The report from COBRA field operatives told him that Bane had ended up at his girl friend’s apartment early that morning but there was no trace of the boy. Although COBRA’s people would now be following Bane’s every move, Trench harbored only the slightest hope that those moves would lead them to the boy. Bane could lose as many men as Trench put on his tail at will. The Game might have been cat and mouse; it was just difficult to tell which was which.
Trench dreaded calling Chilgers but knew he must. He sat in the back seat of his car and felt himself dozing again before he reached for the phone. He’d have to find replacements for the Twin Bears as soon as possible. It wouldn’t be easy. They were rare finds.
“Any luck, Trench?” Chilgers asked in a typically cold voice.
“No. No leads at all.”
“I want that boy, Trench. I’d have him now if not for your bungled operation.”
“The operation was well conceived. Bane’s presence wasn’t considered.”
“I considered it. It’s why I suggested we eliminate him.”
“I don’t understand why he was tracking the boy. He couldn’t have known about his powers.”
“Apparently, he knows more than we think. Worse now he’s got the boy and we don’t. This whole matter has become immensely complicated. It’s not a simple recovery operation anymore. Holes must be filled, eliminated. I’ve sent for Scalia.”
Trench bit his lip, felt a sudden rush of pain to his head. “You didn’t need him.”
“I needed an equalizer. Scalia makes up his own rules and God knows we need that approach before things get any more out of hand. I’ll brief you on the details when the time is right. We’ll have this all wrapped up tomorrow,” Chilgers said confidently.
The phone clicked off. Trench reached into his pocket for another Percodan. Colonel Chilgers felt strangely calm. The events of the preceding evening should have frustrated, even enraged him. But they hadn’t. He had accepted the report with cool detachment. It was a victory for him, not a loss.
Because the strange power of Davey Phelps was being confirmed more and more with each step. And the power was getting stronger.
The boy hadn’t been born with these intense telekinetic abilities; Chilgers felt certain of that. Something about the tangent phase of Vortex had given them to him. The colonel wanted to find out what.
He leaned back in his chair and let his mind drift.
Imagine understanding and harnessing the boy’s powers …
Imagine training men to use them to their fullest…
Imagine an army of Davey Phelpses …
The power was there to be exploited.
Chilgers was equally certain that the boy was still unsure and frightened of his newfound abilities, which could serve only to hold him back. Nothing would hold back the army Chilgers envisioned.
The Russians wouldn’t have this weapon and neither would the Chinese. Nobody would have one except—
Chilgers leaned forward again, drew his mind back to the present. For now there were other matters to deal with, equally pressing. An obstacle existed that had to be dealt with before any further progress could take place. The Colonel touched his intercom switch.
“Please tell Professor Metzencroy I’m ready to see him.”
“You’ve read my report?” Metzencroy asked before he even sat down, dabbing furiously at his brow.
Chilgers regarded him sternly. “Please take a chair, Professor, and let’s sort this thing out.”
Metzencroy stayed on his feet. “There’s nothing to sort out this time, Colonel. My fears have been confirmed.”
“Since they’re your fears, you’re hardly the right man to handle the confirmation end.”
“Then by all means, retain a second opinion.”
“I already have.”
More dabbing. “When?”
“That is of no concern to you.”
Metzencroy placed a set of trembling hands on Chilgers’ desk top. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead. “Isn’t it? I developed Vortex from the very start. Always I had fears, reservations, but nothing firm. That has changed. The bubble on Flight 22 opened the door to a new and problematical area. I ran tests, I did experiments, and the results confirm what we’ll be condemning the world to if Vortex is moved into its final stage. There is simply no doubt.”
“There is always doubt, Professor.”
“Not in this case, Colonel.”
Chilgers rose and looked Metzencroy square in the eyes. The Professor shrank back from the desk and drew his handkerchief to his brow.
“I read your report, Professor. You’re dealing in theoretical concepts that have never been tested. Yet you remain surprisingly confident of your results.”
“Call it a feeling, if you choose.”
“I do choose, indeed I do. And if you expect me to abort Vortex based on one man’s feeling, well … I have the greatest respect for you, Professor. If I hadn’t I never would have put you at the helm of the most expansive project COBRA has ever undertaken. But please don’t ask me to toss it all away now. We are on the verge of something great here, something fantastic.”
Metzencroy nodded uneasily. “That’s the point, Colonel, we are on the verge. We have yet to cross over into an acceptable margin of certainty. I’ve spent twenty years of my life developing Vortex. I’m closer to it than anyone, and in no way would I want to see it abandoned. I am merely recommending further study and scrutiny.”
“For how long? A month? A year? More perhaps?” Chilgers shook his head deliberately. “Project Placebo is only days away now, Professor, and you will have the missiles ready by that time.”
“Please, Colonel, all I’m asking for is a month to work out the new formulas. At least give me a chance.”
“You’ve had twenty years.”
“I had no means to predict how Vortex would react in bent space in jet-power acceleration. None of our experiments showed any trace of a flutter until the airplane last week.”
“Then you’re basing your entire study on one incident over the course of twenty years.”
Metzencroy nodded. “In science, Colonel, one incident is very often the catalyst regardless of time … for better or worse.”
“You know that Dr. Teke has an entirely different interpretation of your data.”
“Teke is hardly an expert in quantum mechanics and gravitational fields.”
Chilgers leaned forward. “But we have five scientists on our staff who are and they also have all reached different interpretations of your data. Independently, I might add.”
Metzencroy’s lips quivered. “That’s impossible. If I could talk to them….”
“I already have, Professor, and on this issue I am forced to accept their conclusions.”
“Then you plan on proceeding with Vortex as scheduled.”
“Absolutely.”
Metzencroy started pacing madly before Chilgers’s desk. His face flushed and his entire body all at once seemed to be trembling. He looked to the colonel like a man on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He spoke finally through lips that seemed determined to deny the words passage.
“Colonel, we are not speaking of simple bubbles, flutters, or blinks here. We are speaking of the potential of a high-energy mix within the timespace continuum. We are speaking of a bubble a hundred trillion times the intensity of the one recorded on board Flight 22. And a bubble that size could rip a hole in the fabric of our universe that would change every law of physics we’ve come to accept. We are speaking potentially of total destruction. Nothing left, Colonel. Our world hangs in a surprisingly delicate gravitational and magnetic balance, like living inside a balloon. We are speaking theoretically of sucking a pin in that balloon, Colonel.”