On Deception Watch

by David H Spielberg

  “Could this Berman be a setup to get us into bed with them somehow?” Drummond asked. “Maybe they’re afraid of the whole pie. As you suggest, it might be too rich for their blood. Half a pie with the government is better than the whole pie if the whole pie can get you killed. Is that your thesis, Frank?”

  Morrison nodded affirmatively.

  The president continued. “Hmmm. Let’s start over. I meet with him and I’m convinced that their claims are true. Then what? I believe I am an advocate of homeostasis myself, Frank. Practical fusion power is a change that, even under government control, would be difficult to manage without creating economic chaos. And in this case, we’re dealing here with a private company.”

  “Mr. President, we don’t really know what we’re dealing with here. It could be nothing. It could be something totally technical, of no practical significance. You know how many times the National Institute of Health has announced a major breakthrough in the cure for cancer. We’re still waiting. We simply need more information on this, Mr. President.”

  Drummond got up to pace again as he thought. After a few moments, he continued speaking.

  “Okay. We have to get this thing under control and we can’t wait until tomorrow. I don’t want to go into this meeting waiting for news. I want to have it before I sit down. I want Jim Benson to get his Department of Energy boys and girls on this. I want to get a look inside this AJC Fusion. They’re doing nuclear work, right? Let’s go inspect something there. I want the FBI in on this early. Get Amanda Brock on board. We’ll set up a close surveillance of Berman no matter what happens tomorrow. I want the vice president to bring NSA on board with this. And finally, I want Roger Talbot to get a Central Intelligence read on possible international overtures by these folks. I want to find out if they have any foreign investors and who they are. I want only those four directors. They are to meet me here in twenty minutes for instructions. Tell them only that it is something potentially important, that they are to be on time, and that they are to talk to no one. If asked where they are going, they are to say they are coming over to chat about the budget. You are not to tell them about the other directors involved in the meeting. They will find that out when they get here. After you set this meeting up, call Berman and set up your meeting for tomorrow. Then come back here to my office when you’re finished with Berman. Also, I want you to get me their annual report and bios of all the company’s officers.”

  Rising quickly, Morrison gave himself time only to say “Yes, Mr. President,” and he was out the office door, already organizing his calls, his priorities, his actions.

  Alone in his office, Emerson Drummond began studying the daily situation reports. But his attention failed to stay focused on the terse global summaries.

  So this is how the new world begins, he thought. Quickly, he pushed the thought aside. Not enough information. Frank was right. We’ll soon take care of that. But what if it is real? What if we have really solved the riddle of controlled nuclear fusion? Power from the sea. Unlimited power to serve mankind. It had to happen someday. Why not now?

  The consequences were staggering. He did not know where to begin. In whatever direction his analytical brain began to explore, he saw inadequacy, hardship, struggle, confrontation. Then he overlaid a world essentially free of the cost of energy, with the world’s huge energy bill gone and the capital available instead for the betterment of all mankind.

  What would the effect be on the political theorists? What new goals and methods of government could be envisioned? Surely these would be affected. How would the inevitable changes be managed? Would the transition be a time of wonder or a time of fear and lost opportunity, or even a time of self-destruction? God help us, he thought, we have proven more than once that man is capable of corrupting a pure, saving message. Would religion be affected?

  He knew he was rushing things, but the old dream of fusion power, the same power that brings life and light to the earth, the power of the sun, available for man’s peaceful use—finally—it was just too seductive not to think about, to hope for.

  Of course, a new world of power generation would arise from the ashes of the old world based on fossil fuels. New power plants would be built; possibly old ones would be converted. New fuel suppliers would rise up. Extraction or production of suitable isotopes of hydrogen from water would create whole new industries. New support industries and new technologies would be developed. Nothing is totally free. But the bottom line would still be that the cost of power would plummet and the fuel supply would become essentially limitless.

  Fossil fuels, those precious, irreplaceable chemicals created only once in the history of Earth, would no longer be squandered, scandalously burned, never to be available again. They would instead become the virtually inexhaustible raw supply for a new and more creative era of synthetic petroleum-based materials and chemicals.

  And a new economic order as well would arise out of the changed economics of fuel, of power production, and the burden of energy budgeting and expenditures. The redistribution of resources and world economic priorities would have undreamed-of consequences for human advancement.

  The change brought to the world by the industrial revolution, with its benefits and exploitations, would be nothing compared to what would result from controlled fusion power. It would take at least a generation to secure the first beachheads into this new world. Drummond realized that if Berman’s claims were true, he would only see the first fateful steps into this new world.

  Homeostasis. Odd word. It’s amazing, he thought, how the Greeks had words enough, the right words, to supply us with names for any concept we could dream up. How would those great minds of ancient Greece welcome this new gift of a new kind of fire? Is Berman our new Prometheus? And can Pandora be far behind?

  More to the point, how would Emerson Drummond welcome this new fire? He is not allowed to feel frightened or out of his depth. That is a luxury not available to presidents. He knew that. But he also knew that that was exactly how he felt now. There was no guiding precedent for coping with imminent, explosive, virtually instantaneous world revolution.

  War, famine, disease, flood. These were all easy. You follow the rules. But there were no rules for this. At that moment, he sincerely wished General Slaider had never come to his office with this news and that AJC Fusion never existed.

  Well, there was a rule, he remembered, comforting himself: the rule that you just start chipping away. His instincts were good. He had begun his chipping with his instructions to Frank Morrison. Later he may have to break some big stones, but for now, he was happy with chips and he was moving cautiously, prudently. He was satisfied.

  4

  Responding to Morrison’s summons, the four directors entered the president’s office one by one, with only brief intervals between them. Chairs had been arranged for six as the startled directors acknowledged each other’s presence. They sat quickly when they arrived, seeing the president already seated. When all but the chair reserved for Frank Morrison was filled, the president began.

  “Before we begin, I want to advise you that you are here regarding a domestic matter. I will explain the presence of Mr. Talbot and any international implications before the meeting is over. Next, I want your utmost assurances that there will be no discussion about this meeting with anyone. There will be no communication among yourselves regarding what you are about to hear, except when we are together in this room. This is a matter of extreme sensitivity. I want it handled that way.” He paused long enough to look each man in the eye. “I want no leaks. Period.” Again, he paused making sure his meaning was clear.

  “Good. This morning I have become aware that a private company called AJC Fusion, headquartered in Jersey City, New Jersey, may have achieved small-scale, laser-induced controlled thermonuclear fusion. I am arranging for a possible meeting tomorrow with the chief financial officer of that company, a Mr. Samuel Berman. This meeting is at Mr. Berman’s solicitation. I do not know why he is asking for
a meeting with me. I have as yet no technical assessment or even verification of the claim made by Mr. Berman. Preliminary inquiries indicate that Berman is a respected and published financial expert. The company is certified for nuclear research and has numerous classified patents relating to microfusion. There is enough substance relating to this matter to convince me that the claims may be serious and valid. If this is the case, the government of the United States cannot be taken by surprise by a development of this import. Are there any questions so far?”

  Amanda Brock asked, “Mr. President, we need to get some Bureau people into this operation. Do we have any federal employees inside the company, security people, anything?”

  “I don’t know. Jim, what can you tell us about security at such installations.”

  Jim Benson leaned back in his chair and addressed the group. “For any installation doing atomic or nuclear research, the Department of Energy protocols require full-time security. Normally these resident security officers are paid for by the government and they are government employees. In the case of most private companies, this is the way it works. However, the option exists for a company to pay for the federal security presence to avoid the claim of government subsidization. In that case, the resident security officers are still government employees, but the claim of partnership with the federal government is voided. Same thing for safety. Each organization has required resident safety officers. The claim of partnership is likewise voided if they pay the whole freight.”

  Vice President Paul Latimer adjusted his chair and, leaning forward, addressed the group. “Mr. President, gentlemen, Amanda, we have to be very careful how we proceed with this. From a legal point of view, we’re on thin ice unless there is a national security issue at stake here. And even if there is, we have to advise the National Security Agency oversight committee if we get into any operative mode with this thing. We don’t want to look like we’re forming a conspiracy to harass a private company just because it may hold the most valuable patents in the history of patents.”

  “Paul, for the moment, let’s keep the big picture open here. We’re not harassing anyone yet. We’re just trying to get information. But I appreciate your concern and that’s why I asked Roger to join our party.”

  Turning to the Director of the Central Intelligence Agency, the president continued, “Roger, what’s your impression of what you’ve heard so far, from an international perspective?”

  “Well, Mr. President, I believe there is cause for national security concern here. The product we’re talking about isn’t just baseball caps. There is a very probable foreign market for licensing whatever technology these folks think they have to sell. If that’s a correct assumption, and I believe that’s pretty much a no-brainer, then they very likely are laying some foreign groundwork, getting their marketing network—if not their customer network—built up. And since they’re private and ol’ Uncle Sam isn’t footing the bill, they’re probably out there beating the drum for potential backers—foreign investors, definitely. They’re in a pretty pricey field of research here. You put these two incentives to become involved overseas together and you’ve got plenty of opportunity to get in trouble from a national security point of view. You’ve got the probable exporting of protected technology and you’ve got your basic espionage involving classified nuclear research. Companies like this—I mean little companies, with dipshit foreign experience—can and often do become duped by extremely versatile foreign agents. Yes sir, in my opinion, these are areas of legitimate national security concern, Mr. President.”

  Drummond turned again to his vice president and asked, “Will that do for the time being, Paul? I think we can make a case for our legitimate concern here in the national interest.”

  Paul Latimer quietly nodded his agreement.

  “Anything else from anyone?” the president asked. There was no response.

  “Okay, let’s do it by the numbers then. What do you gentlemen recommend? Jim, what do you recommend from the Energy Department’s viewpoint?”

  “We can do immediate safety and security inspections of their facility. It is perfectly within our jurisdiction and we don’t need to give a lot of notice. I’ll salt the team with Bill Cummings and some of his people. I’ll have to let him know what we’re looking for in terms of technical progress, but he can be trusted and I’ll keep it general with him too. You know—we just want to see what’s up with AJC Fusion. That sort of thing. I think it will seem pretty routine to everyone. Also, I’ll personally read their latest patents to try to get a feel for where they’re going.”

  “Okay, do it. Make sure Cummings understands we are trying only to assess their technical accomplishments. In fact, to keep it informal in appearance, tell him he can keep written personal notes if he likes, but that you only want a verbal report. I don’t want anything circulating at this point. Good. Amanda, what can the FBI do for me here?”

  Amanda Brock consulted her notes for a moment. “Mr. President, I recommend surveillance of Samuel Berman, starting immediately, as well as the other officers of AJC Fusion. Also, their top technical heads. Nothing that needs a court order yet. Just follow and ascertain any patterns that may exist. This can be handled in a routine way and no special instructions will be required. They all probably have files anyway. I’ll make sure to read the daily reports. We can up the ante if and when it seems necessary. I’d say Berman is the most important for the moment. We can begin monitoring all communications by these folks. I can have that in place by tomorrow morning.”

  “Okay, Amanda. Just make sure you stay personally involved with this on a daily basis. And get it started tonight. Roger, how about our friends at the CIA?”

  “Well, Mr. President. I believe we can justify—and come up pretty quickly—with a review of all foreign travel, correspondence, and communications by all the officers of this little bitty company. I’ll get you names, places, itineraries, the whole works. You’ll know more about their overseas contacts than a pup knows about its momma’s titties. Excuse me, Amanda. And they won’t know one thing about our doing it. I guarantee it. I can have it for you in three days. Two if you really need it.” Talbot sat back, a grin on his face, enjoying his own confidence and the pleasure of decisive action that he always felt at moments like this.

  “Okay, Roger. But I need it tomorrow.” At that moment, Frank Morrison returned to the president’s office and quietly took his seat. As he sat down, he made a positive, thumbs-up gesture to the president followed by raising his index finger. Frank’s meeting with Berman for tomorrow was on and it would take place at 1:00 p.m.

  “Paul, what about the National Security Agency?”

  “Mr. President, I think I will need to operate on the assumption that the world is about to change. We will need to analyze the significance and consequences of a major shift in the energy strategy of the country and how this will effect our alliances, and our and their economies. I’ll personally begin preparing preliminary study recommendations. I will also prepare study recommendations for analyzing the likely response of our European and Asian friends to our exclusive control of this new technology. I’ll check first, just in case, to see if these studies haven’t already been done because of the ongoing magnetic confinement projects we’ve been funding. I’ll see what other studies might have been done that relate to this situation—so we don’t have to reinvent the wheel.”

  “Very good. Thank you, Paul. Okay, I think that does it. I will need written reports from you by tomorrow morning. We’ll meet again together the day after tomorrow at ten o’clock to follow up on all these matters. At that time I will brief you on what I learn from Mr. Berman. It appears that the meeting for tomorrow with Mr. Berman is on schedule. Also, please keep your own schedules for tomorrow flexible between about two and five, just in case I need a quick turnaround after my Berman meeting. That will be all for now. Thank for your comments. Again, let me caution you about the need for prudent secrecy in this matter.”

  5<
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  The room was silent except for the hissing and crackling of the logs. Drummond stared at the fire in the bordered fireplace directly opposite his desk. He rose from his chair and turned off the light. Once again, he settled into his chair, stretching his feet straight out before him. A long, shallow exhalation of breath settled the rest of his body into a posture of repose and contemplation.

  The darkness of the room was broken only by the comforting incandescence that hovered in and about the fireplace like a primitive presence. What is it about a fireplace? Drummond thought. Its heat does not really serve, nor does its light. It is a vestigial thing—a fireplace—a relic of another time. But of what other time?

  The orange flames, the red glowing embers beneath the grate, the crackle and sputter of escaping gases, the smell of the smoke, the satisfying sound of a log settling as it consumes itself, the shadows flickering inscrutably in the room—these have always had the power to calm his thoughts and bring some measure of tranquility into his life. There is and always has been, he knew, a strange affinity between man and fire. Like the affinity between man and the sea, it has to reflect a primal tie that speaks to us from our origins, he thought.

  Somewhere, sometime in the dim, debated past, humanity rose from the sea. This he accepted. And somewhere, sometime, eons ago, we grasped the power of fire and bent it to our will. Yet, in what subtle fashion did the flames we forged forge us? he wondered. This is the part he did not understand. It is the aspect of us as a race that never appears in the paleontological dioramas or the displays of comparative evolutionary development at the major museums. We are the only animal to have tamed fire. Something happened in our evolution, in our climb from the tidal marsh to the shorefront home, that gave us dominion over fire. Fire has also become our master. Drummond studied the sizzling, groaning logs with satisfaction, momentarily enjoying the complexities of life that were not his responsibility.