The Fourth Law

by Paul Stein

  At three miles, the road became even steeper. It didn’t make much sense to proceed further, but still Ryan persisted, holding his resolve to drive to the top of the mountain.

  At four miles from the campsite, the road split into two directions. The men jumped from the truck to see if they could find any tracks. There were small animal prints that looked like a dog. The discovery buoyed their spirits. Against incredible odds, the prints appeared to be from Jake’s little dog, Minnie. The tracks bore to the left and the men hurried to the truck to resume their search.

  At just under the five-mile mark, as they approached the Pecos wilderness summit, Ryan beheld one of the most beautiful sights his eyes had ever seen. There, sitting by the side of the road in his dusty blue coat and red ball cap, was Jacob, Minnie by his side. Ryan jumped from the truck and raced toward him, lifting him up, embracing him, and saying: “Thank you, God. Thank you. Thank you for giving him back to me.”

  Jacob replied, “Dad, you’re squeezing me too hard. How come you left me so long? Me and Minnie are pooped.”

  It was the happiest moment of Ryan’s life. He forever believed that God answered his solitary prayer, allowing him more time with Jacob. There was no other way to explain how he magically appeared at the top of Pecos Mountain. He would never believe this was anything other than a miracle.

  Ryan and Roman made a triumphant return to camp with Jacob. As he drove the last quarter-mile, he began blasting the horn to attract everyone’s attention. He came fishtailing to a stop in a cloud of dust, stepping from the truck with Jacob held high over his head for all to see. There arose a great shout from the nearly 100 searchers and campers that had joined in the search, each setting eyes on Jacob for the first time. Sarah broke down, sobbing as Ryan returned him to her waiting arms.

  These were the bittersweet memories that fueled Ryan’s sorrow for losing Sarah’s love and loyalty. But this particular memory reminded him of the intercessory power and benevolence of God. He would always believe that God answered his prayers, granting him another ten years before finally taking Jake to heaven. In those ten years, Jacob became Ryan’s mentor, which he realized only after he had passed away. Throughout Ryan’s formative years, he had prayed for patience, courage, and wisdom. God answered this prayer by putting Jacob into his life. Ryan came to realize that these human qualities were not merely granted but had to be earned. Little did he know that by asking for these attributes, he would be presented with situations that required him to develop the characteristics of courage, patience, and wisdom.

  There was no more courageous person than Jacob. He was embarrassed by his appearance, especially when he entered high school. By then his body was completely emaciated, twisted by scoliosis, and he could barely lift his arms. Yet he summoned the courage to ask a girl out on a date, suffering the indignity of her rejection. With incredible courage, he attended every school assembly, sitting as close to his classmates as possible. One could only imagine the courage it took to let people attend to him in the bathroom, with all the humiliation this entailed. Courage was a strong suit for Jacob, one that Ryan tried to emulate throughout his life.

  Similarly, patience was an attribute that Ryan learned from Jacob. He could sit for hours without moving while watching Ryan’s construction crew erect a building or move heavy equipment. He recalled one particularly vivid memory on the job when Jacob stuck his wheelchair in the sand. No one recognized that he was stuck for an extended period of time. But rather than continue spinning his wheels, digging deeper into the ground, Jake remained calm, waiting for help. He was so calm, in fact, that he folded his hands across his chest and proceeded to take a nap. This provided a powerful metaphor for Ryan; many times he felt stuck, hopelessly spinning his wheels, when the most prudent decision was to sit patiently until help arrived.

  The power Ryan sought through his mantra—the qualities of patience, courage, and wisdom—still eluded him. But he knew that he was much wiser from the sixteen years of care he gave Jacob. His constant hope was that this patience and wisdom would ameliorate the estrangement that had developed between Jeremiah and himself.

  Ryan believed that Jeremiah never recovered from the loss of his twin brother. He was a normal, healthy boy and clearly received different treatment than his handicapped brother, but somehow this differentiation affected Jeremiah’s outlook on life. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel worthy of happiness, but he definitely had a survivor’s complex, feeling guilty about being born healthy while his twin brother had been stricken with an incurable disease. As Jeremiah grew older, the trauma of losing his brother resulted in low self-esteem, making it difficult to bond with other people. He had few friends, except for his mother, and preferred to be a loner.

  When Ryan and Sarah separated, Jer naturally sided with his mother. Ryan couldn’t fault him for this. Jer never understood the cause of the divorce, only that it somehow involved Jarrod. But Jer was just as unforgiving as Sarah. This drove a deep wedge between them that Ryan did not know how to remedy. Jer remained emotionally distant and took no pride in being Ryan’s son, which was a source of bitter disappointment.

  Ryan refused to admit that his relationship with Jer was on the same dysfunctional path he had experienced with his own mother. He had failed to resolve his contempt for his mother prior to her death. He was ashamed of this, and vowed never to let this degree of divisiveness into his life again. And yet he found himself in exactly the same predicament with his only surviving son.

  What am I missing? What am I doing wrong? How can I change? These were the thoughts that haunted Ryan as he drove to California to confront Jarrod.

  TWENTY

  SAN JOSE, CALIFORNIA

  DR. ALDIN MILLS felt nauseous, and a sense of déjà vu weighed upon him like a mighty Himalayan avalanche. His body language projected utter defeat: His shoulders slumped and a foreboding look creased his face. It was the third time he had carefully analyzed the Quantum equations. There was no mistaking something was still missing, and he expected Dallas Weaver would be furious. He couldn’t believe he had made the same mistake a second time. The data looked complete. The inventor of the antigravity machine had also proven these newly acquired equations. So why doesn’t the machine work? he wondered.

  A year had passed since he was first contacted by Weaver to put together some revolutionary new machine. He had been given an unlimited budget to produce the antigravity device, which stood before him in the Bayshore warehouse. He had accomplished a great deal in the past year, working full-time at Oracle and long nights on the machine. It hadn’t been easy, as many of the parts needed custom fabrication, but ultimately he had completed a fully operational working model from the plans Weaver provided.

  Mills was fretful, remembering the last time he’d faced this identical impasse while working on the project. Weaver had provided him the complete engineering package—from the magnetized generator housing, to specs on the gravitron microwave dish, even the method to power the unit and how to estimate the artificially generated gravitational field. Everything appeared to be in order. He should have been able to build this new device from the schematics on hand. Mills had had no idea about the source of the information, but recollected his earliest premonition that something essential was missing. His only recourse at the time was to begin construction and proceed until he hit a technical obstacle. In the meantime, he had decided to confirm that the information to build the world’s first antigravity machine was valid. Remembering that fateful decision, Mills also recalled ignoring a gnawing suspicion that it could come back to haunt him. He replayed that fateful conversation in his head, aware that Weaver and Richard Kilmer were anxious to receive confirmation on the data.

  “Aldin, what’s up, buddy?” Weaver had asked.

  “Hey, Big D. Call Kilmer. Tell him we’re ready to build the machine. There are minor problems to resolve, but I’m certain everything will shake out when we start construction. It’s a remarkable breakthrough, man. You won’t believe
the simplicity of this thing.”

  “Great news,” Weaver had replied. “What do you need from us?”

  “I’ve pulled together a parts list. We’ll need some heavy-duty computer power to pull this off, and a warehouse to machine a bunch of parts you don’t just pull off the shelf. It isn’t going to be cheap. And I don’t have a clue where you’ll get the nuclear material. That’s up to you guys,” Mills had instructed.

  “Okay, I’ll have Kilmer contact Holloway. Plan to set up shop at the Bayshore warehouse. Kilmer’s anticipating that. We don’t want anyone to get wind of what we’re building.”

  “Got it.”

  “So…you’re sure this thing’ll work, right?” Weaver had asked. “Trust me, you don’t want to promise something you can’t deliver. Holloway doesn’t take failure lightly. He’s very unforgiving.”

  “Everything’s under control, buddy. Don’t worry. I can make this work. You can count on it.”

  The call to Weaver had left him feeling very uncomfortable. What if I can’t make the device work? What am I missing?

  Stop worrying, he had told himself. I’ll be famous when the world discovers I’ve built the first antigravity machine.

  Even though he had previously assured Weaver that he had all the essential design plans, there ultimately was a missing set of equations necessary for operating the machine. The fallout from his over-zealousness was not taken kindly. He knew he’d dodged a bullet before, but to admit the unit was still non-operational a second time would be catastrophic. Aldin remembered again the last conversation with Weaver on the subject: “Don’t promise anything you can’t deliver. Holloway doesn’t take failure lightly. He’s very unforgiving.”

  Aldin Mills couldn’t believe his oversight. He’d finally uncovered the necessity of another missing equation he knew was there. Unfortunately, this was not what he wanted to see. The inventor had hidden an interface program. The clues had been right in front of him the whole time. The hidden program provided the electrical sequencing for the nuclear core. Without this essential input, the machine was as good as scrap.

  Stupid, he thought. In my eagerness to activate the world’s first antigravity machine, I overlooked that someone much more clever than me is behind the discovery. Of course the inventor would protect the final equations. What an imbecile! I’ve got to call Dallas and give him the news. There’s no other alternative.

  Mills dialed Weaver’s cell phone.

  “Aldin, how are you?” Weaver asked, answering his phone on the first ring.

  “Not good, buddy,” Mills started. “We’ve got a serious problem. I can’t believe I overlooked it, but there’s still a missing piece in the Quantum equations. I’ve completed the structural connections, but there’s an interface program that somehow makes everything work. It channels the energy throughput to the core. The program must be hidden to stop anyone else from operating the machine. We’re dead without it, Dallas.”

  “Well…you’re dead where you stand, my friend, and I’m probably in line right behind you. I’ll have to run this by Kilmer. He’ll decide what we tell Holloway. Are you certain there’s no way around it?”

  “Unfortunately. I’ve looked at this from every angle…several times. I’ve completed the assembly and it’s obvious this last piece functions as the central nervous system of the entire unit. Only the designer can fix this problem. There’s no way to fabricate anything that will take its place,” Mills said dejectedly.

  Weaver took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Man, you’ve really put us in a box, pal. I recommended you for this assignment specifically to avoid complications. It’s my ass on the line here,” Weaver stated, keeping his composure, but the irritation in his voice was unmistakable. “This is now the second time we’ve had to go back for additional information. Our timetable won’t allow another mistake.”

  “I know…believe me, I feel like such a fool.”

  “Well, there’s nothing to be gained from second-guessing the matter,” he continued. Boss is gonna rip a gut on this one. We’ll likely have to kidnap Conrad. Jesus what a cluster, he thought

  “Listen…I know I’ve let you down, Dallas. I feel terrible.”

  “I’ll do my best to cover this up, Al…but no more screw-ups.

  I’ll say that the antigravity machine is operational, but our guy at Quantum held back a secret program we couldn’t have known about until the fabrication was completed. That’s essentially the truth, right?” Weaver asked, making sure they were both on the same page with their story. This would be dicey enough without giving mixed signals.

  “That’s the truth, man,” Mills replied. “Hey, thanks, Dallas. I owe you, buddy. I’ll make this right from here out. Consider it done.”

  “Well, just see that you do, Al, and you won’t owe me a thing,” he said, hoping he was finally right about Aldin Mills.

  This screw-up would be difficult to explain. There was no way to predict how Holloway would react to the news that the equations they stole from the Quantum Building were still incomplete. Nor was it a forgone conclusion that the solution would be to force Conrad to make the machine work. This news could have drastic ramifications on Holloway’s master plan. It would be up to Kilmer to present the facts and see where it took them.

  In the meantime, Weaver hoped he could keep Aldin Mills alive long enough to complete the Fort Knox operation. On further reflection, he hoped to keep himself alive, too.

  TWENTY-ONE

  JOHNS HOPKINS UNIVERSITY, MARYLAND

  18:30 HOURS

  DR. SELA COSCARELLI was in the middle of titrating expensive adenosine triphosphate when she received the call from her sister. Once starting the process, she couldn’t stop until each step to synthesizing this high-energy molecule was completed. Molecular biologists considered ATP the energy currency of all living organisms, storing the energy cells needed to function. It was present in the nucleoplasm of every cell, and responsible for a myriad of physiological functions, all requiring an energy source. Muscle cells typically used the greatest percentage of this cellular compound, by virtue of the physical activities muscles performed for the body. It was Sela’s goal to harness ATP for muscular dystrophy patients in need of this precious molecule.

  With the titration finally in order, Sela had a few moments before reporting to her evening teaching lab, where her graduate students assembled to discuss the status of experiments they conducted under her guidance. As she walked to class, she listened to the message from her sister. Hearing the news that her ex-brother-in-law was on the run slowed her gait, a pensive look replacing her customary professorial demeanor.

  Damn Ryan, she thought. What is it now?

  Sela quickly made her way to the lab. She was happy to see that her eager-beaver teaching assistant, Jordan Blair, was already there. They spoke briefly, and Sela mentioned that she expected to be late for lecture, but to proceed with reviewing the work assignments before she returned. This detail handled, she dialed Sarah’s number.

  “Hey, sis,” Sela said, when Sarah answered the phone.

  “Oh, thank God it’s you,” Sarah replied. “I’m beyond my wits today,” she said, her voice tremulous from the emotional strain. “I can’t believe this is happening all over again. I’m really worried that Ryan will kill him this time.”

  “Okay…okay, let’s calm down. Tell me what’s happened,” Sela ordered. She listened carefully, trying not to jump to any conclusions, as Sarah relayed the particulars of the latest altercation between Ryan and Jarrod.

  Sela shook her head, quietly listening to news of the trouble brewing somewhere in California. Most disturbing was that Jeremiah had decided to leave school under the premise of coming home to help his mother. She shared Sarah’s concern that Jer did sometimes have tendencies resembling the irrational traits of his father. She always believed it was just a matter of time before he was caught up in his father’s dysfunction. It didn’t surprise her that Jer wanted to get involved; after all, he was old enou
gh that simple placation would no longer suffice. Sela decided to address this problem head-on.

  “Well, I wish I had an immediate solution,” she said, when Sarah finished describing the sordid details. “But from what I understand… there’s not much else you can do. When Westbrook arrives, just tell him everything you know, including your suspicion that Ryan’s on his way to find Jarrod. Beyond that, you shouldn’t get any more involved.”

  Sela paused, but her sister didn’t comment. “Honestly, I think Jer leaving school is our biggest concern. We both know he can be as pig-headed as his father. I don’t think he’ll be easily dissuaded from getting into the middle of this mess. Actually, it may be best if he’s home to keep an eye on him. Left to his own resources, he might just decide to go after Ryan. Then where will we be?”

  “You’re reading my mind, Sel…don’t think I haven’t considered that,” Sarah answered. “There was no way to convince him to stay in school. He was adamant about coming home under the pretence of helping me, which I appreciate, but I know it runs deeper than that. He and Ryan have been at odds ever since our divorce and I fret about their relationship. Jer has turned against his father, which I understand, but I worry about how this will affect his future relationships. They need to work through this hostility.”

  “Well, frankly, that’s not our concern right now. When he gets home, I want him to call me.”

  “I know, I know, you’re right, of course. But I just don’t think he’s going to listen to me or you…no matter how much sense we make. I could hear it in his voice. He’s reached a breaking point. I’m wondering if Pop could help. Couldn’t he put a tail on him or something?” Sarah asked, grabbing for anything hopeful.