Firebird by Jack McDevitt Read Free Book Online

take us home. It was a bright, cold evening, with a few clouds drifting across a moonless sky. “Well,” I said, “that was an interesting experience.”
    “Yes. And a profitable one.”
    “What makes you say that? I can't see any of those people, for all their enthusiasm, buying a book because Robin scribbled a comment in it.”
    “Oh, that's probably true.”
    “Then what—?”
    “Chase, we can get a substantial price for the Robin artifacts.”
    “Really? Why?”
    “The guy is the stuff of myth. Ghosts. Colliding universes. Ships from other realities. Then he disappears.”
    “I'm not sure I'm following you.”
    “We won't get a good price for his stuff if only a few people are interested in him.”
    “I agree.”
    “And, of course, nobody cares about physicists. I mean, nobody understands them. But a mad scientist? Who maybe got carried off to another universe? Or maybe came from one himself?”
    “Alex, I don't think I like where this is going.”
    “It's all P.R., Chase. What we need to do is shape the public perception.”
    “And how do you plan to do that?”

FOUR
    Perception is everything.
    —Terrestrial proverb, third millennium
    Two days after the Chris Robin conference, Alex showed up as a guest on Newscope, hosted by Leah Carmody. I was at home, shoes off, feet propped up, enjoying a nightbinder although I'd put too much lemon in it.
    Leah's other guest was Arlen Adams. Adams could have been an Old Testament prophet. He was big and imposing, and probably a thousand years old, with judgmental eyes and a long white beard. He was also chairman of the physics department at Perennial College. He had never hidden the fact that he disapproved of Alex.
    Leah introduced the topic, which would be Chris Robin, “the physicist who disappeared forty-one years ago.”
    She turned to Alex first, and he started by admitting that his own grasp of physics was virtually nonexistent, and he was consequently not competent to speak about Robin's work. He then proceeded to do so, describing Robin's desire to break into new territory, his attempt to explain why the universe was “biology friendly,” his conviction that there were alternate universes, and his determination to answer the cosmic questions that everyone else had long since given up on.
    I knew that Alex had been reading everything he could find on the subject, and I was familiar with his work ethic, so I wasn't surprised by his performance.
    Adams sat through this, looking placidly at the ceiling like a man wondering why he was there. When Leah turned to him and asked for a comment, he shook his head. “When there's solid evidence for any of this,” he said, “I'll be happy as anyone to look at it. In the meantime, all of this talk about branes and places where the physics is different and all the rest of it is just that: talk. It's idle speculation and nothing more, and I'm sure Mr. Benedict would agree.”
    Leah smiled pleasantly. “I wonder if either of you would mind telling us what an alternate universe might look like?”
    Adams managed a patient smile. “With luck,” he said, “it would be one without deranged antique dealers.”
    Alex returned the smile but let it pass. “I would hope so. But, to answer your question, Leah, an alternate universe is simply a place where the rules are different. For example, if the gravity is weak, stars might never form. Or maybe the rules are pretty much the same, but the history is different. A place, say, where the Greeks built the pyramids. Or where we are different. For example, you might be the person who deals in antiquities, while I'm running a talk show. And Professor Adams has an open mind.”
    Adams went back to examining the ceiling.
    She laughed. Jokes between friends. “Are we saying that a place like that might actually exist?”
    “It's possible. Some physicists say it's a mathematical necessity.”
    Adams made a sound deep in his throat. “As much as it pains me to admit it,” he