Page 52 of The Paradox Club

Tess and Harry had dinner alone on a night when a full moon erased the stars from much of the sky. Marie had traveled east two days earlier for the wedding of an old friend and had missed her return flight, arriving at the gate just moments after the door to the aircraft had been closed. It would be another day before she returned. Vivian had driven Marie to Madison and would drive her, and a car full of groceries, back the next day. In the meantime, Harry and Tess made do with peanut butter crackers and canned soup.

“Why did Marie miss her flight?”

“Even if we assume that infinite causal regression is metaphysically impossible, we can’t know,” said Harry.

“Sometimes I wish you would answer a question without trying to confuse me.”

“I’m not trying to confuse you, Tess. But think about it. Let’s say that your mother would have made her flight if she’d gotten to the gate two minutes earlier. What caused that two-minute delay? Maybe someone in the TSA line in front of her got stopped because he had something suspicious in his bag. Why did that person make it to the line before your mother? Because he found a parking space right next to the shuttle stop. Why did he get that parking space? Because someone else had just pulled out. Why did that person pull out at that precise moment and not two minutes earlier? Because she stopped to buy a newspaper. Why did she buy a newspaper? Because—”

“Okay, I get it,” said Tess. “You’re saying you can always trace the cause back one step further.”

“If that were true, then the regression would be infinite,” said Harry. “And metaphysics tells us that’s not possible. So theoretically you may always be able to trace it back one step, but practically you can never trace it back to the beginning.”

“But aren’t you assuming that the only reason Marie missed the plane was because of the person in front of her in line? Aren’t there lots of other things that could have delayed her by two minutes?”

“Very good, Tess. Yet another reason that we can never answer the question.”

“So, we can never know why anything happens?”

“In a way that’s true. We can never know the root cause of anything.”

“Why do you think she was late?” asked Tess.

“She dawdles,” said Harry.

“Or maybe it was fate,” said Tess.

TAKEN

Tess left the suitcase on the front porch, then went back into the house. She had packed enough things for herself and Vivian for a couple of nights of roughing it—sweatpants, T-shirts, sweaters. She couldn’t find any sleeping bags or camping equipment, and she knew that October would be cold on the island, so she pulled the comforters off the beds and stuffed them into a garbage bag, which she tossed down the stairs where it rolled to a stop by the front door.

When the black rental car pulled across Vivian’s driveway, blocking any possible exit for the minivan, Tess was upstairs in Vivian’s bathroom, emptying the contents of her medicine cabinet into a paper grocery bag and hoping that represented all of Vivian’s prescriptions. Her own medications were in her purse, which sat by the front door. She decided to wait another ten minutes for either Vivian or her friend Richard to show up, but then she’d leave. She hadn’t been to the island since she was twelve, and she usually slept in the car during the three-hour trip from Madison, but she had an idea of its general location. She could at least get somewhere where the men in black couldn’t find her, then call Vivian, who must know how to get to the island.

She was in the kitchen filling a cooler with cold cuts, cheese, fruit, and cans of soda when Montag 5 stepped onto the front porch and eased the unlocked front door open with the barrel of his handgun. If she had not had her head inside the refrigerator examining the contents of various Tupperware containers, she might have heard his footsteps in the front hall. She dropped the cooler by the front door as Montag 5 was tiptoeing through the rarely used dining room, leaving footprints on the dusty floor. By the time Montag 5 reached the kitchen, Tess had returned to her room upstairs to see if she had forgotten anything. She glanced at her phone—two minutes more, she thought. She wished Vivian and Richard would hurry the hell up. She didn’t relish heading into northern Wisconsin by herself, nor did she delight in the possibility of confronting the men in black a second time without backup.

In the doorway of her bedroom, Tess pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket—the sheet onto which she had transcribed Harry’s message. She wanted Vivian to explain Harry’s life’s work, and to tell her what was so important about October 14—now only a day away. And maybe Vivian would know what Marie had that Tess needed. How could she even begin to understand Harry’s message if she didn’t talk to Vivian? Maybe she should wait a little longer. She looked in the room at the one object she wasn’t sure she should leave behind—the mysterious radio with its bizarre broadcasts. There was plenty of room in the back seat of the minivan. It couldn’t hurt to bring it along. She unplugged the radio and wound up the cord, shoving it into the back of the radio’s case.

* * * *

Nemo 7 paced back and forth on the front porch, glancing up and down the street. Not only had Montag 5 taken charge and gone into the house to “take” Tess, but he was unexpectedly armed, which put Nemo 7 at a distinct disadvantage. He ran over the events of the morning, trying to decide what he might have done differently. Could he have warned Tess when she met them at the door? Could he have confronted Montag 5? No and no. He would call the president if he still had his phone, but Montag 5 was too smart for that.

“Give me your phone,” he had said when he finished the call with Pilgrim 3.

“Why should I give you my phone?” said Nemo 7. “Why don’t you give me your phone?”

“Because I have the gun,” said Montag 5. “And because I know I’m not going to betray Pilgrim 3, but I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you—which, to be fair, is pretty damn far. Now give me your phone.”

Nemo 7 could see there was no use in arguing. He handed over his phone, and now he had no way to warn Richard what was happening. As he stood and stared at the front door, he heard heavy footfalls behind him. A woman was running up the front walkway toward him, white hair flying behind her. For a moment, Nemo 7 thought she was some sort of lunatic against whom he might need to protect himself. Then he recognized the face he had not seen in a decade. When she slowed her pace, Nemo 7 stepped off the porch to warn her of what awaited them inside the house.

“Who the hell are you?” said Vivian. “Get off my lawn.”

“Ardan 1, is that you?” Nemo 7 said. “It’s been so long.”

“Why are you using that name? And what are you doing at my house?”

“It’s me. Nemo 7. From the Paradox Club.”

“I don’t have time for the Paradox Club right now, my niece is—”