by Mark Harritt
Bobby studied the numbers intently. Leitz turned away from the screen, the footsteps behind them registering with him before they did with Bobby. Bobby also turned around to look.
Mike Crandall and Ed Nachmann stepped into the small cave, the two others that, with Leitz, had been nicknamed the three amigos by Mike and the Spec Ops team.
Mike grinned, “You two look like Wyatt and Gary from ‘Weird Science.’”
Leitz stood up and welcomed them.
“Unfortunately, we couldn’t get any of the ladies to loan us their bras for the next phase of this test,” Bobby quipped.
Leitz looked over his shoulder at Bobby and blinked, “I thought that would be before your time, young man.”
Bobby shrugged his shoulders, “My mom had a crush on Anthony Michael Hall. I’ve seen all of his movies and television shows.”
Leitz looked back at Ed and Mike, “Gentlemen, I’m glad you’re here.”
Ed grinned, “Where else would we be. You asked us to come.”
Mike looked beyond Leitz at the computer terminal and the null generator, “Uh, guys, I thought we all agreed that we’d leave that thing unplugged. Last time it switched on, we ended up a billion years away from home. We don’t have another billion years that we can play with. The earth will be uninhabitable by that time.”
Leitz pointed a finger at Mike, started to say something, then dropped his hand and shrugged, “Good point,” he didn’t stop there, though, “But, that was before we understood the mechanism of the null generator.”
This time, Leitz pointed at Ed, “Ed, you worked with the team that created this, right?”
Ed nodded, “Yeah, but only on materials. I never knew what my work was for. The team at M.I.T. flew me in for a few days so that I could confer with them on quantum level matrices, how they affect magnetic alignment, and the possible disruption to solid state circuitry.”
Bobby turned around to stare at Ed, “You want to repeat that in English?”
Ed laughed, “I’m not sure I can.”
Bobby shook his head, “I’m glad I’m just a code jockey.”
Mike looked at Bobby, “Just?”
Bobby grinned, “Okay, you got me. The best code jockey we have. But, since there’s only three of us, and one isn’t allowed to play with the toys anymore, that’s not saying a whole lot.”
Mike put his hand on Bobby’s shoulder and squeezed, “You underestimate yourself, Bobby. Dr. Randall hired you for a reason. The mechs wouldn’t work without the code that you wrote for the neural interface. Plus, you captured the internet.” Mike did his best to imitate Mickey’s stance, “Or, as Mickey likes to say, ‘The whole freakin’ thing!’”
The group laughed at Mike’s spot on impression of the Delta medic.
Bobby was at a loss for words. A young man, and an introspective one at that, he had a lot of respect for these three men. The fact that they respected his capabilities as a programmer meant a lot to him.
Leitz shifted the attention from Bobby and the sudden silence back to the null generator, “And, luckily for us, Bobby’s project was extremely successful, to the point that it captured the data from M.I.T., specifically, project Kairos.”
That last captured Ed’s attention, “What, wait, that’s not the project I was there to advise them on.”
Leitz smiled, “They may not have told you that was the project, but it had a direct application to Kairos. And, in fact, your advice impacted several projects. It turns out that the information you advised them on had broader implications.”
“Such as?”
Leitz grinned, “Such as, things that I don’t really understand, since I’m just a mechanical engineer, not a theoretical physicist.” He held a finger up, “But, the good news is that I don’t have to understand it, because, the finished product,” he did his best imitation of Vanna White, motioning toward the null generator, “Is complete, and only needs an instruction manual.”
Mike’s eyes narrowed, “Okay Vanna, you’re telling me that you found the instruction manual, but you don’t actually know how this thing works? I’m thinking that may be a dangerous road to walk down.”
Leitz shook his head, “Oh no, I know exactly how it works. I read the book from cover to cover. What I’m telling you is, that most of what I’ve read doesn’t make sense to anybody without an advanced mathematical and theoretical physics background. But, like most people who drive a car don’t understand how the internal combustion engine actually works, the null generator has been engineered so that dumb ass mechanical engineers like me can figure out how to point and steer.”
Ed put his hand on his chin, “Bob, I hate to burst your bubble, but recent circumstances, as in the past year and half, seem to indicate otherwise.”
Leitz’ finger went back up, “But, it wasn’t the failure of the machinery. That was in fact, due to a sociopath with a tumor the size of a walnut in his brain.”
Silence permeated the cave like a physical presence as they contemplated Director Jamison, blood pressure rising simultaneously in all four of them. Not that any of them would ever wish the misfortune of cancer on anyone, but none of the four were unhappy that the man was dead, either.
Mike crossed his arms, “So, what you’re telling us, is, that you’ve found the programming parameters for the null generator?”
Leitz nodded enthusiastically, “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
Ed spread his hands, “So? What good’s it going to do us? I don’t want to skip further down the line. God alone knows what might wait for us further into the future.”
“I agree, Ed, I don’t want to either. But, you have to remember what this was created for, and to a degree, has already, demonstrably, been successful at doing. It was created as a shield, from any kind of attack. A shied that was supposed to turn on, and then turn off when the danger from the attack was over. It did successfully shield us from a nuclear strike. The problem arose when Jamison,” everyone grimaced when the director’s name was mentioned, “didn’t have the proper parameters programmed into the machine. Because of that, we had to wait until the cesium clock ran out of juice, so the machine would turn off and return us to regular space/time.”
Ed and Mike stared at Bob. Mike spoke first, “Still, I’m not comfortable with experimenting with that machine. We could end up frozen in time again.”
Bob grinned, “That’s why the first experiments weren’t conducted here. I couldn’t chance it being done anywhere near our people. I was afraid that, what you’re talking about, might actually happen.”
Ed frowned, “What do you mean?”
“Ed, you remember when I asked to be one of the last people flown out of our old compound?”
Once again, Mike and Ed stared at Bob. Once again, it was Mike that spoke first, “Are you saying . . .?”
Leitz nodded, “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” He put his hand on Bobby’s shoulder, “We did preliminary testing when everyone had been airlifted out. Bobby was kind enough, and brave enough, to help me do so. And, it was a success.”
Bobby turned from the screen, “Believe me guys, I wasn’t too thrilled with the idea either. But Bob showed me the operating parameters that he’d pulled from the M.I.T. data. After I read that, I was a lot more willing to participate.”
Mike frowned, “How did you stay out of the field of effect? That thing was big enough to engulf most of the old DARPA facility. It would have swallowed the compound.”
Leitz grew excited, pointing at Mike’s chest, “That’s one of the things that I found out about when I read the parameters. It turns out that the field of effect is variable. In actuality, it could have been expanded to encompass the entire structure. Hell, it could have saved everyone at the DARPA compound, even those on the surface. If Jamison had made sure that this was installed correctly, the people in the offices above us would have been saved as well.”
Ed did something that was uncharacteristic, not only for a respected man with a PhD, bu
t most especially, for him. Cursing profusely, almost as if he’d spent years in the infantry, he growled as he spoke, “Another sin to lay at Jamison’s feet.”
Mike turned to stare at Ed, “You’ve been hanging around Mike and the others way too much lately.”
A sardonic grin painted Ed’s features, “I knew all those words long before they showed up.”
Bobby spoke, “In all fairness, the man did have a brain tumor.”
Mike waved that point away, “I’ve known the man for years. He was an asshole before he had the tumor.”
Bobby, having suffered from a few of Jamison’s belittling rants, was unwilling to argue the point, so he shrugged and turned back to the computer.
Ed continued, “So, Bob, I guess we’re here so that you can explain what happened with those previous attempts?”
Leitz pointed at the computer, “Well, not only explain, but with your permission, to demonstrate to you. What Bobby is looking at is the data collected from the null generator. We also have video that we took while we were conducting the experiment.”
“Okay, let’s take a look at the video, then.”
Leitz motioned for Bobby to bring up the video, “If you would please, show them the video.”
Bobby clicked away from the scrolling data, and clicked on an MP4 video file.
The three men clustered over his shoulder to watch the video. As they watched, Mike pointed at the screen, “Why did you unplug the computer?”
“Once the parameters are programmed, there’s no need for it to be attached. Plus, there was a very good possibility that the cable could be severed since it resided both in and out of the null effect,” Leitz explained.
Mike grunted and nodded, satisfied with the explanation. Computer cables were a finite resource in this new world. They couldn’t make them, and it wasn’t like they could pop out to a Best Buy or Fry’s to get a new one.
“So, we’ve loaded the parameters, which includes a decreased area of generated field effects, as well as decreasing the time frame for it to operate,” Leitz looked around at Mike and Ed, “We hoped by decreasing the time and area of effect, that if one, or the other was incorrectly programmed, that we would be able to escape without having to endure another billion years of imprisonment.”
Ed smiled, “Looks like it worked.”
Leitz grinned, “Thankfully, yes it did.”
The screen flashed suddenly, showing a spectacular display of light, which suddenly changed to a ball of deep black.
“Wow, I’ve wondered what it would look like from the outside.”
Leitz put his hand on Ed’s shoulder and squeezed, “Oh, that doesn’t even begin to show the visual effects of the null field. Believe me, it’s quite … disturbing when you actually see it for the first time.”
Bobby nodded, though he added, “it’s not just the first time. It’s always disturbing.”
“How many times did you do this … experiment?” Mike asked.
“Well, we had limited time. Mike was pretty insistent about the time we had. I wanted to do more research, but we had to hurry, so we only did it five times.”
“Six,” Bobby said.
Leitz conceded Bobby’s point, “Okay, six, but we had the time set so low on the first one that we barely got any data from the experiment.” He explained to Mike and Ed, “We set the time for a split second on the first experiment, just in case.”
“You mind if we check out your data?” Ed asked.
Leitz patted the side of Bobby’s arm, indicating that he should vacate the chair he was sitting in. Bobby rose, and Leitz motioned for them to take a seat, “Not at all, that’s why I asked you to come. We have each one of the experiments in their own separate folders on the desktop. The video and data set is in each folder. Please, take a look, and let me know what you think.”
Mike and Ed both took the proffered chairs and Mike took control of the mouse. He looked at Ed, “Where do you want to start?”
Ed pointed at the first folder, “How about we start by looking at the videos first, then we can check the data sets for each one of the trials.”
They ran each one of the videos. Nothing seemed to be amiss, each video almost exactly like the previous one, so they quickly dove into the data files, looking for any anomalies.
Ed leaned back, “Well, your methodology seems sound. It looks as if your operating parameters were spot on.”
Ed heard a chuckle. Ed and Mike swiveled around to see grins on the faces of Leitz and Bobby.
“What?” Ed asked.
Leitz nudged Bobby with an elbow, “See, I told you they wouldn’t see it.”
Bobby shook his head, “I didn’t believe you. I thought they’d pick it out of the data.”
Mike frowned, “Are you going to let us in on your secret?”
Leitz chuckled again, “Sure Mike. I’m sorry, just a little joke between Bobby and me. Please, don’t get upset.”
Bobby nodded, “I didn’t see it at first either. He had to point it out to me.”
“See what?” Ed asked.
Leitz walked forward, stood next to Mike, leaned over and put his hand to hover over Mike’s hand on the mouse, “May I?”
Mike slid his hand out of the way, “Sure.”
Leitz took the mouse and ran the data back to the spot he was looking for, then he pointed, “you see that?”
Ed looked at the data, “That looks like a rotational shift on the horizontal axis.”
Leitz nodded, “Yes, you’re correct. It is.”
Mike frown, “But that’s impossible. There’s no force along the horizontal axis. Why would there be a rotational shift?”
Leitz didn’t say anything. He grinned, letting them figure it out for themselves.
“Wait a second,” Mike put his hand back onto the mouse, barely giving Leitz time to move his hand away from it. Mike scrolled back up through the data, and then he found what he wanted, “There, right there, you see it?”
Ed looked at the data set, and his face paled. He looked up at Leitz, “Did you do that on purpose?”
Leitz shook his head, “No, not at all. It was an accidental keystroke.”
Bobby held up his hand, “My fault.”
Ed was astounded, “Are you sure …?”
Leitz nodded, “Positive.”
Mike slowly looked up at Leitz, “So, time … and space?”
Leitz nodded, “inexorably linked.”
Bobby leaned forward between Ed and Mike, and pulled up another program. A few keystrokes, and then he hit enter. He leaned back up, walked around the table, and then walked over to the null generator and pulled the computer cable free. He turned, and, as he walked back, he rolled the cable up. He stopped next to the table, and turned around to watch.
They watched. It took a while for it to happen. They’d set it for four minutes, time built in as a safety factor so that whoever unhooked the cable could easily move away from the effect. So, because of the long wait, they were startled when the air around the null generator started to sparkle. Light shifted from the visible spectrum to what seemed to be impossible colors. Even ten feet away, they all felt queasy by the field being generated. And then, the light disappeared, seemingly sucked out of existence, replaced by a darkness that seemed to not only absorb, but actively pull the light into itself. This effect was intense, but only for a split second. Then, approximate four feet away, the process reversed. An intense darkness for a split second, followed by the shimmering, impossible colors, and then the null generator sat on the cave floor, unmoving.
Mike’s mouth dropped open. He suddenly realized that fact, and shut it quickly with such force that he heard his teeth click. He looked over at Ed. He saw what was possibly the same expression that he had on his face, mirrored on Ed’s.
Leitz was positively gleeful, “I never thought I’d see this day!”
Mike turned around to look at him, “What day?”
“The day that you’re both speechless.”
&n
bsp; Ed didn’t turn around, “Smart ass.”
“So, the cesium clock on board the null generator, and the time outside the null field?” Mike asked.
“No change. Subjective time and Objective time are the same.”
Ed shook his head, “That’s impossible. An object can’t just disappear, and then reappear. That goes directly against Einsteinian physics.”
Leitz leaned toward the two, hands on the table, “You know, a year and half ago, before we ended up a billion years in the future, and before we saw transports that had counter gravity drives, I would have agreed with you. But now?” He stood up straight, spread his hands, and shrugged, “I’m not so sure.”
Ed and Mike were both stunned at the implications of what they’d just seen.
“Do you know what this means?” Mike asked.
Leitz nodded, “Instantaneous transportation. As long as you know where you’re going, the specific distances, and the delta v of the Earth’s rotation, you can go anywhere.”
“Delta v?” Bobby asked.
Ed answered, “If you’re on the equator, you travel faster than someone closer to the poles of the planet. At the equator, you’re traveling roughly a thousand miles an hour, slower as you go closer to the poles. Delta v is the change in velocity, so you would have to know the change to compensate for it.”
Mike looked at Leitz, and then motioned at the null generator, “Do you have any idea on how far this could take you?”
Leitz shook his head and shrugged, pensive as he answered the question with one of his own, “The stars?”
----------------------------------------------------
Chapter Two
Om Varee walked the polished marble corridors of the palace, his ‘bodyguards’ arrayed in a diamond pattern around him. Over the past few months, He’d learned to ignore the Dinshani as he moved through his day to day operations, uncomfortable reminders of his status with the Dostori Rev. They were a nuisance of course, impediments to the many tasks that he needed to do.
The Dinshani were sure to relay everything he did back to the Dostori Rev, and there were many aspects of his life that he wouldn’t feel comfortable having exposed. Some of those aspects were accomplished according to the normal duties he did to serve the Dostori Rev, and, although it wouldn’t matter if she found out, as an intelligence professional, he didn’t want his methods and sources revealed. Other activities were contrary to the Dostori Rev’s goals on this planet, and her further plans after she consolidated her power here. Those activities he most definitely didn’t want to have exposed, because it would be his death.