The Hidden Truth: A Science Fiction Techno-Thriller

by Hans G. Schantz

  That afternoon Amit was going out with Emma, so I didn’t go over to his folks’ hotel after my physics class. I went to the Tolliver Library instead. The place had a fascinating history. Before Great-Great Grandpa Tolliver died over a hundred years ago, he decided to endow a university: Tolliver Technical Institute. By the time of the Great Depression, Tolliver Tech rivaled places like Vanderbilt, Georgia Tech, and Auburn as a regional engineering powerhouse. However, the Tollivers failed to keep a tight grasp on their namesake. They lost control of the Board of Directors during World War II when the school reorganized as a military training institute. Dad claimed that in the 1950s and 1960s, the school became “a hot bed of experimental and progressive foolishness.” Even I’d heard stories about how it was a real party school. Quality suffered. In any event, by the 1970s, the Tolliver Corporation stopped hiring Tolliver Tech graduates. The school blew through its endowment, and went bankrupt. The State of Tennessee acquired the campus and integrated the facility into the community college system. Now the place only offered two-year technology degrees and basic classes. Through all the turmoil, however, the Tolliver Library remained intact and funded under a separate endowment run by whichever Mrs. Tolliver fancied herself as a patron of knowledge. The technical books were dated, and the library had long since stopped keeping up with the leading edge of scientific and technical development, but it was a beautiful and little-used facility perfect for some quiet study.

  When I finished my homework on waves, I decided to see if I could find a good book, so I could learn more. I was browsing the shelves when I found it. In faded gold letters, the cover said “Electric Waves. Franklin. The Macmillan Company.” Of course, I knew about Benjamin Franklin and that he flew his kite and developed lightning rods, but waves? I thought electric waves were much later. Intrigued, I picked up the book. “Electric Waves – An Advanced Treatise on Alternating-Current Theory by William Suddards Franklin, Professor of Physics in Lehigh University.” The book was printed in 1909. I almost put it back when I realized it wasn’t written by that Franklin. I started leafing through it, and I found it was full of wonderful and simple drawings of waves: water waves, sound waves, and electric waves. Just what I needed. I found a comfortable chair, settled in, and started reading. I was on page 115 when I saw the words that forever changed the course of my life:

  “The theory of wave distortion in transmission lines and cables was first developed by Heaviside. The second half, pages 306-454, of Heaviside’s Electromagnetic Theory, Vol. 1 (London, 1893), is an extremely simple and interesting discussion of this subject. In his forthcoming third volume, Heaviside will elaborate on his remarkable theory of wave interference whereby electric waves bounce off each other. This ingenious discovery promises to unlock similar valuable insights.”

  That confused me. “Wave distortion theory” seemed esoteric enough. Electric waves bouncing off each other? That just didn’t seem right. But, it was time for me to be heading home. I replaced the book on the shelf and resolved to ask my dad about it.

  * * *

  “Radio waves do not bounce off each other,” Dad said matter-of-factly. “They pass right through each other. They only bounce off material things, particularly conductors.”

  I told him what I’d read.

  “‘Electric waves’ is just an old fashioned way of describing a radio wave, or more generally, an electromagnetic wave,” Dad explained. “Whatever you want to call it, that’s either a mistake or you’re misremembering it,” he insisted.

  I took offense at the implied slight on my powers of recollection. I asked Dad if I could borrow his computer. I went to his study and fired up the web browser. By that time, many books that were out of copyright were available online. I searched for “electric waves franklin” and had no trouble finding it. I navigated through to page 115 as Dad watched over my shoulder.

  “The theory of wave distortion in transmission lines and cables was first developed by Heaviside. The second half, pages 306-454, of Heaviside’s Electromagnetic Theory, Vol. 1 (London, 1893), is an extremely simple and interesting discussion of this subject.”

  That was it. A blank void loomed below that text. There was no further discussion of a forthcoming volume three nor a mention of bouncing waves.

  “You must be studying too hard,” Dad said with a chuckle.

  Now I wasn’t merely offended. I was mad. I knew I wasn’t imagining things, and I wouldn’t have made a stupid mistake like that. I controlled my temper, and printed out a copy of the page to keep for reference. Further discussion wasn’t going to help, so I decided to bide my time and change the subject.

  “What’s the project you’re working on with Uncle Rob?” I asked.

  “I’m just helping him clear some land and pour a foundation for a new barn.”

  “The reason I asked is Sheriff Gunn asked me this morning if I knew anything about a lot of truck traffic at Uncle Rob’s place.”

  Dad was normally very expressive. He froze for a moment. He checked the time on his watch. With an obviously feigned casualness that belied his too-long dramatic pause he asked, “So, what did you tell him?”

  “I said I hadn’t been up there in months and I didn’t know.”

  Dad looked at me gravely.

  “Anything else?”

  “That was the end of it,” I assured him. “So, why would Uncle Rob’s barn require so many trucks?”

  “I called in some favors and borrowed a back hoe and a bulldozer for the excavation.” I saw Dad glance down at his watch. “And we had a cement mixer up to pour in the foundation and a pad.” That sure didn’t sound like enough truck traffic for the sheriff to find noteworthy. I could tell he was hiding something, but if he didn’t want to discuss it, it wasn’t any of my business.

  Just then, Mom called us both to dinner. Dad said Grace, and we ate. He ate quickly, checked his watch again, excused himself, and told Mom, “I need to head back to Rob’s tonight. I’ll be up late. Don’t wait up for me. You can call me at Rob’s, but only if you really have to.” He forestalled any questions by looking at me and saying: “Do clear the table and wash the dishes for your mother, please.”

  “Yes, sir.” I could tell a direct order when I heard one.

  I could see Mom was deep in her “I’m worried but can’t discuss it in front of the children” mode. “OK, dear.”

  Dad popped back into his study. I could hear him power up his radio. A staccato burst of Morse code punctuated the air. A few moments later, came a reply with a slightly offset tone. I was wishing I’d mastered Morse code back when he first started trying to teach me.

  Once Dad left, I asked Mom if she knew what was going on. “I’m sure your father will tell you what you need to know about his business when you need to know it. In the meantime, you should remember not to discuss family business outside of the house.”

  “Yes ma’am,” I said, and I cleared the table for her. She said she’d wash the dishes.

  Knowing Uncle Rob, it might be a still. Dad had let slip that Uncle Rob was prone to condense some of the corn he grew into more marketable form without benefit of government sanction. Dad did not approve. Not that he didn’t imbibe some of Uncle Rob’s product now and then, but he didn’t think the risk Uncle Rob ran was worth it. I couldn’t see Uncle Rob building a meth lab or marijuana grow house, let alone Dad helping him with either project. And frankly, I couldn’t see how any construction project would involve enough trucks for the sheriff to notice or care. When I went to bed, I plugged in my phone and noted that Dad’s phone was charging on the counter. Was he back already and I hadn’t noticed? I stepped into Mom’s sewing room. Dad had installed a four-camera security system that recorded to a computer there. I checked the camera that covered the driveway. His truck was still gone.

  He wasn’t back the next morning. “He probably stayed up at Rob’s last night,” Mom assured me. Probably? She didn’t know? My, Dad was playing whatever it was close to the vest if he wasn’t telling Mom.


  I texted Amit: “Can’t Joe this am. How’d it go?” I had time to get a lunch mostly pulled together when I got his reply: “You’d owe me 20.” Heh. “Berkshire after class?” I asked. “Come on over,” he replied.

  I asked Mom to let me know if she got any updates from Dad and drove to the community college. I walked to the Tolliver Library, bounded up the stairs to the third floor, and found Electric Waves right where I left it on the shelf. I turned to page 115. It was still there:

  “In his forthcoming third volume, Heaviside will elaborate on his remarkable theory of wave interference whereby electric waves bounce off each other. This ingenious discovery promises to unlock similar valuable insights.”

  I knew I hadn’t been imagining things. But, why would two copies of what looked like the same book have such a discrepancy?

  I carefully compared the Tolliver Library copy in my hand to the printout of the Omnitia scan I made last night. They looked identical, except for the extra sentence about bouncing waves in the footnote. I made a photocopy of the page to take home and show Dad. Then, I went to the catalog terminal and searched for Heaviside’s Electromagnetic Theory. Up came Volume 1 published in 1893, Volume 2 published in 1899, and Volume 3 published in 1912. They were all listed at 538.3 H44, right near where Electric Waves had been shelved. I found Volume 3. It was dedicated to the memory of someone named George Francis FitzGerald.

  I began reading Heaviside’s idiosyncratic prose. In the first section of the book, he talked about waves and reflections. If there was anything in his dense prose about electric waves bouncing off each other, my head was too wooden to find it. I didn’t have the physics or the math skills at that point to actually understand electric waves, let alone electromagnetic waves. It was tough going; maybe Dad could help. By this point, I was becoming suspicious of online books. I went back to the Omnitia scan of the Franklin book. I pulled it up on my laptop, and I compared the scans in the Omnitia pdf file to the physical book from the Tolliver Library in front of me. Same title page. Same 1909 copyright date. Both copies even said “Published October 1909.” I started reading, comparing each page, paper versus screen. No differences. This was taking too long. I turned to the index of the physical book and looked up Heaviside: “Heaviside’s Electromagnetic Theory, 113, 115.” Page 113? I checked. Yes, there was a mention of Heaviside on page 113 and both books had identical versions of that page. I looked at the index in the scanned file. “Heaviside’s Electromagnetic Theory, 113.” There was no mention of page 115 in the scanned index. But, both the scan and my physical copy had a mention of Heaviside on page 115!

  This puzzled me. Was the Omnitia scan the original version? Then, did someone add the “bouncing waves” verbiage and the extra reference in the index of the Tolliver Library copy somehow? But, if that were the case, there was already a reference to Heaviside on page 115 that should have been indexed but wasn’t. Or, was the Tolliver Library hardcopy the original? Then, did someone delete the bouncing wave verbiage and the index reference, forgetting that there was still another reference to Heaviside on that page? Which was the original version?

  I thought about this. Suppose someone, for whatever reason, wanted to delete the reference to Heaviside and the bouncing waves text on page 115. Suppose they wanted to hide the fact that it was ever there. They might then delete the mention from the index, forgetting that there was another mention of Heaviside left behind on that page. Perhaps. But, why go to such trouble?

  Maybe these bouncing waves were nonsense, like Dad had said. Maybe not. I’d read nearly half of the Franklin book. He was a good writer – easy to follow and clear in his descriptions and analogies. If he vouched for it, that made it potentially credible. I certainly didn’t have the physics expertise to debate the facts. As my debate coach, Mr. Stinson, was fond of saying, though, “If you can’t debate the facts, then debate the personalities.” If there was one thing a couple years of high school debate training made me good at, it was research. I set out to understand the personalities involved to see if some kind of motive or explanation might become evident.

  James Clerk Maxwell developed the theory of electromagnetics in the 1860s and published his Treatise on Electricity and Magnetism in 1873. He was dead six years later at age 48 of stomach cancer. Heinrich Hertz discovered and characterized radio waves in the 1880s. He published his great work, Electric Waves, in 1893. He died the following year – technically – on January 1, 1894. A couple references I found spoke of a “bone malignancy” in his jaw. Others ascribed it to “granulomatosis with polyangiitis” whatever that was. Heaviside died at age seventy-five in 1925, but his final years were unproductive. His behavior became increasingly paranoid and erratic as he complained of being constantly harassed and distracted by the neighbors and their children. Heaviside had dedicated his book to FitzGerald. I looked him up. An electromagnetic pioneer, his work apparently anticipated Einstein’s relativity theory. He died in 1901 at age 49 of some kind of indigestion. Another stomach cancer?

  Three top electromagnetic pioneers died prematurely in what should have been the primes of their lives. It could just be coincidence. Medical science wasn’t that advanced and folks died early of ailments we could cure today. It was certainly curious. I had more questions than answers to show for my morning of research. After class, I headed over to the Berkshire Inn to see Amit.

  I explained what I’d found to him. “Coincidence?” Amit’s eyes lit up. “That many deaths? No way. Don’t you know the expression? The first time is happenstance, the second, coincidence, and the third time is enemy action. Some enemy had it in for the discoverers of electromagnetics.”

  Amit became more convinced when I explained the discrepancy between the book from the Tolliver Library and the scanned version from Omnitia.”

  “Dude,” he said almost condescendingly. “The scan is clearly bogus.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “You can’t trust Omnitia to tell you the truth,” he insisted. “They’re in bed with the government.” Ah, yes. Amit and his Omnitia phobia. I recalled he’d done a report for civics class about the company. Now he was repeating the highlights of his conclusions. Again. “It’s all right there in the name,” he insisted. “Omnitia is Omni – T – I – A: Total Information Awareness. That’s a secret government program to capture and store all emails, all phone calls, and all data transmitted over the Internet for the National Security Agency to search. The government has always wanted comprehensive control over communications. During the First World War, the Navy took over radio completely. After the war, they were forced to return radio to the private sector, but the government colluded to force all the radio companies to sell out to a single company they could monitor and control, the ‘Radio Corporation of America’ or RCA.”

  We’d had this conversation before, if you could characterize my listening patiently to Amit describing the many ways Big Brother was out to get us as a conversation. Amit had even analyzed photos from the December 2001 press conference held on top of the World Trade Center announcing the formation of Omnitia from a consolidation of leading search engines like Yahoo, Alta Vista, and an obscure little start up with a name something like Googol. He examined press photos of the event, and he was convinced some of the bystanders at the press conference were principals at a CIA-backed venture company called In-Q-Tel. I tried to tell him it was ridiculous to think that tens of thousands of people could possibly keep secret the wholesale violation of everyone’s civil rights, but he insisted that’s exactly what they were up to, in the name of national security.

  “The politicians were scared shitless some terrorists were able to drop a plane on top of the Capital and the White House and kill so many of them, let alone President Gore. They demanded that the government make sure nothing like that ever happens again. They’re allowing wholesale surveillance of every communication to try to catch terrorists before they can act. And they’re sweeping up everything else at the same time. Just in case.”r />
  This was not helpful. “So do you think the folks at Omnitia developed a time machine to send their assassins back to take out the discoverers of electromagnetics?” I asked.

  He took my question seriously. “‘He, who controls the past, controls the future. And he who controls the present controls the past.’ That’s Orwell. Omnitia controls the present. You can see, before too much longer, there won’t be any more libraries with actual physical books. It will be too easy to look up and read scans on a computer. And if there’s some truth that the powers-that-be find inconvenient, they can edit our collective memory of it in Omnitia’s database. Besides, the digital copy is trivially easy to modify. No one would go to the trouble of carefully modifying a physical book and then scanning it, when they could make the modifications so much more easily in the scanned images.”

  I began to think he might actually be on to something. “I stumbled across this one tiny discrepancy between a physical book and Omnitia’s online database of book scans. How many more discrepancies are out there? If someone has been editing history, there are probably more edits out there waiting for us to find.”