“About what?” Bill pressed, knowing it was probably useless.
“The ardass will explain,” Tchar said as he engaged the gears and screamed out of the gate area.
Bill held on for dear life as Tchar jetted out of the facility and towards a range of mountains across the vast salt plain. Like Groom Lake the Adar gate facility was placed as far away from civilization as possible, probably for the security of their world. Bill wished they could do the same on Earth. But the Chen Generator was still spitting out bosons. They’d started moving and linking them finally and he could see a time when there’d be a market for them. Instantaneous transportation was finally here. All they had to do was keep it from linking off-world. Sooner or later the Dreen would find a secondary route of attack.
They drove up to the mountains and as they approached, doing at least two hundred on the flats, Bill saw that there was a large building set into the ridgeline. It was low and apparently made of concrete. More like a bunker than a home but he suspected that was exactly what it was.
Tchar slowed as they approached and then hit the long drive up the ridge still doing around a hundred. Bill managed to hang on through the bump and lift as they entered the drive and then Tchar hit the brakes, throwing him forward.
“Next time, I drive,” Bill said.
“The controls are ill-suited for humans,” Tchar replied, gesturing for him to enter a doorway in the side of the bunker.
They descended three levels to a heavy security door guarded by two of the Adar soldiers. Then through a series of corridors to a small room that Bill was pretty sure was on the back side of the facility.
“Please sit,” Tchar said, gesturing to a human desk chair at the Adar-sized table. “Would you care for refreshment? We have water and your human Coca-Cola. It seems that your caffeine is similar in chemical composition to our gadam and has the same effect. Indeed, caffeine seems stronger. Further, your Coca-Cola is processable by we Adar. It has become something of a hit on our world.”
“Leave it to Coke,” Bill muttered. “Just wait until McDonalds figures out your food. But, no, I’ll just wait.”
“It should not be long,” Tchar said, stepping out of the room and irising the door closed.
Bill pulled out his PDA and brought up a set of news articles he’d downloaded before coming to France. Unsurprisingly, the incidence of terrorism, in Israel and internationally, had dropped to nearly zero. Most of the mujaheddin types that were serious about the “cause” had been turned into Dreen fodder over the last few months. Now, there was a real dearth of mujaheddin willing to fight the Dreen these days, no matter how much money got thrown at them. Heck, there appeared to be a real dearth of mujaheddin left, period.
Saudi had been the first country to ask the U.S. to help and, as Miller predicted, they ended up using nukes. Iran was still trying to convince themselves they could handle the infestation but there was no effective control left in Lebanon. The “refugees,” multigenerational residents in any sane world, that lived in the area of the Dreen infestation had become real refugees as the Bekaa Valley slowly got covered in the Dreen fungus. The so-called government of Lebanon, which had been controlled entirely by the Syrians, had more or less packed up and left. The country was a total mess. Nobody knew who was in charge and the civil war had broken out again in earnest, but this time with people fighting to get away from the Dreen. The spread was heading in the general direction of Israel and Weaver was pretty sure when it got to be a threat to that country they’d nuke it and let bygones be bygones.
The big question in everyone’s mind was if the Dreen could come at the Earth from space. And that had led to a new space race, but an international one. It wasn’t going very well in Bill’s opinion; NASA was still in charge in the U.S. and NASA couldn’t get its butt out of gear to save the Earth. But enough money was getting thrown around sooner or later some of it would stick to good ideas. But they were still playing with chemical-powered rockets and that wasn’t going to do it if the Dreen were interstellar capable.
There were a bunch of theories about FTL out there, some of which might work. Bill had pretty much planned to use his influence and knowledge of boson physics to form a start-up. There had to be a way to use the bosons to power a ship, maybe even an FTL ship. Something better than chemical rockets.
He flipped over to another screen and was doodling equations when the door opened and Tchar and the ardass entered.
Bill stood up and half bowed to the ardass, who he now realized was something like the World President. The ardass apparently didn’t notice, simply taking a seat on one side of the table as Tchar settled at the end.
“We have a device,” Tchar said, whistling tonelessly for a moment. Bill suspected it was a throat clearing. “We found it on an abandoned world. It appears to be of an ancient technology. We have, thus far, performed a few experiments with it and been unable to determine its purpose. We know it releases energy, in excess of input, but we are unsure why. Simple energy release does not appear… rational.”
“Energy in excess of input sounds great,” Bill said, frowning. “I can think of any number of reasons you’d want that.”
“Not the way this releases energy,” Tchar said, pulling papers out of a pouch. “These are our experimental findings. We have had them translated into English. It has been recommended that you, personally, be given the device to continue the experiments.”
“Well… thanks,” Bill said, glancing at the ardass and then away. “But if you guys…”
“You have touched the face of God,” the ardass said, quietly. “You are worthy. May your travels be honorable and increasing in knowledge.” He nodded at Bill, then stood up and walked out.
“I would suggest you read the briefing papers carefully,” Tchar said, standing up also.
“How big is this thing?” Bill asked. “Can we get it through the gate? What’s it look like?”
“All of that is covered in the papers,” Tchar said, waving at them. “But you can get it through the gate, easily. You have an expression in your engineering, a ‘little black box,’ yes?”
“Yeah,” Bill said, puzzled.
Tchar reached into another pouch and removed… well it looked like a black deck of cards. Or a card-sized “monolith” from 2001. He set it carefully on the table and then slid it across to Bill.
“Do not let it be in contact with significant voltage,” Tchar said, whistling again. “That would be… bad.”
Bill picked up the black box and looked at it. As an anomaly it was classic.
“This is it?” he asked, incredulously.
“May your journey of knowledge be more fruitful than mine,” Tchar said, gesturing at the door. “A guard will conduct you back to the gate.”
After reading the briefing papers, carefully, they had chosen to conduct their first test on a deserted world connected to one of the gates. Bill still couldn’t believe his eyes as he looked across the ten-mile-wide crater.
“Yep,” Warrant Officer Miller said, leaning sideways on his four wheeler to spit. “Putting a charge on it sure causes one hell of a bang.”
“A double A,” Bill said, shaking his head. “A friggin’ double A. I hope like hell nobody every really figures out this technology or kids will be making hundred-megaton nukes for sixth-grade science class.”
They rode down the side of the newly formed, and quite warm, crater with Bill keeping a careful eye on the mounted Geiger counter. But there was, effectively, no radiation over background. The explosion had blasted material into space, but with no evidence of a nuclear explosion. The ground wasn’t even glassed.