Chapter Nineteen
Intrepid - 3756 C.E.
As if things weren't already weird enough for Paul, they were about to get a whole lot worse. He was already fairly sure that it hadn't been such a great idea that the Intrepid should enter the Anomaly, however much Beatrice argued that it must be worthwhile if Mission Control had authorised it and Captain Kerensky had let it happen. All those senior officers, especially the Chief Science Officer, couldn't all be mistaken, could they? As Paul rarely spoke to anyone other than Beatrice he was almost prepared to accept that his doubts were misplaced.
But when Beatrice became decidedly unwell, Paul wondered whether it was his wife's loyalty to Mission Control and the senior officers that was misplaced. He'd seen no benefit at all from plunging into the Anomaly. Just where were the promised new discoveries? The bulletin boards were suspiciously empty of anything concrete, although they were full of descriptions of the weird Apparitions. In fact there were so many Apparitions that Paul had become rather bored of them. Another angel. Another dragon. Another giant centipede. What did any of this prove? There were several reports that described experiences similar to Paul's encounter with his doppelganger. The accounts lost most of their impact in the telling, but it reassured Paul that he hadn't gone mad.
"What's wrong, Beatrice?" Paul asked as his wife collapsed onto the sofa with a distressed expression on her face.
"I don't know," Beatrice admitted. "I just don't feel well."
"Is it something to do with the Anomaly?" Paul asked. Common sense told him that the Anomaly wasn't a very likely vector for viruses. On the other hand, it was associated with so much weirdness that Paul couldn't be sure.
"Maybe it is," said Beatrice. "I just need to rest."
Paul helped her to the bedroom which was normally a place for sex but now became a restroom. She lay on the bed and pulled the duvet up over her naked body.
"Do you want me to call Dr. Yoritomo?" Paul suggested.
Beatrice paused for a moment. "No," she said at last. "I don't think that will be necessary."
"Is there anyone else you want to see?"
"Other than Dr. Yoritomo?"
"Yes."
"I don't think so," said Beatrice. "Benoit Yoritomo is the only doctor I trust."
Paul nodded and returned to the living room where he'd been scanning the science bulletin boards. The daily announcements from Dr. Chang and Professor Penrose continued to be remarkably upbeat although it was difficult to see what was so interesting in the various reported discoveries. When Paul was bored with reading these accounts, he wandered into the kitchen to drink a cup of tea and was surprised to see that in the time since he'd last walked through the hallway a spiral staircase had appeared that was leading upstairs.
That was strange. Why would a villa with only one floor have a staircase?
Paul climbed the stairs with some trepidation only to emerge on the same floor that he'd just left with the same stairs still rising above him. He could see that it was the same floor because Beatrice was lying in the same bed and his possessions were in exactly the same disarray in the living room. It was almost as if Paul hadn't climbed the stairs at all.
Paul went up another flight of stairs and found the same situation on the floor above. He'd essentially returned to where he'd just left. He went up another flight. It was the same again. Then another flight. No change. Then three or more flights one after the other. Back where he started.
Perhaps in the other direction?
Paul went down a flight of stairs. He returned to where he'd been before.
Paul decided to make an experiment. He went to the kitchen, picked up an apple and placed it in a prominent position on the floor. He then went up the flight of stairs.
The apple was in exactly the same position on the floor above as it was on the floor below.
Paul went up another floor. The apple was still where it was.
What the fuck! This just didn't make sense.
And how was Beatrice?
Paul wandered into the bedroom where Beatrice was lying on the bed. She was now in quite a state. She was flinging herself from side to side and her perspiration was soaking the sheets. Her eyes had an oddly unfocused look.
"Shall I get you some tea?" Paul asked, not knowing what else to suggest.
Beatrice gazed at Paul with a slightly desperate expression. "Water," she said feebly. "I need water."
"Alright dear," said Paul who returned to the hallway and noticed with alarm that the spiral staircase had vanished although the apple was still where he'd left it.
Paul considered this while he poured out some cold water for Beatrice. He almost certainly wasn't on the same floor as where he'd started in terms of how many flights he'd gone up and come down and yet this was exactly where he'd started. Everything was in precisely the same state of disarray as he'd left it. Just what had happened?
Paul returned to the bedroom. "Here's the water you asked for," he said in a cheerful voice, but he was shocked by what he now saw.
Beatrice wasn't just ill. She was literally fading away. The contours of her body were fuzzy. She was almost transparent. She gazed imploringly at Paul with an alarmed expression.
"What's happening to you?" Paul asked.
"I don't know," said Beatrice. "Where's the water?"
Paul handed her the glass of water but her fingers weren't able to get a grip on it. They touched the sides but weren't solid enough to take a hold. Beatrice was even more desperate.
"Just tip it in my mouth, Paul," she commanded in a faint voice that was strangely reedy, while she bent back her head and opened her mouth.
Paul did as he was asked. However, a damp patch began to spread between her legs at exactly the same rate as the water flowed in. It was as if it hadn't passed through her at all.
