AN UNIMAGINABLE DISCOVERY

by Robert Graf

  And she would, of that Ann had no doubt. "What can I do for you? Oh, would you like a cup of coffee?"

  Winslow shook her head and remained standing. "No thanks, any more and my kidneys will mutiny. I don't have any new information about your husband's kidnappers. I'm here to gain an understanding of your machine's, how shall I put it, incredible abilities. To start with, can you give me an example?"

  Uh oh. Trust her? As if there was any choice. "Didn't Dr. Toffler give you any?"

  Winslow eyed her with that inscrutable mask. "Right. The one he shared was your conviction the Jupiter ship's accident wasn't, that in fact it was sabotage, and the EntCom had detected that. I find that to be beyond belief. Can you explain?"

  "The EntCom's unimaginable ability is akin to a spell-checker, except it's a fact-checker. If a sufficiently explicit statement concerning an event in the past relative to the entanglement date is false, the transmission fails. In his example, a routine technical description from the Pratt Whitney people about the engine failure tripped the error logic. We narrowed the tripping point to a statement that stated a part had been tested and proven acceptable; in fact the part that failed."

  She paused and sipped her now tepid coffee. "I had a confrontation with Pratt Whitney’s head engineer. She was convinced I was full of it. I had another with her CEO. They backed down, and I don't know what's happened since. But I warned them that the rescue ship had the same potential issue."

  "I wasn't completely forthcoming,” Winslow said. “The Pratt Whitney people have confirmed it was sabotage, and the rescue ship had the same problem. They changed the part and had no further problems. That's another investigation being handled by the Houston office. By the way, that's not for public discussion."

  "Does that mean a third group after me?" That sounded paranoid, but Ann couldn’t help it.

  Winslow shook her head. "No. The sabotage was planned and executed months before you discovered fact-checking. I'll pass on any information I'm allowed as I receive it." She smiled faintly. "The Houston office thinks you're some kind of witch, but I assured them you were normal, for a scientist."

  A witch? If they only knew. Winslow's smile seemed out of character; maybe she's human after all. "I read an article in the paper about the rescue. It's the only good news I've had for weeks."

  "Indeed. How does your machine do its magic?"

  "I have no idea, and you don't know how frustrating that is. You called it magic, well that's as good an answer as I've been able to come up with, though I hate the word."

  Winslow's gaze fixed on her. "None? You developed the theory, built the prototype and oversaw the production version, and you don't know how it works?"

  Ann had visions of red-hot pokers, the rack, fingernails being torn out. She shivered. "I could tell you it's experimental confirmation of the Feynman's path-integral formulation proving the existence of the universal wave function. That explains nothing. I repeat, I haven't the vaguest idea."

  "I hear your words but understand nothing. Do you plan on pursuing the phenomenon?"

  "Absolutely. I first need to heal." Her turn. "Do you have any leads on the letter bomb?"

  Winslow’s lips thinned in exasperation. "Not yet. Our forensic folk are analyzing the fragments we recovered as well as those removed at the hospital, and I expect a report within the week. As for the lab, we extracted an image of the driver's face from the camera's data and are running it by our facial recognition database. It's a long shot, yet we might get lucky."

  "What about Farid, my engineer? I fear for his safety.” If he was with Jon, he’s probably dead, yet she couldn’t say it.

  “We've developed a lead on how he was snatched. You have no corner on the frustration market. Back to your machine. You said 'a sufficiently explicit statement' was required for the fact checking to operate?"

  Didn't miss much. "Yes. I’ve made a little progress in teasing out the grammar that’s required to arrive at an unambiguous result. I left a summary with NASA, but it's very preliminary." Dare she ask? "Do you intend to use NASA's EntCom for your investigations? Because if you do, remember that the entanglement date is an absolute cutoff."

  Winslow didn't react. "I couldn't comment. Anyway that's a decision way above my pay grade. You've been a great help, and I wish you a speedy recovery. I'll be in touch."

  Ann bet the temptation would prove too great. How would they interface with NASA? She could imagine the turf battles with the Jupiter ship caught in the middle. She sympathized with Toffler. And her? Publicity was her only real protection but how to get it? What's that website that promotes wacko conspiracy theories? Years ago there was the Drudge something-or-other, whatever happened to it?

  A search for Drudge yielded tens of thousands of links to archival sites. One caught her eye: Notorious website Sold. She followed the link and discovered it had been renamed NothingButTruth. That led her to its Web page: A banner headline over three columns of links. So, it's a news aggregation portal. What's its reputation?

  A search on NothingButTruth produced millions of hits. She selected the Wikipedia link. Interesting, besides a reputation for recklessness, it was respected, publishing hot stories before the major media got into the game. Even though many headlines proved wrong, it remained popular. Now, how to get their attention? On the bottom of the page: Contact Us.

  Should she talk it over with Alex? Yes, she'd made enough mistakes; in the meantime she'd rough out a draft. She began listing the items she wanted to include until interrupted by the security people.

  "Dr. Grey? We need to secure that window and the door to your garage," Helen said, from the archway to the living room.

  "What's been done so far?"

  "We've finished the bedrooms, bathrooms and living room. As soon as this window and door are done, we'll connect everything, set up the backup power and run tests. Should be done in another hour or so."

  "OK." She picked up her tablet and phone, stepped into the living room and sat at the scarred coffee table. Thankfully the couch was unharmed, one less expense to worry about.

  Her phone chirped, and Ian’s smiling image appeared. “I've good news. Farid called a bit ago; he escaped and is in London."

  Relief swept through her, leaving her breathless. London? "That's absolutely wonderful. And he's alright?"

  "He sounded tired. You can call him at his brother's in Cairo in a few days."

  "I'm so glad." She felt tears coming, and wiped them with the back of her hand. "I took your advice and contacted Behrendt; their security people are here wiring the house. I haven't decided on the guards yet."

  "Excellent, they’re first rate. Don't wait, you're still at risk. Have to run."

  Farid's safe, and Jon's dead. Alex and I are recovering from a bomb blast, and Hooper’s recovering from a gunshot. Doug, Ricardo, and Craig are dead. The lab is destroyed, and the prototype is stolen. Anything else? Oh, the Jupiter ship was sabotaged and one crewman killed, but it’s returning.

  Her mind made up, she placed the call.

  "O'Connor here."

  "This is Ann Grey. I've decided to go with the guard in front and the plain clothes bodyguards. Also for the next few weeks my friend will be staying here, so I want the contract to cover him."

  "Very good. I was hoping you'd decide in our favor. I'll have a contract drawn up and bring it around in a day or so. I'll need your friend's particulars; for now I just need his name."

  "Alex Baxter."

  "Are you going anywhere today?"

  "Yes. I have to pick him up from the hospital this afternoon."

  Brief silence. "I'll have the front guard in place within the hour and two bodyguards on alert for this afternoon. We'll need a schedule of your activities as best you can define them for the next several days. We require a $10,000 deposit secured by your credit card. The other details we can settle when I bring the contract. One other thing, here's the guard's phone code. It's good day or night. Make sure you contact the guards whenever you
expect company, otherwise your guest is in for a rude surprise."

  She wrote the code down on the back of an envelope and gave him her credit card data. Despite her brave words to Alex, the security could eat up the insurance money and the stock options. But what choice did she have?

  For another hour she struggled with the eulogy. Try as she might she couldn't place herself in the actress mode. It was too personal.

  "Dr. Grey? We've finished. We need to show you how to arm the system and a couple other goodies."

  Helen pointed to a small box with two rows of buttons and a tiny screen mounted on the wall beside the front door. "This controls the system. There's an identical one by the door to the garage, the back door just has a deadbolt. There are no outside controls, they're too exposed. Note the deadbolt in the door."

  Tim took over. "To arm the system, you press this green button as you exit the house. Close the door and lock the deadbolt. You have 30 seconds before the system automatically alerts us and the police. When entering, you unlock the deadbolt, open the door and enter your security code. Again you have 30 seconds."

  Tim handed her the deadbolt key and two copies. "Extras. I recommend you place one outside in an unobtrusive spot, not under the doormat. Place it where you can find it in the dark in a driving rain with a blinding headache and no electricity."

  Ann grinned. "Is that from experience?"

  The woman didn’t smile. "Yes. The intruder system is composed of two separate circuits; one for the doors and one for the windows. If an intruder breaks the glass or cuts a hole, that breaks the circuit, and we're alerted."

  Ann squinted at the window. "I don’t see anything.”

  "It’s pretty cool stuff, invisible in normal light." She handed Ann a Flash drive. "The last goody. If you'd look up at the corner of your ceiling and wall," she said, pointing up, "you'll see a webcam. There's another in the kitchen and garage, one each for the back yard and front, but none in the bedrooms or bathrooms. Unless you want them...?"

  Ann studied the tiny wedge-shaped device hiding in the corner. "I don't think that's necessary." She held out the Flash drive. "And this is...?"

  "An app to access the webcams. I must caution you we have an override for the cameras if we consider you're in danger or we perceive an emergency situation."

  "What about the police?"

  "No, they have no access to them. We take our clients' privacy very seriously and have a zero-tolerance policy about breaching that trust."

  "You mentioned a backup?"

  "Right. If the power fails there's a battery backup in that closet good for 48 hours." She pointed to the utility closet by the kitchen. "It's automatically kept fully charged."

  Ann was impressed and discouraged. It's come to this, she despaired. This is no way to live. "Is that it?"

  "Yes, Ma'am. You'll get a bill for the installation. Oh, the uniformed guard should arrive shortly. He or she will be driving a white van. Have a good day." With that they left, closing the door.

  Ann held up the Flash drive as if she could read it. “Let’s try you out."

  She inserted the drive into her tablet. In a few seconds an Install screen popped up, and she executed the program. In a blink, five windows covered the display. Each was the view from a wide angle lens that distorted the image. Even so, the pictures were clear and images recognizable.

  She clicked on the front view, and the image expanded to cover the whole screen. To her surprise she saw a non-descript white van parked in front. She could see a figure inside but couldn't tell if it was male or female. Must be the guard. Might as well introduce herself.

  As Ann neared the van, the side door slid open and a young, dark-haired woman stepped out. She wore an immaculate uniform of blue pants and jacket and white shirt that didn't entirely disguise the protective vest underneath. A holstered semi-automatic pistol, baton, and pepper spray hung from a black leather belt; a small microphone peeked from her collar.

  The guard held out her hand, and Ann shook it. "Dr. Grey, I'm Collette Ryder, one of the guards that will be working the front." She smiled ruefully. "I was just on my way to your front door."

  "How long are you on duty?"

  "Four hours on, eight off; there are three of us."

  "You must get bored, and what about bathroom breaks?"

  Collette grinned. "Not really, as for a bathroom, there's a tiny port-a-potty if necessary."

  Ann grimaced. "Sounds primitive."

  "With modern technology you'd be surprised. Is there anything you require?"

  "No, I just wanted to meet you." She peered into the van noting several flat screens and other equipment, including a shotgun. "I'll see you later," she said and returned to the house.

  An hour later her plainclothes bodyguard showed up, escorted by Collette.

  She introduced herself as Ellen Kreisel and insisted that Ann examine her ID. Ann studied her, noting the non-descript pants and shirt and plain shoulder bag. The picture matched: a middle-aged, brown-haired, average looking housewife or teacher, hardly a gun-toting, martial-artist bodyguard.

  Ellen smiled. "I know what you're thinking, and that's exactly what's intended. Believe me, Behrendt only hires qualified professionals."

  Ann flushed. "I'm sorry, you're not what I expected."

  "Quite all right. What time do you want to leave?"

  "They'll call, maybe in an hour or so. You can wait in the living room."

  "Fine, I'll be ready."

  Her phone chirped, dragging her out of another futile draft of the eulogy.

  Alex’s tired face appeared. "Ready to pick me up?"

  No bandage! “I don't pick up strange men," she quipped.

  "Make an exception."

  "Be right there, say ten minutes?"

  "Fine. Don't forget my bag."

  She had forgotten. "Don't go anywhere." Bag in hand she found Ellen, sitting on the couch studying her tablet. "Alex called. I'm heading to the hospital to pick him up."

  Ellen pulled a phone from her pocket. "Right, please wait one." She punched in a number. "This is Ellen. I'm taking primary to the hospital, have Jerry meet us there." She listened, "Good."

  "We're off,” she told Ann. “Make sure you arm the system."

  They stopped at the door to the garage. Ann pressed the green button and the display changed to “ON”. Ellen cleared the door, and Ann closed it. She fumbled in her purse for the key as the seconds ticked by. At last she had it and locked the deadbolt.

  Ellen watched her. "You'll get used to it. Always have everything ready when entering and exiting. Don't fumble around or hesitate. That’s when you're most vulnerable."

  Wonderful. She pressed the switch opening the garage door and opened the driver-side door.

  Ellen grabbed the door handle. "I'll drive."

  "I'm perfectly capable of driving," Ann countered, getting annoyed.

  "Dr. Grey, you hired Behrendt to provide personal security. We are trained in evasive driving techniques. Many kidnappings and assassinations occur in automobiles. We wouldn't want that to happen, now would we?" She smiled.

  Ann blushed. "Sorry, I'm not used to this."

  "Understood, now shall we?"

  "The remote is on the visor."

  "Thanks," Ellen replied and backed out. "Just direct me to the hospital."

  Ellen Followed Ann's directions, and in minutes they were at the last stoplight before the hospital driveway. Ann glanced in her side-view mirror, idly watching the traffic, and noticed an older blue Honda two cars back. Her heart jumped to her throat. Was that the car at the lab? She strained to make out the driver, but reflections from the windshield obscured everything but a dark mustache It’s him! The passenger was just a dark form behind the reflections.

  The light changed, and she had to twist her body to keep the car in sight as Ellen turned into the parking lot. "See any empty spots?" Ellen asked, scanning the rows of parked cars.

  Ann didn't answer, concentrating on following the Hon
da as it crossed the intersection. Her hands shook, and she gripped the door handle hard enough to make the cuts on her hands hurt. She pressed the window control and stuck her head out; the Honda had disappeared.

  "Dr. Grey, is something wrong?"

  Ann leaned back into the car. "It's him," she stammered, her pulse hammering. "The guy at the lab."

  Ellen’s gaze sharpened. First we'll park." She pulled into an empty space in the far corner near the street. "Explain what you meant. Is there a threat?" she asked, scanning the parked cars.

  "You know about the lab?"

  "Yes. Is this related?"

  "I think I saw the same car and driver that I told the FBI about, the one caught on the surveillance camera."

  "Is that car still here?"

  "No, it was behind us and drove through the intersection."

  "Do you have a contact at the FBI?"

  "Yes."

  "Call him, now." Ellen yanked her phone out and punched in a code. "Ellen. We have a situation."

  Ann pulled her phone from her purse and tapped Winslow's code. A click and, "Winslow." No visual.

  "This is Ann Grey, I just saw the driver from the lab."

  Winslow’s frowning face appeared. “The Honda driver?"

  "Yes, I'm pretty sure it's the same car. He had a passenger."

  "Where are you?"

  "Valley Hospital."

  "Can you see him?"

  "No, they drove off."

  "I'm alerting the police. Wait for me in the lobby; I'll be there in five minutes.”

  "She's calling the cops and said to wait in the lobby," Ann told Ellen.

  "Right. Let's go."

  Ann hurried to the lobby entrance; Ellen at her back, continually scanning the parking lot. In the high-ceiling lobby a non-descript, thirtyish, casually-dressed man greeted them.

  "Dr. Grey, I'm Jerry Durran, Mr. Baxter's escort." He focused on Ellen. "What's up?"

  "She spotted a suspect from the lab bombing in a car behind us. He's gone now. The FBI will be here in a few minutes, and the police are alerted."

  Ann glanced at the patients and visitors and staff, standing and sitting in the lobby —no Alex. Dumb, of course not, and in her hurry she'd forgotten his bag. "I've got to get a bag from the car, be right back," she said, turning towards the door.