Decipher (23 page)
Authors: Stel Pavlou
The man on the other end of the line was getting impatient now. “Hello? Rip, is that you?”
He tapped the side of his vid-phone, knocking the picture quality down a notch. A moment later and another face appeared on the screen. She recognized this one as Jack Bulger, one of the company men who'd come to see her in Siberia two days ago.
He took a look at the connection and fiddled with unseen controls.
Only now did Sarah fully comprehend the sheer scale of the dollar signs Rip Thorne was seeing. He wanted to monopolize Carbon 60 to control its distribution, and its price. He was exploring every avenue. And if it meant sending armed squads to the Amazon Basin where there was virtually no government to stop them, then so be it. If it meant ignoring and refusing to pass on information to the government that his own people were giving him, that an earthquake frequency pattern was seriously threatening the survival of the planet, and that this frequency pattern was focusing on those five C60 sites, then so be it too. It was possession of the C60 that was important. That was the goal, not solving a riddle that spanned the planet.
“Rip?! Jesus Christ!” Bulger was turning away.
The other man was whistling sharply, pointing to the bodies. “Cover them things up!”
Sarah cut the connection quickly. But whoever the other man was on the end of the line, he'd been louder than she anticipated. A groggy Rip Thorne stood naked in the bedroom doorway. He frowned when he saw where Sarah was sitting. She in return kept her nerve. Calmly raised the bottled water to her lips and smiled sweetly. “Hey,” she said.
“I thought I heard someone calling me,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Yeah, you did. It was me,” she said casually. “I just wanted to use your vid-phone to call the site. We found a stone plug today, y'know.”
Thorne wasn't happy. “You got me outta bed for that?”
“No,” Sarah chided. “
You
got you outta bed. A grunt would have done.”
You
got you outta bed. A grunt would have done.”
Thorne grunted and crawled back under the covers. She watched after him a while and couldn't quite believe she was looking at the same man. What was he capable of? She glowered, only to jump out of her skin as the telephone rang. She eyed the device nervously for a moment, briefly convinced the Amazon team had tracked her down, before snatching the receiver up in time to stop Thorne stirring again.
Nervously she said: “Hello?”
“Sarah? You're awake.”
Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. “Eric, it's you. Whatcha got?”
“You better get your ass down here,” he said. “We got the plug out.”
Â
Sarah didn't forget the manila envelope or her phone as she dressed and packed. She put the stacks back just the way she had found them, but left the laptop out. It was then that she knocked a file onto the floor and saw a list of telephone numbers spewed out with the pages. It was a contact sheet for the team in Switzerlandâthe team which boasted a CIA operative as a member.
CERN: DR. JON J. HACKETTâ555 3212
DR RICHARD SCOTTâ555 4108
RALPH K. MATHESONâ555 8795
ROBERT PEARCEâ[NUMBER WITHHELD]
Contact: R. Adm. T DOWER via the CIA.
DR RICHARD SCOTTâ555 4108
RALPH K. MATHESONâ555 8795
ROBERT PEARCEâ[NUMBER WITHHELD]
Contact: R. Adm. T DOWER via the CIA.
She stuffed the list into her purse and put the rest of the file back where she found it. And on her way out she didn't forget to kiss Thorne the way she used to.
She just didn't do it.
“The sun as a pulsar? Are you nuts?!”
Corner Station, the ELIGO nerve center where all the lasers, beam-splitters and some of the mirrors for all six interferometers were housed, was frantic with scientists from a myriad of departments all squabbling over reams of information. Desperate, shocked, many were glued to monitors, intent on gathering more data. All wore their IDs on cords around their necks so it was easy to pick out names.
“That's about the size of it,” Hackett replied.
There was direct feed coming in from the Ames Research Center. MIT was on one line while Kitt Peak Observatory was on another. The National Optical Astronomy Observatories at Tucson, Arizona, were keeping a channel open, as were the scientists at Canada's Dominion Astrophysical Observatory. The science community was getting the jitters. Word was spreading fast, and the word was not good. Gravity waves were supposed to be produced by objects such as two black holes colliding, the sheer scale of their mass causing the surrounding space to curve, knot and twist.
Gravity waves were supposed to be a distant phenomenon, not something that happened in your own backyard, being produced by something that theory dictated simply wasn't big enough.
The sun simply should not be doing this.
The sun simply should not be doing this.
The guy with the grinning hair and thick bifocals was Nick Austin, senior team leader in charge of ELIGO. “This data means the sun started pulsing out gravity waves nearly twenty years ago. We'd have picked that up, Jon. Have you even checked these figures?”
“I'm aware of the figures,” Hackett confirmed, “but we're talking about such low-level gravitational shifts you'd need a detector the size of a planet to pick up those kinds of fluctuations. How many of these waves have you registered so far?” he asked Austin.
Austin folded his arms defensively. “Four waves so far. The last three in the past two days.”
“And what was different about the latest wave?”
“It lasted the longest. And we picked up data suggesting there might be internal variations to the wave. Possibly connected to what we can only loosely call its field strength.”
“Is the wave structure like radio waves? Or more like the field strength of magnetism?”
“Maybe a combination. Look, Jon. No one's ever measured this stuff before. We're all operating on conjecture. At the vaguest level.”
“Excuse me.
Excuse me!
But I've lost my satellite
and
my comet! Do
any
of you people have the faintest idea how badly the gravity wave has warped my section of space?” A blond woman with sharp features was bellowing. She had star charts in her hands and was circling a section of space with a red pen.
Excuse me!
But I've lost my satellite
and
my comet! Do
any
of you people have the faintest idea how badly the gravity wave has warped my section of space?” A blond woman with sharp features was bellowing. She had star charts in her hands and was circling a section of space with a red pen.
“I dunno! We're still trying to figure out Hackett's data!”
“Contact with over thirty satellites has been lost, Dr. Weisner,” one of the scientists spat angrily. “Nothing makes yours any more special than the rest.”
Pearce scratched the side of his lip as he lowered his voice. Leaned into Matheson as the two men waited: “Would this many geeks constitute a party?” Matheson didn't answer as he kicked out his foot disconsolately. “I bet I still end up in the kitchen.”
“Hackett's an asshole!” the woman was screaming.
“It's good to see you too, Michela,” Hackett commented loudly. “Ah, this is who I was looking for. Hopefully she'll get us to that light computer,” he explained quietly. “She's my ex-girlfriend.”
“Figures,” Matheson concluded meekly. “She obviously hates your guts.”
“Honey?” Hackett accosted her meekly. “I need a favor ⦔
Â
Hackett noticed Weisner's finger. It was still very much bare. No ring of any kind. “Funny, isn't it?” he mused. “So much in life just comes down to a few lumps of rock.”
“What are you talking about?” she snapped irritably.
How could she forget when they broke up? And he stole the ring back just to flush it down the john. They made up a
week later. But she expected to see the thing back on her finger at some point. And he had no one to help him sift through the shit in the sewage pipe. He found the ring too, in the end. But the stone was missing. And fifty bucks just wasn't going to replace an antique emerald.
week later. But she expected to see the thing back on her finger at some point. And he had no one to help him sift through the shit in the sewage pipe. He found the ring too, in the end. But the stone was missing. And fifty bucks just wasn't going to replace an antique emerald.
“LookâI've lost Rosetta, my satellite,” she explained, trying to remain calm. “I don't have time for any shit, Jon. You help me with that, and I'll think about helping you.”
Rosetta was a European Space Agency probe designed to orbit the comet P/Wirtanen and deploy two 5kg probes,
RoLand
and
Champollion,
which would land on the periodic comet and drill into its ice core in search of amino acids, the building blocks of life. Launched in 2003, aboard
Ariane 5
from Kourou, French Guyana, it took nine years to get into position. But during its last elliptic orbit, at an altitude of 500,000 km and at a velocity of 100 meters per second, at precisely 9:18 P.M., contact with the probe was lost.
RoLand
and
Champollion,
which would land on the periodic comet and drill into its ice core in search of amino acids, the building blocks of life. Launched in 2003, aboard
Ariane 5
from Kourou, French Guyana, it took nine years to get into position. But during its last elliptic orbit, at an altitude of 500,000 km and at a velocity of 100 meters per second, at precisely 9:18 P.M., contact with the probe was lost.
Matheson peered at more data screens, utterly drawing a blank. “And this works ⦠how?” he asked a technician.
“There are six interferometers, or gravity-wave detectors,” the technician explained impatiently, “that run down two, four-kilometer-long, vacuum-sealed channels. What we do is beam laser light down these channels, then split the light through beam splitters. Bounce the light around using mirrors, then re-combine the light and analyze it.”
“And this achieves what, exactly?” Matheson asked, still none the wiser.
“A gravitational wave alters the light's intensity.”
“That's it?”
“That's it.”
“There's no way on earth you can measure the velocity, the speed and direction of a wave with that kind of set-up.”
“We know,” the technician conceded darkly. “But tell that to Hackett.”
Hackett was engrossed in a simulated chart of the solar system with Weisner and Austin at a workstation over in one dimly lit corner. Pearce approached them quietly.
“Whether you like it or not,” Hackett was saying, “these waves
have
to be linked to magnetism. Or at least the magnetic activity on the sun. Nick, this set-up's been operational how long? Eight years? And until this week you hadn't even
had a sniff of a gravity wave. Not one. And now, this weekâfour. Is it coincidence that this week is the same week when the sun reaches the high point in its sunspot cycle?”
have
to be linked to magnetism. Or at least the magnetic activity on the sun. Nick, this set-up's been operational how long? Eight years? And until this week you hadn't even
had a sniff of a gravity wave. Not one. And now, this weekâfour. Is it coincidence that this week is the same week when the sun reaches the high point in its sunspot cycle?”
Weisner raked her fingers roughly through her long dark hair. “Jon, you think the sun's going to give you the Grand Unified Theory?” she scoffed.
“The what?” Pearce blurted. He hadn't intended to say anything, and it was obvious Hackett wished he hadn't.
“The Grand Unified Theory, or the Theory of Everything,” Austin said, happy to explain. “The theory that links gravity, electromagnetism, and the strong and weak nuclear forces into one simple equation. It's the Holy Grail of physics.”
“And I'm suggesting no such thing,” Hackett said firmly. “I'm only suggesting where you should look for your satellite.”
He turned their attention back to the screen by tapping his pen on the sun. “Sunspots are polarized linked pairs on the surface, like a bar magnet. Y'know, north and south? The lead spot matches the polarization of the area of the sun it appears in. So if that area is positive the spot will be positive. The trailing sunspot in the pair will then automatically be negative. As the sunspot cycle continues, the sunspots start to gather around the equator, which in turn rotates slower than the rest of the sun. With me so far?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now this is important. The magnetic links between the spots interact with other magnetic phenomena under normal circumstances. And the result is an explosion of ejecta off the surfaceâ”
“A solar flare.”
“Right. The best way to think of sunspot magnetism is like little invisible loops, like snags in a sweater, sewn in and out of the surface of the sun. But the curious thing is, in the last week solar-flare activity has actually fallen, while sunspots have increased tenfold.”
“So ⦠that leads you to what?”
Hackett rubbed his face and sniffed. “I was thinking about the original search parameters for ELIGO. Austin, you theorized that a binary neutron star system would be the best candidate for producing gravity waves. As the two stars collided they would become a massive rotating barbell, flipping
end over end, at speeds approaching something like the speed of light. Now keep the idea of that barbell shape in mind. But transfer it to the sun.”
end over end, at speeds approaching something like the speed of light. Now keep the idea of that barbell shape in mind. But transfer it to the sun.”
“That's a big stretch.”
Hackett dismissed him with a shake of the head. “Think about it,” he said. “You get enough sunspots together and they're gonna wind up linking end to end. Negative to positive. They're gonna form a chain, like a daisy chain of independent magnetic units, and this chain is gonna stretch all the way around the equator of the sun like a belt. And all it takes is to be a few sunspots short, and this belt is gonna tighten, pulling the equator in. Squeezing the sun's internal volume out to its northern and southern hemispheres. It would look ⦠like a barbell. Its natural instinct is going to be to return to the center. And that action, at its quickest and most temporary level, would be a good candidate for causing gravity waves.”
Hackett slipped a computer disk into the workstation. Punched up his data. “Okay, now when you figure in the gravitational effects of the planets, their moons, comets and other known stellar bodies like asteroids, you getâwell, take a look.”
A simulation of a wave blasting out from the sun played out brightly across the screen. Interaction with planets broke the wave up in places, causing sections of it to collapse in on itself. But eventually a small green cross-hair zeroed in on one section.
Weisner leaned forward. “That's where you think I'll find Rosetta?”
“Two hundred and fifty thousand kilometers off course,” Hackett confirmed. “And because it wasn't programmed to expect the fabric of space to suddenly warp, it's looking to re-establish contact with the earth in entirely the wrong part of the sky. We shifted along with it. Everything in the solar system shifted. But from Rosetta's point of view, it's like its whole universe is suddenly a fraction of an inch out of whack. But it hasn't been programmed to recognize that.”
He tapped the screen again. “That's where your satellite is. Right there.”
Austin and Weisner eyed each other silently for a moment. She had her hand over her mouth as she considered
the implications. “It's worth a shot,” Austin conceded. “What would it take? A few minutes of communications time to reposition the dishes and take a look. Doesn't sound so bad to me.”
the implications. “It's worth a shot,” Austin conceded. “What would it take? A few minutes of communications time to reposition the dishes and take a look. Doesn't sound so bad to me.”
“Sounds bad enough to me,” Weisner sighed. Austin didn't understand. “Because that would make Jon right. And then I'd have to thank him.”
“You don't have to thank me,” Hackett interjected quickly. “Just do me that favor.”
She leveled her gaze at him in that way that could only say: What is it that you want from me?
“You still dating that guy who's doing all that top-secret light computer work for the Japanese? Working on those crystals that can store about a terabyte of data on a unit the size of a stock cube?”
“You know I am. You hate him, so why the sudden interest?”
Hackett smiled and pulled out the chunk of C60 like a rabbit out of a hat. Austin looked awestruck while Pearce shifted on his feet, cringing. That wasn't the best idea, in his opinion. Trouble was, Hackett didn't want his opinion. “Do you think nature can accidentally encode computer-useful information at a molecular level?”
“You want him to scan that rock and see what he gets out of it?”
“Please. It's probably just garbage. I mean, statistically it's gotta be garbageâright?”
“Establish contact with my satellite first.”
It took Hackett ten minutes.
Other books
15 Years Later: Wasteland by Nick S. Thomas
Never Less Than a Lady by Mary Jo Putney
Dark Titan Journey: Wilderness Travel by Thomas A. Watson
Baby Doll Games by Margaret Maron
Out of Turn by Tiffany Snow
The Making of a Submissive Wife (Suzi's Journey Book 1) by C J Edwards
Sometime Yesterday by Yvonne Heidt
I Had to Say Something by Mike Jones
His Bacon Sundae Werewolf by Angelique Voisen
Tangled Webs by Anne Bishop
