Exo: A Novel (Jumper) by Steven Gould Read Free Book Online Page A

e-mail, right?” I’d set up an account just for him and he’d sent me his new office and lab info as soon as he received it from Stanford.
    “Oh, yeah—it’s on my laptop. The trip was okay. Did the drive in three days. But I took your advice and had the movers do the packing. Talk about stress relief.”
    “How’s your lab?”
    “Great! Thanks for having the stuff delivered. Though there was some weird mix-up there. They’ve lost all record of receiving the shipment. No one even knows who unlocked the lab for the movers. They’re really embarrassed about it.”
    Oops . Maybe I should’ve waited to deliver it until after Cory had received the keys.
    “It’s all there, right? Nothing broken, nothing missing?”
    “Seems to be. Flexed the suit. Worked fine.”
    “Flexed? You bent it?”
    “Oh, no. I just charged the EAP fibers and relaxed it.”
    “EAP?”
    “Electroactive polymers. I thought you’d read my papers. That you knew how the suit worked.” He sounded annoyed.
    “Ah. I know it contracts when the power is off. That’s the reason it doesn’t have to be customized, right? We chose you because you were the first to achieve thirty kilopascals over a nonuniform surface without having to customize it for different people.”
    His voice sounded calmer when he said, “That’s right. It’s really quite dramatic. I could show you when you’re in the Bay area.”
    “I’m local now,” I said. “Are you in your office?”
    “No. Unpacking. I scored a temporary faculty apartment in Stanford West. A petroleum-engineering professor is off doing an extended sabbatical in Abu Dhabi, research and teaching. Perfect timing. But I could bicycle to the lab in ten minutes.”
    “Is that convenient?”
    “Well, if you give me half an hour.”
    “Yeah, could do that.”
    “Do you need directions?”
    I’d been there already but I said, “The Durand Building right? Material sciences. Aeronautics and astronautics?”
    “Yes.”
    “See you there, then.”
    *   *   *
    I jumped directly to Cory’s lab because, other than Joe’s dorm room over in Stern Hall, it was the jump site freshest in my memory for Stanford. The lights were off and the door was closed, but unlike his previous lab, it wasn’t tucked away in the corner of the basement. High northern windows lit the room and the adjoining office, which made both rooms much less claustrophobic than his previous digs, though they were about the same size. He’d already organized things, and the boxes I’d stacked here four days before were gone.
    I let myself out the locked door into the hall and waited, sitting on a bench. I could hear people walking through the halls in other parts of the building but this little stretch was quiet. I could see down the hall and through another window. In the far distance was Hoover Tower and I remembered time spent with Joe on the observation deck when it was open and when it was closed.
    I had to look away to keep from crying.
    Cory came up the hall, still wearing his bicycle helmet. Velcro straps bound his khaki slacks at the ankles. He nodded at me. “You must’ve been close. When you said you’re local, does that mean you live here in Palo Alto?”
    “No, but I’ve been out here a lot.” The absolute truth.
    “Well, if you can afford to fund me, you can afford the travel, I guess.”
    As he unlocked the door I said, “Travel is the smallest budget line item we have.”
    He uncinched the straps from his pants cuffs and put them in his helmet, tucking it into an empty spot on an otherwise full bookshelf. He ran his fingers across the spines of several books as he moved to the connecting door to the lab. “It was weird. Didn’t feel right with these in the boxes.”
    I followed him.
    The stand and suit were at the end of the room, their cables leading to the bench. This time the USB connections rising out of the headless neck were connected to a laptop computer and the heavier cable below the suit’s