Chapter 41

The sherbet had been in the freezer for only a few minutes when I was finally back down in the cavern behind the basement wall.

"time for something a little different," Bud told me as I stood in my usual spot. "Walk over to the far wall."

I walked in the direction I knew he meant and saw that here the wall bulged out slightly about four feet above the floor of the cavern, forming a shelf or bench of solid stone. On the bench I saw several slabs of different materials. The first was a dark yellow, material with a somewhat pebbled surface. Bud drew my attention to it.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Natural rubber," he told me. This piece is Vietnamese in origin, actually."

"I suppose this is my new point of focus?"

"It is, though we shall not devote long hours to the task as we did with the carborundum."

So I focused on the material, letting my new sense flow over it. It was harder to get a grip on than the silicon carbide, and felt different, though I had no idea how I would have been able to verbalize that difference. Still, after several long minutes I had a molecular lock.

"Tell me how this feels," Bud asked. I struggled with it in my head. "Bigger, smaller, heavier, lighter?"

"No, it doesn't feel different in those ways, it just feels ... clumsier."

"How about the edges," Bud asked. "Can you feel the edges?"

I moved my mental focus in the way I had learned with the silicon carbide, but the reaction was very much different. It took longer to find the edge I wanted, but when I did, it seemed to rush past me, leaving me jammed sideways into the next molecule.

I know that makes no sense. That's not even really what happened, but I can't put into words what did happen. Still, in the end I had two molecules locked.

"Natural rubber is an elastic hydrocarbon polymer," Bud lectured. "The molecules are much more complex than the silicon carbide molecules you've dealt with previously. They form long chains that easily tangle."

"Is that why they feel so clumsy?" I asked. Bud laughed.

"Time will tell," he said. "You will slowly become familiar with a greater and greater variety of molecules, and each will feel different. Each new impression will alter your past impressions. The description of any given molecule will be a moving target, and one that will never come to rest."

I spent a few minutes 'tasting' the polyisoprene molecule, as Bud also described it. He warned me that natural rubber had many impurities, and that my ability to link from edge to edge could be interrupted by encountering impurities. Finally Bud asked me to drop my focus and move on to the next slab of material. It was a dense-looking glossy black. I sent my senses into it and made a lock very quickly.

"This is Bakelite," Bud told me. "One of the worlds first synthetic plastics, called phenol plastics. Unlike the elastic hydrocarbon polymer, this is a very rigid phenolic thermosetting resin."

I was amazed at the difference I felt between this and the last. Grabbing this felt like sliding on rails, smooth yet hard and unforgiving. The edges felt cold compared to the edges of the carborundum or rubber. I also seemed capable of grabbing a lot of molecules very quickly – getting locks very easily, but all in a straight line. I described my impressions as I went, hearing Bud's approving murmurs as I did.

After moving back and forth between the rubber and Bakelite slabs a couple of times, Bud called it a night. I had cherry sherbet to test.

As I left the basement I diverted my course, heading for the garage. The Engel freezer had been delivered that afternoon and I'd gotten it unpacked and set up in the back of the Jeep, but currently had it plugged in to house current to get it down to temperature. West Marine had thrown in a small digital thermometer that could be placed inside the freezer for a quick readout of the temperature. When I flipped the lid up, the readout said 3 degrees. Perfect. I could store the sherbet in it now if I wanted, but I wasn't going to mess with that until the time came.

It was nine pm. I'd spent my day either making sherbet or playing with new molecules.

Darius had called me back with good news and bad news. The good news was that the houseboat did indeed have a freezer and regular house current and the bad news was that he was going to have to make a trip out there in advance of our arrival Saturday morning to plug the houseboat into shore power so that the fridge and freezer would have time to get their respective temperatures down to where they needed to be. I offered to go with him, having nothing better to do. It also would mean I would have a chance to familiarize myself with the route, just in case we were separated on Saturday.