“But—” Then he sighed. “Oh, I see.” He sounded reluctant, but said, “Yes, I think that can be arranged.”
11
Quantum Resources :
Toronto :
Canada Corp. :
Toronto was vastly different from Ottawa, both in architecture and culture. While the city planners in the nation’s capital tried to keep the city’s expansion spread out over a large area, Toronto was home to some of the most impressive skyscrapers in the country. Where Ottawa was a hub for politics, Toronto’s focus was commerce.
When Quantum Resources was first chartered, its mandate had been to develop Kinemet into a usable fuel source for interstellar flight. Since the Quanta missions had consistently failed, and Alex’s mission had turned into a public relations disaster, Quantum Resources’ ability to capitalize on the new technology had been severely hampered. After Canada Corp. bought all outstanding shares and put Quantum Resources under the umbrella of the Space Mining Division, the Director of SMD had changed QR’s mandate in order to put the company back on a profitable basis.
In their early years, Quantum Resources had attracted some of the best thinkers in the field of astronomy and physics, and it would be a shame to put their collective brain-power to waste. While some of the company’s resources were reserved for analyzing what they knew about Kinemet in the hopes of one day turning it into a viable fuel, the main thrust of their efforts was to improve existing technologies and increase their efficiency.
As a former employee, Michael was still subscribed to their quarterly meshmail reports. In the last two quarters, and for the first time since its incorporation, Quantum Resources was in the black.
When the autotaxi dropped Michael off at a high-rise office complex he didn’t recognize, he rechecked the destination he had entered into the navigation screen. The directory confirmed this was the location for Quantum Resources.
It had been several months since Michael had spoken to Calbert, but at that time his former colleague had not mentioned any upcoming relocation.
Michael authorized the debit charge, and with his overnight bag in hand he stepped out of the vehicle and entered the building.
In the foyer, he approached the reception kiosk and skimmed the list of companies. Quantum Resources offices were on the thirtieth floor.
When Michael got out of the elevator, he stepped out into a scene of chaos. Construction engineers and electricians were putting up walls, stringing power lines, and setting up computer workstations.
Stepping up to a foreman, Michael said, “Hello, I’m not sure if I have the right place. Is Calbert Loche here?”
The foreman pointed down a half-built hallway. “Yeah. His office is back there.”
“Thank you.” Michael smiled and let him get back to work as he picked his way through the piles of ceiling tiles, steel frames and scatter tools.
When he reached the end of the hall, he heard the unmistakable voice of his former second-in-command.
“I don’t care how you do it,” Calbert Loche said as he stared out the window, his back to the door and to Michael. “We need that meshlink up and running by tonight.”
Calbert turned as Michael stepped inside the incomplete office, and the clouded look on his face disappeared as he recognized his old boss. He motioned for Michael to take a seat while he finished his conversation.
“Yes, there’ll be people here all night. I don’t care about overtime, just get your guys to have the link hot by morning.” He paused while listening to the response, then nodded. “Good. That’s what I want to hear.”
Calbert gently touched the comlink sensor at his temple to disconnect it. His smile widened as he reached across his desk to shake Michael’s hand.
“Long time no see,” Calbert said, and pointed at Michael’s chin. “Looks like the weeds are taking over the lawn.”
Michael chuckled, and rubbed his fingers through his graying beard. “It’s from the stress of dealing with all my sassy employees over the years,” he said with a grin.
Gesturing to a guest chair on the other side of his desk, Calbert eased himself into his seat and leaned back.
He regarded Michael with a convivial smile. “How’ve you been keeping?”
Michael nodded. “Good. Good.”
“Staying busy?”
“Doing a lot of reading.” Michael motioned his hand around the office. “I didn’t know you guys had relocated.”
“Expanded.”
“What?”
Calbert’s eyes widened. “We’re keeping the main labs where they are and just moving administration here.”
“Oh? Breakthrough?”
“Ha,” Calbert said. “I wish. No, without any Kinemet, we’re just spinning our wheels. About six months ago, our grant money ran out, and we all thought that was it. But then the Chilean Corp. found out about our experiments with ‘steam cracking’. As it turns out, it’s totally useless for quantum purposes, but there are other possibilities. They approached us about using the technology to increase the efficiency of their hydrogen plants. We applied some of our theories on their systems and nearly doubled their production with only a marginal increase in expenditure. Since then, we’ve secured contracts with a dozen other power plants around the world. It ain’t glorious work, but it does pay the bills.”
“That’s fantastic,” Michael said.
“And the extra profit keeps Ottawa off our backs, and allows us to maintain our labs on CS3, which,” he said, his voice measured and careful, “is why you’re here. Right?”
Nodding, Michael said, “Yes. I got a strange call last night from Alex.”
“I know. I received the report this morning.” Calbert stood up and looked out the window. “You know my hands are tied. SMD holds our charter and they call the shots. I’m just a pencil pusher, as far as they are concerned. I wish I could help.”
Michael cleared his throat. “Maybe you still can.”
“How?” Calbert asked. “I know you’ve tried to go through Alliras, but since USA, Inc. stopped funding us, SMD isn’t willing to spend resources actively looking for more Kinemet. We don’t have any in our possession, and if NASA has any left over, they’re not fessing up.”
“I know.”
Calbert, sounding defensive and frustrated at the same time, said, “I’ve got some contacts on the SMD survey teams. If anyone uncovers even a hint of Kinemet, you can be sure I’ll know about it in two shakes.”
“I know,” Michael repeated.
“I’m sure things will turn around in a few years and we can begin mining Kinemet again.”
Michael shook his head. “Alex doesn’t have that long. But that’s not what I want to talk to you about.”
“It isn’t?”
“Do you have a transcript of the call I received from Alex?” Michael knew Calbert did. Alex was a very well guarded and unique secret, and anything and everything he said was catalogued, charted and analyzed.
“Yeah…?”
Michael cocked his head. “He asked me to find Yaxche.”
“I heard about the kidnapping and the theft. I feel bad for the old man, but as far as that scroll is concerned, it’s a lost cause. I’m not sure why anyone would go to all the trouble.”
“But someone did.” Michael leaned back in the chair. “Alex obviously thinks there’s more there than what we’ve uncovered, and the thieves also think so as well. And, I’m not sure if you noticed, but Alex asked me to find the man, not the scroll.”
Calbert slowly sat down again. “I did notice that. What do you think it means? Do you think Alex knows something we don’t?”
“If he does, he’s not conscious of it. But it feels like there is some validity to this, even if there’s not concrete evidence. Maybe there’s something that’s been lost in translation.”
“All right,” said Calbert. “Let’s say there’s some merit in finding Yaxche—outside of the humanitarian reasons. What makes you think the Honduran Conglomerate isn’t a
lready doing its best?”
“Maybe they don’t think he’s as high a priority as I do,” Michael answered. “Or as important as Alex does.”
Rubbing his upper lip, Calbert said, “Not saying I agree or disagree, but even if I did, what can I do?”
“Is George Markowitz doing anything important for the next couple of weeks?”
“George?” Calbert sat forward, looking genuinely surprised. “What does he have to do with this?”
“I’m going to Honduras to look for Yaxche. I’d like George to come with me. More specifically, I’d like you to assign him to come with me.”
“Why?”
Michael lifted his hand and ticked off a finger. “First of all, he’s the only person I know who’s met Yaxche. George has been down there a few times. He knows the area. Besides, he’s extremely good at research and these kinds of practical puzzles.”
Touching his next finger, Michael said, “Secondly, if you give him this assignment and put it on paper, it will give us a certain amount of legitimacy with the Copán Departmental. We can say we’re on official business. Otherwise I’m just a nosy tourist.”
Calbert took a breath. “This is all a bit much before I’ve had my second coffee, Michael. Have you even given any consideration to the Cruzados? If they are indeed the ones who kidnapped him, do you think they’ll just hand him over to a retired desk jockey?”
“I’m not planning a guerilla incursion,” Michael said. “Once we track down where he is, we’ll call in the Honduran authorities to take over. I know they consider the document a national treasure. They’ll take action. Besides, I’m getting arthritis in my knees; I’m no hero.”
Calbert leaned back in his chair. “I’m still not convinced.”
“Tell you what, give us a couple of weeks. If we end up with nothing but dysentery, then we’ll come home. Unless, of course, you need George for anything…?”
“No, we’ve got him analyzing hydro fluctuations; any intern can do it.”
“Well, then?”
Calbert shrugged. “All right. Fine. Let’s go talk to George and see how he feels about it.”
∞
Calbert fought traffic all the way across the city as he drove Michael to the Quantum Resources labs.
As one of the few country corporations that still operated on a profitable basis, Canada Corp. attracted immigrants from all over the world. The national policy had always been to welcome the influx of people, but in the major cities the infrastructure was strained to the limit. In the past two years, the government had issued a moratorium on new visas.
Population and overcrowding had always been a concern. Space stations and moon colonies were far too expensive to provide a feasible solution to overcrowding. In the back of Michael’s mind—as with others, he was sure—the possibility of life-sustaining worlds in other solar systems would become a primary consideration once they made contact with the alien culture that had built the star beacons.
When the first Quanta mission was announced, there had been a swell of hope for the future, and as a result there had also been something of a population explosion as people anticipated interstellar trade, commerce, and migration.
That hope had been dashed when Alex returned with the news that he had not made contact, and that there were no signs of life in Centauri. The failed attempts to develop the electropathic ability in other pilots, and the subsequent mothballing of the Quanta projects only served to decrease worldwide confidence. As markets plunged and country corporations fell, there was an increase in civil unrest and crime rates around the world.
In his mind, Michael felt as if he had a responsibility for the direction in which humankind was going, since he had been involved from the start. Perhaps some of his discontentment in the past few years was because he considered the entire affair unfinished business.
He wanted to help Alex, there was no doubt of that; but at the same time he felt reinvigorated now that he had renewed his purpose.
“I’ve been thinking,” Calbert said as he swerved to avoid hitting a courier drone. “With our current expansion, we’re going to be recruiting more technicians and researchers. They’re going to need someone grounded in science in an administrative capacity.”
“Oh?” Michael’s interest was piqued.
“Maybe when you get back you might consider taking a position with the company. I was going to ask you a few months ago, but…”
A few months ago Michael would have said ‘no’; he had been too torn with grief over his wife. Melanie had always been supportive of his career, and he knew she would not have wanted to see him wallow in a directionless existence. Now, things were different.
“That sounds perfect,” he said immediately, unable to keep from grinning like a boy.
“We’ll work out the details later. Of course, there are a couple of conditions.”
Michael nodded. “Shoot.”
“First, you would have to be able to take orders from me. It’s a bit of a role-reversal from the last time we worked together.”
“I have no problem with that,” Michael said, and he meant it. He had always had complete faith in Calbert, otherwise he would never have recommended him for his current position as CEO of Quantum Resources, Inc. “Anything else?”
“Just one more thing,” Calbert said in a drawl.
“Yeah?”
Calbert pointed. “Get rid of the beard.”
∞
They arrived at the Quantum Resources labs without incident, and went in search of George Markowitz. When they found him, he was sitting inside an sealed glass tank filled with water. He wore a wetsuit and a complex mask that looked like something out of a science fiction novel. Inside the green-tinted lenses, lights flashed as sensors picked up data and transmitted it to a computer off to the side.
When he spotted Michael and Calbert, George surfaced and pulled the mask off.
“Michael!” he said. “Long time.”
“It is. I hope we’re not interrupting.”
“Nah. Just testing a new compound sealant against stress. Some of the tropical countries are a lot hotter and more humid than others and sometimes the standard sealant breaks down.” He had a wide smile on his face. “I’d shake your hand but I don’t want to get you wet.”
Calbert said, “Actually, if you don’t mind taking a break, we’d like to talk to you about another project.”
“Yeah, sure.” George lifted himself out of the tank and climbed down the step ladder in lively fashion. For a man in his fifties, he remained in very decent shape. Laugh lines at his temples counterbalanced the shock of silver running through his dark hair.
Michael missed George’s boyish enthusiasm for all things scientific. The man had completely changed from his bitter days at NASA working under his vindictive brother-in-law. Even with his current mundane task, he flourished at Quantum Resources. It was nice to see people in their element.
George stood there looking back and forth between the two new arrivals expectantly.
“Maybe you should change,” Calbert suggested. “This might take more than a few minutes.”
Michael said, “Or we could all go to an early lunch.”
∞
They went to a pub down on the corner to eat. While George decimated a Reuben sandwich, washing it down with a frosted glass of beer, Michael related what happened with Alex, and the request to find Yaxche.
“I heard about the kidnapping,” George said. “He was a very nice old man. I hope he’s all right.”
Michael grimaced. “I’m sure he is. The Cruzados must believe he knows something more about the scroll than what he told us.”
Shaking his head, George said, “You don’t think he misled us all this time? I only spoke with him a few times, but deception isn’t in his nature. I don’t believe he’d lie.”
“Neither do I, but maybe something just kept getting lost in the translation. I believe we’ve reached a pivotal point in all this,” Michael said. “Al
ex—and the rebels, obviously—think the scroll will provide the breakthrough we’ve been looking for. I think so, too.”
George wiped his fingers on a napkin. “All right. Sign me up.”
“You sure?” Michael asked.
Glancing at Calbert, who nodded, George grinned like a kid with a new robocycle. “You know, in a way, I always felt like I was one of the pioneers, discovering the scroll in Yaxche’s possession. It pained me that no one could figure it out. I’ve spent hours looking over the reports and studying the simulations and recordings, but I would love to take a crack at this in person.”
Calbert finished tapping a few commands into his portable holoslate and said, “All right. I’ve sent in the orders to head office, reinstating Michael to active duty and informing them of your field assignment. You’re both booked on a flight to Tegucigalpa.” He nodded at them and winked. “You’d better get packed!”
12
Canada Station Three :
Lagrange Point 4 :
Earth Orbit :
Alex sat at a table by himself in the mess hall. He was alone in a crowd of adults. A few familiar faces would nod and smile when he looked up, but no one invited him to eat his meal with them.
In a way, he couldn’t blame them. He was an anomaly. History’s first and only interstellar traveler, Alex looked nothing like a pioneer or a hero. He looked like a sickly boy, and most people shied away at the sight of him.
Picking at his plate of fries, Alex sighed and turned his mind back to his memories. Since the night of his collapse, he hadn’t been able to achieve that transcendent state again. It had been exhausting, and Alex had felt extremely weak for several days afterward.
But there was something out there that he needed to understand. Some metaphysical connection had been made when he was quantized. Was it that haunting voice? What did it want?
Earlier that morning he had tried to message Michael to let his friend know he was all right, but he only got the answering service saying Michael was out of town, but would check his messages periodically.
“Mind if I join you?” someone said, interrupting his thoughts.
Music of the Spheres (The Interstellar Age Book 2) Page 6
