Saturday, December 5, 2015

The Asimov Reality

Image Credits
A note from Angela. Dear Earthlings, please accept my apology for teleporting you out of your comfort zone. Most of this story takes place on Earth, but you might feel disoriented by mention of the planet Tar'tron. If this is your introduction to the worlds of the Galactic Core then here are three things you need to know: 1) think of Tar'tron as a kind of virtual reality simulator of Earth where agents can be trained and familiarized with the languages and other cultural nuances of Earth. 2) Maghylose and Xista are two young Interventionist agents who are being prepared for upcoming missions to Earth. 3) After a short visit to Tar'tron, I will return you to Earth, so don't panic.

1917
Maghylose really enjoyed his life on Tar'tron. However, as an Interventionist agent in training, he had perhaps been enjoying himself too much. Maghylose was tired but happy, having just returned home after a wild night of music and with a new melody that he'd learned from the amazing Xista still dancing in his thoughts. He was also feeling frustrated because Xista was a tough nut to crack.

Two weeks previously she'd arrived in 1917 Tar'tron as a cultural exchange student from the 1980s. She'd brought along her electric guitar and had immediately shaken up the megepi that Maghylose played sax for.

Maghylose was fascinated by Xista and she had quickly become the center of his daily existence, largely because she seemed to be studying Maghylose rather than the year 1917 itself. She'd started walking home with him after jam sessions and lingering in front of his house just to chat. After a week of her attention, it finally occurred to Maghylose that she might like to come in and get to know him more intimately. So he'd asked her in and she'd grinned at him and replied, "Really, Maghy, what kind of girl do you think I am?"

Maghylose had suggested, "A spy for Svahr, sent to test my loyalty."

Xista had giggled and denied being a spy. "Svahr tried to talk me out of visiting 1917. She thinks I'm wasting my time here since she intends to insert me into Earth's timeline further upwhen."

That had been a week previously, but Xista had not really been offended by Maghylose's invitation and she'd continued walking home with him after each meeting of their megepi. And then, since he was completely enthralled by her, he'd kept inviting her in each time they reached his house and she'd blithely refused his offer every time.

Then on this particular night Maghylose had invited her in for a cup of tea and offered to read her some poems. She shook her head and said, "I'll see you later, Maghy." But this time she accented her refusal by stepping close and she kissed his cheek before walking off down the street.

Maghylose was surprised and delighted by that soft little kiss and he cried out, "Hey, come back here!"

Turning her head to speak over her shoulder, but not slowing her steps, she said enigmatically, "Tonight we don't have time for poetry, but ask me again sometime."

Grinning broadly, Maghylose watched the graceful movements of her long strides until Xista went around the bend and was lost from sight. Then he went up his front steps and into his house, whistling a tune and planning what he would say to Xista the next time that he saw her.

And, blissfully, his thoughts of the magnificent Xista shielded Maghylose from thinking about the fact that he'd only have time for a few hours of sleep before his next scheduled training session. He pushed away the intruding thoughts of work and the irksome drudgery of training as an Interventionist agent. Maghylose was content to let his attention linger on the joys of discovering Xista and her enchantments. But just then, Svahr, his boss, suddenly popped in, and Maghylose was a wee bit annoyed. He wondered: What does she want?

Svahr had teleported herself directly into Maghylose's comfortable home, uninvited. By the conventions of Tar'tron culture, such an unannounced teleportation arrival was rude enough, but Svahr did not mind compounding her social blunders. Without any preliminary chitchat, she gave him unwelcome news, "I have a mission for you, on Earth."

Maghylose stopped in his tracks and glared at Svahr. Well, he tried to glare. Given his emotional leanings, he found it impossible to successfully glare at Svahr. She always looked simply smashing. Rationally, he knew that she was ancient, but Svahr, who could alter her shape at will, always used the physical form of a cute nubile. He'd had a crush on Svahr ever since first working under her as a trainee. There were no rules that discouraged personal relationships between members of the Service, even those between supervisors and trainees, but she'd quickly and decisively rejected his advances. Svahr was all business.

Maghylose had just been through a particularly long jam session with his megepi and he was very tired and feeling a little guilty about the fact that, due to fatigue, he'd have trouble thinking straight during his next work period. He was well-practiced at constructing excuses and rationalizations for arriving at training sessions exhausted from his recreational activities. For the past week he'd been pretending that he had a duty to get to know Xista as a fellow Interventionist agent, but the moment that his boss suddenly appeared, Maghylose felt the cruelty of the entire universe weighing down on his shoulders. He was only a few feet from the welcoming comfort of his bed. So close! It seemed like Svahr must have been watching him and waiting to grab him at just the worst possible time. With a sharp tone of crankiness in his voice he muttered, "Nice to see you, too."

Although he'd never say it to her face, in his personal thoughts, Maghylose classified Svahr as a rabid Interventionist. Having worked for many, many centuries on Earth, she'd even seen humans who were inflicted with rabies. In contrast, Maghylose was still learning his way around Earth, only having completed a few brief training missions on that distant planet. The world of his origin, the planet that still captivated Maghylose, was the synthetic environment of Tar'tron, a place where, thanks to the aliens who had first brought humans there, ghastly evils like viral diseases had never existed.

Svahr was always abrupt in her dealings with Maghylose and he was continually dismayed by her antisocial behavior. Svahr was oblivious to his sensibilities since she'd long ago fallen in love with Earth. For Svahr, nothing in the universe mattered more than Earth and its bumbling, tool-using primates. Over the long millennia of her service as an Interventionist agent, she had come to almost completely forget what it had been like growing up within the comfortable artificial culture of the Galactic Core.

Gradually, through the long grind of her time in the Service, Svahr had come to think of the Core as little more than an alien-engineered dream. With her attention given totally to Earthly matters, she now concerned herself with Tar'tron as little as she possibly could. For Svahr, Earth was real while Tar'tron was just a fantasy world. She occasionally visited the planet Tar'tron only because it was the world that provided new recruits for the Service.

Impatient, but following the dictates of protocol, Svahr ignored the flippant remark that had been offered by Maghylose and she asked, "Well, are you read to go?"

Maghylose briefly turned his back on Svahr. With heartfelt disappointment and sadness, he quickly sent a message to the members of his megepi, informing them that he was once more leaving Tar'tron on a business trip. He was tempted to send Xista a separate and more personal message, but what could he say? All the possibilities seemed fruitless.

From his perspective, Maghylose felt that getting sent off to Earth now was a particularly cruel fate since Xista had only just come into his life and he was in the middle of the enjoyable process of falling in love with her. So, resolutely but woefully abandoning his merry pursuit of Xista, he growled over his shoulder at Svahr, "Ya, I'm ready."

Maghylose blinked and then he was far across the galaxy, in Svahr's operational command center "near" Earth. Maghylose did not really understand how the concept of location applied to the Hierion Domain, but in some sense Svahr's command center was connected to Earth, and a mere mortal might as well think of it as being located close to Earth. Of course, the primitive Earthlings had absolutely no chance of detecting anything that was in the Hierion Domain.

Svahr had teleported them directly to her Reality Viewing chamber. She looked at Maghylose with suspicion and said, "I suspect that you have been skimping on your training sessions, again." She gestured towards the Viewing equipment, "Let me test your Viewing skills."

Maghylose tried not to be perturbed by Svahr's rude comments. His working hypothesis was that Svahr was not really a mean-spirited bitch. She seemed to take pride in ferreting out new Interventionist agents who were not fully committed to helping the long-suffering Earthlings. If a recruit would put up with a barrage of verbal abuse from Svahr then that was a good indicator of deep devotion to the Interventionist cause. Maghylose was certain that Svahr had already carefully examined his recent training schedule and his automatically-calculated Viewing proficiency score, so she had no real need to give him a test.

Still, there was no way for Maghylose to refuse Svahr, and having no choice in the matter, Maghylose braced himself and allowed his brain to be connected with the Viewer. A swarm of nanite probes invaded his nervous system and linked his conscious mind into the Reality Viewing equipment. With no warm-up period to allow his synapses to adjust to the Viewer, the coded parameters of a new Reality Search algorithm flooded into his awareness and rattled his consciousness.

Hoping to speed up his analysis of the time travel problem that she was posing, Svahr also gave Maghylose some high order verbal guidance. "Search upwhen from 1917. Find the one Earthling who, if given some help from us, could most rapidly accelerate the rate technological advance. Optimize for both acceleration and earliest temporal impact. I want to boost human technology in advance of First Contact and the arrival of the Buld spacecraft on Earth in the 21st century."

Feeling pressured by Svahr's abruptness, Maghylose was grateful that during those times when he was not relaxing and having fun with his megepi, he had conscientiously kept up with the standard Interventionist training schedule which included many opportunities to practice Reality Viewing. He'd grown somewhat proud of his ability to View and explore the alternate Realities that might exist in the future of Earth.

Because of his training, Maghylose was already quite familiar with the current Reality of Earth and particularly the timeline of historical events in the 20th century. Now he quickly scanned the technology landscape of the 20th century using the new search parameters that had been provided by Svahr. Making use of his visual cortex to efficiently evaluate the data that were being generated by the Viewer, he was surprised to see that there was one extremely high peak jutting up above the bumpy abstract representation of the Earthly technology terrain.

Zooming in on that tall peak and methodically extracting its causal signal elements, Maghylose identified the individual Earthling of the early 20th century who had the most potential to alter the pace of technological progress on Earth. Maghylose had explored similar scenarios as part of his training and his long study of 20th century history. He expected to find that someone like Albert Einstein or Adolph Hitler would turn up in his analysis of the data for Svahr's new scenario. With surprise in his voice, Maghylose read off the biographical identifiers, "Isaac Asimov, apparently some science writer in the current Reality."

Svahr confirmed his findings. "Not bad, except you miss-characterized the true relevance of this particular Earthling. In the extant Reality, Asimov basically invents the profession of investigative science reporting." Svahr added a snide bit of commentary, "You're supposed to be an expert on the 20th century, but it seems you've never heard of Asimov."

Maghylose had grown accustomed to biting criticism from Svahr. He felt no guilt for not knowing anything about Asimov. Maghylose suspected that even if he devoted every waking moment to the study of Earth, Svahr would still not be satisfied with his knowledge of Earthly history or his Reality Viewing abilities.

Svahr shifted the Viewer into its mode for high resolution scanning of possible future Realities. She asked, "Now, what type of new life must we arrange for Asimov in order to radically change Earth's History? I want to create a new Reality in which the Earthlings can work with the Buld to limit the period of global warming and prevent the coming sea level rise catastrophe on Earth."

Maghylose found himself struggling to harness the torrent of information being provided to him by the Viewer. He was caught up in the vast swirling sea of possible future Realities, each with a unique timeline of events. Normally he might spend a couple of days becoming familiar with a newly proposed Reality Change, but Svahr was pushing him hard and fast.

Lucky for Maghylose, the future of Earth in the Asimov Reality was simplified by the presence of many human dead-ends that lay scattered among the possible timelines of Earth. The visual projections of the data that were being collaboratively constructed by his brain and the Viewer were characterized by wide swaths of Extinction Black, the regions of darkness marking futures in which the human species was quickly extinguished by events like nuclear wars.

Self-inflicted wounds were not unique to the Earthlings. Maghylose had been through years of training that had familiarized him with the various technology-induced disasters that commonly destroyed most human-like species during their technological adolescence. But his problem was, out of an infinite number of possible futures, futures where sometimes there were only tiny difference one from another within the 20th century, how could a low-bandwidth human mind possibly select the one best option for Humanity or find the least destructive path towards a desirable future for Earth?

Watching Maghylose struggle to absorb the data stream of the Reality Viewer and after waiting a full minute, Svahr had exhausted her small reserves of patience. She gave Maghylose a hint, "Apply the Fundamental Theorem of Intervention."

Maghylose knew well the basic fear that guided all Interventionists: that their alterations of history would cause some new technological disaster. The Interventionist mantra was: Do No Harm. He scanned carefully for Realities in which a change in Asimov's life could accelerate the pace of technological advancement on Earth without causing damage to the long-term viability of the human species.

Finding a good future for Earth was not easy. The Earthlings were locked into a bi-stable attractor where most futures either led to nuclear war or endless fossil fuel burning and a catastrophic rise in atmospheric carbon dioxide levels. And not only that, beyond the 20th century there were also other, even worse potential technological disasters lurking in Earth's future.

Not surprisingly, most of the possible futures that Maghylose could see in the Asimov Reality soon led to horrible outcomes for Earth. Tool-using primates had a knack for self-destruction and for upsetting the fragile ecology of Earth. Sorting through the projected futures, Maghylose finally spotted a small valley of least harm, a possible new type of future for Earth in which Asimov, if given a helping hand, might actually improve Humanity's future above and beyond what was possible in the timeline of the current Reality.

Maghylose read out the biographical parameters for Asimov in that special new Reality, "Asimov must become a physician. Actually, a biomedical researcher. Ah, yes, now I see. He can actually accelerate progress in neuroscience research during the mid-20th century and give a small cadre of Earthlings access to the Bimanoid Interface before the arrival of the Buld spaceship. Amazing."

Startled by the fact that an obscure writer could have such a profound impact on Humanity, Maghylose began to use the Realty Viewer to look more closely at this possible new future of Earth. He was particularly curious about the details of events in the years immediately after First Contact- but then, without warning, his visual cortex was rudely cut off from the data stream being created by the Viewer.

Svahr had pulled the plug and disconnected Maghylose from the Viewer before he had a chance to explore his own future and the role that he would have to play in creating the Asimov Reality.

Maghylose said, "Hey, wait! There was something else-"

Svahr didn't give him a chance to complain. "I know, but that is not your concern."

For a brief moment Maghylose thought he had seen himself in that View of a potential new Asimov Reality. And it had seemed that he'd been red-flagged, the Interventionist notation for having been captured by the Overseers. But just when Maghylose made that awesome discovery, Svahr leaned over and pressed her body against him. Reaching past Maghylose, Svahr popped open the manual access panel of the Viewer and performed a hard re-boot, erasing all of the saved data that had accumulated during Maghylose's Viewing session.

With Svahr close to him in the tight confines of the Viewing chamber, Maghylose found himself wondering if Svahr had ever had a boy friend. Rationally he knew that she was several millennia old, but her taught body was delightfully molded and draped in only a flimsy garment that accentuated her female form.

Maghylose felt slightly dizzy and he shook his head. He was not sure exactly what he had just glimpsed while zooming in on the structure of the Asimov Reality. For a fraction of a second, he had seen something- but now he could not remember...

While using the Viewer, his mind had begun to recognize a startling implication for planet Earth in any Reality that included a medically-oriented Asimov. Maghylose sensed that such a world would react differently to First Contact and develop a new style of human-alien relations, but he had not been given enough time to understand exactly what shape this new future would take. Would it turn out better or worse than did the current Reality? One thing was clear: if Asimov were transformed from a writer into a neuroscientist then the entire future of Humanity would be altered.

Maghylose knew that for most Reality Changes the Inertia of Time imposes strict limits on the alterations to a timeline that could be induced by Interventionist agents. Thus, the long-term impact of most Reality Changes was minimal, at least when viewed from the perspective of future events many millennia upwhen from the imposed Change. Most Interventions into the course of Earth's history caused only a temporary Change in the timeline lasting a few centuries. Due to the physics of Temporal Inertia, Time tended to return to its original shape after a limited period of change in the timeline. However, Asimov was apparently a potent nexus in time, one of those rare individuals who could, under the proper circumstances, change all of human history.

As a trained Interventionist agent, Maghylose also knew that Earth was currently a battle ground in a complex Time Travel War. As long as the Interventionist agents on Earth only made tiny changes to the timeline, those alterations could go unnoticed and uncorrected. Maghylose knew that any Change altering the life of a nexus personality such as Asimov would surely attract Overseer attention, possibly even leading to the capture of Interventionist agents like himself.

Although Maghylose was devoted to the Interventionist goal of helping the Earthlings, he was not a fanatic like Svahr. Maghylose could picture Svahr sacrificing herself to the Overseers in order to complete a mission on Earth, but Maghylose hoped to return safely to Tar'tron, not rot in an Overseer prison.

Completing her deletion of sensitive data, Svahr stepped away from Maghylose and the Viewing equipment. Exiting from the Reality Viewing chamber, she continued briefing Maghylose on his mission while she strolled through the command center. "I want you on Earth today. Asimov won't be born for a couple more years, but I need you properly positioned so that you can intervene to alter his education and make it possible for Asimov to attend medical school."

Maghylose followed Svahr out of the Viewing chamber and for a moment he was distracted by the motion of Svahr's svelt body. Something in the seductive sway of her walk reminded Maghylose of Xista, the newest member of his megepi, who Maghylose was trying to romance and entice into an intimate relationship. His carefully laid plans for constructing a personal relationship with Xista would all be wasted if he now became involved with this new mission on Earth.

Maghylose tried to put Xista out of his thoughts. With his mind wandering towards pleasant memories of Xista, he had not heard something that Svahr had been saying while she led him through the inter-connected rooms of the command center- something about the duration of his mission on Earth. From what he had seen in the Viewing chamber, this was going to be a big and complex Intervention that would certainly keep him on Earth for an extended period of time.

Svahr had led Maghylose all the way to the other end of the command center, to the room that was her gateway to Earth. She casually activated the complex equipment that could generate and focus a teleportation portal connecting to the surface of Earth.

Now she turned and drilled her big dark eyes into him. With half of his mind still lingering on the magical Xista and her many wonderful features, Maghylose complained, "Svahr, you are going too fast, now. Surely you can't be serious! I'm not going to spend decades living in the 20th century, in a rat's nest like New York City. I have a life on Tar'tron and my megepi is just starting to-"

When Maghylose launched into his protest, Svahr narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. Maghylose fell silent. Svahr let the silence linger for a while then she reminded him, "You will do exactly what I tell you to do or you can resign from the Interventionist Service. Make up your mind. Right now."

Maghylose tried to swallow the huge lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. As a junior Interventionist still in training, he had not imagined that he would be called upon to perform such a long and important embedded mission on Earth. If this Asimov Intervention did last decades then it would completely shatter all of the personal plans that Maghylose had been formulating. And being away from Tar'tron for twenty or thirty years was the best-case scenario. On a mission like this he might be captured and never return to Tar'tron. He asked, "Exactly how long do you want me to remain on Earth?"

Svahr shrugged, clearly unconcerned for his plight. "I can't say. We'll certainly have to make a mid-course correction and keep evaluating our options as this Intervention unfolds. For a Reality Change of this magnitude there will be attempted counter measures by the Overseers of Earth. We can count on that. So, I can't predict what your fate will be...if or when you will return from Earth."

Maghylose stated rather dismally, "I might be captured by the Overseers."

Sounding bored, Svahr tried to briskly dismiss his misgivings. "That's a risk that we all face when we go to Earth. You've been trained to take precautions and avoid the Overseers." With a sly smile curling her pretty lips, Svahr added, "This mission will put your training to the test."

Maghylose sighed. He'd sometimes dreamed of doing something dramatic on Earth, possibly participating in a mission that completely altered the course of Human history and that could change the outcome of future human-alien interactions. Now he had the chance to actually do it. "Fine, but I want time to study my options and-"

Svahr interrupted again. "Absolutely not. If you are captured by the Overseers, I don't want you able to tell them anything useful. You must go to Earth knowing nothing of my long-term strategy. I'm even going to use a nanite sweep to erase your memories of the global warming problem and your conscious awareness of sea level rise as our main concern for Earth's near-term future. Once you are on Earth, you will receive subliminal guidance via the Interface. You will be fed just enough information to allow your mission to be accomplished."

Maghylose hated going into anything blind, but he knew that there was no arguing with Svahr. With a deepening sense of gloom and foreboding, he realized that he had been selected for this mission because of his junior status...he was expendable. He asked, "What identity will I use on Earth?"

Svahr turned and checked the proximity detectors of the portal, assuring that nobody would see Maghylose at the moment when he suddenly arrived on Earth. She replied, "Use your Dennis McGee persona. Establish your residency in New York: a home and false family history have already been established for you. In a few weeks, after you have acclimated, I'll move you into a job and put you on a career path that will intersect with Asimov at a critical moment in Time."

Maghylose could sense that Svahr was eager to send him to Earth. He could think of no delaying tactic that would accomplish anything other than just annoying Svahr. Feeling intimidated by the scope of this new mission, but somewhat exhilarated by the opportunity to become a major player in the Interventionist effort, he squared his shoulders and said, "Fine. I'm ready."

Svahr looked at Maghylose and gestured towards the Gate. The Gate's indicator light shown green, signaling that an active link existed between her command center within the Hierion Domain and Earth. Peering through the portal, on the other side of the Gate, Maghylose could see what looked like a conventional living room of an early 20th century home. The map display to the side of the portal showed Maghylose exactly where he would arrive on the surface of Earth. He nodded to Svahr and stepped through the portal.

A moment later Maghylose was on Earth, inside his new home. For a moment he felt dizzy and disoriented. Upon being teleported, all of his nanites had been stripped from his body and it took some time for his brain to settle into a new pattern of activity that was free of nanite influence.

Now feeling quite tired and suffering the brain fog that always came with a sudden loss of nanites, he squelched his natural curiosity. Rather than explore the house, he simply went to the bedroom and tried to sleep. New York was only a few hours from dawn and he wanted to adjust to local time as quickly as possible.

Flopping on the bed, he muttered to himself, "I hate feather pillows." He'd included that information in his summary reports after each of his previous missions on Earth. It was certain the Svahr could have arranged for his new bed to be supplied with a different kind of pillow, had she cared even the tiniest bit for his comfort. Drifting towards sleep, Maghylose thought: Oh, well. Buying a new pillow will be Dennis McGee's first task.

Sleep did not come easily. Maghylose was still wearing his thin clothing that was appropriate for Tar'tron, but now he was cold and so he had to get under the covers. As usual for a mission on Earth, when the nanites had been extracted from his body, he'd lost the automated comfort controls that were usually provided to residents of Tar'tron by a nanite endosymbiont.

Then, after a few minutes, he had to remove some of the covers when he grew too warm. He tried to fluff up the pillow, which only made it smell more like a chicken. Trying to attain sleep and failing, he mentally reviewed everything that he'd have to do during his first days on Earth.

He'd be quite busy for the next few days, but Maghylose decided that buying a new pillow was definitely at the top of his to-do list. He'd studied the structure of 20th century Manhattan and he could picture the location of the store where he would shop for new bedding.

Sadly, he tried to dismiss Xista from his thoughts. Sweet and spicy Xista. For a few minutes Maghylose seethed with resentment of Svahr and the heavy-handed was she had tossed him into the cold and dirty world of 20th century New York City.

Slowly his anger ebbed and he neared sleep. He had to admit, this was a fine house and the map data of the Gate had shown that his new home was situated on a large wooded lot at the north end of Harlem. He'd been in Manhattan before and he knew that his home base could have been worse, much worse.

Finally slipping into sleep while still unable to ignore the uncomfortable pillow, his last thought was: buying a damned pillow...the start of the Asimov Reality.

1935
Columbia University
Admissions essay
Name: Isaac Asimov
Date: Feb. 17, 1935

I have always been quite interested in biology. I became interested in genetics when I read an article about chromosomes in the January 1929 issue of Science and Invention. My uncle gave me a microscope for my eighth birthday and I then began my study of microscopic phenotypic variants of fruit flies. Thomas Morgan was my early scientific hero and his work in the field of insect genetics is what first drew my attention to Columbia University as an institution of higher learning.

By the age of twelve I had discovered a half dozen dominant morphological traits in my flies. My great scientific advance came after I found that I could chemically stain cells and visualize the giant chromosomes of fruit fly salivary glands. After matching two of my morphological mutants to specific chromosome changes, I sent my results to Dr. Morgan at the California Institute of Technology. Please note the letter of recommendation from Dr. Morgan that I have included in support of my application for admission to Columbia.

My long-term academic goal is to attend medical school and become a physician. I believe that medical science will soon identify the genes that cause inherited diseases. If I am given the opportunity to study in the Columbia University zoology program then I will soon be ready to excel in medical school.

I believe I can complete my undergraduate work in three years. If allowed to pursue my scholarly interests then I will be able to make important contributions to science and medicine. I trust that my age (fifteen years) will not count against me at a progressive institution such as Columbia University.

While Dennis McGee glanced once more at Asimov's application, there was a knock at his office door. McGee looked at the door that connected to the outer office where Sally worked and he called out, "Yes?"

McGee's office assistant, Mrs. Edelstein, opened the door and said to McGee. "Sir, it is time for your next appointment. Mr. Asimov is waiting."

McGee slipped Asimov's application back into the folder that rested on his desk. "Thank you, Sally. Please send him in."

Asimov entered the office and McGee rolled his wheelchair out to the center of the room. McGee and Asimov shook hands. Mrs. Edelstein closed the door and returned to her desk in the outer office.

McGee said, "A pleasure to meet you, Isaac." He gestured towards the chair that was used by prospective students.

Wheeling his rather clunky chair about, McGee returned to his side of the desk. Asimov glanced at the wall before sitting down. McGee's journalism diploma was dated 1923, the same year that Isaac had arrived in America. Asimov observed, "You are a Columbia graduate."

McGee followed Asimov's gaze to his framed diploma on the wall. "Yes, Joseph Pulitzer was my boyhood inspiration. I had a long-standing desire to end up at Columbia. At an early age I developed an obsession with Pulitzer, much like your fascination with Thomas Morgan."

Asimov sat down and asked, "And yet, you did not become a journalist?"

McGee laughed. "Well, Isaac, you touch on an interesting story, but I'm supposed to be interviewing you. Suffice it to say that when I lost the use of my legs to polio, my dream of being a roving newspaper reporter came to an end."

Asimov shook his head sadly. "Some day poliovirus will be grown in cell culture and a vaccine will be made."

McGee had followed Asimov's life carefully and he'd come to suspect that Isaac's brain was naturally tuned to the Hierion Domain. If so, Svahr might constantly be feeding information into Isaac's unconscious. That information flow might include nuggets of scientific knowledge and even information about the future. McGee chuckled quietly and asked, "Is that a prediction?"

Asimov shrugged and replied, "I've read about other viruses that have been grown in the lab, grown inside cultured cells. Why not poliovirus, too?"

McGee waved his hand and re-directed their conversation. "Isaac, I am impressed by your scientific knowledge. I've never before received an application for admission that was accompanied by a letter from a Nobel Prize winner."

Asimov grinned broadly. "Dr. Morgan is kind to take an interest in my studies."

McGee nodded and said with solemn conviction, "More to the point, Morgan is amazed by your precocious scientific abilities. It would certainly be a disaster for Columbia to not latch onto you, Isaac. I won't beat around the bush. I'll make sure that you are admitted to Columbia and given scholarship support." McGee was smiling broadly, but then he hesitated, creating a brief dramatic silence. Asimov could hear Mrs. Edelstein in the outer office, typing at a rapid rate. McGee continued, "On one condition."

Asimov asked dubiously, "A condition?"

"Yes." McGee laughed at the stricken look on the young man's face. "Nothing alarming, son. I simply want your promise that you will come to me if you run into any difficulties during your studies. You might face some troubles due to your age and even some nasty discrimination because of your family background."

Asimov asked rather innocently, "Discrimination at Columbia?"

McGee explained, "Sadly, even institutions of higher learning are plagued by racism and despicable biases against some students. As a man of African descent, I've personally experienced some ugliness and unfair treatment, but Columbia has a commitment to equal opportunity. You'll enjoy your time here as a student. I'll make sure of that."

Asimov sighed in relief. "Thank you, sir. I am nervous about starting college at such a young age. I'll be most grateful for your help and mentoring."

"Whatever challenges you face, I'm sure you will rise above them." McGee noisily and triumphantly stamped a red ink "APPROVE" on the file folder holding Asimov's application. "Now, do you have any questions for me?"

Asimov replied, "Will it be possible for me to have a dual major in chemistry and biology? I want to avoid some of the conventional pre-med curriculum. I'm squeamish about working with dead bodies."

McGee rubbed his chin. "Hmmm. I will investigate your options. However, if you plan to attend medical school you really should have experience with dissections and anatomy."

Asimov suggested, "If we are entering into a new age of molecular medicine then there will be a need for physicians who understand anatomy at the smallest scale, at the level of cells and how they create life from molecules."

"Excellent! I know that some of our younger faculty members agree with that view, Isaac. I think Columbia really is the place for you. If we need to, we'll design an independent study program that supports your interests...and shields you from having to carve up dead bodies."

McGee rolled his chair across the room and shook Asimov's hand once more. He opened the door. "A pleasure meeting you, my boy. Best of luck with your academic endeavors."

Asimov exited from the office and Mrs. Edelstein paused her typing. She held out her hand, expecting McGee to hand her Asimov's application folder. McGee held up the folder and shook his head. "I'll personally handle this one, Sally. I'm going to see the Dean right now."

1953
Isaac Asimov closed the issue of the Journal of the American Medical Association that he had been reading. Reflecting upon the article he had just read, "Studies in human subjects on active immunization against poliomyelitis", Asimov was reminded of his old friend Dennis McGee.

Dennis had been a valuable mentor during Asimov's studies, and ultimately they had become friends. Then, when Asimov had served briefly in the Army during WWII, he had lost track of Dennis for a few years.

Asimov looked at his watch. He was expecting a phone call from a medical journalist named Ernest Pyle. Pyle and Asimov had met during the war and now Pyle was writing an article about tobacco and the health effects of smoking.

While serving in the Army Medical Department, Asimov had become aware of the vast military network of installations devoted to nuclear physics and the creation of fissile material for bombs.

Asimov never had any interest in war or violence, but he had quickly become interested in the development of nuclear medicine. He became an early adopter of radioisotopes for use in biomedical research. While Asimov sat there reminiscing about the war, his phone rang.

Asimov: Hello.

Pyle: This is Ernie. Is that you Isaac?

Asimov: Yes. I've been awaiting your call.

Pyle: I'm running behind as usual. Getting consumer health information out of the tobacco companies is like pulling teeth! I'll be brief, Isaac...just a few clarifications that I need for my article.

Asimov: Fire away.

Pyle: Now, about the safety of your research...these isotopes that you use in your lab. Do they cause cancer?

Asimov: We take sensible safety precautions in the lab. Soon after I started my research lab, after the war, we began using radioactive probes. Those radioactive chemicals could be dangerous if you ate them, but we used them at the lab bench, in test tubes, as tools that allow purification of the nicotine receptor from human brain cells. Nobody ever got sick in my lab.

Pyle: Good. Now, do I have this right.....your lab achieved the first isolation of a neurotransmitter receptor protein? That was a scientific breakthrough?

Asimov: Yes, we were the first to purify a receptor protein of any kind.

Pyle: Hmmm. What other kinds are there?

Asimov: That's just a detail, but, for example, there are hormone receptors in cells outside of the brain. We just happened to be interested in the human brain.

Pyle: And by "we", do you really mean "you"?

Asimov: Well, casting modesty aside.....yes. It was my idea to purify the receptor for nicotine. Of course, I had a team of talented researchers in my lab who did the bench work. I gave you a list of their names.

Pyle: Right, and that list will be in my article. Your folks will get the recognition that they deserve. I just want to be clear that you are the man in charge. I'm putting your name in the title of the article.

Asimov: Well, just remember, the star of the story is the receptor protein itself.

Pyle: But you are the human interest story, Isaac. You know: immigrant boy makes good...becomes famous doctor. Isolating the receptor protein was the big career-making step for you, right?

Asimov: It is my claim to academic fame. Because of that work, I now have the attention of other scientists. For example, now there is our new collaboration with Bragg's lab in Cambridge, England. That only became possible after we had obtained the purified receptor protein.

Pyle: Right. Why did you have to go all the way to England for that?

Asimov: That's just the way scientists are, Ernie. For us there are no nations, no borders. We all work together. Bragg's lab is the world-wide leader in protein structure work.

Pyle: I don't see what you hope to accomplish with x-rays. Don't they cause cancer?.

Asimov: We want to determine the structure of the nicotine receptor by x-ray crystallography. Safety precautions protect our people from the x-rays.

Pyle: Oh, right. I understand that some guy named Crick has recently been able to use x-rays to determine the structure of DNA. The gene. They beat you to it, eh?

Asimov looked through the papers on his desk and touched the pre-print copy of an article that had been sent to him through the mail by Francis Crick in Cambridge. The Crick and Watson model of DNA structure would soon be published, and Asimov was eager to start a new effort in the lab aimed at identifying the gene that coded for the nicotine receptor protein.

Asimov: Fitting Rosalind Franklin's x-ray data to a structural model DNA was relatively easy. Understanding the structure of a protein is much harder. Nobody has solved a protein structure yet.

Pyle: Why harder? Isn't DNA bigger?

Asimov's team of researchers had found that doing X-ray crystallography of a membrane protein like the nicotine receptor was a nightmare. It was apparently impossible to use standard methods to crystallize such a complex protein in its native conformation. Asimov suspected that it might be easier to isolate the gene that coded for the receptor protein and gain structural information about it in that way.

Asimov: We're getting off topic, Ernie. Crystallizing proteins and doing X-ray crystallography will have to be the topic of your next article.

Pyle: Okay, sorry to meander. I find all of this fascinating. Back to business....by which I mean money. You feel that you don't have enough money to do your work, right?

Asimov: It is not just me. We scientists always want more money so that we can do better research. I want to understand the power of nicotine and how such a simple chemical substance can take control of human behavior.

When asking Washington for financial support, Asimov stated his ultimate goal as finding structural defects in the nicotine receptor protein, defects that might alter brain function and caused genetic diseases such as mental retardation. Of course, he also had other more important -and more personal- motivations that guided his research.

Asimov took his eyes off the article "Molecular structure of nucleic acids" and glanced at the picture of his wife that was hanging on the wall of his office. She had died almost a year earlier, of lung cancer. Her death was one of Asimov's other sources of motivation for his study of neurotransmitter receptors.

Her addiction to nicotine, her resulting decline in health and her ultimate death drove Asimov to search for drugs that might block the ability of nicotine to hook smokers on a habit that daily damaged their health. He wanted to know in precise physical detail, right down to the atomic level, how nicotine bound to the receptor protein and exactly how nicotine's effects on the receptor altered brain function.

Pyle: Yes, I understand that nicotine is the drug that causes addiction to tobacco use. But what about these other new drugs that you have made? Aren't they addictive, too?

Researchers in Asimov's lab had identified some interesting chemicals that interfered with the ability of nicotine to alter the activity of neurons in the human brain. So far, their efforts had been labor-intensive and constituted a mostly random search of a huge molecular structure state space. Asimov dreamed of a future era in which the atomic structure of the nicotine receptor of the brain was known and drug development could proceed in a more rational fashion, fitting new nicotinic drugs, like finely crafted keys, to the exact molecular structure of the receptor.

Asimov: No, Ernie, I've explained that to you before. Our new drugs block the actions of nicotine in the brain.

Pyle: Oh, right. That sounds like magic.

Asimov: It is just chemistry, and hard work. So hard that we need more money to help us do a better job. So far we've just made enough progress to prove that we can block the addictive effects of nicotine in lab animals. We need to do experiments on humans, in hospitals and clinics. That will be very expensive.

Pyle: Okay, okay, I get it, Isaac. The article will end with your plea for cash. Now, you really don't want me to mention your wife? That angle would be a real tear-jerker and would get the checkbooks out.

Asimov: No, please leave her out of it. She was my wife, not an "angle" for fundraising. Just print the numbers that you have for total lung cancer deaths and emphysema cases. That will resonate with more people.

Pyle: Right-o. Thanks for your time, Isaac! I'm all set now. I'll send you the final draft before publication.

Asimov: Thank you, Ernie. When will you be back in Manhattan?

Pyle: Who knows? I'll let you know and we can get together for a chat. I want to see that new girl of yours, too. Jane?

Asimov: Janet. We're just collaborators, Ernie.

Pyle: Right...I'm not buying that. I've heard the way you talk about her. Okay, I'm off!

The call ended and Asimov set down the receiver. He stood up from his desk and looked out his window at the view of the East River afforded by his 17th floor office. For a moment Asimov again thought about contacting McGee, who, as Provost at New York University, had secured research laboratory space for Asimov after the war. Now, Asimov's growing research team needed more bench space.

But no, it was well known that N.Y.U. was out of space. Even if Asimov could be given more lab space by McGee, it would have to come at the expense of some other researcher.

Still, Asimov could not dismiss McGee from his thoughts. He was tempted to at least chat to Dennis about the exciting new work being done on poliovirus. He thought about having his secretary make an appointment to see McGee, then he remembered that she was taking the afternoon off.

Asimov watched a ferry boat cruising up the river. While he reflected on the way that McGee had assisted him at certain points along the course of his education and career, Asimov thought he could hear McGee's voice. "Hello, Issac."

Then Asimov realized that the sound of Dennis was not imagination. He spun around and there was McGee, but not the McGee of Asimov's memory. The McGee who had appeared in Asimov's office was standing there, smiling, his wheelchair nowhere to be seen.

Asimov sputtered, "De- Dennis?"

"Yes, it is me. And no, I did not suddenly regenerate my nerves and leg muscles. My supposed affliction with polio was all a ruse. I shamelessly played off peoples' sympathies to build up my career and be positioned so that I could help you advance your research goals."

Asimov felt his knees wobble and the room seemed to spin slightly. He sat down at his desk and asked, "What's going on?"

Dennis laughed. "I finally got my ticket off of Earth, but before I depart, I wanted to say goodbye. And, I've also been ordered to debrief you one last time and find out if there is anything you need. You always used to be so good at writing everything down, but since-" He left the sentence unfinished. Dennis glanced at the photograph of Asimov's wife.

Asimov nodded, "Yes, since she died I've been rather depressed. But have no fear, I'm slowly coming out of it. In fact, I have a new...girl friend."

McGee chuckled. "I hope you forgive me for hiring Janet as a new faulty member and pushing you two together. With time, I expect you two will accomplish great things with your collaboration...you'll make important advances in the development of psychotropic drugs."

Asimov asked, "Is that a prediction, Dennis?"

McGee only laughed.

Asimov, rubbed his head and tried to clear the buzzing that seemed to originate in his ears and that confound his ability to think. "But your legs, Dennis...they were never damaged?"

"No, that was all part of my role as Dennis McGee. You see, I'm not really an Earthling. I grew up on a world of the Galactic Core, a magical place where there is no disease. While on Earth I'm protected against viruses and bacteria by an almost perfect immune system. I came to Earth specifically to guide you through your career, to allow you to change the history of Earth. I've done all that I can do for you and now it is time for me to return to my home."

Part of Asimov's mind wanted to object to McGee's story, but another stronger part seemed to already know that what Dennis was saying was true. Asimov guessed, "You've spoken to me like this before."

"A dozen or so times through the years. And several times recently, since you stopped writing your diary. So, tell, me, Isaac, what is on your mind? What is slowing your research?"

"Just before you appeared I was thinking about my need for more lab space."

"Yes, of course. I've laid the ground work for a solution to that problem. You'll soon receive an invitation to attend the next genetics workshop session at Cold Spring Harbor. It will be a good place for you to recruit team members who can start the search for nicotine receptor genes. You'll also be able to get some new lab space out there on Long Island."

Asimov wondered if he had heard correctly. He asked, "Genes?"

"Yes, Isaac, there is a family of genes that code for the receptor proteins that bind nicotine."

Asimov nodded with satisfaction. "Our results with receptor-binding drugs had suggested that possibility to us. Thank you for confirming my suspicion."

"Isaac, so much will become clearer to you once you have the genes in hand. You are on the verge of interesting discoveries!"

Asimov wanted to jot down a note to himself, but he found that he could not lift his hand. He muttered in dismay, "I can't move."

McGee nodded. "I've sent submicroscopic devices into your body that have taken control of your brain. You will not remember this visit, just as you could never remember the previous occasions when I spoke to you in this manner. Now, I must go." McGee vanished.

A few minutes latter Asimov stood up from his desk and looked out the window. He yawned and tried to clear the cobwebs from his mind. He thought: There was something I needed to do. Call Dennis? No. There is no available lab space at N.Y.U.

Asimov found himself thinking of Janet, as he had been doing more and more frequently. Thinking about Janet and her sharp scientific mind was a joy. He went across the office and took down the framed photograph of his wife. He whispered, "Goodbye."

Asimov placed the photo in the bottom drawer of his desk then picked up his phone and dialed in a number. It rang.

"Hello."

"Hi Janet. Are you free, now? I want to discuss the a new idea for that benzylisoquinoline experiment."

"Isaac, I'm glad you called. I should have dropped by and shown you our recent data for the benzylisoquinoline series of drugs, but we've been so busy.....you'll be pleased the results we've gotten!"

Asimov gushed, "That sounds wonderful! I'll come over to your lab right now if that is convenient."

"No, I'll come to you. I need to get out and stretch my legs. I'm on my way." She broke the connection.

Asimov placed the handset back on the cradle. He stepped into the outer office where he sat on his secretary's desk and waited impatiently for Janet to arrive, his heart beating rapidly. Asimov chuckled and muttered, "I feel like a school boy."

_________________________________

When Maghylose teleported out of Asimov's office, for the last time, he arrived back inside Svahr's command center in the Hierion Domain. He switched off the equipment that formed and focused the portal to Earth, and while doing so he glanced at the back of his hand and took note of the imperfections in his skin. Now that he would soon return to Tar'tron, he wondered if his old friends would recognize him. He looked down at his legs, purposively shriveled to simulate the aftermath of a poliovirus infection.

Maghylose tried to picture Xista and the other members of his old megepi. Of course, they would all still be young and beautiful, as were all residents of the Core.

Svahr was there, watching him. When Maghylose saw her he complained, "I'm old."

She said, "Don't worry, I just put a swarm of medical nanites back into your body. You've only been on Earth for a couple of decades, so most of your body's decay is correctable. Your legs will return to normal, or even be stronger than before."

Through the course of his decades-long mission on Earth, Maghylose had made periodic reports to Svahr. She'd always taken information from him and never shared any broad perspective with him on how her plans for Earth were unfolding. Now that he was heading back to Tar'tron, with his role as McGee played out, he wondered if there was a chance to get filled-in on the details of the Reality Change that was being engineered by Svahr.

But there was another piece of information that Maghylose wanted from Svahr, and simply by asking for it he risked angering her and sabotaging all possibility of pumping her for details about the future of Earth. He asked bluntly, "Did you kill Asimov's wife?"

Svahr did not get mad, but she replied rather defensively with a question of her own, "What if I did?"

He suggested, "You could have let her live."

Svahr asked, "You would have preferred that she keep suffering and that Isaac be distracted from his work?"

Maghylose asked bitterly, "Are you really comfortable playing God?"

Svahr shrugged, but did not respond verbally to his question. She changed the subject, "Any last news to report from Asimov?"

Maghylose tried to control his anger, realizing that he was not really mad at Svahr, but rather, at the whole idea of himself being involved in an Earthly Intervention that shaped the lives and deaths of millions of innocent people. Following protocol, he gave his report, "I performed the brain modification that you suggested. Asimov's depression is now terminated. There should be no further impediment to his collaboration with Janet. Of course, he is still in need of more lab space so that he can begin his DNA work."

Svahr shrugged, "No matter. My other agent in Manhattan will make sure that Asimov's lab is given some space at Cold Spring Harbor. She'll also check on Asimov's behavior and correct any problems resulting from the brain surgery that you performed."

Maghylose bristled at the idea that he could have messed up Asimov's brain. "All I did was expose him to the surgical nanites that you provided."

"Exactly, but you should have made sure that he was in a proper frame of mind and was experiencing a desirable pattern of brain activity during the surgery."

"He was relaxed and happy. With all of my visits through the years, Asimov's subconscious is quite comfortable with the idea that he is being assisted by hidden Interventionists. And I sense that he really is in love with Janet. He referred to her as his girl friend."

Svahr shook her head. "You are far too romantic. Isaac and Janet are so interested in their research that they won't get around to marriage until 1960. Depending on how events unfold, I might need to use you again at that time."


Maghylose wanted to make sure that he was interpreting her words correctly. He asked, "I'll now stay on Tar'tron for the next seven years?"

Svahr replied, "Yes, you've earned a vacation. However, you'll be busy studying hierion physics. You might need to come back and teach that subject to a few Earthlings during the 1960s."

Maghylose was surprised to hear doubt in Svahr's voice. "You are uncertain?"

Svahr snapped at him, "We've started getting resistance from the Overseers. They know that the timeline has been changed. With each year that passes the divergences are growing exponentially. This whole project could end tomorrow if the Observers detect one of my agents on Earth."

Maghylose sighed. "Since you plan for me to return to Earth, I guess you can't give me any details about your long-range objectives."

"Correct." Svahr seemed to examine him with a critical eye...or, was it actually more a type of curiosity? She asked, "But what does it matter to you? I thought you would be dying to get back to Tar'tron."

Maghylose had come to regret his previous thinking about Earthlings. Yes, Earth had its grimy underside, but he had come to appreciate people like Asimov and Janet who devoted all their hard work to improving the human condition. Now, Maghylose felt embarrassed to be abandoning Asimov and he doubted if he could return to Tar'tron and blissfully waste time relaxing with friends and making music with a megepi.

Rather lamely, he replied, "After all these years, I can't help being interested in Asimov's fate."

Svahr nodded knowingly. "I can tell you just one thing, since it only concerns events of the next seven years. I have another agent in New York who is ready to further guide Asimov towards creating a drug combination that will efficiently link the brains of some Earthlings to the Bimanoid Interface. Janet and Isaac will develop the key nicotine-modulating drug by experimenting on themselves during the next few years." And with that concise debriefing complete, Svahr teleported Maghylose back to Tar'tron.

1960
After seven and a half years on Tar'tron, Maghylose was getting nervous. What if Svahr didn't show up and order him back to Earth?

He'd spent years systematically preparing to return to Earth after learning that Xista was not on Tar'tron. Maghylose had learned from his old friends that Xista had disappeared from 1917 immediately after Maghylose had gone to Earth.

Rather than join a megepi and try to merge back into the culture of Tar'tron, Maghylose had started devoting his every waking moment to his work. He formed an ad hoc team of agents who systematically studied 20th century Earth and the changes that were being made to human history by Svahr. After three years of searching, they'd discovered Xista, living as a N.Y.U. medical student and working as a researcher in Janet's lab.

It was clear to Maghylose that Xista was systematically guiding Isaac and Janet towards the discovery of a chemical cocktail that would unleash the hidden potential of the human brain.

Asimov's collaboration with Janet had started off as an investigation of drugs that could terminate addiction to nicotine. While testing the safety of those drugs on themselves, they noticed some interesting effects of the chemicals on cognition.

After expressing interest in the project and demonstrating her technical skills, Xista had been placed in charge of the development of cholinergic drug combinations that could boost cognitive performance.

After seven years of working together on their collaborative research project, Janet and Asimov had gotten married. They took a long vacation during a six month sabbatical period spent visiting research facilities in Europe.

By Viewing the current Reality of Earth, Maghylose knew that Xista was very close to providing Isaac and Janet with the means to link the brains of Earthlings to the Bimanoid Interface. Such an alteration to Earth's history was audacious and would surely attract Overseer attention. Xista was in severe danger of being captured by the Overseers who monitored Earth for Interventionist agents.

Then, even as he thought of Xista and her precarious position on Earth, there she was, having suddenly appeared right in front of Maghylose. Startled, he sputtered, "Xi- Xista!"

She stepped forward and have Maghylose a quick hug. "Come on, Maghy, Svahr is waiting for us."

"What? Wait!"

"No, let's go." She grabbed his hand and they were teleported to Svahr's command center.

Svahr pointed at Maghylose and asked, "What is he doing here?"

Xista replied, "He's going to help me teach physics."

Svahr objected, "Not with his current state of mind. Rather than dedicate himself to the study of hierions he's been spying on you for the past seven years."

Xista nodded, acknowledging Svahr's comments, but she pressed her own point, "He has become an expert in hierion physics and Maghylose is also familiar with 1960s Earth. Particle physics is still a discipline that discriminates against women. I need Maghylose."

Svahr shrugged and asked, "Need or want? I don't think I can trust your emotions either. Anyhow, I gave you three perfectly good options for inserting yourself into the timeline as a physics teacher. The prejudices of Earthlings are irrelevant; you can do the work alone."

"Wrong!" Xista pointed to the Viewing chamber. "Let me show you a better option than what you offered me."

They stepped into the chamber and Svahr took control of the viewer. Xista said, "Activate my bookmark. What I'm showing to you is a Reality in which Maghylose works with me on Earth. Look at the outcomes. The two of us working together produces the optimal path through he 1960s, a path that leads to exactly the desired future for Earth."

Svahr carefully studied the data and then she looked at Xista. "Remarkable. How did you discover this possible Reality?"

"You provided the parameters for the search. Your error was eliminating Maghylose from candidacy for another mission to Earth. You assumed that his interest in me made him too emotionally involved to function as an agent in the 1960s. I flipped that assumption end-for-end and-" She gestured towards the Viewing equipment, "It quickly became clear that Maghylose and I must work together in order to create the optimum solution for Earth's problem of catastrophic sea level rise."

Svahr complained, "But you have seen your own future. I can't send you to Earth, now. You know too much."

Xista shook her head, "No, I restricted my Viewing. I was careful to only View the 1960s and the physicists who must be given knowledge of hierions."

Svahr dug in her heals. "But Maghylose has been viewing all of this century. If the Overseers capture you and combine your knowledge then my entire project might be compromised."

Impressed by the tension building up between Svahr and Xista, Maghylose spoke up, "I've never looked at the type of future that Xista is proposing, one where she and I work together to secretly give a cadre of Earthlings knowledge of hierion physics. I think it's perfect: this approach will both limit the number of humans involved and will make it impossible for the Overseers to know what is happening until it is too late for them to act."

Svahr laughed and stated what they all knew, "It's never too late. If you two are captured then the Overseers will simply go back in time and reset the entire 20th century." She checked the data stream of the Reality Viewer one more time. After a minute of Viewing the future, she shut off the machine. "Amazing. I must agree, Xista's proposal is better than what I was planning."

Xista said triumphantly, "Svahr, I'm glad you're willing to admit your error. Now, we'll get back to Earth." Xista had never let go of Maghylose's hand and she quickly led him to the Gate. She programmed the portal for a new destination.

Maghylose could see a dimly lit scene on the other side of the Gate, somewhere on Earth. He glanced at the map and realized that he was looking at the laboratory where Xista had spent years pretending to develop new cholinergic drugs that could amplify the effects of nicotine on the brain. Her lab bench, cluttered with equipment, could be seen to one side. He asked, "You're taking me to your lab?"

Xista squeezed his hand. "No, I just don't want you to miss what happens next. I've been waiting years for this." She pulled a rather thick bundle of paper off of a shelf and finally let go of his hand. "I'll be right back."

Xista stepped through the portal. Maghylose watched her quickly walk the length of the lab bench and then she placed the stack of paper on her desk. She turned, came back towards the Gate and stepped through the portal, returning to the Hierion Domain where Maghylose waited. She said, "There, it is done."

He asked, "What was that, a book?"

Xista explained, "That is the final draft of my Ph.D. dissertation. In it are the clues that will allow Isaac and Janet to gain access to the Hierion Domain."

Maghylose checked the date, displayed to the side of the portal entrance and given in standard Earth measures of months and days. "Hey, don't they get back to New York soon?"

"Yes, their sabbaticals are over. They'll arrive tonight and Janet will start reading the dissertation next week. As far as she knows, I'm gone on a vacation of my own, but neither of us will ever meet Issac or Janet again. I'll just be an obscure, never-published footnote in the history of science. The Overseers will assume that Isaac and Janet were the source of the drugs that can give Earthlings access to the Hierion Domain." Xista reset the portal, tuning it to another position on Earth.

Maghylose could now see another dimly-lit interior setting. For a moment Xista's hand hovered over the proximity detector, then she glance at Maghylose and said, "First, the beach." She changed the Gate coordinates slightly and bright tropical sunshine appeared on the other side of the Gate.

Xista again took hold of Maghylose's hand and pulled him through the portal. Maghylose blinked into the bright sun and felt hot sand beneath his feet. Soft ocean waves curled and crashed a short distance off shore from the white sand beach. Xista said, "Welcome to your new home."

Maghylose turned to his left and saw a large house perched atop a low cliff. He asked, "Where are we?"

Xista gestured towards the house, "That's where we will found our school of advanced physics. Come on, we'll have it all to ourselves for two years and seven months." She sprinted off of the beach and up the steepest part of the trail and stood waiting for him at the top. "Hurry, up Maghy, I've been waiting since 1917 for you to read me some poetry."

Maghylose caught up to her and then they walked hand-in-hand up a winding gravel path to the house. Maghylose had to ask, "Back in 1917, did you know that we would end up here, together?"

"No, I've had to make many adjustments to my plans, but it does seem like we were destined to come together." She smiled at him uncertainly and asked, "What did Svahr mean that you have been spying on me?"

"When I completed my work in New York and learned that you had gone to Earth for your own mission, I couldn't resist investigating your life on Earth."

She pulled his hand to her lips. "That's sweet." They climbed up a set of steps to the back of the house and crossed a wooden deck. Xista opened the back door of the house and they stepped inside. They entered into a large kitchen that was equipped with modern appliances.

Xista suddenly froze and Maghylose managed to say one word, "What-" He followed her gaze and saw a woman standing in the adjoining room. His heart sank.

The woman strolled into the kitchen and said, "Here you are at last."

Xista asked, "You were expecting us?"

The woman turned on the room lights and finally got a clear view of who she was talking to. "Well, you don't match the description of the woman who built and furnished this house, but you'll do." She turned to look directly at Maghylose. "And you...you seem strangely familiar." She fell silent. She was using her nanite endosymbiont to access the Observer databases and when she obtained a match she said, "Dennis McGee, last seen in New York. Still listed as a missing person, presumed drowned in Long Island Sound. That was a rather sloppy exit for an Interventionist agent, Dennis."

Maghylose knew that this woman must be an Overseer. Still, he demanded, "Who are you?"

"Overseer Ridsel." Her database scan continued and then she identified Xista. "Ah, another Asimov associate, Virginia Gerstenfeld. Yes, of course, you were the mysterious drug researcher in Janet Asimov's lab. How nice to meet you. Well, this all has the ripe odor of Svahr. I was hoping she'd come back here one more time, but I'll have to be satisfied to just bag you two small fry. Svahr is always willing to sacrifice her poor bumbling operatives. Some day I'll finally capture Svahr and put an end to this absurd Time Travel War."

Dejected, Xista sank down into a chair. With uncertainty in his voice, Maghylose said, "You're from the future."

Ridsel explained, "I really must congratulate you two. Your work went unnoticed for fifty years. I only traced everything back to here to this house by way of one of the physicists who you taught here. Or, from your perspective, one that you would have taught...a few years from now, in your future."

Xista asked, "What drew your attention to Asimov?"

Maghylose had not been stripped of his nanites when Xista brought him through the Gate. Now he could sense that Xista was seated close to an active portal. He presumed that Svahr was watching them from her position in the command center. Would Svahr rescue them or let the Overseer take them away from Earth? Maghylose started planning how to get Xista through the portal and back to the safety of the Hierion Domain.

Overseer Ridsel replied, "I traced the cholinergic drugs that you used to give the physicists access to the Hierion Domain. Originally the Earth Observers had paid no attention to Isaac and Janet's experiments in the sixties, assuming that they were just part of a harmless fad among academics experimenting with hallucinogens and other psychoactive drugs. Virginia, it is your Ph.D. dissertation that links you to the hierion physicists and to Asimov."

Xista said, "But I never defended my dissertation. It was never published."

"In the 21st century, a work-study student digitized your dissertation along with dozens of others from the pre-digital era of N.Y.U. You'd be amazed at how much data is available to we Overseers."

Facing capture and destruction of her plan, Xista still could not resist expressing some pride in her scheme. "So, it all worked out. We trained a group of physicists who could work with the Buld and save Earth from its global warming crisis."

The Overseer nodded, "Yes, your efforts put an end to global warming. But after that crisis passed, then the scientists that you and Maghylose trained started deploying new hierion-based technologies. Eventually everything fell apart. After First Contact with the Buld in the 21st century, the physicists who'd boosted their cognitive abilities with your drugs took their new hierion-based technologies too far, too fast. Earth sank into a nanite-generated gray-goo catastrophe."

Maghylose said, "I was never told how hierion technology would prevent catastrophic sea level rise."

Ridsel explained, "It was a nice trick, Dennis. The team of Earthlings who you taught hierion physics to could use hierion-based communications technology to contact the Buld spacecraft while it approached the Solar System. They arranged to meet the Buld when they arrived on Earth. Working with the Buld, those physicists were able to save Earth from global warming. The Buld went to Mercury and constructed a solar energy collector. Hierions were used to beam energy to Earth, enough free solar energy to put the fossil fuel industry out of business. The physicists designed a hierion receiver to collect all that free energy for Earth."

Xista asked, "So, you were content to let Earth keep that gift of energy from the Buld?"

Overseer Ridsel replied, "For twenty years we imagined that it was a gift from aliens to Earth, and we could not prove the involvement of Interventionists. Finally we discovered that Interventionists -I now see that it was the two of you- had given the secret of hierions to Earthlings long before the Buld reached Earth. So, it is now my duty to eliminate the source of that interference in the history of Earth."

At that moment Svahr stepped through the portal and said, "Here I am, Ridsel."

Ridsel said, "Svahr! How nice of you to join the party."

Maghylose said to Svahr, "You should not have come through."

Ridsel asked suspiciously, "Why are you here? I'm intrigued. Usually you are content to simply sacrifice your underlings."

Svahr pointed a finger at Ridsel and a cloud of nanites flew out, engulfing both the Overseer and Maghylose. Svahr said to Ridsel, "Shut up."

The Overseer fell silent and slumped to the floor. Xista jumped to her feet and cried, "We're saved!"

Svahr held up her hand, "It is not that simple, but we must work fast, we have only a small temporal window. Ridsel will soon regain consciousness. The Overseers must take Maghylose "out of circulation" and we must revert the changes that he has caused to Earth's timeline."

Xista demanded, "Why? Must you completely undo the Asimov Reality?"

Svahr explained, "I've seen the future, Xista."

"Then surely you could prevent the Overseers from learning about how Maghy and I plan to teach Earth's physicists about hierions. You can still save our plan!"

Svhar nodded. "Yes, I could. But in the future of the Asimov Reality, even if we prevent the Overseers from interfering, troubles for Earth do not end after establishment of a cheap hierion-based energy supply. Even with the Overseers kept on the sidelines, Humanity is later destroyed by hierion-based femtobots, an even worse disaster than atomic war or global warming. So, we must try another way."

Svahr continued, "Maghylose must surrender to Ridsel and go to prison; that will make the Overseers imagine that they have won. And Xista, you must go back in time on a new mission. In the new Reality that you will create (the Ekcolir Reality), Asimov must become a science fiction writer."

Maghylose chuckled, "I knew that Asimov's first love was writing. But why science fiction?"

Svahr replied, "I don't have time to explain that to you Maghylose. But know this: the secret to making a happy future for Humanity -the central trick of the Ekcolir Reality- is all tied up with how Earthlings navigate First Contact and their relationship with alien visitors to Earth. Asimov's science fiction will be the key to First Contact and it must be accomplished without bringing knowledge of hierions to Earth."

Svahr took hold of Xista's hand and pulled her towards the portal. "We must be on our way."

Xista protested, "We can't just leave Maghylose here!"

Maghylose said, "Please go, Xista, quickly. Svahr is right...she inactivated all my nanites, even those that have been blocking old memories. Now I remember what I saw long ago when Svahr first let me look at the Asimov Reality. I must be sacrificed to the Overseers, but you will start the next Reality." He stepped close to Xista and placed his hands on her shoulders. He kissed her lips and for a moment she relaxed against him. Then he pushed her through the portal.

Svahr nodded briefly to Maghylose and then she also stepped through the portal. Under the influence of Svahr's advanced nanites, Maghylose slumped to the floor. A moment later Ridsel woke up and looked around.

As part of Svahr's plan, Ridsel was then able to detect and inactivate the swarm of nanites that Svahr had left behind on Earth. Ridsel kicked Maghylose and he stirred. She said, "Nice try Maghylose, but I defeated your nanites. Get up. My spaceship is just down the lane."

Stumbling and disoriented, remembering very little of his life as an Interventionist agent, Maghylose was led to the Overseer spacecraft. Once onboard, Ridsel activated the flight system and flew Maghylose off to the Overseer prison, located at Observer Base in the Hierion Domain.

A note to the reader. I now return you to the Reality of Earth as you know it. The Asimov Reality is lost in your past, but because of my access to the Hierion Domain I've been able to study past Realities and share my account of the Asimov Reality with you. It was Isaac Asimov who provided the language by which the secret story of our past can be told. Of course, you have no choice but to interpret my story as science fiction, but please take a moment and thank Isaac for sharing with we Earthlings the facts of Time Travel as it once existed (see his novel, The End of Eternity). -Angela Fersoni

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