by Dennis Elder
Junior Taylor was the smartest guy Mark ever met. Mark played chess with him a few times. Junior always won… in seven moves or less. He was an M1 Tank commander for three years. Junior handled the money and was instrumental in finding their startup capital.
Samuel Watkins was smart too. Not book learning smart like Junior, but was a lieutenant in the Intelligence corp. If their company, Innovative Combat Inc., needed any more employees, Mark planned to put Sam in charge of the new hire interviews. Only the very strong could survive a Sammy Watkins interview.
They had a Doctor working for them too. Edward Martin and Mark became good friends ever since 120 Al Qaeda terrorists in the hills above Kandahar ambushed Mark’s company. Doc Martin was a surgeon and single handedly saved the lives of 25 of the wounded. Doc Martin also developed Innovative Combat Inc’s first official product. It was called, “CoagQuick.” Originally derived from combining Afghan herbs Sage and Leopard bane. Local Afghan healers told Doc if these two herbs were combined with goat’s milk it would reduce severe bleeding. The final combination included some industrial polymers that brought better stability to the solution. After 3 years of FDA trials they were awarded a patent. GoagQuick became an instant US Military hit. Last year they sold exclusive manufacturing rights to Galaxo/Kline for 2.7 million and would share in 25% of all gross profits for the next 25 years. The payoff got them out of the red, paid off most of their lending capital and let them focus on their latest company project – the “SmartScope.”
The plane bucked hard again, eliciting a couple of sharp screams. But it didn’t wake up Boon Seteran, Innovative Combat’s Chief Logistics officer. Boon was snoring so loud Mark could hear him seven rows back. The guy could sleep through an artillery barrage. But man could Boon plan. Most efficient Project Manager in the bunch.
The Military had taken its usual divorce toll on most of them. Mark’s wife left him during his first tour of duty. He had two sons, and his genius boy Scott was in his fourth year of med school in Omaha. Tyrone’s wife was still with him. The other guys seemed to drift in and out of relationships.
Mark smiled to himself and thought, “maybe they had been out of the military harness for a few years, but as a group, they could still kick ass and take names.” Hopefully things on the home front would change after a few more years of civilian success. They certainly earned a little break time. But one thing was for sure, Susie was right, they had all eaten too many Cheeseburgers.
The plane touched down and muffled tire skids were heard throughout the cabin.
Twenty minutes later Mark Harris and his band of Ex-military, now civilian business wana-bees, were walking toward baggage claim. They carried a lot of heavy equipment and first generation SmartScopes to demo at this year’s US Police convention held in the Anaheim Civic Center. Police representatives from all over the country came together annually to evaluate the latest in technology, protective gear and other law enforcement equipment.
In years past Innovative Combat had brought a small two-man contingent to the annual convention to show off their CoagQuick product, but with their recent financial success, Mark promised to bring the whole crew this year. Everyone wanted to be at the formal launch of their latest tech product, the SmartScope.
The SmartScope was designed as a new age and high-tech rifle or pistol scope. It featured the very latest in infrared, long and short distance magnification optics, motion sensors, reflective beam technologies, and the feature that would make it a must have with every Police Department in the US, the SmartScope could literally see behind walls. And it didn’t matter how thick the walls were either.
The behind the wall’s thing was Mark’s idea. He had been in numerous firefights inside Afghan homes and back yards, and a lot of guys got killed because Al Qaeda was famous for strapping bombs to their bodies and waiting behind walls until a couple of GIs’ got close enough to detonate their bombs. A lot of guys got hit with small arms fire too when Al Qaeda snipers fired on his troops from behind second story windows. Room to room fighting had taken out a lot of his friends. The SmartScope was sure to revolutionize Police Swat Team tactics and save a lot of lives.
Susie walked next to Mark as the team continued from the concourse toward the baggage area.
“You sure this is gonna work?” teased Mark.
Susie didn’t even look up and responded with conviction, “Dam right its gonna work. It’s gonna blow their socks off, Major.”
Mark smiled and replied. “It better, and don’t call me Major. That was another life. Now I’m just a working stiff trying to make a buck.”
“Well I think you’re going to make a lot of bucks after tomorrow’s first demo,” said Susie.
“We’re all going to make a lot of bucks, Susie,” Mark said with emphasis.
Suddenly the group found themselves outdoors. Mark turned to Boon and asked, “I thought we were going to baggage first.”
“Faster if we pick up the vans first and then pull up next to the baggage claims area. I already sent Jake and Junior to claim our bags,” said Boon.
Tyrone set down his carry-on bags and looked up. The Sun was high in the sky and beads of perspiration were showing on Tyrone’s forehead.
“Seems kinda hot for November,” suggested Tyrone.
“You never know in LA. Summer can last a long time here. Hell, January temps rarely get below 55 degrees,” countered Boon as he opened a folder and looked over his map and car rental info.
“Well, said Tyrone again, “still awful hot for November.”
Chapter 2: NOAA
Kevin Phillips thought it was unusually hot too. But he was staring at a temperature reading from the Sun’s surface.
Kevin was a NOAA scientist. NOAA was short for National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. He was one of NOAA’s more recent hires and worked in the Space Weather Prediction Center located in Nipton, California. Nipton was a small desert town about 20 miles from the Nevada Border. The NOAA facility was a satellite office that housed the Research and Customer Requirements section. His Ph.D. theoretical work on “Spicule energy originations and their triggers,” had captured the attention of NOAA’s department director, Dr. Gerald Feinstein. Spicules are basically large bursts of energy that constantly rise to the Sun’s surface. They appear as dark tubes. At any given time, there are approximately 60,000 of these on the Sun’s surface. Kevin had hatched a theory that Spicules were triggered by sound waves; a theory trashed by most of his contemporaries. But Dr. Feinstein saw a sliver of genius in Kevin’s ideas. So, he hired him right out of school and brought him to Nipton.
NOAA’s Space Weather Prediction Center (SWPC) is America’s official space weather warning organization. SWPC provides real-time monitoring and forecasting of solar and geophysical events, which impact satellites, power grids, communications, navigation, and other technological systems.
NOAA’s main office was in Boulder Colorado, where Dr. Feinstein directed the affairs of the entire organization. Recently Kevin sent Dr. Feinstein a research paper on a new theory – suggesting if the Earth’s Solar Maximum cycle was lengthened by 20% the chances of a catastrophic-level solar event in the next six months would rise above 65%. The typical solar cycle ended every 11 years. These regular cycles had been tracked for about the last 90 years, without any increase or decrease in the 11-year cycle. Except this year, when the Solar Maximum, the period where the sun’s activity is at its greatest, was now in its 12th year. And now solar activity was increasing every month.
Kevin sat at his computer. It was a big day for him. Dr. Feinstein was going to give him feedback on his new theory. Suddenly Dr. Feinstein’s voice and video connection rang. Dr. Feinstein’s image appeared, and Kevin waved an instinctive hello.
“Dr. Phillips,” said Dr. Feinstein as he offered a welcoming nod.
“Dr. Feinstein. It’s kind of you to connect with me, sir. I’ve been looking forward to your insights,” offered Kevin.
“Thank you. I’ve been looking for
ward to our discussion as well,” responded Dr. Feinstein.
“You’ve read my paper?” questioned Kevin.
“Yes,” responded Dr. Feinstein without emotion.
Kevin wondered what Dr. Feinstein’s evaluation would bring. He had the highest regard for his new boss.
“And your thoughts?” questioned Kevin again.
Dr. Feinstein kept his silence. He had been director of NOAA for 15 years now. He had learned the value of camouflaging his emotions. Kevin knew immediately Dr. Feinstein had some concerns.
“I need to be honest with you Kevin,” offered Dr. Feinstein.
“I would expect nothing less from you sir,” responded Kevin.
“Your conclusions are bold,” suggested Dr. Feinstein without flinching. The silence that followed made Kevin suddenly very uncomfortable and he did his best to emulate this new mentor’s temperance.
“You believe that within a year, if solar surface activity continues to increase that there is a 65% chance of a catastrophic radiation event, correct?” asked Dr. Feinstein.
Kevin didn’t even blink. “Yes sir,” he responded.
Silence reigned again. So, Kevin plowed forward.
“My conclusions are based on irregular Magnetic line activities. As you know every 11 years the Sun’s magnetic field shifts from one pole to the other. This has been happening like clock for as long as we’ve been tracking it. Except this last year. The speed of the Sun’s rotation at its equator has increased significantly, explaining the Sun’s inability to naturally reverse its magnetic field. The speed should be slowing, said Kevin.
“Maybe,” suggested Dr. Feinstein. “But your speed calculations are based solely on the sound trigger work you did at Harvard. Very few, if any leading solar scientists agreed with those postulations.”
“I know. But it was the only way to measure the potential effects of multi Magnetic line terminations,” begged Kevin.
The silence came back again. This time Kevin was wise enough to let Dr. Feinstein respond.
Then Dr. Feinstein took a deep breath and said, “I agree with your conclusions.”
Kevin was taken off guard for moment. He didn’t know what to say.
“Really?” expressed Kevin with reservation.
Dr. Feinstein shook his head in the affirmative and said, “I agree with every conclusion except one.”
Kevin’s growing happiness suddenly stopped short.
“Except my conclusion on Gamma Ray radiation… right?” suggested Kevin.
“Correct,” responded Dr. Feinstein.
“But the evidence is there,” pleaded Kevin.
“Some evidence,” tempered Dr. Feinstein.
“But if I’m right, if there is a chance….” Kevin pleaded again.
The silence was back again. Dr. Feinstein could see and sense Kevin’s frustration and offered a compromise.
“I’m suggesting that you publish your paper, but with a primary focus on Magnetic Line Terminations,” offered Dr. Feinstein in conciliatory tone. “I’ll even write the introduction.”
Kevin thought for a moment. Getting someone like Feinstein to write an introduction for his paper was monumental. So, he was careful with is next response. He didn’t want to offend Dr. Feinstein.
“But I’d need to remove any reference to Gamma Ray eruptions, right?” stated Kevin.
“Yes,” concluded Dr. Feinstein. “I think it would be the best course for the present. And in a year, we will re-evaluate based on the ongoing evidence, and if the risk continues, then your Gamma Ray position will be that much more strengthened. I’ll even help you with the revised measurement research.”
Dr. Feinstein was a good man. Kevin sensed it the first time he met him, and he felt that Dr. Feinstein was just looking out for his best interests.
But Kevin was convinced his Gamma Ray conclusions were correct. What he knew and was suggesting was something that shouldn’t wait. It should be communicated immediately, and at the national level. But he also realized that if he pressed the issue to hard he might alienate his new boss and mentor.
“You’re probably right,” Kevin finally responded. But disappointment was etched on his face.
Dr. Feinstein nodded his approval over the video connection again.
“Trust me on this Dr. Phillips. Your Magnetic Line Activity paper is going to do a great deal for your career,” counseled Dr. Feinstein. “Consider the long view on this.”
“I appreciate the help Dr. I really do.” Offered Kevin with a semi-convincing smile on his face.
“Good. Then it’s settled. I’ve made a few minor notations on your paper and will pass them on to you via e-mail. And I’ll get started on the introduction next week, OK?” offered Dr. Feinstein.
“That’s great,” responded Kevin.
“Talk to you soon,” concluded Dr. Feinstein.
“Until then sir,” said Kevin.
Both men simultaneously reached for the termination button on their computers and the connection was broken.
Kevin sat for a few minutes thinking over what just happened. He was disappointed that Dr. Feinstein didn’t embrace all his conclusions, but he also realized it was probably the best thing – at least for now.
He turned to the computer again and checked the video connection to see if his buddy, Johnny Harline at Penn State, was in his lab. Johnny was his link to the Swift Gamma Ray Burst Telescope currently pointed at a deep star nebula, twenty degrees above the Sun’s Northern pole. Johnny was a doctoral candidate at Penn and his area of study was deep space Gamma Radiation origins. Kevin and Johnny had been the ones who had done the first round of research suggesting our own Sun might trigger Gamma Radiation bursts given the right set of circumstances.
Kevin punched in the connection on his main computer monitor. He could see the back of Johnny’s head. Johnny sported a 70’s afro hairstyle and he was adamantly opposed to ever wearing a tie. Johnny turned to his video camera and smiled.
“Dude,” exclaimed Johnny after he reached to adjust the volume. “Wasss up?”
“Hey Johnny, how’s it hangin?” said Kevin.
“Bout the same as yesterday,” replied Johnny. Then Johnny sensed Kevin was down a little and said, “So, your paper. I take it the bosses review didn’t go so well.”
“Well…. he bought most of it,” offered Kevin.
“But not the Gamma Ray conclusions,” finished Johnny.
“Nope,” said Kevin.
“Told ya,” replied Johnny. “Not enough research yet.”
“That’s exactly what he said,” responded Kevin with a forced smile.
“You gonna publish without the Gamma conclusions?” questioned Johnny.
“Yea. And Feinstein offered to write the introduction,” added Kevin.
Johnny’s face lit up and he offered a big smile before saying, “Well that’s something!”
“Yea, I guess,” replied Kevin half-heartedly.
“You guess?” barked Johnny. “Are you kiddin? An intro from the Director of NOAA. That’s like money in the bank man! Take it and run,” finished Johnny.
Kevin’s smile grew to full measure. He appreciated his friend’s praise and knew in his heart that Feinstein’s compromise idea was for the best. It’s just that he knew he was right about his gamma ray conclusions. Then Kevin leaned forward with his hand on the computer keyboard.
“OK, well I think I’m gonna head home to get a few hours rest. I promised Laurie to take her shift watch tonight,” whined Kevin.
“I hear that,” responded Johnny. I’m working a double shift tonight too. Need the dough if you know what I mean,” said Johnny.
After a moment of silence Kevin smiled sheepishly. “Any chance we could misappropriate a few more University funds this evening?” Kevin asked in code. Johnny’s eyebrows raised up a full inch.
“I think we could put something together,” responded Johnny as he looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was within hearing distance. “Besides, what
the University doesn’t know won’t hurt the University,” finished Johnny with a smile on his face.
“Cool,” responded Kevin. “I’ll connect back later tonight.”
“Later,” said Johnny as they both disconnected their video feeds.
Chapter 3: The 405
The freeways in Southern California are infamous for their congested traffic, especially during rush hours. Even though it was only 2pm in the afternoon, the 405 South was a parking lot.
