CHAPTER ONE  

“A body continues in its state of constant velocity (which may be zero) unless it is acted upon by an external force.”             — Newton's first law of motion 

The realization of what he’d done made him rush to the toilet. Gunnar just needed to throw up, but turning quickly from the bathroom mirror had made him dizzy. Before he could open the lid, he wobbled and his knees felt like mere hinges with no muscles. He desperately tried to find something to hold onto. His arms flailed. He felt himself fall back. Falling. Falling. And bang. His head must have hit the toilet, but he didn’t feel any pain.

His panic evaporated for a second. He stared at the ceiling and wondered why things didn’t hurt. Must be the pills. There was a hammering at the door, and a deep male voice shouted something odd, a language he didn’t understand.

Gunnar tried to say something, but his voice didn’t work. Got to get that fixed. Then his terror returned. He reached to touch his head, and it was an effort. There was wetness. Blood. He was bleeding, right onto the white tile floor. Blood, Gunnar remembered, was something everyone needed. It’s supposed to stay in your body. He felt so tired. Maybe this is what he deserved. She was gone. Maybe he could just get away in sleep. If only he could get some sleep. He closed his eyes.

The door crashed open and there were footsteps, Don’t step on me, don’t step on me, he thought, and he felt hands on his shoulders. His name was shouted, which he recognized. Something’s deeply wrong, he now knew. Am I dying? Shouts, a male and a female voice in words he didn’t understand, swirled around him, and he felt ashamed. Soon there were the sounds of an ambulance screaming as they do in those European movies, Do-Dee, Do Dee. There was such concern in the voices, and someone was crying. Am I dying? Don't I want to? I can't bring her back.

* * *

Four months earlier, Gunnar Gunderson had raced from his office on the University of Wisconsin Madison campus, late to see Wiggins, his boss, the department chair of the physics department. Gunnar always thought keeping a low-profile best—don’t fraternize with your boss if you don’t have to. Besides, the guy seemed like a big groundhog, a burly gray-haired man with a white mustache. Outside of Gunnar’s anxiety, if he’d been asked if he was happy then, he would have said yes. He was researching the ultracold, trying to reach Absolute Zero. He and his team were in a race to make a certain kind of matter called a Bose-Einstein condensate, which happens only near absolute zero, and his career in part depended on it. 

The meeting with the department chair was on a Monday, and Gunnar hoped Wiggins was also late. Gunnar didn’t know that rushing to this meeting would become the first falling domino to lead him to the bathroom floor—but there were many steps ahead and things he might do to miss the bathroom floor. Some people, strict determinists, might say that our first breath in the world sets up all that follows. Others talk about destiny. Still others argue free will. Gunnar didn't particularly like philosophy. It was too imprecise. Science was better, and he was happy with his science. He just had to see Wiggins.

He stepped out of the physics building and heard a scream. It may have emanated from under the stairs by the bushes. Was someone being mugged? He shouted, “Hey.” He now heard groans. “Stop!” He ran down the stairs and around onto the lawn. “I’m calling security!” He pulled out his cell phone from his pocket.

 There in the shadows under the stairs two people wrestled. As his eyes quickly adjusted, though, he realized that he’d made a mistake.