by Will James
“And this discovery challenges the current thinking – whatever that is – sorry, but you lost me on that part, it challenges the current thinking on the subject of ‘dark matter’. What do you mean by dark matter? I don’t think I understand.”
Dev nodded. His face was grave. He took a deep breath. “OK, right, well there is dark energy – it turns out that roughly seventy five per cent of the universe is dark energy and then there is dark matter, which is about twenty per cent and finally there is matter, which is pretty much everything else that we can measure with instruments and that makes about five per cent. Are you with me?”
“Yup, with you so far.”
“Right. Dark energy is the stuff that affects the expansion of the universe, but no-one knows exactly what it is made up of. I’m not going to confuse you with particle science but with my calculations, what I think I now know challenges all the thinking on what dark matter is and how it interacts with the universe to date.” He ran his hands through his hair and pushed it back off his face.
Molly thought for a moment, trying to take it all in. “Blimey. So that’s pretty big then?”
“Yup.” Dev smiled, but his face was strained.
“So why is this a problem? Isn’t it, like, the best thing that ever happened to you? I mean you could change the world, couldn’t you? You’re a genius, aren’t you?”
Dev shook his head. “No. What I’ve discovered is not some amazing invention. If I’ve got it right, I don’t think anyone is going to thank me for it.”
Molly stared at him. “OK, so what does this all mean?”
Dev paused, then said, very seriously, “If dark matter is what I think it is then I believe it means that the Earth is spinning out of control. The energy created by the dark matter - which according to my calculations is increasing - is pulling the Earth out of its orbit around the sun.” He stood up and the enormity of what he was saying began to sink in. Molly felt herself go cold.
“Life on Earth exists because we are in what is called the Goldilocks Zone, which is just right to sustain existence. If the angle of the orbit is even one degree out, then we would either freeze or burn and all life would cease to exist. With an increase in the energy that constitutes dark matter there will be a change in the angle of the orbit. It’s inevitable.”
Molly listened with dawning horror at this terrifying statement, willing it to be untrue, though the conviction in Dev’s eyes told her otherwise. “So the earth will begin to spin out of the orbit round the sun...”
“Yes.”
They sat there in silence for a few moments. Then Molly stood up. “You must have got it wrong Dev,” she said, “it can’t be right. People must know about this, there must be scientists who...-”
Dev shook his head. “It’s not wrong and I am the first person to have worked it out.”
“Have you told anyone about this?” she spluttered. Again Dev shook his head grimly.
“No one would believe me if I did,” he said, “They’d think I was insane.”
Molly looked at him then, his hair on end with all the times he’d run his fingers through it, and recognised those eyes that burnt with frustration and resignation. It was exactly how she felt; she understood his problem and felt a new closeness to him.
“I’m just a kid with a mathematical brain who has worked his way through all the books and all the theories on Astrophysics and come up with this. No-one is ever going to take me seriously.”
She thought about the voices and the shadowy figures; she thought about the dark, lonely boy down in the front room and she knew what it was to hold a secret; something that no-one would ever believe.
“So dark matter,” she began, “This energy. What do you think it is?”
Dev sighed. “I think it’s made up of particles, axions, or some kind of WIMPs.”
“WIMPs?”
“Weakly Interacting Massive Particles...” He looked at her. “Don’t worry about it; just imagine some kind of energy particle that we can’t fathom.”
“OK. Then it seems that if you know that this energy, this dark matter is expanding and altering the angle of the orbit then you need to find out what the energy is made up of, right?”
Dev grinned. He shook his head again and kept grinning. “Yeah, right.”
“What’s so funny?”
Dev came and sat down on the bed next to her and Molly felt a jolt, like someone had just shot her through with electricity. He took her hand. “If I could find the secret of dark matter Molly, I could save the world.”
She smiled back at him. “And your point is?” She looked at the reams of calculations on the wall opposite her, at the books on the shelves, at the complex computer program on the screen of the PC. “You’re halfway there Dev,” she said.
Suddenly the shadowy figure of a boy appeared just inside the door. He stood and watched them on the bed. Molly eased her hand away from Dev’s and stood up. “And it seems to me that if you can do this much, you can do more.” She turned and looked at him. “So?”
“So what?” Dev asked.
“So what are we waiting for? You said that if you could find the secret of dark matter you could...”
“Save the world.”
“Exactly.”
They looked at each other and smiled. They both knew that whatever Dev was going to do, Molly would help him and for the first time in ages, neither of them felt alone.
CHAPTER 5 - London
Molly woke with a start from her nightmare, sitting up in bed shaking and drenched in sweat. The images of the world spinning away from the sun, of ice and dark faces crying, screaming, began to fade, but the darkness pressed in around her and she peered into the gloom, watching as the familiar shapes of her room slowly emerged.
The echo of voices from the dream still sounded in the blackness. She took a deep breath to steady her racing heart, rolling over to turn on the light on the table beside her bed. The dimness vanished, retreating into eerie shadows that slid along the walls and pooled upon the floor. The light illuminated the figure of a boy sitting in a chair across her room, head lolling onto his shoulders as he slept.
Not for long. The bright light pierced through his dreamless state and he stuttered awake, his soundless snores ending abruptly as he blearily opened his eyes then shut them again.
“Turn it off!” he said grumpily, pulling his hood up over his head. “I was sleeping.”
He opened one eye and looked at her. “Or at least I think I was sleeping. My mind was blank anyway.”
Molly ignored him. She sat up, stared fixedly at the wall and tried to pretend he wasn’t there – not easy as he started humming.
“Shut up!” she said. She was annoyed. Hadn’t he given her enough trouble today? She just couldn’t get rid of him – from the street to the café, to the cinema, Dev’s and now here, home – even in the privacy of her own room he was there. She hugged her knees and tried to block out the constant low humming.
“What is your problem?!” she suddenly snapped.
“What’s yours?!” he snapped back. “It’s three a.m.” Zack threw off his hood and stood up, stretching out his cramped muscles. The light made no shadow on the wall behind him.
“So? You’re dead. What does it matter to you?”
He shrugged. “I dunno. It just does, that’s all.”
Molly shook her head and continued to stare at the wall.
“What was it anyway? Nightmare or something?” Zack’s voice was needling. “Pathetic little dream?” He wanted to get a rise out of Molly.
“Yes,” she said dully, “it was - a bad one.”
Zack paced the floor a couple of times, still humming then sat back down. He watched the girl in bed for a few minutes, wondering what to do next. He wasn’t used to being ignored. All his life Zack had gained attention by being irritating, and, as he got older, by being nasty and sometimes vicious. It worked. Even bad attention was better than no attention and the nastier he was, the more vic
ious he was, the more attention he got.
“Aww did little Molly have a bad dream?” he mimicked, “Oh, poor little Molly.”
Molly looked away, refusing to be drawn in. The silence stretched between them, elongating as the seconds ticked by.
“OK!” Zack suddenly said, unable to take being shut out. “What was it about then?”
He came over to the bed and sat down. He was weightless and made no impact on the bed. He wasn’t especially interested in her dream. There was nothing more boring than having to listen to someone drone on about themselves, but Zack didn’t like silence – it made him uneasy; it gave him time to think and that wasn’t good.
Molly looked at him and weighed up the options. She could turn off the light and ignore him, but she wasn’t tired now and sleep would evade her, she knew that. If she spoke to him, and it might help to have someone to confide in, there was always the probability that he would mock her or even worse, that he’d form some kind of relationship with her and she would never, ever get rid of him. But, and this is what made her do it, talking was a way of unburdening and her dreams were a terrible burden.
She looked at him. He was waiting for her explanation.
“I can hear voices inside my head,” she said, watching his face for any reaction. “They are constant, they never stop. It’s like there are thousands of people trapped and crying out for help and I can hear them all. Sometimes at night I can hear them in my dreams too.” She bit her lip. “And see them – the voices become faces – but only in my dreams thank God - all crying in pain, all looking at me.”
Zack watched her. He felt something close to sympathy, but he had never felt it before and couldn’t exactly place the feeling.
“That’s tough,” he said.
Molly snorted. “That’s one way of putting it. Others include, mad, loony, freakish, INSANE!” She shook her head. “I can hear and see dead people – how weird is that?”
Zack smiled. “I dunno. I am dead, apparently, but I’m still here. How weird is that?”
Grudgingly, Molly smiled back. She hugged her knees tighter. “I can’t help thinking that they’re here for a reason, you know, like they’re trapped or something?” She looked at him. “I know, that’s even weirder, isn’t it?”
He bit his tongue and thought hard, trying to decide how much he should tell her. He settled on the truth. “I can see them too,” he said tentatively.
Molly gave him a look that suggested that she didn’t quite believe him. Undeterred he pressed on, even more carefully now, suddenly aware that he was sharing more than he’d ever done before.
“I think I can see people who are dead,” he said quietly, “although I’m not quite sure. There are lots of dark shapes which blur and fade into the crowds. They give off this sort of light, like a weird glow. They scare me...”
“So, you’re dead and you can see them and I’m alive and I can see them. What does that mean?”
“That we’re made for each other?”
Molly laughed, but she saw his vulnerability again, in the same way she’d seen it at the door of the café earlier in the day. He was tough and sometimes mean and aggressive, but there was something underneath all that, something that she recognized in herself; loneliness and fear.
“I know I should have asked earlier, but who are you?” she said, “What’s your name?”
“Zack,” Zack said, seemingly unwilling to expand any further.
“Zack what?” Molly pressed him. “What’s your surname?”
Zack shrugged. “I dunno. I was adopted. It was Healey... but they gave me back, I was too much hard work, so I dunno what it is. Healey I suppose, but I don’t use it.” He shrugged again and Molly could hear the edge to his voice – something hard and painful.
“Sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be. I’m not.” He stood up and paced the floor again.
“Where are you from?”
“Newcastle.”
“You haven’t got an accent, how long were you...?”
“What’s this?” he interrupted, “Twenty questions?” He turned on her. “I got a train. I was homeless. In trouble. That’s all you need to know. All right?” His voice was angry and sharp.
Molly bristled. “All right. I was only asking!” She was cross too. Here he was, in her room, at 3 am, snapping at her again. “It’s polite you know, to ask people about themselves!”
“Yeah?” he challenged.
“Yeah!” she shot back.
“Well I wouldn’t know about that. They didn’t do polite in the home I was brought up in. They did hitting and kicking and telling you you’re crap, but not polite!”
Molly stared at him. He stared back at her.
“Sorry,” she said.
He dug his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, well...” He looked away and then glanced back at her, only briefly. “Sorry too...” he mumbled. Molly sensed that the apology cost him a lot.
“Look, is it ok if I turn off the light? I should try and get some sleep,” she asked.
Zack shrugged. He wasn’t used to agreeing to things, to doing what other people wanted. He didn’t want Molly to go to sleep – he wanted the light on, he didn’t want to be alone in the dark, but he said nothing, just scowled, with his chin down.
Molly picked up on this. She said, “How about I turn off the main lamp and leave the night light on. I think I’ve got one somewhere in my drawer – my mum used to have it on for me when I was sick.”
She climbed out of bed and rummaged in her chest of drawers for a minute or so. “Here!” she announced. “Here it is. I can plug this in and then it won’t be dark, but I can maybe still get to sleep.”
She turned and held it up for Zack. He nodded; chin still down on his chest.
Molly plugged in the light and climbed back into bed. She turned off her bedside lamp and lay down in the darkness. Only a small glow from the night light kept the room from its ominous shadows.
“You OK?” she said quietly into the darkness.
“Yup.”
She rolled over to go to sleep. Zack was odd; lonely and annoying and she had an awful feeling that she wasn’t going to get rid of him in the near future, but Molly felt an odd connection to the boy sitting on the chair opposite her bed, in the dark. Life was weird, she thought, and frightening, with Dev’s theory and dark voices and shadows in the night. But the boy was there for a reason. She didn’t know what it was, but she knew it was important and she knew that he hadn’t come back from the dead for nothing.
*
A remote area of North Korea
The assassin moved stealthily. That was the first thing that the Colonel noted about him as he walked through the door of his office. His movements were unhurried and he gave the impression of great calm, it was almost as if he moved unnoticed. The Colonel blinked and the assassin was there, in front of him without a sound.
The Colonel offered his hand as the young man drew nearer and the assassin took it, his grip of iron suggesting an immense strength. The assassin sat down and waited for the Colonel to speak, sitting perfectly still, watching the older, and more senior man, with no deference.
The Colonel found that he couldn’t meet those grey eyes for long; they were utterly expressionless, something that unnerved him greatly. Clearing his throat, he began to brief the young man on the problem that they had discovered.
“You’ve seen the labs?”
The young man nodded.
“This operation is one of the most important in the history of the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea. We are on the brink of an exciting discovery; something that will change the world forever...”
He paused. There was no reaction; he went on.
“Our team of scientists have discovered how to manipulate dark matter and in combining it with anti-matter we are able to create an explosive force the like of which the world has never seen.”
The Colonel stopped again. He eyed the young man in front of him, trying to gau
ge his reaction to this astonishing and terrifying news. The assassin merely blinked; his face an unreadable mask. The Colonel, feeling robbed of his satisfaction, continued.
“This explosive force is bigger than the hydrogen bomb. The Dark Matter Bomb is our crowning moment.” Once more he stopped. He was suddenly overcome with patriotic emotion. He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders.
“The DPR of Korea finally has a weapon which will ensure our supremacy over the rest of the world, something that we will be able to achieve comprehensively. From this position of pre-eminence, The DPR of Korea will be able to lead the world into a golden age of freedom and peace.” The reality of North Korean supremacy would of course be much different, though the Colonel decided not to let the young man in on that secret. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
“However, we have encountered a problem. Forty eight hours ago, the situation changed.” The Colonel noticed that the assassin stood a little more alert at this point. He seemed to be listening with every nerve in his body.
“Two of our operatives reported seeing a strange light at precisely 11:05 while out on patrol in our no entry zone - this is a zone where we are able to accumulate dark matter via a complex anti particle storage system, the APSS– but what concerns us the most is that at this exact moment our reserves of dark matter vanished, it was annihilated. The metre reading on our machines dropped to zero and we have been unable to recover it since.”
The assassin moved across to the plate glass wall of the office that looked out onto the bunkered corridors of the operation. “And now?” he asked. His voice was cold.
“Of course we have the technology to recover more dark matter,” the Colonel went on, “but it is imperative that we find the source of the annihilation. We don’t know how this happened and we don’t know why. It may be a one off incident, a – how shall I say – a freak of nature, but if there is chance that this occurrence could happen again then we must find the reason for the disappearance. We are not in a position at this stage to leave anything to chance.”
The assassin turned from the glass and stared at the Colonel. Suddenly the Colonel was unnerved by the grey, impenetrable stare.
