The Compleat McAndrews

When Mary McAndrew left the Penrose Institute for the first time I would have bet good money that she would never return. Scientists like Plimpton and Monty Siclaro were all right for diversion, an occasional snack as it were, but not for her regular diet.

I would have lost. Mary showed up, one year to the day after her first visit, for the formal ceremony in which an award was made, posthumously, to Heinrich Grunewald for his part in the development of the Grunewald-McAndrew formalism for the modified strong interaction.

McAndrew had insisted that the names be listed in that order. He said that his own contribution, allowing a generator to amplify the strong field externally so that the equipment itself would not be destroyed, was minor. All the major insights for the theory had been provided by the late Heinrich Grunewald.

Mary sat quietly through the ceremony, though I don’t think it had most of her attention. She looked very serious and smiled only once, when McAndrew held up Heinrich Grunewald’s medal and citation for the visiting media to see. Her dress also seemed odd for the occasion. She wore a long black dress, with a single pearl pi

After the ceremony was over McAndrew to his disgust had to submit to questions and an interview — Institute Director Rumford was not willing to give up such a wonderful opportunity for favorable publicity. As McAndrew left, Mary came over to me.

She got right down to the point. “Do you think you could show me Heinrich’s remains? I want to pay my respects, but Artie refuses. He doesn’t seem to like the idea, even though it’s his own father.”

“I have to agree with him, I don’t think it’s wise.”

“Why not?”

“Well…”

“Look, I heard that Heinrich had some sort of accident, and was squashed real bad. But I’m a grown woman, I won’t turn hysterical on you or anything.”

I wasn’t so sure of that. On the other hand, it sounded unreasonable to refuse anyone’s request to see the remains of a loved one when a team from the Institute had trailed all the way out to the Asteroid Belt to recover the compressed matter asteroid, and as an incidental had brought back the Fafner plus Heinrich Grunewald and a couple of bits of McAndrew’s fingers.

“Come on,” I said.

I led the way from the auditorium, out along a rarely-used corridor to an a

Mary advanced and stared in through the curved window.

“Where is he?” She turned to me in bewilderment. “You don’t understand. I wanted to see Heinrich, no matter how bad he was mashed up in the accident. I don’t see anything in there at all.”

She had just sat through a series of explanations, especially simplified for the media, about the significance of the work done by Grunewald and McAndrew. The emphasis had been on the inexpensive creation of compressed matter and the successful recovery of the prototype experiment on strong force enhancement. Apparently Mary had understood not a word.

I intensified the light level and adjusted the angle of the beam, so that the speck of compressed matter appeared as a tiny bright-blue spark.

“There,” I said, “is Heinrich Grunewald.”

“That?” Mary stepped close to the window.

“That.” I resisted the urge to add, And most of what you see isn’t even him. He’s squeezed in there along with the Fafner and eighteen thousand tons of rock.

“Oh dear.” Mary pressed her nose to the glass. “That little fly-speck of stuff? Heinrich wouldn’t be pleased at all, not with him always going on about size — though I told him, over and over, it’s what you do with it that counts. Is there any way of bringing him back the way he used to be?”

“McAndrew’s working on it. He has ideas, but it’s too soon to say if they’ll work. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I don’t have that much to remember Heinrich by, and they don’t look like they’re doing anything for him up here. And it’s terribly lonely in this little room. So I was wondering, I don’t suppose I could take the whole thing down to Earth with me, could I, and look after him there?”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible. What you’re looking at is small, but it’s enormously dense. That little sphere with Heinrich’s remains weighs—” I caught myself in time. She’d wonder about eighteen thousand tons. I finished ” — a lot more than you’d think. There would be no way to stop it sinking right down to the center of the planet.”

“Oh dear. Then, no. I’m sure Heinrich would like it there even less than being up here.” She turned away. “They should have left him out where he was, among the stars. He’d have preferred that. I’m going to say goodbye to Artie, and then I’m leaving.”

I trailed along behind, waited while she had a private few minutes with McAndrew, and the three of us went along to the loading dock. She waved, and was gone.

Next day I was gone, too, on a routine delivery of a kernel assembly to Umbriel. I was away for a month. On the way back I dropped by the Institute, now free-orbiting beyond the Moon.

McAndrew was in his office. It was as crowded and cluttered as ever, with one important difference. Over in a clear corner sat a three-foot ball of glass. Within it sat the grain of compressed matter, and alongside that blue speck stood a small hologram of a smiling Mary McAndrew.

“Mac! I thought you told me the compressed matter was unstable. If it changes back to its original form—”

“It won’t.” The buds of his finger and thumb joints were already growing nicely. “I worked all that out when you left. It will stay like that as long as we want it to.”

“And you moved it in here.”

“Well, yes. My mother didn’t seem to like him being off by himself. I thought the two of them ought to be together.”

“Does she know about this?”

He looked surprised. “Why, no. Or if she does, I didn’t tell her.”

But I did. After McAndrew and I had agreed to meet for di

She listened in silence while I told her about the glass sphere and the hologram in McAndrew’s office. Then she said, “I still miss him, you know. Look after him, won’t you.”

She had mixed two different hims in one sentence, but I had no trouble sorting them out. “I’ll do my best,” I said. “But you know your son.”

“I do indeed. Just like his father. Come and see me, Jeanie. Fazool won’t mind. You and Artie both.”

“I will.”

“In fact, Fazool will probably make a pass at you.”

“I can stand that.”

“I hope Artie can. Goodbye, Jeanie. Look after him, and give him my love.”

“I will. Goodbye, Mary.”

We hung up. Look after him. I’d spent twenty years trying to look after McAndrew and it didn’t seem to be getting any easier.

I went to find the man to tell him that I had spoken with his mother and we needed to plan another visit to her.

McAndrew thinks he understands what the strong force is in the universe, and I wouldn’t dream of disagreeing with him. But Mary McAndrew and I, we know better.