“But both our government and the Russians are funding laser fusion research,” Marshall said.
“Yes, but they are fallback positions not taken seriously, used to fund graduate students or out-of-fashion eccentrics at the Lawrence Livermore Labs, with no serious project planning. Frankly, these projects cannot compete with what I pay for the best talent in the world. Nor are they as well planned. I have three Nobel Prize laureates working here, Mr. Marshall. All on two-year sabbaticals from their universities or laboratories. They could not turn down my offers. The science and the money were too compelling. And of course, their universities granted them their sabbaticals as they would grant them anything they asked. Such is the power of academic stardom.
“Also, as you may know, this is not my only company. AJC Fusion is a wholly owned subsidiary of Nova Industries. I own that company as well. Do you know what Nova Industries specializes in? We make the finest aspherical lenses in the world. These are essential in the laser optical path techniques that we have developed. Let me repeat, since you ask, ‘Why me?’ Because we make the best aspherical lenses in the world. Other laboratories, even with their inferior efforts, struggle with multiple lasers. We break our single laser pulse into carefully controlled multiple segments that meet simultaneously, that recombine all at the same time on the implosion target. Do you see? We only use one laser. We have no synchronization handicap. We don’t have to get multiple lasers to act as one. We use only one laser. We can do this and no one else, no one else can!”
“Let me get this straight. What exactly do you claim to have done and can you show me anything to verify your claims?” Marshall asked.
“Now you are beginning to see. And ask the right questions. What we have done is achieve ignition of a deuterium-tritium target pellet. Our target team completed development of the pellet seven months ago. Using a high energy laser burst, split by our optical path design, using our lenses to impinge the laser energy on the target capsule equally from all sides, we have succeeded in fusing the target. Nuclear fusion ignition, Mr. Marshall, not in a magnet, but in a little glass bead. We have verified this by examining the neutron radiation emitted from the target. The product of nuclear fusion is telltale neutrons, you see. The neutrons are our proof. This is well-known physics, as I am sure you are aware. And we can achieve this fusion ignition routinely, as it were. Repeatability, Mr. Marshall, is what brings credibility. This alone is an historic achievement. We are now rising up the economic curve, approaching breakeven. You know what I mean by breakeven, of course?”
“When you get as much energy out as you put in?” Marshall ventured.
“Close, but not quite. We are a business and think in business terms. For us, breakeven is when the cost to us of the energy used equals the price we can charge for the energy produced. The greater the compression of our targets, the more neutrons we produce, and the more energy we can make. Simply put, we are looking for the biggest bang for the buck. We are laser-limited at the moment, but that problem is being addressed as we speak.
“You ask what exactly have we done. Mr. Marshall, laser fusion is only one aspect of our revolution. You realize that all large power stations, even nuclear stations, are just glorified water boilers that make steam that drive turbines that drive electric generators. We use nineteenth-century technology to make electricity using steam, Mr. Marshall. Nuclear energy to boil water to make steam. Steam, Mr. Marshall. It is barbaric!
“The efficiency of conversion of a steam-driven turbine system is anywhere from 5 to 50 percent. Fuel cells operate at virtually 100 percent efficiency because they generate no heat. But fuel cells need a source of cheap fuel. Remember, we are after the biggest bang for the buck, Mr. Marshall. We do not use our neutrons to generate heat to make steam. We use them to alter the nuclear structure of atoms. We do nuclear chemistry with them, Mr. Marshall. We make economical synthetic methane from our neutrons, using hydrogen from water and carbon from air. And from this methane, we get hydrogen with which we make electricity, using fuel cells. Creating methane from neutrons and carbon dioxide, Mr. Marshall. It has never been done before. Never even thought of.
“We are founding not just a company here, Mr. Marshall. We are founding a revolution, a new era. Life will never be the same. Energy, boundless, endless energy. Compared to what we have done, the industrial revolution will look like child’s play. This is the destiny of humanity. Unlimited energy that does not destroy the planet.
“We will stop the wasteful and ignorant burning of fossil chemicals and substitute a new era based on a commercially practical hydrogen economy. That is what we have done, what we have actually done.”
Cranshaw sank back in his chair, slowly folding his hands across his belly, smiling, and watching Marshall struggle to absorb all he had just been told.
Finally, Marshall put down his pad and looked intently at Cranshaw, trying to read behind his intense, round face. “But why have there been no announcements? If what you are saying is true, the whole world would be at your feet.”
“But Mr. Marshall, that is why you are here.”
“I don’t understand. You don’t make an announcement like this through a feature writer for the Sunday edition of the Washington Courier, even a good one—a great one—like me. This is front-page New York Times stuff, if it’s true.”
At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Following Cranshaw’s “Come in,” Sylvia Carlyle entered. Cranshaw’s secretary followed just behind her with a tray of coffee, tea, and cups and saucers for three. “Time for a break, gentlemen,” she said indicating to the secretary to place the tray on the coffee table by the couch. Cranshaw left his desk and sat on the couch. Marshall turned his chair to face Cranshaw. Sylvia Carlyle sat in a chair near Cranshaw.
Marshall looked quizzically at Cranshaw when he realized that she was not leaving.
“Ms. Carlyle is my executive administrator. As such, she knows everything, Mr. Marshall. Ms. Carlyle is involved with everything of consequence here. You are a matter of consequence for us.”
Marshall tipped his head in acknowledgment of Cranshaw’s compliment and then turned to Sylvia Carlyle.
“Well, your boss has been telling me quite a story. But I’m still not sure why I’m here. Why me?” he asked, looking at her over his coffee cup.
“That’s simple, James. You don’t mind if I call you James? Good. Please call me Sylvia. It will be your job to see to it that we aren’t murdered. All of us.”
Her bland presentation of his assignment, a smile still lingering on her face, raised the hairs on the back of Marshall’s neck. He suddenly realized that he wasn’t doing an interview. He was being recruited—recruited into something that Dick Scully knew about and approved.
“That’s not my line of work, Ms. Carlyle—Sylvia. I’m just a reporter. I don’t do security. I’m not beefy enough,” he added smiling.
Sylvia Carlyle smiled back and said, “We’ll see.”
Cranshaw added, “Perhaps you will think we are being melodramatic, Mr. Marshall. I assure you, we are not. But you will judge that for yourself before the day is out.
“Notwithstanding, if you agree, you will be an essential element of our announcements. We have experienced an internal problem that necessitates our ‘breaking the story,’ as you journalists say, sooner than we planned. We want it presented with credibility. A journalist of your technical stature will protect us from the strategy of ridicule by those who will certainly become our enemies. Once a subject of ridicule we would easily be destroyed behind the scenes, out of the public view, with no one questioning our disappearance.”
Holding a pastry in midflight to his mouth, Cranshaw continued, “We are being a bit unfair to you, hitting you with everything at once. But you see, time has become of the essence and we must get our act in gear, as it were. Sylvia, perhaps this is a good time to show Mr. Marshall our facilities. He is probably tired of listening to me by now.”
“Certainly, Dr. Cranshaw.” Then
turning to Marshall, she said, “Shall we begin now?”
Marshall welcomed the chance to think about what he had been told so far. It just didn’t ring true. Technical achievements like these just didn’t happen in the dark without some word leaking out.
Leaving Cranshaw’s office, Sylvia led Marshall down the hall to the elevator bank. Entering the car, Marshall noted that it indicated two levels, the one they were on and another marked “D.” It still did not compute.
“I’m told there are about eighty people working here, but I don’t see how. They can’t all fit in these two floors,” he said, as the elevator made its slow descent.
“Of course, you are correct. And you’re wrong. There are about seventy-eight people all together working here, but there are not two floors. There are five, including an underground garage. Intentionally this is not easy to determine from the outside. For security reasons, for each floor—except the first, which is the lowest security level, and the last, which is the highest—there are two elevators. Each elevator goes only one floor, either up and down one or down and up one. There is a security check at each level. It is impossible to go directly from the fifth level to the surface level in one elevator. We are, after all, dealing with atomic research for profit. Our own precautions against industrial espionage impose far greater precautions than what the federal government requires for safety purposes.”
As the doors opened, they entered a waiting area with a communications microphone and speaker connecting to the guard beyond the plate glass window. The window contained a sliding tray similar to those at drive-up bank deposit windows.
As the drawer slid out Sylvia said, “You put your hand on the plate and it does a fingerprint check. I’m sorry, but we take the fingerprints of all visitors, although they don’t usually know it. When you signed in, it was taken from the page on the sign-in sheet. Special paper. If you hadn’t touched the paper, the guard would have spoken to you.
“Also, there is a complete visual check through the window by the guard. They have a freeze-frame monitor that connects them with the waiting room to detect a potential switch after you leave the reception area.”
Carlyle stepped closer to the window. There was a small black pattern, a circle with a cross, like a telescopic sight, etched in the glass. She looked closely at it for several seconds.
“For employees there’s also a retinal pattern check for positive identification. You would not be allowed below the ground level without a positively identified employee with the appropriate security clearance.”
Their identifications validated and completed, the guard opened the door and they entered another long corridor.
“On this level, we do mathematical modeling studies and telemetry development. On the ‘C’ level we do fuel cell and target pellet development. On the ‘B’ level we do nuclear chemistry development. On the bottom or ‘A’ level we do laser optics development and we have the complete operational system. We’ll visit that area last.”
“Look, Sylvia, I can understand all the industrial espionage measures, but you were over dramatizing the murder stuff a bit, weren’t you?”
“James, you have to think about the vested interests that this work threatens with obsolescence. Do you realize that the big five petroleum companies in the United States have annual sales far larger than the gross national product of most countries in the world? They’re not going to be happy with our announcement of a viable laser fusion process supporting a hydrogen-energy economy. Nor will the thousands of companies supporting the oil companies. The Organization of Petroleum Exporting Companies will not be too happy either. Neither will the coal suppliers, the fission-reactor people, the magnetic-confinement people with by now their hundreds of millions of dollars of wasted effort. We’re talking about business interests worth billions—actually, hundreds of billions of dollars. People have been killed for a lot less than that. Our own government will not be too happy either.”
Marshall interrupted her. “Why the government? Aren’t they trying to find the same answers?”
“Yes, of course. And that’s just the point. If a government-sponsored program finds the solution, the solution belongs in the public domain. We’re a completely privately funded company. Even the government-mandated security for nuclear experimentation is paid for by us. We have patented everything. Our company intends to profit from everything through license fees. Billions of dollars of tax money have been spent in anticipation of an ultimate public windfall. This won’t be the case now. I think the phrase is ‘heads will roll.’”
“I see. Still, murder seems a little obvious. No one could believe that they would get away with that sort of thing. Have there been any threats made against any of you?”
“Not exactly. One of our engineers was found dead near Atlantic City recently. A terrible tragedy and possibly a warning of things to come. Also, Our director of operations, Philip Layland, is missing. But actually, we believe he may have gone over to the enemy camp, so to speak. The oil companies. Philip has been a problem for several months now. Assume for the moment that what you have heard about the achievements of AJC Fusion is true. You can imagine the importance of our patents and the potential future value of our company. Well, Philip understood this as much as any person living. He petitioned Dr. Cranshaw quite vigorously for an equity interest in the company. Dr. Cranshaw had to become quite firm with him in denying Philip’s ultimatum. There’s no other word, I suppose, considering Philip’s vehemence over the issue. Threats were made during that conversation. Perhaps he was carried away in the heat of the discussion. But now he is missing.”
“How critical to the operation is he?” Marshall asked.
“To our operations, quite critical. We are struggling to work around his absence at the moment. In addition, he was instrumental in analyzing our profitability projections, our marketing strategies, and overtures to potential foreign markets. An invaluable marketing network has been built up that he is intimately familiar with.”
“If he’s so important, why wouldn’t your Dr. Cranshaw give him a piece of the action? That’s not so uncommon, is it, in new-venture, high-tech companies?” Marshall asked.
“This is true, James. Important staff members are often compensated partially with stock. But the reason is to allow the company to pay these key employees less, since they are start-up and usually are not well-financed. Also, the stock options ensure their sense of having a stake in the successful completion of their work. In the case of AJC Fusion, Dr. Cranshaw is a successful entrepreneur with considerable financial resources through his other companies. He pays very well. And he is very firm about not diluting his controlling interest in the company. Dr. Cranshaw’s recruiting strategy has been very simple. Find the best, and as I said, he pays his executives very well. As for the technical staff, they are motivated by a calling other than money.
“Philip is . . . was very important to this company. But as Dr. Cranshaw has said on the few occasions dealing with this issue, AJC Fusion is not a whaling ship, and he doesn’t pay with shares in the cargo in the hold.”
“One more question, Sylvia. I get that you are using fusion in a unique way, not for heat but for neutrons. I get the whole chain of accomplishments including the fuel cells and why. But I don’t get the DCthe direct currentthat you will get. Thomas Edison lost that battle a long time ago when he fought it out with George Westinghouse who, of course, favored ACalternating current—and for good reason. Overland transmission of electricity is more efficient as AC than as DC. How do you plan to get around that problem?”
Sylvia Carlyle smiled. “Good question. Naturally we anticipated this problem. The entire electrical infrastructure is designed for alternating current and the electrical energy generated at the main production plants will be converted from DC to AC with only a minimal loss in efficiency due to that exchange. Locally, homes and businesses can simply continue to use alternating current. You know of course that all higher uses of electricity
, that is, uses for more than simply creating heat, use direct current. Every single electronic device from audio systems to computers to . . . well, you name itthey all use direct current internally. They all have an internal circuit to turn the AC to DC so logical circuits can be used that cannot be used with alternating current. At the device level, it’s always direct current being used. Eventually, at the neighborhood level, it may be direct current that enters the home. It’s not a problem.”
Stopping at an office door, before entering, she explained, “This is Dr. Allen Lewis’s office. Dr. Lewis will explain how we study the surface instabilities of the imploding spherical target. As you know, he won the Nobel Prize in physics for his work on modeling hypersonic shock waves in the solar atmosphere.”
Allen Lewis was about fifty years old, slightly on the heavy side, and completely bald. He wore silver wire-frame glasses that he took off and put on frequently when in thought, slowly opening and closing them unconsciously.
After the initial introductions, Marshall asked, “Dr. Lewis, I appreciate your taking time to talk with me. May I ask you a practical question first before we discuss your work? How can a man of your public visibility be working here and no one seems to know anything about it?”
“Well,” he began in a soft Southern accent, “you’d be surprised about the paucity of public visibility between awards. You know, in science, particularly in leading-edge work, priority is the key. Coming in second just doesn’t count for much. You learn to keep your mouth shut about your work, except, of course, if you need help. In the science business you keep a low profile on your progress until you’re ready to report your success. I can do what I’m doing because of the low profile of this company. The big laboratories, the university or government labs who know what we’re about here have never been much interested in talking about us. They just don’t want to be creating a mantle of legitimacy for us that their recognition would imply. So they share data with us because we’re good and we give them just enough to keep them interested and to keep an historic trail, you know, in case a priority war breaks out among us boys over who did what first. But they don’t really want to talk publicly about us. Pure science isn’t as pure as we like to think, Mr. Marshall.”
On Deception Watch Page 2