The Origin of F.O.R.C.E.

by Sam B Miller II

  McPherson motioned for Cunningham to shut off the power and the wires stopped steaming, but the ozone smell still bit at their nostrils.

  With a loud snort, Dr. Heinbaum turned on his heel and strode back to his work bench. Watching Heinbaum's back as he walked away, Jerome McPherson rubbed his chin with his hand and thought about what he had just seen. The wiring acted like it was misconnected. Thinking back to his childhood when he used to play with magnets on the kitchen table, McPherson remembered that like poles on a magnet repel and opposite poles attract. Looking back at his apparatus, his eyes narrowed and a smile began to creep into his lips.

  "Walter," he said, as he turned back to the bench. "Let's try something."

  Reaching out to one of the electromagnet horseshoes, he turned it 180 degrees so the poles of the magnet contacting the dimples on that end of the power module were reversed. Checking to make sure the magnets were again lined up and in contact with the dimples on each end, he motioned for Cunningham to power up the generator again. This time, as the rheostat was turned up to 1,000 volts, the hum of the generator remained unchanged and no ozone smell rose from the equipment. Motioning again with his thumb, McPherson indicated for Cunningham to increase the rheostat to its maximum setting. This time, as the dial reached 1,500 volts, a line of dim violet light began to glow on the surface of the silvery module near its mid-point.

  Letting out a whoop, Walter Cunningham jumped for joy. The grin on Jerome McPherson's face literally couldn't get any bigger. Both men turned to look at each other and then swooped together in a bear hug, jumping up and down and shouting with glee. Suddenly, Dr. John Heinbaum shoved his way between them, his close set eyes threatening to bulge right out of his head. Hastily grabbing a magnifying glass, he peered at the line of violet light, noting that it neatly wrapped itself around the equator of the cylinder.

  Turning to stare at McPherson, Heinbaum's close set eyes narrowed as he said in a low, petulant voice, "You clever bastard!"

  Returning his stare, his amused look getting even bigger, McPherson waved a finger in front of Heinbaum's face and replied, "Now, Doc, not in front of Walter. We don't want him to get jealous of our close relationship."

  Turning back to the equipment in a huff Heinbaum blurted, "Bah! The comic hyena returns!"

  Then over his shoulder, head moving back and forth as he reviewed the power settings, Heinbaum growled, "Cunningham, advise General Collier I will need access to the Base emergency generator. I need power lines run from it to supply at least 100 kW of electricity. Rig a series of resistors to control the power. Let's see if we can't improve on the Lieutenant's lucky guess."

  ***

  Two days following the McPherson breakthrough, Walter Cunningham bent over the open electrical connection panel of a large power generator reviewing the configuration of the heavy gauge wires running from the panel to a series of resistors lined up across his work bench. Each resistor fed into a circuit connected to a heavy duty rheostat sporting a dial much larger than the one used in McPherson's earlier setup. Ticks on the dial setting now showed gradients from 1,000 to 100,000 volts in 500 volt increments. Dr. Heinbaum had ordered heavier gauge wiring for the horseshoe shapes and had tripled the number of wire wraps around each of the soft iron rods. With the larger generator, each tick on the dial of the rheostat would increase the voltage flowing into the electromagnets with a corresponding increase in the strength of the magnetic force flowing through the silvery porcelain module.

  Heinbaum watched his assistant hunched over the equipment with growing impatience. He knew the resistor setup was cumbersome and hastily built, but he needed a quick breakthrough to the power module puzzle, and he was pushing for faster results. Overly cautious safety measures were impeding progress. It was galling enough that General Collier had ordered him to work with McPherson, but the maddening thing was the red headed oaf was uncannily perceptive about the design of the alien tech. John Heinbaum had never felt inferior to anyone, but the successes of McPherson were threatening his self-esteem and that was something Heinbaum would not permit.

  Clapping his hands together sharply, Heinbaum said loudly, "Cunningham, would you stop fidgeting over those connections! My goodness, man, we're not testing an atomic bomb!"

  Walter Cunningham, staring at the wiring harness one last time, closed his eyes and minutely shook his head at the sound of Heinbaum's voice. Straightening up as much as his curved back would allow, he turned his head towards Heinbaum and replied, "Doc, you can't be sure that we're not dealing with an atomic bomb."

  Only slightly sobered by the potential truth of what Cunningham said, Heinbaum hesitated a fraction of a second before he curtly growled, "Don't be such a nervous Nellie, Cunningham. I'm sure we have perfect control of our experiment. Now close that panel, and power up the generator."

  "Well aren't we just full of bluster today, Doc," the irritating Scottish voice of Lt. Jerome McPherson declared. "If I didn't know better, I'd guess we were getting ready to open a flashlight and change its batteries."

  Part of the reason Heinbaum had been rushing was to begin the experiment before McPherson returned to the lab from his daily jog. The damned Scot was always underfoot, running his big mouth, littering the lab with bits of gun cleaning cloths, leaving his sweat drenched exercise clothes in dirty heaps. The list of horrors went on and on.

  Heinbaum's nose twitched at a familiar odor, and he realized the cloying smell of gun oil was beginning to permeate the whole lab. Turning to McPherson and crossing his arms, close set eyes narrowed in disgust, Heinbaum snapped, "If you're so scared of the procedure, then leave my lab at once. I don't expect an oaf like you to understand the intricacies of my genius. Begone!"

  Instead of leaving, McPherson pulled a chair around backwards, sat down in it, rested his chin on the chair back and grinned widely at Heinbaum.

  Infuriated, Heinbaum turned quickly, pressing his lips together in a grimace and savagely motioned for Cunningham to start the generator.

  Sighing to himself, Walter closed the panel and flicked the switch to the 'on' position. The machine vibrated slightly on its rubber foot cushions as it whirled up to speed, quickly running smoothly with an even, low hum.

  Standing near the pedestal clamp holding the power module, Heinbaum glanced over at Cunningham and said, "Adjust power to 1,500 volts. That's the setting where the visible reaction began."

  As Walter turned the rheostat to the 1,500 volt setting, the line of dim violet light began to glow at the mid-point of the silver power module. McPherson got out of his chair and walked over to stand between Cunningham and Heinbaum as Heinbaum adjusted a large magnifying glass mounted on a swivel attached to the work bench to a fixed position over the glowing violet line. Enlarged by the magnifier, the violet line appeared to be a dashed line rather than a continuous line.

  Per agreed protocol, Heinbaum motioned with a raised thumb, and Cunningham turned the rheostat dial, raising the voltage to 10,000. As the voltage increased, the violet line dashes lengthened until at the 10,000 volt mark, the line appeared continuous under the magnifier. Emboldened by the change, Heinbaum again motioned with his thumb and Cunningham increased the voltage to 20,000. The violet line became more distinct, its edges sharpening.

  Looking up at Cunningham, Heinbaum pushed his glasses back up his nose and said, "Increase power to 50,000 volts."

  "Doctor," came the measured reply from Cunningham. "Agreed protocol was no more than 10,000 volts increase at a time. We have no idea what we're dealing with."

  "Bah!" Heinbaum shouted back. "I'm in charge here! You will obey my instructions, or I will find someone who will!"

  "Sir," Cunningham replied calmly. "I'm just pointing out the dangers of moving too fast into unknown territory! Please sir!"

  "Doc, Walter has a good . . " began McPherson.

  But Heinbaum refused to listen. Reaching across in front of McPherson, he sharply twisted the rheostat dial from 20,000 to 50,000 volts.

  Instantly, all t
he men heard a loud metallic snap. Looking down as one, they all realized the magnifying lens was no longer necessary. The violet line was now sharply defined. The snap had seemed to come from the power module itself. There, in the center of the violet line was a thin dark line. The module had split open along its equator.

  A thin smile appeared on the lips of Dr. John Heinbaum, and his close set eyes narrowed with satisfaction. Looking triumphantly at Cunningham and McPherson, he said in a deprecating tone, "Nervous Nellies."

  McPherson and Cunningham looked at each other with extreme concern written across their faces. John Heinbaum whistled a tuneless ditty as he removed the swivel magnifier.

  ***

  With the magnifier pushed aside, Heinbaum picked up a pair of insulated tongs and lightly touched one end of the module with them. No spark jumped between the module and the tongs, and the audible hum from the generator didn't waiver. Emboldened by the lack of a response to his prodding, Heinbaum ordered Cunningham to reduce the voltage on the rheostat to 40,000 volts.

  Glancing at McPherson and getting an approving nod, Cunningham turned the dial, lowering the voltage. Just as he lowered the setting below 50,000 volts, a sharp click sounded from the power module. McPherson and Cunningham had been watching the rheostat so they didn't see what happened, but Heinbaum had been closely watching the violet line at the moment the voltage was reduced. The thin dark line bisecting the module along its equator had disappeared with a click as the voltage was reduced.

  "Aha!" exclaimed Heinbaum, banging the flat of his hand down on the work bench.

  Glancing at McPherson with a smug look on his face, Heinbaum began fiddling with the clamp holding the electromagnet on the right hand end of the power module. He then cleared a space on the work bench near the base of the clamp.

  Guessing what Heinbaum was planning, McPherson warned, "Doc, you realize that module is basically an insulated can for the storage of lightning bolts, right?"

  Heinbaum, still clearing the work area, replied with great irritation, "Of course. I'm the one who made the calculations!"

  McPherson continued, "We know how to open the gizmo, but we don't know what protections are needed when the module shielding is removed! We're like a monkey peeling something that looks like a banana but really isn't."

  That analogy brought Heinbaum up short. "Damned if he's not right," he thought, but his pride had been sorely hurt by the string of successes McPherson enjoyed, and he was not about to let the opportunity for a success be delayed or diminished.

  Turning on McPherson with all the contempt he could muster, Heinbaum replied, "If you don't have the guts to stay and watch, just run away. Hide in fear you pseudo . . Urk!"

  He never finished the sentence. McPherson had endured enough of the insults from the weasily scientist. Grabbing Heinbaum with tight fisted handfuls of his shirt and lab coat, McPherson picked the man completely off the floor and pulled him bodily to within an inch of his angry, red-flushed face. John Heinbaum had never in his life been physically overpowered by anyone. He was completely speechless, held helpless with his feet dangling 4 inches off the floor, every word coming from McPherson's mouth feeling like a sharp wind against his face.

  "Listen to me, you damned, white coated weasel! You insult me again, and I will beat the ever lovin' snot out of you! And nothing and nobody will keep me away from you! Are we clear?"

  Heinbaum's head nodded quickly, his eyes fairly bulging out of his head, his glasses sliding almost off the end of his greasy, long nose. McPherson released him with a shove, and he fell back against a stool near the work bench. Walter Cunningham had watched all the commotion and decided to keep his eyes down and directed towards the rheostat dial, but he resolved to ask for McPherson's autograph when the next opportunity arose.

  With what dignity he had left, Heinbaum levered himself up to a full standing position and with shaky hands, brushed at his lab coat and pushed his glasses back up his nose. Lifting his chin in a sign of defiance, he quickly turned his head to see if Walter Cunningham was looking at him. Finding Walter busily reviewing the rheostat setting, he turned his gaze on McPherson and with all the haughty bluster he could manage, declared, "You will regret your outburst, Lieutenant. A complaint will be filed with General Collier. A few days in the brig should suffice to knock you off your high horse!"

  McPherson's response was a smile so big it almost split his face. Walking over to a now cowering John Heinbaum, he reached over and gently straightened the collar on Heinbaum's lab coat, put his long, right arm firmly around the man’s narrow shoulders, looked him directly in the eyes and said, "Doc, what in the world are you prattling on about? Why, you and I are the best of friends. Right?"

  With the word, "Right," Heinbaum felt a squeeze to his right shoulder so powerful he imagined McPherson's fingers sunk all the way to his shoulder bone. It was like his shoulder was frozen in place.

  Grimacing in pain, amazed and scared by the power of the grip, Heinbaum looked up at McPherson, recognized the sharp glare in his eyes and grated, "Right. Yes."

  Releasing his grip, McPherson slapped him on the back with a tremendous blow that jarred the poor scientist so much he staggered a step, and declared in a jovial tone, "That's the spirit, Doc! Now let's see what we can do about opening up this little can with an emphasis on safety."

  ***

  The next day a heavy box of inch thick lead approximately 3 feet high and 5 feet wide sat on the work bench with the electromagnets and the pedestal clamp holding the ray pistol power module assembled inside it. The lead box had been used at the Oakridge National Laboratory during work on the atom bomb so it was guaranteed proof against exposure to deadly enriched uranium radiation. It had a lead glass view port specially designed for work with radioactive substances. Two mechanical arms with bellowed sleeves ending in grasping claws were fitted through the shielding to provide a method for manipulation of the power module once the electromagnets did their work. But even with the lead shielding, McPherson couldn't shake a feeling of impending danger. As an added precaution, he had asked Cunningham to attach heavy gauge grounding wires from the box to the laboratory lightning arrestors and had a series of specialized sensors hooked up to measure any changes which might occur inside the container when the power module opened.

  "Feel safe and secure now?" sneered Dr. Heinbaum as he flipped through checklists on the clipboard he held.

  Turning his head slightly, the right corner of his mouth curling down in a slight frown, McPherson said, "I'll feel a lot better once we have real test results instead of your educated guess."

  Ignoring the insult, Heinbaum turned his attention to Walter Cunningham. "Cunningham, aren't you ready yet? No more delays. I'm sick of delays!"

  Walter turned his head toward Heinbaum and McPherson and responded in a resigned voice, "I've double-checked all the connections. I guess we can proceed."

  "About time," was the curt reply.

  The generator whirled up to full power, and the rheostat was turned to the 50,000 volt setting. All the men heard the muffled, metallic snap from inside the lead box. Peering through the lead glass window, they saw the now familiar sharp violet line with the thin dark line splitting the power module at its equator. Heinbaum pushed his arms inside the sleeves of the mechanical arms and grasped a pair of tongs with the right claw. Using the other claw to hold the left hand portion of the power module, he grabbed the right hand end of the module with the tongs and pulled, being careful not to the break contact of the electromagnet with the dimples. Sliding along three short rails arranged triangularly within the module, the right hand end slid outward to reveal a softly glowing capsule.

  All three men were momentarily entranced by the subtle beauty of the glowing capsule. The inside of the capsule appeared to be a whitish fluid with gray accents that roiled around as if something alive moved within. The capsule was held in place by an enclosing metallic mesh, half of which had pulled away when the right hand end of the module slid open.
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br />   Blinking his eyes to break his concentration on the glow, McPherson glanced over at Cunningham and said, "Walter, what kind of readings are you getting?"

  Pulling his gaze away from the viewport, Walter quickly looked at the radiation counters and various gauges they had set up to measure electric potentials and discharges within the lead container. Looking back at McPherson and Heinbaum, he replied, "No known radiation is being emitted. Geiger counter is quiet. No gamma or X-ray. No electrical discharge detected. No increase in heat. In fact, the temp inside the box has lowered by 5 degrees Fahrenheit."

  Heinbaum turned his head towards McPherson, narrowed his close set eyes and declared, "There is no danger, Lieutenant, and I can't do my work from outside this ridiculous lead box. I demand you remove all these impediments to my research at once!"

  Still uneasy but with nothing concrete to justify an objection, McPherson sighed resignedly and replied, "Ok, Doc, but you better be right."

  Looking over at Cunningham, McPherson said, "After the Doc gets the module closed back up, let's unhook everything and remove the shielding."

  Then with a second thought, he added, "Keep all the monitoring equipment. We'll maintain a watch for any changes."

  Two hours later, the lead box was gone and the power module opened back up. Every gauge they had trained on the module told them the area remained safe. Interestingly, the thermometer measuring ambient temperature around the open module indicated only a 2 degree drop instead of the earlier 5 degree drop in temperature. Encouraged by the readings, everyone focused on the glowing capsule.

  "Look at this, Gentlemen," purred Heinbaum. "A capsule only slightly larger than a kidney bean that contains energy sufficient to discharge the power of lightning multiple times without apparent diminution of output power! In other words, a power storage unit of prodigious capacity with no impedance. No resistance whatsoever! And yet, no loss of potential. Amazing!"

  "Yea, Doc, fine," replied McPherson, tired of the verbose scientist. "But what's it made of? Can you duplicate it?"