Oddly, for a man who has made a fortune writing about supernatural things, Stephen was hesitant to fully swallow Margot’s claim that time does not exist in the tunnel. “Margot, are you one hundred percent certain that you came out of the tunnel the same time you went in?”

Loving the irony of the question, Lance pointed it out, “What? You believe there is a tunnel that can take you anywhere, in at least this world, but you can’t believe it is timeless?”

Back-footed, King said nothing, but Margot answered his question anyway, “Yes. One hundred percent. We even tested it once. We went inside, dropped acid, and didn’t come out until we were straight again, and it was the same time we went in. It was really good, super clean acid. Purple microdots. Every time we took it, it lasted at least eight hours.”

This confession seemed to stun the Staal brothers, for whom Jordan spoke, “Margot! You didn’t tell us you were an acid head.”

“There’s nothing new about mere mortals indulging in psychoactive substances to attain enlightenment,” Margot replied, with a grin. “That’s how we become gurus, nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more, say no more. That was an incredible trip, though. We brought a boombox with us, and listened to Pink Floyd the whole time. I used to think I was cool because I listened to Pink Floyd. Then I listened to them on acid, and actually understood what they were saying. It was a breakthrough. My boyfriend laughed, and told me I finally was cool. The fact that there was no time in the tunnel made perfect sense. But you know what made no sense?”

“Money,” was Kitty’s bet.

“Yes,” Margot confirmed, “Money made no sense, at all. Still doesn’t, in so many ways.”

“That’s because money is an artificial human construct. It is not at all tied to the laws of the universe,” Jordan said. “It’s an abstract that can be manipulated at will. Often with a great deal of will, of course, but money is not subject to the laws of nature, or the universe.”

Then Marc jumped in  to back up Margot’s claims, “What Margot is saying does make sense, if you understand something about quantum physics, or at the very least accept that theories being put forward by the best minds in the field are in the realm of possibility. Carlo Rovelli is the best known, and most eloquent thinker regarding what Margot is saying.”

Shockingly surprised that a puckhead would be talking about quantum physics, Stephen said, “I thought the three of you played junior, not NCAA.”

“So?” was Marc’s one word answer question. “As Mark Twain put it, ‘Never let you schooling interfere with your education.’ Or, in the case of the three of us, our lack of schooling. Just because we’re puckheads, doesn’t mean our brains are made of rubber. My thing is physics, Jordan’s is economics, and Eric’s is theology.”

“Yes, of course,” Stephen backtracked quickly. “Forgive my ignorance, and my ignorant assumption.”

“Ah, it’s okay, coach, we get it all the time,” Eric laughed.

Relieved, Stephen turned back to Marc, and said, “Sorry. Please continue. Carlo…”

“Rovelli. He had a bestseller, a couple years ago. The Order of Time, was the title. In it, and in subsequent lectures promoting the book, and his theories, he pointed out that time runs at different rates. It runs faster at higher elevations. This is all confirmed by GPS technology. Time runs at a different rate in space than it does down here. And even here, it runs faster on top of a mountain than it does at sea level. So, it could be that the tunnel, the timeless tunnel, if you will, runs so deep that time stands still, or moves so slowly that one of our years is a mere second inside it. And Rovelli is very open about the fact that he used to take LSD when he was young. In fact, he credits it with opening his mind enough to see things that others can’t. To imagine, and understand things that we are blind to. So, Margot, it’s not just the gurus who are indulging to attain enlightenment.”

“If Margot says the tunnel is a timeless tunnel, I believe her,” Eric the amateur theologian confessed.

Nodding, Lance said, “Me too. So, how do we get a team of scientists into the tunnel?”

Madonna had the answer, “I know what boys like… I know what guys want… I know what boys like… boys like…”


Madonna could not argue the point, so she conceded it, “It’s true. Boys like… boys want Kitty.”

“Okay, then, that decides it; we’ll go have a look at the boys in the Wuhan virology lab. I bet we can get inside, leave pics of Kitty everywhere, and get out before anyone sees us. She’ll be a Goddess to those lonely geeks overnight. Then, when she appears, they will follow her anywhere!”

Lance didn’t like the idea, but he bit his tongue. And gnawed on it.

“But there are bound to be girls working in the lab, too,” Stephen pointed out.

Kitty laughed, said, “That’s okay. Girls like me too,” then winked at Madonna.




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