“Oh, it is indeed true, Mr. Kelley. We’re not quite sure how involved you are, but since you’re the head of Windward’s Special Projects division, we would surmise that you are fully briefed.”
“Fully briefed on what exactly? Your wild speculations?”
She folded her hands demurely in her lap. “We have international data and voice intercepts of your employer attempting to procure nuclear material from several nations which are not on the best of terms with the United States. I would advise you to drop the false innocence and start digging your way out of this.”
Nathan tried to think of something. Repeated pleas of his virtue would fall on deaf ears here, and staying quiet would do no good, not when this whole operation seemed focused upon turning him into a babbling informant. Unfortunately, there was nothing for him to babble, even if he had been so inclined. He had not done anything, but Stanton and her underlings would never be satisfied with that. He had to give them something, and though Nathan’s thoughts turned at a furious rate, they uncovered nothing. Then he smiled.
There was no lie half so good as the truth.
“Okay. Though I knew nothing about the specifics of what he was up to, I do know that he has been looking for some way to power and arm a spaceship in order to defend the planet from a marauding alien force.” He paused, but she said nothing in return. “That’s probably what he was doing.”
Stanton frowned. “You’ll enjoy extra-territorial rendition, Mr. Kelley. Sun, tropical beaches, four by eight cells, no ACLU or UN interference ...”
“I’m being serious.”
“Spaceships and aliens? That is the polar opposite of serious and definitive proof that you doubt our own willingness to find the truth through whatever means necessary.”
“I’m not saying you have to believe it, and I’m not saying I believe it, even after seeing years’ worth of his evidence. But you do need to believe that Lee believes it.”
“So you’re honestly proposing that Lee is trying to acquire nuclear materials in order to hold off an alien invasion?”
Nathan folded his arms and nodded. “Yes, or at least that’s what he believes is happening. I know this isn’t the first time you’ve heard this. It’s been an internet rumor for years.”
“Yes, I’ve heard it before—the Deltan invasion, but I put it in the same category as Walt Disney’s head being frozen. NASA debunked this whole thing almost ten years ago. It’s some sort of comet or something, right?”
“A rogue stellar fragment that coincidentally happens to be between us and Delta Pavonis, but yes, that’s what they say.”
“Very well, but this also raises the very likely possibility you’re telling me this in order to shield your real activities behind some innocuous absurdity.”
Nathan leaned forward. He felt his two guards tense up in response, but he ignored them. “I’m not lying to you, and I’m not a terrorist. You have nothing on me, because I haven’t done anything. All that you have on Mr. Lee is that he’s some harmless kook with too much money and not enough sense. No one is ever going to give him nuclear materials, and if he did actually manage to buy some, you’d be there to snatch us both up. We wouldn’t be having a pleasant conversation in the back of your über-truck.”
She nodded slightly, though to what part of Nathan’s comment, he could not tell. “And what is your part in all of this, Kelley?”
“I’m building his spaceship, but we don’t have our magic space drive yet.”
Stanton sneered. “I’m going to enjoy interrogating you away from prying eyes.”
“It’s a date, then. I’ll try to bring some flowers.”
The convoy pulled off the highway and into a bank parking lot just outside Virginia Beach. The truck opened and Nathan was unceremoniously shoved out. Stanton leaned toward him from her seat. “It would be ill advised for Lee to continue with his proscribed activities, ludicrous reasoning or not. As a valued and trusted employee, and someone with a noose around his own neck as well, I would recommend you persuade him to cease and desist. This argument is no doubt being made to Mr. Lee himself by my California counterpart at this very moment, but it would not hurt to have you backing up our injunction. I do so hope that we will not be seeing each other again, Mr. Kelley.” The door slammed shut and the five Homeland Security vehicles sped off, leaving him alone in the parking lot with his beat-up BMW.
“Bye.” He walked over to his car and climbed in, one side of his mouth turned down in thought. His suite lay on the passenger seat, none the worse for wear. Nathan extended the screen and scrolled through files. Nothing seemed to be missing, but the access log did show a download of all contents, in spite of the heavy encryption he had bought for it. He grinned a bit, thinking of how confused Stanton would be when the files only confirmed everything Nathan had been saying.
Even if she believed he and Lee were not terrorists, they still would not be allowed access to nuclear materials. Windward as a company had already been denied any legitimate business in atomic energy or weapons development circles, so they could not get what they needed through the established channels. And now they were under surveillance, so they would not be able to get any through extra-legal means either. Lee’s plans now had two insurmountable obstacles: power and propulsion. And even if they somehow acquired a reactor and were able to remain out of jail, there would still be the impossibility of getting into space and out of the solar system.
Nathan was forced to acknowledge that what he had said to Stanton was indeed true: even after spending three years on this project, he was still unsure who to believe. Believe Gordon, his cronies, and their following of conspiracy bloggers that the approaching light was an invading hoard from Delta Pavonis, the Deltans? Or believe NASA and their explanation for the blue light, that it was a large, long period comet reflecting light along a fortuitous axis due to its shape and composition, and that it was neither as far away or moving as fast as Lee’s data seemed to suggest? Nathan thought NASA’s explanation involved a lot of coincidences and hand-waving, but every time he tried to put belief in Lee’s aliens, he seemed to feel the world dropping out from below him.
Nathan shook his head. It was his job to build a space combatant, not to believe in its purpose. He shut the screen on his suite and called up Lee’s home number. He heard it ring, followed by Gordon’s weary answer, “Hello?”
“Hey, Boss. It sounds like we need to have a talk.”
5: “BLUE LIGHT SPECIAL”
July 26, 2039; University of Texas at Arlington, Physics Department; Arlington, TX
The conical array was innocuous—nothing but a six inch diameter, six inch long, hollow, double layer cone of cerium-strontium-silver-sulfate superconducting nanowire mesh and frost covered cooling lines, surrounding a tightly spaced series of toroidal magnetic coils. The cone was held aloft by stout bracing within the accelerator’s target chamber, which lay directly in the path of UTA’s moderate energy electron linear accelerator. The LINAC, essentially a modified injector from the old, bitter days of the Superconducting Super Collider, looked equally cobbled together and home built. This was the sort of place where C average students did third-rate science for the biggest, most apathetic commuter school in East Texas. It was physics hell.
But it was Kristene Annalise Muñoz’s own slice of heaven.
She finished looking over the cone and all its various connections and then closed the door to the target chamber. The wheeze-pop of the vacuum pump started loud but quickly faded to background, and she smiled at her contraption. There were no telltale wisps of gas from the cooling lines. No leaks, everything had held. The chamber had been evacuated and they were ready. She turned to her fellow post-grad student, Leo Buchanan, with two thumbs up, sending both her iridescent purple pigtails flailing about. “Good to go!”