"It is on now," Roger Fergusson informed Jean over the phone, "if you want to watch, that is," he said.
"It's ok dad, I do want to watch it, give me a sec and I'll set it to record." Picking up the phone again, she asked "Any news from Mary?"
"Not for a couple of days," he replied.
Jean's sister Mary, now a Marine Infantry Lieutenant, and with her unit having rotated into the Ready Reaction Force, was on stand-by for active duty deployment at any time. Needless to say, calls home from Mary were intermittent at best and in times of international tension, non-existent.
"How are you dad, Jean asked kindly, thinking the interview may have opened old wounds.
"Some days are still bad," he replied "I do so miss your mother, but maybe in the light of what is coming, she may be one of the lucky ones."
"Maybe," Jean conceded "but I miss her terribly as well, I bet she could have stopped Mary from enlisting."
"I doubt it, Mary and Elle were a lot alike, especially with their stubbornness," Rodge said. "The confrontation would have been something though," he chuckled. "Look, you don't have to watch, I didn't let anything out. She trotted out the same old questions, followed by a poorly disguised attempt to make me cry," Rodge told her.
"Media jerks," Jean spat out.
"Well they are just pandering to the masses," her dad responded "I suppose we shouldn't blame them too much."
"I fucking hate them," Said Jean with uncharacteristic venom "I hope we don't save any of them."
"Well on that note, I'll say good night and talk to you soon," said Rodge and after a few more 'goodnights' Jean reluctantly hung up.
She made herself a scotch and settled into the recliner to watch her father be interviewed by the well known English chat show host, Susan Parkinson. The interviewer introduced Rodge to her audience as Professor Fergusson, Rodge let it slip by unchallenged.
Jean muttered angrily at the TV, "Doctor! it's Doctor Fergusson, same as me, bitch."
The interviewer then asked some basic questions about Rodge's work, leading up to his current publication. Rodge and his team had proved that gravitational waves could, not only identify binary black holes, but could also theoretically be used to predict if a binary star system was about to go nova. This work had earned Rodge a Nobel prize nomination. Rodge explained that while it was flattering to be nominated, at the rate of Nobel prize awards, even if he did win, it would most likely be posthumous so he wouldn't know the outcome anyway.
The interviewer then brought up the subject of Elle's untimely death.
"It has been almost five years since your beloved wife Elle, was killed by a drug affected trauma patient, you were married for twenty-five years, how have you and your daughters coped?"
"Well, we all still miss her terribly," Rodge answered "it was a shock when it happened and the pain doesn't go away, we just concentrate on our work and deal with it."
"How did you feel when the judge handed down the death sentence?" she asked.
"Well, to be honest, at the time I was glad, but since then, I don't believe it accomplished anything. He has languished on death row for the last five years anyway, and time has attenuated the hunger for revenge. I really don't care either way to speak frankly, he is a nobody and his life is meaningless."
"No, let the fuck rot in solitary until he burns with the rest of us," muttered Jean as she walked back to the lounge with another drink.
Susan now introduced his association with the Axell Corp, Mars research.
"What is your role in Mike Axell's pet folly, the Mars colonisation research?" she asked.
"Well, I was asked by Mike Axell to give a talk to some researchers on the dangers of life in space and on Mars. Due to the thin atmosphere on Mars, colonists would be very susceptible to radiation from the sun and other celestial sources," Rodge answered. "This seldom concerns us on Earth due to the excellent protection we have from the Van Allen belt and the Ozone layer, however it is something to consider if you plan to set up a colony on Mars, or the Moon for that matter."
Do you think Mr Axell is seriously considering a Mars Colony?" she asked.
"I don't know," Rodge admitted "but there have been some tangible scientific and medical breakthroughs as an indirect result of the experiment, so I suppose there is at least some merit in the exercise."
"But there are a large number of eminent scientists involved in this venture, what could there possibly be in it for them?" she asked.
"Well Mike Axell pays well," said Rodge with a smile "and even serious scientists need a lightweight diversion occasionally. This is one seriously complicated scenario so I suppose they just are having some paid fun. But you do need to bear in mind that this is only a think-tank of eminent scientists and other subject experts meeting once a month to discuss issues and problems that may affect any Martian colony. While this isn't part of any NASA project to actually send colonists to Mars." He went on, "We have already been able to develop solutions that have had an impact on other totally unrelated projects right here on Earth."
"Go on," responded Susan.
"Well you may have heard of the growing phenomenon of the so-called new Amish or new colonials. These people have relinquished all modern technology in favour of living a life on the land like the first colonists or even the first Americans." Rodge continued, "Our think-tank has been able to advise them, at their request, on a sustainable crop rotation regime, more suitable to the US conditions than that used by the original settlers. All this came out of a serious discussion relating to hydroponics in a dome environment. So you see that, as silly as it may initially sound, the think tank is actually quite worthwhile."
"Since you brought up the New Colonials," Susan interrupted "is there any veracity to reports that they are actually Axell Corp fronts?"
"I wouldn't think so," replied Rodge. "Axell Corp is a major multinational corporation with responsibilities to its shareholders to make money. I can't see how a pseudo religious sect living a pre-industrial lifestyle could be any sort of profit generating concern. But I am only a part-time member of a think-tank and full-time astronomer, I don't know anything about Mike Axell's business dealings." "What type of front do you think they are?" he asked.
The interviewer ignored the question and returned with another question.
"As one of Mr Axell's top advisors, what are the ties between the current medieval combat fad being taught in gymnasiums run by Axell Corp's wholly owned subsidiary, Everyday Gyms, and the New Colonials movement?"
"Gee, you have firstly over qualified my role with Axell Corp, but a gym and a bunch of twenty-first century drop outs, I can't think of a link, you wouldn't think the colonials would frequent gyms. It may be that any new gym fad can be a money spinner for a while until at least the next fad comes along".
"We are now out of time," Susan suddenly cut the interview off and turned toward the camera. "Please thank our guest tonight, eminent astronomer Dr Roger Fergusson."
As the credits rolled and Susan and Rodge chatted in the background, Jean flicked the screen off. She thought that her dad had held it together quite well and not given anything away. He did look very tired though.
Then faffing around sadly, she washed the dishes, stuffed her discarded work clothes into the washer and generally tidied up for the next day. Everything she did reminded her of her mother. Still feeling melancholy, she wandered off to the shower and took herself to bed.
Next morning, Jean pulled out of her apartment car park and turned onto the quiet morning street heading towards her work. It was still dark as she stopped at the first set of lights, using the pause to reset her playlist and to to briefly enjoy the Autumn colours accentuated by the yellow street lighting. It was a good hour drive from the burbs out to the Collider where she held one of the prestigious senior research physicist positions, having won tenure a couple of years earlier.
Currently, along with her business as usual, meaning writing reports and supervising doctoral students, she was investigating one of the Collider's long term mysteries, the so-called non-magnetic anomaly. Following her normal routine, she used the travel time to listen to her music and contemplate the anomaly. It had been long known that at the magnetic centre of the Cyclotron tube's circle, there existed a mysterious force that would actually momentarily slow down dropped objects. The nature of the field had eluded the various cursory investigations done on it over the years, and interest had waned recently, not least because it was in a not particularly easy to reach location. The focal point of the anomaly was situated deep among the large cooling pipes, electrical conduits and cloud chamber power supplies needed to run the collider. Also, a number of years before Jean started there, one intern had climbed through the anomaly and died instantly. An autopsy showed that his internal organs had been ruptured by some unknown element of the forces present.
While negotiating the security at the front gate, and then again at the entrance to the Collider compound, she reminisced about the lax security her dad's observatory used to have. Things were different now, due to the number and seriousness of threats against scientific research establishments, escalating by the year. Her father calls it the last desperate gasps of a dying philosophy, but to Jean the fundamental religious nut jobs were a real issue for the times, blaming science, as they did, for the social and economic devastation wrought by the pandemic a few years ago. Not that, she thought, they were wrong about the looming Armageddon. She and her sister had been aware of the Pulsar since their father had revealed the secret to them not long after their mother's murder.
Jean reached her desk juggling an over-full mug of hot tea in one hand, and her coat and bag in the other. She dropped the accessories onto her chair and groaned as she slopped hot tea over her hand and into the scientific, administrative and finance reports all piled together in her tray. Sitting in her swivel chair, she spun a full circle and absorbed the ambient hum and boom of the large-scale heavy ion collider running at full power. Today the collider was smashing together gold ions at near the speed of light. Her office was supposedly sound-proofed but the collider noise permeated the very fabric of space when it was in full flight. It would be that way for most of the morning so she would have time to dispatch her administrative duties before spending the afternoon at the anomaly, a good mile and a half away at the very centre of the main circle.
Her paperwork done, her emails answered, now she was free to spend a couple of hours at her latest project, researching the non-magnetic anomaly. Quickly stripping, she hung her clothes in her locker and changed into a pair of overalls and boots. She stuffed her tablet computer into a battered research bag and pulled the office door closed behind her. Making her way down to the tube level, her boots clattering on the checker plate stairs, to wave down the first service vehicle going her way. A uniformed maintenance technician driving an open top electric cart, airport style with a spare seat on the cargo tray, pulled over to offer her a lift.
Referring to the control room for the current experiment investigating the detection of quark-gluon plasma, "Could you drop me off at the PHENIX please?" she asked the driver, "Sean, isn't it?"
"Going to the haunted house Dr Fergusson?" asked Sean, flattered that the famous 'hot' Doctor Fergusson knew his name. "I'll take you right to the door if you like."
"Thanks but I'll walk in from the PHENIX detector control room, but thanks again," she replied.
At the emergency station just outside the PHENIX detector control room, she collected one of the the 'fridge' trollies holding the protective clothing. Jean signed the number tag and dropped the tag onto the 'issued' hook then dragged the heavy trolley further down the corridor to the security door accessing the centre of the loop. The door was locked, with a paper notice taped to it stating "Danger - Authorised Access Only".
Before presenting her thumb to the finger print reader, she glanced up to see if her bike was still there, it was. She had commenced studying the anomaly a month ago, and not long after that, some wag had hooked her bike over the overhead data cable racks, where it now dangled about two feet out of her reach. She suspected, but couldn't prove, it was one, or all three of her new doctoral students. She had often thought to herself that next time she would hijack the small fork lift and get it down, but each time next-time comes around, it always seemed that she didn't have the time. She also had to acknowledge to herself that she was too proud to ask maintenance to get it down for her, so up there her bike remained.
"Oh well," Jean sighed to herself "next time it is," and pressed her thumb to the reader.
The security camera light lit up so she pointed to the safety trolley, held up her pass and flashed her most destructive smile at the hidden security operator until the door unlocked. These security measures had been in force since the unfortunate death of the intern a number of years ago.
"Thanks," she waved as she dragged her trolley in behind her and pushed the door closed.
It was a ten minute drag down the tight walkway to the closest point she could get with the trolley to the anomaly. There she donned her protective gear and turned towards the anomaly. Hampered by the clumsy radiation suit, she clambered over cooling pipes, cable runs and junction boxes to reach the lead glass enclosure protecting people from repeating the accident. There, somewhere inside a large suspended glass screen, was a strange force that slowed the fall of dropped objects.
The anomaly was not just invisible to the naked eye, it was also undetectable to the arrays of sensors Jean, and generations of physicists preceding her, had arranged around the screen. During a month studying the anomaly she had also frustratingly learnt no more than those scientists before her. Jean had poured over all the accumulated research conducted on the anomaly since it was discovered almost ten years ago. She suspected that it had never been treated by the senior researchers as anything more than a sideshow, or perhaps something useful in breaking the arrogance of each new generation of physicists. Accepting it as a genuine mystery to be solved, she, like the many before her, was determined to be the one to crack the mystery. Little did she know that there was a running book among the fellows, on how long she would last before giving up, the previous record was just over a year by her immediate boss and the now head of plasma studies, Dr Nguin.
Jean propped herself on a pipe and just stared at the empty space inside the tube. After about ten minutes of deep contemplation of all she knew about the anomaly, she picked a plastic toy car from the tray of random objects and casually dropped it through the top of the tube. As had happened a thousand times before, and only while the collider was running, the toy dropped under gravity for a second then seemed to pause momentarily in mid fall, then continue on as normal.
"What the fuck are you hiding?" asked Jean in exasperation as she collected the toy from the floor.
Resetting all of her instruments, she dropped in a small lead ingot. This performed exactly the same as the toy car, so Jean shut down the instruments, retrieved the piece of lead and checked the results on her tablet. As usual, there was no increased magnetic activity, no additional radiation, no increase in heat, no decrease in gravity, no nothing.
"Grrr, she exclaimed and retreated back to the pipe to resume her meditation.
"This has all been done over and over she thought "if there was something to find it would have been found. All I'm doing is proving the same as everyone else. There has to be another explanation. What am I, and everyone else, missing."
Jean decided to revisit the historic research to try and find something out of the ordinary she might have missed. Before she packed it in, she set up the high speed camera again and cranked the speed to the maximum it was capable of. At these settings she only had a couple of seconds of film time available so she held the remote release in one hand and dropped the toy car again. Jean released the shutter at her best guess of the moment it was suspended in the invisible field. Not waiting to check if she actually captured the moment, she packed the toy away, retrieved the camera and clambered back over the pipes and obstacles to the trolley.
The walk back to the security door seemed a lot quicker, distracted as she was in deep contemplation about the puzzle.
"If it isn't gravity, it isn't magnetic, it isn't electric, it isn't an invisible updraft, what the bloody hell is it, magic?" she mulled.
Once back at the security station, she checked the trolley to ensure she had returned all of the equipment. She retrieved the number tag and wiped her name from it and reattached it to the trolley. Looking around for a lift back to the administration block stairs, she was surprised to see her bike safely returned to earth and leaning against the wall. This was getting ridiculous now, she knew her interns were not in today, she hadn't asked anyone else to get it down and yet there it was, and no-one else in sight.
"Curiouser and curiouser," she thought to herself.
Loading her bag into the basket, she tucked her trouser legs into her socks and pedalled back toward the Administration block. As she rode along the tunnel, Sean and his truck caught up and passed her, noticing the ladder on the back, the penny dropped.
She waved and called "Thanks Sean it is really good to get her back."
"My pleasure," he called over his shoulder, "I could tell you who put it up there if you want."
"No, some things are best left a mystery,"
Jean laughed as Sean disappeared into the distance.
Parking the bike in its long-unused rack, she stomped up the stairs to her office, finding the door ajar, she swore, knowing what that meant and slumped into her chair. Yep, there it was, another pile of work in her tray. Groaning, she actioned the important stuff and dumped the rest in the 'round' file for the cleaners to remove. With the bread and butter work done, Jean connected the camera to her computer and downloaded the anomaly film. That reminded her to dig out the other film taken over the years. There were three reels of it on high speed celluloid, she dropped the reels into her bag and signed the library sheet to cover her taking them out of the building. While signing, she noticed that only four other scientists had shown any interest in the film over the years.
The file download was finished and Jean figured that she had enough time to have a quick look before her shift ended, before Dr Dowling arrived to replace her. All units maintained a twenty-four hour presence during full power operations, and Jean had been lucky this cycle to have drawn the day shift. The footage of the red toy car dropping past the lens in a flash revealed she had managed to capture the experiment successfully. She re-ran the film at a slower speed and it was obvious that the toy hesitated for a moment during its fall before resuming normal gravitational acceleration.
"This requires more contemplation," Jean said out loud to no-one.
Putting her tablet to sleep and packing it in her bag, she began unlacing her boots. Having just removed her overalls, Jean was reaching for her office clothes when the office door swung open and Brian Dowling strolled in.
"Oh," he exclaimed embarrassed, as he spun back out the door "I'm so sorry.
After her initial surprise, Jean quickly regained her composure, pulled her tee shirt on and wrapped her skirt around before acknowledging Brian.
"It is ok now." she called
He re-entered the office, a little red in the face.
"Sorry," he blurted out.
"No harm done," Jean replied with false dignity. "But, don't you dare tell the interns you saw my tits!" she said sternly "or I will be hounded for a repeat performance and they are bad enough already."
Her humour broke the tension and Brian apologised again for being early, then asked if anything else of interest had happened during her shift.
"Nothing at all, just the usual sonic booms, I had time to visit the anomaly even," Jean reported.
"That bloody anomaly," Brian responded "please put us out of our misery, someone has to solve it, surely," he moaned.
"I haven't given up yet," she replied, "See you tomorrow," as she grabbed her bag and left him to his fantasies.
She smiled to herself as she walked to her car with a subconscious sway of her hips.
"That will keep him awake tonight," she thought, "and, at least he isn't ugly, nerdy, yes but handsome and sort of Clark Kentish only darker" surprising herself with the shallowness of the thought.
Back at home, she called her dad to check up on him, he was fine, but still complained of being tired.
"Go get a check-up dad, at least your doctor might give you something to help you sleep," she told him.
"Ok then bossy," he replied. "I'll go when I can."
"Go tomorrow," Jean demanded.
"Oh ok, you win," he said. "I heard from Mary."
"Oh, how is she, where is she?" Jean asked excitedly.
"She is on her way back to the States, apparently they had a hostage issue in Madagascar, it is over now, she said she will be back by Monday and will tell us all about it, if the TV hasn't done it before then."
"Wow, that girl..." admired Jean. "You gotta be proud of her," she exclaimed.
"Well yes," Rodge replied "one of only three females in the Delta Companies, what do you reckon. I just hope she holds her head down long enough to, well you know what," he said.
"Yes I know," she replied. "I hope so too. Look dad, I've got a lot to do tonight, I brought work home, so I'd better go."
"Good night, thanks for calling, it makes me feel better hearing from you girls," he replied "good night and I love you."
"Love you too dad, good night," and Jean hung up.
She felt quite happy after the call... putting it down to hearing that her sister Mary was coming home and would probably come to stay with her as she invariably did when on leave after a mission.
Jean fixed herself a drink and pulled one of the film canisters from her bag. With no equipment for playing the film, she held it to the light and slowly rolled it off the reel. About halfway through the reel, with film curling all around her feet, she located the actual footage of the dropped item. It was what looked like a wooden block, until she realised it was a very new lead ingot, the very one she had dropped, but with new paint and not all scratched and dinged like it was now.
"How old is this file? It must be old as the glass barrier isn't there yet," she thought to herself.
Studying the frames one at a time she could see the progression of the fall against the ruler the experimenter had so professionally lined up behind the falling object.
"Hold on," she exclaimed out loud "what the fuck?"
The frame she was looking at showed the lead ingot, but it seemed shorter than it did in the previous frames. She checked the next frame and the ingot seemed shorter again, only by the smallest bit, and easily missed if the film was played, but noticeable when studied frame by frame. The next frame showed the ingot longer again and in the next frame the ingot was back to it's normal size.
"Now that is curious," Jean told herself.
She marked the place on the film with a sticky note and rolled the film back onto the reel. Getting the next film out, she unrolled it to the same place and this time there was a rudimentary barrier around the anomaly and no ruler to check the fall against. In the film it also appeared that the falling object, this time a yellow plastic ball, seemed to shrink as it passed a certain point in space.
"Well what have we found here?" she asked herself.
Once again she marked the place and rewound the film, then opened the third film. This also showed the same yellow ball seemingly getting shorter as it fell through the same spot as the other films. It was as if the front of the falling object was waiting for a brief moment, but the back of the object kept falling. Jean made a decision to keep this to herself until she had figured out what she was looking at. After completely reviewing all of the historic research once again Jean confirmed that no previous researchers had mentioned the phenomenon.
It was a bit late, but Jean was not in the mood for sleep, she packed the films away again, tidied up, had a shower but was still not ready for bed. She fixed another scotch, dimmed the lights and propped herself on the bed, remote'd the TV on and flipped through the movie channels in the hope something worth watching was on. She settled on an action movie of the generic retired commando vs drug cartel type while the scotch did its job.
It was probably a loud advertisement that brought her back to consciousness, and she was surprised to find the TV was still on. She used the light from the TV to visit the bathroom then back in bed she reached for the remote to shut it down. Something made her pause, as it took a couple of seconds to focus while her eyes rebelled at being forced to look at the bright TV screen. She recognised the movie, it was one of her favourites while growing up, an adaption of H. G. Wells' Time Machine. The movie was nearly finished so Jean watched it out, then turned the TV off and settled back to make the most of the remaining three hours of sleep.
Jean drove to work next morning with the feeling that there was something just outside her consciousness trying to break through. Try as she might she could not think what it could be, yet nor could she dismiss the feeling. Once in her office, she dispatched her daily administration, red-pen'd the draft papers submitted by a couple of the interns and actioned her email. By then it was nearly lunchtime, so she walked to the staff canteen to pick out a healthy salad wrap and an unhealthy cappuccino to go, and retreated to her office. While she ate, she tipped the anomaly files onto the floor and sat on the floor with them all around her. She meticulously searched through them looking again for any hint that the size change had been noticed by any of her predecessors. She found just one note, stating that the anomaly affected the ability to film the event as it distorted the film when it occurred.
"Hmm," she thought "did it actually distort the film or did it distort the falling object? How could it be possible that an event that emits no radiation, does not change the magnetic field nor change the temperature or atmospheric electric charge, distort a film, or a falling object, for that matter?"
Something was really trying to force its way into her conscious thoughts.
"Arrgh," she said out loud. "What is it?"
After packing the files away again, and securing them in her locker she went to get another coffee.
"I'll never sleep now," she thought "who am I kidding, until I figure out what it is I can't remember, I won't sleep anyway."
She was still sitting at her desk contemplating a half empty cup of cold coffee when a timid knock on the door lifted her out of her reverie. Jean got up and let Brian in.
"I didn't realise it was so late," she said
Jean took his bag so he could take his coat off. Placing his bag on the second chair, she asked him about his last shift.
"Very quiet," he said, I even got to watch a movie in the common room."
"Oh, what movie?"
"The Time Machine," he replied.
"Oh I saw a bit of that too... " she began and stopped in mid-sentence as the lost thought finally crashed into her head. "Shit!" she suddenly exclaimed.
"What is the matter?" a startled Brian asked, worried by the look of anguish on her face.
"Shit" she said again then began to laugh, looking at Brian, she laughed even harder at the shocked look on his face. "Nothing bad," she said through fits, I just realised what has been bugging me all day. "Time travel, it has to be time travel."
She logged out, locked her files away and with a cheerful wave and still laughing, bid Brian good night and breezed out of the office leaving a thoroughly confused physicist behind.
Back at home, Jean dropped her bag and reached for one of her newer reference books, one on the mathematics behind Einstein's theory of special relativity. Without even getting her customary drink, she sat down to refresh herself with the application of special relativity to the very small scale of the Planck length. Time lost its meaning and it only seemed like a couple of hours when she realised it was daylight outside.
"Well, way to blow a Friday night," she said out loud.
She stretched, yawned and made her way to the kitchen to put a coffee on. Jean hadn't pulled an all-nighter like that for nearly ten years, at least not since Uni. Taking her coffee back into the lounge, she picked up her text books and placed them back on the bookshelf. Retrieving her notes, she sat down at the kitchen table and started to recheck her calculations. After an hour, she couldn't find any flaw in her figures so she called her father.
"What time do you call this?" Rodge asked sleepily "is everything all right?"
"Sorry dad," she said "yes, everything is ok, I was just wondering if you could check some calculations I have done? Maybe even get Dr Singh to have a look, it is important."
"Ok, come around later, bring Mary for lunch, I'll ask Gunda to come around," agreed Rodge.
"Shit, Mary" said Jean "I'd forgotten her, I gotta go, she will be waiting, bye, see you for lunch."
Rushing into the bathroom for a quick shower, Jean roughly twisted her blond hair into a bun, threw on a used pair of jeans and a tee and caught the lift to the car park.
Jean was just negotiating the queue to the airport pickup zone when Mary called wondering where she was. Realising she had lined up at the wrong terminal, Jean cursed and pulled back into the traffic. Ten minutes later she pulled up beside Mary.
"Still driving dad's rejects," observed Mary as she checked out Jean's old Jeep.
With Mary on board and her kit bag stowed on the back seat, the sisters pulled out into the freeway traffic on their way to their father's house. The hour the trip normally required seemed to take no time at all as the two of them talked over each other like teenagers, in the excitement of catching up. Jean pulled up in the driveway behind Gundar's latest electric car, and still talking, the girls ran inside to see their father. Rodge had prepared a cold meat and salad lunch for them complete with cold beers and sourdough bread. During lunch, Mary gave a clinical, and as Jean suspected, an abridged account of the hostage rescue mission her team had been deployed for. Apparently it had been a perfect operation, the plan was well thought out and masterly executed by the team.
"We didn't hear about it on the news," Gundar said.
"Probably because no-one got killed," replied Mary ruefully.
"Back to what we were talking about," interrupted Rodge.
"Gundar, you were telling me about Lei."
"Yes, she is working with the engineers out at Fort Jones. They are putting in the radiation shielding, she should be back in a couple of weeks," Gundar reported.
"Have you heard how young Kai is going?" Rodge asked.
"He is graduating from West Point in a couple of weeks, who would have thought, Lei is flying over for that," said Gundar.
Rodge grunted his surprise, as he would have bet Kai wouldn't have made it through the officer training, seeing the trouble he caused for Lei all through his school years.
After lunch, Jean drew Gundar away to let Mary and her dad catch up, and to get him focused on the real reason he was invited. She grabbed two more beers and they retired to Rodge's study, she handed him her notebook and gave him a quick rundown on her thinking. Gundar took a sip from his beer and started a cursory glance at the calculations. Within a few minutes, he placed his drink on the desk and focused his considerable intellect on the notes.
"What made you decide to research this?" he asked "it is an unusual application of Einstein's special relativity using Minkowski spacetime. If your conclusion is correct," he said, grasping the implications quickly, "it means that time travel is not only mathematically possible, which it is, but feasible and achievable. This is unbelievable, why didn't anyone pick this up years ago?" he asked incredulously.
"Why didn't I figure it out? Damn girl, you are onto something big here. Can I take a copy of these calculations and have a go at proving you mad?"
Jean nodded, awed by the apparent endorsement of one of the greatest mathematicians of the age. Gundar used his phone to photograph the pages and handed the notebook back to Jean.
"Now, Jean," he said seriously "I would not let on to anyone about this yet, and probably not ever, can you imagine what a government could do with this technology, if it can be produced?"
"It is hard to imagine what harm could come of it, you could only go into the future, the physics doesn't allow going to the past," she said.
"Hmm, we'll see," Gundar said "now I have to speak to Rodge about this. I'll call you when we have had a good long look at it. Where did you get the idea from?" he asked again.
Jean explained about the anomaly at the collider.
"Ah, yes I know all about that, it is infamous, it has sent more than one researcher to the looney bin," he said. "What about it?"
Jean described what she had discovered from observing the falling objects how they shortened when the pause in the fall happened. She theorised that the shortening was when the leading edge of the object actually jumped a split second into the future. By her reckoning the pause was the time it took for the world to get to the future point when the object reappeared. It only looked like a pause in the fall because the jump to the future was only a fraction of a second.
"Shit!" exclaimed Gundar, "Old Monty was right."
Old Monty was the first Chief Maintenance Engineer for the Collider when it was new, he always called it the New York time machine.
When Jean was able to extract Mary from her father, the girls drove back to Jean's apartment.
"What were you and old Gundar being all secretive about?" asked Mary.
"I think I've discovered time travel," replied Jean.
"Ok, what are you smoking," drawled Mary "I'll take some too."
"No really," Jean said. "Gundar thinks so too, he is going to check my calculations, he proved daddy right about the pulsar, so I'll believe him one way or another."
"Shit, what a time to discover that," said Mary with awe. "Will we be able to go back and see Jesus?" she asked.
"No, it only allows travel into the future," Jean explained. "It is more about making time go really slow for something, so if it was a person they would appear to jump into the future. The downside to them is that for everyone else, it would appear that they were frozen in time."
"What is the use of that then?" asked Mary. "In this case it appears to happen as something moves across a very thin plane, like the Planck space. No one will see the frozen bit, things just disappear like going through a door, then later on they will appear through the other side of the door, in the future. In reality they have just taken that long to go through the door, like being in another dimension in science fiction."
"Well can people use it to go to the future?" Mary asked. "I don't know," replied Jean "maybe Gundar will find that out, he is bloody good at math."
"I hope we can," said Mary "maybe we could use it to go to the future well after the Pulsar has gone."
"I hadn't thought of that, fuck, maybe a real time machine could be made, we only have just on ten years to work it out." agreed Jean. "I'll talk to dad about it next time."
Jean's parking bay was right next to the elevator and after parking, she went through her normal routine of looking around to check for threats before unlocking the car. Mary waited patiently for Jean to decide it was safe, before getting out and dragging her oversize kit bag out of the back seat. She herself had never felt the need to be over cautious at home. Mary was a Navy Seal and master of more than one martial art, and as a couple of her over optimistic suitors had found out the hard way, 'no' actually means no when it came to the pretty Lieutenant Fergusson.
Jean directed Mary to the spare bedroom, and helped her make the bed. Mary was going to stay with Jean for the full week of her leave so she tipped her gear out onto the bed and sorted it into the drawers then turned her attention to the shower. Jean returned to the kitchen and made a couple of drinks. After a couple of minutes she heard the shower stop then Mary wandered into the kitchen stark naked.
"Wa?" exclaimed Jean. "Sister! The neighbours across the road can see right in."
"Don't tell me the party doctor has become all prude," teased Mary as she reached for her drink.
"Well no, I mean well maybe, my work is a bit blokey and repressed so I suppose some of it rubs off," retorted Jean unconvincingly. "I did flash my tits at a colleague the other day," she stated defiantly "but it was by accident."
"Ha" laughed Mary. "So the old Jean is still in there, who was he?"
"Brian" answered Jean coyly "he runs the next shift.
"Tell me about this Brian," she challenged. "Are you banging him?"
"Well, he is handsome, smart and a bit of a SNAG, but ok I suppose, and no," answered Jean lightening up.
"What about you?"
"Well when it seems that every second fucker in the world is trying to kill you, you get a little selfish about what you want. When I want it I get it, and when I don't want it, I kick their arses," replied Mary with a laugh. "After having had a good look at the world as it really is and with the threat of Armageddon over us, I just don't see the point of living my life to some outdated moral code."
Mary topped her whiskey up and asked, "Why are we standing out here when there are comfortable chairs in the lounge room?"
She grabbed the bottle and headed into the lounge.
"You know, and I haven't even told dad this, but I have accepted a posting to Quantico as Chief Instructor for their unarmed combat course."
How come?" asked Jean getting excited. "Well I have been operational for three years and have completed my tour of duty so I got my pick of postings."
"Don't you have to be a Captain or something to be a chief instructor?" asked Jean.
"Well funny you should say that, you have been talking to Captain Fergusson all this time," boasted Mary.
"Well fuck," exclaimed Jean "that needs a drink, or three," as she downed her scotch and poured another round. "And you look fucking awesome too," she said as she waved her drink dangerously in Mary's direction. "Mum would be proud of your dress sense," she added sarcastically. "I am going to be so sorry for this in the morning," she moaned.
She sculled the scotch and reached again toward the bottle.
Next morning while nursing a fragile stomach, and eyes that refused to focus, Jean stumbled through the lounge on her way to the kitchen. Confronted by the naked and snoring form of her sister sprawled on the sofa, still clutching the empty scotch bottle, Jean retrieved the bottle, eliciting a groan from her sister as Mary opened her eyes and tried to focus.
"Oh, look who is human after all," joshed Jean "do you want a coffee?"
"I think I will stick with water for a while," was the pained response "I need a shower."
Mary reappeared a couple of hours later, after having had a shower and another sleep, to find Jean sitting in front of a mute television clutching a bucket looking very washed out.
"Still crook?" she asked.
"Fuck off, this is all your fault," was the only response.
By the time Mary reappeared with a cup of coffee, Jean had disappeared for her turn in the shower. Mary cleaned up Jean's vomit, emptied and washed the bucket and was just putting the empty glasses away when Jean returned looking much better.
"I need that coffee now," she said and they both laughed.
The sisters took it easy for the rest of the Sunday, using the time to reconnect and catch up, both of them made it an early night. Next morning as Jean prepared to leave for work, Mary jogged in through the front door.
"I didn't hear you go out," said Jean.
"You were still snoring when I went out," replied Mary. "I thought I'd better put in a quick five miles before breakfast, especially after Saturday night."
"What are you going to do today?" asked Jean. "Probably go over to dad's, I have to hire a car first though so I will take the bus into town first."
"Well have fun, I gotta go," said Jean, "see you around 16.00hrs cap'n."
Work was so so, and when Brian turned up to take over, Jean bolted. She was halfway home when her father called. She answered on the handsfree.
"Hi dad, what is up?" "Can you come straight over here?" he asked "Mary is still here," he added. "On my way," she confirmed.
She switched lanes and looked for the next off ramp. There was a large limousine parked in Rodge's driveway so Jean had to park on the front lawn beside the small Prius, she assumed correctly was Mary's hire car. As she climbed from her Jeep, she noticed a box on the brick gate post and headed to bring in what she assumed was a parcel delivery.
The limo driver, who looked a lot like one of Mary's Seal mates, was leaning against the front of the car texting something on his phone, looked up and spoke up quietly but firmly.
"Don't touch the box ma'am, it is a security device, a Radar motion detector."
He nodded and smiled at her as she walked warily past him to the front door. When she walked in, Rodge and Gundar were there along with Mike Axell and a couple of other serious looking older men.
"Jean, Mike and a couple of his engineers have come to see you," advised her father as he rose to meet her.
Mike came forward with his hand extended.
"Hello Jean, you sure are a chip off the old block, we have a lot to talk about. I'd like you to meet two of my best scientists, well engineers really,"
He nodded in the direction of the two older men without introducing them. Mary pushed in with a drink for Jean.
"Sorry about the ambush, but you have stumbled onto something really big," she said. After Gundar and Dad had worked through your calculations, they made an urgent call to Mr Axell and here we are.
"That is correct," agreed Mike Axell "can we talk?"
"I suppose so," muttered a disconcerted Jean. "About what?"
Turning to the others, Mike asked them, "Why don't you all bugger off to the lounge and watch the game, while Jean and I have a chat?"
"Sit down here," Mike directed Jean to one of the side chairs. "Do you want another drink?"
Without waiting for an answer, he poured another whiskey and digging in the freezer, dropped a couple more ice cubes in the glass and handed it to a wary Jean. He pulled up the seat facing her and began,
"I know you are fully conversant with the disaster we are facing in just under ten years time, but I don't think you are across all the preparations we are putting in place to try and save the human race."
He went on to describe how Axell Corp is building two huge sanctuaries in north western California by repurposing existing gold mines in the area. Each of these he told her was capable of protecting about 2500 people. He also explained that the so-called New Colonials were actually the people being trained for survival in a non-industrial world without electricity or machinery. These people were going to be the core food providers for the sanctuaries.
He also went on to explain that the sanctuaries may need to be protected. "Exactly as Susan Parkinson alluded to in Rodge's interview, the fad in Medieval Warfare is a front for our security forces to relearn long forgotten fighting skills to protect the sanctuaries without modern weapons."
"Who are they protecting against?" asked Jean "Isn't everyone going to be dead?"
"Well that is the thing," continued Mike "we just don't know, there may be survivors who are desperate and have nothing to lose, or there may be no-one, we can't take the chance, it is best to be prepared."
"Ok, I get it, you have a bunch of survivalists getting ready, what has that to do with me?" asked Jean almost bitterly, not liking being reminded of the fate waiting everyone she knew.
"First" Mike said kindly "the survivalists as you call them are only the support staff, vital but not the main game. There are a lot of others still working in normal life who are part of the plan. You, Mary and any, and all of your family if you have one by then, are all part of those being taken to the Sanctuary. We need a varied and robust group of all ages to make this work."
"Oh" answered Jean "I didn't know."
"Now" asked Mike "the for reason I have come here this afternoon... tell me all about what you have discovered, hang on, I'll get my engineers in first, save telling it twice." Mike called in and introduced Mark Williams and Stephen Taylor as Chief Engineers at one of the Axell Corp weapons research and manufacturing subsidiaries.
Jean explained how she had taken on researching the anomaly, as it was called. It was a rite of passage at RHIC and she had discovered that it wasn't electric or gravitational, it was actually a temporal anomaly. She then told the engineers that once she had identified that, she knew where to focus her calculations. Her research and calculations showed that the fields from the collider were focused at the centre point of the circular particle rings, and actually accelerated the falling objects to near the speed of light across a very short distance in the Planck range. As the distance is so short, the energy needed was relatively small compared to accelerating a space ship through stellar distances. Following Einstein's Special Relativity, time slows through that distance and the effect is to move the object into the future from the perspective of the present.
"Sounds simple," said Mike only a little sarcastically. "Now" he asked seriously "could this discovery be turned into a time machine to move people into the future?"
"I don't know," Jean answered honestly.
"Do you want to find out then?" asked Mike in return.
"How?" asked Jean.
"Let us start with why, shall we?" said Mike. "What if we had the chance to move our people ten, twenty or five-hundred years into the future? We could completely avoid the carnage caused by the pulsar and emerge into a clean and new world, wouldn't that be worth aiming for? Now as to how. I have a research establishment especially designed to develop advanced weaponry, it has access to almost as much technology as your collider but much more modern and compact. You say you don't need as much power as the collider, just more focussed, I think we can deliver that, my Research Unit has a medium sized power station for its exclusive use, Rail Guns need a lot of power," he winked at her.
Turning to the engineers "What do you guys think, is it worth a try?"
Stephen replied "We have nine years to find out, I say let's see what we can do."
Mark also noted that it would be very expensive and difficult to conceal from the Government observers, weapons developers being very closely monitored as it were.
"Na, piece of piss," replied Mike dismissively "they haven't twigged to the microwave beam weapon and we made that over seven years ago."
Jean shook her head trying to clear her thoughts, could it be possible. Firstly she was being given a chance to survive the apocalypse then she was being offered a chance to develop the greatest discovery since the special theory nearly two-hundred years ago. More than that, she was being given the chance to use her discovery to save the human race, this was almost overwhelming.
"And my family are part of those being saved?" she asked.
"Of course," replied Mike "your dad made the discovery that made this possible, I have a responsibility to all of my employees and... Well, I can't save everyone but we may be able to save enough to make a new start. Maybe we won't make the same mistakes next time hey. Now how about it, can you work with these two to send us into the future?"
"Can I offer a position on the team to my colleague?" asked Jean quietly.
"Sure," agreed Mike "as long as he or she," he paused and looked slyly at her "understands the absolute necessity for secrecy."
"I'll make sure he," and she stressed the 'he' "understands that," she said. "If you think there is a chance, I think it is worth trying, yes, I will come and work for you."
"And the best thing," finished Mike "is that you will be paid more than twice as much as your current position, indexed of course."
The four of them returned to the lounge, Rodge, Gundar and one of the drivers were watching the dying moments of a Canadian ice hockey game but Mary was not present. Jean was disappointed, she wanted to talk to her sister about her momentous decision. She was still unsure of what it actually meant, but she felt a lightheadedness and excitement at prospects for the future. It was as if a cloud had been blown away from her mind. Jean only then realised just how depressed she had been over the last few years.
As Mike was telling Rodge about Jean's decision, the front door banged and Mary came in laughing and a little red in the face. She stopped suddenly at the sight of everyone being serious and raised a questioning eyebrow at Jean.
Jean almost ran to Mary and hugged her and whispered "I am going to work with Mike to try and save us all, and, he is giving me a raise."
Turning to Mike, Jean asked "So, how is this going to work?"
Mike shrugged dismissively. "Go to work as usual, and one of my people will contact you in the next week, just to give us time to get some procedures in place. Oh and get ready to move to Washington DC, the centre is over the river in Virginia. Axel Corp will uplift all your stuff as a matter of course."
"Great!" exclaimed Mary "I'm going to be at Quantico, only a couple of hours away, we will be able to hang out."
"Good, it is all sorted," said Mike. "I'll be seeing you Dr Fergusson."
"Ok" said both Jean and Rodge at the same time, then they both laughed.
The driver preceded Mike from the house and signalled to the other bodyguard hanging out near the car. He quickly escorted Mike to the front passenger side and looking around warily, closed Mike into the limo. The other bodyguard just as quickly retrieved the radar device from the front gatepost and dropped it into the trunk of the car. He climbed into the rear and the limo backed out of the driveway, as it drove away, the driver flashed his lights and a black SUV parked up the street, started up and slid into formation behind the limo.
Mary was standing beside Jean and leaning on her older sister's shoulder.
"Did you see that security guy? he was hot,"
Jean replied that she thought he was a bit grumpy.
"Not at all, he used to be Delta Force until Mike recruited him, Axell has a whole army, or at least a military contractor force, neat hey, and I got his phone number."
"Girl, you are incorrigible," laughed Jean as they walked arm in arm back inside. "How did you do that?"
"I told him that Army Special Forces were pussys compared to Navy and bet him I could kick his pussy Army arse," said Mary with a smirk, "works every time."
Next day, Jean returned home from work a little later than usual, having taken a big step in asking Brian to have a coffee with her before he started shift. He agreed, perhaps too readily she thought, but the collider was not running so there was little for the physicists to do except get in the engineers' way and harass the interns for their reports.
She pulled into her parking bay and noticed a new green Wrangler in the guest bay, nice she thought, maybe with the new job, I can get one of those. When she let herself into her apartment, she was startled to see Mike's bodyguard, the hot one, sitting at the kitchen table in his underwear sipping a hot drink.
"Woah," she exclaimed. "What are you doing in my house naked?" she demanded, from the kitchen doorway.
The bodyguard jumped to his feet so quickly his chair went flying back, only his lightning reflexes saved it from crashing into the fridge.
"Good afternoon Dr Fergusson," he began in perfect composure with an educated accent.
"Oh, you are home then?" interrupted a familiar voice from behind her.
On turning to confront her sister, Jean was horrified to see Mary holding an ice pack to the left side of her face and she was also completely topless and only wearing her underpants.
"Awe lighten up, sis," this is Joe, as she indicated toward the still standing bodyguard.
"What has happened here?" demanded Jean.
"Nothing here, well not not-nothing anyway," said Mary slyly. "Oh, the face, well that is a gym injury, they happen in training all the time, turns out that not all Delta force are pussys after all." She leant up to give Joe a kiss.
"I should have known," said Jean in exasperation "get me a drink and tell me the story."
"First" announced Mary "let me introduce... Wait for it," she said dramatically "Joe Kawalski, no really, you couldn't make this stuff up, could you Joe?"
She descended into laughter. Joe smiled and held out his hand to Jean,
"It really is Joe Kawalski, and to make it even better," he then completed the sentence in a strong Brooklyn accent "I'm originally from Brooklyn."
Jean then noticed the two black and blue bruises across his ripped abdomen. She looked away in embarrassment, but Joe, seeing this said, Mary has a very powerful kick for someone so small. Mary then came to Jean's rescue and handed her a scotch.
"He is smart too, the prick had the nerve to look me up and watch some of my fights so he was clued up on my style. Can I keep him, can I sis, please?" she mockingly begged her older sister.
"So what was the prize if you had won?" asked Jean, by now interested.
"Oh he would have had to have a picture taken wearing a Marine uniform jacket and nothing else, posted on his barracks notice board, and he had to shout me dinner.
"And what if he won?"
"Well something similar," answered Mary "sort of minus the jacket," and she pointed to her nakedness.
"Bloody hell," exclaimed Jean, she downed her drink, tossed the glass at Joe "top that up please, I'll be back in a minute, Sister come with me."
Safely out of sight, Jean and Mary dissolved into laughter and holding hands ran into Jean's bedroom.
"Tell me you let him win, you little tart," questioned Jean as she changed out of her work clothes.
"Well he is very good, he did get an elbow to my head in under my defence, and that hasn't happened for a long time. Anyway, he is way good looking and smart, let's just call it a draw, he is also good in bed."
"Way too much information," laughed Jean. "Let's just order in, you should go and get the both of you dressed for dinner."
Half an hour later, with everyone decent at last, the door bell chimed.
"Ah, pizza," said Joe "my treat,"
He answered the door with his wallet ready. It wasn't the pizza guy, but rather a well groomed thirty-something in an expensive suit carrying a document wallet.
"Oh good evening Mr Kawalski," said the suit "is Dr Fergusson in?"
Jean pushed around Joe and greeted the man.
"Good evening, I'm Dr Fergusson, Who are you?"
"I'm Jason Jackobi, I am a legal representative for Mr Axell, "he has asked me to deliver this. iIt is your letter of appointment to the Axell Defence Research Centre in Virginia. Also in here is the address and keys to your apartment in Washington DC. Axell Corp covers all rent and utilities as part of your package, and also included is a voucher for a vehicle of your choice at the Jeep dealership. Mr Axell noted that you had a preference for Jeeps." He continued, "Also, here is a letter of transfer, just hand to RHIC HR tomorrow then finish up as soon as you want. It turns out you are employed there under the Axell research grant, making it easy to progress your move without raising undue questions. You start at Axell Defence Research Centre in a fortnight. Do you have any questions? Oh before that, I forgot to mention that the removalists are booked for prepack on Friday."
"Shit!" exclaimed Jean. "This is too much and too soon."
The lawyer handed Jean his card.
"I understand, call me when you have digested it all and I will try to talk you through it."
He turned to go, then turned back to Joe. "
Arr, Mr Axell has a job for you Joe, he wants you and your team fully tooled up, as he said it, at 01.00hrs at his hanger at the airport."
Seeing the pizza delivery car pull up, he added,
"You will have just enough time for your pizza," and he waved as he passed the delivery man coming up the driveway.
"Damn," muttered Mary, "I hadn't finished with him." Jean and Joe both laughed as Joe paid the man and took possession of their dinner.
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Back in Fort Meade, Manager of Domestic Corporate Operations, Charlie Williams was reviewing one of her priority cases, the ongoing strange behaviour of Axell Corp and its eccentric owner, Mike Axell. This case she had opened years ago when as a newly promoted Team Leader, she had made a simple note in a monthly report. Now it was one of the longest running cases she had on her files.
Normally once a misbehaving corporation came to the attention of the NSA or the Secret Service, it wasn't long before heads rolled. In the case of Axell Corp, the activities and acquisitions were not secret as such, nor where they illegal. In fact the corporation seemed to go out of its way to be as open and transparent as possible with the Securities and Exchange Commission. It was just that the behaviour of the corporation hasn't made any sense for the last five years.
The corporation owned a successful and so far squeaky clean security organisation. Axell Corp owned a weapons research and manufacturing plant, once again squeaky clean, It owned a steel works and on top of that a string of health clubs and gymnasiums specialising in sword fighting. It didn't make any sense. Now Charlie was looking at reports of large research grants to the Relativistic Heavy Ion Collider at Newhaven.
"What are you up to, Mike Axell?" she muttered to herself.
She decided to ask the Board to authorise a request to the FBI to install an agent in the organisation.