Shuffle off to Buffalo - 5. Prompt 5 - The Time-Warped Mirror

Prompt 5 – The Time-Warped Mirror

“Rick”? the white-goateed man asked, looking up from his computer. “Can we get those ice core estimates from around sixty-five mil on screen?”

“My name is Bill,” the other man muttered, annoyed that the old codger was being especially rude and dismissive. Professor Thomas Rutledge’s haughty attitude and mannerisms grated on the late thirty-some year-old assistant professor. Just because he wasn’t a full professor didn’t make him a lackey on this departmental project.

He duly loaded the data and it filled the wall screen, populating the wall-mounted white board with mathematical equations. “That’s Fred for you,” he added, watching the old man’s reaction carefully.

“Are you being rude again? I told you not to call it by that name,” Rutledge said, puffing with anger. “It’s undignified to call an atmospheric development something like that.”

“It looks like the data shows a dip in temperature, not a rise.” Bill responded, ignoring the professor’s tone and words. “Fred may have generated so much particulate in the atmosphere, plant life was severely and negatively impacted by lack of solar radiation.”

“Stop calling it that,” Rutledge growled. “There may have been a meteor, but it was enormous volcanic eruptions that increased temperatures. Lower temperatures were only a blip on the radar screen of pre-history.”

Bill Samuelson grinned behind the mask of a computer monitor. “My bet’s on Fred the Monster squealing in from the beyond the Kuiper Belt and slamming into Mexico.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Rutledge thundered. “I’m taking a break.” The older man stormed off through the doors into the break room beyond without a glance backwards.

The younger man brushed back his wispy blond hair and grinned. He entered the new iridium concentration numbers from the crater into the program. This new analysis tool would more completely estimate the size of the meteorite that slammed into Chicxulub crater on the Yucatan peninsula. This could break the field of paleo-climatology wide open.

“C-c-can I h-help?” A voice behind him asked. Bill jumped and turned around. The gentle, staccato baritone voice belonged to a student intern. A young guy, in his early twenties, by the name of Smythe or something. He was bright enough. Seemed to ask good questions. He was at every class. They had said something about a new intern. Obviously, this kid was it.

“I’m entering in data. There’s not much else to do with this. Perhaps you could weigh some of the samples from the second batch? Those haven’t been measured for analysis yet.”

The young man breathed in sharply while he nodded slowly. Bill looked back to his monitor and was about to begin when he heard the guy clear his throat.

“Yes?” Bill asked, swiveling in his chair.

“I-I’ve neee-ver used the I-i-i-i-CPeeee-MS mmmm-ethod befafa-ore,” the young man stuttered. “I’m s-s-sorry, Dr. S-s-s-amuelson.”

Bill then looked at the guy. His head hung a little low. The student’s eyes were downcast, but there was a set to his jaw that was determined, and almost defiant. He was a little overweight with skin reddened with acne, and indifferently managed hair.

Bill was taken aback. He felt like he was looking in a time-warped mirror, and his heart softened. Smiling up at the young man, the assistant professor then nodded after catching his eye.

“I’ll show you then,” he said, standing up and gesturing toward the back of the room. He heard, rather than saw, the young man followed him. Bill moved rather quickly, but the student didn’t seem to struggle to keep up.

“Down this hall is the equipment we’ll need to use. You see, we will be analyzing the sample rocks using chemical tests not radiation markers. This is a rather new way to determine the concentrations of iridium and possible size of the initial object.” Bill felt like a bloviating fool at first, until he heard the student respond.

“I w-w-wondered how we d-d-id this process-s-s here without t-t-t-treating with r-radiation f-first.”

The kid had paid attention in class. Hell, the young man must have been reading his last published papers as well since some of this was way beyond the scope of the classroom.

Bill felt his chest inflate just a little more fully, and he stood a bit more erect. “Yeah, we found this chemical test worked as well and, in some cases, even better, than other methods.”

The kid beamed at the attention.

“Your name again?” Bill asked. The young man’s face deflated, but then the professor continued, “I believe your last name is Smythe, correct?”

“My first name is Adam,” the student responded quickly, his face reddening slightly. “I really enjoy your Paleo-climatology class. I volunteerrrr-ed for this.”

“Really?” Bill said, fascinated. “So, you want to learn about what Fred the Monster did to earth over sixty million years ago?”

“Um,” Adam swallowed hard, “yeah. I think the mass extinctions are incredibly fascinating. I mean, to think there are creatures who lived for millions of years and in a geological instant, disappeared. It’s crazy.”

Bill smiled and noted young intern lost his stutter during the exchange. He also could feel the excitement bubbling from within the guy’s being. Adam was brimming with enthusiasm for this work. It reminded him of someone familiar.

A young William Samuelson had felt the exact same way. He didn’t struggle with stuttering, but instead an intense and almost pathological shyness that would freeze his brain and lock his jaw tight. That time-warped mirror was becoming clearer as the moments passed.

They reached the door to the geological laboratory and Bill paused and turned to his student. “How would you like to drive the ultra-gamma-spectrometographer?”

The kid stopped in his tracks. “I-I couldn’t,” he said in surprise.

“Not at first, but with a little practice,” Bill said. “You’ll be running the show in no time.”

Those words echoed in his head from not too long ago, he suddenly realized.