Einstein in the Bath - A Short Story by @johnnedwill

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Einstein in the Bath

By johnnedwill


The wood-panelled bathroom was just like a sauna. Hot steam filled the air, only to condense on the cold surface of the mirror above the sink and roll downwards in fat droplets. Some of the steam collected in the tangle of white hair atop the head of the bathroom's sole occupant, plastering it flat against his scalp. It was bathtime for Albert Einstein.

Professor Einstein looked forward to his weekly bath. It was a time when he could relax and enjoy the sensation of weightlessness in his aged limbs. It was a time when he could be alone and forget the mundane world. Most of all, it was a time when he could think.

Thinking time was precious to Einstein. When he had been a humble clerk in the Swiss patent office, there had been plenty of time for him to ponder the mysteries of the universe. Indeed, there were some people who said that this had been the most brilliant and productive period of his life. If nothing else, it had laid the foundation for his entry into the ranks of academia. But, in exchange, Einstein found that his precious time was lost to more and more things - teaching, meetings, paperwork. In 1933, he had emigrated to the United States of America. For a while his fame bought him time for research, but celebrity brought responsibilities of a different kind. He was constantly bombarded by requests for interviews and stopped in the street by strangers. It was only here, in the privacy of his bathroom, that Albert Einstein had the time to truly think.

The old man took off his bathrobe and hung it from the hook on the back of the bathroom door. Then he climbed into the bath and slowly lowered himself into the steaming hot water. As the warmth dissolved the fatigue that burdened his limbs, Einstein relaxed and turned his thoughts towards science. He had been working on what he called his 'Grand Theory' - an idea that would be as revolutionary as his General Theory of Relativity. The blackboards in his office were covered in chalked symbols and equations, giving tantalising glimpses into the possible. But, so far, Einstein had not been able to penetrate the cloak that hid the truth from him. Perhaps tonight his meditations would afford him an insight?

"Hello, Albert."

Einstein stiffened at the unexpected interruption. The sudden motion sent waves racing through the bathwater. "Who? What?" he protested, and peered through the steam in search of the intruder.

The steam in front of him started to solidify. "That's it," the voice said. "Keep thinking about me." There was something about the voice - a hint of an accent that Einstein recognised.

"Bohr! Niels Bohr!" Einstein grabbed for his washcloth and draped it over his private parts. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to see you, of course," the Dane replied.

Einstein looked around the bathroom. The window was closed and the door was locked, its bolt slid into place. "How did you - ?" Then the elderly scientist stopped, a puzzled look on his face. "There are two things that occur to me. First, Niels Bohr is in Carlsberg. I know this for a fact. Second, the Niels Bohr I know is almost seventy. You look like he did when he was forty. From this, I can only conclude that you are not Doctor Bohr." Einstein pointed a finger at the intruder. "Which brings me back to my first question: who - or what - are you?"

Bohr - or the thing that resembled him - went to the bathroom sink and wiped away the film of moisture coating it. "Hmm," he mused. "An interesting question." He turned back to Einstein and smiled. "I am Niels Bohr. Or, rather, I am Niels Bohr as you remember him. I am your perception of him in his intellectual prime."

Einstein shifted uneasily in the bathwater. "You have not answered my question."

"I do apologise, Albert."

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