The Skin Of Our Teeth

The title of this entry comes from a re-reading Thornton Wilder's play, something very much in my mind after my experience of the last two weeks. As you may recall, I was invited (more coerced, actually) to take part in an ultra secret meeting stemming from the American professor Matilda Hatt and I had hurried out of Libya, along with his research findings. The operation was not without costs -- for me, a bullet in the thigh -- but was ultimately successful.

The research was contained in computer memory sticks. I had one, Tilly another, and my employer, Sir Harry, the third. It had become apparent that each stick comprised one-third of the data, and would be useless without being combined. Hence the meeting, and for security purposes, took place on a Trident submarine, Ohio class, submerged -- well, I never did find out.*

It is not in my power to give exact details of what the research illustrated, not so much for security reasons as it is for the simple fact that I had only a glimmer of understanding of what was under discussion. I am not exactly stupid, but there are limits.

Three physicists were in attendance: the professor we had zipped out of Libya, a second from Cambridge, and a third from China. Discussions centered around such terms as 'event horizon' 'black holes' 'anti-matter' 'string theory' and a slew of other terms that escaped me. Tilly, who has a certain way with members of the opposite sex, managed to at least get the gist of what the research was all about. We bunked together (a Trident is not exactly a four star hotel) and this gave us an opportunity to talk.

"How did you manage to get any of the boffins to open up?" I asked her. We were perched on our bunks in shorts and Tee shirts, submarines being a bit warmish.

"Oh," she replied, "they said nothing. But I got to know the Captain."

"No doubt in the Biblical sense," I replied wryly.

"Anything for my country. Besides, he's rather cute. Anyway, what there all rabbiting on about is a new energy source, something about combining matter and anti-matter."

"Tilly, even I know that would explode all over the place."

"Precisely. But the professor has worked out a possible way to contain the energy, and control it. At little cost. Available to all. The Chinese guy was particularly interested in this -- all those idiotic coal mines.

"The oil companies will love such a new source of energy.," I said.

"Not the boffins' problem. And the oil barons can always be co-opted. But that's not all. What has them really excited came about as a by-product to the research. Something to do with anti-matter and magnetism. In short, it may just be possible to bend space, as if you could take a flexible wire and bring the two ends close together. A flight to Mars in about the same time as it takes to go from New York to Rio."

"No shit."

"Mind you," Tilly continued, "the Captain told me the problems are immense, and resolving all the issues will take some time."

"Like about 500 years."

"You may be surprised."

It was then that Wilder's play surfaced in my mind. His thesis, that the human race comes extremely close to catastrophe before avoiding it, seems entirely apropos. Our energy needs were surpassing our ability to meet them. Something, somewhere, would give. Let us hope that again we can escape by 'the skin of our teeth'.

At this point we were informed that the meeting had drawn to a close. Good. I had had enough of close quarters. After signing yet another oath of secrecy, we headed for port.

Before we disembarked, the American professor, who looked somewhat drawn and tired, approached me, and thanked me for my part in the Libyan adventure.

I acknowledged this, then asked him what was next. His reply startled.

"Younger people can take it from here," he said. "I'm too old to be always at someone else's beck and call. Need a new job."

"Any thoughts?"

"Yes. A greeter at Wal-Mart. Then I can say forcefully, "TAKE THE DAMN CART!"

Rimshot.

* Somewhere near Carbis Bay, off the Cornish coast and not near any sea-lanes. The Captain was most helpful. -- Matilda Hatt