by C B Barrie
He sat enjoying his meal, watching the other patrons of the canteen milling about, finding tables and places for their trays of food. He failed to notice the two individuals who came up to his table and stood looking down at him. As he sensed their presence, he looked up and immediately lost his appetite – standing over him were Ellis and Caplin.
‘Enjoying your meal Holden?’
Caplin looked down to see a balding, pasty-faced individual dressed in a dark brown boiler suit. The man’s light blue eyes were cold and distant and as he started to fork food into his mouth his bottom row of teeth were stained and irregular.
Holden held his gaze, more in surprise and shock than in recognition.
‘What do you want?’ he mumbled as he started to chew his food.
‘Not to want to see you masticating your lunch Holden – we’ll sit down if you don’t mind.’
‘I do mind, goodbye.’
As they ignored his response and sat down opposite him he continued to eat.
‘My colleague Dr. Ellis here has been telling me about your activities, so let us start by my letting you know that I am entirely aware of your disreputable interests. Not only that, I am also aware of the situation regarding Dr. Ellis and his connection with you. I have no intention of being circumspect in this matter so I will make it plain. You have one month to resign your job and disappear. Failure to do so will result in you ever regretting you met me and made the mistake of ignoring my directive.’
Holden had just lifted a forkful of food from his plate and it was halfway up to his open mouth as he heard the last part of Caplin’s remarks. He froze in astonishment and the fork dropped from his hand, clattering and scattering fragments of sausage as it hit the side of his plate.
For a short time he looked hard at Caplin, then he gave a chuckle of incredulity.
‘Get stuffed, you think you can just walk in here like you have and threaten me? You two are the ones making a mistake – I can make life twice as difficult for you as you can for me. Resign my job? Like hell.’
He didn’t like Holden on sight, and as Ellis glanced at him after Holden had spoken he decided there was no other way but to demonstrate his sincerity.
‘If you think it’s an empty threat Holden, you had best think again. We have no intention of having you hand over to your masters every detail of what we are doing in our laboratory. Come to that, we don’t want you telling your squalid pals about anything else going on here in Metlab. Dr. Ellis will no longer convey to you anything to do with our work and you can tell…your principals…that they can strike off Dr. Ellis from their list of contracted agents. I say again, you have one month, and as regards CM, you can tell them that they are not invulnerable either, that we too can get rough.’
Holden picked up his soiled fork and started wiping it with a napkin. He seemed unfazed by what had been said but refused to look across at the two men.
Not getting any further comment from Holden they rose from their chairs, ready to leave. Holden, knife and fork in hand, returned to finishing his meal. For a moment Ellis despaired that what Caplin had said had in no way influenced Holden, but as they turned to go Holden spoke, a distinctly threatening edge to his voice.
‘Don’t get too confident you two; watch your backs. I’m going to make life very difficult for both of you – just you wait and see.’
It was time to go - but neither man looked back.
7
As they made their way back to the laboratory Nathaniel Ellis felt a shiver run down his back.
It wasn’t that the canteen had been particularly cold; rather he looked forward to being back in the higher ambient of the laboratory, hoping the added warmth would counter his mood. His intuition left him anxious about Holden and the potential for disaster. He had only been in the job for a week and suddenly everything looked grim and foreboding instead of the expectation and excitement anyone would feel getting a dream job. Yet, apart from the research outcomes, things had turned against him. He had very little experience of having to engage in the kind of situation he and Caplin now found themselves in - it was as though the sword of Damocles hung over them, and he had no idea if, and when, it was going to fall.
On their return to the laboratory he waited for Caplin to decide the next experimental procedure, instead Caplin took him into the small, fully glazed office, at the bottom of the laboratory. It exploited the free space available after the parallel set of workbenches and equipment stands.
He sat down behind the small desk and watched as Caplin stood by some filing cabinets, his stance somewhat uneasy and it seemed he was taking time to compose himself. At last he turned his attention to Ellis.
‘Listen Nathaniel, we need to move fast. I don’t trust Holden to do as I ordered; in fact I’m bloody sure he won’t. However, I never had it in my mind that he would simply throw in the towel but, that said, we had to try. Given the likelihood that he is going to stir up trouble I need to think about how we are going to trip him up – either officially or unofficially. That aspect I want you to leave with me. In the meantime I think we should leave the experimental stuff for a while and get on with what we agreed earlier - writing. I’m going to start composing the first patent specification; you are to start on the first academic paper. I know you haven’t written one before but you’ve read many typical research papers before and to a certain extent it’s hardly different than writing up your thesis, just pithier. Its introduction, background, literature, method, results, and conclusion. I think we should first concentrate on what would seem a preliminary report – forming the amalgams and identifying dendritic alignment. The next will follow with the problem of purging the mercury and the ability to form complex super hard materials.
‘Finally we’ll get round to a full report on the process apparatus detailing the boil off, critical levels of mercury and the moulding of complex geometries, wire and filaments. Okay with you? I’ll do the patent because it’s something you’ve absolutely no track record or experience in, and they’re a sod to write. You start the first paper and I’ll jog you along as you begin getting into your stride, and when, or if, you get stuck. My PC uses Word for Windows; I imagine its familiar. The printer is on the bookcase over there, it’s on a wireless link to the PC. With luck we should finish in the middle of next week, after which we can relax a bit. Okay?’
Ellis nodded his head and bent down to look for the PC power switch. As he did so Caplin addressed him again.
‘Just one thing Nathaniel, It’s Friday and I’ve got one or two things to get straight over the weekend and if it takes more time than I expect I may not be in on Monday; if I’m absent on Monday just carry on with the paper and, a propos that, try to think of a dramatic title, the referees like something that implies a breakthrough and that’s what we are telling them isn’t it?’
Caplin offered a wide smile and lifted a goodbye wave of his hand. Ellis mumbled a response and waited until he heard the laboratory outer door close. He sat for a few minutes contemplating the term ‘trip him up’ that Michael Caplin had used earlier. He wondered how much tripping up it would take for Holden to desist. For the moment though it wasn’t directly his dilemma. Thank God the weekend was nigh he thought, he could at least get some sleep, assuming he was able to. In any case, it wasn’t an intractable problem according to Caplin – or so he said. All he could do was wait and follow the piper. He had to presume the piper knew where he was going, and yet he had a funny feeling it was unswervingly towards Holden.
Caplin exited through the Metlab’s main doors, turned right and stopped as the car park came into view.
It was coming up to three forty five p.m. and there were already signs of the POETS syndrome infecting the laboratory’s work force. Two cars were already in transit, purring down the exit track with far fewer vehicles still parked, and far more parking bays unoccupied than had been first thing in the morning. It was common for the maxim POETS (Piss Off Early cos’ Tomorrow’s Saturday) to apply and for virtua
lly everyone to contrive an early departure from Metlab on a Friday afternoon. POETS was the ideal pretext for the start of a premature departure and the commencement of an extended weekend. Not that anyone in authority would try to stop it; most of the senior and supervisory staff were guiltier of a rapid exodus than their subordinates. Even Metlab’s director, Henderson, was usually conspicuous by his absence, spending most of his time either at M.I.M.C’s London HQ, or at some seminar or Institute gathering. Few, employed at Metlab, if asked, would be able to describe his appearance, let alone recognise his name.
As he watched the two exiting cars scuttle off home, Caplin saw a figure walking across the intermediate grass strip separating the car park from the laboratory footpaths. Although now dressed in casual clothing the figure was instantly recognisable - it was Holden. As he looked, Holden turned his head towards him and instantly scowled. He refused to be intimidated and as he kept his eyes on Holden the scowl turned to a look of utter loathing. He half expected the man to spit, but instead he simply increased his pace.
He kept watch as Holden pressed the fob on an ignition key and the lights of a pristine Ford Mondeo came on, indicating that the door interlocks had been remotely defeated. Holden was in a hurry and as soon as he was in the drivers seat he fired the engine. The engine hardly had time to pick up revs before the rear wheels were skidding and the car accelerated away.
‘Good riddance,’ Caplin thought, ‘at least I know I’m free of him for a while and if what I intend to do succeeds, it won’t be for just a while, it’ll be permanently.’
He made his way to his own car and followed his usual habit for a Friday evening – home to his leased house in Treen, a take away meal eaten at home and then a return to Metlab. This time however, it was not to do with any covert laboratory work, this time it was for something entirely different.
He slipped through the security barrier with a friendly wave from the night security officer Nigel Pascoe.
Pascoe, thankfully, was now minus his umbrella. The weather had definitely calmed down and was so improved it was far from the hazardous conditions that he had met during last week’s arrival.
Indeed, his trip to St Ives prior to getting home and then returning to Metlab had been swift and trouble free.
Everything he needed had been purchased easily in various St Ives’ hardware stores and he intended to install everything as quickly as possible. All the necessary components and equipment were contained in a stout carrier bag – soon, after his activities, to be free of its contents and much lighter.
He went over his next task in his mind. The only part with any direct risk was the handling and fitting of the filament. In this he had to be careful – especially handling the spool of micro fine amalgam alloy. That definitely promised to be the tricky part.
He parked in a free bay as close to the main entrance as possible and carried the carrier bag around the corner towards the entrance. Pro tem it was the laboratory entrance he wanted, although his ultimate destination was the foundry and smelting unit – the section where Holden worked. First however he had to see the night watchman, Ed’ Rowe. A word in his ear would avoid any difficulties later.
He pushed through the glass doors of the entrance to find the foyer sombre and dismal, the gloomy atmosphere dimly lit by the small night security strip lights. Only the bright light that came from behind the glazed door of the small alcove next to the reception desk showed any sign of life; it was Ed Rowe’s sanctuary that he used when not making his periodic checks around the complex. He gave a sharp tap on the alcove door and it came open almost immediately. Rowe was sitting on a chair pressed against one wall, while to his side a heavily tea stained wooden table bore a kettle, an open sandwich box and a mug of milky tea full to the brim. At the back, against the wall, were what appeared to be sundry tea and sugar containers, while to the front a muted miniature portable television was showing a football match.
‘Oh, Dr. Caplin, did you want me?’ Rowe looked up, completely surprised.
‘No, it’s okay Ed, just wanted you to know I’ll be in my lab’ for a while keeping an eye on an experiment I’m running at the moment. I’m not sure how long it will need so you’d best ignore me for the while – I’ll let you know when I decide to shut down and leave. My lab will be lit for some time but I don’t want you to come in and check on me – not least because the experiment could be dangerous. Okay?’
‘No problem – I’ll stay clear.’
‘Well, not completely Ed, I have to take readings every ninety minutes. When you get to my laboratory door during your rounds you will hear the vacuum pumps working and if you look through the window of my door you will see the incandescent coils operating inside the vacuum chamber. That’s the dangerous bit by the way. Now, I’m likely to doze off between readings so you can do me a favour, as you come by knock on my door to ensure I’m not completely asleep, I don’t want to miss out on my readings because I was unable to stay awake. By the by, when are your rounds due?’
Rowe smiled. ‘Every hour strictly speaking sir, but I can stretch it to ninety minutes if it will help you. With your lights on, your pumps working and the building apparently occupied I doubt we are at risk of a break in. Anyway, its never happened before.’
‘No one will check on you then Ed’?’
‘No sir, I’m responsible for just one employee – me. I check on me and always have. I’m a hard task master.’
It was an amusing reply and he gave Rowe a wide and grateful smile.
‘Okay Ed’, you’ll catch up with me later I presume. Bye for now.’
He probably needed much less than ninety minutes to do what he wanted to do.
For the interim however, he had to arrange matters so that Ed’ Rowe would believe his story about running a controlled experiment that periodically required measurements. It wasn’t that difficult. The experimental apparatus was all contained inside the vacuum chamber and only needed to be apparently operational. That he could concoct by running the vacuum pumps, creating a hard vacuum and then energising the heaters and incandescent coils around each of the two, tubular, ceramic moulds.
He got to the lab’ and as the lights came on he immediately started the vacuum pumps to avoid any delay. He then made a coffee in the back office and when fully refreshed extracted all the parts he had purchased earlier from the carrier bag. These components he laid out on the office desk after carefully moving the PC VDU and stacking all the surface paper work and stationary equipment to one side. Included was a proprietary Lithium ion battery pack designed for cold starting a car immobilised by a flat battery. It was only able to provide 12 volts but for a short time, three or four milliseconds that is, anything up to two thousand Amps. It was ideal for his purposes. A pair of cheap earphones, a portable CD player, some crocodile clips and lengths of red and black soft insulation copper wire completed the arrangement he had previously intended.
Looking at his watch he noted that some three quarters of an hour had elapsed since he saw Ed’ Rowe – if Rowe was punctual, and was to keep to his promised schedule, he wouldn’t appear for another forty five minutes. That being so he had one last thing to confirm – the ability to visualise the winding of ultra fine Stellite wire entwined around a super hard spool and currently nestling in his jacket pocket. He went to the appropriate bench draw and withdrew a portable hand held ultra-violet lamp. It was designed to be a wide band source; infinitely variable between the upper part of the visible spectrum and well into the far B part of the ultraviolet. Laying the wire spool on the bench top, he ran the UV lamp on its battery and began to vary the output around the 230nm wavelength. As he did so he saw the beginning of a shimmering iridescence emanating from the spooled wire.
On increasing the ultraviolet intensity the iridescence became markedly stronger. It was enough, he knew now that he was ready. All he needed was for Ed’ Rowe to knock on his door and then walk on. That would give him all the time he needed.
When at last Rowe kno
cked on his door he emerged from the office carrying a clipboard and a made out he was jotting down some readings. He made sure Rowe saw him and he then turned to the lab’ door and gave Rowe a thankful wave.
Rowe in turn reciprocated and turned away to continue his rounds.
8
He gave Rowe another five minutes to ensure Rowe was as far away as his surveillance required.
He then picked up his components from the office desk and left the laboratory. He made his way back down to the foyer and left the laboratory block by the front doors. He turned left and made his way around to the large extension that constituted the foundry and casting shop. He tried the outer doors and as expected found them unlocked. Like the laboratories and offices they were left open to ensure rapid entry in case of fire, or escape in the event of fire or spillage of molten metals – in every case operatives would need to get in or out of the plant quickly, day or night.
The inside smelled of the pungent residues from hot metals and scale, and although everything was shut down it still gave the impression of how much sweat and grime was involved in the job. It wasn’t in any way a pleasant environment.
As he stood just inside the foundry he could just make out the overhead gantry and lifting tackle used to transport ladles or tip the blast furnace and smelters so as to access the molten metals. The dim light from the overhead strip lights was inadequate for his needs but he used a flashlight to identify the vertical ladder that reached up to the control cab at gantry level. Once up there, it allowed the operative to see down and thereby carefully control any required equipment movements.
Holding the carrier bag by slipping his hand right through the plastic handles, he began to climb the access ladder. Just as his head reached the two side grips, allowing the climber to safely step in to the cab, he stopped. Holding himself steady on the middle rung of the ladder he withdrew the battery wire, CD player, and headphones from the carrier bag and put them on the cab floor immediately inside the cab and against the facing wall. He had already attached red and black wires to the battery terminals, likewise to a jack, which fitted into the power input of the CD player. Now he had two wire ends stripped with frayed wires coming from the battery. There were two similar wires coming from the CD. He then plugged the earphones into the CD Player.
