Charlie Thorne and the Last Equation

by Stuart Gibbs

  The Hooker dome was locked, and no one answered when they knocked. But the CHARA control center sat close by, and when Dante banged on the door, a woman answered. She wore lots of flannel and an expression that said it had been a long time since she had encountered strangers up here. When Dante flashed his CIA badge and requested access to the Hooker dome for reasons of national security, the woman’s confusion didn’t lessen much. But she radioed the head of operations on the mountain, who agreed to come quickly.

  A few minutes later Tim Ralston hustled across the footbridge. He was dressed haphazardly, as he had just been roused from sleep, but was an otherwise hale and athletic man. He was in his early sixties and, despite having been woken, was in good spirits. An ebullient golden retriever, whom he introduced as Quark, followed at his heels.

  Upon seeing the CIA badges, Tim quickly agreed to help in any way he could. At Dante’s request, he unlocked the doors to the Hooker dome and led them inside.

  • • •

  As he started up the Angeles Crest Highway, Benny West called Leo Kolodny. Benny had met up with three other Mossad agents at the base and now they were all piled into one SUV. He gave Leo their location and asked what the situation was.

  Leo told them he was keeping an eye on the targets, who had no idea he had followed them. They were inside a big white dome. He had just started to describe how to get there from where he had parked when he gave sudden a gasp.

  And then Leo wasn’t there anymore.

  Benny called his name a few times but got no answer.

  Three seconds later, the line went dead.

  Benny turned to the guy who was driving and said, “Step on it. We’ve got trouble.”

  • • •

  John Russo could tell the man he had killed was Mossad. He had worked with enough of those guys in Israel to know the look. This guy had been out of action for a while—he was doughy in the middle and he had been caught unprepared for the weather—and yet he probably could have killed John in a fair fight. Even retired Mossad agents were tough as nails—and now more were coming.

  Charlie Thorne had led them here.

  The whole thing seemed impossible to John. The girl hadn’t merely memorized Einstein’s clue; she had figured it out as well—on her own, without the aid of Einstein’s notes. And then, not only had Charlie managed to get out of Israel; she had somehow managed to beat John here. With Dante and Milana in tow.

  John had planned this all so carefully. He had prepared for every eventuality. And yet Charlie Thorne was like a cockroach. You just couldn’t get rid of her. She escaped every trap he had laid. She solved every problem she faced. . . .

  But maybe there was a way John could use that to his advantage.

  The Mount Wilson complex was much larger than John had expected. He had assumed there would be only one telescope; instead, there were at least ten, along with dozens of other buildings. It could take days—or even weeks—to search the whole area. So why not let the girl genius do the hard work? If she was so smart, why not let her find the equation . . . ?

  And then John could simply take it.

  Yes, John thought, as he dragged Leo’s body into the bushes. That would work. In fact, maybe it was a blessing that Charlie Thorne was here after all.

  FORTY-EIGHT

  The dark sphere of the Hooker dome was dominated by the telescope, a fifty-foot-tall shaft of gleaming blue steel mounted on a massive rotating pedestal. It was the same telescope Edwin Hubble had used to unlock the secrets of the universe, the same one Einstein had gazed at the cosmos through, although it had been upgraded over the years and was now surrounded by banks of relatively new computers.

  Except for a few lights down on the operating floor, the rest of the dome was dark. For Charlie, it was easy to imagine that she was actually out in space, the Hooker looking like an interplanetary capsule and the twinkling lights of the computer consoles like stars.

  The building was huge, much bigger than Charlie had anticipated; there were thousands of places Einstein could have hidden the equation. Charlie’s mind raced, trying to narrow her search. She pointed to all the equipment and asked Tim Ralston, “How much of this was here in 1931?”

  “1931?” Tim repeated. “That’s awfully specific.”

  “Thereabouts, then.”

  Tim scratched Quark behind the ears as he thought. “Not too much, I’d bet. The scope is the same, but everything else has been modernized so many times I’d doubt any of this is original. This entire apparatus used to be controlled with weights and pulleys. And the computers are all post-1931, of course.”

  Charlie nodded, understanding. The first computer, ENIAC, hadn’t been completed until 1946, and it had taken up an entire room—even though it had less computing power than Charlie’s phone, or the electronic key for the SUV she had come here in.

  Charlie struck the metal floor of the dome with her foot. It echoed. “There’s a room underneath us?”

  “To hold all the operating machinery for the telescope,” Tim answered. “I hate to pry, but it’d be a lot easier if you just told me what you’re looking for.”

  Charlie turned to Dante, who shook his head. Charlie leaned in close to him and whispered, “The guy has a point. He must know this place backward and forward. Without him, it could take a lot of time to find Pandora—and we don’t have much of that right now.”

  Dante sighed, then turned to Tim and quickly explained Pandora.

  The astronomer was skeptical at first, but he grew more and more intrigued as the story went on. “And you believe Einstein hid this equation here?” he asked.

  “We have very good reason to believe so,” Charlie replied.

  “What?”

  “A clue Einstein left.”

  “And he said Pandora’s in this dome?” Tim asked. “Because I’ve spent an awful lot of time in here over the years. I know every nook and cranny of this place, and I’ve never seen anything like that.”

  “Well, he didn’t say it was in the dome, per se,” Charlie said. “He says it’s ‘under Neptune’s optics.’ And since Hubble used this telescope to see Neptune . . .”

  “He did. But that was the least of what Hubble accomplished here. This telescope was really built to look way the heck beyond Neptune.”

  “We know. But I figured Einstein was taking a bit of poetic license. . . .” Charlie trailed off, realizing Tim had a point. Now, standing in the shadow of the Hooker, her conclusions suddenly seemed wrong. There would have been many other ways to refer to the telescope. Einstein’s code was limited in what words could be formed, but still, why would he choose Neptune? In 1931, the planet would have been old news astronomically; its existence had been known of since 1846. The real sensation would have been Pluto, which had been discovered only the year before.

  “Were any of the other telescopes at Mount Wilson ever used for planetary studies?” Charlie asked.

  “Not really,” Tim said. “This was primarily designed to be a solar and stellar observatory. I know people have looked at Neptune on occasion, but that was usually more for fun than research. The truth is, Neptune’s not a very interesting planet. It looks like a little blue ball. Jupiter and Saturn are far more dynamic. . . .”

  Charlie’s eyes suddenly lit up with inspiration. “Oh,” she said.

  Then she ran to the door. The others followed her.

  “What are you thinking?” Milana asked.

  Charlie said, “I don’t think Einstein meant the planet Neptune. He meant the God the planet was named after: Neptune, who ruled the water.” She exited the telescope dome and headed toward the snow-covered reservoir.

  “You think it’s in there?” Dante asked.

  “Maybe,” Charlie said. “Think about it: Einstein said the equation was beneath ‘Neptune’s optics.’ Telescopes aren’t optics. They hold optics. The optics are the pieces that manipulate the light: the lenses and reflectors. And the biggest reflector at this observatory is that.” Charlie pointed dramatica
lly at the reservoir, then turned to Tim. “Was that here in 1931?”

  “It was just being built when Einstein visited,” Tim replied. “In fact, they even had a little ceremony where Einstein laid the cornerstone for the pump house.”

  Charlie’s heart rate suddenly sped up with excitement. She shifted her attention downhill to the pump house. Einstein had said Pandora was beneath Neptune’s optics—and the cinder-block hut was certainly below the reservoir.

  Charlie ran toward it. The others were right behind her.

  “Einstein laid the cornerstone?” Charlie repeated.

  “I think the whole event was done in jest,” Tim explained. “From what I’ve heard, the pump house was under construction and Hubble suggested that since Einstein had come all the way from Europe, he might as well do some work. So Einstein set the first block. There’s even a little plaque for it.”

  They slid down into the gully below the reservoir, furrowing trenches in the snow.

  Charlie reached the pump house first. She dug into the snow at the base of the tiny building, revealing a small bronze plaque bolted to the lowest cinder block. It was haphazardly engraved, as though a couple of renowned scientists had made it on a lark: ON THIS SPOT IN JANUARY 1931, ALBERT EINSTEIN DID HEREBY LAY THIS CORNERSTONE.

  “Is there a sledgehammer nearby?” Dante asked.

  “In the maintenance shack,” Tim said. He ran to get it, Quark loping along beside him, and was back within two minutes, brimming with excitement. “I can’t believe it,” he said. “I must have passed this pump house a million times and the equation might have been here all along.”

  “We’re about to find out.” Dante took aim at the cornerstone and swung the sledge like a golf club. His first shot shattered the concrete, revealing the inner hollow of the cinder block.

  Milana reached inside and gasped with excitement. Then she withdrew a small metal case the size a watch would have come in.

  “Pandora’s box,” Charlie said reverently.

  Einstein had obviously paid a great deal of attention to its construction. It was made of metal, small and light enough to carry around while waiting for the perfect hiding place to present itself, yet strong enough to protect its contents for decades. There wasn’t a trace of rust or corrosion. It still looked as though it were brand-new.

  There was no latch. Instead, ten code wheels were set into the lid, each with the numbers 0–9. Above them, a message had been etched into the metal:

  Perhaps you have come looking for this—but perhaps chance has brought you here. Thus I offer a final challenge: A vial of pure cesium rests in this box. If you enter the wrong number or try to force the box open, the vial will crack. Once the cesium is exposed to air, it will ignite, destroying the treasure within.

  “You have to be kidding.” Dante sighed. “Another code to crack?”

  A hundred yards away, in the direction of the access road, a flock of birds suddenly took to the air, as though they’d been startled. Dante and Milana both tensed, their hands moving to their guns.

  “What’s wrong?” Tim asked.

  “Probably nothing,” Dante said. “But I’m going to make sure. You guys figure this out.” He climbed out of the gully and headed off to see what had startled the birds.

  Milana returned her attention to the box. “ ‘Figure this out,’ he says. How? There must be a billion possible combinations for this.”

  “Several billion, actually,” Tim corrected.

  “Well, why not?” Charlie asked. “As perfect as this hiding place was, Einstein still couldn’t guarantee some random person wouldn’t stumble upon it. Therefore, he would want to make sure that only someone he’d sent knew how to open the box.”

  Milana stared at Charlie a moment, then smiled. “You little jerk. You already know the combination, don’t you?”

  “Of course. Einstein gave it to us.”

  Milana considered that a moment and then understood. “The clue. It’s also an equation after all.”

  Charlie nodded. She had already done the math in her head. If she counted the variables as the Roman numerals they represented, then:

  Ten digits long.

  “You’re positive you know the right answer?” Milana asked.

  “Yes.”

  “So why aren’t you opening the box?”

  Charlie took a deep breath and said, “When Pandora opened the box in the myth, a lot of bad things happened to the world. Maybe it’s better to just enter the wrong code and destroy this.”

  “Maybe, but I know you won’t.”

  Charlie gave Milana a challenging stare. “How do you know what I’ll do? You barely know me at all.”

  “I know you enough. You chose the code name ‘Prometheus’ for yourself. Dante thought it was because you imagined yourself an honorable thief, like Prometheus was, but I think there was another reason.”

  Charlie’s stare softened and became something more like respect.

  “Prometheus was punished for stealing fire from the gods by having an eagle tear out his liver every day,” Milana explained, “but Jupiter decided that still wasn’t bad enough. So he came up with a really cruel way to make Prometheus suffer: He created women. Pandora was the first, and Jupiter assigned Prometheus to watch over her. To keep her safe. You imagined yourself as Pandora’s protector, Charlie. And you can still be. It doesn’t have to be the Furies that come out of that box. Hope can emerge as well.”

  Charlie smiled. Milana had been right about her. She couldn’t bring herself to destroy something Einstein had created. She wanted to see it. To protect it. Besides, hope was in the box. She simply had to be careful with the contents.

  Charlie slowly rotated the code wheels into position, mentally checking and rechecking the solution to Einstein’s equation in her mind.

  As the last wheel locked, she felt an almost imperceptible shift inside the box, as though something had just clicked into place.

  Charlie lifted the lid.

  The vial of cesium rose with it, intact.

  Beneath it lay a small envelope. The metal box had been so well constructed the paper had suffered no exposure to the elements. It looked as though it had been placed inside only the day before.

  Charlie gingerly removed the envelope, realizing with awe that the last person who had touched it was Einstein himself.

  Before Charlie could open it, however, a voice broke the silence.

  “Give it to me.”

  Charlie looked up and found herself staring down the barrel of a gun.

  Agent Milana Moon had it pointed right between her eyes.

  FORTY-NINE

  Charlie’s mind was racing. She wondered what enemy faction Milana was working for and how she could have possibly switched sides, but then she realized that was wrong.

  Milana was still CIA.

  That morning, when she had claimed that it might be a mistake to turn Pandora over to the government, it had merely been a ruse to win Charlie’s trust. Maybe Milana and Dante had schemed to play good cop/bad cop long before that. Or maybe she was acting on her own. Whatever the case, Charlie had taken the bait.

  “The CIA turned its back on you,” Charlie said angrily. “They turned you over to the Mossad because they thought you were a traitor.”

  “That doesn’t mean I should stop trying to be a good agent. I have orders straight from the director of the CIA herself. Now hand over the envelope.”

  A few feet away, Tim Ralston watched Milana and Charlie’s face-off, frozen in fear. Quark still sat by his side, tail wagging, blissfully unaware of the tension.

  Charlie slowly held the envelope out.

  Milana reached for it.

  Charlie dropped Pandora’s box.

  It struck the ground at Milana’s feet and the glass vial shattered, allowing the cesium to contact the air.

  As Einstein had warned, cesium was a highly combustible element.

  The explosion was strong enough to knock everyone off their feet. Milana and
Charlie were thrown backward into the gully.

  Just as John Russo opened fire on them.

  • • •

  John had been aiming for Milana. Even though Charlie was the one who had caused him so much trouble, Milana had the gun and knew how to use it. Once he had taken care of her, he could pick off Charlie and the old man with ease.

  But the explosion had saved Milana’s life. She had been thrown out of the path of the bullets—and the sudden flash of light had flared so brightly it left John momentarily blinded. By the time he regained his vision, Milana and Charlie were no longer within his line of sight; both had fallen into the snow at the bottom of the gully.

  John bolted from his hiding place, moving to better ground.

  And then he saw the Israelis.

  • • •

  At first Benny West had assumed it was the CIA that had killed Leo, but when he reached the landslide on the road to the observatory and found three cars parked there, he realized someone else was in the mix too. Now Benny’s unit had two missions: retrieve the equation Isaac Semel wanted—and avenge Leo’s death. His small army was coming in locked and loaded, ready for battle.

  The six men moved through the observatory complex in a line, making sure no one slipped past. They had cut off access to the road, leaving no way out.

  The clouds were thick, but the air was still; the Mossad agents had heard Charlie and Milana long before they saw them. Then there was the flash of the explosion, and as the Mossad closed in, they spotted John, who opened fire on them and ran.

  • • •

  Dante, slinking through the telescope complex, had seen the Mossad. But he hadn’t taken a shot at them for a few reasons: They outnumbered him, he had little ammunition, and it went against his code to shoot anyone who hadn’t proved to be his enemy.

  But somehow John Russo had gotten past him in the fog.

  Dante had been trying to formulate a plan when the cesium exploded. And then John had started shooting.

  Dante forgot all about the Mossad and started running back toward where he had left Charlie, knowing that one way or another she was in serious danger.