The Fire and the Anvil

by Michael Galloway

  “I first started by mimicking bees,” Dr. Ferganut said. “I wanted to design a scout device for maneuvering in tight spaces. I was hoping to use them for recon or for rescue workers trying to get into collapsed buildings.” He held out a bee device for John to examine. He then turned to Captain but Captain put up a hand.

  “Don’t worry. They don’t have stingers,” Dr. Ferganut reassured him.

  John cradled the device in his hand. He took multiple pictures of it from several angles. The device was the size of a large bumblebee with black-and-yellow coloring, a glossy metallic finish, and thin plastic wings one-and-a-half times larger than a real bee’s wings. It was as heavy as a dime. “When did you first make this?”

  “Just after I got married to Evelyn. I spent months studying different types of flying insects—dragonflies, cicadas, bees, fruit flies. I settled on bees for my first prototypes and then I set up a high-speed camera to try and break down how a real bee’s wings moved. I made tons of drawings and test models out of balsa wood before going miniature. I finally got some prototypes up and running but I had a bear of a time getting their navigation systems right.”

  He paused and picked up another bee and held it up to the light. “When Maddie was little I used to take a handful of these into the backyard and had them do stunts in the air. She used to get so excited when I had them do loops and when they would fly back into the hive.”

  “The hive?” Captain said.

  Dr. Ferganut pointed at an object that looked like an orange plastic soccer ball resting on a trapezoidal wooden platform. “It was a holding space for them. But it doubled as the nerve center for the swarm. It housed a primitive AI system and data from each bee was fed back into it. The bees could come and go and get reloaded with flight instructions.”

  John leaned over and peered inside the hive. He took a few pictures.

  “Go on, pick it up,” Dr. Ferganut said.

  John set the bee down and picked up the hive. It was lighter than a soccer ball and so he studied it from multiple angles. Inside he could see a disco-ball-like orb hanging down in the middle as well as a platform where the bees could land and take off. He did not see any other electronics although the floor of the hive was covered with a thin sheet of metal. “Did you ever do anything else with them besides using them as scouts?”

  “No. They were too little. And I could never completely figure out some of the random crashes they had. One time a swarm of them got attracted to the power line in the backyard. It didn’t end well and I had to call the power company because the transformer shorted out. Maybe I needed to talk to more people who did research on swarm intelligence.”

  Dr. Ferganut then directed them to a set of clear plastic boxes filled with shiny black pellets. Some pellets were the size of quarters while others were the size of dimes. “And here are the pellets you use in your storm research.”

  “I always wanted to know. How’d you test these?” John said.

  “Well, I only had weather balloons. It was tricky to try and get them into the right place in the storm. But somehow I got enough data over the years to begin to piece together some theories about the dynamics of the storm development. I made great headway one afternoon right before a tornado tore through my area. I pretty much nailed the path it would take. I even called the local Weather Service office ahead of time. I don’t think they believed me at first, but after the storm came through they called me back.”

  “And?” John said.

  “When I tried to describe my system it was like they didn’t fully believe me. It didn’t help that the radio antenna I had in the backyard got wrecked in the storm. All I had left was the data on my laptop. I sent it to them anyway but I didn’t have enough funds for awhile to rebuild the antenna.”

  “What made you decide to work on sensors?”

  “I was always fascinated by storms as a kid. The way the clouds moved and how such things could create rain, hail, and wind. And tornadoes. I thought maybe I could contribute some ideas about the smaller-scale dynamics of storms.”

  Dr. Ferganut continued to direct them further along the workbench. “And here’s the most famous device…the wirefly. I first tested this in northern Minnesota in a remote lab I set up in a cabin in the woods. It’s modeled after a dragonfly and can fly autonomously for several miles and take black-and-white footage. You already used a couple of these before.” He picked up one of the devices and dropped it into John’s open hand. He tossed another one over to Captain. Captain caught it and held it in the palm of his hand.

  John set the device back onto the workbench and snapped several close-up pictures. This version looked similar to the ones Dr. Ferganut launched into the fire earlier in the day. It too was metallic green in color with shiny plastic wings that matched the size of a real dragonfly. On the bench he noticed other wireflies, some smaller, some larger. “How many versions are there?”

  “Right now, three. The first model in the back there was a foot long with a two-foot wingspan. I crashed a dozen prototypes when I tried to transfer the ideas from the bee wings to this device. I even broke a neighbor’s window. I wish I would have studied some other designs first before wasting so much time on it. But by version three…” He pointed to another set of wireflies on the bench. “It became more of a long-range scout. I was able to perfect the legs so that it could pick up objects.”

  “Are these the cameras? Where the eyes are?” John said as he held the device back up to his face.

  “No. The eyes are actually sensors. The camera is located on the underside near the head. It looks like a small black bump. The resolution isn’t the greatest, but I’m working on that problem, too.”

  By this time, Captain worked his way down toward the end of the bench. He set down the wirefly and picked up a hand-sized silver-colored object that looked like a centipede. “What is this for?” He asked as he held it up by the head and let the rest of its segmented body dangle down toward the floor.

  “Glad you asked. That’s some of my latest work. It’s a metal centipede. Be careful of the front jaws on that thing. They’re sharp. It’s something I didn’t really want to create.”

  “So why did you create it?” John said.

  “Because of this.” Dr. Ferganut reached over and held up a black robotic spider. “I believe these are similar to the spiders you and Madeline found at the St. Patrick’s carnival last year. You said these were made by Dr. Amalynth, correct?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I couldn’t get the spider I found to come back to life so I created a few imitation ones for testing. Then I built the centipedes in case the spiders ever returned. The front pinchers can cut the carbon nanotube lines that the spiders spin. And they can take the legs off the spiders and render them useless.”

  Captain quickly set the centipede back onto the workbench. “How’d you get the legs to work?”

  “It wasn’t as hard of a problem as the winged insects. Want to see a demo? Here,” Dr. Ferganut picked up one of the centipedes and set it onto the middle of the carpet. He then grabbed one of the imitation robotic spiders and set it running a few feet away on the floor. He withdrew a remote control box from his desk drawer, extended the box’s antenna, and thumbed the controls. The centipede came to life and pounced on the spider a moment later. It wrapped itself around the spider until it made a ball. When it relaxed its grip the spider fell out with all of its legs removed. The centipede then returned back to its starting position.

  “Crude, but effective,” Dr. Ferganut said. “I hope I never have to use them.”

  “That’s amazing,” Captain said as he continued to study the device. “How many of these have you made?”

  “A couple dozen.”

  John took more pictures and then spotted a five-gallon aquarium full of water on a table next to the workbench. The bottom of the aquarium was covered with a layer of bluish-gray gravel but otherwise was empty. “Where are the fish?”

  Dr. Ferganut picked
up a silver minnow-like device from the table and held it up for John and Captain to see. “Robofish. It’s my next project. I’ve got the basics of locomotion down, but not much else. No cameras or anything like that. I can’t believe how difficult it is to emulate real fish. You’d think after conquering wings and legs that fins would be easy. Here, watch this.” He dropped the robofish into the tank and picked up another remote control box. In seconds the robofish sprang to life and motored around in circles in the tank.

  John watched in rapt fascination as the fish circled about. “I’m stunned. You’re making great progress on this.”

  “Heh,” Dr. Ferganut said. “I’m afraid if I dropped it into a lake it would get swallowed by a real fish.”

  “Is this something you’re developing to deal with Dr. Minton?” Captain asked.

  “No. I mean, I hope it doesn’t come to that. But it’s funny now that you mention it. A lot of my more recent work seems to lean toward countering whatever he is doing or thinking of doing. It pains me to say that. I used to think of myself as somewhat of a pacifist. That’s why I refused certain military contracts.”

  “Do you think he’ll ever get caught?” John said as he panned around the room with the camera in his cell phone.

  “I don’t know. But if it ever escalates with him, this time I’ll be ready.”

  “How so?”

  “Oh, I have other…projects in the pipeline.”

  “Can we take a look at them?” Captain said with eagerness in his voice.

  “I’m not ready to show them yet. They have a few…issues that need to be worked out. Let’s just say I haven’t given up on winged creatures yet.” His last comment ended with a broad smile. “The problem is that Julius always thought he was above the law. He’s quite the escape artist, too. So while the rest of us play by the rules, he won’t.”

  “But is he as good as Captain Avalanche here?” John said.

  “Why do they call you that anyway?” Dr. Ferganut asked as he turned to face Captain.

  “Because I always find the best escape routes when chasing. Not that John ever follows them. Plus I’ve had more than a few near-death experiences.”

  “One time he escaped an avalanche when he was snowmobiling in Montana,” John said. “Dug his way out. It’s quite the story.”

  “I’d love to hear it sometime,” Dr. Ferganut said. “I used to ride snowmobiles myself when I was younger. We should probably wrap this up for tonight. I have more in the basement lab. Like a metal water strider I’m working on. It’s also where I house the AI nerve center for some of these machines. But I’ve probably said too much. Is Madeline coming down tomorrow?”

  “Sounds like it. Are you guys going to be okay?” John said as he turned off his cell phone.

  There was a hopeful but sobering look in Dr. Ferganut’s weary eyes. “I don’t know. But we should all go get some rest. After what I saw today, I have a feeling we might have another long day ahead.”

  Chapter Five

  As John reclined on the couch and ate a bowl of Frosted Flakes, he typed notes into his laptop computer based on the cell phone video he took the night before. He cross-referenced the pictures he took and made a valiant attempt to outline all the information he collected so far.

  He also checked the weather a few times this morning as there was a hint of storms coming this afternoon. After yesterday’s unexpected events, he worried that Dr. Minton might try to take advantage of an atmosphere more conducive to storm development. According to the weather maps, a cold front was drifting toward the region from Montana. The storms would not be drought-busters and they would not offer much in terms of chasing either. Despite ample shear in the upper levels of the atmosphere, the temperature profile was not optimal for strong instability.

  John dwelt on the profile a moment and then looked up at the painting of the man with the red umbrella on the living room wall. It struck him as a work of melancholic reflection as if the artist had just experienced a heartbreaking loss and felt the urge to capture the emotion on canvas. Despite the red umbrella, the other colors seemed to run together toward the bottom of the painting as if the canvas was left out in the rain. The painting stood apart from the others on the wall because it was so concrete and lacked abstraction.

  Suddenly, the front door to the living room burst open as Captain walked in. Today he wore a plain green tee shirt and black jeans. “Where’s the professor?” He said, almost out of breath.

  “In the kitchen I think,” John said.

  “You both ought to come outside and take a look at this.”

  John set aside his laptop and joined Dr. Ferganut on the front steps. First, John scanned the skies and the hills surrounding them. He did not see any sign of fire and only picked up on the faint smell of smoke. Puzzled, he stared at Captain.

  Captain held up a hand to keep Dr. Ferganut from walking on the lawn. He crouched down and pointed at the grass. “Look at this. If you look at the right angle you can see some kind of spider web material all over the lawn.”

  John knelt down and eyed the webs. He plucked off a piece and rolled it between his fingertips. It was black but crumbled when he stretched it. He was sure it was a variant of the carbon nanotube thread Dr. Amalynth developed. The web crisscrossed the lawn in a grid-like pattern and stretched around the perimeter of the house.

  He then searched the edge of the grass and at once found one of Dr. Amalynth’s robotic spiders. He reached into the grass and picked it up. Its legs did not move and it was covered in dew. “Found a spider.” He held it up for the others to see.

  Dr. Ferganut took the spider, turned it over, and then dropped it onto the driveway. He stomped on it with the heel of his brown cowboy boot. Robotic spider parts shot out in all directions. “Let me go get the centipedes.”

  John stood silent but his mind raced with thoughts of what was coming next. Was someone trying to turn the entire yard into a giant conductor?

  Dr. Ferganut reappeared with a tan cardboard box. He knelt down at the edge of the grass and dumped out four metallic centipedes. The centipedes scattered themselves around the lawn and went about cutting the carbon nanotube threads and disabling any robotic spiders in their path.

  “Was he trying to electrocute us or what?” Captain said in bewilderment.

  “Or burn the place down when the storms moved in later today,” John said.

  The silver centipedes snaked their way to the edge of the lawn and then raced in unison toward the backyard. John set foot onto the grass and picked up a handful of the carbon nanotube threads with his hand. He handed the threads over to Dr. Ferganut to examine.

  Dr. Ferganut lifted his glasses, held the threads up to the sun, and shook his head. “He must have done this while we were out chasing. Drew us out of the house and then set a trap.”

  In minutes the centipedes returned to the front yard and raced toward Dr. Ferganut with alarming speed. He bent down and set the cardboard box onto the driveway. The centipedes scaled the side of the box and piled inside. He scooped up the box, put the lid back on it, and held it under his arm.

  Just then the telephone rang inside the house. He ducked back inside. John followed while Captain studied the lawn for a few more minutes.

  “Hello?” Dr. Ferganut said as he picked up the receiver in the kitchen. The telephone was styled like a wall-mounted rotary phone but contained all electrical parts. It looked as if it belonged in a saloon rather than an inventor’s house.

  He listened a moment and then toggled a switch on the phone so that the conversation could be heard on the speaker. “How’d you get my number?” He asked.

  “The same way you find out many things, Jim. Research. Diligent research,” said the man’s voice on the other end of the line.

  “My number’s unlisted.”

  The man chuckled. “Depends who you ask.”

  The man’s voice matched that of the motorcycle rider who visited John’s home church last summer. John and Madeline greeted
the man as they were leaving the service but something about the man’s demeanor bothered John ever since.

  “Did you enjoy your road trip yesterday?” The man continued. “Did my demonstration meet your approval?”

  “That was you? You could have burned a lot of houses down with what you did.” Dr. Ferganut glanced over at John.

  “Ah, no. It was all in good fun. Just like back in college. Do you remember those days, Jim?”

  Dr. Ferganut gave John an incredulous look. “What days? I don’t know you anymore.”

  The man on the phone let out a long sigh. “Let me refresh your memory. Do you recall some of the games we used to play? I seem to recall a particular game of Stratego you were losing. You quit before I could finish you off.”

  “Why did you call me?”

  “The way I see it, Jim, it’s my turn now. But this time you can’t walk away.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “Jim, Jim, come now. Let us reason together. You’re the one who ran off. Besides I think you’ve been holding back on us all.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your work. Your inventions. It’s clear you’re holding back. I haven’t seen much of your face in the press lately, Jim. And you’ve disappeared from the lecture circuit altogether. That can only mean one thing. You’re getting obsessed with finishing something, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t know what you mean. Don’t ever call here again.”

  “Oh come on now. Don’t be coy. So tell me, Jim, are you up for finishing our game?”

  “I’m going to hang up now.”

  At this point Captain entered the living room with his hands full of disabled spiders. He dumped them onto the coffee table and listened in on the conversation.

  The voice on the other end of the phone line turned dark and serious. “There’s more than one way to draw you out, Jim. You can’t fool me forever. I’ll find the flag, Jim.”

  At that the phone call ended with a click. A dial tone soon followed and filled the house. Dr. Ferganut hung the receiver up with a slam. He hobbled into the living room. “Is Madeline on the road?” He said to John.