Alex Q - The Becoming
Chapter 10

Deep under a mountain south of Geneva, Switzerland, the Giron Collider was undergoing tests in preparation for its first run. Like the Large Hadron Collider close by, its purpose was to accelerate beams of atoms close to the speed of light and smash them into each other, recording and analyzing the short lives of the resulting sub-atomic particles. The LHC was instrumental in the confirmation of the existence of the Higgs bosun, the so-called God particle, which promised to be the key to unlocking the deepest secrets of the universe.

Unlike the LHC, the Giron collider had connectivity with Quadnet to enable analysis in real-time. The energy required, equivalent to ten million lightning strikes, was transmitted down to Earth from a Tesla Converter channeling the output of a twelve square mile solar array parked in geosynchronous orbit high above the planet.

A prominent feature of the GC installation was the mile high receiving antenna designed to transmit the enormous amount energy to thousands of super-cooled electromagnets which accelerate, direct and focus the particle beams circulating in the one hundred mile circular structure.

A complete sub-net was dedicated to the control and alignment of the power transfer during experiments lasting from a few seconds to several days. The first test was scheduled to run for twenty-seven seconds.

Carla sat in her favorite chair, glancing at the TV over the top of her knitting needles. Her mother had taught her to knit when she was a little girl, and she never forgot. She liked the way it killed two birds with one stone – it was relaxing in itself, but it also produced a useful item of clothing. She liked that. Her current project was a scarf. It was for her, of course. Her son would rather die of cold than wear a home knitted woolly scarf.

“Mom, this is way cool. You see this collider thing in Switzerland? It’s awesome! And the power’s coming down from space.”

Carla had no idea what a collider was or what it did, but least he was interested in other things besides games. “What does it do?”

“Smashes atoms into particles; an’ it needs the same power as ten million lightnin’ strikes a second. All this power comes down from space and fries anything in its way.”

“It sounds dangerous.”

“Nah, not really. The air-space is out of bounds for miles around, and Quadnet guides the beam. Jimmy Peters at school read it can make black holes. I’d like to see that.”

“So would I,” Carla said, trying to recover a dropped stitch and not really listening.

Boyd flipped his phone closed. “Your actions were clumsy, Agent Alders, very clumsy. I wished to detain Dr Taylor Senior, not eliminate him.”

“I misunderstood your intention, sir.”

“We are nearing the critical point of the project. I was hoping to secure his son’s cooperation a little longer.”

“I am not sure how far his cooperation extends. He seems to have little more than disdain for the agency and obviously suspects our motives.”

“Yes, but he is driven by a powerful curiosity. Nonetheless, once he learns of his father’s death, he will be more difficult to control. You will engage tonight.”

“As you wish.”

“Where are they currently?”

“They are eating at a restaurant nearby. We have agents monitoring their activities outside the facility at all times.”

“After they return, they will not be allowed to leave again. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

Karen reached for Nate’s hand across the table at Steve’s Retro Diner, a salute to 1960s style eateries. He surveyed the street before turning to face her. “It’s a helluva thing to grieve in public, knowing you’re being watched by the same people who killed him. Christ, Melissa must be devastated.”

“I can only imagine what you’re going through.”

“Dad and I were not incredibly close, you know, but he was my father. It’s a punch in the gut, no mistake. It’s hard keeping control, knowing what I know, but it’s vital they don’t suspect we can speak to Alex in secrecy. Truth is, I’d like to rip Boyd’s throat out. So much for my elevated education.”

“Do you want to go home and take it easy?”

“No, Karen, I don’t. I need to take some action and work out how to stop these bastards from getting what they want, if it’s only for dad. Let’s talk. We might not get another chance. That’s why I chose this place. It’s got no connectivity. They know where we are but can’t hear us.”

“If they want to use Alex to access the Sino-Russian net, there’s a lot at stake here. Attack their web and you might as well declare war, the response would be the same. We’re looking at a world war if this thing goes wrong. Question is, can we do anything about it?”

“We can damn well try,” Nate said, and then more softly, “There’s a lot happening, but I just want to tell you how glad I am we got together.”

“So am I, Nate, so am I. Do you have a plan?”

Nate sat back and picked at his salad. “I wish I had. Fortunately, we’ve got the biggest brain on the planet working with us.”

“If we ever get to talk to him in private again. Alders is sure to be watching us closely now.”

“Yeah, Alders. That’s another question. What’s he here for? I don’t go for Boyd’s explanation. ‘Here to learn’, my ass. He’s got a bigger part to play, but I can’t figure out what it is.”

“We have to wait for an opportunity. Try and eat before we go back. Something will come to us, Nate.”

They returned to find modifications had been carried out in the Cybertronix entrance lobby. The nameless security guard was gone, and so was his desk. In his place was a smooth gray wall surrounding a single steel door, which slid open obediently after their faces and retinas were scanned. A featureless voice asked them to speak their names.

The military encrypted tri-level I.D. system was monitored by Quadnet sub-routines and therefore impossible to bypass or defeat. Each corridor entrance and the elevator door was protected in the same way: they all opened except for the last one. The research laboratory door remained stubbornly closed.

“Nate Taylor,” he repeated with no response. Boyd’s calm voice seemed to materialize next to his ear, emanating from the newly installed speaker system.

“Could you both please join me in the cafeteria. I have news.”

“Think he wants to buy us a coffee?” Nate asked.

Boyd stood to greet them. “Please take a seat. It’s much less formal here, don’t you think? I would like us to be friends, if at all possible.”

“That’s not likely,” Nate replied.

“As you wish. After we met this morning, I made inquiries as promised. I’m afraid I have some bad news, and I am sorry to have to be the one to tell you, but your father has met with a road accident. Unfortunately, he didn’t survive.”

Nate took a step towards him but was stopped short by Karen’s grip on his upper arm. “Oh, Nate. You had a feeling something was wrong this morning.”

“The car did not stop, and there were no witnesses. The police are trying to track the vehicle, but they do not hold out much hope.”

“What about traffic surveillance video records?” Nate felt like he would explode.

Boyd’s smile slipped momentarily. “Unfortunately, there was a glitch in the system, and for the period of time covering the accident the cameras were not functional in that locality.”

“Are your sources sure it was an accident?” Karen asked.

“I have considered the possibility that information may have been leaked and Dr Taylor’s death perpetrated by a foreign actor.”

Nate couldn’t believe his ears. The person directly responsible for his father’s death was blaming the Russians. Does nothing ever change with these people? “Foreign actors. You don’t mean a Russian theater company?”

Boyd’s smile was bleak and cold. “We have converted the fourth floor into living quarters where you will reside for the duration of the project. We consider it essential. It is the only way we can guarantee your safety.”

“And our cooperation.”

“My dear Dr Taylor, we are all on the same side here. You are doing a great service for your country, which will also undoubtedly bring enormous benefits for mankind as a whole.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’d rather sleep in my own bed.”

“I insist,” Boyd said with finality.

“When can we talk with Alex again?” Karen asked.

“My superiors would like the full report by tomorrow evening, so let us assume tomorrow will be your last free session. For the rest of today, we are making certain … tests. We would also request that Alex communicate with us directly.”

“If Alex does speak to you, what happens to Karen and me? You wouldn’t need us anymore.”

“I assure you that we hold your expertise in the highest regard. In the event we cannot communicate directly with Alex, you will be retained under the Emergency Powers Act to act as facilitators.”

“And if Alex agrees to communicate with you directly?”

“You will be free to return to your normal lives.”

In Switzerland, technicians finished the final checks before the countdown to the first test run of the Giron Collider. Powerful pumps circulated liquid helium through the electromagnet cores to maintain the optimum super-conductivity temperature of absolute zero. The helicopter crew confirmed antenna integrity visually.

In the Control Room Mac Jones, Project Manager, coordinated the activities of the section heads and thousands of supporting personnel as they prepared for the historic occasion. Mac hit the comm button on the central console, as he glared at the flashing orange light on the room-wide graphic display representing the collider. “Jack, check out the temperature fluctuation on section 8B. If it turns red, we abort.”

“I’m on it, Mac.”

“I’m bringing the power transfer sub-net online,” Mac said before changing over to the site-wide public address. “This is what we’ve been working for, people. Do your jobs, and in sixty seconds we’ll be making history. It couldn’t have happened without you. However it goes, I thank you.”

At the end of the countdown, an invisible beam of energy ionized the upper atmosphere below the Tesla Converter, punched through the dense cloud cover miles below and connected with the GC antenna. Mac watched the power display climb rapidly to forty-five percent and hold steady.

The project clock counted twenty-five of the twenty-seven seconds scheduled for the initial test when without warning the power level shot to eighty percent, an amount of energy never transmitted before in the history of the Tesla Converter.

Mac and his team sprang into action, but punching the abort buttons had no effect. The energy scale was logarithmic, with each incremental increase ten times greater than the previous level. The amount of power transmitted in two seconds was enough to meet the energy requirements of the city of Chicago for more than three weeks.

After twenty-seven seconds, energy levels receded to zero. It was so quiet Mac swore he could hear himself blink. The central display board blanked out and the collider representation was replaced with a screen that should have shown the trajectories of the particles created when the two beams hit head-on in the Collision Chamber. The display was empty.

“Chief, check the Collision Chamber display feed. The screen’s blank.”

“It’s good, Mac.”

“What in the world— Wait, what’s that? Jack, zoom factor ten and give me actual readouts.”

“I confirm the readings, Mac. There’s nothing in there. No particles, trajectory paths. Nothing except a sphere of black space. Its diameter is one micron and growing. Two microns, four, eight, sixteen ̶ ”

“My God! Bring the Tesla Converter back online, thirty percent continuous running. Chief, re-direct all power to the Collision Chamber containing magnets. Do it now!” Mac shouted.

The lights dimmed as the energy stream came back online.

“Thirty-two, sixty-four ”

“Increase converter power to fifty percent.”

“One twenty-eight. One twenty-eight. Holding at one twenty-eight micron, Mac. What’s going on?”

The Project Manager slumped back in his seat and wiped the sweat from his brow.

“Get me the Pentagon, Code Orange. We just created a black hole.”

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