The Origin of F.O.R.C.E.
Page 22
After walking about 1,000 feet into the desert, the path began to angle toward a gigantic boulder the size of a two story house. Heinbaum called a halt and pointed, "I believe this spot is adequately distant from the hangars to provide a margin of safety. I want to position the equipment so the output of energy, if there is any, will be directed at that large boulder."
The location he indicated was on a relatively flat area of sun bleached rock beside the path. The house-sized boulder was around 50 feet away, silhouetted by the northerly mountain range some three-quarters of a mile distant. Cunningham connected the wires leading from the electro-magnets through a bayonet switch to a 6-volt lantern battery. Closing the switch would instantly power the magnets clamped in place at the north and south poles of the sphere of silvery porcelain.
Heinbaum carefully measured the distance from the ends of the electro-magnets to the coil ball making sure the coil was centered between them. Next he pulled the telescoping AM radio antenna to its full length of about 24 inches and stood back to admire his handiwork.
McPherson had proven to be an expert at weaponizing the alien technology. He had created the focused heat ray housed in a flashlight and had insisted on varying sizes of power modules that could be fitted into all kinds of weapons, from hand-held cutter and heat ray pistols to bazooka sized cutter rays with the power to slice through battleship steel like a hot knife through warm butter. His battlefield experience told him long, slender metal poles attached to a weapon were a disaster waiting to happen. Long appendages attached to a weapon made it difficult if not impossible to safely maneuver the weapon in close combat situations.
Staring at the telescoped radio antenna, he asked, "Doc, what's the purpose of the antenna?"
Heinbaum had learned to respect the flame haired Scot's expertise when it came to practical development of the alien tech. In fact, it had been McPherson who had come up with the electro-magnet trick to open the power modules, so despite his impatience to begin the experiment, Heinbaum explained, "The antenna acts as the initial receiver of the kinetic energy from the space surrounding it. The electro-magnets cause the coil to draw energy through the antenna, funneling the energy into the coil where the helix design configuration concentrates the energy into usable power."
Pointing to the single silvery porcelain wire emerging from the center of the 1 inch diameter coil and connecting to the black crystal, Heinbaum said, "Once the kinetic power is concentrated by the special double helix configuration of the coil, it flows out of the coil along this wire to the emitter crystal."
Frowning at the black crystal which was aimed at the house-sized boulder, McPherson asked mildly, "What do you expect is going to happen when you power up the electro-magnets?"
Heinbaum hesitated for a moment. Rubbing his chin with his thumb and index finger, he said, "Based on my calculations, the size of the battery powering the electro-magnets is relatively unimportant. The battery simply has to be powerful enough to energize the electro-magnets which in turn enable the special coil to absorb and concentrate the kinetic energy funneled from the antenna. The length of the receptor antenna is important. The longer the receptor antenna, the more surface area is available to absorb surrounding kinetic power. I can calculate how many yotowatts of kinetic power are inherent in the spin and orbital velocities of the mass of the Earth, but I can't tell you without experimentation how large an antenna is necessary to funnel some portion of the kinetic power into the coil."
Nodding his head in understanding, McPherson looked at Walter and said warningly, "Keep your fingers on the switch. You may have to cut the power off quickly."
"Will do, Lieutenant," Walter replied.
"All right," Heinbaum said. "Let's get this experiment started. Activate!"
Walter pressed the bayonet switch home.
Instantly, a white hot lightning bolt, 12 inches in diameter, spewed out of the black crystal and obliterated fully one-half of the two story house-sized boulder. Perhaps obliterated isn't an adequate description of what actually happened. One-half of the solid rock boulder simply disappeared in an explosive flash of incandescence so bright the men were temporarily flash-blinded. The disappearance of the rock was so complete not even dust remained in the air where the rock had been. The 12 inch thick beam of white light was filled with sparkles that winked on and off and flowed in dazzling swirls. The beam of light blazed off into the distance towards the mountain range three-quarters of a mile away. A penetrating low hum could be heard from the light beam as it flashed across the desert on its way to the mountains.
Walter frantically opened the bayonet switch to turn off the electro-magnets, and the light beam cut off instantly along with the low hum. The three men were stunned speechless, their mouths hanging open in disbelief. None of them had expected such a monstrous release of raw power. McPherson walked over to the spot where the massive boulder had been and waved his arm in the empty space as if he thought the boulder might still be there.
Walking back to where Heinbaum and Cunningham stood next to the apparatus, McPherson said softly, "There's not even a pile of dust where that section of rock disappeared. It's all gone. Just gone."
Narrowing his eyes at the apparatus, McPherson glanced at Cunningham and asked, "Do you happen to have a pair of wire cutters in your tool kit?"
Walter rummaged around in his kit and tossed his wire cutters to McPherson who leaned over the apparatus, grasped the top end of the telescoping antenna and cut nearly all the antenna off leaving only 1 inch near where it connected into the copper block. Heinbaum started to protest, but seeing the look in McPherson's eyes, he decided not to say anything.
Stepping back, McPherson handed the cutters back to Cunningham and re-aligned the apparatus so the emitter crystal was aimed at the center of the remaining part of the massive boulder they had just partially blown away. Motioning the Doctor and Cunningham to move behind him, McPherson grabbed the bayonet switch and pushed it on again, keeping his fingers positioned so he could quickly disconnect the power if necessary.
This time, a 2 inch wide stream of the white light filled with sparkles that winked on and off and flowed in dazzling swirls blazed out of the black emitter crystal and instantly bored a hole the same width completely through the huge rock. Rotating the wheeled cart slightly, McPherson cut a line, 2 inches wide and 4 feet long in the solid rock. He then opened the switch, cutting off the magnets.
After a moment of silence, McPherson turned to Heinbaum and said with a big grin, "Heiny, I think I love you!"
With those words, Lt. Jerome McPherson wrapped his arms around the scientist, picked him 6 inches off the sand and kissed him full on the mouth. Heinbaum was so startled, he didn't say one word.
They learned the next day a 12 inch diameter hole had been drilled into the solid granite of the mountain range three-quarters of a mile behind the obliterated boulder. The hole had bored 2,000 feet into the mountain before Walter had frantically shut off the power to the magnets.
Further testing revealed it was the length of the receptor antenna that controlled the strength and width of the power beam. Any battery with a charge sufficient to power an electro-magnet could be used to activate the helix coil.
The unlikely collaboration between Dr. John Heinbaum and Lt. Jerome McPherson had led to the discovery of a virtually unlimited source of power. They didn't need the fusion reactor of the Chrysallaman saucer any longer.
Chapter 15 - Span of Years
1962
"Thomas Blunt, march yourself to the kitchen and eat your breakfast! It's getting cold," Diane Hoffman Blunt yelled up the stairs.
Walking back into the kitchen of their home in Baltimore, she grumbled good-naturedly, "Just like his father. Never on time for anything."
Lowering the newspaper slightly to peer over the top of the pages, Jim Blunt smiled and replied, "Looks an awful lot like his mother to be claiming he takes after me."
"Humph," was the only response he heard.
"Paper sa
ys the polio vaccine is being given out at the city rec building today, and all the elementary schools are scheduled to go there," Jim read aloud.
At that moment, a 7-year old boy loped into the room, plopped down in one of the chairs and took inventory of the plate of food set in front of him. Young Thomas Blunt had a mop of sandy brown hair and a square jaw-line almost identical to his father's. He wore honey colored horn-rimmed glasses to correct nearsightedness, and they slid down the bridge of his nose on a regular basis. When he peered over the top of the glasses, he looked just like his mother.
Wrinkling up his nose, Tom complained, "Not eggs again. Mom!"
"Eggs are good for you," she began. "Besides, you're going to be standing in line for a long time today so you need to eat."
"What for?" he asked as he absently stirred his scrambled eggs with a disgusted look on his face.
"Polio vaccine," Jim answered with a smile, folding his newspaper and tossing it on the table. "Today you get your medicine in a sugar cube."
"No shot?" Tom replied as he munched on a piece of bacon.
"No shot," replied his mother with a grin.
Shortly after watching young Tom cross the street and begin his regular six block walk to Hugh Hancock Elementary School, Jim and Diane got in their car for the 20-minute drive to her sublevel 4 lab under the Johns Hopkins Hospital Admin building.
Jim Blunt had been promoted to Bird Colonel in 1961, and the left chest of his uniform was covered with many ribbons attesting to his personal, campaign and service awards. Some gray hairs were beginning to show at his temples, but when asked about them, he always joked they were blonde.
Diane Hoffman Blunt seemed to defy age. Jim was highly prejudiced, of course, but he still believed she was getting prettier as the years passed. She still styled her blonde hair in a topknot of swooping curls, but in the last couple of years she had taken to allowing several longer curls to hang loose, softly framing her face. Today she was wearing smoldering pink lipstick and a matching nail color.
As they maneuvered through the morning rush hour traffic, Diane commented, "The fluoridation of the public water supplies is beginning to peak. I'm still amazed at how quickly the National Security Council reacted after your demonstration of the effects of the live virus in 1951."
"Ain't that the truth," Jim smiled. "I'll never forget the look on Secretary of State Bob Lovett's face when he demanded a demonstration of the virus' effects on me, and I took his lucky horseshoe off the top of his office door and pulled it straight right in front of his eyes."
"Oh, I think you wowed them the most when you blindfolded yourself and beat President Truman at chess," she smiled, "in only eleven moves."
Chuckling, he continued, "Whatsit made the biggest impression. When he first pulled his sombrero off his head, I thought the Secret Service men guarding the President were going to shoot him outright. Lucky for them when he took control of their minds he only made them lower their weapons and salute him."
Hesitating a moment, he looked sideways at Diane and quipped, "I have no idea where he got that kind of sense of humor."
"Well, I think he's been spending too much time with a smartass whose name I won't mention but whose initials are Jim Blunt!" Diane snickered. "Anyway, I think President Truman's advisors wrote the National Public Health policy establishing fluoridation of all water supplies in less than a week after our meeting with the security bigwigs. I'd say they were highly motivated."
Twisting around in her seat to look at him as he drove, Diane said, "It amazes me how people accept policies adopted by the federal government. Do you realize in less than ten years after the health policy on fluoridation was promulgated, over 60% of the population is drinking fluoridated water? All in the guise of reducing tooth decay. It's almost unbelievable."
"I know what you mean," he agreed.
In a more serious tone, Jim said, "We were very fortunate General Eisenhower was on the Council. After he was elected President, General Collier was given free rein to fund special projects with the pharmaceutical companies. When the time came to manufacture the polio vaccine, piggy-backing the dormant recombinant DNA virus onto the vaccine wasn't even questioned by the companies' executives.
Hesitating a moment to veer around a slow moving vehicle, he asked, "What's the latest on the distribution of the polio vaccine?"
"It is being shipped and administered on a worldwide basis. It's my estimate by the end of 1970 at least 90% of Earth's population will have received the initial dose and at least one booster."
"What's the fluoride concentration level that activates your dormant virus?" he asked.
"When I was designing the dormant virus, I reviewed several university studies indicating the level of fluoride needed to help prevent tooth decay was somewhere between 0.7 and 1.2 mg per liter of water. Problem is some groundwater in volcanic and mountainous areas contains natural levels as high as 50 mg per Liter."
Pausing a second while she moved a strand of hair away from her eyes, she continued, "I also had to take into consideration many dentists use fluoride in high concentrations to treat teeth in their offices. I finally decided on 100 mg per liter as the activation level. I think most premature activations will be avoided with a concentration that high."
Staring thoughtfully at the rush hour traffic, Jim asked, "You're sure Tom didn't inherit my active DNA changes? I know he hasn't shown any telepathic abilities or abnormal strength, but I worry about him suddenly showing signs of uniques."
"Sweetheart," answered Diane patiently, "In order for the uniques to be passed on genetically without the need for ingestion of the dormant virus, both parents must have been treated with the virus. You are active, but when Tom was conceived, I hadn't been dosed with the virus. I even tested his DNA after he was born, and there was no trace of the unique DNA in his genetic makeup."
Smiling reassuredly at Jim, she said, "Tom will live a normal childhood. He's getting his first dose of the dormant virus today. By the time he's ten years old, he'll have had at least one booster. If and when the time comes, he'll go active with the fluoride high dose treatment just like everyone else."
Stopping at a red light, Jim reached across the seat and gently squeezed her hand. "I truly hope he never has to go active."
Smiling back at her lover, Diane held his hand tightly. "Me too," she replied softly.
1974
Thomas James Blunt got out of the back seat of his Dad's 1972 Buick Wildcat Sedan and stared up at the imposing entrance to the West Point Military Academy Chapel. It was check-in day for new cadets, and his mother and father had both joined him for the trip from Baltimore to the Academy where he was going to spend the next 4-years of his life studying military strategy, electrical engineering and computer sciences. He had considered chemistry and life sciences as majors because of his mother's scientific background, but both his parents had convinced him the best courses of study for a bright future in the military were based in electrical engineering and computers. He really had no idea why they were so insistent about those specific areas of study, but they had never steered him wrong in the past so he followed their advice.
Tom stood 6 feet tall and was a slender 160 pounds of bone and muscle. He had been a star distance runner on his high school track team and was in excellent physical shape. His hair was sandy brown in color, close cropped in military fashion. His nearsightedness was corrected with glasses in thin wire frames. Tom always hated how his old horn-rimmed glasses had slipped down his nose, and so he had insisted the wire frames be curved around the back of his ears to keep them firmly in place.
His application to West Point had been accepted immediately. Tom suspected the written recommendation of General Matt Collier was instrumental in his acceptance to the Academy. Little did he know President Gerald Ford had personally called the Commandant of Cadets and unofficially requested Tom Blunt's acceptance to the Academy. Although he didn't know it yet, the continued preparations for the defense of the Earth from
invasion by the Chrysallamans was paramount, and Thomas James Blunt was to become an important cog in the defense machine.
As he stood on the wide sidewalk in front of the Chapel, saying his goodbyes to his parents, a tall, dark haired cadet walked up and saluted his Dad. The cadet was a Firstie, which is what West Point calls its seniors. He stood 6 feet, 2 inches tall, had large, expressive blue eyes just like his father and black hair just like his mother.
Pulling Tom's suitcase out of the car trunk, his Dad looked up at the tall cadet and said, "Good to see you, Doug. How long's it been? Five years?"
"Yes, Sir," Doug Jenson replied and then tipping his hat to Tom's mother, he said with a broad smile, "I see Mrs. Blunt hasn't changed at all."
"Douglas Jenson, you outlandish sweet-talker! You sure know how to flatter a woman!" she smiled, grabbing the cadet in a bear hug.
Colonel Jim Blunt waited for the hugging to end and said, "Son, I would like to introduce you to Douglas Patrick Jenson, First Captain of A Company. Doug is the son of some friends of ours, Tom and Lucy Jenson."
Tom was not versed in West Point cadet protocol, so he didn't know how to properly react when meeting a First Captain. Hesitating momentarily, he extended his hand to Doug and was relieved when the older cadet grabbed his hand and shook it warmly.
Grinning at Tom, Doug said, "Until you graduate from this Academy, this will be the last time you get a handshake from me unless we meet outside the walls of this learned institution after I graduate. So let me be brief because I won't be able to show you any favoritism after this meeting."
Adopting a serious look on his face, First Captain Jenson said, "During your plebe year, I will be keeping an eye on you. I'll do my best to make your transition from civilian life to the military regimen of this Academy as painless as possible. Understood?"