“I’ve got a few ideas. I’ll need the full resources of your computers, though.”
“They’re yours.”
“And I’m going to require more men.”
“How many?”
“Thirty.”
“You can have as many as you want if they’ll help bring in that boy. I want him, Trench, I want him.”
The phone clicked off.
Trench leaned back, his face blank and emotionless. He would obey the colonel’s orders only up to a point: he would find the boy, but could not risk capturing him. Even if he were successful, how long could he hold Davey Phelps before the boy’s yet uncomprehended powers went to work? Furthermore, he knew he wouldn’t be working for Chilgers much longer and didn’t want to put a weapon of the boy’s potential in the colonel’s hands. Either way, his own survival was at stake.
So he would find the boy.
And he would kill him.
Chilgers looked up from his desk into the curious stares of Dr. Teke and Professor Metzencroy. The colonel had suspected there might be something in Trench’s report he’d want the two men to hear first-hand and his intuition had paid off. Of the two, Metzencroy appeared more affected by the conversation just piped in through an amplifier. His hands were so jittery that he nearly missed his brow with his handkerchief on at least two occasions. Teke took it all in pensively, at most a glimmer of perspiration appearing on his bald dome.
“All right, gentlemen,” Chilgers opened. “I want to know what you make of all this.”
“Well,” Teke responded, “earlier experiments in secondary stages of Vortex have indicated the possible effect of the energy fields we’re dealing with — high frequency electromagnetization — on the human organism. We have, in fact, noted a number of possible — and I emphasize possible — changes in brain function and body chemistry, up to and including severe neurological imbalances. But to say that this boy’s participation in the tangent stage of Vortex in any way relates to whatever … power he may possess is clearly unfounded.”
Metzencroy cleared his throat.
“You take issue with that, Professor?” Chilgers prodded, hoping he would.
Metzencroy leaned forward and tried to pocket his handkerchief. His trembling fingers almost precluded the effort. “The mind, Colonel, consists mostly of vastly unexplored territory. Some men of science have even suggested that we know more about the outer reaches of space than we do about the gray matter which inhabits our own heads. An exaggeration perhaps, but there is something to be said for the position. If conservatively we understand, say, five percent of the brain’s operating process, its capabilities, what about the other ninety-five? Similarly, many in our field believe we only utilize that same five percent of our brain’s capacity. Again, what about the remaining ninety-five?” Metzencroy pulled his handkerchief from his pocket again and closed his hand around it. “It is quite conceivable, Colonel, that exposure to the Vortex fields has given life to a previously dormant part of this boy’s brain which may explain this strange power he has developed.”
Teke’s round face was drawn into a frown. “It sounds to me, Professor, as if you’re abandoning logic and scientific principle in favor of spirits and poltergeists.”
Chilgers leaned forward. “If spirits and poltergeists could help us destroy the Russians, then I’d be all for them, Teke.”
“There’s something else we must consider,” Metzencroy said hesitantly. “Once any previously unexplored territory is uncovered, in the mind or anywhere else, it tends to expand — that is, grow — as we look for more.”
“The point?” from Chilgers.
“Is that the power this boy possesses is almost certain to grow stronger as more of his brain opens up. He is exploring it now tentatively, unsurely. Once he gains confidence, there is no telling the extent to which he might develop it.”
Intrigued, Chilgers had to bury a smile. “Speculate further.”
“I’m afraid I can’t … not on this anyway.” Metzencroy’s handkerchief found its way back to his brow; then it slipped from his fingers. He was barely able to retrieve it, his hands were trembling so much.
“What else is bothering you, Professor?” Chilgers wondered.
Metzencroy steadied himself. “To continue my analogy of the mind to the universe, several problems are raised. Something has happened to David Phelps which we in no way expected or could have predicted. The mind of one boy is one thing, the entire universe something else again. But in this case they are very much the same, and we must consider the potential ramifications of any future actions we undertake.”
“By actions,” Chilgers concluded, “you mean Vortex.”
“I mean we are dealing in areas we don’t fully understand, areas whose mysteries are not even close to being entirely revealed to us. Ancient man discovered fire only to have it consume many of the trees from which his food came until he learned to harness it.”
“You would’ve preferred that he just left it alone and stayed cold, I suppose,” Teke chided.
Metzencroy held his stare. “The consequences are considerably more than a few trees with Vortex.”
“It was necessity that brought man down from the trees to begin with,” put forth Chilgers.
“And fear drove him back up on more than one occasion,” added Metzencroy.
“I hope all this is getting you somewhere,” snapped Teke.
Metzencroy hesitated. “I want to know what has given David Phelps his new power … and I want to know what caused the bubble on Flight 22 five days ago.”
“Not that again,” muttered Teke. “It was computer flutter, nothing more.”
“Then explain how the computers don’t remember it. Explain how the entire energy-matter field surrounding the jet seemed to blink for a brief instant without cause or explanation. Answer me that, Doctor!”
Teke didn’t.
“The fabric of our universe does not function all that differently from the fabric of David Phelps’s brain. Something has altered the boy’s brain now and if Vortex is moved into final activation, the fabric of our universe might be similarly altered.”
“So we’ll all be running around changing five-dollar bills into hundreds.” Teke chuckled. “Beats the hell out of inflation.”
Metzencroy wasn’t amused. His fist clenched over his moist handkerchief. “The timespace continuum is nothing to joke about, Doctor. We are dealing with forces here that—”
“Will assure us of world supremacy for hundreds of years to come,” cut in Chilgers. “Are you suggesting we abandon Vortex in the face of that, Professor?”
“Postpone it perhaps.”
“Considering the timetable, that amounts to much the same thing, doesn’t it?” Chilgers leaned back in his leather chair, looked at Metzencroy and through him. “I’ve already watched us squander one advantage with the atom bomb and I’m not about to allow the same mistake to be repeated. We’ve been caught in a loop since the Cold War, Professor. We design and design, build and build, revamp and revise. But it doesn’t matter, none of it does, because up till now it’s all been a stalemate. The term first strike really doesn’t exist because the best either side has ever been able to hope for is a simultaneous strike. But Vortex has changed all that. We have a means to break the loop, Professor, and break the stalemate. We’ve been given a second chance to do what we should have done twenty-five years ago but lacked the decisiveness to do. We will activate Vortex on our own in five days to avoid a similar debacle. There’s only room for one superpower in this nuclear world we’ve created where high school students can build bombs out of chemistry sets.”
Metzencroy felt the heat rising behind his cheeks, and was aware that his face was reddening.