“Tali, you know I am not extremely fond of your predecessors and even though I am convinced that with your leadership, the CEG will eventually become the governing body the Earth needs, I was already committed to leaving and nothing was going to stop me.”
“It is true I took most of the information and research pertaining to any black projects that my people worked on out of my corporate archives before leaving. Those who are accompanying me on this trip all did the same, if they were working on such projects. I made sure it was hidden away from those agencies because I know for a fact they were preparing to use it in the most harmful ways imaginable.”
“I then launched millions of instances of an artificially intelligent worm into the cloud to monitor global communication and wait for certain predefined conditions to be met before either destroying the data forever or sending this message to you with the instructions needed to recover it. I’m giving it all to you so you can use it for the advancement of humankind.”
“The files I am about to give you the key to unlock, contain information about a power source the size of a small briefcase that can provide enough energy to light and heat a whole continent for decades. There are plans for propulsion technologies that can accelerate a ship of any size to super-luminal velocities and modulate waveforms in higher dimensions to allow almost instantaneous communications over distances of hundreds of light years.”
“There is genetic and medical research here that can cure cancer and any other disease that we currently consider terminal. There is proven research in this data that can prevent birth defects and even correct congenital defects in people who are already born. There is research on farming and animal husbandry that can increase crop and meat yields up to four hundred percent, using the same seed and livestock strains.”
“All of this information has been held in secret by national governments and even the CEG for at least two decades – as long as I have been associated with black projects – and most likely longer. I want you to take it and make sure it gets disseminated to all scientists and researchers, not just those working on government contracts.”
“I can’t be there, Tali. I’m trusting in you to do the right thing. There are twenty billion people on Earth at this moment and we can’t feed two thirds of them with any regularity. Disease is rampant, as well as unrest. I won’t tell you I believe what I am giving you can save everyone, but at least it will give people a fighting chance until better answers can be found.”
“You’ll need help to accomplish this. My suggestion is to get in touch with Bryce McLeod and Dmitri Sotravits. They are the only two engineers left on Earth I would trust with my life. They were both asked to go with me and refused. I didn’t question their motives for staying, and kept them in my confidence for the whole time I spent building the Ark. I trust them implicitly. I believe you should also.”
“As soon as I confirmed that you got this message, I took the liberty of having my AI, contact them and tell them to get with you. Unless I miss my guess, Bryce will be on the tele-link with you in a matter of minutes.”
The image of Chamberlain disappeared and a load thermometer popped up onto the screen making it apparent the AI was still in control of the computer. Once the thermometer was gone, a schematic diagram of some sort of electronic device that Petrakis couldn’t readily identify came up on the viewport.
Shortly thereafter, Mills’ voice came booming over the intercom, telling Petrakis there was a call for her on tele-link.
“It wouldn’t happen to be Bryce McLeod, would it,” she asked.
“Actually, it is,” he responded. “And, he has Dmitri conferenced in with him. If I may ask, Tali, what is going on?”
“Everything is fine, Mills,” Petrakis assured him. “Please put them through on a scrambled private channel and arrange to have them both flown here by tomorrow morning. I’ll explain later. This is Top Secret Panorama Level Six.”
It took a few seconds for Mills to answer.
“Understood,” he said. “Call coming through with private encryption, recording ability disabled.”
Petrakis pressed a key on the touch screen of her video phone. The screen lit up with the face of an extremely excited Bryce McLeod.
“Madame Chairwoman,” he said.
“Bryce. It’s good to hear from you,” Petrakis replied. “I’ve been expecting your call.” She shook her head and laughed as one might while watching a chimpanzee reproduce Shakespearian sonnets on a typewriter. Her morning had definitely taken a turn for the surreal.
“I dare say you have,” McLeod said with a thick Scottish accent that wasn’t softened by the fact he’d left Edinburgh over twenty years previously for the Midwestern United States and hadn’t returned since. “Do you have any idea what’s been happening here this morning?”
Petrakis scratched her head and breathed heavily in and out. “It would appear to me that John’s new found flare for the dramatic hasn’t played itself out quite yet,” she said.
“That goes without saying,” Dmitri observed.
Dmitri had traveled from Minsk to the United States as a young engineer fresh out of college to work for Chamberlain in his Chicago offices. He had nothing left of his accent when he spoke English, but he still spoke Russian and Ukrainian like a native.
“The computers in Bryce’s lab have been completely taken over by some sort of AI,” he said. “It’s been pulling in bits and pieces of information hidden in plain sight all over the Global Data Sharing cloud and assembling them into larger files all morning.”
Bryce piped back up.
“Most of what’s been coming in is engineering and research data,” he said. “Some of it, I’ve seen before, but the rest is incredible. I don’t know how to begin.” He grabbed his tele-link camera and turned it so it was looking at one of his computer screens.
“Do you see that,” he asked. “It’s the plans for a bloody hyperspace radio. As far as I can tell, it doesn’t use a whole lot of exotic materials or complex circuitry. But I must admit I’ve never seen a radio with an antenna that spins at thirty five hundred revs. I could put together a test unit in about a week…”
Dmitri interrupted.
“There are also plans for a spaceship here with an engine based on anti-gravity,” he said. “While that is nothing really new in itself, this one is actually practical. It doesn’t require a reactor big enough to power a whole planet in order to work.”
“There is something else that is incredible. The plans for the ship include a force field generator that will punch a hole in space-time ahead of the ship allowing the anti-grav engine to push the ship past light speed.”
“Indeed, Tali,” Bryce interjected. “We haven’t been able to make a complete assessment because parts of the plans haven’t been compiled by the AI yet. But, from the pieces we’ve seen it looks like the force field harnesses mechanical energy from the wake that is created in hyperspace by an object moving around in our Newtonian/Einsteinian space-time. I’ve seen theoretical papers that hint at this type of technology before, but the authors were always discredited.”
“Toward the end of the 21st century some scientists started wondering if the effects predicted by the Theory of Relativity might actually be the result of something else,” Dmitri added. “Nobody could come up with a theory where all aspects of electromagnetism, quantum mechanics, general and special relativity fit elegantly. Out of the blue, a bright graduate student asked why nobody ever thought of applying fluid dynamics to the concept of luminiferous aether.”
“The science establishment laughed at him,” Bryce said. “But, somebody must have taken him seriously because this field generator is designed upon that principle. Everyone knows that airplanes have to be certain shapes to go supersonic. The drag coefficient of a sphere or cube, for example, is much greater than the coefficient of a streamlined body.”
“From what I can see here, this generator creates a field around a spaceship that reduces the drag coefficient pr
oduced by motion through this aether to almost zero. It removes all relativistic effects from the equation. If this really works, do you know what it means, Taliyah?”
“Madre de Dios, Bryce,” Petrakis exclaimed. “First things, first. How much more information do you think is out there for the AI to collect and compile?”
Dmitri spoke up.
“If I may,” he said. “The original data burst lasted three hours and fifteen minutes. I believe the AI knows exactly where each piece of the data is and will be able to reassemble it in that amount of time or slightly more. John knew there would be a move on his headquarters and labs. He also knew the CEG would be keeping tabs on all his business partners and acquaintances. If I may put forth a theory…”
Bryce interrupted him.
“Is this link secure on your end, Taliyah,” he asked.
“Of course,” Petrakis said.
Bryce told Dmitri to continue.
“John was one of those people who liked having an ace in the hole,” Dmitri said. “I think the entirety of the data he destroyed will never be collected in a single place ever again. I also think the AI he created will never be completely purged from the cloud until it has finished the job he programmed it to do. I believe its purpose is to feed the data to us as we are ready for it. Let’s look at what he has given us so far.”
“The radio,” McLeod exclaimed. “I think I can build one in about a week to ten days.”
“Don’t we need two of them in order to be certain the principle is sound,” Dmitri asked.
Bryce laughed.
“I think if we get ours built and powered up, we’ll find that someone else has already built one and wants to talk to us.”
****
The playback on the tablet stopped.
The Historian was trembling. He had always felt the bias against John Edward Chamberlain in the official historical texts may have been undeserved. He also felt the man must have made some noteworthy contributions before leaving the Earth.
It was a historical fact that within five years of the date stamp on this security video, development of hyper-channel and hyper-resonant shielding technologies were in full swing. And before that time, there was absolutely no mention of either technology to be found.
It was also historical fact that McLeod and Sotravits were given credit for the discovery, but along with Petrakis were eventually imprisoned for conspiracy and theft of government secrets without the benefit of an open trial. None of the records had ever been made public.
Since first reading about Chamberlain, Zheng felt the man had become a scapegoat for all that was wrong with Earth at that time in history. He also believed that Chamberlain had been made a villain to take focus off the ineffectiveness of the CEG and all the poorly formulated governments that succeeded it up until the time the League of Aligned Planets became the supreme legislative body in this part of the galaxy. He was never certain, up to that point, that there may have been a more sinister crime perpetrated against Chamberlain and his associates.
Still, this first video was not proof positive that Chamberlain was a hero. The Historian would have to see what else was on the cards.
What he had seen so far only told him for certain that Chamberlain had contacted, by proxy, associates who remained behind on Earth, and told them he had indeed hidden vital technology from the Earth’s governments and was going to share it with them, if they chose to assist him.
The Historian turned off the tablet. He then collected the rest of the memory cards, and along with the tablet, placed them in his briefcase. He threw the box they were shipped in on the fire and pulled on his coat.
It was a cold night, and the walk from the History Building across campus to his apartment would be uncomfortable, but he wasn’t dreading it in the least. He was actually excited to get going.
He rarely examined antiques, recordings, documents and the like away from his office. Even those items sent to the Historian surreptitiously were seldom taken anywhere else. This time, however, the Historian was truly concerned the Bureau might send agents to confiscate the items before he could study them.
The only place he knew for certain he could playback the rest of the recordings in complete secrecy was his apartment. He was certain there were no listening devices there.
He opened the door, turned off the lights and walked out. After the door was closed he lifted the briefcase and whispered a pass code into the pickup that set the voice lock. He would have to be sure to change the code after he was safely behind the doors of his apartment, but for now his current code would have to do.
He walked down the stairs to the main hallway and out the front door. As he made his way down the steps to the sidewalk, two men in heavy coats approached him.
He was just a bit startled until one of them spoke.
“Herbert Zheng. You old Terra Novan grave robber,” the man exclaimed. “How have you been?”
It was Lennart Pedersen, one of Zheng’s oldest friends, and The Bureau of Historical Sciences Undersecretary of Human Studies.
“I can’t complain, Len,” Zheng answered, wondering why he was being called on by a Bureau of Historical Sciences official at this particular moment. Especially, this official, who was in charge of the program to catalog any old Earth ships mothballed in the derelict yards. Zheng was quite wary of these types of coincidences.
“If you are here to talk about Gabi’s final grade in my Senior Military History class,” he said. “It took everything I could possibly do to raise her to a B+…”
“No Herb,” Pedersen replied. “This has nothing to do with Gabi’s marks. Thanks for giving her all that extra credit work, by the way. It helped immensely.”
Pedersen signaled for the man accompanying him to check the area and make sure there was nobody around that might overhear the rest of their conversation.
“Herb,” he said. “I believe you know Captain Mahzarhi.”
A puzzled smile came over the Historian’s face.
Mahzarhi reached out and took Zheng’s hand in a friendly, but hurried handshake.
“Hello, Herbert,” he said without smiling. “Long time, no see.”
“Nashur,” Zheng replied. “I thought you were in the digs.”
Mahzarhi winked at him and walked off to look around. The Historian turned to Pedersen and asked him what was going on.
“I haven’t been here in a while and I just thought I owed you a visit, Herb,” Pedersen replied. He looked around as he spoke. The Historian had no trouble telling that Pedersen was nervous and there was no way he’d give a straight answer until he was certain that nobody had seen them together.
“If you would like to talk in private, we could go back inside the building and up to my office,” Zheng offered. He didn’t really expect the offer to be accepted. He was just making conversation until Mahzarhi returned.
The two stood in silence for a minute more. Mahzarhi checked one final hedge row and scanned a few more windows for signs that anyone might be observing them. When he found none, he nodded to Pedersen.
“Herb,” Pedersen said with as serious a look as any Zheng had ever seen on his face. “There is something I need to discuss with you quickly and privately and then I need to get off this accursed rock without a lot of attention being drawn.”
“Understood,” the Historian said. “The offer still stands. We could convene in my office.”
“No,” Pedersen answered. He motioned for Mahzarhi to join them again. He then asked, “How far away are your quarters?”
Chapter 11
Mahzarhi, Pedersen and Zheng moved rather quickly across the campus toward the faculty housing. The sidewalk was completely clear although there was snow over a meter deep on either side with drifts up to the bottoms of the first floor windows of all the buildings they passed along the way. It was below freezing and the three pulled the collars of their jackets up around their ears.
“Damn it, Herb,” Pedersen hissed. “Isn’t it ever summer her
e?”
The Historian smiled to himself.
“Being from Stockholm,” he replied. “I’d have thought that this weather would be making you homesick.”
Pedersen cursed again, under his breath.
“At least the sun warms Stockholm up a month or two each year,” he said as he pulled the collar of his jacket tighter to fend off the cold evening wind. “I’ve never been here when there wasn’t at least half a meter of snow on the ground.”
“I must admit the temperature rarely gets above freezing at this latitude, Len,” Zheng explained. “But, closer to the equator it stays between fifteen and twenty Celsius year-round.”
“Why the Hell did they build this place in a polar region, then,” Pedersen asked.
The question was possibly rhetorical, but then again possibly not. Before Zheng could surmise if he actually wanted an answer, Pedersen stopped.
He turned to Zheng and said, “I think since I am here, I should go stop in and see Gabi.” He then asked Mahzarhi, “Nashur, would you please go on with Herb to his apartment and fill him in on why we’re here?”
“Of course, Commodore,” Mahzarhi replied.
The Historian looked at the pair with stunned amusement.
Pedersen retired from the Fleet as a commander to take a post with the Bureau at the same time Zheng retired from the Marines as a colonel. Pedersen did the required stint in the reserves, but never took a promotion above first officer. Why Mahzarhi was chauffeuring him around and suddenly referring to him as a light admiral was going to take a lot of explanation. Especially since only Zheng and Mahzarhi were in uniform.
After Pedersen walked off toward his granddaughter’s apartment in the student housing section; Mahzarhi turned to find Zheng shaking his head. He motioned they should proceed and muttered, “Alibi,” as the two started again toward Zheng’s apartment.
Once inside the front room with the door closed, Zheng grabbed Mahzarhi by the arm.
“What the Devil is going on, Nashur,” Zheng asked. He was livid.
Chamberlain's Folly (The Terra Nova Chronicles) Page 10
