The Day Gravity Became Irrelevant

by Ralph Rotten

  “She is not the problem.” Jamie interrupted his daydream as he switched to an alternate camera. There on the monitor was the ugly little beige Ford that had followed her to the site. “Not only is she far ahead of schedule, but she brought uninvited guests with her.”

  Watching the video run in slow motion, the man in the car turned to unwittingly look directly into the camera. Freezing the frame, Alexis marked prominent facial features before matching him to one of the faces from the dock in Long Beach.

  “Based on his recent travel history, there is a seventy-nine percent probability that he is working for the SVR. I was unable to intercept his cellular communications before he was chased away.” Rendering a significant amount of data on the leftmost screen, Alexis gave them all the information she had on this contact.

  “Put a drone on her.” In a flash, Jamie’s savant mind had already calculated the variables.

  Turning to look at his brother, Jack wondered about the move. After all, they already had a small cadre of simulated insects monitoring her entire office. Running through the variables, it took his own brain significantly longer than Jamie’s to come to the same conclusion; Agent Jaramillo was now in as much danger as they themselves.

  “We’re out of drones.” Alexis broke the silence to reveal a serious problem.

  “How can we be out of drones, the shopping list clearly included another three batches.” Jamie seemed aghast.

  “Yeah, in three days.” Jack defended himself. “You’re the big-brain, why didn’t you predict this? The feds weren’t supposed to get this far for a week yet. I’m still busy printing the last of the control boards for that damned submarine you had me build.”

  “It’s not a submarine.” Rendering a frown, Jamie was irritated with his brother’s insistence on referring to the vessel as such. “And I have no idea how she found us so fast. Clearly we need to keep an eye on this one. Unfortunately someone has fallen behind on manufacturing.”

  Jack was about to begin an objection when Alexis interrupted. “Boys, boys! I can track her through her cell phone.” Appearing on the right screen, the red-haired avatar gave a grimace. Really it had not been as difficult as all that. With a drone perched above Jenna’s desk, she had been able to capture her login several days ago. After the agent had stood on the porch for several minutes, the AI had been able to access her electronic assistant easily enough. Despite the safeguards built into the Android operating system, Alexis had little problem negotiating the barriers. When it came to hacking, a dumb computer was defenseless against a sentient AI.

  Both inventors perked up as the video from the camera on her phone was rendered on one of the nearby monitors. Like many people, she kept her phone clipped to her belt. Watching the scene bump about as she climbed into her car, the brothers finally shut up long enough to give a surprised grunt.

  “Oh, or we could do it that way.” Jack agreed with raised eyebrows.

  Taking a seat at his desk, Jamie kept his eyes glued to the screen as he calculated the new data. While his brother leered at the view of Jenna’s lap, the savant crunched thousands of numbers, and examined every angle before finally speaking.

  “We need to push up everything.” He had just started out when Jack interrupted him.

  “No shit, Sherlock.”

  Frowning, Jamie continued. “You need to get the…submarine…ready for flight by tonight. The EMP cannon will need to be fully operational as well. After that, finish the last of the drones by morning.”

  “And I suppose you’re just gonna sit here staring at videos of retarded kids?” Thumbing to the video of the autistic child in the throes of a panic attack, Jack’s voice dripped in sarcasm. While he realized that his brother always had method to his madness, this was not part of the plan…at least not the plan that had been revealed to him.

  “I have a full docket, including ensuring that the space suits are fully functional, and that we have enough blue plasma for the job ahead.” Grim in his delivery, Jamie wanted nothing more than to get to work. Something made difficult by his brother’s persistent questions. “Now go and waste no more time. We will likely have visitors by tomorrow morning.”

  “Now go and waste no more time…” Jack mimicked his brother as he worked on the fittings that connected to the exterior of the steel water tank. Although his brother had remained largely mute on the purpose of the flying water tank that Jack referred to as the submarine, he had been quite detailed in its design. While the older sibling understood the full capabilities of the vehicle, he still had not figured out how it was to fit into the existing plan. This incongruity had convinced him that there was an alternate plan in motion that he had not been made privy to. Knowing that there was an entity in the house that saw everything, he had tried to get Alexis to spill her silicon guts. Rather than get into the downward spiral of lies and denial, she chose to remain silent.

  “So when I want you to shut the hell up, you won’t. But when I really need you to talk to me, you shut the hell up. What kinda bull-crap is that?” Knowing that she was listening, Jack talked as much to himself as to Alexis. Deep down he knew why she did it; she preferred to avoid lying. Not that she had any kind of prohibition on it. Alexis had no Asimovian rules of robotics to prevent her from departing from the truth; she simply hated to do it to the brothers. Hence her silence when Jack pressed her for details.

  “Hmmmph.” Grimacing as he finished the connection, Jack glanced up at the camera that quietly observed him from the work bench. “What? Cat got your tongue? Oh, that’s right; you don’t actually have a tongue, not that it ever stopped you from blabbing until my ears bled.”

  Looking up again, he eyed the camera again. It bothered him that even with the coarse comments he had thrown out she remained silent. Normally he could trick her into a response, but lately she had been uncrackable. This worried him because it meant that whatever she was concealing was going to be bad…very bad.

  “Awww, c’mon!” Exasperated, he dropped the ratchet onto the floor noisily. “What the hell is he up to?”

  Still no response, Jack sat in silence for several seconds before finally picking up the tool. Shaking his head with irritation, the inventor returned to the job at hand. While he desperately wanted to know what his brother had planned, he had a sneaking suspicion that when he did finally find out, he would wish for a return to ignorance.

  “A quarter billion dollar price hike!” Phelps was fuming as his voice echoed off the walls of the Oval Office.

  “It’s not the price that bothers us.” From the couch, Robert Heckler was cool as he spoke.

  “It’s that damned nine year licensing term that is a non-starter.” Shorter by a head, Drummond Heckler turned to face at the President. “This technology is worth trillions, just in the first year alone.”

  “Sir, we need that technology.” As if to reinforce what the defense contractors on the couch had already said, General Hicks implored the President. With visions of outfitting the entire US military with gravitational disaffinity suits, and flying tanks, and flying aircraft carriers, floating weapons platforms…he was almost giddy with anticipation. Antigravity opened so many doors that it would take their enemies a century to catch up.

  “General, you are preaching to the choir.” Irritated at his subordinate’s constant pestering on the issue, Phelps had grown tired of being lectured.

  Sensing that he was on dangerous ground, General Hicks paused. Flashing a hawkish look at Bowles, he knew it was time for the President to hear it from someone else.

  Taking a deep breath, the political advisor considered how to broach the subject without sounding repetitive.

  “Jefferson, there have been some serious developments.” Keeping his voice low, Bowles aimed for privacy as he leaned in close to the President.

  “Oh?” Raising an eyebrow, Phelps was curious.

  “We had an attempted hack at one of our data centers.” Hicks filled in the blanks.

  “Data center?” Rolling h
is chair back from the desk, he eyed the two men. With bags under his eyes, it had been a difficult term for the leader. More than once he had likened the presidency to shoving his face into a blow torch for four straight years.

  “One of our black sites where we analyze data for the NSA.” Squinting as he leaned in, Bowles spoke in a hushed tone.

  “Oh?” Suddenly interested, Phelps was all ears. “I thought people tried to hack our systems all the time. At least that’s what that dumbass Millard is always preaching every budget session.”

  “This wasn’t some kid in a bathrobe trying to crack the login password.” Grumbling in a deep baritone, General Hicks put it in perspective.

  “This was a much more serious threat.” Bowles raised his eyebrows to foreshadow what he would say next. “This time they actually got several bugs into the data center, and not just simple listening devices either. These bugs were capable of audio, high resolution video, and self-locomotion.”

  There was a pause as the political advisor let that sink in. Opening the folder in his hands, he produced several photos that were laid out on the desk.

  “Not only could these bugs walk, but they self destructed when we tried to examine them. Our scientists say they each contained a ring of white phosphorous. Whoever sent these did not want us reverse engineering them.”

  Leaning over the photos, the President could see the small wire legs that protruded from the charred devices. Another picture showed the detail of the drone’s head where the camera and microphone had been mounted. When he reached the last picture there was something that caught his eye.

  “Isn’t that Russian?” Pointing to the Cyrillic symbols on the PC board, his voice held some skepticism. “Right there on the…electrical board, that looks like Russian lettering.”

  “Yes, sir.” Bowles nodded in agreement. “We believe it’s a false-flag effort to pin it on the Russians.

  “Well, duh.” His tone derisive, Phelps scowled at the two men. “This isn’t the kind of thing that Vlad would do.”

  Exchanging a silent look between them, Bowles and Hicks said nothing. It had been a bone of contention in the office since the start. For reasons neither of them understood, the President had persisted in his refusal to see the former Soviet Republic as a foe, despite some truly egregious actions against American interests abroad. No matter how hard they had tried, President Jefferson Phelps seemed to think of his Russian counterpart as being simpatico. More than one reporter had described it as a bromance.

  “We don’t believe it’s the Russians because the device is too good for their usual work. Not only would they not be stupid enough to mark it with Cyrillic lettering, but this bug is way out of their league. Possibly the Chinese, if they had it built in Taiwan.” Explaining in simple terms, Bowles knew it was easy to set the President off on a tangent.

  “Damned Chinks.” Shaking his head, Phelps used one of his favorite slurs. By his thinking, Asians were a sub-species when compared to Americans.

  “Yes, sir.” Agreeing, Bowles knew better than to point out that his wife was half Japanese. “We don’t know how long these were in place before they were discovered. As soon as we found the one, the others self-destructed, so whoever was running these had a live link.”

  Finally finished examining the photos, Phelps shoved the images back towards his political advisor. Scowling, he seemed deep in thought.

  “So you think this is somehow related to the Queen Mary incident?” Slow to put it together, Phelps could see now that the Chinese had intended to use his own intelligence community to beat them to the punch.

  “We believe so, Mister President. The damned commies were reading our mail and hoping to get lucky.” A deep rumble, General Hicks’ voice left no dispute as to how he felt about their Chinese adversaries.

  “I want the directors of Homeland, the FBI, CIA, and NSA in my office in an hour.” Nodding with satisfaction, Phelps tried to show confidence. “It’s time to put some heat under their asses. We need to lock this down before someone else gets hold of it first.”

  Jenna had spent hours researching the occupants of the unassuming little house at Sycamore & Birch. Having stopped only to attend a teleconference with the other case officers, she had been pensive and irritated throughout the entire meeting. It irked her that they would waste so much time essentially repeating the same sense of urgency, over and over and over. No one had anything new to reveal to the group, and the event was keeping her from researching her lead. Still, it concerned her, the amount of heat they must be getting from higher echelons on this matter. While she saw the importance of this invention, the fact remained that no crimes had been broken. Massive law enforcement resources were being poured into this manhunt, yet their quarry had done nothing more than violate an obscure FAA regulation. Finally disconnecting the call, it occurred to her that the other agents were so ramped up by the discussion that they had come to view this inventor in much the same light as a terrorist.

  “Sociopathic conformity.” She spoke the psychiatric term as her mind considered the frenzied state that the other agents were in. Shaking her head, the young field agent returned her attention to the screen before her. Despite the intrusion of the conference call, she had been able to dredge up significant information on the Sparks brothers. Initially when she had approached the home there had been a degree of skepticism; after all, she was following a random image from the internet and the word of a felon with an axe to grind. The lead was so flimsy that she had not even considered the option of a warrant. Even a FISA judge would not grant her a search warrant based on that trivial bit of information. But the more she learned about the brothers, the more she became sure that she was on the right path.

  Research indicated that not only were the Sparks brothers technologically inclined, but they were actually founders of three different tech companies. Additionally they held dozens of patents between them. While she was able to find significant information on Jack, his younger brother was almost a black hole. No social media, no email, no web presence, no memberships in online forums, he was little more than a social security number on a tax return. Digging deeper she was able to locate his college credentials. On the surface it appeared that Jack was the brains behind the operation, at least until she found the disputed IQ test that Jamie had taken when he was thirteen.

  “Whoa.” Sucking in her breath, Jenna had to sit back as she examined the documents. Having taken the same test herself, once upon a time, she knew exactly how hard it had been. Although she had scored high, her performance paled compared to Jamie’s. Examining the letter from the education board she was even more amazed that they had specifically noted that not only had he finished the test with time to spare, but he was a full 7 minutes faster than anyone who had ever taken that revision of the test.

  “Seven minutes?” Mulling that over, she tried to estimate where that put him on the scale. A little more digging revealed that the nearest competitor had an estimated IQ of over 185. If Jamie was 7 minutes faster than that…then she was dealing with a mind on parallel with Einstein or Tesla. Small wonder the college had accused him of cheating; the results were almost unthinkable.

  Despite hours of research, Jenna could find no employees, spouses, or female siblings in the employ of the brothers. Raising an eyebrow, she was curious about the woman who had greeted her at the front door. Who was she? How did she fit into the equation? When it came to Alexis, the agent had more questions than answers. None of the other agents had mentioned a woman.

  With a steaming cup of coffee sitting at her elbow, Jenna was at odds with her next step. While she was confident that the Sparks brothers were the ones they sought, the fact that they had broken no laws made her hesitate to request a warrant. Despite the pressure from higher echelons, the fact remained; these men had committed no crimes, at least none she was aware of. What right did the government have to kick in their door and confiscate their invention? Glancing at the clock she realized it was late; a factor that c
ould be effecting her ability to be decisive. Tapping out the request for a warrant, the agent decided to complete the paperwork, then decide how to act upon it in the morning when her mind was fresh and clear. Plucking the documents from the printer, she dropped the pages into a folder before locking them in her top desk drawer.

  Her eyes adjusting to the darkness of the basement garage, she was thirty feet from her car when she spotted the highway patrolman. With his trunk open, he appeared to be in the process of digging for something. Immediately she was irritated when she saw that out of the entire empty garage, this officer had not only chosen to park next to her, but had done a lousy job of it. Too close for Jenna to access her driver’s side door, she would be forced to climb in through the passenger side.

  Incensed with his gall, she had no intention of making any such accommodation just because some jerk couldn’t be troubled to park straight. What an asshole, she thought to herself as she approached him.

  “Hey!” In a firm voice, she called out to the state trooper. “Do you mind? You’re blocking me in.”

  Turning with a smile, the officer grinned broadly. There was something familiar to his face, something Jenna could not put her finger on.

  “No problem, I’ll get it moved over right away.” Still babbling an apology, his hands held up something in front of her face.