by S. S. Segran
Marshall answered his phone. “Hey, Josh.”
Aari’s attention turned to the Sentry immediately.
“Really? You sure? Holy—that was fast. No, we’re not too far out. We’ll be right over.” Marshall hung up, tossed his empty cup into a trash can and windmilled his arms at Aari and Tegan. “Come on, you two! We may have a breakthrough on our hands!”
The pair chugged the rest of their slushies, inevitably getting a brief but intense headache, then piled into the car. Marshall took every shortcut through Goleta that he knew and they found themselves back at Josh’s lab building twenty minutes later. Inside, Josh steered them into the same meeting room. The jubilant scientist wore bags under his eyes.
“Sit, sit,” he told them breathlessly. As they took their respective chairs, he added, “I think I’ve found the Achilles’ heel we’re searching for. We know the nanomites’ molecular structure is quite similar to that of silicon, but it is a very distinct material. Still, I believe the process that was used to create the nanomites is not terribly different from the process for creating silicon chips, which is one of the things we do in this facility.
“You may have noticed that the suits we use in our cleanrooms leave little to no skin exposed. That’s to reduce the chances of contamination in the semi-conducting wafers. But sometimes, during production, tiny amounts of certain contaminants—we call them dopants—are intentionally introduced into the process. For example, a little bit of boron can give the silicon certain electrical properties, or a bit of phosphorous can make it act differently. I’ve been trying to figure out if we can take the same approach with the nanomites. In other words, to see if we can contaminate them by introducing a dopant into their matrix to render them harmless.” He paused for effect.
Marshall idly rubbed his tattoo. “What did you find?”
“Some good news and some bad news. First, let’s get the bad news out of the way. There is no known or readily available element that will fit into the matrix of the nanomite structure. So we can’t simply run out to a store or a lab somewhere and purchase a bagful of dopants.” He paused again, then said, “But—and here’s the potential good news—such an element might be available in a most unlikely place. It’s a long shot, but it may be the only chance we have.”
Tegan rested her forearms on the table and leaned toward the scientist. “Which would be . . . ?”
Josh sat on a chair facing the three of them. “Back in the spring of ’88, I met a brilliant scientist at a material science symposium in Reno. It was an interesting time because we knew the Cold War was coming to an end, and the Soviet Union was on the verge of collapse. Anyway, the scientist I met, Dr. Branson, worked for the government during and after the Second World War. He was in his early eighties but, boy, was he sharp as a tack.
“He was interested in the work I was doing at the time and we kept up a friendship that lasted until he passed away four years later. Before he did, he called me and asked to meet him. He was living in Arizona at the time and I flew out to see him the next morning. What he told me that day seemed far-fetched and I foolishly dismissed it as maybe the ramblings of a dying man.”
The light in Josh’s eyes faded, as if he were reliving the moment. Tegan quietly prompted him on. “What did he say?”
“He said . . . he said that he had been involved in a project to create an element that didn’t exist in nature. Of course, that in itself isn’t unique. If you remember your high school science, several of the so-called trans-uranium elements such as neptunium and lawrencium were created in labs. But the purpose of creating this element was what blew me away. See, back in the day, with the end of World War Two, the expedient relationship between the Allies and the Soviet Union began to fall apart. The Cold War followed.
“According to Dr. Branson, a group of German scientists working on a secret semi-conductor project was abducted by the Russians. The project they were working on would have given the Soviets a very significant advantage over the U.S. in accuracy for their ballistic missiles. Dr. Branson and his team were asked by the Department of Defense, which back then was known as the Department of War, to come up with a means to counter that.
“This team quickly set out to find a solution and, building on some work that was done earlier in that field by scientists at Bell Labs, created an element that could act as a dopant to all forms of semi-conductors or semi-conductor-like material. Only five kilograms of the material was ever produced but it proved to be successful in a range of initial tests.”
“Seriously?” Aari exclaimed, throwing up his arms in jubilance.
“Where do we find it?” Marshall asked.
Joshua pinched his lips together. “That’s where the challenge comes in. During its final test, which was intended to assess its atmospheric reliability, the element was placed in a canister aboard a specially modified B-29. Unfortunately, on the final leg of the test flight, the aircraft crashed into Lake Mead. That was in the summer of 1948.”
Tegan slapped her hands over her face, groaning. Aari was as devastated as she was, and by the looks of it, so was Marshall.
The Sentry, pressing his fingers against his forehead, asked, “Why did Dr. Branson tell you all this, Josh?”
“Because he was extremely passionate about the discovery he made,” Josh answered. “He was totally crestfallen when the government pulled the plug on the project after failing to recover the canister from the bottom of the lake. The agency responsible had since moved on to other projects that met their objective. Dr. Branson wanted to pass the torch of his invention to me, hoping that, with my background in this field, I would find some revolutionary application for it today. I regret not pursuing it. I regret having dropped his torch.”
Marshall patted the older man’s arm. “There’s a time and place for everything. Maybe this element remaining lost was not an accident. It could still prove its usefulness now.”
“Wait a minute,” Tegan said, drawing her hand back through her hair. “How is this material supposed to help us if it’s been at the bottom of a lake all these years? The water would have destroyed it, even if it was in a canister.”
“Maybe not,” Josh replied. “Dr. Branson told me that the canister was specially designed and made of stainless steel, and all three feet of it was double-shelled.”
Tegan rested her cheek against her shoulder and scrutinized the scientist. “Are you saying this thing may still be in that wreckage?”
“I believe it to be.”
“The government didn’t search for it?”
“They did, but they never found the plane. It wasn’t until about a decade ago, when a private dive team using side-scan sonar found the wreckage in the northern arm of the lake. Because it lies inside a national recreation area, the divers couldn’t really do much. The national park services were the ones who had to take on the responsibility for the site.”
“Wait, they found it?” Aari asked. “Wouldn’t the government have tried to retrieve it?”
“It’s been over sixty years since they terminated the project. The government probably no longer considers it of any value since the world has changed so much in that field of science. The wreck site was closed off to public access to preserve the plane’s remaining integrity. And so, like a lot of other government projects that fall out of favor, this is likely locked away in the bowels of bureaucracy. Whoever was in charge of this whole thing back then is long gone.”
Aari blew out a long breath. “If it’s still in that wreckage at the bottom of the lake, how do we get to it?”
“Very carefully, I’d say,” Tegan mused, “seeing that it’s closed to the public.”
Aari gently thumped her arm, then looked at Josh. “What do we do if we find it?”
“If you retrieve it, bring it directly to me,” the scientist said, energy easing back into him at the prospect of holding his old friend’s work after all these years. “I’ll have to test it and design a delivery mechanism so it can be deployed.�
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Tegan clapped once. “Where would we deploy it?”
“That,” Marshall said, “is where Jag and the others come in.”
49
Jag parked the pickup on the side of a road at a point he presumed to be the center of Ransom, Kansas. Though he knew from additional research that the town was small, it seemed even more so in reality. There were supposedly three hundred residents living in a hundred-and-thirty homes but it was hard to credit even that modest figure from what could be seen in their immediate vicinity. He, Kody and Mariah walked swiftly up and down the streets searching for any site that could possibly house the nanomites.
The town was quiet with only a few homes still showing lights. Mariah jogged ahead of the guys, scanning each house.
Jag looked at his phone. “Nearly midnight,” he told the others.
“Man, it’s really quiet here,” Kody said as they passed a tired-looking brick building, the town’s hospital.
“Well, yeah. Small town, plus it’s a work day tomorrow. I don’t think people usually walk around this late at night here, but try to stay out of sight anyway.”
Mariah returned within a few minutes. “I’m not seeing anything that could be a potential base. It’s mostly residential.”
“Let’s check out the other streets, then,” Jag suggested. “Kody, you scanning?”
“I am, but I’m not picking up anything except snoring or television chatter,” Kody said, “and I don’t see anything in the sky.”
“Keep trying.”
They roamed the town, genuinely amazed at how tiny it was—Jag estimated that it only covered seven square blocks—and noticed that most of the streets proudly bore names of states: Kansas, Delaware, Kentucky and Rhode Island.
We should be able to pin down the nanomites’ base here, Jag thought.
“Duck!” Kody hissed. “Someone’s looking out their window!”
Jag dove behind a bush, Mariah doing the same a few yards away. They remained hidden until they heard Kody signal they were clear to prowl the streets again. Jag checked the time once more and saw that it was a few minutes into the new day. He tilted his head back to look up at the sky, worried. I hope we didn’t miss them leaving . . .
There was a short whistle from Kody, who stood at an intersection a block away. Jag and Mariah loped over. He pointed into the distance. “Right there,” he said, voice soft. “The whole swarm. I can only just see it. It’s heading away from us.”
“Where did they take off from?” Jag asked, straining to get a sight of the nanomites.
“I’m not sure. I was just scanning the sky and I saw them already in flight. It looks like they may have come somewhere from the east. Or it might have been south.”
“Shoot,” Mariah spat. “Do you still see it?”
“It’s kind of floating in and out of my—ah, nope. There it goes. Lost it.”
“That’s fine,” Jag said. “They’ll return.”
Kody scowled. “Hopefully. What now?”
“Let’s think. The crop failure began not too long ago. If these nanomites are being launched from locations all across the country, they would need secure bases, places where no one can find them. Why would they use a small town with mostly residential buildings? No family in their right mind would willingly let their home be used.”
“It would be easier to just rent or buy a house and set up the base there,” Mariah said.
Jag snapped around. “Yes! Exactly! Come on, we need to call Aari!” He turned and ran through the town to his grandfather’s pickup, not waiting for the others to get inside before dialing Aari’s number.
Aari’s voice came on the other end. “Jag, I was just about to call! Are Mariah and Kody with you?”
“Yeah,” Jag answered as his friends climbed into the truck. “You’re on speaker, by the way. We can all hear you.”
“Great. So this is a long story but the short version is that we think there may be a way to stop the nanomites.”
The pickup truck resonated with cheers before Mariah shushed the boys and looked out the window to make sure no one had heard them.
“One small detail about the material we’ll need to stop them, though. It’s inside an old airplane. And the plane’s at the bottom of a lake. In Nevada.”
There was dead silence after that, then Kody shrugged and said, “Honestly, I think we’ve dealt with worse.”
“That’s true,” Jag agreed. “What’s the plan?”
“Marshall, Tegan and I will drive to Nevada to get the anti-nanomite. We’ve already picked up the diving gear. I’m actually really excited about it.”
“I’ll bet you are. You can finally put that diver certification of yours to good use.”
There was a smile in Aari’s voice as he spoke. “Yeah. Marshall’s an expert diver, apparently. He hasn’t gotten his gear yet, though. Dunno why. Anyway, what’s up with you guys?”
“We’re at the place where the nanomites are being deployed from,” Mariah said. “It’s a small town.”
“Is that confirmed?”
“Yeah, Kody saw them leave. The problem is, we don’t know which house is being used as their base.”
“You sure they’re launched from a house?”
“It’s all they have here, except for a few farms at the edge of the town. And a hospital.”
“Alright. How can I help?”
Jag flicked his fingers on his armrest. “We need you to check the realtor sites for Ransom—that’s the name of the town. See if you can find any houses that were sold or listed for rent within the last six months. Maybe twelve months, but I doubt it.”
“The house wouldn’t be rented,” Aari said. “It would make more sense to buy it. Whoever’s setting off the nanomites might’ve done some modifications to the interior of the house to use it as a base. They wouldn’t want a landlord showing up to check on them, and they would have wanted to put in some heavy-duty security systems as well. I think we can safely rule out renting.”
“Good point. Think you can find what we need?”
“Sure thing. I’ll get back to you in a bit.”
The call ended and Jag put his phone in the cup holder. “We’ll just wait, I guess,” he said.
They passed the time by mulling over the notion that the others might have found a way to bring an end to the nanomites’ reign of devastation. As elated as Jag was, he wished they’d made the discovery earlier; his grandmother was in the hospital as a result of the shock from the Sanchez farm losing its crops. Though he never told the others, when he’d first received the news that she’d been hospitalized, he felt as if a stake had been plunged into his chest.
As children, Jag and his siblings were often at the farm during the summers when their parents’ work would take them away for weeks at a time. He had many fond memories there. His grandfather showed the siblings the ropes behind running the farm, and his grandmother would bake and sing for them. One incident that Jag would always keep in his heart took place when he was six years old.
A fierce storm had been brewing outside during the night. While the entire household slept through the tempest, Jag remained awake, frightened by the roar of the wind, the claps of deafening thunder and the groaning of tree branches just outside his window. At one point, the thunder was so loud it sounded as if it was right over the ranch. Jag had let out a terrified cry and, in his haste to run to his grandparents’ room, got his legs tangled in the covers and fell.
His grandmother was by his side in what felt like an instant, lovingly helping him up and guiding him to the kitchen. She poured him a glass of warm milk and made him sit on her lap by the large living room window to watch the storm. He was frightened at first, but then she began singing a quiet lullaby. Her soothing voice eventually eased his mind and he fell asleep to the sights and sound of that howling night. Since then, not only had he ceased to be afraid of storms, but the trepidation he’d felt transformed into a sense of wonder for nature’s powerful forces.
/> Jag was jarred out of his memory by his phone ringing. Scooping it up, he answered the call. “Got anything?” he asked.
“Yes,” Aari said. “There are two houses that were sold in the last few months.”
“Where are they?” Mariah asked.
When Aari gave them the address to both homes, Jag’s hopes fell. “No, that’s not it. I remember walking by those roads. They’re in the north end of town. Kody said he was sure the nanomites came from the southeast.”
“I’m not seeing any sales from there. Nothing rented, either.”
“Check again.”
“I did, and I’ve checked other realtor websites. There’s nothing except for the two houses I mentioned.”
Jag was tempted to hurl his phone out of the car. “Could it have been a private sale, then?”
“It’s possible, but that means it won’t be listed online. We won’t know.”
“There has to be a way, Aari.”
Aari sighed loudly on the other end of the line. “I don’t know, man.” The sound of typing came from the phone’s speakers. “Actually, hold on. I can check the town’s utility company’s database to see if there’s been any changes in account ownership for billing.”
Kody’s eyes narrowed. “They’d put a record like that online for anyone to see?”
“Eh, not exactly, but given the situation we’re in . . . Leave me to it. I’ll call again if I find anything. Might take a while.”
Jag put the phone back into the cup holder after hanging up. “I have a funny feeling El Hacker is at it again. First that recalled video game last year, now this. Hope he doesn’t get into trouble.”
Mariah grinned mischievously. “He must have picked up more tricks with all that free time he had while we weren’t hanging out.”
It was nearly three-thirty in the morning when Aari rang them back. “I may have found what you’re looking for. It’s in the southeast quadrant, too. Turns out there were three homes sold, not two. There was a change of utility accounts but nothing for that location on any realtor database. It must have been a private sale just like you said, Jag.” He recited the address and Mariah wrote it down on a small piece of paper.
