There was no way to determine the severity of the bullet wounds, although he knew he was rapidly losing blood. He was beginning to feel faint, cognizant that shock was beginning to set in, but the concussion to his lower back and hip was his greatest concern. He figured he’d hit the ground at near sixty miles an hour, and although the sandy ground had absorbed some of the impact, he knew he had sustained several broken bones.
He managed to stand with great effort, but when he tried to take a step, his legs gave way and he dropped back to his knees. My God, w hat have I done? he wondered, totally incapacitated.
Ryan looked at the sky ahead, ablaze with lights and sirens. He could make out the trailer and noted for the first time that the Navigator had made a direct hit. He remembered bullets hitting the windshield before he set the cruise control and aimed the car in the direction of the trailer just before bailing out. He was amazed it actually worked, but had no idea if he’d helped Jarrod in the slightest. He was disconsolate; a feeling of failure blasted through his consciousness. It reminded him of Jacob. Not again. Just as I failed Jacob, so, too, have I failed Jarrod.
He remembered the day Jacob had died. Ryan had slept on the floor beside his bed the night before, his son’s labored breathing more tortured than ever. He couldn’t bear the thought of Jacob dying alone. He still remembered their last conversation:
“Dad,” Jacob asked, “what happens when you die?”
Ryan had searched his soul for the right words to answer his son’s profound question. Clearly Jacob was scared, but faced his fear with the courage of a lion.
“I don’t know for sure, son,” he’d answered. “But I do know that you don’t have to worry about anything. You’ve been a good boy and you’ll go straight to heaven. You’ll fall peacefully asleep and your spirit will rise from your body and you’ll be whisked to heaven by a legion of angels welcoming you home. You’ll be able to fly, Jacob, and that old muscular dystrophy will never again keep you from doing anything your heart desires.”
“What about you and Mom…will I ever see you again?”
“Of course you will, son. Your mom and I love you more than life itself. You’ll go ahead and prepare the way. Just you wait…we’ll all be together in heaven one day soon, your brother, Jer, too.”
Jacob had survived the night, but Ryan could tell from his pale blue complexion the next morning that the end was near. God was merciful in the end; Jacob’s death came swiftly and Ryan wasn’t present when he began to choke. Unable to catch his breath, he quickly asphyxiated, slumping forward in his wheelchair. Had Ryan been present, the impulse to start CPR would have been irresistible. When the paramedics did arrive, it was too late. Their efforts to revive him were for naught. Jacob died with his little dog, Minnie, on his lap, a loyal friend to the very end.
The haunting despair of this memory and the powerlessness he’d felt following Jacob’s death came storming back. Once again he felt an inconsolable emptiness, as if his soul were mortally wounded and the stabbing pain in his heart would never heal. All his efforts seemed hopelessly inadequate. Ryan hung his head in shame, putting his hands to his face, and began weeping. Why does this keep happening? What do you want from me, God?
“Help me, Lord!” he called out, throwing his hands to the heavens in surrender, coming to terms with his abject helplessness and despair.
Jarrod’s voice rushed him back to reality. “Ryan, where are you, man?”
“I’m here,” Ryan called back, straining, but his voice was barely more than a whisper. He tried to stand again but the pain was too great. He remained on his knees, not even sure if he could lie down. “Jarrod,” he called again with the last ounce of energy he could summon. His body began to tremble at the realization that Jarrod was still alive.
The three cleaners caught up to Jarrod just as he stumbled upon his hapless cousin. They had somehow been thrown together in this strange affair and were treated to one of the most amazing sights any of them had ever seen. Rafie pulled a flashlight from his pants pocket and for a moment they let the cousins have their reunion. It was a moment not to be interrupted.
Kneeling before them was Ryan Marshall-blood oozing from multiple gunshot wounds, unable to stand, tears running down his face, tortured by the thought he’d failed his mission. Jarrod Conrad knelt down in front of him and gently took him in his arms.
“You did it, Ryan,” he whispered reassuringly. “You’re a hero. Through everything that’s happened, you made it here. I don’t know how you did it, but you saved me, you rescued Jer, and you recovered my research. You’re amazing, Ryan,” he said, hugging him like he was consoling a small child. “I’ll never distrust you again. Nono and Nana would be so proud of you. Well done, Ryan.”
Ryan let his head slip forward onto Jarrod’s shoulder and silently wept, overcome with relief and gratitude. His quest was finally completed. He hadn’t failed after all. A peaceful tranquility and lightheadedness transcended his consciousness. Nothing else mattered.
The lights on the horizon were no longer visible and the siren’s wail faded away. The darkness came swiftly. Ryan Marshall closed his tired eyes and gave way to the weariness that beckoned for him to stop. He had nothing left to give. He was completely spent. Thank you, God…take me home, was his last thought.
EPILOGUE
The aftermath of the events at Fort Knox was surreal. The raid on the depository dominated every news source for weeks, and all points of the globe remained spellbound by widely circulated reports of the world’s first antigravity machine.
At first, General Blake Freeman tried to contain sensational reports surrounding the application of this revolutionary technology, but Jarrod Conrad’s discovery was too big to hide. While the military gained a significant foothold in consolidating the weapons capability of Jarrod’s technology, the president ordered that the discovery couldn’t justifiably be withheld from society. When the White House finally confirmed the existence of the antigravity technology, a maelstrom of press coverage broadcast the story to every world government. Most news sources hailed the discovery as one of the greatest achievements of modern man, rivaling revolutionary discoveries like DNA by Watson and Crick, Einstein’s relativity, and Steven Hawking’s black holes and cosmic radiation.
Jarrod Conrad finally realized his dream of world renown for his lifelong pursuit to harness gravity, the fourth fundamental law of the universe. He ultimately published his research in the Journal of Atomic Physics: “The Grand Unified Theorem-Gravity Demystified.” He was awarded the Nobel Prize for his pioneering work in subatomic physics, and Time Magazine declared him Man of the Millennium. For years he basked in the limelight of this well-deserved celebrity.
Just as Alastair Holloway predicted, when the industries of the world realized that gravity had been harnessed, unsolicited offers began pouring into Quantum Labs. Many of the biggest Wall Street corporations sought exclusive manufacturing rights to the device. As the surviving controlling partner of Quantum Corporation, Jarrod amassed incredible wealth in the years to come as his antigravity technology made astounding impacts on every existing technology.
The effect of the F-13 scram on the generator used at Fort Knox was miraculously inconsequential. Conrad’s graduate students eventually perfected the mathematical equations that simulated the parameters of the scram. Their research proved that the critical mass Jarrod had feared was averted by a very slim margin. Never again would this technique be used to halt the machine under full operation.
Jarrod remained a faculty member at Stanford University as Professor Emeritus and taught well into his later years. He spent most of his leisure time in Baltimore, Maryland, with Sela Coscarelli. They purchased a home close to Johns Hopkins University, and although they never married, they enjoyed a close, intimate relationship throughout the remainder of their lives.