time to explain.”

“Try me,” countered Heinz.  “And give me the short version.”

He could feel his attempt at civility beginning to wear thin.

Dr. Campbell pulled himself away from the machine.

“I’m sorry, Henry.  I really am,” he said, gesturing to two folding chairs propped against the far wall.  “Let’s take a moment, and I’ll fill you in.  We’ve time enough for that.”

He crossed the room and grabbed the chairs, one in each hand.  Dr. Campbell handed one to his friend, and they unfolded them, seating themselves to the side of the hulking contraption in the middle of the room.  This simple gesture, a moment of feelings acknowledged, was enough to relieve the emotional turbulence that had built.

“Basically, I’ve spent the past two years focusing on two different aspects of this issue.  The first is the purely theoretical, focusing on the nature of time.  I’ve been able to demonstrate that there are time-related calculations that can return a negative value.”

“Meaning…travel backwards in time?” asked Dr. Heinz.

“Possibly, but there is still a question of whether such an equation could be practically implemented.  Even then, would it only arrest your fall through time, or could it send you rocketing backwards through time?”

Dr. Heinz nodded.  Even as catastrophic as his current predicament was, it would not be nearly as bad as if he were cascading into the past.  In that situation, he would rapidly reach a pre-technological time from which he would have no hope of returning.

“And what else have you been focusing on?”

“I’ve been experimenting with the proton beam itself…different frequencies and amplitudes mostly.”

“To what effect?”

“Not much, but there was one potential breakthrough with capacitance and refraction.”

“Capacitance and refraction?” 

“Yes,” continued Dr. Campbell.  “My theory is that the acrylic block, in the position it was placed during your original experiment, was hit with enough energy quickly enough that it was able to hold on to an immense charge, albeit very briefly, before discharging.”

“Ah, like a capacitor,” observed Dr. Heinz.

“Exactly!  And the acrylic block could have acted as a prism if it were offset even by a miniscule amount.  This offset may have resulted in a discharge along different axes.”

“So how can we utilize this,” asked Dr. Heinz hopefully.

“Today, we are going to pass an immense charge simulating the discharge of a large capacitor through an acrylic prism, with you standing at the most likely point to receive the burst of negative energy after the magnetic field.”

“Is it dangerous?  Have you tried this before?” 

“I’ve run the experiment three times, using a mannequin as a proxy.”

“And…?”

“I’m not going to lie.  It will be like getting hit with a taser while going through an MRI machine.”

Dr. Campbell watched as a sheepish smile crossed Dr. Heinz’s face.

“When can we start?”

*****

“I want to time it to coincide exactly with the moment you disappear.  We may be able to restrain you and prevent the transition.” 

Dr. Campbell sat at the operations console in his shed.

“Roger that,” replied Dr. Heinz, his voice tinny over the intercom speaker.

Dr. Campbell studied the closed-circuit TV feed coming from his basement.  Dr. Heinz stood resolutely, his feet planted firmly on the chalk X that Campbell had drawn onto the floor.  On the upper wall behind him was a large timer, its red numbers counting down to zero, second by second.  That time corresponded to 12:38:42 am, the time when Heinz had disappeared in each of their previous meetings.

“120 seconds,” said Dr. Campbell.

There was a moment of silence.  Dr. Heinz shook his limbs like a baseball player preparing to steal a base.

“Thank you, Myles,” said Dr. Heinz.  “For everything.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” said Dr. Campbell.  “You know if this doesn’t work, we’ve only got three more attempts.”

“Three if we’re lucky,” added Heinz.

“Right.  Let’s make this one count.”

Heinz gave the camera a thumbs up.

“10 seconds,” Dr. Campbell began counting backwards.  “Nine…eight…seven…”

Heinz stood stiffly, his fists balled in anticipation.

“…three…two…one….Mark!”

Dr. Campbell pressed the firing button.  There was an instantaneous flash, whiting out the entire view on the screen.  It was accompanied by an intense electric hiss.  And a scream.

When the image on the monitor cleared, Dr. Heinz was nowhere to be found.

*****

The next four decades of Dr. Campbell’s life were filled with success.  His pioneering research into the nature of time combined with experimental verification of his theories vaulted him to the highest reaches of academia.  His advances in the field of physics drew worldwide acclaim, and he was awarded both the Fields Medal and the Abel Prize, an unprecedented feat that was accompanied by offers to teach at the world’s most prestigious institutions.  Despite the acclaim, Campbell opted to remain at Grandhaven University, a fact most outsiders attributed to his perceived humility, though this humility didn’t prevent him from using his clout within his home institution.  At his behest, Grandhaven established the Shae Woodward Institute, a laboratory dedicated to furthering research into properties of time and its connection to spacetime, conveniently situated near Grandhaven’s south parking lot.  Still, Dr. Campbell’s greatest aspiration continued to remain a secret.  Not even his closest colleagues thought that his dedication to his craft was motivated by anything greater than the spirit of scientific discovery.  

Dr. Campbell’s work in his basement laboratory carried on, and he continually upgraded the equipment as both his skills and available technology improved.  He was aware that this meeting with Dr. Heinz, 44 years, 10 months, and 8 days after the explosion, was to be their final one, and as he waited at the south parking lot for his friend to reappear, he felt more determined than ever to make it a success.  

“Hello, Dr. Heinz,” said Dr. Campbell softly after his friend materialized.

Dr. Heinz struggled to suppress a gasp.

“Dr. Campbell…”

“It’s alright, Henry,” smiled Dr. Campbell.  “We both knew it would be this way.”

Dr. Heinz looked fixedly at his friend, his eyes drinking in twenty-two years of aging in an instant.  Dr. Campbell looked thin, his rounded shoulders clinging to a shirt that seemed a size too big.  The few stringy tufts of hair left on his head were a sickly yellow-white, and his nose jutted out over sunken cheeks and a frail chin.  Even so, Heinz could see in the old man’s eyes the essence of the younger man that had been his friend.  

“Yes…we both knew,” echoed Dr. Heinz.

Dr. Heinz looked down at his own hands, the only difference in his appearance being that he no longer required the bandages.  Campbell approached and placed his hand softly on Heinz’s shoulder, just as he did all those years ago in his office.

“We’ve got work to do,” said the old man.

*****

Dr. Campbell led Heinz down the stairs and into the basement.

“Watch out for the wires.  They’re a tangled mess in some places,” warned Dr. Campbell.

They reached the bottom of the stairwell.  Campbell extended a bony hand and flipped the light switch.

As Dr. Heinz laid eyes on this new machine, the culmination of a lifetime of effort, it was immediately apparent to him that Dr. Campbell had long since surpassed him in knowledge and abilities.  The device itself bore no resemblance to that hodgepodge of parts they had scratched together during their earlier attempts.  Moreover, twenty years of innovation had resulted in instruments that bore little resemblance to anything Heinz had worked with in the past.  The only clearly recognizable component was the timing box, which was situated securely in the lower recesses of the machine.  

Dr. Heinz could do no more than simply stand there, mouth agape in shocked admiration.  Campbell allowed him this moment, and took a justifiable pride in the fact that someone other than himself could finally enjoy the fruits of his labors.

“How does it work?”

“That’s just it, Henry,” answered Dr. Campbell, his voice taking on a somber note as he turned to face his friend.  “I really don’t know that it will work.”

“What do you mean?  Have you been able to test it?”

“Oh, I’ve tested it,” nodded Campbell.  “It functions.”

“Then what is it?”

Heinz glanced over Campbell’s shoulder and saw the same old folding chairs against the wall.  He brought them out, unfolded them, and helped Dr. Campbell into it.

“It’s just that I’ve been at this for forty-four years.  Forty-four years, Henry.”

“Yes, you have.”

“And in all that time, I’ve never been able to pin down what caused this.  Not experimentally.  Not even theoretically.  And without a cause…”

Myles paused.  He lowered his head, hands in his lap.

“Without a cause, I just don’t know if anything we have can ever stop it.”

As they sat across from each other, both men found themselves overcome with emotion.  For Campbell, the acknowledgement that he likely would never be able to do enough to save his friend had long sat heavily on his chest.  Speaking his fears out loud overwhelmed any decorum, and tears began to trickle down his cheeks.  

“I’m so sorry,” said Campbell as he covered his face with his hands.  “I just didn’t know where to go with it all.  I just don’t know enough.”

“It’s been enough, Myles,” said Henry.  “Whatever happens, it was enough that you tried.”

Heinz, for his part, recognized the incredible imposition he had burdened his friend with.  It was an obligation that, in nearly half a century, Dr. Campbell had continued to fulfill without the hope of a reward.  Regardless of whether or not that night’s attempt was successful, Dr. Heinz knew that he would never be able to repay the debt he owed to his friend, and his own tears welled in the corners of his eyes.

“I owe you so much,” said Heinz.

They embraced, momentarily, and their tears changed into laughter as each patted the other on the back.  They each leaned back in their chairs, their palms wiping at their cheeks.

“I could use a drink,” said Dr. Heinz, relieved that the moment had passed.

“Ah,” said Dr. Campbell, his expression lighting up as he slowly stood.  “I thought you might say that.”

He walked stiffly around the chair, and to the stairs.  He bent, reached into the dark recess under the steps, and retrieved a small cooler.  He returned to his seat and set it on the floor between them.

“Open it,” said Campbell.

Dutifully, Dr. Heinz pulled back the lid, revealing a bottle of red wine with a corkscrew already spun into its top, as well as two glasses.

“I would have done champagne,” said Dr. Campbell.  “But I didn’t want the cork to hit anything.”

Dr. Heinz chuckled as he handed Campbell his glass.

“What should we toast to,” said Heinz as he poured Campbell’s glass first before filling his own.  “Time?  Physics?”

Campbell looked over at his machine.

“How about to mail-order scientific supply stores?”

They both laughed.

“To supply stores!” cheered Heinz.

“And their lack of questions!” added Campbell.

Their laughter grew.  As Heinz raised his glass to his lips, Campbell couldn’t help but think that this was the first time he had seen his friend laugh in forty-four years.

“To friendship,” said Heinz.

“To friendship,” said Campbell, and both men drank.

“Oh, I meant to tell you,” began Dr. Campbell as he lowered his glass.  “I set a few things aside for you, in case you return.”

“Oh really?” Heinz’s eyebrows raised.  “Like what?”

“The Shae Woodward Institute,” said Dr. Campbell.  “The institute building has a copper plaque placed at the main entrance.  There are two large bricks behind it that are hollow.  Inside is a waterproof container with hard copies of all of the relevant research, printed on acid-free paper.  There is also a document with bank account information connected to a perpetual trust established at the institute.  You should be able to access money from that account without anyone noticing, if you need it.”

Heinz could feel the tears beginning to form again.  He blinked them away as he took another drink.

“That’s so generous of you, Myles.”

“Of course, that’s assuming the bank and the building still exist in 180 years!”

Campbell chortled at his own dark humor.

“You mean in two days?” added Heinz with a snicker of his own.  “Hell, I’ll take my chances!  The sun will explode in two weeks, anyway!”

“Then we best get started,” said Dr. Campbell, slowly easing himself up from his chair.

*****

By the time firefighters arrived, there was little they could do.  With the conflagration rapidly consuming the load-bearing structures of the house, and its collapse imminent, their efforts turned instead to containing the blaze.  They directed their hoses to the neighboring residences, and lowered the pressure so that they could wet the siding without shattering the windows.

The midnight explosion that shook the sleepy neighborhood adjoining Grandhaven University claimed only one life, that of the home’s lone resident, the eminent physicist Dr. Myles Campbell.  He had been in a backyard shed at the time of the blast, but had sustained catastrophic injury when he attempted to reenter the building as it burned.  Responding paramedics were able to load him onto an ambulance, but Dr. Campbell died en route to the hospital.  His last words before expiring were reported to have been “I just don’t know.”