Radiation Hazard (The Stasis Stories #3)

by Laurence Dahners

  “And that’ll save us money… how?”

  “We charge a straight fee of four million per full-sized engine. If your first engine’s workable you can use it in a rocket. If you follow my suggestions, it’ll be workable. Voila, you’ve saved money.”

  Norm rubbed his forehead. Disheartened, he said, “I’m just gonna have to turn right back around and fly back to Texas.”

  Seba studied him, “Don’t forget, you’re supposed to be working half time for us. We’ve got projects that could use that chunk of engineering expertise you owe us.” At Norm’s alarmed look, he put his hands up in a calming fashion, and said, “Don’t get excited. If you don’t want to spend half your time with us, GLI can pay all your salary. When you come to us for a consultation like you just did, GLI can pay for our expertise. Or… you could broaden your thinking about Stade by taking on a non-rocketry project with us, designing something else that uses Stade.”

  Norm blinked, “I’m pretty much a rocket person.”

  “No problem. Just talk to GLI about how they want to handle your salary and our consultation fees.”

  “Um, how much do you charge for a consultation?”

  Looking serious as a judge, Seba said, “Ten thousand dollars an hour at present. It’ll probably be going up though. I don’t like spending my time on other companies’ problems.”

  Norm had a sinking feeling GLI was going to want him to put in his fifty percent here at Staze. It’d save them money overpaying for consultation. Resignedly, he asked, “What would you want me to work on if I was putting in my half time here?”

  Seba thoughtfully leaned back in his chair. “There’re several possibilities you could choose from. But, worst-case scenario, if you were to just put in your time on a project I wanted to be done, not one you chose… Probably I’d have you researching how to engineer a hazardous waste project. We’re buying some land that’s been a toxic waste dump. My offhand plan’s to build a big Stade tank and fill it with the waste, then seal it up for tens of thousands of years. But I keep wondering whether we could set up conditions inside the tank so that the chemicals would break themselves down to something safe in a few decades.”

  “Um, my expertise is in aerospace engineering.”

  Seba shrugged, “Doubt I could find anyone with a college degree in toxic waste engineering. You could hire expertise in the chemistry. You could also choose a different project that’s more aerospace oriented, but I can’t tell you about them until you’re committed because you wouldn’t be able to divulge them to GLI.”

  Norm felt like his head was about to explode. “Can I talk to Mr. Meade?”

  “Sure,” Seba said. “Get back to Texas and you guys can discuss my suggestions and figure how you and GLI want to handle the employment issue. Remind them they’ll owe me for today if they don’t have an engineer working for us.”

  “Okay. Uh, thanks… for the feedback. And the opportunity… And… and…”

  Seba grinned, “Go on. Get out of here. I can tell you’ve got a lot of thinking to do.”

  As Norm walked out, he thought, He’s an undergrad?

  ***

  Emmanuel was waiting for his checkup appointment with Dr. Starbach. Kaem had sent another Uber to pick him up in West Virginia and drive him all the way to Charlottesville. It seemed extravagant, but didn’t compare to the cost of his treatment. Kaem claimed he could afford it with his new salary, so Emmanuel was trying not to worry.

  Now they were sitting together in the waiting room. The care his son was taking for him warmed Emmanuel’s heart with an immense feeling of love.

  This feeling almost overcame the fears that came from wondering about how Kaem had made all the money he was spending on his father.

  Before Emmanuel could fully grapple with all the things he wanted to ask his son, he was called back to see Dr. Starbach.

  He and Kaem waited a few minutes in the exam room, during which they didn’t speak. So, Emmanuel sat and worried. He wanted to talk to Kaem about his concerns but didn’t want to be in the middle of that conversation when the doctor came in.

  His fretting came to an end when Dr. Starbach’s resident came in to talk briefly to him, then left and quickly returned with Dr. Starbach himself. After some discussion, they told him his latest scan was clean and his labs looked good. “You can get back to your life now,” Starbach said. “You’re probably cured, though you’ll need regular checkups for a few years to be sure.”

  Heart leaping, all Emmanuel could think to say was, “I can go back to work?”

  Starbach nodded.

  Emmanuel stood. When Starbach did as well, Emmanuel gathered him into a hug, tears streaming from his eyes.

  ~~~

  As they stood outside Starbach’s office, waiting for another Uber, Emmanuel considered how to broach his concerns. Before he did Kaem turned to Emmanuel. “Dad? Are you going to be able to get any work up in Valen?”

  “I sure hope so. Your mom and I need the income.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping to talk to you about. Tomorrow morning, some of us from Staze are going down to look at a project the company needs to get done. I was hoping you’d come along and consider whether you’d like to take it on?”

  All Emmanuel’s worries about how Kaem was getting the money to pay for his cancer treatments crashed his consciousness. Remembering the unproductive searches he’d done for a company named Staze, his stomach tied itself in a knot. Tentatively, he asked, “What kind of project?” What if Kaem got the company’s founder to offer me some kind of a make-work job? Or, worse, wants me to use my training in chemistry to create drug precursors?

  Blithely, Kaem said, “The company’s trying to buy some land that’s cheap because it’s been contaminated by a hazardous waste dump. It’s hoping to hire a chemist to work out the best way to break down the toxic chemicals in the dump and make it safe.”

  Could the company’s current synthesis of illicit drugs be producing nasty byproducts they’re hoping I can clean up for them? Emmanuel wondered. Hesitantly, he said, “Um, son, you know I didn’t go to college. That I don’t have a chemistry degree, right?”

  “Well, yeah, but you said you had on the job training in chemistry and took a bunch of online courses, right?”

  Emmanuel waggled his head, “Yes… but it’s not the same as a degree. And I haven’t used my chemistry training in so long it’s beyond dusty. It’s probably got mold on it by now.”

  Kaem shrugged. “Shouldn’t take you long to get back up to speed. I can show you some of the internet sites I studied back when.”

  Emmanuel shook his head, “Besides, I’ve never studied anything about the treatment of hazardous waste.”

  Kaem grinned, “No time like the present. Besides, you could hire expertise, the company just needs someone knowledgeable to supervise the people who do the actual work. Will you at least come with us to look at it?”

  Emmanuel forced a smile. “Of course. I can’t afford to turn down job prospects.”

  ~~~

  That evening, as they enjoyed dinner at the Cavalier Buffalo, Kaem increased his father’s joy over his own cure by saying he was planning to have gene therapy to treat his sickle-thal in a couple more weeks. “Would you be able to come down and watch over me when I have it?” Kaem asked, “You know, in case I get sick? There’s a pretty good chance I’ll feel lousy for a few days.”

  Heart leaping, Emmanuel said, “Of course, son.” Then, worried, he asked, “Is it safe?”

  Kaem grinned, “Nothing in this old world’s completely safe. You know that better than most. My treatment’s safer than what you had, though. And it’s a lot safer than living with my disease the way it is. I keep worrying I’m going to have a stroke that leaves me stupid.”

  ~~~

  Thinking about Starbach’s news. Wondering whether he could find steady work in Valen. Calling Sophia and Bana to tell them about his own results. Telling them about Kaem’s planned treatment.

  All those
things kept Emmanuel busy enough that he gave little thought to his concerns about Kaem’s company. Now they were in another Uber, heading toward the coast.

  Kaem dug in his backpack and handed Emmanuel a thermos. Though too bumpy to act much like a mirror, it was very shiny and reflective except for a wide band covered in nubby black rubber. The shiny parts were slippery. Though he could hold the thermos with a firm grip on the bumpy-silvery sections, he quickly understood why it had the rubber grip area. Kaem reached back into the backpack and came out with two mugs, settling them into the cupholders in the console. He said, “You can pour the coffee, but only fill mine about half way.”

  Emmanuel snapped off the spring clip holding the lid, then frowned at the mug. “Isn’t Uber gonna be mad if this thermos dribbles coffee on the upholstery?”

  Kaem said, “They would, but that thermos won’t dribble. Try it.”

  Steadying the thermos against the mug, Emmanuel poured.

  No dribble! Not at all. He studied the rim of the thermos. Smooth, it looked perfectly mirrored. “What’s this thermos made of?”

  Kaem said, “Stade, the company’s product.”

  Emmanuel ran his finger around the rim. It was incredibly slippery. No wonder the coffee doesn’t try to cling to it and dribble down the rim, he thought. He looked inside the thermos, seeing the mirroring going all the way down to the coffee. The interior looked big for a thermos. He reached a finger inside and pinched the wall between his forefinger and thumb. It’s warm and very thin, he thought. Can’t be a very good thermos, there’s no room for the insulating vacuum and it’s conducting the heat of the coffee all up the wall. Thoughtfully, he poured the second mug half-full, capped the thermos and set it down. He picked up his own mug and lifted it to his lips.

  Kaem said, “Careful, the coffee’ll be really hot.”

  Emmanuel’s eyes widened. The coffee was really hot. Like it’d come right out of the pot, not like it’d been carried around in a thermos for an hour or two. Much less carried around in a cheap thin walled thermos. He looked over at Kaem. His son was filling the top half of his mug with milk out of a second thermos. “What’re you having? Milk with a dash of coffee?”

  Kaem grinned. “That’s about right. Coffee’s disgusting. I can’t drink it straight. Wait a moment and you can give me grief for how much sugar I add too.”

  “So, what’s this Stade stuff made out of? It seems like a pretty good insulator.”

  “Ah, that’s the interesting thing. Your thermos and mug are half made of water and half of air. But Stade isn’t really a material. Do you remember me telling you guys that Mr. X based the company on his own version of that theory of time I came up with after high school? Stade’s a little bit of space that’s in time stasis. A place where time’s stopped progressing.” Emmanuel opened his mouth to scoff, but Kaem went on, claiming that because Stade was essentially a segment of stopped time, that it was indestructible. That Space-Gen was making rocket engines out of it.

  Kaem waved at Emmanuel’s hand, “I see you’ve got your ring on. Try scratching that thermos.”

  Thinking his son had completely lost it, Emmanuel shifted the pinky ring he’d received from his own father, turning it so he could use the ring’s small diamond to scratch the smooth upper neck of the thermos. The diamond slipped over the surface without the normal scratching sensation. A scratch wasn’t visible either, so he pressed harder and scratched at it again. It still felt like it slipped rather than scratched. He looked up at Kaem. “I can’t get it to scratch!”

  When he took off the ring and took a grip that would allow him to press even harder, Kaem reached out and grabbed his wrist. “Stop! Trust me. You can’t scratch Stade, but you might be able to dislodge your diamond.”

  Emmanuel felt his world view tilting. Could Kaem truly be part of a legitimate business? he wondered. “Um. If Stade’s made of water, what’s this hazardous waste dump you’re wanting me to help clean up?”

  “It’s not our waste. Someone else had a dump on the land we want to buy.”

  “Why would you buy land contaminated with toxic chemicals?”

  “Because we can clean it up.”

  “You’re thinking I can figure out how? That you’re going to buy the land and just hope I’m successful?”

  “Well, yeah. But don’t worry. If you can’t break down the toxic chemicals, we can just staze the entire dump. It’s just that…” Kaem trailed off and it didn’t seem he was going to resume.

  “Just that what?”

  “I don’t know. It feels like we’re just leaving the problem for someone else to take care of some day in the future. So, I’d like to break them down now if you can figure out how.”

  Emmanuel said, “How far in the future are you talking about?”

  Kaem shrugged, “Billions of years, so I suppose I really shouldn’t worry about it, it just feels like cheating.”

  Mind boggled, Emmanuel sat in silence for a moment. “I assume you’ve read up on this. What methods do they usually use to clean up hazardous waste?”

  “Well, one of the methods is called ‘solidification.’ It isn’t too different from what I’ve just proposed. You bind the waste into a big mass of something like concrete or asphalt so it can’t leak into the air or water. Stazing it would be a significantly better method for that strategy. But the kinds of things I was thinking you could try would be more along the lines of methods called ‘chemical oxidation’ or ‘incineration.’ You might not have realized it yet, but Stade’s not just a good insulator, it’s a perfect insulator. So, imagine if we put a bunch of waste into something like a massive version of the Stade thermos in your hand. If we heated it to something like twenty-five hundred degrees, then sealed it up, it’d stay that hot forever. I’m thinking that if we did that and left it for a year, probably everything toxic inside would be broken down, but I don’t know enough chemistry to be sure of it. Also, when they use incinerators, they usually treat the exhaust and the ash somehow. I’m not sure that incinerating it for a year would break it down enough that you wouldn’t still have to do that.”

  Thoughts whirling, Emmanuel said, “I’d need to do a bunch of research to know whether… whether something like that might work. First, I’d have to have some idea what kind of toxic waste we’re talking about.”

  “We could get a sample while we’re down there today.”

  “What’re you going to carry a sample of hazardous waste around in?”

  Kaem nodded at the thermos Emmanuel still had in his hand. “Drink up. We’ll use that.”

  “Surely you don’t want to ruin this thermos?”

  Kaem shrugged, “Won’t ruin it. Nothing affects Stade, remember?”

  “But how’re you going to clean it?”

  “Dump it out. Nothing sticks to it either.”

  ***

  It turned out Kaem had a couple of gas masks with filtration systems with him. They wore them and gloves down to look at the problem. Kaem had Emmanuel take the rubber grip off the thermos before they dipped up some of the sludgy stuff in the hazardous waste pool. The rubber could be ruined by the chemicals.

  Three more people from Staze showed up right after they’d taken their sample and paced off the rough size of the pond containing the waste.

  Kaem enthusiastically introduced them as Gunnar, Arya, and Lee, treating them as if they were friends, not coworkers. He only gave Emmanuel their last names when Emmanuel asked for them. Embarrassingly, Kaem introduced Emmanuel as his father, “…who has training, though not an actual degree in chemistry. He’s considering taking on the project of, not just stazing, but remediating the hazardous waste on the site.”

  On meeting Gunnar Schmidt, Emmanuel wondered if Schmidt was the mysterious Mr. X. The presence of Schmidt made Emmanuel feel better. The others—especially Kaem—seemed far too young to be making decisions about the remediation of contaminated land. Or buying the farmland. He braced himself for some serious questions from Schmidt, but the man acted
as if he were simply excited to meet Kaem’s dad, not as though he were evaluating Emmanuel for the position. Perhaps, Emmanuel thought, Kaem told him he’d just sprung this on me this morning and I couldn’t possibly be prepared for questions about it. Or, he’s planning to interview me later.

  In just minutes they were off to drive around for another look at the farmland, then to keep a scheduled meeting with a couple of real estate agents.

  To Emmanuel’s surprise, when they started talking to the agents about buying the land, it wasn’t Schmidt, but Arya who led the negotiations. He felt shocked by how fearsome a negotiator the young woman was. She initially proposed only 1.5 million for land that’d been offered at 2.4. As the dyspeptic real estate agent for the sellers argued for more, Arya kept pointing out how the land was practically useless as it was. When the agent said they’d hold out for another buyer Arya told the woman she was aware that there hadn’t been a single offer in the last two months. She postulated that was because industries that might need so much land wanted it closer to highway or train transportation. Eventually, bowing to reality, the sellers accepted 1.7 million—which, to Emmanuel’s great surprise, was to be paid in cash.

  This had him worrying again about illegal, high cash flow businesses.

  They went out to lunch before leaving on the trip back to Charlottesville. After they ordered, Kaem congratulated Arya on getting a price that kept them from having to use their credit line. Then, a few minutes later, while Lee was in the bathroom, he frowned and said, “But, I feel bad for the farmers who’re losing so much through no fault of their own.”

  Gunnar and Arya agreed.

  Then Kaem astonished his father, and warmed his heart, by saying, “What do you think about sending the farmers more money once Staze is back in the black?”

  Gunnar was all for it. Arya said, “I could go for that, but we don’t even know who the farmers are.”

  Kaem shrugged, “I saw their names and addresses on one of the documents on the agent’s desk.