Aliomenti Saga 6: Stark Cataclysm Page 16

  Fil’s heart skipped a beat. “Time travel.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Which means if we can reproduce teleportation with machines—and we have our own innate abilities to study and model to figure out how—we have a starting point for time travel.”

  Angel beamed. “Right again, big brother.”

  “And remember, Will has to travel from South America to northern England,” Adam noted. “I suspect we won’t build the time machine in future Pleasanton and travel back in time along a fixed three dimensional point. We need to know how to do this.”

  The Mechanic smiled. “Not to mention that a transporter of this type would be invaluable to the world’s recovery.”

  Fil grinned. “I couldn’t agree more. The ability to ship goods and services quickly can only help the recovery. Think of the historical impact of domesticating horses, and then automobiles, and then airplanes. The impact of instant global transport would be immeasurable.” He paused. “So how do we get started?”

  “Let me show you something,” the Mechanic replied. He finished tapping on the screen of his tablet computer, and then used a gesture to project his work as a three dimensional hologram. Numbers and equations filled the air, and the Mechanic swiped at them, moving the display around, until a sequence of numbers glowed back at him. “See that?”

  Angel nodded. “Sure. What of it?”

  The Mechanic circled a small section of the massive set of equations. “Remember that.” He swiped at the display again, moving to a different section highlighted in a different color. “See that?”

  Angel opened her mouth to respond, and then paused. “But it’s… the same thing.”

  “Ah, but not exactly the same thing. And it’s something I didn’t notice or think of until that simple overheard comment.” He circled numbers in the two highlighted sections of the equation. “See it now?”

  Angel’s eyes flicked back and forth, then widened as she clapped a hand to her mouth. “Could it really be that simple?”

  The Mechanic smiled. “Answers are often simple. We simply refuse to accept them. We have a belief that complex problems and challenges require solutions far too complex to see through to completion. Yet in the end, the simplest solutions work best.”

  Fil and Adam glanced at each other. “Can one of you mathematical wizards explain what’s going on?” Adam asked.

  “Sure,” Angel said, grinning. “The Mechanic’s right. The effort to move through time is the same thing as the effort to move through space. There’s only one thing that’s different.” She paused. “Energy. Moving through time takes an amount of energy many orders of magnitude greater than moving through space. The mechanism otherwise works exactly the same.”

  Fil nodded, understanding rippling through him. “By working on a machine that offers the world a chance to teleport, we’re simultaneously moving closer to having the time machine we need to save Dad.”

  Angel patted him on the back. “See? You understand math.”

  “Enough to do my job.” Fil paused. “How much energy will we need for time travel?”

  Angel told him.

  He felt his breath shorten. “That… that’s impossible.”

  The Mechanic laughed. “Nothing’s impossible. We can do things our human teammates would consider impossible. We just dissolved huge slabs of concrete, clearing space without the need for cranes and other heavy equipment. Until they saw that, they would have told us that was impossible without using dangerous acids.” He shrugged. “It’s a lot of energy. But generating it is now just another basic problem to solve. We’ll be fine.” He nodded towards Fil. “I think your energy keg work will serve us well in that regard. It will just need a few minor enhancements.”

  Fil snorted. “Minor enhancements? Of course. I’ll just discharge all of my Energy into a battery and we’ll be good to go.”

  He froze at his own words.

  The Mechanic grinned. “See? I told you it was just a minor enhancement.”

  They laughed, and Fil felt a level of calm he’d not experienced since before the Cataclysm.

  Only one of them could produce sufficient Energy to generate the quantity of energy needed to travel through time.

  His life had taken on added meaning. For without him, the time machine would never enable his father to travel back in time to save his mother’s life.

  XIII

  Transporter

  2140 A.D.

  She heard the rustling of clothing and the murmuring of voices gathering in the main auditorium. It took her back to a time decades earlier, when she’d hidden in a back room, dressed in fancy clothing, dreading the noise she heard. Back then she’d been convinced that those gathering would be witness to a great tragedy, the marriage of her brother to a woman not worthy to call him husband. She’d been wrong then. Terribly wrong. In the years that followed, when tragedy struck, she’d looked back on her years of petty resentment with deep regret. She’d missed out on two years with a woman she’d become proud to call sister. And now Sarah was gone.

  She hoped this event wasn’t the prelude to a similar tragedy.

  She smoothed down the business suit. Fashions changed; she’d lived through this particular business trend twice. Thankfully, high heels had gone out of style a century earlier and never returned.

  She glanced at Fil. “How do I look?”

  “I still would have gone with the pigtails.”

  She elbowed him, but the joke had the desired effect. The stress of the moment lessened. She’d helped him work through his demons, the nights without sleep when he’d drift off only to wake screaming as he replayed the moment his wife and daughter had been slaughtered. He’d never forget it, never wanted to forget it. Now, seven decades later, he could sleep soundly, could recall the positive memories for joy, the negative memories for motivation. When he felt fatigue while helping with the never-ending rebuilding, he’d recall the casualty estimates after his grief had obliterated at least thirty of the greatest population centers in human history. He felt obliged to help better the lives of as many as he’d ended.

  Adam watched from the other side of the stage and looked over. “It’s time.”

  “Break a leg,” Fil whispered.

  She offered a fake scowl in response. She took a breath, set her face in a confident smile, and emerged onto the stage.

  They’d built the auditorium from rubble reclaimed from a dozen buildings that had once stretched to the sky. She didn’t remember the original name, knew only that the city near a large freshwater lake had caught the edge of one of Fil’s Energy blasts. That meant there was rubble available. The new city center was smaller, more intimate, less crowded than its previous incarnation. Plaques showed pictures of the old skyline, retold stories of survival, explained that the convention center auditorium tied the city’s past to its present.

  Fil had avoided looking at the plaques.

  Nervous anticipation filled the space, electricity she suspected the humans in attendance felt. Their claims were audacious, incredible, impossible. Those in attendance were deeply skeptical. But they wanted to believe, to hope, to see the impossible become reality. It was the type of positive experience that these men and women, the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of Cataclysm survivors, still needed.

  Show, don’t tell.

  She moved to the center of the elevated stage and into the spotlight, locating the boom microphones above her head. Video cameras began recording; whatever happened here today would be visible to everyone in the world within minutes.

  She shivered, and it had nothing to do with the chilled air pumped into the room.

  “Thank you for coming. My name is Cherie Silver, and I am the president of Phoenix Technologies.” She paused briefly, waiting for the expectation to build that she’d launch into a canned presentation. She didn’t. “I need two volunteers from the audience to join me on the stage.”

  Surprise flooded the group, and Angel couldn’t help but smile
inwardly. Keep them off guard, do the unexpected, make them part of the proof. Those who experience the technology, who are convinced it’s real, will be the best ambassadors and sellers of the devices.

  After what seemed an eternity, two women joined her on stage, stage left, near a strange looking device. A twin device rested stage right. She asked the two women their names and who they worked for. Both Melanie and Jessica worked for a large international news organization, a development she’d not forced but had preferred. She wanted those involved in the demonstration to have global name recognition. It would bring a degree of trust in the global community they couldn’t accomplish with marketing.

  “Jessica, I see that you’re wearing a beautiful necklace.” Angel pointed at the necklace around the woman’s neck. “I’d like to buy it from you, because I want to use it for a demonstration.”

  The audience shifted. Nervous murmurs filled the air.

  Jessica’s face tightened. “It’s an old family heirloom. Priceless. Unique in all the world. It can’t be replaced.”

  Angel nodded. “It is therefore perfect for our demonstration.” She named a price, and Jessica’s eyes widened; the sum represented two years’ salary. “Consider it insurance. If my demonstration works, you get the necklace back, and ten percent of that amount. If it doesn’t work? Then I’ll have problems and you’ll have a lot of money.”

  Jessica looked nervous, but tempted. The sum was too extravagant to ignore. She unclasped the necklace and gently dropped it into Angel’s hands.

  Angel held the necklace up. “Please zoom in on this, those of you with cameras. I’ll turn it around. I want to be absolutely certain that there’s no doubt about what this necklace is, who it belongs to, and what it looks like.” She held the jewelry still for ten seconds, then rotated it, repeating the process for a full minute to ensure the object was recorded from every angle.

  She turned to Melanie and handed her the necklace. “If you can wait here by this machine for just a moment, I’ll take Jessica to the other side of the stage.”

  Melanie glanced at the necklace, rolling the links through her fingers. “I don’t feel right about holding this.”

  Angel smiled as she led a confused Jessica away. “Good. You’re going to give it back.”

  Angel walked Jessica to the opposite side of the stage. “What are you doing?” Jessica asked. “I… really don’t feel comfortable about the arrangement, to be honest, and in all honesty…”

  “I know,” Angel replied. “You’ll have the necklace back shortly. A special delivery.”

  The audience was becoming bored, confused, and mildly angry. Angel looked out at the crowd and smiled. “I thank you for your patience. We could have scripted that, gotten our volunteers and positioned them ahead of time, but we wanted everyone here to be certain that this is a genuine test, no actors or staged outcomes. I trust it’s clear that Jessica and Melanie didn’t know what would happen when they volunteered for our test, and have no idea what’s coming next. It’s important that everyone knows that what you’re about to see is real.”

  That mollified the crowd just a bit. She walked toward Jessica as she continued talking. “One of the problems experienced in the pre-Cataclysm era was the cost and time required to transport goods from place to place. Humans evolved the ability to walk, then used domesticated animals, ground-based vehicles, and finally air travel to increase the speed of transport. Each improvement reduced the amount of time required to move goods from place to place. It took sailors months or even a year to sail from the western shores of Europe to Asia and back; air travel means that same trip once more takes hours, courtesy of the efforts to rebuild our airports and airplanes.”

  She stopped as she reached Melanie. “How would the world change, though, if the shipping of goods took, not years, not months, not even hours… but seconds?”

  The crowd murmured, considering the ramifications.

  “You’ve all seen the teasers, have read the information we’ve presented. You’re here, I’m sure, because you’re personally intrigued by the idea of what we’ve claimed. Or someone sent you to observe on their behalf because they’re intrigued. Nobody wants to hear about pricing or the costs of production, right? You just want to see if it works.”

  Nervous laughter spread through the auditorium, and Angel could feel even Jessica smiling.

  Angel matched the smile of the crowd. Build rapport. Agree with them. React as they react if it matches what you want them to do. “That’s what I thought.” She turned to Melanie. “You’re standing next to a machine that can transport matter instantly from place to place, from one machine of this kind to another. We’ve set up two machines, one on each side of this stage. It’s not a great demonstration, of course. It’s too close. We could easily just drop the item below the stage, have someone run it to the other side of the stage, and put it in the other machine. We could make this a magic trick and convince people to invest in our product.”

  The crowd laughed, appreciating the humor. Their thoughts revealed that they appreciated her honesty, realized she was taking extra time to provide assurance that the test was legitimate.

  Angel pulled a sturdy plastic device the size of a playing card from her pocket. “So let’s make sure that everyone can see exactly how our magic trick”—she paused and arched an eyebrow at the crowd, and they roared their approval—“is performed.”

  She pushed the button. Platforms rose from either side of the stage, lifting the two machines and the stunned demonstration participants six feet off the ground. Melanie squeaked in surprise. Jessica clutched the machine, as if terrified she’d fall.

  The platforms rested on clear plastic risers. Angel walked behind the nearest raised platform. “All of you can see me, can’t you?” She waved her hand. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

  More cheerful laughter.

  “You still think we’re going to pull off a trick, don’t you?” She nodded. “I’d ask that Jessica and Melanie open the transport compartments now so everyone can see that they’re empty. And… everyone, come up on the stage. Watch everything from here. Make sure there’s nothing in the compartments. Make sure nothing leaves the machines during the test. Watch the clear risers to make sure we don’t drop anything. In fact…” She moved to the nearby riser and pulled open a door. “If anyone wants to stand under the machine during the demonstration, you can do that.” She looked around. “Well? Come on up on the stage so you can see this up close.”

  There was a moment’s hesitation. Then they came, a slow trickle at first, and then the aisles filled with people eager to see for themselves, to be a part of history. They knew that the test was coming, wanted to believe that the claims from this Cherie Silver and her Phoenix Technology company were true, and that meant making certain that they weren’t falling for a scam.

  Angel glanced up at Melanie and flipped off her microphone. “You okay up there?”

  Melanie gave her a fatigued glance back. “I’m afraid of heights, so… I’ve been better.”

  Oops. Angel did a quick Energy scan with her senses. She detected nothing. She wouldn’t sense her Alliance counterparts; they were always Shielded. But there were no detectable Aliomenti in the audience either. She risked a small trickle of Energy, using an empathic push to help Melanie relax in her fears. “Sorry about that. We should have warned you. It will be over soon.”

  “That’s… actually, I’m feeling better now. This is pretty exciting.”

  Angel nodded. She glanced out at the seats in the auditorium. All of them were empty except one. The Mechanic saw her looking his way and offered a brief wave. She nearly laughed.

  Once those approaching the stage had found a spot to stand, she flipped her microphone back on. “Let’s go ahead with the demonstration.”

  She could feel the nervous excitement, the hope that they’d see what she’d claimed possible. “Melanie, please put the necklace in the compartment and close the door.”

  Melanie
placed the necklace in the compartment. The opening was about five feet on a side. It wasn’t huge, but consumer goods would fit inside the transport chamber. The door closed with a resounding thud that rumbled through the auditorium. Melanie tested the handle. “Okay, I’m done.”

  Angel looked across the stage. “Jessica, after you confirm that there’s nothing inside, can you close the compartment door for your machine as well?”

  “There’s nothing in here,” Jessica replied, and the murmurs of assent from those gathered nearby carried across the stage. Another thud echoed through the building. “Okay, the door on this side is shut.”

  Angel raised her voice to indicate she was addressing the crowd, rather than one of the two volunteers. “Right now, both machines are powered down. The machines require large amounts of electrical power to do their work. We recommend leaving them powered down or even unplugged when they aren’t in use. The machines today are drawing power from a dozen of the old electrical kegs produced by the old Trask Energy Company. That’s sufficient for this short distance. That’s something we’re continuing to work on, because the amount of electricity required increases based on the distance the material moves.” She allowed the implications of this to sink in. The cost of electricity would be a major operational cost for running these machines.

  Angel took a step back to provide her with a better viewing angle of both elevated machines and the women who would operate them. “The power button is the large green button on the left side of the machine, near the door. Jessica and Melanie, please power the devices on.”

  Both women pressed the power buttons. The sound of the electrical thrums from the two dozen energy kegs filled the auditorium, and she could feel the vibrations in the stage floor. Between the sounds and the excitement, Angel thought they might be about ready to accelerate down a runway in an old style jet airplane.

  “As a safety precaution, the devices will not turn on until the doors are shut. If either door hadn’t been closed, the machines wouldn’t power up. Opening the door once a transport commences would lead to some serious problems reassembling the transported material.”