The Hammer of Amalynth

by Michael Galloway

  “So this is how he wants to go out?” He said with a heaviness in his voice. “Old Testament style?”

  John first aimed the cell phone at Madeline to make sure she was okay. Then he aimed it in front of them and walked toward a work desk. Along the way he swept the shards of broken glass out of his hair as other pieces of glass crunched underfoot.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t touch anything,” Madeline said as she grabbed the bottom of John’s shirt.

  “The whole room might be electrified for all we know. But I am going to take pictures,” he replied. He was determined to get some kind of information out of this experience regardless of how long it took.

  “Just don’t put your fingerprints on anything whatever you do.”

  John swept his phone just above the top of the first desk and took pictures every few seconds. Papers were piled on the desk and several circuit boards that could fit in the palm of his hand rested on top of those. Many of the papers had circuit diagrams, specifications, and handwritten notes on them. There were diagrams of innovative solar cell designs and even sketches of wireless power devices.

  On the workbench were multiple circuit boards. Yellow wires with alligator clips were connected to some of them and one pair of wires was connected to an oscilloscope. Another part of the table held piles of tiny metallic legs, all identical in size and shape, as if they waited to be assembled into a sinister new creation. Next to one of the piles of legs was a beetle-like object made of metal.

  “I wonder what this is for,” John said as he took pictures of the device. The beetle-like device was an inch-long and overturned onto its back. Its wings were removed and sat next to it.

  Madeline pulled out her cell phone and lit up another workbench. “John, take a look at this.”

  He stood next to her and looked down at a pair of newspaper clippings and more handwritten notes. The name “Dr. Minton” was scribbled on a Post-It note and underneath it was a phone number. He took a picture. Another article mentioned Pastor Cordell. Still another clipping was a printout of an old article he read years ago online. The subject of the article made him hesitate.

  “Odd. There’s an article here about Dr. Ferganut.” He looked up. “How does this guy know Dr. Ferganut?”

  Madeline turned away and shone her cell phone toward the doorway. “Maybe we should get going.”

  “Don’t you care? Dr. Ferganut is an inventor. He created the sensors I use in my rockets. This guy’s famous.”

  “I know who he is,” she said dismissively.

  “Then why are you so crabby about it?” He turned his attention back toward the pile of mechanical legs. “Wait a minute.” He reached over and picked up the metallic beetle.

  “John. Don’t.”

  He held the beetle until it shone in the meager light of his cell phone. “I remember reading about these. There was a fire up near the boundary waters in northern Minnesota years ago. They knew it was probably arson but they never could track down who did it. A newspaper interviewed Dr. Ferganut and he kept insisting there were little metal beetles setting the fires. But they could never find conclusive evidence because the fire was too intense.”

  Madeline put a foot into the doorway where Dr. Amalynth escaped. “Have you got what you need? I think we should leave.”

  “Hold it. This guy nearly kills us and now you want to leave? I don’t get it.”

  John then caught sight of a pair of open cardboard boxes underneath one of the workbenches. “Hey, check this out.” He set the beetle down and shone his cell phone light into the first box. On top was a picture of Dr. Amalynth next to a beautiful woman with silky black hair and a flowing cranberry-red dress. They stood together in front of an apple orchard. “How much you wanna bet this is his wife?” He picked the picture up and examined it closer before setting it down. He then knelt down and peered back into the box.

  “John, stop touching things! Let’s go!” Madeline’s voice became insistent, almost to the point of whining.

  “No, look. There’s fiber in here. Spools of it. Looks like the carbon nanotube thread I found. And…rocket parts. Hey, what’s this in the other box? Looks like a drone.” He snapped a dozen pictures right on the spot.

  “John, I think the threat is over.” She left through the doorway and put a foot onto the bottom stair.

  “I doubt it.” He could feel the irritation rising in his thoughts again and he made sure she heard it in his voice. His hands began to tremble and caused the light from his cell phone to cast shadows that jittered about.

  “It doesn’t matter. He’s been exposed. Maybe I should call the cops.”

  “Don’t bother. Nobody will believe us. They didn’t believe Dr. Ferganut did they? Why is it a few minutes ago you were the one who was worried and now it’s like you don’t even care.”

  She gave him a bitter but stressed look. “Why are you getting so angry all of a sudden?”

  The question threw him off track. She was right. He was getting angrier by the minute and the thought of where those feelings were leading unsettled him. In a strange way, he could almost relate to the maelstrom of emotions Dr. Amalynth once went through with the loss of his wife. Yet the thought of turning into someone like Dr. Amalynth made him back away from the cardboard boxes and take a deep breath.

  He stood up and shone his makeshift cell phone flashlight back toward the cage in the center of the room. He walked toward it and looked closely at its surface.

  “Now what?” She asked, obviously irritated.

  “The more I look at this cage the less it looks like a mesh. Come here. Look at this.”

  “No. I’m leaving. Goodbye.”

  He snapped a picture anyway since the material looked as if it was made out of dense spider web-like material. He joined Madeline on the stairs and together they climbed up only to find themselves on a different side of the church. In less than a minute they discovered the way back to the main entrance.

  Madeline swung the door open with a bang and stepped outside. The chain on the door dropped to the ground with a crash. Dr. Amalynth and his white pickup truck were gone. She let out a sigh and began to walk back to her car with a sense of defeat in her gait. The rain was gentle now although an occasional growl of thunder kept their guard up.

  John tucked his cell phone into his pocket and caught up to her. He held her hand the entire time but he could tell by the look in her eyes that all she wanted to do was to go home and get cleaned up.

  When she reached her car he gave her a hug and a kiss. He then headed to his truck. Before he climbed inside he called out to her. “Who do you think Dr. Minton is? Is he another counselor?”

  Madeline shrugged and said, “You should look it up.” She climbed into her car without another word.

  Confused, John got into his truck and started the engine. He typed the name into the notes application on his phone to research it at a later time.

  Chapter Twelve

  John stood with his back against the wall and his hands in his pockets until Pastor Cordell hung up the phone. When the office door opened the pastor leaned out into the hallway and waved John into the church office. John sat down across from the pastor with the pastor’s work desk between them. On the desk were two Bible study books, a stack of weekly bulletins, several binders full of papers, a laptop computer, and a Denver Broncos coffee mug full of pens and pencils. On the corner of the desk was a rock with the words “St. Andrew’s Church” and “Built on the Rock” painted on it.

  The pastor first stared at his laptop screen as if to check something and then turned to face John. “You…wanted to see me?” He said as he twirled a pen between his fingertips.

  John took a deep breath. There was no easy way to approach the subject and he was sure the pastor had heard what he was about to say a thousand times before. He avoided eye contact. “I’m getting stuck on my Bible reading.”

  Pastor Cordell drew back. He looked up toward the ceiling for a moment. “That’s it? Are you sur
e?”

  John felt his face become flush. He glared at the door. “Yeah. That’s it.”

  The pastor let out a loud sigh. “Maybe I shouldn’t laugh. But here I thought you were coming in here to tell me you were suing the church.”

  “No. I really am stuck.”

  “Okay. Okay. What have you done so far?”

  “Read some Job. A bunch of Genesis. Skimmed some of Exodus. Got stalled in Leviticus.”

  The pastor laughed. “Lemme guess. The wheels came off the chariot, huh?”

  John shook his head.

  “I’m not surprised,” the pastor continued. “Give it time. There are some great helps in the church library. Have you ever checked them out?”

  “I’ll do that.”

  A half minute of silence opened up. The pastor leaned forward and set his pen onto the desk. “So what’s really on your mind?” When John did not respond, the pastor held out a hand over his desk phone. “Should I…get a lawyer?”

  John took another deep breath but it did nothing for his nerves. Then he stared straight at Pastor Cordell and unloaded. “Did you ever know a Dr. Amalynth?”

  Pastor Cordell moved his hand from over the phone to hover over a glass jar on his desk. He withdrew a piece of butterscotch candy from the jar and offered one to John. John politely refused.

  “Can’t say the name rings a bell.” The pastor unwrapped the candy and stopped suddenly. “Wait. Do you know his first name?”

  “Frank.”

  “Did he have dark hair? Wears suits all the time? Has a heavy accent?”

  “That’s him.”

  “I do remember him. A little bit. He only came here a couple of times. Before you came back. He seemed really bitter about something. Did you know him?”

  “No, but I think he’s the one behind the lightning strike.”

  Pastor Cordell raised an eyebrow.

  John continued, “I’m just trying to figure out what you, a counselor, and Dr. Overland over at Avera McKennan have in common. Then there’s Dr. Ferganut.”

  “Never heard of him.”

  “He’s an inventor. Lives down in Nebraska, I think. Kind of a hermit from what I hear.”

  “I still don’t understand. How can someone be behind a lightning strike?”

  “That’s the part that throws me. I read in Job about how even the lightning bolts report to God. Yet all this evidence keeps piling up that somebody has figured out a way to bring the lightning down to earth on command.”

  “I’ve been a pastor for twenty years and even I haven’t heard of that one before. So…you’re saying someone’s after us? Or me?”

  John nodded in the affirmative. “There was an experiment years ago down in Florida. They launched rockets with wires on them into thunderstorms in order to trigger lightning strikes. They captured a lot of data from it. It’s sort of like that, but in reverse. I still don’t know why he would come after you. You’re the nicest pastor I’ve known in a long time.”

  “I don’t know if some in the congregation share your opinion. Or in the community. Do you think this…Dr. Amalynth is going to try again? Shouldn’t I be calling the cops?”

  “I don’t know if he’ll try again. It’s up to you what you want to do from here.”

  “Do you think they’ll find this guy?”

  “He’s already been found once. The question is where he’s going next.” John stood up to leave.

  “Just so you know, I did call an electrician. We got the circuit breaker fixed once and for all. I’m sorry about everything. I didn’t get a chance to ask. Were you in a lot of pain afterward? Any memory issues? Did you go to the doctor?”

  “No. I’m good.”

  “We missed you on Sunday. See you next Sunday?”

  John just smiled and left without stopping into the church library. On the way out to the parking lot he passed by a portable barbecue grill that belonged to the church and was chained to a metal post. The chain was meant to thwart any curious thieves. John thought little of it except he did notice the propane canister was missing.

  * * *

  After John returned home he fired up his desktop computer in his office and researched Dr. Minton. Ten thousand useless results came up. How did Madeline do all this so quickly? There were doctors in other states, lawyers, professors, and a slew of other results that he had no time or patience to sift through. He pulled out his cell phone and brought up the pictures of the paper-covered desk from the abandoned church. Although he could read Dr. Minton’s name he could not decipher the phone number since the lighting was so poor.

  His attention then drifted back to the desktop computer and the latest computer model forecasts for the region from the National Weather Service. A moderate risk had been issued for a swath of central Nebraska and central Kansas for the end of the week and indications were that the setup would be conducive for strong long-track tornadoes.

  He picked up his cell phone and dialed his friend, James Yancey, also known as Captain Avalanche during storm chases. Captain answered on the second ring.

  “This better be good,” Captain said in the most serious voice he could muster. “I’m in the middle of cleaning out my car.”

  “Have you seen the latest setup?”

  “You’re just looking at the models now? I was all over this a day ago. I kept checking the forecast soundings at my computer until I passed out from exhaustion.”

  “We need to get together on this. I’m thinking Saturday might be the event we’re looking for.”

  “I doubt it’ll top Wick, but you know me, I’m game for almost anything but punching a hail shaft. What’s your target?”

  “South or southwest.”

  “Like Kansas?”

  “Nebraska. Maybe O’Neill. Or Valentine. Even North Platte looks like it has potential.”

  “That’s a big area, John. Are you renting a helicopter for a day?”

  John pulled out his beat-up road atlas and set it before him. He flipped it open to the Nebraska pages and traced several routes on the map with his index finger. He zeroed in on Valentine in the far northern part of the state where he was sure Dr. Ferganut lived. “Maybe hanging out around Valentine would be better.”

  There was a suspicious pause on the other end of the line.

  “Something wrong?” John said.

  “Madeline didn’t move down there, did she?”

  “No. I was just thinking if we had time we could swing by the Professor’s house.”

  “The Professor…?”

  “Ferganut.”

  “Oh, yeah. The sensor guy. You still gonna write that paper about him?”

  “You know it.”

  After John ended the call he debated whether he should stake out Dr. Amalynth’s house or the abandoned church in order to put an end to the destruction. Another part of him wanted nothing to do with it and for now he took solace in Madeline’s comments that perhaps since the lab had been exposed the rocket attacks would be suspended or stop altogether.

  He stared again at the atlas and plotted out a plan of attack for the coming storms. The upper level winds were forecast to be impressive on Saturday and if nothing else he hoped hitting the open road would help him get his mind off of things for a day.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was a four hour drive from Sioux Falls to Valentine, Nebraska, and despite John handling all the driving on the trip, he did not feel exhausted in the least. If needed, he felt he could drive another four hours. It helped that he powered his stamina with coffee and a pair of ham-and-cheese sandwiches. It was mid-September now and although the area he was driving into was still under a moderate risk of severe weather, he knew the window of chasing was closing soon for the season.

  John rolled down his driver-side window and stuck his hand out to catch the breeze as they rolled west on Interstate 90. The air temperature on the ground was in the mid-eighties by noon and a cold front was chugging its way east-southeast toward the area. All the parameters were
in place for a substantial tornado outbreak and already a ragged line of cumulus towers stretched from one horizon to the other. It felt good to be on the open road again, he thought.

  His cell phone rang and he picked it up. It was Madeline.

  “Are you still coming over tonight after I get off work?” She said in a cheerful voice.

  “Of course. But it’ll be late.”

  “How late?”

  John looked at the dashboard clock and then over at Captain in the passenger seat. “Probably after eleven.” He held the phone away from his ear in expectation of a verbal outburst. When none came he put it back up to his ear.

  “Why so late?” She said calmly.

  “Captain and I are on the road loaded with rockets.”

  “Ah. What’s the target this time? Wait, let me guess. Iowa?”

  “Nebraska.”

  “Really? Whereabouts in Nebraska?”

  “The Valentine area. That looks to be the best setup.”

  “Why not someplace like Lincoln? Or even Omaha?”

  “No. The best forcing is coming into this particular area. I mean, we could always be a hundred miles off. Besides, I hear Dr. Ferganut lives over there. I thought Captain and I could drop on by and see if the old guy was around. Just for a few minutes.”

  “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

  “Why?”

  “Isn’t he retired? Maybe he wants to be left alone.”

  John turned toward Captain and raised an eyebrow. “I heard he used to get visits from ex-students all the time. Not that I’m an ex-student of his.”

  “We’re supposed to meet with my Mom tomorrow. How are you going to even be awake for that if you’re up all night driving home?”

  “Yeah, but this might be the last good chase of the season. You have a coffee maker, right? Put on a pot for me late tonight and I’ll reheat it in the morning.”

  Captain put a hand to his forehead. He gave John a sour look before he took a long drink off his fountain pop. He turned back to focus on the maps on his laptop computer.