Nest of Worlds by Marek S. Huberath Page B

walk from here.” Zef had to wisecrack; it was his role.
    “It’s not personal,” said Gavein, smiling. “It’s scientific.”
    “Then chop away, man. I love scientific problems. Particularly if it’s physics.”
    The young man had been working on his leather jacket, Gavein noticed. There didn’t seem to be any more room for skulls, but somehow Zef always found a spot for another.
    “Here’s the problem, then,” Gavein said. “Ra Mahleiné told me about her voyage by sea. It appears that time on the ocean passes faster than it does in either Lavath or Davabel.”
    “How so?”
    “It was constant night, for one thing. On rare occasions the night would turn a black-blue, and without clouds in the sky. That may have been day. The women with good eyes could see airplanes overhead, not moving. Each seaplane was motionless at first, then accelerated as it descended, braking only on the water. I think that time goes faster at sea level than on land. What do you say to that?”
    “It sounds right. A guy by the name of Mill has calculated that equilibrium must be preserved, that is, if things slow down above us, below us they will speed up. In other words, Lavath and Davabel are connected only by a thin layer of real time, or common time, since both are at the same level. Determining the width of that layer is actually my homework assignment.”
    “How do we know there exists a layer of real time? How do we know that time in Lavath and Davabel is the same?”
    “I love the way you flex your cerebral biceps. No one else in this shanty does that,” said Zef admiringly.
    “All right, now it’s your turn.”
    “How can you stand the way he talks?” asked Ra Mahleiné with a groan.
    “He has no choice,” Gavein told her. “He’s wired that way.”
    “You could try ear mufflers,” advised Zef.
    “I’ll make myself a pair.”
    “To work, then. This is really not known,” said the young man, commencing. “A common layer of time appears to exist, because there is fairly good agreement among different clocks. But, you know, a pilot’s hand jerks, and say good-bye to the accuracy of time measurement taken on the plane.”
    “What about this speedup of time on the ocean? Doesn’t it contradict the common-layer idea?”
    “You’re caught in a froze.”
    “A what?”
    “A mental froze. Because it’s all beautifully logical.”
    “I’m afraid this froze won’t let go of me.”
    “The point is, why should the effect stop at the Earth’s surface? If time slows in the absence of mass, then it should speed up in its greater presence. Did you notice that the coast is a cliff of several hundred meters? How does one get to a boat? By elevator.”
    “I was never on the coast.”
    “Neither was I. But I read about it in a book.”
    “You’re right,” Ra Mahleiné chimed in. “The elevator drops through a tunnel in the rock. It goes fast, and it goes for a long time. You have to be careful not to put out your hand, because the railing is not high, and fifty, sixty people are packed inside. For the elevator back up, I had to wait a month. That was in addition to the quarantine.”
    “You see, Gavein?”
    “Miners far below the surface must get a lot accomplished,” Gavein said. It was not a brilliant observation.
    “Not necessarily. The deeper you descend into the Earth, the weaker the gravity. Calculate the gravitation of a spherical body, and you’ll see. At sufficient depth, there’s a play between the dependence of time on distance and the fall in the mass contributing to the gravitational force, and no one knows which of these wins out. So far in mines, even in the lowest, no appreciable change has been observed.”
    “In that case, why should the effect at the surface of the sea be stronger than it is beneath the ground at the same altitude?” Gavein asked, unconvinced.
    “Use integral calculus. Ever gnawed on that nut? The y-axis does funny things near the coast.” Zef wasn’t making too