Gunnar schooled his face to seriousness and said, “That jerk didn’t think you were our receptionist.” Then his expression crumbled and he bent over, laughing again.
Kaem watched Gunnar in wonder. The grumpy man so seldom thought anything was funny, it was great to see him cutting loose. On the other hand, Arya looked ready to explode.
Glaring at Gunnar, Arya said, “On his way out the door that SOB said he wasn’t going to work here. All I can say is that’s damned lucky for him.”
Lee finally had her giggles in control. She said, “Arya, that guy thought Gunnar was ‘Mr. Seba.’ Gunnar just let him keep thinking he was. The guy dug himself in deeper and deeper and deeper.”
Kaem drew himself up. “I was greatly complimented that Dr. Norton thought I was a fine specimen of manhood like Gunnar.”
Gunnar rolled his eyes. “An old, washed-up specimen, you mean.”
Lee narrowed her eyes as she studied Kaem, “You realize Norton was just so racist he couldn’t believe the black guy was the famous Seba don’t you?”
Kaem gave her a round-eyed look of surprise and said, “Really? Are there people who don’t believe people of color can be intelligent?”
Lee snorted and shook her head, “I thought it must be your first experience with racial bias.”
Kaem said, “I do enjoy proving people’s biases wrong. For instance,” he winked at Lee, “I’m not the famous Seba, I’m the infamous one.” Stepping back, he pulled his phone out of a pocket and said, “Much as I’d love to sit around and continue discussing Mr. Norton’s idiosyncrasies with you guys, I’ve got a call.” He started walking toward the door to the anteroom, saying back over his shoulder, “Since someone has to work to support your extravagant salaries, I guess I’d better take it… Hello. Mr. Turpin? How can I help you?” He stepped through the door into the anteroom so the others could keep venting.
Turpin said, “Mr. Seba?”
“That’s me.”
“Um, I’m the director of the Surbury Nuclear Reactor. You sent me a specimen of your… Stade?”
“Yes, sir. Would it be of any help to you?”
“I’m not sure. How were you thinking we’d be able to use it?”
“Ah, that would depend on your situation and that situation isn’t very clear from what’s in the news. I assume you recognize it’ll block all radiation?”
“Yeah. We confirmed that with our own testing. It’s a little hard to believe, but… how long will that property persist?”
“Millions of years. However, it doesn’t block radiation by absorption like most of the materials you’re familiar with. It blocks it by reflecting the radiation. That would certainly be undesirable around fissionable materials. Reflecting neutrons back into a nuclear reactor could induce criticality.”
Turpin was silent, so Kaem said, “Mr. Turpin?”
“Um, yeah. What percent of the neutrons does it reflect?”
“A hundred percent.”
“I seriously doubt that,” Turpin said, “The best reflectors only reflect fifty percent.”
“Stade reflects a hundred percent of all forms of radiation.”
“What’s it made out of?”
“Sorry, can’t tell you yet,” Kaem responded.
“I’m afraid I just can’t believe it reflects that many neutrons.”
Kaem chuckled, “Well, don’t lean a big piece of it up against your pile until you’ve checked that claim, okay?”
Turpin laughed. “Okay. If I tell you what’s going on here, can you keep it a secret?”
“Sure.”
Turpin described the sequence of events in their meltdown. He finished by saying, “So, the reactor’s destroyed but remains a hazard due to its radioactivity. I’ve been trying to think of ways to use your Stade to render it safe while we move it somewhere.”
Puzzled, Kaem said, “Where would you move it?”
“Well, in the past there were plans to put radioactive waste in the Yucca Mountain Nuclear Waste Repository, but you may know political problems closed that facility. Now almost all nuclear waste winds up being stored at the site where it was produced. So, probably we’d just move it to some other location on the Surbury site. We’ve got 800 acres. Wherever we put it, it’d be nice if it was sealed up so it wasn’t radiating.”
Kaem took a deep breath. “We’ve got a way to seal it up so it won’t radiate. You could put your spent fuel in there too if you liked.”
“But, if we packed that stuff into Stade cans and it was reflecting all the neutrons back into the middle… what if it did go critical?”
“You’ll keep our secrets like I’m keeping yours?’
“Sure.”
“Okay. It wouldn’t matter if it went critical. We’re pretty sure Stade’s strong enough to hold in an atomic explosion.” Turpin snorted disbelievingly but Kaem kept talking, “However, I’m talking about something a little different. Our technology should also completely stop the ongoing nuclear activity, thereby stopping the emission of radioactivity.”
There was another pause, then Turpin said, “I was told you’re a physics student at UVA?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What year?”
“I’m a rising senior,” Kaem said.
“And you don’t realize just how ridiculous those claims are?”
“You’ve touched that sample of Stade, right?”
“Uh, yeah,” Turpin said reluctantly, sounding like he knew where the conversation was going next.
“Until you did, you probably thought a coefficient of friction of zero was impossible too, didn’t you?”
“Yeah…” Turpin said reluctantly.
“So, how about if we proved we can do it by making one of your spent fuel rods non-radioactive?”
“Sure,” Turpin chuckled, “I’d love to see that.”
“It’d need to be less than fourteen-centimeters in greatest dimension.”
“Um, the fuel rods are four-meters long.”
“This is just for the demonstration,” Kaem said, “If you decided you wanted us to secure your reactor and spent fuel, then we’d set up to do it on a larger scale.”
“They’re long tubes full of uranium pellets. Cutting one shorter would be problematic because they’re hot and highly radioactive.”
“Could you just dump out a few pellets and let us make them safe?”
“Um, we might be able to do that,” Turpin said grudgingly.
“When do you want to do it?”
“Let me call you back. There’re going to be some regulatory hurdles.”
“No problem,” Kaem said. “Just so you’ll know, we’ll need to wrap them in insulation then put them in a plastic bag. Our bag’d melt if it were in direct contact with a hot pellet.”
“A plastic bag?”
“Yeah, Mylar.”
“That doesn’t seem…” Turpin trailed off, then finished, “Doesn’t seem very professional.”
“We can do something professional once you start paying us. Or, you could put the pellet in a container that’ll fit in a fifteen by fifteen by fifteen-centimeter chamber. That container can’t be too hot either and we won’t be very happy if our little chamber turns out to be significantly radioactive afterward.”
“What’s the chamber made of?”
“Glass mirrors in a stainless-steel box,” Kaem said. “I know the neutrons coming off the uranium will make the steel somewhat radioactive, it’s just not clear to me how radioactive. If it’s much, I’d sure rather do it with the Mylar. We can throw the Mylar in the trash afterward.”
“We’ll dispose of the Mylar afterward. We can’t let you take anything radioactive with you.”
They talked a couple more minutes, then Kaem hung up.
When he turned around, Arya was behind him. “Radioactive?” she asked unhappily.
Kaem shrugged, “Trying to get us some business disposing of nuclear waste.”
Arya frowned, “Is that something we want to get involved
in?”
“You told me you wanted to make a difference in the world. Safely disposing of nuclear waste would make a big difference. I think it’s definitely something we want to get involved in.”
“If we put nuclear waste in stasis, aren’t we just putting the problem off for someone in the future to handle? It’ll still be radioactive when it comes out won’t it?”
Kaem nodded. “But I was thinking we’d put it in stasis for a couple of exaseconds.”
She narrowed her eyes, “How long’s an exasecond?”
“Thirty-two billion years. The universe is only thirteen billion years old. They predict the sun will have engulfed the Earth in about a quarter of an exasecond.” He shrugged, “I’m thinking we don’t need to spend too much time worrying about what’ll be happening in two exaseconds.”
Arya studied him a few seconds then snorted a laugh. “I guess not.”
“Now you think I’m funny?”
“No. Not a chance,” she said, but she had a sly smile on her face.
Encouraged, Kaem threw caution to the wind, “What would you think about going to see that new movie Naïve? It’s an updated version of Jane Austen’s Emma.”
Arya grinned, “Now that was funny!”
Hurt, Kaem said, “It was just a thought.” He turned and headed back into the big room.
Just after entering the room, his phone said, “You’ve got a call from George Meade at GLI.”
“I’ll take it,” Kaem said. “I’m sorry Mr. Meade. We had some trouble when Dr. Norton arrived to work with us. Um, he’s already left.”
Meade said, “I was calling to apologize. I sent Dr. Norton to you guys because he’s really smart, but I completely failed to recognize how his total lack of people skills would impact the interaction.”
“Unfortunately,” Kaem said, “when he mistook Mr. Schmidt for me, it turned into a joke that we let go on far too long.”
“That should never have happened. I described you to him, but he doesn’t pay much attention to people. He’s more into… things.”
“Ah, sounds like he might be somewhere on the autism spectrum.”
“Oh,” Meade said, a little surprise in his voice. “You’re probably right. Brilliant engineer, but unable to figure out how other humans work. Maybe I should’ve been trying to get him some help.”
“Well, if he did go get some help, I’d be happy to have him come back out here and give it another try with us.”
“Really?”
“Sure.” Kaem lowered his voice as if revealing a confidence. “You probably won’t believe it, but I’ve suffered a bit of discrimination myself. I can see how being differently enabled like he is must be difficult. Also, I think I’ve heard that even though social graces don’t come naturally to them, some people with Asperger’s manage to learn a set of rules for behavior. They then get along by following a sort of algorithm for interaction. Admittedly, it requires significant effort on their part, but if they put in the work, such rules are supposed to enable them to function better as part of a team.”
“Wow…” Meade said thoughtfully. “I’ve already fired him, but now I’m having a lot of second thoughts. Especially if you’d be willing to give him another go.”
“Not until he gets some training!” Kaem said, alarmed. “I’d have a revolt on my hands if he just showed back up. I’ve got to at least be able to tell people here he’s put in an effort.”
***
Later that afternoon, when Kaem came out into the anteroom on his way home, he felt surprised to find Arya still there. She closed her laptop and said, “Shall I guard you home?”
Kaem blinked, “I thought we weren’t doing that anymore?”
“For old time’s sake?”
“Sure,” he said, feeling a little spike of excitement run through him. “I was going to take an Uber since it’s hot. It should be pulling up outside any minute.”
When they got outside, the Uber was coming around the corner. Kaem turned to Arya, “Did Gunnar tell you we stazed the panels for our jackets this morning?”
Arya nodded. “They seem very nice and the panels are pretty flexible around the joints.” She shrugged, “I don’t know whether they’re flexible enough. We’ll have to see after I sew them together.”
“Oh, shall I get them so you can take them home to work on them?”
She arched an eyebrow, “You think I’ve got nothing better to do than sew your jackets?”
Embarrassed, Kaem said, “No, sorry!” He opened the Uber’s door and held it for her to get in. “It’s way too hot to wear jackets right now anyway. You should do them when you’re not too busy with other stuff.”
“That’s good,” Arya said, looking slyly at him out of the corner of her eye, “’cause a friend asked me to go see a new movie based on Jane Austen’s Emma.”
Shocked, Kaem said, “Really?!”
She nodded, “Unless you need me to be laboring at the sewing machine.”
“No! I’d love to go to the movie with you! Can we go to dinner before?”
She nodded, “If there’s time.”
“There is!” Kaem said excitedly. “There’s a showing at eight. We could eat at Bistro Valentin? You like it right?”
“I don’t know. That might bring back too many memories of how you had my mother eating out of your hand after my graduation.”
He widened his eyes, “You have no idea how much effort that took. I was sure she was going to take my head off the way you predicted.”
“I could tell,” Arya said softly. “You had to do some serious research on Indian culture and customs.”
“I did. Was that too creepy?”
“No. It was sweet. I appreciated it. And she goes on about you every time I call.”
“Oh…” he said thoughtfully, then brightened. “What should I research to impress you?”
She glanced aside, “Always with the lame jokes.”
“I’m sorry,” Kaem said mortified. “I swear, most of the time I don’t even realize I’m making a joke until it’s left my mouth.” Even more embarrassed, he said, “And about the jackets, we could hire the assembly out to one of the tailoring shops in town. You shouldn’t have to do it.”
Arya frowned, “And what are we going to tell the tailor about why we’re making bulletproof jackets?”
Kaem shrugged, “They don’t have to know it’s armor. We’ll tell them we’re trying to start a new style of outerwear with stiffeners in it.”
“I don’t think they’re going to believe that.”
“I don’t know anything about fashion. Maybe you could come up with something?”
“I’ll think about it,” Arya said, looking around. “Where are we?”
“My new apartment. You want to come up so you’ll know where it is?”
“Kaem Seba moved out of the dorm?!”
He shrugged, “I came into some money.” He got out, “You want to meet me for dinner someplace else?”
“I’ll be back to get you at six-thirty. Wear something nice.” She pulled the Uber’s door closed and it drove away.
Kaem stared after her, wishing he had some idea whether she’d like any of the new clothes he’d bought. Do I have to wear long pants in the summer? he wondered. Then he had a horrifying thought, Surely, she won’t expect me to wear a jacket, will she? Nobody does that anymore… do they?
***
Kaem dithered for a while but finally compromised on long pants with a collared knit shirt, no jacket.
When Arya arrived, she took in his appearance for a few seconds, then said, “Not quite what I’d hoped, but far better than I’d feared.”
She, of course, looked stunning.
How does she do that? he wondered.
They had dinner at a small place called “Molly’s.” Kaem enjoyed it a lot, especially talking to Arya about something other than Staze. She told him about growing up in Hagerstown, the child of recent immigrants who weren’t comfortable with American life yet.
When it came time to leave if they were going to make the movie, he wondered whether it would be okay to suggest giving up on the movie so they could keep talking. He decided he’d invited her to a romantic movie and he’d better deliver, so he called another Uber.
After the movie, she rode back to his apartment with him. When the car stopped, he opened his door and put a foot outside before turning back, “Would you like to come up and see my new place?”
She looked at him for long seconds, then shook her head. She leaned forward and quickly kissed his cheek. “I had a nice time. Thanks.”
“Me too,” Kaem said, a lump in his throat. As the Uber drove away, he stared wistfully after it. I think, for a second there, she considered coming up.
Chapter Two
The next morning the blimp in the parking lot was getting pretty big. Gunnar was pissed because he’d had to make several trips to keep the pump fueled up. As they walked inside, Kaem said, “Two things. Second, you need to order a big stationary tank for fuel. But first, you need to get a bigger, faster pump so this doesn’t take so long in the future. You might want to keep this one to pump your flying Stade-blimp up and down, but you need a much bigger one for filling the full-sized blimps we’re hoping to staze someday. You don’t want to get a big tank installed and have it turn out to be outfitted for the wrong kind of fuel.”
Gunnar sighed, “I’ve realized that. But it seems to me that we need to move Staze to a different location. If we’re going to build some big Stade buildings and blimps we’ll need more room. I’m expecting complaints from neighboring buildings about even our little blimp in the parking lot.”
Kaem waved at Lee, already inside working, then grinned back at Gunnar, “Just because you’d complain if they had a blimp in their parking lot, doesn’t mean that they’ll complain about a blimp in ours. Not everyone’s as cantankerous as you are.”
Gunnar stared at him a minute, “Yeah they will. We need to move somewhere else. And we should do it before we buy a big tank or start stazing blimp sized objects that we’ll have to move.”
Kaem laughed. “You’re probably right.”
Radiation Hazard (The Stasis Stories #3) Page 4