Nightworld

Bill watched a moment as Nick hurried away toward some odd-looking contraption suspended on a boom over the hole. He was proud of him. He'd come a long way from the bratty little nine-year-old orphan he'd played chess with back in his early days at St. Francis Home for Boys. He was mature and self-assured—at least in the field of physics. He wondered how he was faring socially. Bill knew Nick was more than a little self-conscious about his appearance—the misshapen skull from when he was abused as an infant, the old acne scars. But a lot of worse-looking men had found the girl of their dreams and lived happily ever after. He hoped that would happen for Nick soon.

He turned back to the hole and stared into its black depths.

What was that Nietzsche quote? If thou gaze into the abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee. That was how he now felt as he looked downward, as if he were gazing inward at his own reclusive darkness. The abyss expanded before him, beckoning. What mysteries, what horrors were sequestered in those misty, chaotic depths? For an instant he was gripped by a mad impulse to step off the edge and let himself fall. If it was truly bottomless as Glaeken had said, he would keep falling. And falling. Imagine the vistas, the wonders he'd see. What would he find? Himself? An endless voyage of self-discovery. How wonderful. How could anyone resist? How on earth could anyone with an iota of character refuse? How—?

"Better be careful, Father."

The voice jolted him out of the reverie. To his horror he found himself sitting astride the platform railing, readying to swing his other leg over. The depths loomed below. With a convulsive lunge, he hurled himself back onto the platform and squatted there panting, sweating, and shaking. He looked up and saw one of the city workers standing nearby, looking down at him.

"You okay, Father?"

"I will be in a minute."

"Hey, I din't mean t' scare ya, but I mean we built that railing as sturdy as we could, but it ain't gonna hold a guy your size, know what I mean?"

Bill nodded as he rose shakily to his feet.

"I realize that. Thanks for the warning." Thanks more than you know.

The workman waved and ambled off, leaving Bill alone on the platform. He pulled himself together and moved away from the edge.

What had happened a moment ago? What had he been doing sitting on that railing? Had he actually been readying to jump? What could he have been thinking?

Or had he been thinking at all? More like reacting—but to what? To the abyss?

Bill shuddered. Maybe coming down here hadn't been such a good idea. He'd seen the hole up close. He could watch further developments from Glaeken's window or on the tube. He looked around for Nick and saw him walking his way. His expression was troubled.

"What's wrong, Nick?"

" 'Technical difficulties,' as they say on TV. We'll have it straightened out in a few minutes."

Bill watched Nick's face closely. His upper lip was beaded with perspiration.

"You didn't get the reading you expected, did you."

"We didn't get any reading. A glitch in the receiver, that's all."

Bill allowed himself a quick shot of relief. He wanted very much for Nick to find the bottom of that hole. He wanted Glaeken to be wrong, just once. Not out of animosity or envy, but because Glaeken had been right about everything so far, and everything he was predicting was bad. Bill felt he'd be able to rest a little better at night if just once Glaeken was proven wrong.

And then a thought struck him like an icy wind, carrying off any sense of relief.

"Wait a minute, Nick. You said you didn't receive any signal. Isn't that what would happen if the hole was bottomless?"

"It's not bottomless, Fa—"

"Isn't that what would happen?"

"Well…yes. But that's not the only reason. There are scores of reasons why we wouldn't get a signal back."

"But one of them is that the beam didn't find anything to bounce off, and so therefore it never came back. Am I right?"

Nick sighed. "You're right." Suddenly he sounded tired. "But the hole's not bottomless. It can't be. Nothing's bottomless."

One of the grad students rushed up to Nick with a green-striped printout. Bill could tell from Nick's expression that he didn't like what he saw there. He handed the slip back to the student.

"Do it again. And do it right."

"But we are," the student said, looking offended. "Everything checks out a hundred percent. The beam and the receiver are working perfectly."

Nick tapped the printout. "Obviously not."

"Maybe something down there's absorbing the beam."

"Absorbing the beam," Nick said slowly. He seemed to like the idea. "Let's look into that." He turned to Bill. "I'm going to be tied up for awhile, Father, but hang around. We'll crack this yet." He winked and walked away.