Mathematics of Man

part 3


Blakely leads his president into the chamber and every one there rises until the president finds his seat and asks them to sit. “Nice to see you all this morning. Nicer to see the coffee,” then President Ivory Feldone settles in and smiles at the aid pouring him a hot cup.

Staffing was limited, thus the large table seated relatively few. Of the many positions and groups in the White House, security was the only one fully staffed, and even they did some double duty. After The Breach a lot of people here, there, and everywhere just seemed to drift off. Whether they were accounted for or not, many just were not where they were supposed to be. For the most part, since it seemed to be akin to epidemic, it couldn’t be helped, and so life went on.

The general of the armed services (all of them) spoke first. “Our Space Division reports a broad bombardment of the planet Jupiter, but not of any of the moons. Except for one of the inner moons, possibly Metis? Maybe that was accidental. Our astronomer in Hawaii isn’t sure if that will mess up the ring system or not.” General Dorflinapolis paused to sip from his mug. “They have nearly their whole armada out there. Just firing away all willy-nilly. Seem to be taking a break from it, for now.”

“Thanks George. Any communication with the Moles from our Rangers? I assume there’s been an effort.”

“Of course, sir. Yes. There has been some talk back and forth, but the damned rodents just chatter on in mole tongue. We can’t figure it out, been trying for months.”

Secretary Simmons slapped the table. “Why won’t those rats just speak English, we know they can!” she growled.

“Now Betty, let’s not use derogatory language against our new neighbors,” said the president, always cautioning, lest someone might be listening from somewhere, somehow. So very many things had changed over the prior months, and the best scientific minds hadn’t the first clue. The White House Science Advisor merely threw up his hands and migrated to New NewMexico with his wife, mother, and a pair of binoculars. New NewMexico was widely known for bird watching, and since The Breach, exotic species sightings were on the rise. Fun fact: New NewMexico’s Presidente Maximilian Benito Juarez III had recently outlawed all cats, snakes, and birds of prey from his borders. They were subject, on sight, on pain of death. Lesser dinosaurs were welcome, as they were technically-sort-of birds and mostly ate small mammals.

“I am sorry,” said Betty, “but what of the Space Rangers? Why don’t they put an end to this insanity?”

“The Rangers were never meant to go to war with invaders from another universe. Mostly they just patrol our inner system against rival governments and corporations gone amuck. And our numbers are few. The Moles have a fleet of many hundreds of ships,” explained the general. This was by now common knowledge, and the secretary knew it all.

“I think war is not an option, not even to discuss. Perhaps we were short sighted,” said Ivory. He meant that perhaps Moon State Tech was short sighted, because they had little government oversight. They may as well be the government, as they did whatever they wanted to, whenever they felt like it. Opening up a portal without any defense was not a brilliant move.

The twenty year anniversary of Moon State Tech’s trip down the rabbit hole had come and gone. Many expeditions had gone through the first ten doors and life was good. The Eleventh Door caused a big stir, and there was major religious uproar and some general resistance to its use. The usual probes went through, and they were retrieved at the genesis point where they were themselves probed, dissected, and evaluated for months. Nothing out of the ordinary was discovered, except that the Eleventh Door led to a place distinctly foreign to our galaxy, maybe not of our universe at all.

After that the Mega-space-crawlers went through, led by the now infamous Steven Reparte, resident astronaut. He left Earth system forever to become one of the leaders of a new world. Only he came limping back in his junk shuttle, leaving a trail of crumbs behind for any old space Mole to follow. There was more to it than that, of course. But the gist of the matter was, now the solar system was akimbo, the galaxy was cattywampus; space was full of rocks who’d lost their marbles.  Mathematics, arithmetic, and every slide rule and/or abacus in the Smithsonian’s Science Museum was bent or broken. Some other universe was leaking its own schisms into our own; the ultimate mixed drink. Earth and the surrounding concoctions of billions of years of star dust now faced an intangible era of hangovers and hangover cures.

“Well, there’s nothing for it,” said the president, standing. Around the room, lining the walls, were various portraits of former American presidents, and across from Ivory was an ornate,
gilded frame around an antique mirror. The lights seemed to dim because outside the clouds moved overhead and a morose lowing like that of a dozen cattle reverberated through the wood frames of the windows. In the mirror she was smoking again. She was the daughter he was meant to be, but for a moment lost one way or the other. Ivory wasn’t sure who was in charge now, but in the light of this new world, he didn’t see how it mattered much. “General, could you please organize an expedition to Jupiter? My sister and I will be the first president to visit an otherworldly alien delegation.” They stood and walked from the room, leaving the staff sitting, speechless.

His aid jumped up hastily and followed helplessly behind. “Where are you going now, sir?”

“To the garden of course, to walk my stegosaurus.”