2036 The Proof: A Thrilling Science Fiction Novel

by Speiser, Zvi

  Sheffy

  California, Tuesday, July 22, 2036

  Lia’s sleep was restless. Again and again, she dreamed of Professor Tsur explaining to her the measurement errors that both of them had made, how a mistake in interpreting the spectrum emitted by the star was the cause for all the chaos she had experienced in the last few months. She called him even before breakfast.

  “Good morning, Avi, have you had time to at least skim through part of the material?” she asked, feeling weak in the knees.

  “Part of it? I’ve gone over all of it thoroughly,” he replied immediately. She had to make a massive effort not to interrupt him. “Your measurement data regarding STA331047B is more up-to-date than mine. Naturally, I was surprised to discover that there’s an identical situation in STA333654B as well. I’d still like to check the measurements there myself, which will require another day. I don’t think this is the time for scientific hypotheses regarding what’s causing this condition. The very fact that it exists at all is an essential shock to science in general, and to physicists in particular. Two stars like that is a different matter entirely. I don’t have any sort of physical explanation for the phenomenon. It’s definitely irregular, as evidenced by the fact that to this day, we haven’t encountered a white dwarf with a similar mass among the hundreds of white dwarfs we’ve investigated. How do you plan to continue your research?”

  “I’m basically stuck in the uncertainty phase I presented to you,” she replied. “It’s frustrating that even with all the resources I could recruit for a more in-depth investigation into this topic, I just can’t think of any practical research angle that might produce an answer. Do you have any such research directions?”

  “Not at the moment. I just haven’t given it any thought. What does occur to me is to contact—with your permission, of course—Benjamin Sheffy, my colleague at Tel Aviv University. I’m sure you’ve heard his name. He specializes in Cepheids and Ia supernovas. If someone can help here, it would be him.”

  For the second time within twenty-four hours, she had to confront the question of confidentiality. Should she expand the circle of collaborators on the discovery that, until yesterday, she had been certain was exclusively hers? On the other hand, even with all her experience on the subject, Professor Sheffy had a stellar reputation as one of the major experts on supernovas in general and Ia supernovas, in particular.

  Moreover, she also felt as if she had exhausted her research capabilities. Yes, she desperately needed to expand the cadre of scientists investigating the anomaly. Something in Avi’s personality made her feel confident he would not con her, nor would Professor Sheffy, and that when the research reached the publication stage, neither of them would claim to have made the initial discovery. Yes, she did feel that she could trust him and any researchers he recommended.

  “That’s perfectly fine with me. Please ask him to give me a call and to maintain confidentiality about the whole issue.”

  Absentmindedly, she shuffled into the kitchen and inserted two frozen slices of bread into the toaster, boiled some water, and made herself a cup of morning tea. The hot, refreshing tea woke her up somewhat. Her thoughts veered between a desire to sum up the entire study and publish an article that would shock the astrophysics community, and the more conservative option of continuing the research with the help of other scientists, aiming for a paper with more facts and proof and fewer open questions. It was only as she extracted the still-frozen slices from the toaster that she realized how distracted she was.

  The assistant rang less than fifteen minutes after she had concluded her conversation with Avi. The call was from Professor Benjamin Sheffy himself. Yes, he would be happy to help. He was aware of the anomaly Avi Tsur had cited on star STA331047B. He hadn’t dedicated too much thought to the subject, as he had attributed the result to imprecise measurements, as was often the case with telescopes. Professor Sheffy didn’t know of another star with similar data. This sounded odd to him, perhaps justifying an examination of the means by which the measurements had been obtained.

  “Where are you now?” he asked.

  “At home,” she replied.

  “No, where are you geographically?” he asked.

  “Berkeley, California.”

  “You’re not going to believe this. I’m currently in Berkeley too, on my way to a conference on Ia supernovas that continues until the weekend. How do you feel about coming to the conference? We’ll get a chance to meet, and you’ll also hear about the latest discoveries in the field.”

  Lia couldn’t believe her ears. Finally, she would get a chance to talk to an expert in the field who might illuminate her on her own cognitive or measurement errors, as well as to learn about the topic directly from the experts, in a concentrated manner. She wasn’t surprised in the slightest that she had not heard of the conference taking place at her own university. Her obsessive preoccupation with accurately measuring the mass of the two stars had shielded her from everything going on around her that did not directly affect her research, including countless messages and emails she hadn’t bothered to open.

  Chapter 18

  Will

  Chicago, Tuesday, July 22, 2036

  Will was proud of his long list of acquaintances. He had dedicated plenty of time and thought to nurturing his relationships with them. He always attended the weddings and birthday parties to which they invited him, always brought worthy gifts, and always took care to conduct long conversations with his friends and acquaintances. After all, they were the source for many interesting leads that he had come up with long before other reporters suspected a thing.

  In that regard, Detective Rick was no exception. They would occasionally play squash and then sit down for a light meal and a gossip session that encompassed the entire world. Rick was frustrated, due to the problems in his personal life and the fact that he had been stuck in one job for too long. This job ate up most of his hours, and was apparently also the straw that had broken his wife’s back when she had decided to separate from him.

  Yesterday evening’s squash game was no different than the ones that had preceded it. This time, Rick thoroughly demolished him, although Will had done his best to win. The victorious grin remained affixed to Rick’s face, and as they sat down to eat, he talked incessantly. As usual, Will was all ears. After all, he might learn something interesting. He had no doubt that Rick had uncovered a promising investigation. It had been a while since Will had seen him so confident, or so talkative.

  He could sense when the experienced Rick was being elusive, taking care not to reveal any confidential details. Will knew he was investigating the murder case at the University of Chicago; the media had reported on this fact. His enthusiasm couldn’t have resulted merely from being appointed lead investigator on the case. He had already investigated similar major crimes in the past. Yes, there was something much bigger at work here, something he hadn’t shared with anyone, even other cops.

  On the night after the game, sitting at his home computer, Will stared ahead while gnawing on the end of his pen. Something Rick had said during the conversation struck him as a possible lead, but had later been forgotten. Something that might enable him to start his search. Rick had completely avoided discussing any findings from the crime scene, as behooved an investigating officer. No, the thing to spark Rick’s enthusiasm hadn’t been any particular piece of evidence, but rather an idea he had come up with himself, which had proved to be correct. This idea had been related to a broader perspective on the case.

  Will began by characterizing the incident. Someone had broken into a university lab. The security guard had been killed with a gun equipped with a silencer. Nothing had been taken, and no evidence had been found on the scene.

  Suddenly, the lead flashed out at him. Rick had made a reference to “scientists,” plural, when he had discussed his investigation into the incident. Similar incidents had taken place. There
was a pattern here. This case wasn’t confined to a single occurrence involving a researcher.

  Will scrambled for the computer. Within seconds, he was scrolling down an impressive list of criminal cases and accidents in which scientists, researchers, labs, and research institutions were directly or indirectly involved. The last of these to conform to the general characteristics he had defined in his search had taken place last Friday, only two days after the murder at the University of Chicago. He really hadn’t expected to discover a similar event in which a scientist crossed paths with the police taking place so soon after the previous one. This time, it was an astronomer who had been run over by a van on a fairly quiet street. Assuming there was a common denominator to these incidents, what did a biologist and an astronomer have in common?

  He found an official description of the studies taking place in Dr. Thomas Lester’s lab on the University of Chicago website, while NASA’s website provided details on the research conducted by Dr. Gerald Apexton, who had been injured in the accident.

  Dr. Thomas Lester was involved in the hot field of developing a means of expanding the human lifespan. His lab was also studying some unclear, esoteric research angle related to the human genome. At first look, it seemed obvious that the lifespan-enhancement study might have been the reason for the break-in, despite the large number of labs looking into this topic. After all, anyone who would find and implement a practical solution would reap a lot of money.

  However, Will couldn’t think of any reason to harm a senior astronomer, assuming that he had been intentionally assaulted. An astronomer specializing in analyzing the routes of asteroids and comets, a field that, by its nature, interested only a small minority of people and involved no obvious commercial applications, as the NASA website made clear. Unless Dr. Apexton had discovered an unusual asteroid, perhaps one made entirely of diamond or even metal. Will had read about the possibility of such an asteroid. There had also been some commercial ventures to locate and mine asteroids, although, as of today, he had not heard of any developments concerning these ventures. Despite his experience in finding hidden connections between seemingly disparate events, this time he could not come up with any ideas.

  Dr. Apexton had dedicated plenty of work to analyzing the complex movements of asteroids in the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter, as well as celestial bodies entering the solar system from the surrounding Kuiper belt. He was also interested in the reasons why the immense collection of fragments in the asteroid belt had never coalesced into a whole planet, as had happened to the other terrestrial planets closer to the sun. There was no mention of an attempt to identify the matter from which such asteroids were comprised. This definitely was not a topic with commercial potential that might justify attempting to harm someone.

  Will was facing a dead end. He could not come up with a single idea to explain Detective Rick’s satisfaction and improved mood. The prominent correlation linking the list of criminal incidents was a significant majority of biology labs. Other than the murder at the University of Chicago and Dr. Apexton’s accident, there were five biology labs on the list. He assumed a more thorough search might uncover more incidents. In the meantime, he decided to focus on his current list.

  The aromatic cup of coffee he made and the quiet music allowed him to focus for most of the night on mapping the various areas of research taking place at the labs in which the break-ins occurred. The biology labs focused mainly on various aspects of genetic engineering, such as enhancing crops by improving their nutritional value per growth area unit, so that they would contain a greater concentration of vitamins, minerals, and calories essential to humans and animals. However, all five labs were also active in the field of the human genome. Will was entirely convinced that the break-ins were intended to obtain information on behalf of manufacturers of food and chemicals.

  ***

  His aching back and the sharp pain in his forehead woke him up from the nap that had overtaken him as he sat in his chair. A quick glance at his assistant revealed it was now early morning.

  As he held a fresh cup of coffee in one hand, he read the morning news on his terminal. For quite a while now, the hot topic dominating headlines all over the world was energy costs, a topic of essential global importance. Everyone was interested in the price of a barrel of biological oil, as the new fuel was called, a designation also reflected in its pricing. The aftershocks following the global upset caused by the war in the Middle East continued. Most countries in the region had taken part in the war, and the major superpowers—China, the United States, and Russia—were involved in it as well. Major damage was still apparent in many cities in the region, and focused terrorist activity continued to disrupt the everyday life of their citizens and had unfortunately become a routine aspect of life.

  The extreme fluctuations in oil distribution and its raging price motivated massive investment in developing alternatives. The most promising solutions were based on the impressive advances in genetic engineering. Colossal ponds installed in sunny areas had been filled with bacteria genetically engineered to produce long sequences of carbon directly from water and air. These sequences were then used to produce cheap and efficient biological fuel substitutes.

  The current price of a barrel of biological oil was $24.65, about one quarter of the price of an original barrel of oil before the war broke out. The global significance of the countries producing traditional oil was gradually decreasing.

  The second scientific story whose headline caught his eye dealt with predicting the results of the many studies on genetically engineered food. The story focused on research at the forefront of this field. The future did look greener, cheaper, and a lot healthier, involving more quality food per growth area unit. The studies were already bearing practical results. The efficiency of current crops had more than quadrupled compared to the beginning of the century. The story also briefly referenced new areas of research, aiming to replace agricultural crops with industrial processes. Indeed, it’s the end of the world as we know it, he thought.

  At his request, the terminal displayed a long list of large corporations dealing with genetically engineered crops. He had to talk to Melissa—she knew this industry from the inside. Melissa, or rather Dr. Melissa Colette, was an independent and unaffiliated advisor in the field of genetic engineering, and had also played a major role in the development of grain varieties that could be irrigated with seawater. The endless pastures of grains in the Sahara Desert were a testimony to her abilities. She was personally acquainted with many people in the field, and could tell him some behind-the-scenes tales regarding the industry. With her help, he could compile a short list of companies that might be behind the break-in and the murder.

  For most people he knew, 6:10 a.m. was not a reasonable hour to call. However, Melissa was an exception, and she answered immediately.

  “I can only see you after ten thirty,” she replied when he requested to meet her as soon as possible.

  He understood that she could not put off her morning meeting under such short notice. Well, this would allow him to get more than three hours of sleep before the meeting, as well as update the paper’s editorial board.

  ***

  The assistant call received by Martin Patterson, head of the Chicago Chronicle’s investigative department, was brief. “Some interesting developments are afoot. Still investigating. I’ll update you later.”

  The call came from Will Thorne, one of the young, determined investigative reporters he managed. Will had a track record of finding topics to investigate on his own. Usually, he worked the field independently and would report back only when he achieved a breakthrough. His specialty was finding connections and patterns in seemingly unrelated events. His last investigation had uncovered a series of financial actions taken by the Muslim organization Al Jamaa in an attempt to undermine the value of the euro, which had already decreased significantly following the collapse of about hal
f the countries comprising the European Union and had yet to bounce back. This time, the editorial board had not heard from him for more than seven days.

  Martin also did not know what Will was working on at the moment, but he wasn’t concerned. Quite the opposite. On days when Will was hanging around the paper’s offices, Martin knew he had nothing to investigate. When he disappeared for several days, Martin knew he had uncovered some interesting lead, and was digging into it in depth among his mysterious sources.

  ***

  The prestigious Dempsey’s Bar downtown was busy at all hours of the day and night. It had been a while since he’d last met Melissa, and more than two years since they’d broken up. Everything had been fine between them, but their demanding and very different careers had not left them enough time and energy to invest in a relationship that had gradually declined. He wondered how she felt about him today. Since they had gone their separate ways, he had not been involved in any relationship worth mentioning.

  Without thinking, he sat down at a table for two, in the chair facing the entrance, but only for a brief moment. This was Melissa he was meeting, after all. She would never sit with her back to the entrance. This was one more small habit he had had a hard time getting used to when they were going out.

  He found an appropriate table at the far end of the restaurant. From here, he could watch the door with a slight turn of his head, and more importantly, Melissa would feel at ease. He found himself smiling with pleasure as he recalled her small and sometimes amusing idiosyncrasies. He ordered himself a glass of carrot and pomegranate juice, and a cup of coffee with no sugar and a little soy milk, the way she liked it, for her. Melissa always arrived five minutes late to her appointments. The coffee wouldn’t grow too cold, especially since she didn’t like it very warm.

  As he sat there, absently observing the people coming in and pleasantly recalling her various habits, she came storming in, in her typical manner. Sensations he had not experienced in a while reawakened within him. No doubt about it. His feelings toward her had not diminished. He still loved her.