by Shain Carter
After Derek’s speech, George told the group it was time to get to work. “Follow me,” he said, leading them out of the building. “Let me show you to your new offices.”
A faint coolness lingered in the air, but the temperature was clearly on the rise. The sky had cleared completely overnight, and as George led the group east, away from the gate they had come through the night before, they had to shield their eyes against the bright morning light. Dawson looked around, his eyes adjusting to the brightness. This was his first real look at their new home, and he was immediately struck by the barrenness of the terrain. The ground was dry and red, and as hard as concrete. Dawson kicked at a partially exposed rock, but it stubbornly held fast. An occasional clump of native grasses and a few stands of dried brush dotted the open countryside, but otherwise the landscape was clear of vegetation.
They were in the bottom of a vast, natural bowl. The immediate area was flat for several miles in all directions, then sloped up to foothills. Low, snowcapped mountains, perhaps five or six miles distant, surrounded them.
Dawson shifted his attention to the more immediate area. Fences were just visible on all directions, outlining, Dawson guessed, the perimeter of the campus. The university grounds were square shaped and quite extensive. The dormitory was near the center of the campus, and most of the other buildings, except the few they had passed the night before, were to the east. At the time of the earthquake, the entire campus had consisted of perhaps two dozen buildings, almost all of which had been completely destroyed by the earthquake and ensuing fires. Many had been large, some nearly a city block long, and they were mainly arranged along either side of the central road. In three places smaller roads jutted out from the main road for several hundred yards, ending in groups of small buildings. These buildings, like most of the large ones, were now little more than piles of rubble. The sole exception was a newly painted storage tank at the end of one side road. As they walked, George explained that it was for storing the generator fuel.
They continued down the road for several minutes when George stopped them to let Alec and Ted catch up. Alec was simply a slow walker, but Ted had fallen behind because he was lugging a large knapsack with him. While they waited, George pointed to the north. “Over there,” he said, “at the base of the tallest peak. That is where we found the fossil with the metal collar. It is fitting, I believe, to end the program so close to where it all began.”
Dawson nodded and looked around the area again. It struck him that the entire campus had been something of an enigma. Not just its isolation - and it did seem to be cut off from all civilization - but also the fact that it covered so much ground considering, by comparison, how few buildings there were. Even the largest university would fit easily into just one corner of the property.
George seemed to sense Dawson’s puzzlement. “It is a real shame,” George said sadly. “We were going to fill the entire site with buildings that housed every conceivable discipline - the sciences, arts, languages, literature - everything. A world class university, unrivalled in our region, perhaps even in all the world. But we also had dreams for much more. For a new city surrounding the university, within the confines of the fences you see. Built from the desert to house the students and academics, and to provide for the service industries that such a large facility would require. It would also have had room for the new high tech companies that would take advantage of the proximity our research center. Many thousands of people were to have lived here, to have worked here, to have studied here. Unfortunately, the earthquake changed all that. Someday, though, I hope we will rise from the ashes like the phoenix itself.”
Derek grinned. “You will rebuild, George, I promise you that. Once we’ve made contact with the messenger probe, it will be brought to Anjawan and this will be the center for its study. We will decipher its secrets here.” As Derek spoke he turned solemnly to each scientist in turn. “History will be made in this place, starting with the project we begin today.”
Derek paused, and Dawson was afraid he was going to launch into another pep talk. One was his limit for any particular day. Dawson quickly asked George, “Where’d you say we were going?”
“To the end of the road,” George replied, pointing east. Alec, who by now had caught up with the group, began shuffling down the road. The others followed. But before they got more than a hundred yards, Andy and Cindy, who had been walking just ahead of the adults, suddenly bolted from the group. After being cooped up travelling for two days, they were bursting with energy. Ignoring shouts from both George and their father, they raced to the remains of a small nearby building and began climbing up the rubble. Dawson trotted over to retrieve the kids just as Andy reached the top of the pile. Andy lifted a piece of cinderblock over his head and, with a shout, heaved it to the ground below.
“Watch it!” Dawson shouted up to Andy. “You kids need to come on down before someone gets hurt.”
“Awww, man,” Andy complained, “can’t we do anything fun?”
But before Dawson could respond, Andy was back on the ground and noisily chasing his sister back towards the road.
Dawson stared down at the rubble around his feet, then knelt and examined it more closely. The fire that had destroyed the building, he saw, must have burned with an incredible intensity. Most of what remained was small lumps of blackened concrete and mangled bits of metal; there was no sign whatsoever of the wood that would have been used throughout a building this size. A length of metal reinforcing rod lay nearby, so twisted by the heat that it looked like a strand of wet spaghetti. The dirt around the building had a glazed sheen to it - the surface having been partially melted by the heat.
Dawson rejoined the others as they continued down the road for another quarter mile, passing the ruins of more buildings. Eventually they encountered two buildings that, like the dormitory, had been spared from the full impact of the earthquake. The first was a three-story building on the right side of the road. It had a large central area, with wings coming out on either side. A jeep, the two cars they had come in the night before, and three pick-up trucks were parked along the near side. As they passed, the front door opened and a man in drab green fatigues stepped out and saluted. George waved in reply, and the man spun briskly around and disappeared back into the building.
“That’s Kemal Usef, a good man for you to know,” George told them. “He’s part the group of men assigned to us - Usef, the three drivers from last night, and three others. They’ll be staying in this building. They’re here to take care of our needs.”
“Are they army?” Ted asked, frowning.
George struggled with the question. “No. Well, not exactly army, anyway. More like a security force. This part of Turkey is somewhat, shall we say, politically unsettled. Many different ethnic groups have ruled this area over the centuries, with the result that most of them feel they have legitimate claim to the land. It has the potential of being a very messy situation. So, day to day order is kept by local militia, such as these men here. They take their orders from regional leaders, who ultimately report to the national government. It keeps the local population from rocking the boat too much.”
Ted was skeptical. “Do we really need them here? I mean, is there really any danger that this ethnic unrest is going to affect us?”
“Danger? Probably not. But having the security forces here makes things easier for us in many ways. It lets the people of Anjawan know that we are a legitimate presence, so they will be less inclined to bother us. The men will also provide us support - getting food, equipment, medicine, whatever we need. We won’t have to worry about the day to day things and will be able to concentrate on our work.
“There is one other thing about this building: it is strictly off limits. The men are very protective of their equipment and distrustful of foreigners, and I cannot guarantee how they would react if they chanced upon you within their building. So the building is absolutely off limits to all of you - is that clear?”
The
comment was addressed to all, but George stared hard at Burt when he said it. Burt nodded his compliance, and the group continued down the road another fifty yards. Here the pavement dead-ended into the other intact building. It was two stories high, about 200 feet wide and, like the other buildings, made of cinder block and concrete. The road terminated in a circle at the midpoint of the building, just in front of the main entrance.
George walked up to the main entryway - a pair of glass double doors inscribed with the number 12. “Here it is!” George announced. “Building 12 - Your new office and lab building!”
Chapter Twelve
Building 12 was standing, which meant it was in better shape than the other buildings they had passed, but from the outside it looked extensively damaged. The south half was relatively intact, but the windows immediately north of the central entrance were all blown out. Further to the north, the top floor had collapsed completely, and it looked unlikely that the lower floor underneath was habitable.
The scientists stared at the building in an awkward, disappointed silence, looking from one end to the other. Finally, Meredith spoke aloud what was on everyone’s mind. “I don’t know about this. Is it even safe to go inside?” Derek shook his head in growing disbelief. “This is not what I was expecting, George,” he growled.
George held out his hands defensively. “Yes, yes, Mr. Becker, from out here it does not look like much. But are we not cautioned against judging a book by its cover? With our time constraints we made only essential repairs, nothing cosmetic. Please, wait until you see the inside before you pass judgment.”
With that, George hurriedly pulled the door open and beckoned the group to enter. They walked through a foyer and into the main lobby. Derek’s face clouded over as he surveyed the area. The lobby, lit only by light that filtered in through the windows, had a hazy, surreal, appearance. The room itself was quite spacious, about twenty-five feet wide and extending the entire depth of the building. The back wall was filled with windows, most of which were too dirty to see out of. Empty picture hangers dangled from the side walls. The room was furnished with a few broken chairs, a vacant reception desk, and a short sofa with coffee table. Otherwise, the floor was covered with piles of debris. A hallway intersected the lobby at its midpoint. To the left the hallway extended only a few feet into the north wing, then was blocked by a plywood sheet.
“Our offices are there,” George said, pointing towards the open hallway on the right. Dawson carefully picked his way to the center of the room and stared down the hall. Unlike the lobby, the hall was completely clear of debris. It ran to the end of the building, terminating in an open stairwell at the end wall. Three doors, two on the right and one on the left, stood open near the far end of the hall. Dawson stepped forward, towards the hall, but, before he could enter it, Andy and Cindy raced past him. They ran down the corridor and through the first open door on the left. Dawson went after them, the others following closely.
The scientists breathed audible sighs of relief when they walked into the first office. It was completely unlike the lobby. The room was meticulously clean and brightly lit by fluorescent ceiling lights. Two large, spotless picture windows filled the back wall. The floors had been scrubbed, and the walls were a uniform eggshell white. The odor of fresh paint lingered in the air. A large desk with a very comfortable looking swivel chair was pushed against one of the side walls. A potted plant sat on a small table beneath one window. The center of the room was occupied by a medium sized table with four chairs. The table, as well as much of the floor, was covered with an assortment of boxes. Cindy sat in the chair by the desk, squealing with delight as Andy spun her around.
“This is your office, Mr. Becker,” George said above the children’s noise. “I hope you like it.”
Derek’s stony expression dissolved into a smile, much to George’s obvious relief.
“The other two offices are to be shared. Dr. McPherson, you and Burt get the office next to this one. There is an extra desk in there, which I will use when I am in this building. Professors Nelson and Krezler, you will share the office across the hall.
“And these boxes,” George continued, motioning to the table, “contain the computer equipment that each of you requested. My men will be here in a moment to move them to your offices. In the meantime, perhaps you can look through them to determine who gets what.”
Meredith, Ted, Alec and Derek walked up to the piles of computer boxes and began sorting them. Dawson stepped forward to join the others, but George stopped him with a gentle tap on his shoulder. “Your things are already upstairs, in your lab. Shall I take you there?”
Dawson nodded, and George led him to the end stairwell. They climbed the single flight to the top floor. Here, the earthquake damage was more evident. Large pieces of debris, including broken doors and smashed sections of walls, cluttered the hall well before the area above the lobby. Beyond that, the rubble worsened and the hall was partially lit by sunlight streaming through holes in the ceiling. Farther yet the hall was completely blocked by the collapsed remains of both walls.
“Your lab is right in here, Professor Jones.”
George motioned to the first door on the right. Dawson picked his way through the debris, turned the knob and, with some apprehension, walked in. As was the case with the offices, though, he was pleasantly surprised by what he found. The lab was clean and roomy. Sunlight poured through large windows on the back wall, brightening the room immensely. A desk and short file cabinets were pushed against the back wall, directly under one of the windows. A computer monitor blinked slowly on the desk; the computer itself was on the floor below the desk. Wall and floor cabinets lined the two side walls, providing an abundance of both storage and counter space. The central portion of the room was taken up by lab workbench. A large wooden crate had been place on the far end of the bench; the near end of the bench was equipped with a large, two basin sink, with a glassware drying racks arranged neatly behind it.
The horizontal surfaces of the lab were piled high with various boxes. Small wooden cases, the names of chemicals stenciled on their sides, covered one of the counter tops. Cardboard boxes, most labeled “Glassware - Fragile”, covered much of the center workbench and the other wall cabinets. Large cylinders of compressed gasses neatly lined one wall.
“Will the lab suffice?” George asked. Dawson nodded, and George continued. “I was hopeful it would. This room had been set up as a lab before the earthquake and so required very little refurbishing.”
Dawson walked to the desk and peered through the window. Below, the barren earth glowed red in the morning sunlight. The perimeter fence was a short distance away, and, further out, were the foothills and low mountains to the east of the campus. Total desolation, Dawson thought, yet in many ways a more pleasant view than that from his office back home.
George looked from one stack of boxes to another, and shook his head. “I’m glad it’s you and not me,” he told Dawson, “I would have no idea where to begin.”
Dawson sighed. It had been a long time since he had set up a lab from scratch, and he knew he had a lot of work ahead of him. He grabbed a white lab coat and absently put it on.
With a nod and a smile, George excused himself. Dawson wandered around the lab for several minutes, aimlessly moving boxes from one spot to another and looking through the drawers in his desk. This was the hardest part, finding some where to start. Finally, he stepped up to the large wooden crate that lay on the end of the central bench. It contained, he knew, a new chemical containment and isolation chamber - or, as it is more simply known in the lab, a glove box. The day’s most important and labor intensive task would be to assemble the glove box and get it in working order. Jones lifted a crowbar from the bench top and began dismantling the crate from around it.
The glove box was critical to Dawson's work because it would allow him to safely handle his organoborane compounds. Working with these chemicals in the open was out of the question, since both the oxygen and
humidity in the air would cause them to spontaneously ignite. The glove box circumvented this problem by providing a dry, oxygen free enclosure where the chemicals could be safely stored and handled.
The glove box itself was roughly the size and shape of a large chest freezer. The top, bottom, back and two side walls were stainless steel. The front panel was made of clear plastic, allowing Jones a clear view of the box interior. A pair of long black rubber gloves was embedded in the plastic front and extended far into the interior of the box. By sticking his hand into the gloves, Dawson would be able to handle the materials inside in box.
After a few minutes the crate was completely dismantled, and Dawson began to systematically tighten the screws that secured the plastic window to the front of the glove box. This would make the box airtight. Dawson would next replace the air inside with argon, a completely unreactive gas, providing the inert environment necessary for the organoboranes. Once the box was free of oxygen, Dawson would move chemicals and equipment into it through the antechamber, a small steel cylinder attached to one side of the box. An antechamber has two airtight doors: an inner door sealing it from the box interior, and an outer door sealing it from the lab. Materials are moved into the glove box by sealing the inner door and opening the outer, loading the antechamber, then closing the outer door. With both doors sealed, the air in the chamber is evacuated with a vacuum pump. The antechamber is then filled with the inert gas, argon in this case, from the box interior, and the inner door opened.
Tightening the screws for the front plastic panel required care. If they were too tight, the plastic would crack; too loose, and air would leak in. After twenty minutes Dawson was satisfied and began the time consuming task of replacing the interior atmosphere with argon. Fortunately, this chore was semi-automated. Dawson set the controller to purge and checked his watch. The glove box would not need attention for nearly two hours.
