Renata already
had her license, insurance, and registration in hand when the officer arrived
at her door. She slid open the window and handed them over. He was younger than
her youngest nephew.
“Ma’am,
is there a reason you were going 85 mph?”
She
choked back the response, “Because my subcompact won’t go any faster,” and
instead answered, “It’s an emergency!”
“What
emergency?”
“It’s
hard to explain.”
“Try.”
“A young
man… well, younger than I am, older than you… he is about to make a terrible
mistake. I need to stop him.”
“What
sort of mistake? Do you mean suicide?”
“Yes!
Well, no…”
“Which is
it?”
“He is
about to do something foolish that could be dangerous. Please, this really is
an emergency.”
“Is this
foolish thing illegal?”
“I don’t
think the law covers it.”
“Then I
can’t help you, but it is all the more reason for you to arrive alive.” As he
handed her the ticket, he added, “Keep your speed down.”
She never
would get used to being lectured by baby-faced authority figures, but she
answered “Yes, alright.”
A roar
assaulted her eardrums and her vehicle lurched as the shock wave struck. The
officer was nowhere in sight, but the windshield of his patrol car had
shattered. She guessed her open window had altered the pressure effects enough
to save hers from the same fate. Straight ahead a mushroom cloud rose into the
air over the small town of Griffin, Missouri. Renata was sure nothing about
Konrad’s experiment could have caused a nuclear detonation, so this was
something else – very likely the same thing that had destroyed his father’s
experiment a decade earlier. At least that one had been conducted safely in
orbit. The traffic stop was a lifesaver. Had she been much closer to Griffin
the shock wave would have been lethal. In the passenger side mirror she saw the
officer crawling on his knees out of the ditch by the side of the road. He was
dazed but apparently unhurt. Renata put her car in gear, crossed over the
center median, and headed back toward home. She doubted that under the circumstances
the officer would follow and ticket her for the illegal U-turn.
The knock
at her apartment door came fully three weeks later.
“Renata
Grant?”
“Yes.”
“FBI
ma’am. I’m Agent Morrow, this is Agent Kerkorian.”
Both
agents wore black suits and white shirts, though Agent Morrow wore a blue tie
and Kerkorian wore a bolo string tie. Renata wondered if her string tie was a
violation of the Bureau’s dress code. She also wondered if Morrow practiced his
piercing glare in the mirror. Like the officer a few weeks before, both were
absurdly young.
“Come in.
I’ve been expecting you,” said Renata.
“And why would
that be that ma’am?” asked Morrow.
“Let’s
not play games,” she said. “You are following leads about Griffin and my
traffic stop is one of them.”
“We are
aware of your speeding ticket. What brought us to your attention, however, is
your telephone contact inside the blast zone shortly before the event.”
“I see
the NHS is still in the business of collecting telephone data. Surely there
were many calls in and out of the blast zone. What brought your attention to
mine?”
“Please return
the favor of refraining from games. Your contact was at or near ground zero.”
“Do you
talk?” Renata asked Kerkorian.
“No,” she
said.
“OK. Well,
that would be Konrad Masing, as I’m sure you know,” Renata said to Morrow. “I
worked with his father Gregor at CosmoTech Research for many years. Konrad has
spoken to me a few times about continuing his father’s work.”
“Was
blowing up Griffin Missouri his father’s work?”
“No, of
course not, and I’m sure Konrad didn’t intend any such thing. He was just
reckless. He didn’t think through the consequences.”
“So you believe
he was responsible?”
“I believe
you think he was.”
“Ms.
Grant…”
“Doctor
Grant.”
“Very
well, Doctor Grant. Please answer the question.”
“Yes. I’ve
little doubt he was responsible.”
“Why
didn’t you come to us immediately with this information?” he asked.
“It was
too late by then, wasn’t it? Besides, what if by some remote chance I was wrong?
What if the explosion was set off by a third party to destroy his work? It was
best to let you people look into it first without bias.”
“That was
an inappropriate decision. There are others who will want to ask you many more questions
about this.”
“‘Others?’
Do you mean other FBI agents?”
“Among
others, yes. But for our preliminary report, what can you tell us about Mr.
Masing? And, if you were aware of his plans, why did you not contact police to
stop him? I must tell you at this point that you have the right…”
“I know
my rights.”
“Good.
I’m also serving you with a warrant,” said Morrow, removing a document from his
jacket pocket. “We will be taking your computer and other devices for
analysis.”
Renata
accepted the warrant and dropped it on the coffee table without examining it.
“Yes, I
assumed you would. Please sit down. I’ll make tea and try to explain.”
“We don’t
want tea.”
“I do.
I’ll bring mugs for you too. Whether you drink from them or not is your
business,” said Renata.
The two
agents looked at each other. Kerkorian nodded. Both sat down on the apartment
couch. The couch was ugly with a floral pattern faded by sunlight, but it was
well stuffed and comfortable.
Shortly
after the teapot shrieked, Renata carried in three mugs, cream, and sugar on a
wooden tray. She set it on the table on top of the warrant.
Kerkorian
tried a sip without adding cream or sugar. “Mint?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m
out of Earl Grey,” she said.
“This is
fine,” said Kerkorian.
“I’m glad
it’s fine,” said Morrow with a hint of irritation. He left his mug untouched. “Can
you address my question now, Doctor Grant?”
“It began
with Konrad’s father,” said Renata. “As I told you, Gregor Masing and I worked
for the same research company up until a decade ago. I overstated the case when
I said I worked with him. We worked on completely different projects in the
same facility. Much of our work was classified – or at least was an industrial secret
– so each team kept its project very separate. Gregor’s last project was very
hush hush and ‘need to know.’ I didn’t need to know, but just from what I
picked up by crossing paths, I deduced it had something to do with dark energy.
Everyone on all the other teams was surprised when our parent company launched
Gregor’s device into low earth orbit. That was a huge investment for the
cheapskate accountants who ran it. He must have convinced them the project had
a very big upside if it worked.”
“Did it?”
“No, at
least not as planned. The payload blew up. You may remember the news report
with the lame cover story about an earth resources satellite that failed to
reach proper orbit.”
“No, I
don’t.”
“Yes, I
suppose you were too busy in high school to pay attention to such things. Well,
it wasn’t an especially big explosion, I should mention. Everything just seemed
to shatter. Fortunately it happened by design in very low earth orbit, so
atmospheric drag brought the pieces back to earth pretty quickly without further
littering orbital space. It was a several hundred million dollar loss for the
company – a major accounting disaster. So, the project was scrapped. Gregor
died just weeks afterward from a cerebral hemorrhage. Maybe stress over the
whole affair had something to do with it. I retired from the company a year
later. That was that until a month ago when Gregor’s son Konrad got in touch
with me.”
“Why you?”
“Because
his father liked me.”
“When you
say ‘liked’…”
“Yes, he
cheated on his wife with me. He must have shared this fact with Konrad, which I
find a little creepy. Konrad’s mom died not long after his father, so I guess
Konrad figured I was the closest thing to family he had left. It turned out Gregor
also left him detailed information about the experiment.”
“If the
project was classified, wasn’t that a violation of secrecy?”
“Yes,
yes. But I didn’t say it was classified. I said only that it was hush hush. I
have no idea what its formal status was or whether Gregor violated the law by
talking to his son. Anyway Konrad told me that Gregor had attempted to diminish
the Higgs field within a defined space. A device to do that was the payload
that broke up.”
“Higgs
field? I recall a fuss about a Higgs particle and CERN some years ago. Is that
related?”
“Yes, I’m
glad to see your attention wasn’t totally preoccupied by girls and football.”
“Why? I
mean, what would diminishing the field accomplish?” Morrow asked.
“The
Higgs provides particles with mass. Reduce the field and you reduce the mass.
Imagine the advantage to propulsion if you can make your craft lighter. Or the
advantage to any heavy lifting. Konrad believed that his father’s design was
sound, and that whatever went wrong with his experiment involved some
conventional failure such as a leaky fuel line, a problem with the conventional
power source, or some such thing. So he intended to duplicate the experiment.”
“Where
did he get the money to do that?” Morrow asked.
“Most of
the cost of the original was putting the device into orbit. Surprisingly, most
of what Konrad needed to build it on the ground was off-the-shelf technology and
relatively inexpensive, though he said it took all of his savings nonetheless. For
his conventional power source he could tie directly into the power grid. I warned
that there was probably a reason his father’s experiment had not been tried on
the ground. I suggested he show caution and assemble a team rather than go it
alone. But I saw nothing in any of this that actually was police or
FBI-worthy.”
“But
something alarmed you enough to speed toward him on the day of the Incident.”
“On the
morning of what you call the Griffin Incident, Konrad called to tell me
something else. He said he had some sort of inoperable brain tumor. He said he
had nothing to lose and he was proceeding with the experiment. He said he had
constructed an airtight steel and Plexiglas ball as the target for the Higgs
reduction. He was getting inside and trying it on himself. He said he would
call me afterward. I told him not to try it, but he hung up and wouldn’t answer
again. What he was doing sounded suicidal to me so I got in my car and headed
toward him.”
“Why
would he target himself?” Morrow asked. “To prove that whatever he was doing
was safe for humans?”
“I hoped
so, but another possibility came to mind that I should have considered earlier.
It was why Gregor conducted his in orbit, but even there it was reckless.”
“But you
said the blow-up in orbit wasn’t very big.”
“It
wasn’t, but that was just luck. It easily could have caused serious damage. You
see, I think Gregor’s experiment worked – it just worked better than he
expected. I think he figured that out before he died.”
“You
still haven’t told us what caused the Griffin explosion? Our first speculation
was the detonation of a low yield tactical nuke, but there wasn’t the right
isotope signature. Besides, who would target Griffin?”
“It
wasn’t a nuke. Think about this,” said Renata. “Suppose Gregor and Konrad not
merely could reduce the Higgs field but cancel it in a small volume of space.”
“I don’t
understand.”
“Everything
in the affected area would have zero mass.”
“So?”
“So by
definition massless objects travel at the speed of light. And the motions of
massless particles are probabilistic, not deterministic. They can go anywhere.
Suppose an object went down. As soon as it was outside the Higgs-canceled area
it would get its mass back but it still would be traveling at near light speed.
What do you think the effect might be of even a modest object striking the
earth at near light speed?”
“Is that
what happened?”
“I think
so.”
“So
Konrad and his sphere plowed into the ground? Why would he want to do that?”
“He
didn’t,” she said. “He wanted to go into space. The capsule he built for
himself was rudimentary and he knew he would die in it, but he was willing to
accept that. When his sphere ran out of oxygen…well, there are worse ways to go
than asphyxiation. You get dopey first so you scarcely even know it.”
“But
instead of going up as he hoped he went down.”
“I don’t
think so,” said Renata. “From his description, his capsule probably would have
caused more damage than what happened at Griffin. My guess is that maybe some light
scaffolding that held the sphere in place slammed into the ground but that the
sphere itself went elsewhere.”
Kerkorian’s
surprised Renata by asking a question as she put down her empty mug. “Konrad told
you he would call. Is that why you called a Dawn Sanford over at Grey Ridge
Observatory?”
““Yes,
she is an old friend, and I suspect already you know everything about that
call.”
“Whether
we do or not, we want to hear about it from you. Sanford is associated with
SETI, isn’t she?” Kerkorian asked.
“‘Associated’
is a strong word. She shares an interest.”
“Do
extraterrestrials have anything to do with this?” asked Kerkorian.
“No,’
Renata laughed. “Not to my knowledge.”
“So, what
did you talk to her about?”
“As I’m
sure she told you, I asked her to search for a signal in an unusual wavelength.
Konrad told me to try the wavelength if he didn’t ring me on the phone. It’s what
made me finally realize what he was up to.”
“Did she find the signal?”
“You know
she did. The signal was highly redshifted, but when compressed it was readable.
It repeated ‘I made it’ on a recorded loop.”
“Actually,
we haven’t talked to Dr. Sanford yet. She is our next stop. So Konrad Masing is
in space?” Kerkorian asked.
Renata
realized she had said too much, but there was no backtracking now. “By now the
object is far outside the solar system,” she said, “and I’m sure its occupant
is deceased, either from asphyxiation or radiation.”
“Not from
acceleration?” said Kerkorian.
“You mean,
was he splattered on an interior wall? Probably not. The whole object including
him lost mass together, so in his frame of reference there should have been no
sense of acceleration.”
“I have
to ask you come with us, Doctor Grant,” said Morrow.
“Am I
under arrest?”
“There
are people who will want to ask you questions in this matter of national
security. Do I need to arrest you?”
“No. I’ll
come along, but I really can’t tell you any more than I have.”
“Well,
tell it again to the others.”
Renata gathered
a few of her things and preceded the agents into the hallway. She decided not
to mention something else that Konrad had told her. Gregor’s and Konrad’s
engineering drawings already had been emailed to scores of colleagues and
laboratories around the world. It was amazing no one had leaked the information
yet. Maybe no one at this point fully understood the significance of what they
had received, but some soon would. Then everyone would. She figured the
technology would have been rediscovered eventually anyway. It might as well be
now, and was probably better in multiple hands now rather than just in one – or
so she hoped. The Masing Effect could open up the galaxy for exploration, or it
could make a lot more Griffins, maybe by intent. But the world hadn’t been safe
for a long time. She hoped for the best.