The Origin of F.O.R.C.E.

by Sam B Miller II

  Turning to look at Diane with deep concern shadowing his eyes, Jim asked, "Are you okay?"

  Shakily nodding her head, Diane smiled and replied, "I guess we don't have to go to a gym and lift weights to test your muscle strength."

  Frowning thoughtfully, Jim said, "I think we've had enough excitement for one day. Let's go home."

  ***

  Next morning, Jim and Diane were back at her sublevel 4 lab testing the limits of his newfound ability to close his eyes and sense his surroundings. Their principal discovery was that some kind of noise was necessary to provide the echoes allowing Jim to see the black and white scenes in his mind. Heart beats and breathing alone provided a weak echo but were not sufficient by themselves for clear images because of the muffling effect of the chest wall. They found any normal noise in the area such as a ticking clock, whirring fan, or on-going conversations provided enough background noise vibrations for the sonar-like images to clearly manifest. Gunfire and explosions really created sharp images.

  Diane was also intrigued by the comparison of X-ray images she took of Blunt prior to his ingestion of the active virus to new X-ray images. The pre-virus images showed normal bones within a hazy outline of flesh covering his fingers, arms, legs and torso. The underlying bony structure of his fingers, arms and other bones in his body were clearly revealed in the pre-virus images. The new X-ray images revealed only a sharp, white outline of his body with no underlying bone structure.

  Post-virus, Blunt's skin and muscles remained supple and relatively soft to the touch. Diane felt a warm quiver as she remembered her empirical, personal test of his body last evening and had to admit in a very unscientific way she was sure he felt and acted completely normal. The only conclusion she could reach was Jim's muscles and skin had become so structurally dense that X-rays reacted to them as bone instead of flesh. Based on Jim's account of his reactions and feelings during the fight with the thuggish construction workers, Diane concluded his adrenalin rush had provided the fuel his body needed to become immensely strong.

  Her musings about his muscle strength and soft skin were interrupted when the lab door opened, and General Collier walked in followed by Whatsit.

  Smiling broadly, Collier walked up to Diane and grasped her by the shoulders, saying, "Wonderful to see you, Doctor."

  Looking back over his shoulder at Whatsit, he said, "I thought I'd bring our little friend along. He was beginning to get cabin fever in Nevada."

  Whatsit was wearing his sombrero outfit with his new, colorful bolo tie in the place of the old white scarf. Pushing his sombrero back off his head so it dangled on his back by its draw cord, Whatsit peered around the lab and spotted Blunt sitting at Diane's desk, grinning at him.

  Gathering his thoughts of happiness at seeing his Master after several months of loneliness at the Nevada facility, Whatsit concentrated and projected, "Master Jim, happy I am to see you after so long."

  The next few moments startled the big lizard so much he stumbled backwards in amazement. Clearly as if communicated from one of his instructors back on his home planet, Chrysalis, came the reply, "Good to see you, Whatsit. I've missed you also."

  "Master?"

  Smiling more broadly, Jim got out of his chair and walked toward Whatsit, mentally projecting, "I've been practicing. How do I sound?"

  "Perfect!" came the gushing reply and for the first time since Jim had met the young lizard, tears welled up and ran down the teenager's face.

  Embracing the Chrysallaman, Jim said, "It's good to finally be able to tell you how much you mean to me, my friend. Never refer to me as Master again. You are part of my family, now!"

  Chapter 14 – Ping Pong Ball

  Dr. John Heinbaum hunched over one of the work benches in his laboratory at the Nevada facility, his beady eyes peering through a large magnifying glass clamped to the bench top. The object of his scrutiny was a coil of wire wound into a complicated spherical shape. The wire in the coil had been made from a thin extrusion of the silvery porcelain material used by the Chrysallamans to house the bubble of energy in their power modules. The spherical coil was about an inch in diameter and looked like someone had taken five double helix strands of DNA and shaped them into a ball.

  At the moment, Heinbaum was using a pair of specialized needle-nosed pliers to make some small adjustments in one area of the coil. His movements were slow and deliberately careful. He had spent the better part of four months winding the double helix coils of the sphere, and he knew how delicate the spacing in the helices needed to be. He was so concentrated on his work that when the quiet of the lab was shattered by the slamming of the entry door, Heinbaum practically jumped out of his skin.

  "How's it going, Doc," Lt. Jerome McPherson proclaimed as he sauntered over to where Heinbaum was working.

  Lifting his face away from the magnifier and dropping the pliers, Heinbaum twirled around on his stool and glared at the grinning, red-haired Scotsman.

  "My delicate work was proceeding at a measured pace until you so rudely interrupted me!" Heinbaum replied angrily.

  "Oh, Doc, relax," the big man replied jovially. Thumping Heinbaum on the back with his burly hand, he proclaimed, "You know, I'm gettin' kind of worried about my old pal."

  Gesturing with his chin at the sphere, McPherson said, "You've been cooped up in this lab too long playing with your little ping pong ball there. You need a break."

  Pushing his glasses back up his nose, Heinbaum retorted nastily, "The only break I need is the one where you go away. Permanently."

  "Aw, Doc, if I didn't know you really cared, I'd think you didn't like me," the redheaded hellion smirked.

  Frustrated by his inability to get rid of McPherson, Heinbaum crossed his arms over his chest and remained silent.

  McPherson was well versed in manipulating Heinbaum's massive ego. The greasy haired physicist was extremely intelligent and loved to let everyone around him know just how brilliant he was. Remembering how Heinbaum had claimed in their first meeting many years ago at the Pentagon that his IQ was higher than Einstein's, McPherson knew asking the man to explain his work was a sure way of getting him to talk.

  Ignoring the crossed arms of the scientist, McPherson asked, "Why don't you tell me about your ping pong ball. What's it supposed to do?"

  True to form, Heinbaum eased back against his work bench, smiled haughtily and replied, "I'll be happy to tell you about my discoveries. Explaining my work in such a way it will be meaningful to a person with as low an IQ as you may be difficult, but I'll try my best to make it understandable."

  "You're a peach, Doc!" McPherson exclaimed.

  “Remember how you used the electromagnets to open the alien power module?"

  Receiving a nod from McPherson, he continued, "The more I thought about the underlying physics of the magnet's effect on the power module's porcelain shell, the more I considered the possibility the opening of the alien module wasn't caused by the opposing poles of the magnets reacting to each other. I theorized the possibility the module was forced open by the absorption of energy from a previously unrealized source."

  Pausing a moment as if he was considering the best way to describe his findings, Heinbaum continued, "I developed my theory based upon a curious manifestation. You’ve read about a phenomenon called the northern lights?"

  When McPherson vaguely shook his head, Heinbaum explained, "You know, streaks of light high up in the air. Atmospheric discharges of colored lights which people see in the skies over Alaska and some other places across the Earth. Glowing mists in valleys no one can prove came from flashlights or campfires."

  Heinbaum was getting excited, and he got up from his lab stool and began pacing the floor. "I believe those lights are generated from waste energy. Eliminating lightning as the power source for the lights, I surmised the lights were the result of atmospheric discharges of energy created by the movement of the Earth!”

  McPherson broke in, "You mean static electricity caused by friction?"

&nbs
p; "No," answered Heinbaum mysteriously. "The energy is from something more esoteric than mere static electricity."

  When the weasily scientist didn't explain further, McPherson nodded his head toward the work bench and asked, "What's the ping pong ball got to do with it?"

  Heinbaum glared at the rogue and retorted, "It's not a ping pong ball, you idiot!"

  Exasperated, Heinbaum explained, "It happens to be a specially designed coil of the alien porcelain material configured to absorb or tap into my theoretical energy source and concentrate it into usable power. I was in the process of making some final adjustments to my design when you so rudely interrupted me!"

  Grinning like an opossum, McPherson wrapped one of his arms around Heinbaum's shoulders and declared, "Doc, you know what good friends we are! I'm here to help in any way I can. Just tell me what you need and quick as a wink, I'll fetch it for you."

  Heinbaum knew he wasn't going to get rid of the big oaf, so resignedly, he replied, "Please gather up Cunningham and get him over here. I need a few things for the apparatus I built to test my theory."

  Without releasing his grip on the scientist's shoulders, McPherson looked around and shouted in an earsplitting volume, "Walter, where are you? Doctor Heinbaum needs you over here right now!"

  "Coming," Cunningham called from across the room.

  Looking down at Heinbaum, who grimaced in pain every time the big man squeezed his shoulders, McPherson said proudly, "Found him, Doc. He'll be here in just a sec."

  Walter Cunningham had been 45 years old when he was first assigned to work with Dr. John Heinbaum. He was now 12 years older and his dark brown hair had streaks of gray. He was an expert machinist and had constructed practically every odd device the Doctor called for in his myriad of experiments on the power system of the Chrysallaman flying saucer. Years of bending over milling machines and drawing boards had left a permanent bow in his back, but his mind remained sharp as a razor, and the strength of his nimble fingers and hands had never failed him.

  It took the three of them only a few minutes to complete the setup Heinbaum required for his test. The coil sphere was placed in a specially fitted cradle from which two thin wires of the silvery porcelain material threaded into a small block of copper capped with a telescoping antenna Cunningham had cobbled from a portable AM radio. The apparatus was completed by aligning two small horseshoe shaped electromagnets in clamps fixed at the north and south poles of the sphere. A single thin wire of the porcelain material fed from the center of the sphere into a small hole drilled in the end of one of the cylindrical black crystals developed by the Chrysallamans to focus the heat beam and the silvery cutter ray.

  Walter and Heinbaum had grown to like each other over the years, and so Walter had no reservations about commenting on the Doctor's work. "Just exactly what type of energy do you expect to tap with this sphere gizmo?" he inquired when they had completed the setup. "You've been tinkering with it for months now."

  Nodding his head in agreement, Heinbaum replied, "You are correct. Several years ago I virtually abandoned my attempts to open the fusion reactor powering the Chrysallaman saucer. I frankly saw more promise in the effect of the magnetic flux from the electromagnets on the silvery porcelain housing of the power module. At first I didn't understand the underlying physics of my observations, but after I was able to duplicate the porcelain-like material and tested its molecular properties, I discovered some rather peculiar qualities inherent to the substance."

  Thoughtfully rubbing his chin as his eyes roved over his device, Heinbaum continued, "You know the Earth spins on its axis once every 24-hours. Not only that, the Earth orbits around the Sun once every year. Thus there is a spinning velocity and an orbital velocity. Correct?"

  Both Cunningham and McPherson nodded, so he continued.

  "I'm sure you feel like you're standing still listening to me talk, correct?

  "Naturally," Walter replied.

  "Believe it or not, you are currently moving at a speed of about 1,040 miles per hour due to the spin of the Earth on its axis."

  McPherson snorted loudly and said, "Doc, the speed of sound is 770 miles per hour, and I don't hear any sonic booms in this room."

  Heinbaum smiled and for the first time since he had met the big Scot, put his hand on his shoulder, patted him sympathetically and replied, "You poor cretin. I think the gun oil has permeated your skin and migrated to your brain."

  Pausing a moment to enjoy the angry look on McPherson's face, Heinbaum continued, "I haven't told you the best part yet. Remember the spinning Earth orbits around the Sun once every 12 months? Would you care to guess how fast the Earth is moving in space as it orbits the Sun?"

  Cunningham spoke up jokingly and replied, "Go ahead and tell us, Doc. You're on a roll, and I think you finally got McPherson so tongue-tied, he can't get any words to come out of his mouth."

  Smiling proudly, Heinbaum said, "The Earth upon which we're standing right now is hurtling through space in its orbit around the Sun at a speed of 66,000 miles per hour!"

  Looking at Cunningham with an exaggerated, sad look on his face, McPherson said, "I knew it, Walter, the Doc has finally gone over the edge. Only a long vacation in the psych ward will have any chance to cure him."

  "Actually, Lieutenant, Dr. Heinbaum is quite probably correct in his calculations," replied Walter thoughtfully. "At the moment, I tend to agree with him."

  Scanning the apparatus and then glancing back to Heinbaum, Walter inquired, "I think I see where you might be going with this. How much does the Earth weigh?"

  "Weight is not the answer. Mass is," replied Heinbaum. "The mass of the Earth is somewhere around 1,000 trillion tons. A conglomeration of rock, water, trees, buildings, everything on and in the Earth."

  Pausing a moment to enjoy the bewildered look on Lt. McPherson's face, Heinbaum said in a pretentious tone, "The Earth is very heavy, you military moron."

  The withering glare from McPherson let Heinbaum know he had just stepped over an invisible line of tolerance and was about to be picked up bodily and thrown across the room. Quickly lowering his eyes, Heinbaum cleared his throat and mumbled, "Sorry, Lieutenant, I let my enthusiasm get away from me. My apologies."

  When the big man's jaw remained set in a hard frown, Heinbaum turned hastily to look at Cunningham, and said. "The energy source I believe can be tapped with my power coil is the kinetic energy of the Earth. Kinetic energy of any object is the energy it possesses due to its motion. The energy it took over 4 billion years ago to initiate the daily spin of the Earth's 1,000 trillion ton mass and maintain it is frankly so enormous the only way to adequately explain the number is with mathematics. Add to the spin energy the additional energy it took to orbit the Earth around our Sun, and you have an enormous amount of kinetic energy innately present within the mass of the Earth that can be measured only on an astronomical scale. I theorize my specially configured coil of the alien porcelain material under the influence of a magnetic field will allow me to tap into that vast pool of kinetic energy!"

  With an amazed look on his face, Walter said excitedly, "My God, man, I see what you mean!" Suddenly a frown lined his lips and Walter cautioned, "Doc, I don't think we should test your apparatus inside this lab, even inside this building."

  Gesturing at the apparatus assembled on the work bench, he continued, "We have nothing in this design to dampen the energy flow if your coil works. The machine could literally blow up in our faces."

  Slowly nodding his understanding, Heinbaum's close set eyes narrowed and frown lines creased his forehead. He finally said, "I have to agree with you. My calculations tell me the flow of power from the coil to the black crystal should be enormous. The purpose of the electromagnets is simply to create a magnetic flux field around the coil enabling the porcelain to absorb the kinetic energy. The strength of the electromagnetic field isn't critical to the rate of power absorption. I have always concentrated my calculations on the absorption and release of the energy by the coil, not contr
ol of the energy once it is released."

  Quickly gathering up his lab notes, Heinbaum looked at Cunningham and McPherson, and ordered, "Get the device ready to transport. I think the safest thing we can do is activate it out in the open desert where the only things it could destroy are a few boulders and a cactus!"

  ***

  The top secret military installation housing Dr. Heinbaum's laboratory was located in the Nevada desert over 135 miles outside of Las Vegas. It featured a 2 mile long airstrip and three steel hangars, each large enough to house three B-29 Superfortress bombers wing-tip to wing-tip. All other facilities of the base were buried underground at a minimum depth of 50 feet below the desert surface. The base was located in a large, flat valley ringed on all sides by jagged mountains ranging in height from 5,000 to 8,000 feet. The mountains on the northerly and westerly side of the base were about three-quarters of a mile distant while the mountains to the east and south were over three miles away. Access to the base by land vehicle was limited to a concrete roadway which snaked through a tunnel bored straight into the solid rock of the southerly mountain range. The tunnel was 90 feet wide and 40 feet high at its apex, and its entrance was guarded constantly by heavily armed Special Forces. Hydraulic, retractable stanchions of solid steel, 24 inches thick and 6 feet tall when fully extended, blocked the tunnel entrance.

  The afternoon sun was blazingly hot and blindingly bright in a cloudless blue sky as Walter Cunningham and Lt. Jerome McPherson wheeled Dr. Heinbaum's apparatus out of one of the hangars, across the tarmac of the Nevada base and into the sand dunes north of the runway. Heinbaum led the way, picking his steps with care to avoid filling his shoes with loose sand. All the men wore long sleeve white shirts and wide brimmed hats to ward off the burning rays of the sun. Dark, wraparound sunglasses covered their eyes to reduce the sun's glare to a tolerable level.

  Teddy bear cholla cacti grew in large patches in the hot desert sand. The cacti were thickly covered with whitish-golden spines around 1 inch long, and you steered clear of them unless you wanted to spend the next half day pulling the double barbed spines out of your clothes and flesh. A path about five feet wide meandered through the cactus patches, leading generally toward the northerly mountain range. The desert was littered with stones ranging in size from pebbles all the way up to gigantic boulders larger than a house.