by M J Kendrick
***
The next morning, Carlton sat at the kitchen table, eating his eggs and toast and nodding at the board, which he now had propped up on a chair facing him. When he had finished his coffee, he felt eager to get started, and said out loud, “Well, board, ready to get going?” Smiling to himself, he refilled his coffee cup and, with “board” in tow, he went to the nerdlab.
Once he had placed the board back in its usual position on the wall in front of his -workbench, he went into Per’s area and retrieved a small metal worker’s hand vice, which he placed on his workbench and carefully mounted the iridium block in.
He needed to take two small samples, which would take a while as the iridium block was an early rare earth metal ingot—RMI for short—and extremely hard. This was one of the first grown, triple-walled, nano tube iridium matrix ingots that had been alloyed, in this case with osmium, a fact that he hadn’t shared with the other Smarties. To them, it was just a piece of iridium, its real makeup a closely guarded secret.
Carlton was grateful to be able to work with the ingot while he was on his own. It made things easier. If the others saw just how hard it was going to be to retrieve the samples, it might raise questions, and he didn’t relish the thought of having to waffle his way through explanations.
It took Carlton fifteen minutes and three drills just to get a few grains. It was enough, though, for what he needed. The filing, however, was less fruitful and took three long, hard hours before he had a miniscule amount of ingot dust. It was just enough to use on a slide for the Omni prototype electron microscope, which he very carefully mounted.
Carlton needed a break. His hands were blistered and shaking a little from the physical exertion of filing. He decided to take a shower and make a sandwich before getting into the analysis as it would take some time, and he wanted to feel comfortable before he settled down for the long haul.
Two hours later, having showered, eaten, and changed into a comfortable pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, he was back at his bench and analyzing the larger grains under the electron microscope. After a while, he noticed that the grains had oriented themselves into certain positions.
He removed the sample to confirm the fact with a magnetometer only to find a zero reading. Using Haru’s shot glass magnifiers, he saw that the grains had returned to a random configuration when they were back on the bench. He sat quietly, thinking through what other factors could be in play that were specific to the electron microscope. It had to be an electrical field of some sort. The only way to measure if that was the case would be to get in touch with Lucy. She and Carlton had joked about how she would measure her own brain electrical activity in her room when she was writing up one of her biology dissertations. She must have a sensitive meter somewhere that he could use.
Carlton Skyped Lucy, and for the next hour, they chatted and joked. She told him where she kept her field intensity measuring device and how to carefully use it, as it was designed for use on the human body, although it was sensitive enough to pick up ambient or stray fields if the contact pressure pads were stripped of their shielding.
Carlton followed her instructions and, after carefully setting everything up, saw that the VU meter on the readout display showed that there was indeed an extremely weak electrical field present in the chamber. It barely registered, but it was definitely there.
Carlton searched for his post-it pad to feed the results to “board.”
Looking around everywhere and quietly cussing, he remembered it was still in his good lab coat pocket hanging on the door.
As he put his lab coat on, his hand found the familiar square shape in his left pocket. He pulled it out, and, using his new pen, he began writing as he walked back to his bench. He placed the pad on the bench and sat down, scooching his chair in closer to his bench.
He leaned forward to continue writing, and as his right hand passed quickly over the small tray holding the iridium grains, the pen gave a single click and a very brief flash!
Carlton froze.
In an instant, he realized he wasn’t wearing his watch, so why... ?
He moved the pen back over the few small grains. The pen began to slowly click and flash. He moved the pen back and forth again. The same thing happened again. He turned the sensitivity to the max and repeated his wave... with the same results.
He quickly went over to the iridium block, and before he was within six inches of it, the pen began to rhythmically click and flash.
The iridium block had been irradiated!
Carlton’s mind was racing. He began pacing around as he frantically pieced together the facts. After a few moments, he stood in front of the board and started talking to himself out loud. “Okay, so we now know that the clamp carried some electrical charge, probably caused by a short . . .”
He grabbed the original notes and leafed through the pages to check the setup that was used. “Yes, here it is, a standard mini LED to illuminate the forming ingot. That would explain how an electrical current was present. It must have exposed the wiring. The melt scar . . .”—he was pointing to the corresponding post-it note—“. . . was at the top part of the clamp. That is where the head of the LED would have been located.”
His brow furrowed. “Now, we know that is always the weakest point, as it’s where the wires are soldered to the LED’s bulb connections and most likely where the wiring became exposed through wear and tear, eventually coming into contact with the clamp, thus sending an electrical charge up to the iridium block.”
The iridium block wasn’t known at that time to be slightly irradiated—that must have happened when Bellows had it in his lab. Freddie did say he was working with isotopes. The iridium must have had a brief exposure.
Carlton once again raided Haru’s workspace to locate one of his improvised testers that could be set to deliver fractions of a volt to delicate circuitry.
Then he isolated one of the grains, and, using the tester, applied a fiftieth of a volt.
The grain just disappeared.
Thinking he must have blown it away with his breath, he enclosed the grains in a clear, plastic container and tried again. He immediately saw the grain shoot to the edge as soon as the minute charge was applied.
He had solved the mystery of the accident.
It only took a few moments of realization before Carlton started to get a feel of the enormity of what he had just learned—if he was right, then it meant that colossal levels of power could be produced with mere fractions of electrical current.
He started shaking.
He needed to carry out more thorough experiments using a larger piece of the ingot to explore and define the properties and forces that were being produced. He would devote the rest of the day to cutting off a piece to use.
Tomorrow’s dissertation defense would only leave him two days of experiments and testing before the other Smarties returned, and, for now, he wanted to keep this a secret. At least until he could figure out the substantial implications of what this discovery meant. He already knew that he was going to need help, but whomever and however he would, or even could, involve others was too much to contemplate at the moment. Right now, he had to gather more information and facts as quickly as possible and then, hopefully, a direction would present itself.
***
Carlton had breezed through the nano tech dissertation defense in record time. He had found it relatively easy and felt he probably could have taken it months ago. He took the remaining allocated time for the exam to relax to the point of nearly dozing off.
He hadn’t had much sleep the night before, as he couldn’t stop his thoughts from racing through the implications of the previous day’s activities.
Finally, he was released from the exam, and he raced home to continue in the nerdlab.
By three fifteen, he was ready to begin, planning to continue for as long as he could remain awake.
Carlton had measured the level of radiation in the iridium ingot the previous night and found it was c
onsiderably less than that of any standard “glow in the dark” watch, so he knew it was safe to handle. Conscious of the damage caused during the original accident, Carlton used Miles’s work area to fabricate an enclosed two pieces of square steel block to hold the sample, which could be bolted securely down to a solid surface. He then accumulated every piece of available monitoring equipment that he had access to, and, despite being a challenge, he managed to attach everything to the two-part steel housing.
He had set his voltage to a 100th of a volt, and before long was ready to nervously begin.
Carlton started all of the monitoring equipment and switched on the power. At 1.2 volts, the readings leveled off and showed no further increase. The force meter was holding steady at just 675 pounds.
“No wonder the block ejected,” he said to himself.
He repeated the experiment, moving the block each time to measure any variations in the results. The readings suggested to Carlton that the produced force was not directional or focused.
Carlton went back to the iridium sample and began to rerun the full tests again so that he could repeat the experiments using the whole iridium ingot. The next day, he would have a full set of data to work with and analyze over the coming weeks. If nothing else, the one thing he did already know was the fact that this discovery would change his life forever.
Chapter Seventeen
“Anyone seen Carlton?” asked Lucy from the kitchen. It was her turn to prepare dinner, and she was expertly creating a chicken pasta salad for everyone.
The boys loved it whenever it was the girls’ turn because, to this day, none of them had managed to get their quantities right whenever they cooked, so every four days out of eight, there would either be complete meat-fest of too many sausages, steaks, and grilled chicken or a not-so-appetizing, hastily prepared, basic salad and snacks. But regardless of whoever’s turn it was, all of the Smarties looked forward to Friday as it had become their traditional pizza day.
“He’s still in his room,” replied Per from the lounge.
“There’s a shocker,” said Calisto as she helped Lucy lay the large kitchen table that had become the hub of their socializing.
“He’s been locked away in there for months. Someone go and give him a knock,” said Lucy loudly as she tilted her head toward the door. “Dinner’s nearly ready.”
“I’ll go,” called William from the lounge.
***
Carlton had purposely kept himself away from the others. He’d needed time alone to complete his analysis, and whilst he loved all of the friendly banter that always happened between the Smarties, right now he needed to remain focused.
For the past three months, he had spent every waking moment concentrating hard on his results and had managed to compile a comprehensive portfolio outlining a program that he would use as a guide on taking his project forward.
Carlton had found relaxing impossible, his mind always running on overdrive, so when he needed to take a break, he would just switch to his MIT studies.
He had remained one of MIT’s top achievers and enjoyed his studies immensely, but it was never very long before his thoughts always returned to his project.
Spring break was nearly upon them, and he would use that time to go back home and investigate more about Bellows’s work, but, before that, he had to put a few things in place, and for that he would need William’s help.
There was a knock on the door.
“Carlton, you there?” It was William.
“Hi Wills, come on in,” called Carlton. This was perfect.
As William entered, he said, “Hi, stranger, the girls are on dinner duty. Are you gonna come down?”
Carlton smiled over his rumbling stomach. “Yep, definitely, I’m starved, but if you have a minute, I’d like to talk to you about something.”
William was a little intrigued. Carlton had never asked for advice of any kind before, so he wondered what was troubling him.
“Sure,” he said. “What’s up?”
Carlton was sitting at his desk; he swiveled his chair around and pointed to the bed. “Close the door and have a seat. I need to tell you something.”
After fifteen minutes of Carlton running quickly through his discovery, covering only the main points, Carlton said, “Look, there’s so much more, but I need to eat something. Let’s go down and continue after dinner.”
He looked dazed. He, too, was beginning to see the implications. “I take it you’re not telling everyone about this,” he said.
Carlton stood up. “Not at the moment, there are some things I must do first, so for now, this must be kept just between the two of us. I’ll explain all later, but for now, no one else must know.”
William felt a little humbled that his friend chose to confide in him. His mind was already starting to think about how he could help, and, like all of the Smarties, had grown a deep loyalty toward each other.
His inner feelings had always told him that Carlton would be special, but he also underestimated just how much he put his friend’s aims above his own. He could see an exciting direction from Carlton. One that was potentially bigger than anything he could ever achieve. He secretly hoped that even this early on, Carlton would include him in his plans.
They left his room to join the others.
As they entered the kitchen, the other Smarties were already deep into the usual joking banter surrounding their daily exploits at MIT. As soon as Carlton and William sat down, they, too, joined in. Carlton found himself starting to relax and unwind as he told of his latest search for yet another lost pen amongst the growing piles of dissertations that were now building up on his overloaded desk, the jovial distraction easing his stress.
William, on the other hand, was noticeably less boisterous than usual but put on a good show. Carlton knew that it was because of what he had just learned, so he made a point of drawing the conversations away from him.
“So you’re actually going back home for the break,” said Lucy. Carlton wondered if she was angling for an invite to join him.
“Yep, haven’t seen the folks in a while now, and it will be good to take a break from studying for a while. What are your plans?”
“Oh, the same,” she said. “Mom’s arranged a big family get-together, so I’ll be roped into helping with that. Should be fun though. You know how us Rondstats like to party!”
The Smarties all laughed, and the conversation reverted back to the admission party as they recalled the state of their parents.
Once dinner was over and the table cleared, the Smarties drifted back to their rooms. William made some fresh coffee, and taking two cups, he joined Carlton in his room, which Carlton gratefully accepted.
“I couldn’t help but notice how thoughtful you were over dinner,” said Carlton. “Now you understand how I’ve been these last few months.”
William was nodding but looking serious. “Carlton,” he began, “this could be huge. I know you’ve only explained a kind of overview, but if this thing turns out to be a fraction of what you're telling me, then I have to ask if you are fully aware of what danger something like this could represent.”
Carlton was nodding in agreement the whole time William was speaking.
“Actually,” he said, “I’ve thought of nothing else. Whichever way I use this technology, I run into issues about the effects it could have on others. Like, for example, a company that will lose out because I’ve used the tech to develop a way to run a conveyor belt and make electric motors obsolete, and that’s just for starters.”
William leaned forward, and looking very intense, he said, “Carlton, I don’t think you’ve even touched the tip of the iceberg. The potential this discovery has is global and could affect every walk of life. However you decide to use it, you are going to be challenged. Believe me, I know. I’ve been around this kind of thing my whole life with my dad’s pharmaceutical businesses. Every time there was news of a breakthrough, there was pressure from competitors, the stock market,
the government—in fact, just about everyone wanted a say. There were always legal battles and delays, you name it.”
Carlton was looking troubled. “I hadn’t explored that side, but now that you’ve said it, it worries me.”
William looked sympathetic. “It should worry you. It’s a well-known fact that historically any major invention or discovery is always met with opposition. The commercial side doesn’t happen for quite some time. Now, I know you’re not as commercially minded as many, but because of the commercial potential this could have, people will stop at nothing to get it, or, more worryingly, keep it off the market.”
“That’s exactly why I wanted to talk to you about this first,” said Carlton. “My plan is to further develop the discovery. I’ve a few ideas that I want to explore, but it’s going to take some money. I’m not too concerned about that side of it yet as it’s still early days, but I will tell you that I want to work on ways to increase the force that’s produced. I can do that here, but looking ahead, I’ll need a better place to work and, more importantly, a way that I can do that without drawing attention.”
William leaned forward again. “So it looks to me that you’re going to make this your career. Can’t say I blame you. To me, it’s a no-brainer, but there’s one other major issue here that you haven’t considered.”
“Oh, what’s that?” asked Carlton.
“Well, technically, your iridium block is owned by Omni, as is all of the equipment. The block was irradiated in their labs, etc. No matter how supportive of you they are, given the magnitude of this and its potential commercial value, which could be astronomic, means that if they choose to claim the discovery or the intellectual property that led to it as theirs, then they may have the grounds to mount a strong legal case. That level of revenue can be a very powerful motivator. You could lose it all!”
Carlton’s jaw dropped. He was lost for words.
William leaned back and gently smiled. “Don’t look so worried. You wouldn’t be the first or last to be faced with this scenario, and there are always ways and means.”