Gillette uncharacteristically hurried down the hall of the University of Illinois Microfabrication Research Laboratories toward the unit used by Dr. Allan Newton and his associates. The gray-haired scientist maintained a worried look on his face. He pushed open the door to the lab and trotted in.
Newton looked up from the asphalt-covered table where he was working with David Hughes, an assistant. “Ah! Dr. Gillette, thank you for coming so quickly.”
“Paul, I need to talk with you alone.” Gillette gave Newton's assistant a “get lost” look.
“Sure.” Hughes turned and walked some distance away.
“When you called, I had barely gotten off the phone with the president of the United States,” Gillette blurted out. “Your calls nearly coincided. He wasn't a happy man.”
Dr. Newton took a deep breath. “Really?”
“They want to use your nanorobots for immediate security purposes.” Paul Gillette ran his hands nervously across his face. “He left a veiled hint that if we couldn't produce, our failure would dramatically affect our funding. What am I going to tell him?”
“David!” Dr. Newton called to his assistant. “Please bring me the device we've been working on.”
“Certainly.” The young man hurried back with a coin-shaped device in his hand. “Here it is.” He carefully placed the object in Newton's hand. Two buttons in the center dominated the top.
“What do you have?” Dr. Gillette asked.
“Let me show you.” Newton motioned for Gillette to follow him. “I've been thinking about the security problem we discussed since the other day. I'm not sure that I've got the answer, but it might make a difference. We assembled this mechanism only a short while ago.” He pointed toward the electron microscope. “Watch.”
“What is it?” Gillette's eyes narrowed.
“I have been following the work of researchers in Munich as well as in California. These scientists have been working on memory storage and computer processing using quantum dots. Of course nanocomputing or nanoelectronice is about microscopic refining of materials that could be as small as a handful of atoms.”
Dr. Gillette nodded. “I am familiar with the research, but I know little of the actual application.”
“Remember what happened when the nanorobots attacked the amoebas I released into their realm?”
Gillette shuddered. “That's what worries me!”
“Take a look at the microscope.” Newton adjusted the lens. “You can see some of my gizmos zooming around in the solution.”
Gillette looked in the lens. “Yes, I can see them quite vividly. Ugly-looking devices.”
“They could be as lethal as they appear. Their hooks might devastate whatever they attack.”
“You're suggesting these robots could be used for security purposes?” Gillette looked up.
“They could be.”
Gillette's frown deepened. “You're not offering me much reassurance.”
“Here's the new twist. Working with a quantum computer, we have experimented with sending photons aimed at nanorobots to make them more predictable. As you know quantum mechanics differs radically from the laws of classical physics.”
Gillette nodded. “Certainly.”
Newton put the small circular device in Gillette's hands. “I believe this device could equip us to force a troublesome nanorobot to cease functioning. We could render these robots inactive.”
Paul Gillette bounced the small metallic circular piece in his hand. “This thing is about two inches in diameter,” he said. “Will it work?”
“Look through the microscope.”
Gillette leaned forward and stared. “I can see them moving.”
“Push the green button,” Newton said.
Gillette slowly pressed the green button. “Good gracious! It knocked those nanorobots right out of the picture. Excellent!” He straightened up. “Good work.”
“You'll notice there is a red button.”
Gillette looked again. “Hmm.”
“Paul, as we both know, quantum mechanics still has problems we are struggling to understand. When a photon is released, its behavior is strange to our way of thinking. Such a particle can travel down two paths simultaneously. We are still working to understand how this might affect these nanorobots.”
“I'm not following you.” Gillette again looked at the red button. “What do you mean?”
“If these gizmos found an opening in the skin or chose to bore one, they could still turn deadly.” Newton pointed at the red button. “I believe that application switch will cause these robots to turn in the opposite direction and attack the human entity.”
Paul Gillette blinked several times. “I'm still not sure where this is going.”
“David, do you have that experiment with a sample of meat still set up?”
“Yes sir,” the young man called across the lab. “Whenever you're ready, Dr. Newton.”
“We'll use his microscope.” Newton beckoned for Gillette to follow him. “You'll see the nanorobots moving on the surface of a slice of beef.”
Gillette looked in the lens again. “Yes,” he said slowly. “They seem to be gliding across the surface of the meat.”
“At this point, the nanorobots are in a form of suspended animation on the exterior of the meat. Watch what happens when I press the red button.”
Gillette looked carefully for several seconds. “They've all disappeared!”
“No,” Newton said. “They instantly bored into the meat. The robots are tearing a hole through the beef.”
“Exactly what does this experiment mean for guaranteeing the security of using nanotechnology to protect the public?” Gillette asked sternly. “Remember our funding is on the line!”
“We can offer greater security, but we have also discovered how to turn this invention into a deadly device that would kill anyone. All it takes is a push of the button.”
CHAPTER 20
NIGHT HAD FALLEN over the city when Matthew picked up Jennifer and sped off to a warehouse near the edge of Evanston. “Never been to this end of town,” Jennifer said. “We meet in some strange locations.” Matthew answered with a perfunctory, “Yeah,” and stared straight ahead.
Matthew didn't say much. He didn't feel like talking and let the conversation drop. Jennifer apparently didn't mind. She seemed to be as comfortable with the silence as with talking. They pushed on through the night as if they'd traveled this new route a thousand times.
Matt kept glancing out of the corner of his eye. Strange he'd never really noticed Jennifer before. Her blue eyes sparkled and she had beautiful blonde hair. Occasionally she noticed his glance and smiled, making him feel more relaxed. Jennifer had the ability to put anyone at ease. Matt couldn't help being attracted to her.
After winding through an industrial park, the street turned into a narrow road ending in front of a large three-story brick warehouse. Most of the windows were opaque, giving the ancient building an unsettling appearance framed against the black sky. Overhead the moon cast a crimson glow over the scene. A few cars were parked along the train tracks, but the rest of the parking lot was empty. They pulled up and got out.
Appearances said the old warehouse had been used for many things before becoming a storage building for crates of merchandise waiting for shipment around the country. Boxes were stacked up on top of each other and many of the windows had steel bars over black painted panes. It nearly took a guide to lead someone through the maze of crates filling the dusty building, but Jennifer walked quickly almost as if she knew where she was going. With few lights on, the entire structure glowed eerily. Walking through the antiquated warehouse felt more like a journey through a haunted house.
Matt silently followed Jennifer until they turned the final corner behind a pile of refrigerator crates and found a group of fifteen students standing around talking to each other. Matthew didn't know any of them.
“Hey, Jen! Great to see you.” A tall student gave her a hug. “I see you brought a friend.�
�� The young man kept smiling.
“Meet Matt Pack,” Jennifer said.
“Welcome to New Seekers!” The student extended his hand, but didn't give a name. “I believe you're a freshman. Am I right?”
“Yes,” Matt said. “You're right on target.”
“Good. Hope you enjoy the group.” He waved and backed away, turning to another person to talk.
“Thank you,” Matt said awkwardly.
The young man disappeared and other students came by. Anonymity seemed to be the order of the day. With equal enthusiasm, they shook Matt's hand, but no one gave their name. While they talked casually, their questions probed Matt's motivation for attending. Eventually the chatter of the group settled down and the students sat down on top of some of the smaller boxes. Matthew looked around the large warehouse and studied the people who comprised the New Seekers group. Most of the group looked like average college students. A few older people sat on the outer edge and listened as the meeting unfolded. One woman with black hair had an unusually striking appearance. Matt didn't remember ever seeing anyone quite like her. The rest didn't look any different form a group meeting in Matt's dormitory.
“We don't announce our location,” the leader began, “because of security reasons. We don't want anyone to run into trouble for being part of our discussions. We're not strange, but some people might consider our topics to be on the exotic side.”
Members of the group laughed.
“You have to get to know us before we share our names. After all, you might not like us.”
The kids laughed again. Everyone seemed to be quite at home.
“We obviously live in troubled times and that requires more care on our part,” the leader continued. “If this is your first visit, welcome.”
Matt's eyes narrowed and he squinted at the speaker. Sure. The times were perilous. His grandmother had been shot to death, but what were these students doing that required seclusion and secrecy? The hiddenness of the group both attracted and repelled him.
“As we all know, tonight we will again study the only book in existence that explains what has been occurring lately, and clarifies what happened to all the people who vanished. Obviously, we are living in strange times and need something more than a little touch of sociology or a dab of psychology. We believe this singular, ancient work has the explanations to all the questions anyone is seeking to answer. This evening is another opportunity to find the hope you need in today's world.”
What was this guy talking about? A secret book explaining the disappearance of all those people? What a bizarre idea! What in the world had he gotten into! A local nut group?
CHAPTER 21
HASSAN JAWHAR RASHID glared across the top of the massive desk at the general in front of him. His eyes searched the man's face for even a hint of inconsistency.
Afternoon was falling in Ribat Qila. Located at the tip of the triangle where Iran, Afghanistan, and Pakistan met, the foreboding desert town made a perfect place for Rashid to meet a Russian official secretly.
“As I said,” General Vladimir Trudoff repeated himself forcefully, “the Russian Army has been oriented according to your instructions. The attack will proceed as you have directed.”
Rashid's eyes did not move from scrutinizing the general. He probed like a mind reader. “You are sure the missiles are aimed exactly as I have directed?”
“I have overseen the calculations myself,” General Trudoff insisted. “The matter is settled. You have nothing to worry about.”
Rashid abruptly smiled. “Nothing to worry about?” He leaned back in his large leather chair. “Here we are in a desert surrounded by crimson and black mountains where a few rupees buy anything and you see no problems? My dear general, the world is filled with matters that we should all have apprehensions about. Your role is to minimize my concerns.” Rashid drummed on the top of his desk. “No one in the entire Russian military knows anything about our relationship and plans?”
“Of course not,” Trudoff snapped. “Our relationship remains between us. Matters will unfold precisely according to your wishes,” the general insisted.
“Okay!” Hassan Rashid shot forward in his chair. “I will expect the conflict to unfold exactly as you have described. The matter is concluded.” Rashid stood and pointed toward the door.
“Ah… there is… one more matter,” Trudoff said hesitatingly. “The business of payment for these services has not been discussed.”
“I believe I agreed to pay you two million dollars.”
“Exactly.” Trudoff bowed his head ceremonially.
Rashid tapped the corner on his desk. The door opened and a man dressed in a black suit hurried in. “Yes, sire!”
“I want you to prepare a check for our friend for five hundred thousand dollars and give it to him immediately.”
“Yes, sire.” The man marched out as fast as he came in.
Trudoff's mouth dropped. “But you said…”
“I will pay you the remaining one and one-half million when the conflict is satisfactorily completed.” Rashid glanced at his watch. “If you are correct, that business should only take a matter of hours.”
“But, but…”
“Please return when the assaults are completed and the personal check will be here for you.” Rashid smiled and again gestured toward the door. “You retirement is still secure, Vladimir.”
General Trudoff pursed his lips and bit his cheeks. His eyes became hard. “I will be here shortly,” he growled, turned on his heels, and marched out of the room.
Rashid chuckled. “The fool shouldn't have underestimated me. We shall see if the Russians do as they were told. If not, Trudoff will be paid in lead, not gold.”
Rashid walked to the other side of his office and opened the door to his immense conference room. Sitting around the long table, six military leaders from assorted countries appeared poised to act on whatever Rashid commanded. They snapped to attention when Rashid walked into the room.
“Everything is in place, gentlemen,” Rashid said in Farsi. “Prepare for the assault.”
The military leaders instantly rushed out of the room.
CHAPTER 22
THE SKY WAS STILL DARK, but a few rays of sunlight crossed the Pecks' bedroom. The explosion in the museum threw everyone into confusion and Graham came home depleted. Attacks and turmoil kept the city careening like billiard balls after a fast, hard break; Bridges's reelection campaign seemed to have picked up some steam and he was staying ahead in the race. At the least, Graham's return to the reelection office had helped, but last night he had gone to bed exhausted.
The weather had radically changed again. The moon was still red, but an Indian summer burst across Chicago, melting the snow and sending the thermometers soaring up the scale. Citizens were left in disarray. The air felt more like early spring.
“You're all right?” Jackie asked quietly.
“Oh! Yes. It's a little early for you, isn't it?”
“I didn't sleep well.” Jackie rolled over to face Graham. “You were restless last night.”
“Nothing seems to be easy these days,” Graham said.
“You're telling me! How did people treat you at the office?”
“No one mentioned a thing about Mother's death. Even Sarah Cates kept her head down.”
“Really?” Jackie sat up in bed. “You've got to be kidding.”
“I don't want to talk about it.”
“Graham, good heavens! I've never heard anything so absurd.”
Graham got out of bed and picked up the clicker to turn on the television. “Let's get the news.”
“I'd rather talk about what happened at your office.”
Graham didn't answer. With a quick snap, he turned the television on and instantly the screen filled with the face of an announcer reporting the morning news.
“We switch now to our correspondents in Chechnya for the latest information on the continuing rebellion inside Russia,” the announcer said.
“At this time we're receiving reports that the Russian Army has abruptly swept to the south in an attempt to bring revolting Muslim areas back into line. The war apparently has spread as far as Turkistan.”
“What is this?” Graham pointed at the television set. “Do you know what he is talking about?”
Jackie shook her head. The television scene shifted and another face appeared.
“This is Ivan Cransky in Grozny. Many of our details are sketchy, but we are receiving reports that the Russian Army made a surprise move last night and released a missile attack that apparently has started a major military conflict now spreading rapidly across the entire region. Many sources are concerned that the war could spill over as far south as Israel and into adjacent Arab countries.”
“I can't believe what I'm hearing!” Graham sat down on the side of the bed. “Overnight the world has erupted into another war!”
“I had no idea such an attack was even imminent.” Jackie put her hand to her mouth. “No idea whatsoever!”
The television station switched back to the original local reporter.
“And now from the United Nations, we have a report from Siegfrid Swiggum, our special reporter on assignment from Norway. What are you hearing, Siegfrid?”
Standing in front of the United Nations building, the face of a tall, thin man appeared drawn and worried. “Reports coming into the United Nations are still incomplete, but we are receiving confirmation that a major world conflict has been sparked by the harsh actions of the Russians. Apparently, Middle Eastern countries were already poised to protect their oil holdings and responded with unexpected swiftness when the Russian attack began. We are not clear yet as to the amount of damage that has been done, but it is considerable. However, the Security Council is currently in a secret meeting. The stakes are high and the war could certainly deepen.”
Graham stared at the television. “That's all we need! In the middle of every other crisis going on in this city and country, suddenly a war is explodes in our faces.” He shook his head and swore. “No telling what this conflict will do to the supply of petroleum and hydrogen products we must have in our country! Mayor Bridges won't have any quick and easy answers for this problem.”
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