She shrugged. “Just conjecture based on Dr. Cho’s area of expertise....”
“Air Force?”
“That would be my guess. He did their airborne laser.”
He sighed. “If this continues, it’s going to kill our schedule. I’ll talk to the Director.”
Dr. Garrett Cho asked the test technician, “How much longer?”
“Capacitors will be at full charge in 20 minutes.”
Just then, one of Cho’s engineers came in with a box full of ICEEs. Cho loved the frozen drinks and had introduced them to his young team, which consisted of two engineers and two physicists, all under the age of 25. While they were waiting, they sat around sucking the ICEEs. Cho lifted his drink and toasted, “Happy Thanksgiving!” They returned his toast with grins.
The youngest, Greg Langlois, was an electrical engineer and software wizard. He asked Cho, “You think this one will work?”
Cho said, “Absolutely!”
Langlois smiled. “You always say that. What makes you so sure this time?”
Cho shrugged. “It has to. It’s the last mirror.”
Langlois said, “Uh oh.”
Cho shook his head. “Relax, dude. We’ll figure it out.”
“No, it’s not that. I just got a brain freeze.”
The optical engineer, Judy Lanier, laughed. She said, “That’s not good. Your brain can’t afford to work any slower than it already does.”
One of the physicists added, “Brain freeze is a simple heat transfer problem. All we have to do is dunk your head in boiling water for a few minutes.”
Lanier winked at Cho, then very seriously said, “Greg, push your thumb against the roof of your mouth. The heat and pressure from your thumb will help.”
As Langlois complied, the cell phones came out.
Knowing Langlois’s image was about to become a screen saver, Cho laughed hard enough to send the drink up his nose.
His young team was irreverent and they frequently made fun of each other, but they worked well together and were very creative, particularly Langlois. He might be gullible, but he was the brightest of the bunch.
The test technician finally reported, “Doctor, the capacitors are at full charge. Ready to fire when you are.”
The chamber looked like a small submarine with portholes. Heavily armored, the walls were high-strength steel, several inches thick. The “portholes” were even thicker bulletproof glass.
After the final checks, the technician counted down, “Five, four, three, two, one.”
There was a loud bang like a shotgun blast.
“Crap!” Cho said with real frustration. “There goes another one.” He didn’t have to see the test chamber to know what happened.
After it cooled, they opened it, and Cho dutifully peered inside. He saw tiny beads of melted glass sprayed across the metal walls and windows. He pulled his head out and each of the others peered in. As Langlois pulled his head out, he asked, “Any other mirrors we could try?”
Cho shook his head, “No, this company has the best and most reflective mirrors in the world. This was their newest prototype.”
Lanier added, “No mirrors can handle this much energy. We’re vaporizing them, and we’re not even running at full power.”
The physicist said, “Yes, but you have to be impressed by our laser’s power conversion efficiency. We’re cranking out some serious photons.”
Lanier shook her head. “Unless we figure out how to get a tight beam out of the atmosphere, we’re dead,” she added softly, “maybe literally.”
33
CIA
The Deputy Director of the CIA, Brian Davidson, rarely closed his office door. He wanted to make sure his people knew they had access to him in a world where access was tightly controlled. There was a knock on the doorframe. The Deputy looked up to see one of his directors.
“Sir, got a minute?”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“Got a complaint from the Director of the NRO.”
“A complaint?”
“Yeah, it appears our next-generation spy-satellite program is being delayed by some other super-secret program.”
Davidson sighed. “What else is new? Do we know anything about the other program?”
“Well, NRO already checked with the Director of National Intelligence, and she didn’t know anything about it. DNI thought it might be Air Force, but the Air Force claims they don’t know anything either. In fact, they’re whining that one of their programs is affected too.” He laughed. “Course, they immediately blamed the Navy.” He smiled. “I think the Air Force-Navy football game must be coming up.”
Looking back at his paperwork, Davidson said, “Black defense programs are usually the worst kept secrets. What’s the rumor mill say?”
“Well, that’s the weird part. Rumors are hinting at extraterrestrial stuff and the South Pole.”
Davidson sat up in his chair, “What?”
“Yeah, normally we’d dismiss it like all the other silly rumors, but this program’s sucked up several big-name engineers and scientists.”
Nodding, Davidson said, “Check your sources. If it still looks interesting, we’ll take it to the boss.”
It was early December. Josh noticed the meeting had ballooned to 40 people.
Meadows started it with, “OK, we’re T-minus three and a half months to our first operational firing. Dr. Lopez, how’s our cover story holding up?”
“So far, so good, but there’s a simple law about secrets.” She glanced meaningfully around the room. “The chances of a leak go up exponentially with the number of people involved. It isn’t a question of if ... but when.”
Meadows nodded. “Dr. Katori, how’s our Cat Blaster coming?”
Katori looked concerned. “We have a serious technical hurdle with the beam correction. Cho’s still at Los Alamos trying to figure out options.”
“What’s up?”
“The scale model Blaster is performing beautifully. If we’d been able to do this a couple decades ago, we could’ve built an impenetrable missile defense. They still have to figure out how to scale it up and get the aiming system configured, but I’m not worried about that right now. The problem is the beam correction. We’re using a concept from optical astronomy. They’ve used it for years to take better pictures by correcting for a light beam’s passage through the atmosphere.”
Meadows said, “I understand the concept, but can you explain the details?”
Katori said, “We’re going to bounce the Blaster’s beam off a deformable mirror. A guide laser, fired up through the atmosphere, tells the computer how to manipulate the mirror’s surface to compensate for atmospheric distortion. Tiny servos in the back of the flexible mirror make tiny changes to its shape hundreds of times a second. It’s a tried-and-true system.”
Meadows said, “Sounds good. So what’s the problem?”
“The problem is the power. The mirror has to reflect a billion watt beam in milliseconds.”
“So...?”
“Joe, no mirror is perfect. No mirror can reflect 100 percent of incoming light. The best of the best can reflect a remarkable 99.99 percent.”
Meadows nodded thoughtfully. “And if the mirror absorbs even one hundredth of a percent of a billion watts that’s—”
Katori finished, “Ten kilowatts, and it’s vaporized every mirror. Without beam correction, we can’t focus it enough to hit the comet.”
A discussion ensued among the engineers. The debate heated up. In each case, they discarded ideas due to physics, engineering, or time.
Finally, during a brief silence, Josh asked, “What causes thunder?”
Everyone stopped talking. Someone said “What?”
He repeated, “What causes thunder?”
All eyes turned toward him with expressions varying from confusion to irritation.
With a patronizing tone, one of the young engineers said what others were thinking. “Lightning?”
Josh smi
led. “Really? The electric discharge generates the sound?”
The engineer looked a little less confident. “Well, no. I think it’s more like a sonic boom.”
Not letting up, Josh asked, “From?”
One of the physicists jumped in. “It’s caused when the electric discharge superheats the air to tens of thousands of degrees. The hot air expands faster than the speed of sound creating a sonic boom and then falls back into the ... vacuum.” His expression suddenly changed. “A hole in the air is created!”
The scientists and engineers looked at each other with raised eyebrows as several conversations began.
With a slight headshake, Meadows grinned at Josh.
Chandra held up her hand for silence. When it quieted down, she tentatively asked, “Is it possible that instead of correcting our beam, we could punch a pilot hole through the atmosphere, just before we fire the main beam?”
Katori added, “Fire the beam twice in rapid succession, with the first shot superheating the air and opening a vacuum tunnel for the second.”
The physicist, who had explained thunder, said, “It won’t be a pure vacuum.” He shrugged. “But it would be extremely low density. We’d have to optimize the laser frequency of the first shot for absorption by air molecules, but it might create a hole for a few milliseconds.”
Chandra smiled. “Light’s fast. That’s all we need.”
Katori scratched his head. “It’s not impossible.” He paused. “We’ll have to think about how we fire it in rapid succession at two different frequencies. We’ll need more power.” He paused again. “We planned on using one reactor as the primary and the second as a backup, but maybe with both online....”
Chandra raised her hand and said, “I think we need to adjourn so we can go chase this idea down.”
Meadows nodded. “Class dismissed. Let me know what you figure out.”
On the way out, Chandra gave Josh an approving smile and said, “You might be onto something.”
Josh said, “I actually got the idea from you.”
She frowned.
He said, “Remember when I told you about seeing the amazing aurora at the South Pole?”
She nodded.
“You said when you blast that much energy through the atmosphere, you blow up a lot of air molecules.”
She laughed. “We’ll co-publish.”
As they broke up, Sheri smiled to herself. She had warned everyone about security leaks ... while she was busy working with Musk on a major press leak. But ... there was something else she had to do. Catching Smith before he left, she asked, “May I talk to you for a moment?”
He nodded.
“I’d like to sit down with you briefly, and compare notes on some of the team. I might have some psychological insights that could be useful in protecting the program and people in it.” She thought to herself, including you. She had to admit she also found him fascinating.
Smith frowned, but then nodded. “Actually, Dr. Lopez, there is an area that I could use your help with.” He paused, looking directly at her. “Of course, this would have to be kept in the strictest confidence.”
“Tim, I’m a psychiatrist, we deal in secrets all the time. What can I help you with?”
He said quietly, “I’m having some challenges regarding the background of one of the members of this team.”
She asked, “Which one?” but she knew who it was.
Davidson read the report and decided to visit his boss.
The Director of the CIA was talking on the phone with his feet propped up on his desk. Seeing his Deputy at the door, he motioned him in.
Davidson came in and sat down, accustomed to waiting. Director “Buster” Johnson earned his nickname honestly. Looking a little like George C. Scott in the movie Dr. Strangelove, he was a short, swarthy man with a strong handshake and a temper to match. Like the general in the movie, he also had an irritating tendency to chew bubble gum.
Although he wasn’t a lot taller than Buster, Davidson was different in almost every other characteristic. Unlike Buster, Davidson was trim with fine features and always dressed neatly with a tie. Even though he knew he would never operate in the field again, he believed it was important to set the example. He was an avid runner and still competed in triathlons although pushing 60. He was also a patient man who rarely got excited and always enjoyed a good puzzle.
The Director finally got off the phone. “What’s up?”
“Sir, we’ve got something a little odd going on and I wanted to bounce it off you.”
Buster, chewing gum as usual, asked, “You mean that Iranian thing?”
“No sir, this is internal. Have you ever heard of a black program codenamed Resurrect?”
“Nope. What’s it about or will you have to kill me?”
The Deputy smiled. “Well, that’s the weird part. This appears to be a black program among black programs. It’s been sucking up experts from other programs, but we can’t find any agency or military branch that claims it.”
“Why should we care? Are they killing anyone or threatening to?”
“No. The reason we found out about it is that it’s affecting our next-generation spy-satellite. Their best and brightest engineers are being funneled into it and off our program.”
Buster laughed. “So we’re really talking about a ‘rice bowl’ fight?”
“Possibly.”
“Well, unless it threatens national security or we’re given a mandate to investigate, let’s just keep an eye on it. See what else you can find out quietly. Don’t want to look like idiots by investigating a pet program of this administration, like that NASA fiasco last year.”
Josh knew the schedule would continue to slide until they fixed the beam correction. Every day, the comet moved three million kilometers closer, making it that much harder to deflect. These issues, however, paled in comparison to his latest challenge — Elizabeth had invited him to her parents’ home for Christmas.
He didn’t want to go, but she pointed out there was little he could accomplish on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. Even those toiling to save the world had to have a breather. She was right. The team needed to spend some time with their families, if for no other reason than to remind them of what they were trying to save.
Although he had talked to Elizabeth frequently since Sheri brought them back together, he only managed to meet her twice since then, and only for a quick lunch between events. He finally accepted Kelly’s marriage, and his physical injuries had healed. He really wanted to see Elizabeth. Actually, he wanted to do more than just see her. He shook his head. Her parents’ house wasn’t exactly what he had in mind.
34
CHRISTMAS
Two days before Christmas, Davidson was back in the Director’s office. “Remember a couple weeks ago when I told you about that black program Resurrect?”
Buster frowned as he stuffed papers into his briefcase. “Uh, yeah, I guess.”
“My preliminary investigation shows a sizable program involving engineers and scientists from Boeing, Grumman and NASA. There are rumors about operations in Los Alamos and even Antarctica. I’ve talked to all the major agencies and military branches and no one appears to know anything about it. It may be so highly classified that they aren’t talking, but it’s unusual to have something this big without an obvious sponsor. My instinct says we should investigate further, but I’d like to confirm that the President isn’t aware of it first.”
Buster nodded vaguely. “I’ll ask him, but it’ll have to wait. I’m out of here. Short of DEFCON 1, I don’t plan to be back until after Christmas.” He slapped Davidson on the back. “Merry Christmas!”
Josh flew to Austin on Christmas Eve. He didn’t expect snow but stepping outside the terminal, the almost 70-degree breeze caught him by surprise. Looking around, he immediately saw Elizabeth. She was leaning against her jeep wearing a light summer dress that fluttered softly in the breeze. He suddenly appreciated the warm weather.
Aft
er hugging her tightly, he threw his small bag in the back. Climbing into the passenger seat, he tentatively asked, “What did you tell your parents?”
“I just told them you were a military officer working on a sensitive program. You didn’t have any family, and I didn’t want you to spend Christmas alone. They accepted it without question.”
On the way to her parents’ home, Elizabeth gave him a brief rundown on her family. He was happy just to sit and listen to her talk.
He quickly found her parents to be kind and open. He spent a lot of time playing with four of Elizabeth’s very young nieces and nephews. Fighter pilots and small children played well together. He also discovered his new body made an exceptionally effective jungle gym.
Elizabeth’s mother was much like her daughter, beautiful and gracious, with old world charm. He suspected that she was aware of the chemistry between him and Elizabeth. Women had that knack, a mother even more so, but she was very kind and never asked uncomfortable questions.
After dinner on Christmas Eve, Josh went for a walk to give Elizabeth time with her family. The dark tree-lined streets followed the rolling topography of the hills. It had cooled off after sunset, and he enjoyed the exercise as he randomly followed the serpentine streets.
There was no one out. Everyone was with their families tonight. He appreciated Elizabeth and her parents, but it was hard not to think about the family he had lost. Out there, somewhere was Kelly and Carl, celebrating their first Christmas with their new daughter ... his daughter. It hurt to think about, but he no longer ran from the memories. Smiling sadly, he gave them all a silent toast, whispering, “Merry Christmas, Kelly, Carl and Caitlin.” Wiping his eyes, he extended his toast. “Merry Christmas, Jesse.” If it weren’t for Jesse, he wouldn’t be here to make a toast. He refused to let pity drive his thoughts, clearing his mind he asked, “Jesse, you there?”
Impact (Fuzed Trilogy Book 1) Page 21