Allie considered this for several long seconds, and finally nodded. “Thanks, Zach,” she said softly. “That helps.” She shrugged. “And I guess there’s nothing to be gained at the moment by dwelling on it. So why don’t we continue with our discussion.”
“Of course,” said Reed, still standing a few feet away from where she sat on the edge of the bed, facing her with a sympathetic expression. “I know you must have many more questions,” he continued. “I promise you that once the colonel arrives, you’ll get answers. We won’t hold anything back. You just need to be patient for a little longer.”
Allie sighed. “I understand,” she said. “Luckily, we have plenty to talk about in the interim. I believe you were going to lay some body-armor science on me,” she said, forcing a smile. “Still willing to do that?”
“Are you kidding?” said Reed. “This will be my one and only chance, ever, to dazzle you with science. From here on out, I have no doubt that you’ll be the one doing all the dazzling.” He paused to gather his thoughts. “I assume that you’re familiar with graphene, right?”
“Yes. Discovered at the turn of the millennia. The Holy Grail of materials science. Composed of carbon atoms, like diamond, but arranged in a one-atom-thick hexagonal sheet—a honeycomb—with properties that put diamond to shame.”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” said Reed with a grin. “Or to be exact, I couldn’t have even said it that well. The thing about graphene, though, is that it’s difficult and expensive to produce, even in small quantities. Even if this wasn’t the case, it isn’t an easy material to mold into the various shapes and functionalities needed to fulfill its immense promise.”
He paused. “You probably know this, but it’s two hundred times stronger than steel. I’ve been told that if you had a sheet of it as thin as saran wrap, and you wanted to pierce it with an ice pick, an elephant would have to be standing on the ice pick to force it through. I’ve also been told that a stack of graphene sheets as light as a paperclip has a surface area of five tennis courts. Which, apparently, makes graphene an ideal candidate for an advanced battery, since energy storage depends on surface area.”
“Right. If you have that much surface area in that little space, the storage density is off the charts. This gives you a battery with a huge storage capacity, and one that delivers its charge very fast.”
“Very good,” said Reed. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a head for science?” he added wryly. “And given that you do, by the way, you should really stop using the back of it to pound protruding tree roots into the ground.”
Allie couldn’t help but laugh. Her visitor had miraculously managed to coax her good mood back into the light. “So let me get this straight,” she responded, rolling her eyes. “You drive the back of my skull into a tree root, and then blame me? Now that’s being a typical male.”
Her eyes sparkled in amusement. He had pulled off a very neat trick. She had been traumatized, nearly killed by both a gun and the hard ground, and this guy had her laughing about it.
Commander Zachary Reed was handsome, smart, heroic, self-deprecating, and charming.
Probably a serial killer, she thought to herself.
“But maybe we should get back to graphene,” said Allie out loud, gesturing for him to continue.
“Right. So along with its tremendous strength, it conducts heat and electricity better than copper. And has a host of other properties that make scientists drool about possible transformative uses in electronics, energy storage, photovoltaics, bio-engineering, and construction.” He raised his eyebrows. “Including a well-studied concept to use it to build an elevator into space. You’d just need many miles of graphene cable rising from the ground and tethered to a weighty satellite in geostationary Earth orbit.”
“Sounds like quite the versatile material,” said Allie. “Has anyone ever told you that you’d make an awesome graphene salesman? You really make the material come alive.”
Reed laughed. “Good to see that you still have a sense of humor. And a sharp wit. You put any other patient who just awoke from a concussion to shame.”
“How many other patients like this have you encountered?”
“Well . . . none,” admitted Reed. “But way to ruin a perfectly good compliment.”
He smiled. “But perhaps I was getting a little off topic. So let me jump ahead to the relevant bit. Graphene would also make an ideal material for body armor. Revolutionary. Not only is it hundreds of times stronger than steel, it can dissipate ten times the amount of kinetic energy. Other materials can stop a bullet from penetrating the skin. But without the ability to distribute the force, soldiers can die from the blunt force trauma, regardless of lack of penetration.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
“But let me fast-forward. It turns out there’s a theoretical form of carbon that’s even better than graphene. Stronger, better dispersion kinetics, and so on. Even more importantly, one that can be doped with other elements to give it the needed flexibility, and twist-ability, for a wide array of uses.”
“Carbyne?”
“Exactly. Also known as linear acetylenic carbon. It’s an indefinitely long chain of carbon atoms joined together by alternating single and triple bonds. But if making graphene is a pain in the ass, making carbyne is orders of magnitude more difficult. Compared to carbyne, making graphene is as easy as making plastic cups. Even so, scientists managed to produce microscopic amounts of it six years ago, in 2024—at great cost.”
“So how did they make so much progress in the last six years?”
“As far as anyone knows, they didn’t. Ask the best materials scientists in the world, and they’ll tell you the field hasn’t advanced one iota since 2024. They’ll tell you that producing an ounce of the stuff would take twenty years and cost thirty trillion dollars.”
Allie raised her eyebrows. “Yet you were wearing a carbyne undershirt,” she pointed out. “So how do you square that circle?”
“Yeah, no kidding. Someone managed to scale it up, didn’t they? But the who and how of it is so classified that I’m not even privy to it. All I know is that about two years ago, the military began issuing undershirts woven from carbyne to our top special forces units, about eleven hundred soldiers in total. And compared to this new body armor, the old body armor has the stopping power of cotton candy.”
Allie considered. This was a lot more interesting than she would have guessed. “So you were told that the shirts were made of carbyne, but not how this had been managed.”
“No, none of us were even told they were made of carbyne. Only a handful of people in the world are in the know. I had a very high security clearance in my past life, and I was never told. Only when I got this job did I become one of the very select group to be formally briefed.”
“So you really are going out on a limb telling me about this, aren’t you?”
“If by going out on a limb, you mean that I’d be instantly court-martialed if certain people knew we were having this conversation, then yes. But I don’t think I’d get shot. So there is that. Still, maybe don’t write any blog posts about carbyne if you don’t mind.”
Allie smiled. “I think I can find other topics to blog about,” she said. Then, after a pause, she added, “So if the military issued these undershirts to special forces soldiers, and didn’t tell them they were made of carbyne, what did they say about them?”
“They said they were based on a proprietary improvement to Kevlar.”
“I see. And is this miracle carbyne showing up anywhere else?”
“Yes, but as far as I know, only for military uses. The van I followed you in has it incorporated. Along with next gen tanks and jets—and so on—involving multibillion-dollar contracts.”
“But why limit it like that?” she protested. “If the manufacturing issues have been solved, this material can revolutionize the world. Why would the military hoard it?”
Reed couldn’t help but smile, despite atte
mpting not to.
“You’re smiling because you think I’m hopelessly naïve, aren’t you?”
“I’m smiling because you’re a breath of fresh air. Despite what you’ve been through in your personal life, you haven’t become jaded or cynical.”
“So what’s the cynical answer? That the military is keeping carbyne to itself because it doesn’t give a damn about anything but power? Or battlefield advantage?”
“That is part of it, no doubt. But as someone who’s been on the battlefield, I don’t think we should discount the value of battlefield advantage entirely. Our enemy’s lack of knowledge about the use of carbyne just saved our lives.”
Reed paused to let this point sink in. “But I do agree that it seems like a crime to keep revolutionary tech from the world. It’s just that these decisions aren’t always as straightforward as they seem. First of all, in this case, the military almost certainly obtained exclusive rights to the tech for a period of time—not by force or coercion, but by contract. The breakthrough was probably achieved in a black lab, or through heavy funding from DARPA.”
He shook his head. “And it wouldn’t be the first time the military has held back advances for temporary advantage. GPS satellites were first launched in 1973, for military use only. This exclusive use continued for ten years, until Ronald Reagan opened the system up to the public. And even then it was purposely fuzzied, so the public couldn’t achieve nearly the accuracy the military could. This was true for another seventeen years, until Bill Clinton evened the scales.”
“You bring up an interesting precedent,” said Allie.
“Just one of many. In the case of GPS, it’s in the public domain that the military held a game-changing technology back for twenty-seven years. But very few in our society know this—or care.”
“Which doesn’t make it right,” said Allie.
Reed sighed. “I’m not saying it does. On the face of it, I agree with you. But those making these decisions aren’t all despicable, war-mongering savages.”
He grinned. “I mean, sure, some of them are, I’m not going to lie. But not all of them. So I have a feeling there are factors we don’t know about that made this a thornier call than we would think.”
“You may be right. Still, I’m not prepared to blindly trust any decision that military authorities make, just because they’re military authorities.”
“Now that we can agree on,” said Reed decisively. “But getting back to carbyne, we don’t know the full story behind its classification. But I suspect it will be released to the public before too long.”
Allie nodded. “Maybe so,” she said. “But I can’t help but consider my own research in the context of this discussion. What about it, Zach? Why do I have the feeling that it won’t see the light of day for a very long time?”
“You didn’t work in a black lab, and you weren’t funded by DARPA. So you’re free to disclose your results to the public whenever you see fit.”
She sighed. “Something tells me it’s going to be a lot more complicated than that.”
15
Commander Zachary Reed entered a borrowed office within Fort Carson with his commanding officer and shut the door gently behind him.
Colonel Hubbard had introduced herself to Allie Keane forty minutes earlier, and had arrived bearing gifts. Three large bags worth. Two filled with clothing in the physicist’s size, including four different possible outfits, complete with shoes, socks, and underclothing, giving her multiple options. The third was filled with an assortment of dinner entrees and drinks, including vegetarian options.
The colonel asked how the patient was feeling, and then proposed leaving her alone to shower, freshen up, change clothing, and eat, before they engaged in a more lengthy discussion. When Allie was showered and fed, they’d have a doctor look her over one more time, just to be sure, and then after one night in the hospital room for observation, they could discuss moving her temporarily to a VIP guest house on base.
They had agreed to reconvene in one hour, and then Reed and Hubbard had taken their leave. Reed had already briefed the colonel on everything that had transpired prior to arriving at Fort Carson.
“So how’d it go?” asked Hubbard, sitting behind a stylish desk made of glass and brushed nickel.
Reed took a seat across from her. “Hard to know for sure,” he replied. “But I think it went very well.”
“Good,” said Hubbard. “Dr. Keane seemed to me to be in good spirits, and to be handling things well. Especially considering what she’s been through. I can tell she’s already very comfortable around you, Commander. There were times when she seemed more upbeat than she had any right to be. And I have the feeling that’s all your doing. Looks like you were paying attention when I asked you to unleash a charm offensive.”
“I was paying attention. But I didn’t act any differently than I would have otherwise. I’ve found that if you want to win someone over, the worst thing you can do is try too hard. So I focused on just being myself. Sincerity is a lot more appealing than false charm. And that’s especially true for someone like Allie, who doesn’t trust easily.”
“Allie? Are we on a first name basis with the esteemed doctor of physics?”
“We are. And just for the record, she’s even sharper than I thought. She hides it well. Probably doesn’t want to be intimidating, but catches on very fast. Not just smart, but shrewd. I think we need to be completely honest with her. Any deception and we risk losing her for good.”
Reed paused to let this sink in. “The good news is that the rapport between us was instant and effortless. I’m sure she knows I enjoy her company, and that I’m not pretending. She really is an amazing woman, on any number of levels.”
“Good thing you saved her life, then.”
Reed nodded wearily. “Yeah. Good thing.”
“Speaking of that, did she ask you how you managed to be alive?”
“She did. And I told her about carbyne, as we discussed. I’m more convinced than ever it was the right call. She saw me get shot multiple times, and only the truth could explain that away.”
“I agree. Compared to the secrets she has locked in her head, classified information on body armor is nothing.”
“I trust her. She won’t tell anyone.”
Hubbard raised her eyebrows. “I’m beginning to think she unleashed a charm offensive on you, Commander.”
Reed ignored her. “We’ll have to take this one step at a time,” he said. “Ideally, she’ll agree to stay on base for at least a few days. I’ve asked the base commander, a general named Tony Cameron, to have his people prepare a security plan, assuming she’ll move to the guest house.”
“Have you been satisfied with the security arrangements so far?”
“Yes. Very much so. There are no security personnel in her room, but that’s at my request. Seeing strangers in her room with guns is the last thing she needs. But a number of soldiers are watching the entrances to the hospital wing and the lone hallway leading to her room. Since no one even knows she’s here, and ‘here’ is the heart of a military base with gates, guards, and hundreds of Green Berets milling around, this level of security is almost certainly unnecessary. But why take any chances?”
“Agreed. And speaking of Green Berets, I had a chance to speak to Lieutenant Quinlan after I debriefed you on the op. He gave you a glowing review, Commander Reed. And I can see why. Not to give you a big head, but despite being a Tech Ops newbie, you performed brilliantly. Beyond my already high expectations. I have to believe that no other operator in my group could have managed to stick to Dr. Keane the way you did, or to get behind enemy lines in time to save her. I know you don’t do what you do for medals, but there will be several coming your way.”
“Thank you, Colonel. And Quinlan and his team were outstanding, by the way. He and I are getting together for a beer tomorrow night.”
“Good thing for them that you were in command,” said Hubbard. “If you had fallen for the Dr. Kea
ne hologram like they did, you’d all be dead.”
“They have big hearts,” said Reed with a weary smile. “They lost focus in their desperation to save Allie. Lucky for them, my heart is Grinch-sized, and I was able to resist the lure.”
Hubbard smiled. “Yeah. I’m sure that explains it, Commander. Lucky for them you’re so uncaring.”
16
Dr. Allison Keane felt great. She was still ecstatic to be alive, and now she was freshly scrubbed and her stomach was full. Instead of a standard hospital gown, she was wearing a pair of comfortable faded jeans, a simple white blouse, and sneakers. Reed had smiled when he had first seen what outfit she had chosen, telling her this was a practical, down-to-earth choice that he had expected her to make.
She now faced the commander and colonel across a small, round table they had brought into the room, and all three parties were seated on soft leather office chairs brought in to maximize comfort.
The colonel began by sharing the history of Tech Ops, and describing the hidden tech war that was now raging around the world, especially between the last two remaining superpowers on the planet.
The woman’s presentation was impressive, and she had all the needed facts and figures at her fingertips. She was clearly practiced at describing the current state of play, which was more than a little sobering.
“It’s all the rage nowadays for Americans to criticize their own country,” said Hubbard, after finishing her initial disclosures. “To criticize their own government. And it pains me to say it, but when it comes to the government, much of it is well deserved. Human corruption seems to know no bounds. And most have come to believe—often rightly so—that this is amplified a hundredfold for those in power.”
She paused. “But whatever you choose to believe about the US, believe this: China has become a totalitarian state, and its citizens don’t have a fraction of the freedoms that we have here. And don’t be fooled by the propaganda. The US isn’t perfect, by any means, but it’s still a bastion of liberty that continues to be a positive force in the world.
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