METEOR STORM

by David Capps

  The Lieutenant smiled and shut up.

  The turbofan was mounted on a set of stanchions securely fastened to a concrete slab with a built-in thrust sensor.

  “You built all of this since the meteor storm?” I asked.

  Bernie stopped and looked at me. “No,” he replied, “I’ve been working on this for eleven years. I put everything from my retirement fund at Boeing into this project. Good thing, too. All that money would be gone now. At least I have two engines like this to show for it.”

  “Is the core of the other engine converted to electric like this one?” I asked.

  “Yes, and no,” he replied. “The electric motor part is built but not installed. I wanted to get the bugs worked out on the first one before I finished the second one.”

  “Understandable,” I commented.

  We spent the rest of the day hooking up the capacitors and wiring between the generator and the turbofan engine. Bernie made a large pot of chili for dinner and provided cots and sleeping bags for the night. The following day we ran the first operational test of the engine.

  I cranked the generator up and the turbofan engine spooled up. The generator reached its normal operating speed but the turbofan engine was still struggling. Bernie checked the meters.

  “The generator’s producing enough power,” he said, “but it isn’t running fast enough. The operating frequency is too low, so the turbofan isn’t going into resonance. We have only about 900 pounds of thrust. That’s only a quarter of what we need.”

  “Then what we need is a larger generator,” I said.

  Bernie shook his head. “It’ll be too heavy,” he replied. “The plane will never get off the ground. I can fit two generators into the back of the cabin. With no fuel in the wings and all of the passengers in the front seats, the plane will balance. Otherwise you either can’t take off, or you can’t land. Either one is no good.”

  “He’s right,” the pilot said. “That’s why the wing is in the middle of the plane with the passengers right on top of the wing. The plane has to balance front to back in order to fly properly.”

  Bernie lowered his head. “It isn’t going to work,” he said. “I dragged you out here for nothing.”

  I remembered the loss of weight in the generator as it ran in Phoenix, and especially when the load was reduced. The anti-gravity force field wasn’t something we had released about the generators. “There’s a way to do this. We just need to do some recalculating.”

  I gave Bernie the basic concepts and he ran the calculations for a generator nearly twice the size. With the lower load ratio on the generator, it would run faster, getting the frequency up into the resonant range. At the same time the higher speed of the generator would create a stronger anti-gravitational field and reduce the effective weight down to where a single smaller generator would have been.

  I got on the radio with John and explained our situation. The larger generators would reduce the passenger space from ten passengers down to four, but he would have some storage behind the generators for some extra cargo. John agreed with the new plan and ordered the new generators from Ralph in Phoenix.

  We spent the next two weeks modifying the second turbofan engine, replacing the jet section with the second electric motor assembly. The day after we finished the conversion of the second turbofan engine, Ralph’s stake truck arrived with the new generators. It took all of us to move the generators off the back of the truck and into position in Bernie’s shop. The truck driver said he had also dropped off twenty small generators for tractors on the way up to Seattle. We hooked up the capacitors and were ready for the power test the next morning. John had power transistors built by his business associate with semiconductor manufacturing equipment. The power transistors were wired to feed the DC component of the generator into the AC component through an “H” bridge configuration, reinforcing the output to the full capacity of the generator.

  I cranked the generator up and it took over on its own. The turbofan engine accelerated and went into resonance. Bernie checked the thrust meter.

  “Thirty-eight hundred pounds of thrust,” he announced proudly.

  “How much thrust does each engine on John’s Learjet 45 produce?” I asked the pilot.

  He smiled. “Thirty-five hundred pounds.”

  I motioned for Bernie, Ed and Saltzman to come over to the generator. We grabbed the handles and the four of us easily lifted the generator off the ground. Bernie looked shocked. I smiled. Saltzman was smiling too, but probably for a different reason.

  * * *

  Over the next several days we walked back and forth between Bernie’s shop and the hangar, carrying everything to the hangar, including our bedding and cots. Bernie began dismantling the center section of John’s Lear Jet 45. With the first generator we had brought here on the plane, Bernie was able to use his Tungsten Inert Gas welder to modify the airframe and mountings for the new turbofan engines. We built in electric motors to spin the generator up to speed instead of the manual crank system, and modified the throttle controls in the cockpit to control the engines independently. The rear four seats were removed and a sheet metal covering was fabricated to cover the generators. We had to squeeze past the generators in order to get to the lavatory in the back of the plane, but that was a minor inconvenience.

  Finally, everything had come together. The pilot and copilot taxied out to the main runway and made several dry runs, accelerating rapidly and then shutting the engines down before they reached the end of the runway. The pilot and copilot taxied back to the beginning of the main runway again and paused. John’s Lear Jet 45 accelerated quickly and halfway down the runway gracefully took to the air. The plane made a gentle sweeping turn to the left, circling the airport, and realigned with the runway for its landing. On final approach the plane appeared to drop too quickly and would have hit the ground before the beginning of the runway. The wheels of the plane were touching the weeds in the field before the plane pulled away from the ground at the last second. The pilot flew over the runway and swung around for a second attempt at landing. The second time the plane came in faster and took most of the runway to land. When the plane returned to the hangar and stopped, the pilot and copilot emerged from the cabin.

  “What happened?” Bernie asked. “It looked like you were in trouble during the first landing.”

  “We were,” the pilot said. “We backed the engines down like we would normally, but the generators regained too much of their weight and the plane became too heavy. We had to increase speed in order to overcome the extra weight.”

  “That’s why the long landing on the second approach,” Bernie said.

  “Exactly,” the pilot replied. “As long as we keep the generators running at the higher speed we don’t have a weight problem. We can’t slow the generators down until we’re actually on the ground. It makes for a longer landing requirement, but it’s still workable. It means we need the same length runway to land as we do to take off.”

  “Which is?” I asked.

  “About a mile,” the pilot replied.

  We went through a thorough check out of the plane again. Everything was holding together perfectly. The next day the pilot and copilot took the plane for a more extensive flight test up to 40,000 feet and increasingly sharp turns. The following day we checked everything again. The final flight test involved near acrobatic maneuvers for which I was happy to be watching from solid ground. One final inspection of the airframe and engine mounts and John’s new electrically powered Lear Jet 45 was ready for service.

  Bernie formed the Seattle Turbofan Cooperative and John helped with the financing. Bernie was paid for his development work and conversion of John’s learJet45. He was also given a sizable grant and a one hundred year loan to build engines and convert existing aircraft to electric engines.

  * * *

  As soon as we landed in Denver John met us at the airport.

  “There are some situations we need to address immediately,” he said. �
�I’ve been in radio contact with people in Japan, China, Great Britain, Germany and France. They need our help.”

  “So what do you want us to do?” I asked.

  “The four of you make a good team,” John said, “I need you to make some deliveries and share your experience in Phoenix about recovering nuclear reactors with other countries.”

  I looked at Ed, Tia and Saltzman. They all seemed to be in agreement.

  “When do we leave?” I asked.

  “Ordinarily I would say as soon as the plane is refueled, but since that is no longer necessary, how about now?”

  “We could use some rest and something to eat,” I replied.

  “Of course you could,” John said with a smile. “How about first thing tomorrow morning?”

  * * *

  The following morning we flew to Phoenix and loaded a magnetic generator and one radiation suit into the cargo space of John’s Lear Jet 45. It turns out we weren’t the only ones who stored their radiation suits at the nuclear power plants. Twelve hours later we landed in Shizuhama Japan.

  The land was flat with thousands of burned out buildings – the remains of Shizuhama City. The runway had been cleared and a small section of the terminal had been rebuilt. To the southeast was the ocean, dotted with small fishing boats.

  We were greeted by a group of men in dark gray business suits who bowed as we got off the plane. We bowed in return. One man stepped forward and spoke in broken English. It was difficult to get exactly what he wanted to say. Saltzman stepped forward and spoke to them in Japanese. I had been sensing there was a lot more to Saltzman than he was letting on, but this came as a pleasant surprise.

  “He wants to know if the new generator really works,” Saltzman said.

  I held out my arm toward the door to the plane. Saltzman spoke and invited them onto the plane. Saltzman showed them the generator mounted in the middle of the plane and took them around to the turbofan engines and pointed inside the engine as he explained how the generator powered the entire plane. The Japanese men smiled excitedly, nodded and bowed repeatedly. We opened the cargo door and showed them the generator we had brought to them, as well as the radiation suit.

  I could feel the gratitude and relief they were experiencing. They brought a roller cart over to the plane and unloaded the generator. One of the men carried the radiation suit proudly at the head of the procession. Saltzman explained what had to be done at the nuclear reactor site while we ate fish and rice, with some warm Sake to drink.

  We spent the night in a clean comfortable room and rode bicycles south to the nuclear power plant in the morning. The Hamaoka Nuclear Power Plant was built on the shore of the Enshu Sea and was surrounded by a massive steel and concrete sea wall that protected the power plant from Tsunamis. Unfortunately, it provided no protection from the meteor storm. Still. There was no major damage to the power plant itself.

  The generator was already there. Saltzman explained that the men had moved the generator during the night so as to not waste time. The wires were run and everything was hooked up as directed. I was given the honor of cranking the generator. Once the generator came up to speed and was running on its own, the man wearing the radiation suit ran into the reactor building and returned two minutes later.

  Saltzman translated. “He says water is flowing into the cooling pools. They have retrieved all of the radiation suits from the power plant and wish to return our suit.”

  One man came forward and bowed, offering me the carefully folded radiation suit. I bowed in return and gratefully accepted the suit. We returned to the airport and were treated to another dinner of fish, rice and Sake. The leader of the Japanese group spoke to Saltzman.

  “He wants to know what they can do in return for the generator,” Saltzman said.

  “Oh,” I said, “I almost forgot.”

  I ran to the plane and brought the drawings John had put together containing all of the information regarding the Magnetic Effect Generators. I bowed and offered the drawings to the leader. He gratefully accepted the drawings. We unrolled the drawings on the short table after we had finished dinner. Saltzman went over the drawings and explained what everything said. The leader dutifully wrote the translations in Japanese on the drawings. The session lasted until three in the morning.

  “He is asking again what they can do in return for the generator and the designs,” Saltzman said.

  “Tell him the generator is a gift from John and he hopes we can be friends,” I said. “The designs for the generators are also a gift, but they come with one condition: they have to be given to anyone who wants them at no cost. The price for the designs is that they have to help others without anything in return. Ask him if those terms are agreeable to him.”

  The leader and Saltzman spoke briefly and bowed to one another.

  “He says it will be his great honor to do as you ask and he extends his strong friendship to you and to John.”

  The leader and I bowed and shook hands.

  The following morning our four-person team headed back to Phoenix. After a night’s rest, we flew to Qinshan, China with another generator and our radiation suit. This time the group that met us was much larger. The leader of the group introduced himself in perfect English.

  “Esteemed gentlemen and lady, welcome to China,” he said, “I am Eric Chang.”

  I bowed slightly. “Mister Chang,” I said, “I am curious. If you don’t mind my asking, how did you get the name Eric?”

  He smiled. “It stems from my days at Harvard,” he said. “I was young and daring in those days. In order to stand out and be remembered, I dyed my hair bright red. It didn’t take long before everyone began calling me Eric the Red, so I adopted the name.”

  “And what was your major?” I asked.

  “Political science and law,” he answered. “I am this region’s Premier.” He looked at the engines on John’s plane.

  “The engines are electric,” I said. “No fuel limitations. Would you like a closer look?”

  “I would, if you don’t mind,” he replied.

  I explained how the engines were based on a resonant motor design, which we were happy to share with him. I also showed him the generators inside the plane and gave him the drawing package and technical information on how to build the generators. He showed us into a conference room at the airport and provided us with an excellent meal.

  “I see the generators are made with neodymium,” Eric said. “We have no neodymium deposits in China, so I am afraid these designs will do us little good.”

  I sensed he was being a little deceptive and was interested in negotiating a lot more than getting China’s nuclear reactors back under control. I glanced at Saltzman. He was looking around and seemed to be paying little attention to the conversation. Eric spoke to several of his men in the room in Chinese who immediately left the room.

  “I seem to recall that China was one of the world’s largest super magnet manufacturing centers,” I said. “How many of the super magnet factories survived the meteor storm and fires?”

  Eric paused, walked over to the door, opened it and spoke in Chinese again to someone in the hall.

  “Please forgive my rudeness,” Eric said as he returned. “As Premier there are many things I must attend to as the day progresses. To answer your question, we have seven large super magnet facilities that are potentially functional, once electricity has been restored. One of them is not far from here. I could arrange a tour if you are so inclined.”

  “We would be honored,” I replied.

  As we exited the building, a small fleet of bicycle-powered rickshaws were waiting for us. We climbed in, two to a rickshaw, and were off to see the super magnet factory. Tia and I sat together with Ed and Saltzman in another. Half an hour later we arrived at the factory. Places in the brick walls had been repaired recently and the roof was still in the process of being fixed. We entered through a large open bay door.

  The inside of the building was quite modern and meticulo
usly clean.

  “These are the kilns,” Eric said as he pointed to a long row of six foot diameter cylindrical pieces of equipment. “The sintering process takes different amounts of time, depending on how strong the magnets need to be. I assume we are talking N-52 grade magnets?”

  I smiled. “We are,” I replied. Eric knew his stuff.

  “And over here is the machining center,” Eric said as he led us into the next section of the factory. The large grinding machines were clean and appeared ready for production. “We have sufficient reserves of iron, cobalt and boron in China,” Eric continued, “If we had a reliable supply of neodymium, we would be in good shape.”

  The United States was one of the world’s largest suppliers of neodymium in the world. John had briefed me on what we would be willing to offer in the way of trade.

  “We would be able to supply sufficient amounts of neodymium,” I offered, “If you would be willing to make half of the shipment into super magnets for us, you could use the other half for your own use here in China or as exports, whichever you choose."

  Eric studied me closely and spoke to one of his associates in Chinese.

  “Your offer is acceptable to us,” Eric replied. “When would you be able to ship the mineral?”

  I paused. That was one answer I didn’t have.

  Saltzman spoke up. “I believe we could have the mineral here in about three months.”

  Eric looked at Saltzman. “Excellent,” he replied. “We have a deal.”

  As we left the building I whispered to Saltzman, “What going on?”

  “Not here,” he whispered back.

  The rickshaws took us to the nuclear reactor where Eric already had the generator hooked up. I handed him the radiation suit. He passed it on to one of his associates who put the suit on and walked into the reactor building. Several minutes later he emerged carrying six new radiation suits. Eric’s team quickly suited up and pulled the long wires into the reactor building. Ten minutes later they returned. We cranked the generator up and one man went back into the reactor building to verify that water was flowing into the cooling pool. It was. Eric handed our radiation suit back to us with his thanks. The rickshaws carried us back to the plane.