by Jack Webber
"Hi John." she called out as he stepped into the room. "We're having a little trouble with our muon reactor today. Maybe you can help."
"Sure," John replied, "but what's up with reactor 2?"
"Oh, didn't Hank tell you? They're running a test on it today. It's not even hooked up to the grid. That's why it's white hot. All its energy is pouring out of the shell."
"Yeah I see." remarked John, rubbing his eyes. "Well I hope it's a short test. It's not good to run a reactor - white hot for more than a few minutes." He sat down next to Jane and looked at the monitor. "So what's up with our baby?"
"I've never seen these patterns before." she explained, pointing to specific areas of the screen. "This is our first muon enhanced reactor, so I suppose that has something to do with it." She paused for a moment as they both studied the screen. "But it wasn't doing this yesterday."
The system monitor presented temperatures, pressures and magnetic fields in swirling false colours. A casual observer might think he was watching Disney's Fantasia, but John had a gift for plasma physics. He saw the process intuitively, the way a fielder catches a flying ball - without numbers, without computation.
John moved the joystick about, very slowly and watched the colours change as he examined different areas of the reactor.
"I want to get a better look at the magnetic fields." he explained as he turned a couple of knobs on the monitor. The greens became more pronounced as they swirled about on the screen. "There's an impurity of some kind in the mix, an element that shouldn't be there. And I don't think it's the muons. They look ok."
"We could turn off the muons and see if the anomaly disappears." suggested Jane. "That would eliminate one variable."
John stared at the screen for several minutes, moving the joystick with one hand and adjusting the knobs with the other, and Jane wondered if he was listening to her at all.
Suddenly he set the joystick down and leaned back in his chair. "No, I don't think that would help. The stray atoms are already part of the mix. They were probably entrained in the muon stream, but they're there now, and they'll still be there even if you shut down the beam."
"Right." said Jane.
"If I can determine the impurity," John continued, "can you figure out where it is coming from? I mean, you know more about that particle accelerator than anyone. You practically built it!"
"Yeah, probably." she replied. "But you know, it's a big accelerator with thousands of components."
Now it was time for John to echo Jane's one word reply, "Right".
He went over to the simulator and called up his masterpiece, 135,000 lines of software that mimicked the behaviour of a burning plasma ball under magnetic confinement.
He transferred the running parameters of reactor 4 into his simulator with a simple cut & paste operation: the relative amounts of hydrogen and helium, the magnetic and electric fields, and the operating temperatures.
"Ok," he mumbled to himself, "let's toss in some impurities."
He tapped on his keyboard and added some nitrogen to the mix, as though some air had leaked into the system. Each reactor had several miles of plumbing at near perfect vacuum; a microscopic leak would not be unprecedented.
John looked at the swirling colours on the screen and compared them to Jane's monitor on the other side of the office.
"Could you back up just a bit, please?" Jane rolled her chair away from the desk, giving John an unobstructed view of the screen. "Nah, that's not it at all."
He took the nitrogen away and added some oxygen. The swirling colours changed, but they still didn't match. Next he tried 80 nitrogen and 20 oxygen, in other words, air. No good.
While John tried other combinations, Jane moved to another console and started a game of Tetris. She moved the falling bricks into place and tried to ignore John's mumblings. He'd come up with it pretty soon. She was on her third game when he declared victory.
"That's it." he announced, and indeed the two monitors looked almost identical. "Silicon, 3.5 parts per billion. It's not a perfect match, but pretty close."
Jane looked at John's simulation, then she turned back towards her system monitor. "Almost identical." she affirmed. "Very good. I probably could have figured it out in a couple months." she quipped, her green eyes sparkling.
John chuckled a little and replied, "Well it's your turn now. Where does the silicon come from? And don't worry, if you can't solve it today I'll probably figure it out in a couple months."
Jane closed her eyes and surveyed the particle accelerator in her mind. She was thinking out loud. "This is the first time we've run the beam for more than 24 hours, and it's the first time we've seen this problem."
She got up and went over to the fridge. "Ice tea?" she offered.
John shook his head, so she took one for herself and sat back down.
"What happens after 20 hours of operation? Things get hot. Circuits get hot. Integrated circuits, made of silicon. Surface atoms escape, boiled off by the heat."
Nothing pleased John more than watching a brilliant mind at work. It was a thing of beauty, like a Bach concerto.
"The chip would have to be exposed to the vacuum, if those silicon atoms are going to be entrained in the muon beam. Let's see... There are 5 or 6 sensors inside the accelerator that make critical measurements of the beam. I'll bet one of them is overheating."
"Sounds like you're on to it." said John enthusiastically.
"Yes I think so, but we have to stop the beam and send the technicians in right away, to look at those sensors. I suppose you can keep the reactor going if you like. It just won't be muon catalyzed."
John thought for a moment. "No, we may as well shut down the reactor and clear out the plasma. I'd like to get all the silicon out and start fresh with a new fuel mixture. Of course it's Hank's decision, not mine."
"Shall I call him? I think he's in his office."
"No!" John answered her just a little too quickly. Now he had to come up with an explanation. "I'm heading back to my office anyways. I'll stop by and talk to Hank on the way." John had to leave and right now.
Where has the morning gone!! It was almost time to meet Squanto, and that was an appointment he dare not miss!
He gave Jane a quick smile, trying to pretend this was just another day at work, then strolled out of her office and stepped onto the return walkway. She hardly had time to say goodbye.
SEVEN
John reached his office in record time. He took his lunch out of the fridge and placed it conspicuously on his desk, and sure enough Lily was coming down the hall. She bounced into the office next door, perky as ever. John listened in on the conversation.
"Hey Lily, ready for lunch?"
"Sure. Are we going out or ordering in?"
"It's a nice day - I thought we'd go to that little Thai place. It's been a while - what do you think?"
"Sounds great. Let me send this email and I'll meet you by the front door."
Predictably, Lily poked her head into John's office next. "Like to come with us for lunch?"
"No thanks." John waved towards his sack on the desk. "I brought my lunch today, and, I have to work on that reactor 4 problem."
"Oh yeah." replied Lily. "I heard about that. Well - maybe tomorrow." She skipped away, and just in time too. He had to go.
John stood in the back vestibule and watched Squanto's car drive up. She climbed out of the car and looked straight at him with a no-nonsense, down to business expression. Her short black hair was a bit wind-blown by the time she reached the door and stepped inside, and she combed it back into place with 5 quick strokes.
John handed her a visitor's badge, then turned towards the inner door. "Admit guest, badge number 327."
"John C. Larse. Welcome. Guest 327. Welcome." The door slid open and John led Squanto into the plant.
She knew the route by now. They walked in silence past offices, down long corridors, past checkpoints, and into a temporary building on the far side of reactor 1. This was
built centuries ago, when construction was at a fever pitch. It was suppose to be torn down once reactors 21 through 25 were operational, but you know how temporary trailers become practically permanent.
John chose this out-dated conference room for its isolated location. He was still amazed Squanto agreed to meet him here. It sure smelled like a trap, but Squanto knew no fear, and John was almost ready to take advantage of her self confidence. Almost.
"Coffee?" he offered as they entered the bright yellow conference room, which was unnecessarily spacious for two people.
"Yes." she replied. The ritual was proceeding according to script.
John stepped into the kitchenette and filled a small ceramic pitcher with steaming hot water, drawn from the "cooking" faucet. The water was almost hot enough to make coffee as is, but John put the pitcher in the microwave for an extra 90 seconds, just to make sure. The teacups on the shelf looked identical, but they weren't. Each had a tiny, imperceptible nick on the bottom ring, introduced by John's precise file. He pulled two cups off the shelf, one with a nick just ahead of the handle and one with a nick just behind. He filled them with hot coffee and carried them back to the large white conference table.
"Cream and sugar?" he asked, and she nodded. He went back to the kitchen and took his time, allowing the dance to proceed. He came back out, added cream and sugar to both cups, and sat down. After a polite pause he picked up his cup and gently, craftily, felt the underside of his cup with his little finger.
Yes indeed, she had switched the cups. He took a long drink, and she did the same in response.
John waited his turn, waited for her to initiate the transaction.
"Ok," she finally began, "5,200 leppas."
"Right." said John, taking another drink. Squanto was one of the few people who liked coffee, even on a hot summer day. John preferred coke, but that wasn't important now.
"No problem." he assured her. He pulled out his money card, placed his index finger along the side panel, and then entered all his codes, fast and furious. She was probably skilled enough to watch his fingers and commit his codes to memory, but she really didn't seem very interested. He passed the card over to her. "I'll let you enter your account number - wherever you'd like the funds."
Squanto studied the partially formed transaction. The amount was correct, and the status light showed blue; he had enough in the account to cover it. She entered her account number and touched the commit button, and that was that. She passed the card back and picked up her coffee.
"Business good?" asked John, after an awkward silence.
"Great." she replied. "Lots of people want to send their kids to Mars, and are willing to pay for it. It's a good thing you have a high paying job."
"Yeah." said John, draining the last of his coffee. "But it's a lot of money, even for me. My wife thinks I'm putting it all in some savings scheme, for the future."
At this point Squanto actually smiled. "If that's how you want to handle it." She put her cup down on the large white table with an air of finality.
"Ready to go?" John asked in response.
They walked back through the corridors to the back vestibule. John placed his hand on the inside panel and spoke to the computer. "Exit. Exit guest 327."
"John C. Larse. Goodbye. Guest 327. Goodbye."
They moved into the vestibule and Squanto pushed the call button, requesting a one passenger vehicle. She politely asked him to go back inside, but he resisted. "I just want to make sure you get on your way."
Now she was use to it. She was use to the entire process. After his first payment some 10 months ago, this happened every month, month after month.
A couple minutes later her car pulled up and John opened the front door for her. "December 13." she reminded him as she stepped outside. That was the date of their next appointment, and no, he wouldn't forget. John watched her pull away, and turned back towards the inner door.
EIGHT
"Enter." he directed, holding his hand against the panel.
"John C. Larse. Welcome."
John sat alone in his office, his door closed, his knees shaking. Should he carry out his plan next month or wait till January? He pushed the thought from his mind, took a bottle of water from the fridge, and splashed new life into his dry mouth.
After a few minutes his heart slowed to a regular rhythm and he reached for his lunch. He wasn't especially hungry, but he may as well eat. He couldn't even remember what he packed.
The sack lunch proved to be a disappointment: a cold chicken sandwich and apple sauce. He leaned back and nibbled on his sandwich like a squirrel. Some water, some apple sauce, some sandwich, some water.
What was he thinking? Could he really beat Squanto at her own game? Well there was no turning back now.
John tossed the paper sack into the waste basket and walked down to Hank's office, where they talked about reactor number 4, muons, impurities, the upcoming conference, and of course Squanto. Hank absorbed the information, nodding from time to time.
"Most people could buy a house for the money you're giving her, and I just don't think she's going to give you anything in return."
"I know." replied John.
"Then why are you doing it!" Hank demanded, banging his fist on the desk.
"I'd rather not say."
"You have a plan?"
"I'd rather not say."
"Ok." Hank paused for a moment. "Ok, I'd rather not know."
NINE
Ellare picked up his news pad and touched the download button. He selected the Ross Times and a few seconds later the headline appeared: "Fish Rediscovered Near Sea Floor Vents." He touched the animation icon and a silver-gray fish swam across the screen, its tail and fins moving in perfect synchrony. "Now that's a beautiful fish." admired Ellare. He was talking to himself, but Maria overheard.
"What fish?" she asked in surprise, as she put the last of the dinner dishes in the dishwasher.
"It's on the front page of the Ross Times." Ellare read the article and condensed it for her benefit. "They found four new species of fish near the Mid-Atlantic hydrothermal vents. They eat the smaller tube worms, which thrive on the nutrients near the vents. It's a pretty amazing ecosystem. ... Hmm. These are old fish; scientists thought they went extinct long ago. Well here they are! There's a picture of, um, some kind of halibut I guess. It's very pretty, the way it swims. I suppose a lot of fish have relocated to the cooler depths; we just don't know they're there."
"Life finds a way, doesn't it." replied Maria as she came in from the kitchen. She avoided the coffee table with practiced ease and sat down on the couch next to Ellare, who was turning virtual pages by touching the next button.
"Not much in the news today." He tapped the weather icon. "That's odd. Looks like a storm is headed this way." He called up the weather map, where arrows protruded from thick black clouds, indicating speed and direction. "Or maybe it'll pass to the north; I can't tell. No rain yet, but lots of heavy clouds."
"Rain?" asked Maria. "Why it's practically December!"
Steam from the boiling equatorial waters usually moved towards the colder pole, and condensed into welcome winter rains that refilled lakes and aquifers, while the summer pole dried up and baked under the hot sun. But weather was, and always will be, unpredictable.
"Yeah, that's a little odd," replied Ellare, "but I'm not complaining - we could use the water. We didn't really get our share last winter."
Ellare skipped past the comics, which weren't terribly funny today, and perused the sports section. "The Reds beat the Blues yesterday, 6 to 3. Bout time - we've lost the last five games." There were only two professional baseball teams in Antarctica, the Reds and the Blues, and they played in the one and only air-conditioned stadium. Ellare was a Reds fan, for no particular reason.
He put the news pad back on the table. "Not much happening today." he summarized.
Maria went over to her favourite recliner and started her computer. "Linux 21.13.58, speech enabled." a
nnounced the synthesized voice.
"You're workin tonight?" asked Ellare.
"No, just thought I'd send a couple of emails to our kids." Maria was referring to two girls and three boys that were assigned to them under the Big Brother Big Sister program. Part-time parents with few responsibilities; that suited them just fine.
"Oh that reminds me," said Ellare, gently trumping the stream of high-speed synthesized speech. Maria tapped the pause key, and Ellare continued. "You don't have to write to Allergion, he's coming over tomorrow. Tomorrow is Saturday you know, and he hasn't seen us in at least a month. I hope that's all right - I didn't think you had any plans."
"No plans." she replied. "That'll be great."
"He wants to come early if he can, maybe for breakfast, so if I'm still in bed, ..."
"No problem." she assured him. "We'll have breakfast and talk."
"Good, and then, maybe we can go to the zoo. They've got a new exhibit, giant cats. Lions and tigers, or something like that - cats big enough to eat a person. Or maybe we can go see the Reds play tomorrow. Allergion likes that."
Maria's computer was talking again, a subtle hint that the conversation was over. Ellare went into his bedroom, leaving Maria to her correspondence. He decided to work out on the treadmill, take a shower, and get to bed at a decent hour, in case Allergion came early.
TEN
Allergion's alarm went off at 7, and he sat up in a daze, wiping the sleep from his eyes and the fog from his brain.
"Where is everybody?" he wondered, as he surveyed his empty bedroom. A large wooden dresser stood in the corner where Frank's bed should have been. Then he remembered. "Oh yeah, I'm not in the foster home anymore."
It had been 9 months since the Hansons adopted him, and he still wasn't use to the change.