Dark Matter

by John Rollason

  This new State of Jerusalem will also serve as both the Capital of the whole country and as the capitals of both of the other states. Key to the success of both the tripartite states and the new country in which they would reside would be the choice of the third member of the tripartite, the one who would provide the security force. We both struggled with the choice. Either every nation we talked about couldn’t provide the right security or there was “bad blood” between that nation and one or both of us.

  Then we discussed the Japanese. The Japanese seemed like a crazy choice to us both but the more we discussed it the less crazy it seemed. No major nation on earth has as low a population of Jews and Muslims as Japan. Its national religion is Shinto. It has no history in our region. Neither of us favoured them nor feared them. They could provide an impartial peacekeeping force and hold the deciding vote in the State of Jerusalem and thereby the deciding vote in the Country. The country would have three official names, one Arabic, one Jewish and the other one Japanese. All other countries would refer to our new country by its Japanese name.

  Neither of us could find any real fault with the plan. Neither of us liked it of course. Nevertheless, it seemed like the only real alternative to a future full of ever more violence. Neither of us wanted that.

  However our plan also calls for three official languages; Arabic, Hebrew and Japanese. All negotiations would be conducted in Japanese and translated into Arabic and Hebrew. This will entail both negotiating teams to learn Japanese. The plan would be for this to be done together, joint classes. This we agreed would lay the foundations for a proper exchange of views and cooperation as both sides sat together, learned together, and talked together. The Japanese would announce when they are happy with the level of language skill and then the negotiations could commence. Conducting the negotiations in a foreign language to the participants also provides one further advantage; anything offence felt by either side could be immediately forgiven as a problem of language not of intent.

  We both feel that this plan, which we are calling the One Country, One Citizen plan, could succeed where others have failed. The one question neither of us can answer yet is how do we get the Japanese to agree?

  11:10 12 December [11:10 12 December GMT]

  Research Laboratory, Cambridge University, Cambridge, England.

  'Hi Jane,' John Deeth said rising to greet her, 'it's so good to see you again.' He kissed her gently on both cheeks, 'you look fabulous, absolutely stunning.' John was in full flirt mode.

  Jane took the compliment and the opportunity to introduce George.

  'John I'd like you to meet my journalistic partner, George.'

  'I'm just a photographer really.' George said, offering his hand to John, slightly embarrassed.

  'So still single?' John inquired; Jane could see the glint in his eye. She decided to play to his vanity.

  'Yes. You know I like them intellectual and slightly mad.'

  'Really.' John said, grinning broadly, 'I wonder if I know someone that fits the bill? Tea, Coffee? Then you can tell me why you've come to see me.'

  John rustled up three coffees from his trusty old kettle and offered the least chipped mug to Jane. It struck him as somewhat odd that they had rebuilt his lab at the cost of who knew how much, but skimped on buying him a new kettle or some better mugs. He guessed that it was down to the University bureaucracy and not the Research Angel, the University only approving the cost of rebuilding the lab and replacing the scientific equipment. I bet the Vice-Chancellor has a new desk out of it though, he thought sourly. Mugs in hand, they ventured outside for a smoke. John insisting one of his Marlboros on Jane, who took it politely.

  'So what's up?' John asked brightly.

  'The price of Gold.' Jane replied. 'We don't know why other than the aliens are digging for it. No one seems to know why. I hoped that you might.' Jane observed John closely and could see the discomfort he suddenly felt.

  He instantly wanted to tell her what he knew, what he had discovered and its possible implications and applications. He wanted to tell her everything. He knew that he could not; the research was his, the university's and the Research Angel's. Nothing short of a court order could change that. He sighed, looked down at the floor, and shuffled his feet.

  'I'm sorry, I'm afraid I can't be much help on that. Gold's valuable, you know, I guess the aliens must know that too. Sorry.' John smiled meekly and shrugged his shoulders.

  Jane took the cue, I'm afraid I can't be much help on that; she repeated his words to herself. That means he can be some help, it also means he could be more helpful but is prevented from doing so.

  'That's OK. I just had to ask. I am a reporter after all so I have to have something for the record.'

  John caught her intonation, that was on the record, now we are off the record.

  'How have you been? What have you been up to?’ Jane asked the apparently innocent questions.

  'Well,' John started, 'to tell you the truth I discovered something odd the other day. I have had this table in my lounge for years, it has a cloth over it, and I'm ashamed that I had never cleaned it. I had just used the table without giving any thought to what type of table it was. I decided to clean the cloth, as you can imagine it was quite filthy. When I removed the cloth, I was astonished to discover that it wasn't a table at all, it was a piano. Imagine, for years I had just thought it was a pretty table with a cloth over it, I never suspected that beneath the cloth it contained a sophisticated, musical instrument capable of producing an almost infinite range of sounds and arrangements. What looked just pretty has turned out to be incredibly useful. I am just learning to play so I can find out just how useful it could be. I can imagine that the first piano changed the world forever.'

  'Does anyone else know of the discovery of the piano?' Jane asked, keenly aware that John was bending over backwards to help her. Bless you John, she thought.

  'Yes, but no one with an appreciation for music or its complex mathematical formula.'

  'I see.' Jane replied, 'You know it’s been great to catch up. I'd love to hear if you discover anything else unusual in your house and I'd like to see your piano sometime.'

  'There's nothing to see really, it’s just like any other grand piano, it’s the same colour as most other pianos and looks pretty similar. But you should hear the music it makes, if you know how to play it.'

  John politely kissed Jane goodbye, again on both cheeks and shook George's hand vigorously. George wandered after Jane, half a step and a whole conversation behind.

  'What was all that babble about his piano?'

  'John wanted to tell me about his research, but in a way that he could deny he had told me anything.' Jane replied, 'I'd almost bet a year's pay that he goes out and buys a piano, second-hand for cash, just to cover himself. He'll probably have to learn to play a bit too.' Jane giggled to herself at that, she judged that John would not find it easy and would get very frustrated.

  'So John doesn't have a piano then?' George was quite in the dark, he didn't know that in the clinic Jane and John had almost spontaneously invented a coded way of communicating so they could talk about the other patients and staff in front of them.

  'No he doesn't. He was telling me about his research. He has found that there is a lot more to Gold than meets the eye. I know that he was in the clinic after his experiment exploded; that means some kind of force is probably involved. His reference to music would imply that it is wave-like in form, but has physical properties. I don't pretend that it all makes perfect sense to me, it doesn't. However, I would trust what he has said. It looks like Gold is the source of some kind of power, and that is why the aliens are after it, and we knew nothing about.'

  'So who do we tell?'

  'Well, we should report back to Jay. Let's keep it at that for the moment, we don't want to start making noise until we have seen one of these dome mines up close. For now, I think we need to understand more about the market for gold. I'm going to call a guy I know in researc
h.'

  'Hi Duncan, its Jane. Yes I'm fine thank you, you? Great, look, quick favour, - who should I talk to about the Gold price and the Gold market? Jack Hamilton. OK but it needs to be someone who can talk candidly, so they can't be currently employed. Still Jack Hamilton. Who is he?' Jane listened as Duncan gave her a brief run-down on Jack's biography. 'Well it certainly sounds like that's the right person. No Duncan, I didn't mean to sound surprised I know you always provide the right information, I was just agreeing with your analysis.' Duncan is great, Jane thought to herself, but he is very touchy about his professional credibility. 'Can you send me his details? Thanks Duncan, take care.'

  'So where to?' George asked innocently, trying to suppress a grin.

  'London, Belgravia.'

  14:20 12 December [14:20 12 December GMT]

  Chester Square, Belgravia, London, England.

  The house was one of those large, Georgian affairs; white stone with gleaming black doors and detailing. The doorbell gave a strong, bellowing ring that reverberated within the confines of the house. Jane was surprised when the door was answered by a woman. Slim, quite short, long blonde hair she was young and fit with stunning good looks. Jane was instantly envious, despite the fact that they were similar in almost every respect except age, and she could do nothing about that. Jane looked again at the number on the door, she had the right place she was sure.

  'Hi, can I help you?' Sally asked politely.

  'Oh, we were looking for Jack Hamilton.' Jane replied, surprising herself that she felt somewhat nervous.

  'Who can I say is calling?' Sally retorted, not impressed that Jane didn’t introduce herself.

  'Oh I'm so sorry. I'm Jane and this is George, we are journalists working for Global Disclosure. We were hoping to interview Mr Hamilton in his capacity as an expert on the Gold market.' Jane had lurched back to being formal, hoping that it would persuade the woman of their honourable intentions.

  'I'm Sally.' She said, thrusting her right hand out in front of them in greeting. 'I'll let Jack know you are here. Please come in.'

  Sally showed them both in to the drawing room, returning with Jack and Anita.

  'Hey George, good to see you.' Jack said as he walked over to embrace his brother.

  'It's really good to see you again too Jack. You’re looking well.' Jack caught the "You’re looking well" comment and realised he had better introduce Sally and Anita.

  'George I'd like you to meet my two research assistants; Sally Brewer and Anita Kumar.'

  'Hi.'

  'Sally, Anita I'd like you to meet my brother George.'

  'Wow!' Anita gushed, 'you never mentioned you had a brother!'

  'Calm down.' Sally whispered.

  'Brother?’ Jane could not prevent the word coming out as a stinging rebuke, as if she had just caught her husband cheating on her with her best friend. George started to chuckle.

  'You didn't tell her?' Jack asked his brother.

  'I couldn't resist the opportunity to see that look on your face.' George explained to Jane. 'You have to admit it is kind of funny, you being this great investigative journalist and all.'

  'Why you....' Jane couldn't finish the sentence, as she realised the absurdity of the situation. ‘OK you got me. I hadn't even thought to ask you if this Jack Hamilton was a relation, even though I know you have a brother. Well...’ Jane paused before going on, 'I guess that just leaves me. Jane Spencer-Brown, I'm a reporter with Global Disclosure.'

  The introductions complete, the two brothers disappeared to make drinks and rustle up some biscuits. As they re-entered the drawing room the conversation between the three women fell silent.

  'You been talking about us?' George asked Jane.

  'You should be so lucky.'

  Jack placed the tray down on the coffee table and offered round the drinks. He sat down in one of the chairs, idly wondering to himself why he didn't spend more time in this room, it’s a room that needs people to come alive. Chocolate biscuit in hand, he was torn between nibbling and dunking. He decided to dunk.

  'So how can I be of help?' Jack asked awkwardly around his biscuit, part dissolving, part melting in his mouth. This was one of his few annoying habits. One of two that really irritated his brother George.

  'We need to know what you know about the Gold market and the Gold price.' George asked.

  'Sure.' Jack replied, not really aware of what he was saying or the way in which he was saying it, 'Just get a First Class International Business Degree, followed by an internship and employment with one of the top dealing firms in the world. Spend years working your way up through the firm until you are in charge of the whole Gold dealing division, proving yourself along the way by making exceptional deals and returns for your company and clients alike.' Then Jack added, somewhat unnecessarily, 'Or at least that's how I did it.'

  That, George thought to himself, is his most annoying habit. Why can't he just answer a question without showing off?

  'We don't have time for that.' Jane had dealt with others like Jack; one's who believe that you can't have knowledge without the experience. That is true, she thought, if you want to practice the knowledge, like carpentry. You can be told exactly what to do, but you still need experience of it to be any good. However if you just want to commission a carpenter, or understand whether a carpenter is the right person for the job, then you just need knowledge of what they do and how they do it. The same should be true of a gold dealer.

  'Sorry.' Jack apologised, 'I don't know why I do that.'

  'That's OK.’ Jane replied, smiling. 'So, the Gold market?'

  'Well,' Jack began, 'I...We have actually been investigating the market going back millennia. I have taken a sabbatical from work to finish my PhD looking at why Gold has any value and why it has been so sought through time.'

  'And what have you found out?' Jane asked, leaning closer.

  'Well it's far from finished, but all the indications we have so far point to very unusual results. We have investigated other precious and useful materials, and all have a strong correlation in price to their uses, particularly their commercial uses. Gold doesn't. The price of Gold has been out of range of its usefulness in eight out of ten of the last centuries. Most of the time it has been way out of range. Like ten to a hundred times its true value.'

  'But,' said Jane, interjecting, ‘wasn’t it used to set currency rates. The gold standard? It's also used for jewellery. Surely those must account for the difference?'

  'We've made allowances for that,’ Jack assured her, 'besides why have people put such faith in Gold? Sure it's the least reactive of the elements, so it'll last a long time, but so too are diamonds and they weigh less.'

  'There's more isn't there?' Jane inquired, her journalistic senses tingling.

  'Yes, there is.' Replied Jack, dropping both the tone and volume of his voice. 'In tracing the price movements of gold we have also traced the trades of gold and as well as its physical movements. This was the most surprising find of all. There have been an increasing number of trades of gold decade by decade, but the corresponding number of physical movements has remained more or less constant, but with a slight upward trend, which relates more to the annual increase in the production of gold, than it does to trades. So we went back further, convinced that this was a post-industrial phenomenon. It wasn't. We went back further still, classifying any change in the legal owner of gold as a trade. The trend not only remained it became more pronounced. That's when we ran an analysis of the history of particular gold deposits. Gold seems to have an almost finite limit on the amount of times it will change physical location. That is totally unlike any other material we compared it with. From being mined, gold on average moves approximately sixteen times then it stops moving. It's twelve in Asia, twenty in Europe and eight in the Americas.'

  ‘OK, so let me see if I have got this straight.’ Jane said. ‘You’re saying that Gold, on average, moves only a fixed number of times and then just sits there. Forever?’

/>   ‘Yes.’

  'Why?' Jane asked, her curiosity rising.

  'We don't know. Yet.'

  14 La Guitarra

  16:44 13 December [22:44 13 December GMT]

  Mexico City International Airport, Mexico City, Mexico.

  The flight having been suitably uneventful was over and they were on final approach. As the in-flight entertainment had been switched off and their drinks removed, Jane and George took the time to go over their plan again. They had decided against approaching the Sunarr with a request to visit one of the camps both to avoid alerting them and because they felt that, the request would be turned down anyway. They had talked to Jayanti before leaving England. They couldn't trust the phone in her office so before they had left George had given her his. George's phone came with the latest encryption software, although he wasn't sure how it might stand-up against the level of technology that the Sunarr might have for cracking it. Hence, the need for Jayanti to have a phone the Sunarr didn't know about.

  During the conversation, Jayanti had revealed that there was still no official recognition of the camps, either from the Sunarr or by any of the governments. As far as the world was concerned, all was normal. Word will get out eventually, it always does, she had added. They realised that they needed to know what was going on before security at the camps was tightened further. The decision not to make a request to enter the camp left them with the dilemma of how to gain access. George suggested that there was a good chance that humans would still be employed at the mines. Certainly, they had not heard of masses of mineworkers being made redundant, so they were probably still there. Humans work for money, and this he suggested would be the way in to the mine. They had chosen one of the Mexican mines because it was felt that it would be amongst the easiest to gain access to as Jane had some good Mexican contacts. The plan was straightforward enough. They would locate the town close to the mine where the mineworkers spend their free time. There they would make discrete inquiries with the aim of finding someone who could get them into the camp, for a fee.