Origins (15 page)

“The bottom line is I’m going to be here for the probe launch as well as hookup with the reactor section and startup,” Mark said.  “My NSA clearance pretty much gives me a free run of this place, but not to worry.  I’ll
be a good boy and stay out of the way so your people can do their jobs.  I’m just here as an observer.”

“Grand,” Alfred sighed as he sprang to his feet and walked toward the door.  On the way out he said without looking back, “Your clearance doesn’t need me to show you around then.  Careful you don’t wander into a closet and lock yourself in.  That would just be tragic.”

**********

Away from Mark and Alfred’s conversation at NASA Headquarters, crawler-transporter #2, better know
n as Franz to the workers, was half way to launch complex 39.  There was only two miles left to traverse before reaching the launch facility, but at the blazing speed of one mile per hour there was still another two hours left of the journey.

Resting atop Franz was a three stage Delta II rocket standing thirteen stories tall.  Most Delta rockets only contained two stages, which was sufficient to place an object into earth orbit.  The third stage was used to carry a projectile beyond earth’s orbit.  Inside the nose cone of the rocket was the communications probe that would eventually merge with the fusion reactor stage already in orbit.

Franz’s laser guided leveling system detected a minute shift in the rocket’s angle on the platform and engaged its hydraulic system to compensate and keep the towering rocket perfectly level.  Anything less than perfection by the leveling system and the thirteen story rocket would tip over and demolish everything in its path.

The rocket also needed to be flawless in its construction.  A thousand moving parts all needed to work in perfect concert together at the exact times at the exact angles to ignite the fuel and direct the thrust to place the probe into space.  The Delta II rocket was the perfect choice for the job as it was the most reliable launch vehicle in the United State’s arsenal.  In 150 launches, only once had a lift failed.

Attached to one of the flawlessly constructed fuel lines on the third stage of the rocket was a tiny container no larger than a watch battery.  Diligently following its preset timing, the container opened its lid and released a trace amount of liquid.  The substance immediately began eating away at the coating of the fuel line.

Meanwhile Franz continued on her merry way carrying the rocket to the launch pad.

Chapter 20:  The Neo Scale

In ancient Egypt
, Tomal did not rejoin his companions in the slave quarters after his run in with the labor overseer.  The next morning, a new work group was formed.  Five hundred men were handed stone cutting saws, then led onto flat river barges, and sailed to the other side to begin chopping down the forest.

The day after saw the laying of over 1,000 logs in a row stretching from the quarry to the pyramid site. As if on a conveyor belt, the immense stones rolled across the timbers as a small crew was dedicated to ferrying logs from one end of the road to the other to replace the movement.  Tomal’s idea was working to perfection.  Now it only took 50 workers to pull a stone instead of 500.  In the following days, four more log roads were constructed and set into production. 

Prior to using the logs, a good day saw as many as 100 stones set into position.  After the log roads were implemented, moving 5,000 stones into position was not uncommon for a day’s work.  Soon the limitation was no longer how fast the stones could get moved, but how quickly they could be cut.  To solve this problem, Tomal implemented his pulley and gearing system so only fifteen men were needed to guide a stone into position.  This freed more workers to cut the stones out of the quarry.

The overseer took
credit for the ideas of course, but Tomal was not allowed to leave the man’s side.  He was a part of the inner circle, and the information soon began to flow.

A week later, Tomal asked Hastelloy and the others to join him for dinner in his new private tent to hear what he learned as a valued member of the engineering crew.

“Nofru is really starting to open up and trust me now,” Tomal said with pride.  “It turns out his older brother Neferhotep is the leader of these people.  Legend has it that the gods visited Neferhotep and bestowed an abundance of food upon him. 

“Not only that,
they gave him knowledge to cultivate the land and produce even more food on a perpetual basis.  His tribe then used the riches gained from the excess food stores to increase their power and influence in the region.  Starving people from all around flocked to join their community.”

“I am not sure I buy the gods part of the story, but their tribe’s rise to power certainly makes sense.  Food is power in this stage of Neo scale development, and they definitely have enough food to go around,” Tonwen observed.

“The questions still remain: why is so much time and effort being put into constructing this stone structure, and why are they employing slave traders to scavenge the land for more workers?” Hastelloy asked.

“According to Nofru, his brother is erecting a monument to the gods, one that’s worthy of the great gifts they bestowed upon him.  The problem is even though many voluntarily came and submitted to Neferhotep’s rule, it wasn’t nearly enough for his plans.  In order to make such a grand structure more draconian steps were taken.  Neferhotep’s armies fanned out across the land in all directions and conscripted those who didn’t come willingly into service.” Tomal answered. 

“Ah, this whole thing makes sense to me now,” Tonwen exclaimed.  “Gentlemen, right now we are privileged to witness vintage Neo scale development at work right before our very eyes.”

“Would you care to elaborate on that?” a very confused Valnor asked.  “My aching muscles aren’t feeling all that privileged right now.”

“Well said,” Gallono added while rubbing the triceps muscle on his right arm.

“The monument is just a tool used to accomplish a greater goal,” Tonwen began.  “The way I see it, this project serves four objectives.  First, it gives everyone something to come together as a community to accomplish.  It makes them feel they are a part of something bigger than themselves. 

“Second, the crops have already been planted for this season, so the populace needs something to do. Idle hands usually lead to idle minds, which usually leads to bad outcomes for a ruler. 

“Third, the slaves will eventually be assimilated into the tribe’s population.”

“Hold up, you lost me there,” Gallono interrupted.  “If the soldiers weren’t here, these slaves would be gone in a heart beat, wouldn’t they?”

“I do not think so,” Tonwen replied.  “We are all well cared for, as far as slave labor is concerned.  In case you did not notice, food, and shelter are pretty hard to come by in this region.  Once the labor is done and the whips are put down, I would expect most of these people to stay and form a working class for this tribe.

“The fourth reason for this construction project is when the pyramid is complete word of the achievement will spread.  Then more will come to see the impressive sight and many may choose to stay.  So the true goal of the pyramid project is to increase the tribe’s population because in the next step of Neo Scale development, population will equal power, not food.”  Tonwen shook his head in amazement.  “This king Neferhotep really knows what he is doing.

“If what you say is true, then this civilization will have skipped several stages in the Neo scale,” Hastelloy noted with concern.  “From space you thought these people were in the Stone Age, but now they’re using basic
metal tools, so clearly they are well into the Bronze Age.  By Tomal’s account, they recently jumped to the Agricultural Age.  This population equals power attribute you just described doesn’t come into play until the Imperial Age.” 

“That is correct, sir,” Tonwen replied.

“So you’re telling me these people have blown through the agricultural age in a matter of months, and skipped the trading age all together?  Something’s not right here.  I think this is the first piece of evidence the Alpha are involved here.  The pace of this community’s development and their proximity to the Alpha crash site is no coincidence.” 

“I haven’t seen anything to suggest your assumption is correct,” Tomal protested.

“See if you can get a look at the overall construction plan for this pyramid and figure out where the plans came from,” Hastelloy ordered.  “And while you’re at it, see what goes on at the construction site while all the workers take their mid day break.  I don’t think it’s just so the workers can avoid hard labor during the hottest part of the day.”

“I’ll do my best,” Tomal responded.

“No,” Hastelloy barked.  Tomal’s lackadaisical attitude needed to be set straight.  “Losers always talk about doing their best.  Officers of the fifth fleet get the job done, no matter what it takes.  Now are you an officer or not?”

The resentment in Tomal’s eyes came and went in a flash, but it was there.  “I will get the job done, sir, whatever it takes.”

Professor Russell froze
mid stride when they reached the top of the ramp underneath the Sphinx.  A massive metal door reminiscent of a stout bank vault stood in front of them.  The door was locked tight and was illuminated by a workstation along the far wall.  A closer look at the workstation revealed a palm reader, a voice analyzer, and a retinal scanner.

Professor Russell nudged Alex in the side and teased. “Well what are you waiting for?  Get out your tension wrench and nail file and start cracking it open.”

Alex couldn’t contain a laugh.  “I think this might be a little out of my league.  What the hell is this anyway?  The only entity on the planet possessing the kind of technology and resources needed to build something like this is a government.  Not just any government, mind you, but an extremely wealthy super power like the United States, Russia or China.” 

She took off her backpack and proceeded to walk cautiously towards the workstation.  “Let me take a closer look at the equipment and see if I can find a way to open the door.”

“Careful,” Dr. Andre cautioned.  “Any booby traps in this place will not be some simple spears coming out of the floor, or poison darts shooting from the walls.”

“You watch too many movies, doctor,” Alex responded with a wink and then took a few steps forward. 

When Alex got within five feet of the workstation Professor Russell heard the high-pitched whine of machinery powering up from above.  He looked up just in time to see a small antenna mounted on the ceiling point directly at Alex and fire a bright blue beam that enveloped her body.

“No!” the professor shouted as he instinctively took two steps into the room on his way to help.

Professor Russell’s blood turned ice cold as he watched the antenna shift its aim toward him.  He screeched to a halt and performed his best impersonation of a statue by not moving a muscle; he even held his breath.

Minutes passed in absolute silence as Professor Russell tried to evaluate the situation.  The first priority was the air in his lungs.  He didn’t take a very deep breath so his chest was screaming for more air.  The professor fought the urge with every ounce of willpower he could summon.  He was convinced even the slightest movement of his chest expanding would draw the weapon’s fire.  The situation was life or death; he had to hold it. 

Finally the body’s survival instinct took over and his lungs involuntarily drew in oxygen and rapidly expanded.  The stale air delivered welcome relief to the fire in his chest, but relief came at a high price.  The extra movement was enough for the antenna to refine its aim and shoot its electric blue beam.

The professor slammed his eyes shut and tried to raise his hands in front of his face.  To the professor’s great surprise, the world did not end when the blue light hit.  In fact, he couldn’t feel anything at all. 

Slowly he opened his eyes.  Apparently his hands didn’t have time to reach his face as he could just barely see the fingertips in his periphery.  Alex was about five feet directly ahead with her back to him.  The energy beam from the antenna caused a soft blue glow to emanate around her skin.  The professor focused his eyes back on his own fingers and noticed the same ghostly blue shimmer.

Brian became a little self conscious about how ridiculous holding his hands in front of his face must look, so his brain sent a signal to the appropriate muscle group to lower them.  Somewhere along the neural path that request got lost.  His hands and arms remained in place.  An attempt to move his legs also met the same result.  The blue beam was immobilizing most of his body.

Professor Russell paid attention to his breathing for a moment and was relieved his diaphragm still functioned normally.  He tried speaking but was frustrated to discover his lips would not move.  His tongue was still mobile and that combined with air passing over his vocal cords would have to do.  He tried to talk as best he could but the results sounded like a dental patient trying to speak during a root canal procedure.

“A . . . Alex,” the professor slurred.  “Are you okay?”

“Sort of,” she mumbled back.  “I can’t move anything except my eyes.”

“At least you can breathe and keep your eyes watered,” Dr. Andre whispered from half way down the entrance ramp to the room.  “I am slowly backing down the ramp.  I do not want to talk too loud in case that weapon is also sensitive to sound.”

“Can you safely reach my backpack?” Alex asked.  “There’s a radio in there you can use to reach Frank.”

“I am afraid your pack is at the top of the ramp and in that weapon’s line of fire,” Dr. Andre responded in a trembling voice.  “Besides, I think we are well past simply reaching out to your potty mouthed helicopter pilot for assistance.  It is time to bring in the proper authorities.”

“No.  Please,” the professor strained.  “This discovery is my life’s work.  Everything I have has gone into this.  Please don’t rip it away from me when I’m this close.”

“You are close alright,” Dr Andre said.  “You are five feet away in fact, but you are now paralyzed and can get no closer.  It is over.”

“I refuse to accept that,” the professor protested.  “If Frank is not able to help then I agree we need to involve the authorities, but please give me this last chance.  I am begging you as a professional colleague and as a friend.”

“A true friend would give you the best help available,” Dr. Andre said.  “What good is Frank going to do anyway?  The man is an imbecile.”

“Maybe, but he is useful.  Trust me now.  I have a plan,” Professor Russell assured the doctor.  “Go back to base camp.  Have Frank bring his rifle.  On your way back here stop by a shopping center and pick up four mirrors that are at least five foot by three foot in size.  Make sure to bring enough rope to lower and raise the mirrors in the shafts.”

“I am now at the ladder and on my way down,” Dr. Andre said.  “Be safe my friends.  I will contemplate your request to only involve Frank on my way back to the command tent.  Do not get your hopes up though; I will most likely return with the police, fire department, army,
Jaws of Life, and whatever else I can think of that might help.”

Brian listened to the sound of Dr. Andre climbing down the ladder drift away into silence.  He made his case passionately to the director.  In truth, part of him wanted to see a vast rescue team coming to his aid.  However, a bigger part needed to see this expedition through to the end.  All there was left to do now was wait for Dr. Andre’s return and see who he brought in tow.

“So Alex,” the professor said as best he could.  “We don’t have any beers in front of us but would you mind telling me the story about you breaking into the university server room?”