'OK,' said Saxon, inhaling deeply and passing a hand through his graying hair, 'as you've said, you hold the cards. Steve was the one who actually left the circuit board out when he reassembled the device. I've already disciplined him with measures that are as severe as feasible. If I were to do more, he'd probably quit. He was always careful as a graduate student. I still don't understand how he could have done such a dumb thing.
'In any case, you know the financial situation of my company well enough to know that we're in no position to pay damages for our mistake. And considering the nature of the problem, I don't think our liability insurance would be of any help. But we can try to take this into account in future transactions. And I can absolutely guarantee you that there will be no further problems of this kind. I think that it's in Megalith's interest to continue the present arrangement. I'm afraid that's the best that I can do.'
Pierce gave Saxon a penetrating glance. 'And what about the holospin technology? Have there been any recent developments that might lead to possible applications?' he asked softly. Let's see what the bastard will say, he thought.
Saxon looked straight at Pierce. 'Absolutely none, Martin. We're continuing to work on the holospin memory device, and we may eventually find a way around its fundamental problems. In my laboratory at the university we're continuing our basic research work. We have some new apparatus that's about to come on line, and we expect to be learning some interesting things in the next few months. I've just learned that our new project has had a setback, but when it works it should provide powerful new insights into the basic holospin wave phenomenon. If and when there is any new information at all, you'll be the first to hear, of course.'
'Of course,' said Pierce. He's a smooth liar, he thought. He knows he's sitting on something important, and he doesn't even blink. 'I've talked the matter over with our president, Allan. I went to bat for you. And I believe that I have convinced him that a continued association with your firm would be of value to Megalith. However, there will be a price. We will require a one-half interest in the patent rights on your present and future holospin wave devices, as well as a forty-nine-percent share in your company's stock. Neither is of any current market value, but things do change and we could eventually profit from one or both of these items.'
Saxon shook his head and sighed. 'You bastards are always after that last drop of blood, aren't you? But . . . OK, I'm not in any position to argue. I'll need an agreement of continued support under the new arrangement for a minimum of three years. If that is acceptable, then we have an agreement.' He stood up and looked across the desk.
Pierce paused, looked at Saxon for a moment, and stroked his chin. Then he rose and shook the offered hand. 'Our lawyers will be in contact with you next week, to work out the details.' He walked around the big desk and accompanied Saxon to the door. Darlene shot them The Smile as they walked from the inner office. Pierce excused himself and walked quickly down the long hall, then glanced back over his shoulder. Darlene was smiling and standing to greet Saxon.
All that could be seen of Vickie when David entered the laboratory was a pair of worn sneakers projecting from under the control console. 'Your dinner awaits you, madame,' he said, holding up the warm Kidd Valley bag containing a large hamburger and fries.
They had been working all day and most of the evening to construct the field mockup of the vanished equipment. Where yesterday there had been gleaming aluminum, crystalline glass, and satin-finish stainless steel, now there was wrinkled duct tape, rough wood, twisted wire, red C-clamps, and oddly positioned lab jacks. But the extra set of coils that David and Vickie had retrieved from Sam now occupied approximately the same position as their predecessors. The epoxy-coated outer coils were held in position by wooden braces, and the bare copper inner coils were clamped against the outer ones with Styrofoam spacers and twisted loops of wire. David surveyed their work. It certainly wasn't beautiful or elegant, but it was almost finished.
'Just a minute,' came a muffled voice from under the console. 'Whose brilliant idea was it, anyway, to attach the main terminal strip to the most inaccessible part of the console? Mine, I guess.' There was a pause and a grunt. There! It's done.' Vickie crawled out from under the equipment console and brushed the more obvious dirt from her blue machinist's lab coat, several sizes too big for her. She moved some copper-red hair from the immediate vicinity of her nose and sat down at the table where David had placed the bag. 'Mmm! That collection of cholesterol, fatty meat byproducts, and toxic preservatives smells absolutely wonderful! Thanks. And where's my change?'
'Here you are,' said David, handing her a few coins. 'So where are we?'
'Juff ah mi-ut!' said Vickie from behind a mouthful of hamburger.
David walked slowly around the equipment, checking connections. Several times he paused and used the small digital multimeter to verify the integrity of a contact or the quality of the electrical insulation. He used a steel tape to check several distances, and once gave the knob of a laboratory jack a few turns to improve a position. Finally he was satisfied with the alignment and returned to the table. Vickie was just putting the remnants of her hurried meal into the trash can. 'Thanks, David. That sure beats the peanut butter and crackers I had for lunch,' she said.
He smiled at her. She ought to eat better. 'So what's left to do?' he asked.
'Up to you,' said Victoria. 'Depends on whether we're going to calibrate these coils properly or just assume they're close enough to the old ones for the purposes of this harebrained test of yours.'
'There's no way they could be exactly the same, with all that hardware missing,' said David, gesturing in the direction of the equipment. 'Let's just give it a try and see what happens this way. Chances are, it won't do much in this condition. But if it doesn't, we can calibrate the coils, find a way to simulate the impedance loads that the missing stuff contributed, and try again. We'll do it by successive approximations, one step at a time. So first of all let's give it the smoke test.' He walked to the console and started switching on power supplies and control units. After that was done he turned and systematically examined the coils, then the power supplies, sniffing for the telltale odor of burning insulation or fried transistors, touching the critical load points, shunts, and heat sinks for signs of overheating. Satisfied, he went back to the console chair and sat down.
He moused open the control folder and looked over the dozen or so data files, each with its icon representing a page filled with tiny numbers. 'Let's start with the small-volume field, the one you were using when I got back from dinner last night,' he said. He carefully adjusted* the oscillator to the frequency recorded as yesterday's 'resonance' setting. He clicked the appropriate data file and moused the control program into the manual operation configuration. A simulated control panel of dial indicators and push buttons had appeared on the screen of the control computer, and he clicked on the button labeled There was a pause. Then from across the room came a soft pop, as from a light bulb breaking.
'What was that sound?' asked Vickie, standing up.
'Beats me,' said David. 'Go over by the coils and watch. I'll do it again.' Again he clicked and again there was a soft popping sound.
'David, it's coming from the center of the field!'
They tried the test several times more, always with the same result. Both of them were too caught up in their thoughts to say much. Finally Vickie said, 'Stop for a minute; I want to try something.' She went over to the workbench and picked up a piece of heavy, white-jacketed electrician's wire. She bent a hook on one end and draped this over an upper coil, so that the wire hung approximately through the center of the field. 'Now! Try that,' she said. 'I want to see what happens when a solid object is in the field.'
David nodded and activated the field sequence. Again there was the popping sound, and the lower portion of the wire fell to the floor, leaving the hooked wire, now much shorter, dangling from the upper coil. 'Jesus!' said David.
Vickie retrieved the wire stubs
and examined their ends. 'Smooth and shiny, just like those pieces from the chamber,' she said. She held them out to David, then returned to the workbench for two more pieces of heavy wire. These she balanced on the side coils so that they formed a white horizontal X across the central region of the field coils. 'OK . . . again,' she said.
David activated the sequence. The now-familiar pop echoed through the room, and an instant later four stubby wire ends fell to the floor. He laughed, with just an edge of hysteria in his voice. 'Holy shit! Vickie, do you realize what we've discovered?'
'What?' said Vickie, looking over at him.
'What we've got here,' he announced with a crooked grin, 'what we've discovered,' almost breaking up completely, 'is a unique and com-plete-ly new and un-precedented way . . . ' he could hardly talk now for laughing, ' . . . of cutting wire!'
On the large bed of his suite at the St Francis, Allan Saxon lay on his stomach. 'Al-lan,' Darlene said, as she massaged his bare back, 'how do you manage to be such a fa-mous pro-fes-sor and still run an important business at the same time?'
Saxon rolled over and looked up at her, savoring the view. I wonder what she's up to, he thought. His finger traced the crinkled aureole around her erect nipple. He was getting his third wind, he decided. 'It isn't too difficult,' he said. 'The basic research work that we do at the university leads to applications that feed into my business. And the techniques that we develop at my business lab are often useful for our basic research at the university.' At least, that was how it was supposed to work, he thought. 'Does Martin ever say anything about our work?' he asked. Might as well see what he could find out.
'Mr Pierce never discusses things with me like this, Allan. I love to watch you talk,' she added. 'Your eyebrows are so expressive. What are you doing now at the university? You seemed so excited when you came back from your telephone call this morning.'
Saxon explained to her in some detail about their holospin wave experiments, and her gaze never left his face. She was a remarkable girl, he decided. Talented in many ways, and interested in physics, too.
7
Friday Morning, October 8
Martin Pierce turned from Darlene's neatly typed report, which had been waiting on his desk when he arrived at his office this morning. She was good, he thought. In more ways than one. He lifted an oiled rosewood panel, unfolding the built-in computer terminal that opened from his desktop. He adjusted the angle of the high-resolution color display plate, switched on the terminal unit and logged in, then called up the special program that the Megalith Communications Group had prepared for him. It was time for another bit of spook work.
Industrial espionage was a primary tool of Martin Pierce's operation at Megalith. The company survived by spotting new technologies and sewing up patent rights and exclusive license agreements before their value became apparent to the bigger, slower-moving corporations competing for the same turf. But there were severe dangers to the corporation if one were caught with a hand in the cookie jar. Therefore, the intelligence operatives who were used to provide the essential inflow of information about developing technologies were never corporation employees; they were kept at a discreet distance from the corporation proper. Deniability is as essential in business as in politics.
Modern computer communications made possible almost complete isolation, protection, and damage limitation for both parties in the operation. The operatives in Seattle had no inkling of the identity of their employer, only that from time to time requests from one Broadsword for certain information or actions appeared in their computer systems. After the operation was completed, reports were posted in Broadsword's private encrypted area on the same computer system's disk storage area. The deposit of funds of an appropriate sum in a numbered Swiss account always followed shortly thereafter. It was a sanitary and satisfying arrangement for all concerned.
Pierce entered his private encryption key and the program shifted to graphics mode, displaying a full-color map of the North American continent, adding each of the links leading from San Francisco to Seattle to the display as they were established. The route was remarkably indirect, crossing the continent four times. But that, after all, was the idea. Finally the last link in the chain was forged and the map disappeared, to be replaced by the message User Name:.Pierce typed BROADSWORD, and the computer responded with Password:.Pierce typed EXCALIBUR. The computer then responded with Second Password:,and Pierce typed ARTHUR.
Welcome to the PSRS HyperVAX 98000 running under VMS 8.7.
This is the Puget Sound Reference Service.
Library reference services and literature searches are our specialties.
came the response. This was followed by a $ prompt. Pierce responded by typing RUN UPLOAD, then completed a set of responses which caused the newly prepared SAXON.TXTfile on Pierce's system to be transferred to the [BROADSWORD]disk area of the Puget Sound Reference Service computer system. A pie chart appeared on Pierce's terminal screen, the 'slice' corresponding to that fraction of the file which had been encrypted with an encryption key known to PSRS, transferred, and checked for accuracy. The slice grew larger and larger until it was the whole 'pie.' Then the display disappeared, to be replaced by:
New file [BROADSWORD] SAXON.TXT successfully created.
Pierce then entered the message describing his needs:
$MAIL
MAIL> SEND/ENCRYPT
PASSWORD:EXCALIBUR
To:MANDRAKE
Subject:SAXON SURVEILLANCE
Text:
Establish soonest Class III surveillance on the residence and workplace of Professor Allan D. Saxon. Reference encrypted file [BROADSWORD] SAXON.TXT for details including authorization of related activities. Use encryption key DOG. Special attention to experiment in progress at Saxon's laboratory at University. Full operative reports and transcripts of all recordings to be posted in the [BROADSWORD] account within 12 hours of collection. Original recordings to be sent Federal Express to F&G Enterprises, 1436 Avenue of Americas, Suite 356, New York, NY 10047 within 24 hours of collection. Operation authorized for 14 days, renewable.
Pierce logged off the system and disconnected, folded the terminal back into his immaculate desk, and smiled. There was something deeply rewarding about a job well done.
The balding man of middle age sat down at his scratched metal desk beside the line of ill-matched file cabinets. A sign with the legend PRESIDENT, PUGET SOUND REFERENCE SERVICE, SEATTLE, WASHINGTON stood at a corner of the desk. The old VT-220 terminal on the littered desk of the president of PSRS made a 'beep' sound as he logged into his computer system. The message You have 1 new Mail message.appeared on the terminal screen. He called up the MAILutility and read the new message. It was from 'Broadsword,' one of his anonymous clients. He decrypted and read the file [BROADSWORD] SAXON.TXT,then retrieved a battered pad from his pocket and made a few notes from the screen. He was glad to have the business. Broadsword was a good customer who paid promptly, and the cash flow had been a bit sluggish lately.
This particular operation was going to require some backup operators, at least one a muscle type. He knew that his usual experienced help was presently tied up on another assignment, so it was going to be necessary to line up some new recruits. He picked up the phone and began to dial. Maybe he could get a lead from some of his former CIA contacts: the Company usually took care of its own, even after their people had dropped out for a more sedentary lifestyle.
Several phone calls later he made a connection. He settled for three operators he'd never used before who had only so-so recommendations. It was certainly getting difficult to find good help these days.
When Paul Ernst arrived at his office in Physics Hall at 10:03 A.M., David and Vickie were already standing at his door. They both looked rather bedraggled. He wondered what was behind David's call earlier this morning to request a meeting.
'I hope I didn't cause any problems, asking you to show up so early,' said David with a note of broad sarcasm. 'I know you theorists
don't come to work before noon.'
Paul shrugged. 'Actually, I've been at work since seven by dial-up to San Diego,' he said, letting them into his office and waving them to the chairs opposite his desk. The Cray-4 at the UCSD Supercomputer Center is now crunching on a twelve-hour symbolic integro-differential equation reduction for me. By the time I finish dinner tonight it should have the answer for me. But you said you needed some theoretical advice. What's up, David?'
David took a deep breath. 'Do you remember the other night when I was telling you about the problems we'd been having with our experiment? You said that you had a theory that could explain space acting as a vacuum pump and doing other weird tricks, if the conditions were right. Well, weird tricks we now have in great abundance,' said David. 'Our twistor field is making things disappear!'
Paul blinked. I'm not getting this, he thought. 'Do you mean that it makes objects harder to see?' he asked. 'Maybe it's some distortion in the glass—'
'Paul, there isn't any glass, or any stainless-steel vacuum chamber or cryopumps either. They've disappeared.'
Paul recalled the massive equipment setup that David had shown him and the children a few days earlier. Disappeared, he thought, that's crazy.
'We've been having weird effects at certain frequencies with our spherical rotating field,' David hurried on. 'When I came back here after the dinner at your house night before last, I decided to do a test by increasing the field volume. I made it almost two meters in diameter, big enough so the boundary was outside the coils and chamber and pumps. And when I activated it, everything within the boundary just disappeared. The braces at the edge of the field volume were cut off clean, smoother than a good machinist could make them. And the cut surfaces are concave, with a curvature that matches the field radius.'
'Whoa! Wait a minute,' said Paul, trying to make some sense out of what David was saying. 'First, what's this "spherical rotating field" business? There can't be a spherical field! That would violate several of Maxwell's favorite equations.'
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