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Authors: Irving Belateche

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BOOK: Einstein's Secret
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“I can wait a little longer,” I told Eddie.

“It’s not just up to you.”

“I think it is.” I was ready to end this and head into the orientation meeting.

“You won’t think that anymore if you sit down and talk me.”

“I have to go.” I turned back to Old Cabell Hall. I was desperate for a new clue, but getting my career back on track had to be my top priority.

“Check this out,” Eddie said.

I turned back around, and he reached into his backpack and pulled out an issue of
Fame
.
That
issue of
Fame
.

My mind went blank for a second and my chest tightened. The sight of a stranger holding up this obscure magazine was jarring. It was impossible that he knew this much about me. Not only did no one know the major role this gossip rag had played in my quest, but the magazine had gone out of business in 1955. The issue that Eddie was wielding, with its glossy cover photo of Einstein, had been its last, and, except for the issue that I had, I’d never found another copy.

“How’d you know about
Fame
?” I finally managed to croak out.

“I connected the dots.”

That made me nervous. He couldn’t possibly have meant he’d connected
all
the dots. “Which dots?” I said.

“All of them.”

I skipped orientation, and he led me over to
Greenley’s
, a coffee shop located in the heart of
the Corner
, a seven-block section of Charlottesville just across from campus, made up of bookstores, restaurants, and boutiques.

We each got coffees, no fancy frappes or lattes, just the straight stuff, my preference and apparently Eddie’s, too, which made me think he might turn out to be okay.

He launched right in. “You think that Einstein was hiding something about one of his theories, right?”

“One dot down.”

“You think that he found a flaw in one of his theories, but didn’t want to cop to it.”

“That’s right.”

“And finally, at the very last minute, he did the right thing.”

“Yeah—But I don’t have the evidence to really prove that. So

no one believes me.”

Eddie grinned. “Maybe they don’t believe you because they know you’re lying.”

“What do you mean I’m lying?” I tried to sound insulted, but I wasn’t. He
was
connecting all the dots.

“What you really believe is that Einstein discovered a new theory or some new scientific principle.”

He was right. That was exactly what I believed. But I had never admitted that to anyone and I wasn’t ready to admit it to him.

“But you tell people Einstein was ready to confess to an error in one of his earlier theories because it’s easier for people to swallow that.”

Now I was the one who was grinning.

“And you believe the reason Einstein didn’t share this new theory with anyone was that he didn’t have the mathematical proof he needed to convince anyone it was true. It was something he’d observed in reality or in one of his famous thought experiments, but couldn’t prove.”

I had to jump in. This was my baby after all. “It was something he’d observed. Not something from a thought experiment.”

“You know that for sure?”

“It’s just another dot.”

“I think it’s something he’d observed, too.”

“So why didn’t he just tell someone?” I had my own answer to that question, but I wanted to hear his.

“Well, that’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” He looked over to the other end of the coffee shop, and I followed his gaze and found Professor Benjamin McKenzie staring back at me.

I smiled at my new boss. He forced a smile back, then turned to the counter to wait for his coffee.

“Looks like you’ve been caught fraternizing with the enemy,” Eddie said.

“Your exit from the program was that bad?”

“No, but my last words with McKenzie were.” He looked over at McKenzie and we both watched the department chair grab his coffee and head out.

Eddie turned back to me. “I might be able to help you find out what Einstein wrote down that night.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“You know I’m not.”

“What have you got?”

“A clue of my own.”

“What is it?

“If you help me, I’ll share it with you.”

Without knowing anything about the guy, it seemed crazy to commit to helping him. I wanted to talk to Alex first. After all, it must’ve been Alex who’d told him about my fixation on Einstein’s secret. “Let me think about it.”

“Okay,” he said, and it was a confident “okay,” as if he knew I couldn’t resist pursuing any and all leads.

“So what kind of memorabilia do you collect?” I asked, hoping his answer might hint at what he’d found.

“Collect and sell. That’s how the lucrative part works, thanks to Eddie’s Emporium.”

“Eddie’s Emporium?”

“My eBay store: your destination for fifties memorabilia. Magazines, records, toys, sports programs, photos, movie posters, et cetera.”

“Why do I have the feeling that I’d be most interested in the et cetera?”

“Because that’s the best part of Eddie’s Emporium. It’s a collection of rare historical documents from the fifties. Letters and notes written by the famous and infamous. Public records that fell through the cracks of history. Any kind of documents that might have some historical value.”

“So your history degree came in handy after all.”

“Not as handy as the MS I’m working on in Computer Science. That’s how I learned to mine the Internet for documents.”

That was impressive and piqued my curiosity even more. What had he uncovered about Einstein’s secret that I’d missed?

We talked a little more, mostly about the history department and how it was a political minefield, then he gave me his number and said to call him if I decided to take him up on his offer.

Chapter Two

I wanted to call Alex immediately, but restrained myself. This was a fresh start. A start where Einstein wasn’t supposed to be a priority. So instead of punching Alex’s number into my iPhone, I walked over to the Iliad Bookstore to pick up copies of my class handouts. Alex had recommended the Iliad, so I’d forwarded them PDFs of all my material before moving to Charlottesville.

Behind the counter, a woman in her late twenties was immersed in a book. Her short red hair swung down over one of her cheeks and even though she didn’t glance up as I approached, I could still see that she was beautiful.

“Hi,” I said.

She looked up and her hazel eyes completed the picture. “What can I help you with?”

“I’d like to pick up copies of my class handouts.”

“Which class?”

“HIUS 5055.”

Her jaw tightened, as if I’d made her angry. “So you’re the lucky winner.”

“Winner?”

“You got the job. You’re Alex’s college buddy.”

She radiated hostility, and it took me a second to understand why. “You were up for the job?”

“Are you questioning my qualifications?”

“No—That’s not what I meant. I—meant that Alex should have said something to me when he recommended the Iliad.”

“Why? It’s not his fault I didn’t get the job.”

She said it like it was
my
fault, and I was at a loss for words.

She got up and started toward the back of the store. “Now that the cat’s out of the bag, I’ll get your class materials.”

I wanted to smooth this over, and tried to come up with something to say. I hadn’t thought of anything by the time she returned.

She plopped a box loaded with my handouts down on the counter.

“Did you go to grad school here?” I said. It was the best I could do.

“Is that so hard for you to believe?” She rang up my tab. “Seventy-four fifty.”

I handed her my credit card. “Do you want me to resign?”

She almost cracked a smile. “Won’t do much good. I’m sure I’m not next in line.”

“But classes start in two days and you’re available.”

She handed me back my credit card. “If Alex recommended you, you must have something going for you.”

“Or I know a secret about his sordid past.”

“Are we talking about the same Alex?”

“So you know him that well, huh?”

“Mr. Squeaky Clean,” she said. “No wonder he wrote a bestseller, huh? He never left his study carrel during grad school, and he kept it as a professor.”

“He was the same in college. He spent every waking minute either studying, researching, or reading.”

“Were you the same way? Is that how you got the appointment?”

“Nope. I got lucky.”

It looked like she was about to break into that smile, but the phone rang, interrupting what might have been.

She answered the phone. “The Iliad. This is Laura.” She listened for a few seconds, then said, “I’ll check,” and turned to her computer terminal.

I grabbed the box, weighed whether to say more, then headed out. At least I’d ended the conversation on a good note, and picked up her name—
Laura
—as a bonus prize.

“Hey! You forgot your receipt,” she said. “The department is a stickler.”

I walked back to the counter and she handed me the receipt.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get the job,” I said.

“Yeah, me too. You know how it is out there for PhDs. I’d kill for that job.”

“I’ll watch my back.”

The full smile finally appeared. “Good plan,” she said, then picked up the phone and began to list the various editions of
The Stranger
to the caller on the other end.

As I headed out, I couldn’t help but look back over my shoulder. She glanced up at me, and before she looked back down at her computer terminal, I thought I glimpsed approval in her hazel eyes.

*

During the drive back to my apartment, she was on my mind. And I tried to keep her on my mind when I walked into my apartment. Otherwise, I’d go back to thinking about Eddie and Einstein.

I couldn’t do it. Einstein beckoned.

I called Alex, who was in New York, conducting interviews for his next biography.

“Why are you asking me about Eddie Bellington?” he asked.

“He said he knows something about Einstein’s secret.”

“Jesus Christ! You said you were giving that a rest.”

“I am. Just fill me in on Eddie.”

“My advice is to focus on UVA this year. Eddie will always be there. He isn’t going anywhere.”

“You don’t actually think he found something, do you?”

“Listen, McKenzie hates him, and you don’t want McKenzie thinking that you’re somehow mixed up with him.”

“Then you’re not going to like this—I bungled that already.”

“What? How’s that even possible? You’ve only been there a couple of days.”

“Just bad luck. McKenzie saw me at a coffee shop with him.”

“Doesn’t sound like bad luck. The guy roped you into talking to him.”

“Will you at least tell me his story?”

I heard an exasperated sigh.

“Here’s the synopsis. He was in the program for years, a brilliant researcher, but not so hot on coherent synthesis. McKenzie gave him one extension, but wouldn’t approve another one. Eddie’s side business didn’t help his cause either.”

“The fifties memorabilia.”

“That part was kosher. It was the documents and records. The things with historical value.”

“He thinks Eddie’s a commercial archeologist.”

“And he’s right.”

So McKenzie spotting me with Eddie was worse than I’d thought. Commercial archeologists were disdained by academia. They were considered crass treasure hunters who sold their finds to the highest bidder rather than donating them to research institutions or museums.

“But what McKenzie didn’t like the most about that,” Alex said, “was that Eddie was good at it. He helped me out with my research a couple of times when I first got to Charlottesville, so I learned the hard way.”

“McKenzie put you in the doghouse?”

“I got away from Eddie in the nick of time. Barely. You need to avoid the guy.”

“Alex, was it worth it?”

“What do you mean?”

“His research. Did it help you?”

Alex hesitated before answering, and that was all I needed to know. Eddie’s research had been worth it, and that meant he might’ve found a clue about Einstein’s secret.

“He’s a nut,” Alex said, but it was too late. His hesitation had been the true answer. “You’re not there for Einstein. You’re there to make up for lost time. Secure your position with the department and try to turn it into a longer gig. We talked about that. That’s the whole point. Don’t get involved with this guy.”

“You’re right,” I said, but thought,
one conversation with the guy isn’t going to derail my year.

We exchanged goodbyes, and just as I was about to call Eddie, my phone rang. It was the history department’s administrative assistant. “Professor McKenzie would like to set up a meeting with you in the morning,” she said. “Are you available at ten?”

My first thought was paranoid and reactionary. Alex’s warning had been right. Eddie was trouble, and the trouble had already started. McKenzie was meting out punishment.

I told the assistant I’d be there, then tried to come up with a less paranoid scenario. McKenzie just wanted to ask me to serve on a faculty committee where he was shorthanded. Still, the pending meeting put me on notice, and my call to Eddie was put on hold. Hopefully permanently, but I couldn’t promise myself that.

I didn’t have much planned for the rest of the day. Grocery shopping and my daily Internet search for new information about Einstein’s last year. I considered adding a trip to the Iliad to ask Laura out, but that’d be coming on too strong, too soon.

The prep for my classes was done. One class was an American history survey course, similar to another class I’d taught when I’d been lucky enough to land an adjunct position right out of graduate school. The other was a history of science course, the type of course I would’ve loved to have taught year in and year out.

I did my Internet search first. For the last six years this was a daily routine, and every once in a great while, some new fact would turn up or another fact would get confirmed. But usually months would go by with nothing.

BOOK: Einstein's Secret
9.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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