Close Up the Sky

by James L. Ferrell

  She flushed and gave him a narrow-eyed look. “Don’t get smart.” The retort made them both laugh.

  "Good evening," said a pleasant voice. They looked up to see the physicist standing beside their table. He took a seat and introduced himself to Leahy. “I’m Dr. Richard Durant. I hope we haven't inconvenienced you beyond reason, Lieutenant Leahy," he said in a friendly manner.

  "No sir, not at all." They both knew it was a polite lie.

  "I understand you had a little trouble on the way in," he said to Taylor.

  "Yes, but it was unavoidable." She gave him an abridged version of the incident in the desert.

  He turned to Leahy. "Please accept my apologies, Mr. Leahy. That was unforgivable and extremely dangerous. I've discussed it with Colonel Pope, head of our military forces here, and he has assured me he will take corrective action."

  "Thank you, sir, but apologies aren't necessary. They were only doing their jobs. I've been in worse situations."

  Durant smiled and nodded. "I'm sure you have, but we can't afford to place you in a position of danger. You're very important to us."

  Leahy looked at the man who supposedly held the answers to all his questions. He had a straight, narrow nose that divided his face almost perfectly between prominent cheekbones. His eyes were pale blue and gleamed with intelligence, but dark circles marred the skin beneath them. The eyebrows were almost as white as his hair, and from the age spots on the backs of his hands, Leahy guessed him to be in his late sixties. He wore the standard lab coat, but it did little to hide the thinness of his body. It was the appearance of a man who had too much responsibility and got too little sleep. He dipped his spoon into a steaming bowl of soup and sipped it gingerly. Except for a cup of black coffee, the rest of the food tray was bare.

  We gave Matt the grand tour before landing,” Taylor said. Her elbows were propped on the table, chin resting on folded hands. She gazed at Durant affectionately, the way a daughter might look at her father.

  “Good,” Durant answered, as he continued eating the soup. “I’m sure it added considerably to his list of questions." He cut his eyes up at Leahy and smiled.

  "Taylor's done a good job of keeping me in the dark so far," Leahy responded, attempting to be amicable.

  "I know she has.......oh, do you mind if I call you Matt?"

  "I wish you would."

  "We really appreciate you taking everything on faith up to this point, Matt, but I believe you'll agree with our methods once you've been given a complete explanation. Everyone felt it would be better if I explained the situation in person, here at the facility. Anyway, I seriously doubt you would believe it under other circumstances." He pushed the food tray away, the soup almost untouched, and removed a well-used pipe from inside his coat. He looked at it longingly, and stuck it into his mouth.

  "Trying to give up smoking," he said, "but it's a powerful habit. Somehow I just can't seem to bring myself to part with this pipe. Sort of a security blanket I suppose."

  Leahy had broken the nicotine addiction five years before, and sympathized with Durant. There were still times when he felt as though he could smoke a cigarette ten inches long; like now.

  They all remained quiet for a few seconds, then Durant said, "I saw from your FBI file that you have no family other than your brother." He said it matter-of-factly. It was a true statement, but it made Matt feel uncomfortable. It was the kind of thing someone might say to a man who was not expected to live much longer. It prompted his response to be more aggressive than he intended.

  "Dr. Durant, I know the FBI did a background investigation on me at some point in the recent past, and after seeing what I've seen in the last couple of hours, I don't doubt you probably know as much about me as I do. In fact, everyone I've met since early this morning seems to be well acquainted with my personal life. Please don't misunderstand me sir, but I think it's time for leveling. What is this place, who are you, and what do you want with me?" He was trying hard not to be disrespectful or rude, but his patience was wearing thin. He had had enough small talk.

  "You're absolutely right, Matt," Durant responded. "Let's go to my office and I'll give you the whole story."

  Durant's office was somewhere in the maze of tunnels on the same level as the cafeteria. They took the golf cart through a series of short turns and parked it near a set of double doors marked FACILITY DIRECTOR.

  Matt attempted to mentally retrace their route, but could not. All the tunnels they had gone through appeared to be identical and were not color-coded. Viewed from the helicopter the building had seemed large, but judging from the elevator ride and the use of electric carts, he knew the underground area had to be immense compared with the surface structures.

  The doors opened into a reception area, but there was no one behind the receptionist’s desk. Durant ushered them across the room and into his private office. Matt was pleasantly surprised at the decor. The room was nothing like what he had imagined a scientist's office would look like. Instead of shelves loaded with books and a desk piled high with papers, everything was immaculate. In place of the ceramic tile he had seen throughout the complex, the floor was covered with royal blue carpet. Instead of overhead lights, decorative lamps on tables gave the surroundings a soft appearance. A big antique wooden desk with three plush chairs facing it dominated one side of the room. A color map of the Milky Way filled the entire wall behind it. He knew it had to be an optical illusion, but the celestial scene appeared to be alive. The stars pulsed and glowed in various colors, contrasting sharply against the blackness of space. It was like looking through a huge window from the interior of a spaceship. A massive grandfather clock stood against the opposing wall, its pendulum marking each second of time with precise strokes. Green plants in colorful pots were scattered about the room, creating a feeling of health and wellbeing. To say that he was impressed was putting it mildly.

  "Sit down, Matt," said Durant. "Would you like a cup of coffee while we talk?"

  "Yes, thank you. It's been a long day." As he sank into a chair he focused on the star map, mesmerized by the spectacular scene.

  "Lovely, isn't it?" said Durant.

  "It's the most amazing thing I've ever seen." As he stared at the map he saw a tiny spot of white light flare deep within a cluster of stars. The brilliance held for a few seconds then vanished. He leaned forward and squinted into the starry maze.

  "A nova," Durant explained. "The map was a birthday gift from some of the scientists and engineers here at the facility. I don't understand myself just how it works, but it certainly relieves the shut-in feeling you get from working underground too long. I've always loved star gazing, and this helps relieve the stress a little."

  Taylor walked across the room and opened a set of louvered doors in the wall. Inside was a small kitchenette where she busied herself making coffee.

  Durant moved behind his desk and picked up the telephone. Someone on the other end answered and he spoke briefly. "Jenny, I'll be working late in my office. Please hold the calls." He paused a few seconds, still holding the telephone to his ear. "Yes, he's in my office now. Tell Carl I’ll get back to him as soon as possible. Also, please ask Dr. Kasdan to join us.” He hung up and settled into his desk chair.

  "Matt, since your arrival you've had an opportunity to see some of the measures we've taken to ensure security at this facility. In addition to the electronics and helicopter patrols, we have an elite detachment of U.S. Marines on duty inside and outside the buildings twenty-four hours a day. It would take hours to fully explain the precautions necessary to see that no unauthorized persons gain access to the facility and to ensure that the technicians take nothing with them when they go off duty. In addition to the physical security, everyone working here has undergone a thorough background investigation. Most have either a secret or top-secret clearance. That's one of the reasons you weren't told anything about Apache Point until now. Rather than mislead you, we thought it best to tell you nothing at all. I believe you'll unde
rstand and agree with our methods very shortly. If you don't, you'll be free to go, just as though this meeting never occurred."

  Taylor started the coffee then sat down next to Leahy. She folded her hands in her lap and gave him an encouraging smile. He noticed she was squeezing her hands so tightly that the knuckles were white. Before they could continue, the door opened and a man wearing one of the long lab coats entered.

  Durant introduced them. "Matt Leahy, I'd like you to meet Dr. John Kasdan. John is Director of Middle Eastern Studies here at Apache Point." Dr. Kasdan appeared to be in his mid-forties, with a swarthy complexion and dark piercing eyes. His hair, once black, was streaked with gray.

  He offered his hand. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Matt. I hope you had a pleasant trip from Atlanta."

  “For the most part, sir,” Matt answered, venturing a glance at Taylor. He took Kasdan’s hand and held it momentarily. The man’s grip was firm, the hand cool.

  "There was a little incident in the desert on the way from the airport, John," Durant put in. "I'll explain it to you later."

  "Middle Eastern Studies?" Matt inquired of Kasdan.

  "Yes, I'm chief-cook-and-bottle-washer for everything with a Middle Eastern tag on it," Kasdan replied, smiling.

  "We've just begun our talk, John. I was about to indoctrinate Matt on the operation here at Apache Point," said Durant.

  "I see. I guess you're still in a mild state of confusion, huh Matt?" Kasdan asked as he sat down beside Taylor.

  "That's putting it mildly."

  Durant sucked on the empty pipe a few times as though it was lit, then began speaking. "As you may know, Matt, the Earth is composed of a certain number of natural elements, most of which have been identified and cataloged. However, a few years ago a team of geologists working in the Arizona desert discovered a substance they were unable to identify as any of the known elements. The sample was relatively small, only about the size of a grapefruit. They continued to excavate the area but failed to find any additional quantities. At first they thought it might be uranium because it emitted radioactivity, but uranium is a silver-white substance that can appear in a lot of different ores. This specimen was entirely uncontaminated by any other ore, and emitted a pale green radiance. Because of the radioactivity, they placed it in a lead-lined container and brought it back to the laboratory for additional study.

  "At that time I was chief physicist in the lab that was selected to work with the material. Over several months we ran a number of tests to determine what it was and if it could be useful in any scientific applications. During our studies we found it had an atomic mass and structure different from anything we had ever seen. Though it was radioactive, we were unable to establish any similarity between it and the known elements in the uranium series. It also didn't contain any lead, so we were unable to determine its half-life. We also learned that the radiation was harmless to humans.” He paused and leaned forward in his chair.

  "I know you're not a scientist, Matt, so if what I'm saying starts to sound like gibberish, please feel free to interrupt and ask questions. It's important that you understand the basics if not the complexities."

  "It's been a long time since I took physics and chemistry in college," Matt responded, "but I think I follow. The half-life of a radioactive element is a way to determine its age by measuring how much of its total volume disintegrates over a period of time, right?"

  Durant's eyebrows went up and a little smile lifted the corners of his lips. He seemed pleased that Matt was familiar with the term. "Exactly!” he replied, then went on. “During our studies we discovered the material consisted of several different isotopes, one of which was very close to plutonium. Since plutonium undergoes fission by absorbing a neutron, we decided to try neutron bombardment. Working with plutonium is dangerous under any circumstances, and because of the unknown qualities of this new substance, we took extra precautions to ensure that if any energy was released it would be kept under strict control.

  "Our newest reactor, built to the most stringent of technological specifications, was used for the experiment. To harness any released energy, we employed special moderators to absorb most of the free neutrons and restrain the reaction. Absolutely nothing should have been able to escape or enter the confines of the test chamber. Visual observations took place through special cameras strategically positioned in several places. When we were positive that all contingencies had been covered, we executed the test.” He paused as though reliving that moment, pondering his next words.

  Matt found himself leaning forward, almost as if the experiment was about to be recreated at that instant.

  After a few seconds, the scientist continued. “There was an instantaneous flash of green brilliance that obliterated the camera images coming from the reactor. Simultaneously, our instruments recorded the release of an enormous surge of energy. But instead of remaining constant as we expected, the energy level dropped to zero within a few seconds. When it subsided, the video image returned. It was at that moment that we realized we were dealing with something that didn't obey the physical laws of science as we know them." He exhaled deeply, and even though his pipe contained no ashes, he tapped it a few times on an ashtray.

  “The fission process hadn’t taken place at all,” he resumed. “That in itself was a phenomenon, but it was dwarfed to insignificance compared to the images the cameras were broadcasting. We were scarcely able to believe our senses." He paused and glanced at Taylor and Kasdan.

  Matt found himself holding his breath. "What happened?"

  "Here, in the middle of the desert, the entire floor of the chamber was covered with a foot of water and what appeared to be seaweed!"

  Chapter 5

  Durant's words hit like a thunderbolt. Leahy intellectually refused to accept what the scientist was saying, rejecting it as impossible, but instinctively knowing that it was true. His mind raced ahead of the story, trying to make sense of it, but found nowhere to go. He looked to Taylor for reassurance and found only silence. Her attention was riveted on Durant, as entranced by the narrative as he was.

  The scientist continued. "Our first thought was that the failure had caused a pipe to burst and flood the reactor floor. That would account for the water, but the presence of the seaweed was still a mystery. We performed a detailed examination of the reactor but failed to locate any broken pipes or damaged equipment. Except for the water and vegetation, everything appeared normal.

  "We also checked the radiation level before we entered the reactor chamber, but other than the emissions coming from the test substance, there was nothing. Because the flooding and power surge occurred simultaneously, it was obvious that the two events were connected. Certainly, nothing like it had ever happened before. However, we were dealing with a new element whose properties were almost entirely unknown. The water on the floor was about six inches deep, so we used a heavy vacuum to collect it then sealed it in airtight containers for analysis by our chemists.

  "While waiting for the results, we continued to work with the element. Since it couldn't be identified as belonging to any known group, we decided to call it stellarite. We removed it from the reactor and repeated our earlier experiments. It was then that we learned it had undergone a change from its previous composition. A new isotope had appeared, indicating that it was attempting to conform in some way to the uranium series of degeneration. The only problem was that the new isotope had apparently been independently formed by the fission test, and was therefore not a natural transformation."

  Leahy held up his hand, interrupting the narrative. "You're saying there was no trace of that particular isotope before the attempt at neutron bombardment?" He was confused about the testing procedure. Durant had said it was important that he understood, so he intended to ask as many questions as necessary for clarification, and if they sounded ignorant, so be it.

  "That's right. The test destroyed a minute portion of the stellarite, but the new isotope was insignificant when compared to the
remaining mass. Since there was no way to determine what the rate of transformation might be without further testing, we proceeded. We were reluctant to use the reactor again until the mystery of the water was solved, so we programmed the computers with all the information we had obtained from the initial test and ran a simulation.”

  Durant leaned forward. He stared intently at Matt, as though whatever he was about to reveal would go directly to the heart of the matter. "The computer simulation indicated that if the stellarite was subjected to another fission test, the quantity of the new isotope would exactly double. A third bombardment would double that quantity, and so on until the entire mass was transformed into the isotope, creating an entirely new element and totally destroying the stellarite. Since the rate of change was so small, the computer estimated we would be able to run almost unlimited tests before the transformation was complete. At the rate of one test per week, it would take almost two hundred years to use up the stellarite. Unfortunately, we didn't know how wrong we were." He trailed off, becoming pensive for a moment.

  A short beep came from the kitchenette. "Coffee's ready," Taylor announced. She went over and brought back three steaming cups of the strong black liquid, handing one to each of the men. The hot, bitter taste helped ease the tension Leahy was feeling. He had been listening closely to Durant’s story, alert for a clue as to how he fitted into this, but so far there was nothing.

  "Well, to continue," Durant said. He put the coffee down and clasped his hands, fingers interlocked. Leahy noted that he worked the fingertips nervously against the backs of his hands. "A few days after the computer test, we received the results from the chemists concerning the material recovered from the reactor room. Their analysis showed the liquid to be ordinary seawater. The plant material was identified as a marine plant, commonly called seaweed. That part of the report was no surprise since we already suspected it. But the second part was most amazing." He picked up his pipe and began playing with it.