“Jealous?” Leems waved a hand in dismissal. “He can’t even keep a job. Half his ideas are fantasy—sheer gibberish. And who knows what other troubles he would bring.”
Isaacs thought Leems probably was jealous. Krone had worked his way through a couple of universities, private industry and various government labs, a maverick always on the move, but he had a midas touch. A dozen times during his career he had started a little company on the side, working on some development or other. If the idea worked, Krone would keep a controlling interest, but turn the company over to professional managers and never look back. The scientists he worked with were always suspicious because he made so much money. Businessmen couldn’t understand how he could throw it all over and go back to tinkering in some laboratory or doodling equations.
Krone was a man of great appetites as well as great talent. There had been some trouble getting him a security clearance for one government consulting job, and the case had come to Isaacs’ attention informally through an acquaintance with the FBI. There had been questions of drugs and women, a year or two ago he had taken up with an expatriate Russian of all things, and legal entanglements concerning the proprietary rights to some of his developments. In looking over the file, Isaacs had been amazed to see the number of well- known companies, three of them on the Fortune 500, that Krone controlled, directly or indirectly.
Runyan laughed to take the sting out of Leems’ words.
“C’mon, Harvey. It’s true Paul can be hard to take when he starts ranting. There’s no question he’s a raving egomaniac with a penchant for hiding his ideas until he can spring them on the world. And maybe half his ideas are nonsense, but half of them have some real insight, and half of a lot is a lot.”
He addressed himself to Phillips.
“It strikes me someone like Krone who’s familiar with both theoretical physics and engineering developments might be useful to us.”
Runyan turned to Zicek.
“What’s he doing now? Didn’t I hear he was consulting at Los Alamos?”
“That’s right. He started another company and has a consulting contract with the Lab to explore just these developments I was describing—laser implosion, relativistic beams— both experimentally and theoretically. That’s why I thought he would have a general grasp of the situation that would be useful to us.”
Isaacs saw there might be some merit to the arguments Zicek and Runyan made, but his sympathies were more with Leems. He spoke up. “I wonder whether the questions Dr. Zicek raises, and perhaps Dr. Krone’s involvement, might be of secondary importance just now. It seems that our critical task is to confirm or deny Dr. Runyan’s suggestion. I would like to ask Dr. Gantt whether he has considered the requirements of the proposed experiment. I’m sure your seismology lab at Caltech is well equipped, but I wonder whether you will need any help that my agency or some other government agency can provide?”
“I’ve not had time to plan any details,” replied Gantt. “We’ll want to go someplace that is seismically inactive—away from the California fault system, perhaps Arizona. I might use some help with transportation and some support equipment. I’d like to use an on-site minicomputer for analysis. I have one, but it’s cumbersome to move.”
Isaacs nodded. “We can help with that.”
Gantt continued, “We must, of course, know where to look. From Dr. Danielson’s present data it appears that the activity comes near the surface at about twelve-hundred-mile intervals. The trick is to be in the right place at the right time. You’ve said you can predict the surface location at any particular instant to within a kilometer or so.” He looked toward Danielson for confirmation, and the young woman nodded.
“With updated sonar data, we should be able to do better than that,” she said.
Gantt turned to Runyan. “What gravitational perturbation did you estimate for a distance of a kilometer, Alex?”
“That should give you a fluctuation of a part in a million,” replied Runyan.
“We can do that,” asserted Gantt.
“I’m going to be busy with things in Washington,” Isaacs said, “but I’d like to have someone on the site with you. Would you mind if Dr. Danielson joined you?”
“Not at all,” Gantt replied. “I think her knowledge of the background to this situation could prove most useful.” He smiled at the young woman and got a brief appreciative one in return.
“You wouldn’t mind joining Professor Gantt, would you, Pat?” Isaacs asked.
She thought of her urge to go to Dallas to be where the action was. Nothing would keep her from being on top of it the next time.
“I would like to very much.”
Oho, Runyan thought to himself, now there’s a trip I’d like to make, too. He looked at Isaacs’ stern visage and decided now was not the ideal time to press his petition.
“Excellent,” said Phillips, with an air of summary. “Perhaps we should leave it at that, then. I know Mr. Isaacs has a plane to catch, and I don’t believe further discussion would enhance the situation at this point. I suggest we adjourn.”
He rose to emphasize his decision and watched as the others stood and filed out. He joined Isaacs in the hall and they waited a moment for Danielson and Runyan, who were the last ones out.
Isaacs and Danielson gathered their things from their rooms while Phillips called for a car. They caught a noon flight back to Washington.
They spoke little until the plane was in the air. When the no smoking sign was turned off and the attendants began to move around the cabin, they turned as if at a signal, and looked at one another. Each read in the other’s eyes the special camaraderie of a shared, shocking experience. Impulsively, Danielson leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Surprised and pleased, he patted her hand on the armrest, in what he hoped was a fatherly manner. Danielson leaned back in her seat.
“Wow!” she exclaimed quietly. “I feel like I’m trying to work an idea into my head that’s a hundred sizes too big to fit.” She turned to him. “Thanks for the opportunity to go with Gantt. I really want to do that.”
“You’ve done an excellent job all along,” Isaacs told her. “We need you to follow up.”
“Thank you,” she replied, “but you’re the one who deserves congratulations. I know what you risked to bring us this far.”
The rolling chaos of the serving cart appeared in the aisle next to them, and they each ordered a bloody mary.
Danielson took a sip of her drink, then stared into it, probing on the lime slice with the swizzle stick. “Who would have thought that that faint signal would lead to this?” she asked herself as much as Isaacs.
She turned to him. “You certainly were right about the effectiveness of Jason. What did you think of Alex Runyan? Wasn’t that amazing the way he so quickly drew everything together?”
“That was quite a show he put on,” Isaacs replied neutrally. “We do have to remember that for all his arguments we have no direct proof. Perhaps we should reserve judgment until Gantt performs this experiment.”
Danielson was surprised at his coolness. She shot a sideways glance at him, with a sudden flash of intuition. Was it possible, just possible, that Bob Isaacs was the tiniest bit jealous of Alex Runyan? At the attention he had shown her? She took another sip of her drink. There were a number of things, big and small, to savor about this trip. She added that notion to the list.
Chapter 13
Ellison Gantt glanced at the naked sun high over his shoulder, wiped sweat from his forehead and dried his hand on the seat of his pants. He checked the date on his watch. Tuesday, August 10. Hot in this part of the world. The Jason meeting with the CIA people had catalyzed a week of exhaustive activity. He had assembled an impressive array of seismological data monitoring equipment and made what modifications he could to suit the mission at hand. They had been encamped for two days in this remote part of the Lechuguilla Desert, thirty miles from Yuma, a little southwest of Welton. Despite the debilitating, blistering August heat, they had managed to set up the equipment and to repair the minor damage done in transit. Gantt still marveled at the speed with which the transportation had been mobilized once a suitable site had been selected and the equipment was ready. Isaacs had arranged for an Air Force cargo jet to fly them to the Yuma Marine Corps Air Station, then for a helicopter ferry to this remote site.