Impact (Fuzed Trilogy Book 1)

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Impact (Fuzed Trilogy Book 1) Page 16

by David E Stevens


  There was a positive tension in the room. Meadows sat at one end of the table with Chandra on his right and Katori on his left. Lopez, Wooldridge and Cho usually sat in the first tier, spaced around the table. Generally, the second tier was for the more junior personnel. Josh always sat in the second tier near Meadows, trying to keep a low profile. He noticed that Tim Smith also sat in the second tier but never in the same place twice.

  Meadows started the meeting, “I’d like everyone to welcome our two new logistics teammates.” He pointed to two men sitting at the table to the left of Katori. “This is Dr. Winston Shepherd and Mr. Christoff Bobinski. Dr. Shepherd has several degrees and government certifications in logistics and support. Mr. Bobinski is world renowned in industrial construction, particularly under extreme conditions. Gentlemen, welcome to the team.”

  There were nods from around the table. Dr. Shepherd was a slightly overweight, medium-height man in his fifties, with a hawkish nose and thin, black hair combed carefully over a large bald spot. Bobinski was similar in age, but with a gray beard, he looked more like Sean Connery.

  Josh couldn’t help but think what a strange and eclectic team this was.

  Meadows kicked it off. “So, where and how are we going to site this thing?”

  Katori said, “We believe we’ve found the perfect location. Mount Howe is the closest exposed bedrock to the geographic South Pole. This site will allow us to build on solid ground instead of snow pack. That’s good since we have to align the beam to within a gnat’s eyelash and we’re powering it with a nuclear reactor which generates a lot of heat.”

  Meadows asked, “Don’t we need to be right at the South Pole for the beam to swivel as the earth rotates?” He smiled at Chandra. “See, I’ve been paying attention.”

  Chandra grinned back. “Normally, yes, but it’s only 300 kilometers from the pole, and the top of Mount Howe is 9600 feet above sea level. That height compensates for not being right at the pole. The mountain top, combined with the flattening of the atmosphere at the poles, also means there’s 40 percent less air to get the beam through.”

  Katori continued, “There’s also a major logistics advantage. Turns out, they evaluated Mount Howe back in ‘89 as a potential airfield to support the South Pole base. A flat plain of smooth blue ice surrounds the mountain. That means with some surface prep, conventional wheeled aircraft can land there.”

  Meadows frowned in question.

  Major Crow jumped in. “At the South Pole base, they have to use special C-130s with skis. Being able to use large conventional cargo jets, like C-5s, vastly simplifies our construction transportation and logistics. The only reason they scrapped the idea was that it was too far to the South Pole.”

  “That’s great. What about security?”

  Josh said, “With the Antarctic Treaty, there’s no way we’ll get permission to put a nuclear reactor there without U.N. debate. Our international expert,” Josh didn’t use Carl’s name, “has been working with Dr. Lopez and Dr. Chandra on a cover story.” He nodded at them.

  Chandra said, “Mount Howe would be a great location for an astronomical observatory for the same reason we want it.”

  Meadows asked, “So a new observatory is our cover story?

  Chandra laughed. “No, it would draw too much attention. Hundreds of astronomers would be fighting for observing time before it’s even built.”

  Lopez added. “The cover story will be an ozone layer study. It’s a little thin,” she smiled at the obvious pun, “but should give us some time.” She shook her head. “We’re not going to keep this under wraps long. There are too many people involved and we’ll be moving heavy equipment.”

  Meadows nodded. “Where are we going to stage out of?”

  Katori said, “Falklands.”

  “Why?”

  “Four reasons. It’s one of the closest airfields to the South Pole. It’s a stable satellite country of the U.K. The island is very isolated with a tiny population of only 3,000, yet they have a big commercial/military airfield able to support large cargo jets. Finally, we have a stroke of good luck. Turns out, we have some Boeing people already there.”

  Meadows looked surprised. “Seriously?”

  Katori continued, “The Australians have a Super Hornet squadron deployed to the Falklands right now.”

  There were some curious looks around the table.

  Meadows jumped in, finally in his area of expertise. “Of course. Despite Argentina’s loss to the Brits during the Falklands War, they still claim that the Falklands are rightfully theirs, and recently purchased advanced Russian fighters. The U.K. made an arrangement with the Australians. I’ll bet they’re funding the deployment of the Super Hornets under the guise of a joint training exercise. It’s a clear message to thwart any renewed Argentine interest in the islands.”

  Katori shrugged. “Bottom line, we have Boeing technical reps assigned to support our foreign military contracts on the Super Hornets. Two of our people are there now. They can easily run our staging office without drawing attention.”

  Meadows said, “Excellent. Let’s look at the timeline.”

  Katori said, “It’s going to be extremely tight. We have to have the facility on top of Mount Howe, ready to receive the energy-beam projector, in eight months. We also have to have an operating nuclear reactor by then. Fortunately, the Antarctic summer, with six months of daylight, begins in a few weeks.”

  Dr. Shepherd, who had been frowning the whole time, finally pulled his glasses off and said, “There’s no way we can get a nuclear-powered base on top of a mountain in Antarctica in seven months. It will take a couple years, minimum.”

  There was a tense silence.

  Katori looked from Shepherd to Meadows.

  Meadows said, “Mr. Bobinski, what do you think?”

  With a heavy Russian accent, he asked, “What are budget constraints?”

  Meadows looked directly at Josh.

  Josh had watched Bobinski’s face while Shepherd spoke and saw an almost imperceptible smile. Josh said, “None.”

  Shepherd inserted, “It doesn’t matter what the budget is; you have to scrape a runway, build an access road up the mountain, and put a large facility on top. How are you going to do that in Antarctica?”

  Meadows then looked at Bobinski with raised eyebrows, clearly giving him permission to speak.

  Bobinski simply said, “D7E electric diesel hybrid bulldozers.”

  Shepherd asked, “How’re you going to get them there?”

  “One C-17 can carry two of them.”

  “How’re you going to keep them from freezing? The temperature there gets down to 50 degrees below zero.”

  Meadows leaned over and whispered to Josh, “Fahrenheit or Celsius?”

  Josh whispered back, “At that temperature, it doesn’t matter.”

  Bobinski said, “Bulldozers will never be turned off.”

  Shepherd continued to argue, “There just isn’t enough time.”

  Bobinski said, “We’ll use the six months of daylight. Since the sun and bulldozers will be up 24 hours, so will we.”

  Shepherd said, “What about blizzards and white-out conditions?”

  Chandra jumped in. “Antarctica actually only gets about an inch of precipitation a year. The blizzards are mostly ground snow blown around by high winds. Antarctica is more like a desert with sandstorms than a winter wonderland. With the energy-beam on the mountaintop, it will also be above most of the blowing snow.”

  Shepherd asked, “Where are you going to get enough C-17s?”

  Katori laughed. “Dr. Shepherd, you’re sitting in a Boeing conference room. We make ‘em here.”

  Shepherd finally stopped arguing and shook his head.

  Meadows wrapped up the meeting with more assignments.

  Josh thought it was progressing beautifully, but he knew the real technical and logistics challenges were ahead. Oddly, one of the things he was most concerned with didn’t involve the program. He hadn’t be
en able to reach Elizabeth. He really wanted to see her, particularly after the Kelly catharsis. He’d called several times, but always got her voicemail. Still trying to keep a low profile, he hadn’t left messages or texts.

  Smith stayed behind after the meeting. Speaking quietly, he said, “Captain Meadows, I’ve finished my background checks on the team personnel.”

  Smiling, Meadows said, “I hope you’re not going to tell me that Cho likes to paint his toenails.”

  “No, but if he did, it wouldn’t matter because he’s an extrovert. He’d be the first to tell you. I only look for things that could be used to blackmail or entice.”

  “And?”

  “It’s a solid team. There are only two individuals who are of some concern. One, because of his financial situation, and the other because I can’t find any background information on him. He’s what we refer to in the intelligence community as a non-person.”

  Meadows frowned. “Who are you talking about?”

  26

  ANTARCTICA

  Things were moving fast. They were working feverishly at Los Alamos and sending a team to survey the South Pole site. Meadows said that he would visit Los Alamos and shepherd the laser work, and told Josh to go on the site survey to Antarctica.

  With all the activity, it was probably good that he was no longer involved with Elizabeth. He’d finally left her a voicemail, asking if she was all right. By text, he received a simple reply, “I’m fine.” He remembered her telling him that her parents took in strays all the time. It occurred to him that their relationship might have been nothing more than that. Maybe she was just a Good Samaritan like her parents and had moved on once she knew he didn’t need her help anymore. Still, he had to admit it hurt, but he needed to keep his focus on the mission.

  He met briefly with Meadows, Katori, Smith and Lopez.

  Smith said, “We’ll need a cover story for the Antarctic logistics flights.”

  Meadows smiled. “It’s common knowledge that the Australians are interested in upgrading their Super Hornet’s phased-array radar.”

  Katori jumped in. “It wouldn’t be unusual for Boeing to send a team to install the new radar so they could test it under real-world conditions before buying. Since radar technology is highly classified, it would explain Boeing Phantom Works involvement and the logistics flights.”

  Smith and Lopez both nodded.

  Meadows still smiling said, “Covert stuff’s kind of fun.”

  After wrapping up the meeting, Josh and Lopez walked toward the parking lot together.

  She casually asked, “How’s Elizabeth?”

  Josh frowned. “I think she’s fine. I haven’t talked to her in a couple months.”

  She stopped and turned to him. “I thought you two were kind of an item?”

  He smiled to cover his hurt. “No, I think she’s just an incredibly kind and generous person. Now that we’re off and running, she’s gotten back to her regular life.”

  With raised eyebrows, she said, “Really?”

  Not wanting to talk about it, he changed the subject. He needed Lopez’s help on when and how to introduce this to the public, and didn’t want to share it with the rest of the team yet. “Sheri, when I return from the pole, there are some things I’d like to talk to you about.” He paused. “Privately.”

  Smiling, she said, “Let’s have dinner when you get back.”

  They flew to Antarctica in a Boeing C-17 ER Globemaster. The “ER” stood for Extended Range. In addition to the extra tanks, they had also installed a giant fuel bladder in the cargo area.

  Their mission was to survey the proposed site and set up a base camp. The team consisted of Josh, Katori, Bobinski and four of Bobinski’s people: a civil engineer, a construction expert, and two burly construction crewmembers. They also had two full flight crews, an Air Force Loadmaster and a medic. Unlike the old days when military transports had nothing but uncomfortable web-seats, this one had a few regular airline seats. The only thing missing was windows, sound insulation and flight attendants.

  They stopped in Fort Meyers, Florida, to pick up Musk and load equipment. To keep a low profile, they used Private Sky Aviation, a trusted company that had hosted other classified government flights. The C-17 was quickly loaded with two snowcats, several snowmobiles, a large, portable Quonset hut and several boxes of equipment. From there, they flew to Antarctica with a short refueling stop in the Falklands.

  Josh used the 8,500-mile flight to catch up on his reading. With his reduced need for sleep and ability to speed-read, he could finish a dozen books during the flight. On his tablet, he downloaded a wide range of titles including astrophysics, quantum mechanics, cosmology, anthropology, psychology and sociology. He had biographies of famous leaders and books on Antarctica, cold weather survival and mountain climbing. His photographic memory and speed-reading only went so far. He still needed time to process what he read.

  Halfway through the flight, he finished the fourth book. It was on quantum mechanics and it required some thought. He decided he needed a break. The loud drone of the C-17’s turbofan engines was like pink noise, and looking around, he saw all his fellow passengers were asleep. He hadn’t been able to reach Jesse in a quite a while. Truthfully, he had been so busy he hadn’t tried. Knowing no one could hear him over the engines, he called Jesse.

  He was no longer surprised his communication link worked inside an aircraft over the Atlantic. “Jesse, I’ve been reading a lot and thinking about what you said. May I ask some more questions?”

  Science, art or religion?

  He frowned. “Why would we want to talk about art? I mean it’s cool and all, but it’s ... it’s art. As for religion, it’s mostly moral philosophies, historical stories, and superstitions propagated over time. I’d like to talk about science.”

  Science is that which you can do and understand. Art is that which you can do without understanding. Religion is simply that which you can neither do nor understand.

  “Hmm. That’s an interesting way to look at it.” He thought for a moment. “So if we treat a known bacterial infection with a specific antibiotic, that’s obviously science. Acupuncture appears to have some effect, but I don’t think we’re completely sure why. So, that might be art? Then we have people with untreatable diseases that are somehow miraculously cured. Guess that might be the spiritual stuff?” He paused again. “Let’s start with the stuff we understand.”

  He sensed attention and began, “Quantum mechanics lies at the heart of physics, but if you follow it to its ultimate conclusion, the results border on the mystical. Nobel Prize-winning physicist Niels Bohr said anyone who isn’t shocked by quantum mechanics hasn’t understood it.”

  Yes?

  He paused marshalling his thoughts. “OK, quantum mechanics says at the subatomic level, weird things happen, particles pop in and out of existence and can be in two different places at the same time. There’s a thought experiment called ‘Schrödinger’s Cat’ that illustrates one of the paradoxes that haunts physics. There’s a cat in a sealed box with a particle detector attached to a vial of poison gas. The detector can detect the presence of a single particle. The odds are fifty-fifty that the particle will appear. If it detects the particle, it releases gas into the box and the cat dies. I suspect Schrödinger didn’t like cats. If it doesn’t detect the particle, the cat lives. But quantum mechanics says a subatomic particle can be both over here and over there, until observed. Only by observing it, is the particle locked into one location.” He shook his head. “That means until someone observes whether the particle is there, the cat is both dead and alive, which is absurd. It suggests reality isn’t real until an observer observes it.” That doesn’t make sense.”

  Then why do they believe it?

  “Because 70 years of experimental results confirm quantum mechanics works. Technologies we use every day require it. In fact, without it, our laser wouldn’t work. Niels Bohr summed it up with, ‘Nothing is real until it’s observed.’ That
can’t be right ... can it?”

  Their conversation ended when the Loadmaster passed out box lunches, waking up the passengers.

  Fueled by a dry ham sandwich, quantum mechanics and his conversation with Jesse, he decided to dig deeper into the physics books and even start reading some of the books of the world’s major religions.

  27

  MOUNT HOWE

  Josh and the others crowded into the cockpit as the C-17 approached Mount Howe. It was mid-September, the end of the long dark Antarctic winter. The sun lit only the mountaintops, casting a shadow on the featureless, white plain.

  As they circled, Petrov, one of Bobinski’s men, took hundreds of pictures of the ridgeline with a telephoto lens. They were looking for the optimal site at the top and a way to get to it with heavy equipment. Bobinski asked the pilot to circle one more time and go lower.

  She was an Air Force test pilot assigned to Boeing. “No problem. I’ll go as low as you want, but we’ll have to land soon to have enough fuel to make it back.”

  The landing was rough. The pilot threw the engines into reverse shortly after they touched down, but it felt like they were landing on a cobblestone street. Just in case, they were prepared with equipment to change tires.

  The aircraft finally bumped to a stop, and the pilot shut the engines down. She kept the auxiliary turbine running to supply the aircraft with power and heat.

  After everyone bundled up in arctic gear, the Loadmaster lowered the C-17’s giant ramp. Musk was the first off. As Josh stepped off the ramp, Musk yelled over the turbine whine, “Welcome to the bottom of the world!”

  Their clothing was the best money could buy. It kept his body warm in the 25-below-zero temperature, but his face was partially exposed. Even without much wind, his cheeks stung and his eyes watered with tears quickly freezing to his face.

 

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