by Jim Lombardo
Monica and Brian excused themselves to another room to discuss the offer, while Hannah engaged in an animated discussion about the mysterious object with the scientists. The child had done more than just watch TV since the news had broken. She had been studying various branches of physics and astrobiology virtually non-stop, and had already begun contemplating possible explanations for the entity. It was gratifying to finally be able to share ideas with these men. They switched on the TV for the latest report. The broadcast was showing an editorial cartoon of the object, depicted as a huge gopher gnawing its way underneath a British village, while people above at ground level were fleeing in panic. The caption read: “E.P.I.C. FAILURE!”
Monica and Brian returned to join the group.
“One week,” said Brian firmly. “Just a week, and then hopefully everything is fine, and we can get back to our lives.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Breach
It was an otherwise beautiful summer afternoon on the eighth day of the crisis in the village of Lambourn, England, about 24 miles southwest of Titan. A radiant sun bathed the pastoral countryside with light. On this day, and in this area, was to be the anticipated breach, where the growing underground mass was expected to break over the topsoil, and for the first time be visible from ground level.
Most of the local inhabitants had heeded calls to evacuate. But the village was flooded with British Army soldiers, police, and groups of scientists commissioned by EPIC, along with a gutsy press contingent covering the story of their lives. An international military coalition was mobilized into the area to provide additional assistance. A few skittish farm animals who had strayed were scurrying to avoid being hit by vehicles crisscrossing the area.
Forces in charge of public safety were put in place to ensure that no civilians would be within a half mile of the expected ground zero for the breach, which was not far from the village center, in an open area of country used for farming and grazing of livestock.
Late in the afternoon, with a worldwide audience watching the drama unfold on TV, a depression in the gently rolling hills began to form. This coincided with a gradually intensifying sound of earth being moved. Finally a large, jet-black dome pushed up through the grassy ditch. The entire orb at this point had grown to a width of 600 feet.
The upper, visible portion continued to rise and expand throughout the day, as it plowed ahead on a southwesterly course. In its wake lay a massive open trench of dirt, grass, and rocks. The ominous rumbling noise was joined by a single, pure, and almost pleasant-sounding note, which was somehow being generated by the object’s interaction with the matter surrounding it. It resembled an amplified clarinet, holding one note continuously.
With nightfall the sight became even more spectacular. Although the blob of blackness itself was virtually invisible in the dark, the rainbow sparks that emanated from it occasionally created a multicolored aurora borealis effect. The solitary note ringing out was now pitched slightly lower, but still sounded like a beautiful instrument playing. A passing rainstorm in the middle of the night enhanced the visual effect even more. The water interacting with the object created a bluish, plasma-like coating that seemed to melt down the sides of the orb like an ice cream cone in the sun.
These dazzling qualities were in jarring contrast to the frenzied activity taking place on the ground in Lambourn. For the most part, the brave inhabitants who had refused to leave, along with the press, watched from a safe distance with a combination of awe and terror. Many without security clearance were recklessly trying to get closer to it, and had to be physically forced back by police and armed forces. A young, dapper gentleman stood on a wooden box with a megaphone imploring people to repent and be saved while there was still time. A cluster of people joined by religious faith had gathered together and were chanting the sacred mantra “Om” over and over again. The deep and haunting drone of their chanting reverberated down the streets of the village for hours, as the group tried to harness their collective spiritual powers to counter the entity.
Meanwhile, top scientists were announcing their projections to the public through the media. In the coming days, the marauding blob would be encroaching on numerous villages and cities in its path. A panicked mass exodus was underway in those areas. Gridlocked traffic, horns blaring, and tempers flaring became a secondary problem on a wide scale. Western portions of France and Spain were put on alert that an evacuation may soon be necessary as well.
Given its current course, the track was expected to bring the object’s center through the village of Shrewton, just 6 miles west of Amesbury, England, the site of the famed prehistoric monument of Stonehenge. Not taking any chances, a billionaire historical conservationist had agreed to fund an arduous and hasty removal of the giant stones, transferring them to London, England, to provide at least some temporary measure of protection.
The following day brought the first-known direct fatalities since Patrick Houseman had been killed. The globe was carving its way southward through the town of Axford, England, having traveled 35 miles in total, and had ballooned to almost a quarter of a mile in diameter. Though its girth was still inflating rapidly, its forward speed had diminished slightly for some unknown reason.
A middle-aged man, carrying a cardboard poster around town, had been urging followers to join him in the Battle of Armageddon against the anti-Christ. He managed to sneak through the barricades and took off sprinting directly towards the sphere, as if to block its destructive path, while holding up the sign and shouting something indistinguishable over the din coming from the object. No one noticed him until he was only 100 yards from it in an open farm field, at which point a young British soldier gave chase ordering him to halt. For those watching the event unfold, it appeared that just before reaching the globe, the older man’s movements slowed dramatically, until he seemed to be floating off the ground in mid-stride. He then came to a complete motionless state, suspended in the air. The soldier following him met the same fate just as he caught up. The crowd watched the two men, apparently frozen in space and time, remain in that exact state as the mass slowly enveloped them as it grew. With a few sparks and jets of color, they were overtaken, absorbed, and were gone.
Scientists had been hoping they could glean more information once the object had risen above ground, yet progress remained elusive. Gathering data on the interior was impossible because of the interference of electrical charges covering its surface. And the sphere itself was impenetrable. With Anderson’s help, EPIC had tried flying a drone into it. An inebriated cop got close to the globe during its first night above ground, and had fired a pistol at it. A tank without proper clearance had even discharged three armor-piercing rounds at it. But the drone and projectiles had no effect whatsoever. They merely slowed down and came to a complete stop before making contact, and then were enveloped and consumed.
Chapter Forty-Six
Marblehead
For three successive mornings at seven o’clock, Hannah was escorted by CTI Provost Jean Madison and a security detail, from the on-campus suite she was staying in with her parents, over to the Photonics Center lab to work on the crisis. The Provost was a taller than average woman with short gray hair and silver, wire-rimmed glasses. She was as gracious as she was brilliant. A doctor in engineering, she had left the warm climes of the University of Southern California to lead the institution into the new millennium. The Provost had been a presence at the apartment on a daily basis, making sure that the family was comfortable, and that their needs were being met.
Hannah’s research targeted the physics which the SSC and other smaller particle accelerators had been built to study. What had the findings been thus far? What had been learned about the Universe? What new particles or energy had been observed? Could any of this lead to an answer about the unknown object, and how to deal with it? She and her new colleagues carefully reviewed Anderson’s latest research work, which had been unique. He ha
d dove into unchartered waters by experimenting with collisions of unprecedented energies, pushing protons as well as the machine itself to the absolute extreme.
Certainly, Hannah had the endurance to stay in the lab continuously, but her parents had insisted on an eleven o’clock curfew to ensure she was getting proper breaks from the strain of the research. In reality, as they slept, she was pulling all-nighters, lying down with her eyes shut, continuing to review what she had learned, and thinking through new avenues this information brought up for consideration. The research professors in the lab with her were agreeable to her parents’ imposed schedule as they were having a difficult time enduring the mental and physical exhaustion of the work there, which was now in its second week for them. They also needed time away from Hannah to reconstruct their own work based on the input and feedback she was providing. The scientists had been helpful in coordinating her collaboration with key scientists around the world, including Anderson, who was in contact with her every day via Skype from Oxford.
“Hi, Marblehead,” Hannah greeted Anderson, using his nearby hometown as his name, which conveniently included a veiled tease as well.
“Hi, Hannah, want to play with physics today?”
Both understood how serious the circumstances were, but each were doing their best to keep the other relaxed and calm. Anderson always began by relaying the latest parameters on the object. They were hoping the recent deceleration in its lateral movement could provide clues as to its nature. Hannah securely emailed her new colleague her latest physics calculations, which they reviewed together. Despite the appearance of the sphere and the evidence of time dilation near the surface, she was working on a theory that the mass was not a black hole as many had postulated, but something else entirely.
“What’s the double asterisk in this formula, Hannah?”
“I don’t know what that is yet. It’s a force or some type of energy, but you can see that whatever it is, it needs to be in the equations. Maybe we’ll need to back into figuring out what it is.”
Despite the University’s efforts to maintain a low profile for Hannah, her location had been leaked to the press. With each passing day, the crowd of reporters, students, and others around the apartment and outside the lab became larger and more unruly.
On the fourth day since her arrival, a reporter, using an identification badge he had stolen from a CTI employee, had managed to gain access into the Photonics Center, and get very close to Hannah’s lab before being stopped and questioned. He resisted being arrested by campus police, and the ruckus had startled the child and her colleagues. After that episode, the University had petitioned the Governor of Massachusetts for beefed-up security both at the apartment and the lab. However, this only heightened Monica and Brian’s sense of alarm. Monica was anxiously anticipating the one-week commitment to be finished, while Brian had already run out of patience, and wanted to remove Hannah right away. Later that evening, while together as a family in the suite, Monica and Hannah had tried to convince him otherwise.
“Dad, look at the TV screen. This is serious business. There’s a time for me to help, and that time is now.”
“But these people around here are nuts. They’re pulling themselves up onto the window ledges. I want to go home, and have you with us around the clock. I wish we could just disappear, get out on a boat where no one could find us, and let someone else solve this.”
“They’ll be hanging off the window ledges at home, too, Dad. And we can sail off into the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, but you know what? If the press doesn’t find us, that thing will. Unfortunately, it’s stand and fight, Dad. There’s no running away from it.”
“I just don’t get why we can’t let someone else handle the problem. Why does it have to be you? Why does it always have to be you?”
“Because there’s only me, Dad,” Hannah explained candidly. “The scientists working with me on this are completely lost. They’re not even proposing any new ideas. I hate to put it this way, but their work is childlike.”
“Yeah? Well, you’re just a child, Hannah.”
“True, but honestly, I think I’m starting to get an...an inkling here. Meanwhile, according to my calculations, the Earth’s core will be breached in less than two months, and our atmosphere will be cooked. Nobody’s going to the lab after that point.”
“Don’t fight her, Brian,” Monica interjected. “At least let’s get through the rest of the week. We’re getting more security.”
Brian rubbed the back of his neck as he pondered his next move as a parent. “You don’t feel like you’re being incredibly used, Hannah?”
“No, Dad. I feel like I’m being incredibly useful.”
Just then the door to their suite was rammed open, and two male reporters stormed in followed by heavily equipped police in riot gear.
“Hannah, what’s going on? Please talk to us!” one of them yelled before being tackled to the ground from behind.
“Stop! You’re under arrest!” shouted the police.
Monica and Hannah jumped back, then froze in shock watching the drama unfolding in front of them. Brian turned towards the altercation and stood his ground defiantly.
“This is insanity!” he shouted, throwing up his hands in disgust. “Never mind the thing in England. This isn’t safe either. We’re outta here!”
Brian grabbed Hannah by the hand and started pulling her towards the door, but she yanked back as hard as she could.
“No, Dad! We can’t go! We can’t go!” she cried.
Monica stood back, holding her hand to her mouth as the two continued their tug-of-war, until one of the security men finally intervened.
“Easy now, easy now, what’s going on?”
“Get the hell out of our way. We’re leaving!”
“No, Dad! No!” Hannah shouted firmly.
A tandem of riot police blocked Brian’s path, and he responded by balling up his right fist and clocking one of them flush in his protective plastic visor. Brian was wrestled to the ground by officers, while wildly flailing at them.
“Get off me! Leave us alone!” he yelled.
Monica grabbed her daughter and guided her to a couch in the far corner of the room. She cradled Hannah in her arms, rocking her and covering her eyes from the scene.
Brian was forced onto his stomach and cuffed. One of the leaders got on his radio.
“We’re taking three people in. Get the transport ready.”
Monica, upon hearing that, burst into tears.
“I want to speak with Provost Madison right now!” she demanded.
But before the words had even exited her mouth, the Provost was walking into the suite with an appalled look on her face, and made her way directly over to Monica and Hannah. She had been coordinating with the institute’s police force as well as the newly arrived local and state police to ensure their safety. But, unfortunately, the different police organizations had not had time to properly coordinate their efforts, resulting in the security breakdown with the two reporters.
Monica explained what had transpired.
“I’m so sorry for this,” Madison said. “We’re getting the additional forces in place right now, and we’ll do whatever it takes to protect you. We’re grateful that you’re here, Hannah, but if you don’t want to be here, you just let me know.”
“Thank you, Jean, I do want to be here. I have to stay,” she said.
Monica nodded in agreement.
By the following morning, the campus looked more like a military base than a university. The new security added 50 U.S. National Guardsmen, four armored personnel carriers, and two military helicopters methodically canvassing the skies above the area.
Classes had been cancelled until further notice, and students were ordered to return home. Monica was now holed up in the apartment, afraid to venture out, but the Provost remained with her througho
ut each day. She was able to keep Monica updated on Hannah, who was now working in the lab on a continuous basis under heavy guard. Jean had also been able to get Monica in touch with Brian, who was being held pending a bail hearing, which had not yet been scheduled.
Although the extra security at CTI was helping, many factors hampered Hannah’s research there. The collaborative network that CTI was participating in was bringing together many of the top minds, but it was not as extensive and technologically robust as it could have been. For example, almost all of the research universities and private research companies included in the consortium were limited to the United States. Also, Hannah had no access to classified governmental research documents. Within the lab, the scientists were hindering her progress at times because she would often have to stop and take time to explain her line of reasoning and the mathematical calculations she was developing. To make matters worse, she had lost the support of the chairman of the physics department who had walked out fuming after Hannah had politely but systematically debunked one of his prized theorems in front of the entire research group. Much as it was against her nature to ruffle anyone’s feathers or bruise an ego, the child had felt there was simply no room for delicacy in this crucial and time-sensitive situation.
There were also numerous security distractions, including a bomb scare that had forced Hannah to evacuate the lab for two hours while bomb-sniffing dogs searched the lab. Upon her return she had suffered an allergic reaction to the dog dander, and had to take another unscheduled break to be treated. The happiest day of her stay at the lab was on the fifth day, when a tall man with a broad smile strode confidently into the room unannounced.
“Marblehead!” she cried happily, racing over to greet Anderson.
