‘I saw a program about the new Mars cargo vessels. They’re going to use lunar-based lasers to push light sails.’
‘Correct, but the technology is still not feasible over great distances. Let’s say you were one light-year from Earth and wanted to make a course change. It would take two years just for the new commands to be radioed to ground control, received, and sent back.’
‘So what’s the solution?’
‘The solution is twofold: First, find a source of energy that is already in the vacuum of space; second, discover the means to manipulate the coupling or connection between mass and space-time.
‘Back in 1948, a Dutch physicist by the name of Hendrick Casimir completed an experiment using two metal plates. When brought close enough together, the plates attracted each other, revealing the presence of energy within the vacuum. The Casimir effect, as it was later named, was defined as zero-point energy-the random electromagnetic oscillations left in a vacuum after all the other energy has been removed.
‘Exactly how much energy resides in space is unknown, but many scientists now believe that before the Big Bang, the conditions of the universe were very similar to those inside a black hole. At minus 273 degrees Celsius, or absolute zero, molecular motion ceases. Zero-point energy doesn’t cease; in fact, it may have been so intense that it actually triggered the Big Bang, creating the universe as we now know it. Even though we can’t see it, space is, in fact, a sea of zero-point energy, so-called because it is everywhere and balanced to apparent zero. If we were to place a glass vase in a vacuum, the energy would cause it to wobble but prevent it from falling over since the energy would be rushing at it from every direction, neutralizing the effects. If zero-point energy does exist out there, and we believe it does, then there is more than enough energy in the volume of a cup of coffee to evaporate all of Earth’s oceans.’
‘That’s some cup of coffee.’
Dr. Mohr smiles. ‘Yes it is. Our challenge lies in organizing these multidimensional spectrums of energies simultaneously. According to Einstein’s theory of relativity, the speed of light is the limiting velocity for all ordinary material particles. Tardyons-particles having nonzero rest mass can approach the speed of light but can never achieve it, or their masses would become infinite. At the same time, luxons-particles with zero rest mass, such as photons and neutrinos, must always travel at light speed in a vacuum.’
The rocket scientist points to the starship’s engines. ‘The inverse of tardyons are tachyons-theoretical subatomic particles that can only travel at speeds exceeding that of light. What I believe we’re looking at here is some type of hyperdrive system that channels tachyon energy.’ Mohr turns to Jacob. ‘So, Professor Gabriel? Am I right?’
Jacob grins. ‘There was a young lady named Bright, whose speed was far faster than light. She went out one day, in a relative way, and returned the previous night.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘What your brother means is that if you can move faster than the speed of light, you could theoretically travel back in time, potentially causing all sorts of paradoxes.’
Immanuel turns to his twin. ‘As in… a time loop?’
‘Shh, don’t interrupt,’ Jacob says. ‘Okay, Doc, you’re stumbling along just fine, now see if you can tell me how this hyperdrive concept of yours works.’
Dr. Mohr points to the wasp’s nest of charred, afterburner-shaped housings, each orifice no less than thirty feet in diameter. ‘Once in orbit, those housings open, allowing a tachyon stream to pass through. The Balam ’s computer regulates course and speed by widening or shunting off the openings in different combinations. The lower the tachyon stream’s energy, the faster the ship would travel.’ The scientist smiles. ‘So? Did I pass?’
Jacob’s communicator flashes on, interrupting them.
It’s Dominique. ‘Jacob, dinner’s ready. I want you and your brother home now, please. And tell Dr. Mohr that his wife called, and he’d better get his rear end in gear.’
Dave Mohr checks his watch. ‘Oops, abort, abort. I’ll see you boys tomorrow morning.’
Immanuel watches the wiry scientist hurry toward the exit. ‘He seems to know an awful lot about this spaceship.’
‘He should,’ says Jacob. ‘After all, he once piloted it.’
‘Huh?’
Jacob turns to face him, his piercing blue eyes suddenly dead serious. ‘The time loop, Manny. When the cataclysm strikes Earth, Dave Mohr will be one of the scientists selected for Mars Colony. Only he’ll never make it, his ship and several others caught within the gravitational forces of the wormhole.’
‘Dr. Mohr was on Xibalba?’
‘Yes. Fortunately, he and a few other members of the brotherhood managed to escape before the Abomination took over.’
‘Whoa, wait a minute… are you telling me Dr. Mohr was a… a Guardian?’
‘Was, and will be again, unless we return to Xibalba and succeed. He doesn’t remember it, but Dr. Mohr was once the great Mayan wise man, Kukulcan.’
South Beach, Florida
The setting sun has turned the Atlantic Ocean a deep magenta.
Lauren remains hidden in the shadows of an alleyway another five minutes before crossing A-1-A to the row of private beach garages. She quickly locates the facility belonging to the Peacock family and enters the access code.
The aluminum panel opens, revealing motorized water skis, lounge chairs, and a canary yellow three-wheeled dune buggy, its fiber-cast hull more boat than car.
Lauren climbs inside the two-passenger open cockpit of the Amphibian. Powering up the engine, she guides the vehicle out of its garage, then bounds over the grass dunes and sand, straight into the ocean.
Waves lift the buoyant vessel away from the silt. Wheels retract. A forward ski moves into place beneath the pointed bow, a rotary-driven propeller dropping beneath its stern.
Lauren guns the engines. The wind howls in her ears as she races north, bouncing along the surface at fifty miles an hour, heading for Cape Canaveral.
Hangar 13, Kennedy Space Center,
Cape Canaveral, Florida
Roasted turkey. Stuffing. Sweet potatoes. Freshly baked rolls.
Immanuel is stuffed. He lays his head back against the violet cushion and belches.
‘That was nice.’
‘Sorry, Ma, but that was the best meal I’ve had in a long time. How long it take you to synthesize it?’
She shoots him a harsh look. ‘I cooked it. That was real turkey, not that synthetic soy crap laced with flavoring and chemicals. If you want to get your dailies, take them the old-fashioned way.’
Grand Master Chong enters, a look of concern on the old man’s face. ‘Jacob, come please. Your brother, too.’
Dominique feels the blood rush from her face. ‘What is it?’
The monk shakes his head. ‘We have guests.’
Atlantic Ocean
8:56 p.m.
Lauren eases back on the Amphibian’s throttle and turns toward shore, allowing the two-man boat to settle in the swells.
She stands in the open cockpit and stretches, her buttocks numb. She has been following the Florida coastline for three hours. Exhausted, cold, and sore, she has been questioning her own sanity for most of the trip.
Glancing down at the control panel, she quickly verifies her position on the LED computer screen.
The old Cape Canaveral lighthouse is a half mile north. Just ahead is the immense building she had seen from the NASA causeway only days earlier.
Days? Seems more like years. Okay, if you’re really going to do this, then do it…
She accelerates behind a cresting wave and rides it into the beach, activating the amphibious switch.
As the jet ski rolls forward onto the sand, three tires rotate into position beneath the chassis, instantly converting the seacraft back into a landrover.