Chase Hatter's Origin of Pangaea

Chapter Eight

Andrew tapped open his Radio Cube and tossed it into the wooden basket on his bike. He listened to the interview as he rode through empty, wet streets in the direction of the television station. The closer he got to the station, the better his reception. During this time, Andrew caught a bit of Pamela Watson's interview.

"...we really can't do this, Mr. DeWitt." Pamela said. "I have a limited time slot. And it was really more of a closed-ended question or an icebreaker."

"I don't think you understand the weight of your question." Mr. DeWitt explained. "You want to know what it means to be a Pangaean, that's what you asked, is it not? So, you are insane to think that this is just another episode of your program. Beings of more intimidating character have asked me the same question and I have denied them an answer. Why? Because the answer was not clear. However, Miss Watson, I must say that you are devilishly talented at your job. You have summoned the perfect group of Pangaeans to make that distinction clear. For that, I propose you toss the rest of your questions in the trash and disassociate this interview from your show. We must be given an infinite amount of time if you ever hope to have a permanent description of your existence."

Andrew cut off his Radio Cube.

He had left the university with a general idea of where to go, however, the sudden spike in volume on the streets was enough to lead him directly to his destination. Andrew turned a corner and found the television station surrounded with journalists. He was disinterested in the commotion and eager to end his misery. He marched into the television station, but his eyes didn't even adjust to the sudden darkness before he was shoved out. He stumbled back, but retained his balance. A stagehand stepped out.

"Am I not allowed inside?" Andrew asked.

"Not during taping." The stagehand explained as he pointed to the red light shining bright beside the On Air sign. Andrew huffed and looked at his watch. The interview had been on for thirty minutes. Andrew was willing to wait the remainder of the time. He walked to a crate beside the door and sat on it. The stagehand seemed concerned.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"I can wait for the interview to be over." Andrew said.

"You'll be out here the entire time?"

"Three hours isn't long for my purposes."

"Didn't you hear?" The stagehand asked. "The interview is being extended."

"Well," Andrew began, "it won't take all day, will it?" The stagehand stared back at Andrew and cocked a brow. Andrew tapped open his Radio Cube.

"What's happening?" Pamela asked. Andrew could see Ethan and Elijah moving stage furniture across the screen. The journalist had kicked off her shoes and curled up in her chair at some point, seemingly nervous about the new developments taking place in front of her. Theo sat on the floor beside her chair and lit something for himself to smoke. Mr. DeWitt had disappeared.

"These things last a while." Theo explained to the journalist. "It's important to make the room aesthetically pleasing. Reduces stress."

"What about food?" Pamela asked. "If these things usually last a while, we should have food, right?"

"We have water." Theo said. Pamela seemed unsatisfied. Maybe he'd misheard her.

"What about food?"

"Now, now," Theo began, "we won't starve. This shouldn't take more than... nine days. Hell, I'd be surprised if it lasted seven. Most of what we're talkin' about has been proven already. We just need to... tie it all together."

"Seven days?" Pamela asked. "Mr. Sage, I've never participated in one so... complex. Maybe I could be excused and leave this to you four?" Theo shook his head.

"We already started."

"Fear not, Miss Watson!" Mr. DeWitt announced as he reappeared into the shot, carrying a case of water into their space. "I promise, you won't get hungry if your mind is focused on the task at hand."

Andrew tapped his Radio Cube closed. "Oh..." Andrew mumbled to himself. "They're recording a deductive proof."

"...Sorry." Said the stagehand.

"No one's fault." Andrew admitted. "If this is Professor Riley's plan for me, then it looks like I'm restarting my experiment."

Andrew stood from the crate and got back on his bike. There was nothing to do but pack. His lead was weak anyway. How could he expect Ethan and Elijah Grant to be able to help him when an entire department of professors would not? And this broadcasted deductive proof was sure to last for days. He was no stranger to them. His own research called for them often, even his current one. However, Pamela Watson's coverage of a deductive proof going on live was very different. Documents were usually written about them, but documentaries were not filmed.

Andrew returned home to retrieve the single duffle bag that he had packed. In the duffle bag he packed was a small, leather notebook, two changes of clothes, and a laptop. He hunched a rain jacket over his shoulders and got back on his bike to ride towards the bus stop. He tapped his Radio Cube open one last time. When he was out of Pangaea, the signal would die. He dropped the Radio Cube in his basket and watched through the rain. Since Andrew had last tuned in, the four interviewees had found a white board. On it, they outlined the flow of the discussion they intended to have.

"Now," Ethan Grant began as he produced a ruler from the sleeve of his lab coat, "if we first explore the theorem of complex conjugates coupled with the theorem of unique talents, we can then prove the theory of immortality and generate a formal definition of a Pangaean."

Elijah clapped. Mr. DeWitt and Theo were impressed enough to nod. Pamela was still petrified in her chair. Andrew's Radio Cube lost its signal. He was too far on the outskirts of Pangaea now.

Andrew stopped his bike at the bus stop and sat on the bench. Five o'clock was rolling around. The last bus out of Pangaea was coming. The last bus that would get him to his first destination on time. Andrew sat on the bench trying to rewrite his hypothesis, scribbling down draft after draft in his leather notebook. His past experiments were of no use to him now. Thousands of pieces of data all gone to waste. When he returned home, he'd have to redo them, call his participants back and see if they'd still be willing to indulge him.

The problem with his past hypothesis was subtle, but important. In his hypothesis, order mattered. On this trip, it would not.

As Andrew watched the bus come around the corner, he felt his wrist watch vibrate. A message from Adelyn.

"Watch your email. I'll record the interview for you."