by Gary Ballard
Within a week, his team had been assembled and work began in earnest.
*****
They set up schedules, working in solitary shifts and smaller ad hoc groupings with full group meetings to compare notes two or three times a week. On the few occasions when they were asked about their late night lab sessions, they claimed to be engaged in an extend in an ded old school pen-and-paper roleplaying campaign. Their cover story made many of the faculty jealous; after word got around, not a week went past that they weren’t begged by another researcher for an invite into the campaign. Others who might have been concerned about the clandestine research, such as the administration and security, ignored the group once the cover story became common knowledge.
Balfour had been contracted by Chronosoft, Inc. to research a more robust power source for man-mounted cybernetics on long-range manned space exploration missions such as the upcoming Moons of Jupiter expedition. Current cybernetics used a generator for most normal operations, while some auxiliary power was generated by the body’s internal chemistry and stored in a battery. The generators required regular maintenance and yearly parts replacement. Long-range space exploration would require years away from earth, and space on those vessels was in short supply with the necessity for food, gear, backup atmospherics and other essentials. The fewer replacement parts needed the better.
No one really expected Balfour to create a workable upgrade. The money for his research was a low-cost crapshoot in comparison to the total mission budget. If it produced even a 10% increase in battery or generator life, the project would pay for itself.
Balfour’s concept wasn’t just an improvement; it was a complete power source replacement that would win him a Nobel Prize if it worked as he intended. His power source would remove both batteries and generators from the equation altogether. Energy, in this case electricity, was finite. One could not create energy, only use potential energy stored in other forms. Balfour’s design was a device that altered a microscopic particle’s vibrational frequency, something theoretically possible only with the use of a supercollider. The resulting change in string vibration would fire the particle across a dimensional barrier and back. Traversing the dimensional barrier would amplify its potential energy by an unknown factor. Balfour’s best calculations put the amplification rate at 2:1, though in theory there was no ceiling. Even a 2:1 ratio would revolutionize energy consumption on a global scale. So long as one could recycle the altered particle through the dimensional circuit in a continuous stable loop, the particle might well generate a limitless supply of energy.
“You’re talking about a wormhole,” Rolfsberg proclaimed when the theory was first explained. “A wormhole through theoretical dimensions that we aren’t even sure exists, I might add.” His skepticism was palpable.
Carl was just as skeptical, but ecstatic with the possibilities. “But think about what you could do with the ability to tunnel through dimensional states without an acceleration process. You could theoretically pipe energy from there to here or from then to now if you attune the frequency correctly. You could beam Scotty’s farts from the Enterprise to King Arthur’s Court. You could send one erg of stored solar energy from orbit to California losslessly. It’s fantabulous!” Heated discussion ensued.
Balfour watched their arguments with a wry smile barely touching his lips. This group would figure it out, would implement a prototype. And because they’d done the work off the books, he felt no obligation to hand the research over to his corporate benefactors. He had always been mistrustful of large, well-heeled organizatied organons, especially outfits like Chronosoft. He was not a particularly political person; he hadn’t even voted since 2012. Nevertheless, he found the very concept of corporate control of government that was inherent in the Local Governance Licenses to be an unsettling prospect. The LGL monopolization of local power generating utilities had only amplified that unease. The first company that could implement Balfour’s concept would put every other competitor out of business in months. They could literally control the entire world’s energy supply. No one man, no one organization should hold that much leverage. He would rather toss his specs on the GlobalNet to be copied for free, just as Takamura had done with the first plans for the interface jack.
Six sleepless months of late-night conferences, experiments, simulations and arguments had taken their toll. But despite Rolfsberg’s delays with the prototype’s casing materials, they finally had a working, physical model, a thin cylinder about the size of a corn dog. Late that fateful night Balfour placed the prototype on the workbench. “I think I’ll call it the mana engine,” he pronounced proudly.
“That’s a stupid name,” grumbled Rolfsberg, but offered no alternatives. Balfour had learned to dismiss the man’s grumblings out of hand. When he wasn’t offering weak proofs for already-solved formula, he engaged in pointless cynical rants on any subject that the group deemed worthy of discussion. The only thing he really seemed positive about was his delusion of superiority.
“Why mana engine?” Lydia asked, ignoring the Norseman.
“If it works,” Balfour responded, “it will be like mana from heaven. Inexhaustible, constantly renewed, life-giving energy.” Everyone but Rolfsberg nodded, accepting the explanation with satisfaction. He programmed in the last settings on the engine’s tiny display, calibrating it to provide power to a cybernetic arm set up on the table next to it. Carl would send movement commands to the arm while Janicki would reposition the limb at various points around the room with a robotic arm to test the engine’s transfer range. All stood behind the transparent safety glass and offered their own private hopes and prayers to whatever force they believed would aid them.
Balfour triggered the engine. Nothing seemed to happen. There were no sounds, no explosions, no static discharges, nothing. The engine just sat there. Balfour shot a glance at Carl. Carl nodded happily. “Readout is green. The arm has power.”
Balfour could barely contain his excitement. His voice quavered as he said, “Start your movements.”
Carl complied, and the arm began to move. Fingers flexed, metallic muscle fibers tensed and the arm moved freely. Balfour motioned to Janicki who sent the robotic armature down to pick up the cybernetic limb. The arm continued its motions as it was transferred across the lab from one armature to the other. For ten minutes, they watched, occasionally staring back at Carl for statistics. “Power is steady. No decay whatsoever. Every bit that’s used is replaced immediately.”
Balfour watched the readouts over Carl’s shoulder. “Is that temp reading right?” Carl nodded. “The engine is generating no heat whatsoever? Are you sure the mou sure tnitors are working?”
“Touch it. I can only tell you what the readout says, and it says that thing is generating enough juice to light this room for decades without one micro-degree of thermal leakage of any kind.”
Balfour donned a pair of safety glasses and entered the inner lab. “Just don’t bonk my bald head with that arm, Janicki,” he joked nervously. He walked carefully towards the engine like he was stepping through a minefield, as if he expected every step to be his last. Finally reaching the table, he stuck out a hand and touched the engine gingerly. Feeling no excess heat, he placed a firmer touch to the surface. It was cool. It made no sound, not even the slightest buzz or hum, not even a quiver of vibration in his hand. Other than the cybernetic arm waving around the room, there was nothing to indicate it was working at all. Balfour lifted it and showed it to the rest of his colleagues with a gigantic smile plastered on his mug. “My friends, we have just discovered the equivalent of fire for the twenty-first century.”
*****
Once the first prototype was up and running, the ideas came in a fevered torrent. Mundane applications tumbled from their collective thoughts like candy from a burst piñata, and plans were drawn up for all sorts of commercial applications. Janicki seemed particularly interested in the commercial aspects, continually asking when they’d publish their findings. He seemed espe
cially interested in the idea of a transitional device he called a glowbug, which would amplify existing power supplies indefinitely. Such a device would fractionalize the cost of electrical generation using current technology, making the obscenely profitable LGL utility companies even more profitable. Lydia and Wong fought tooth and nail against such mercantile ambitions, wishing to release the information to the GlobalNet like open source software. Carl had no real opinion. He buried himself in increasingly bizarre concepts in the field of wireless energy transfer and holographic projections. Rolfsberg’s only concern before taking the engine public, whether open source or commercial, was in getting credit for his part. Balfour had the final say as the author of the original formulas, and he ultimately decided they should push themselves to apply the technology in multiple places before revealing the research.
Balfour’s first thought was a selfish one. He wanted to replace the power source on his own cybernetic replacements. Shortly after getting his doctorate, he’d been involved in a horrendous wreck, a three car pile up that had taken the life of his two best friends and left him with both arms amputated and partial paralysis. A nanotech-regenerated spinal cord surrounded by replacement cybernetic vertebrae supported two prosthetic arms and allowed him full use of his legs again. Despite the insane risks, he decided to replace his current cybernetic power supply with the mana engine, secretly enlisting Janicki’s aid.
“You realize this is both highly unethical and quite possibly ill possiblegal,” Janicki said with a wry smile as he worked carefully at the interface port on Balfour’s back. Numbed by a local anesthetic, Balfour just giggled.
“Of course. Why do you think I asked you and not Lydia?”
Janicki feigned insult. “Are you saying I’m not ethical? I’m almost insulted. Of course, if I was really unethical, I’d have stolen this thing and claimed it as my own. Don’t think I haven’t thought about it.”
“The math’s all wrong,” Balfour replied. “You and I both know it. You don’t think the five of us would all contradict your claim of ownership? Five is greater than one.” Janicki didn’t comment. Balfour was sure he’d thoroughly examined that equation and come to the same conclusion.
“Hop up, you’re done,” Janicki said, snapping closed the flesh-colored access port on Balfour’s back. Balfour felt the power return to his leaden limbs, to his paralyzed back. Rather than the routine feeling of restored mobility, Balfour instead felt a rush of fire, as if his limbs were suddenly suffused with an energy that practically burst from every pore and follicle. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead, followed by a flash of heat. He raised himself on his arms and swung off the table.
Janicki noticed the wild look in Balfour’s eyes. “Whoa, you ok? You look a bit flushed.”
Balfour flexed his metallic fingers, staring down at his hands as if seeing them for the first time. “I’m better than ok,” he began, grasping for words to describe the feeling. “I feel like I’ve got a supernova under the skin. Let’s check the readouts.” He reached for the console next to the workbench he’d laid on but stopped halfway there. The readouts he’d been thinking of were already being displayed on the console. “Did you set up those readouts before starting?”
Janicki stared at him wide-eyed. “Not unless I blacked out. I haven’t touched it.”
Balfour thought of another screen of reports. The console switched to the reports just as if he’d been working at the keyboard or jacked in. He began to run through a series of menu commands. Despite not being configured for wireless access, the console executed all the commands as if he’d been operating the system remotely.
“Now you’re really freaking me out,” Janicki stammered. “This isn’t a prank, is it? You didn’t set this up beforehand?” Balfour shook his head. “Try a different console. Try the constructor arms.”
Balfour gestured at the console that controlled the constructor arms, unable to even see the screen. The arm mimicked his every thought. “I think of the commands and it executes. What a thoroughly unexpected side effect.”
“We should get this on video,” Janicki chattered excitedly. He ran to the video console on the outer ring. He let out a loud guffaw when he reached the console. Balfour had already activated the video feed. “Ok, fine, do it yourself. Can you focus it on your area?”
“It is.”
“I don’t see you,” Janicki said. “Hold on, I’ll do it.” He worked the console’s controls momentarily, looking back and forth from the screen to Balfour with a confused expression. “No, that’s the right angle. I’m looking directly at you. Mark… you’re just not there.”
“What?” Balfour’s voice shook in spite of himself. “What are you talking about?”
“Come see.”
Rather than moving towards the console, Balfour focused his mind on opening a video window. His vision flipped from his normal flesh and blood view of the world to a video of the lab. He was jacked into the video console now, jacked in just as if he had logged into the GlobalNet, only he’d never experienced that rush of cyberspace entry. He was just there. What he saw in the video froze his blood. He could tell that the camera was pointed directly at his position. He could see the robotic arms behind him, the consoles on the other side of the room, the white board to his left, even the workbench he’d just been laid out on. But his body was not there. The only indication of anything between himself and the environment around him was a sort of electronic distortion, a series of film-scratch artifacts and thin static slightly distorting the picture. He tried to speak, but the video playback only spouted a burst of static.
He was invisible.
*****
The rest of the group was none too happy with his rash use of the prototype. They spent precious minutes berating him the next night during a hastily arranged meeting. While both Lydia and Carl seemed genuinely concerned about the unforeseeable side effects that might result from hardware that hadn’t been thoroughly tested, Rolfsberg and Wong seemed more jealous than concerned. Everyone in the group had some form of cybernetic replacement either from necessity or by choice. Balfour got the impression any of them would jump at the chance to be the guinea pig despite their protests.
Lydia’s almost matronly concern bled through her criticisms. “Do you realize the danger you could be putting yourself in? We have no idea if that thing is even safe to be around yet, much less implanted internally. You could get radiation poisoning. It could explode. It might even start draining your body’s energy or interfere with your nervous system. We have no idea.”
Acknowledging the dangers, Balfour countered, “And what better way to find out? It isn’t like we weren’t working up to human trials eventually.”
“We should have discussed this.” Rolfsberg simmered. “I would have gladly volunteerely volund if given the opportunity. You made a unilateral decision that could affect all of us. If you drop dead, how will we explain that to the board?” Balfour doubted very seriously that Rolfsberg actually would have volunteered. It isn’t that he would have objected to the dangers of human testing, he just wouldn’t have put himself in danger. But since it was obvious the engine worked in a human host, he wanted it for himself. “I want the next prototype. If I can improve on the fabrication time for the casing, we can each have one.”
“Why do you get the next one?” Wong snapped. “I volunteer too!” The two of them had already developed an unhealthy grudge. Rolfsberg was rather domineering. He showed Wong little respect, probably because the Chinese man was the youngest of the group and had just graduated. For his own part, Balfour thought the kid more brilliant than Rolfsberg and at least on a par with the other members of the team. Perhaps sensing his own inferiority, Rolfsberg badgered and bullied Wong at every opportunity. The other team members wouldn’t take Rolfsberg’s bullying, but Wong did.
“Quon!” Lydia snapped. “It’s too dangerous. None of us are getting anything implanted.”
Carl spoke up finally. “Now, Dr. Carlisle, let’s not be has
ty. Rolfsberg, how long will it take you fabricate more casings?”
“At least two, maybe three weeks.”
“Can we have five more prototypes in the next month?” he asked.
“Five? What are you saying?”
“I’m saying we have a month to watch Dr. Balfour here, see if he starts losing hair… well, more hair.” He grinned sheepishly. “We’ve got the best opportunity in the world to study the engine’s effects on a real life human subject. If he starts to show any signs of deleterious effects, we can certainly yank the thing out and replace it with a standard cybernetic power supply. Meanwhile, we build enough engines for all of us.”
“You think a month is enough time to adequately test for negative side effects?”
“I think a month is enough time to study the immediate effects. Look, we’re already in neck deep. This experiment is so beyond the pale of accepted procedure, if we get caught it’s going to cost all of us our jobs at the very least. Maybe our careers.” He paused to let the previously unspoken implications sink in. They all knew the potential consequences; they’d known it all along despite never having uttered it aloud. “But… if this thing really does what we think it can do, and if these abilities Dr. Balfour has displayed are typical, we can write our own ticket. The energy implications alone are priceless. There’s not one LGL that wouldn’t pay us a king’s ransom for this technology.”