Kai Wohler watched Donald Stephenson walk off the stage as the auditorium erupted around him. Everyone seemed to be talking at once. It was like an American sports bar on Super Bowl afternoon, during those endless hours before the game when sportscasters droned on and on with pregame minutiae. As the fans drained mug after mug of draft beer, the volume of conversation varied inversely with sobriety.
Reaching for his cell phone, Dr. Wohler suddenly remembered he didn’t have it. This was a classified building: thus he, and every other member of the audience, had dropped cell phones and other such devices in rows of small lockers outside. One thing for certain, security or no, as soon as this crowd exited the building, the secrecy surrounding this anomaly was coming off. Now that this many people knew that Dr. Stephenson regarded the black hole as a certainty, it would be minutes, not hours, before word leaked to the press. Before that happened, Kai would break the news to his beloved Karina, more gently than she would get it from TV’s breathless talking heads.
Trying to make his way to the aisle, he found himself crammed between people, unable to move. Apparently there was some sort of jam up at the top of the steps leading to the auditorium exit.
Suddenly the microphone squealed, then several loud puffs of breath echoed through the speakers as someone blew into it. Kai turned to see Dr. Louis Dubois standing at the lectern, microphone in hand.
“Attention please! Everyone! Can I have your attention?”
All heads spun to look at the respected scientist, former chief of the ATLAS project.
“May I please have some quiet?” Dr. Dubois lowered his voice slightly, the effect silencing the auditorium.
“I’m afraid I have an announcement that will be a bit disruptive to your schedules. Due to the sensitive nature of the information you have just received, we have assigned you all temporary cubicle office space within this building where you will work until we have all finished our review of Dr. Stephenson’s analysis and recommendations.”
The crowd volume bubbled up again, but Dr. Dubois continued.
“By order of the leaders of the European Union, in agreement with the United States government, this facility is on lockdown until our task is completed and government leaders have made a decision. NATO military forces have completely secured the perimeter and no one will be allowed to enter or leave any LHC area until further notice. You should know that a news story has just been released stating that the LHC has suffered a toxic containment breach and has been quarantined until the situation has been resolved. Nearby communities are being evacuated as I speak.”
Once again the crowd raised its confused voices, causing Dr. Dubois to speak louder.
“As you are released from this auditorium, you will be given a package specifying your cubicle number as well as a building map to help you find it. Please report to your cube as soon as possible. There you will find a complete copy of the material Dr. Stephenson has provided. In addition, each cubicle has its own laptop, connected to our internal, classified network for your work, but there is no external Internet connection.
“Along one side of your cubicles, you will find a cot and a small bag of assorted toiletries. Shower facilities are available on each floor and are marked on your building map, along with restrooms and fully stocked break rooms. Most of you are already familiar with our first-floor cafeteria.”
Dr. Dubois paused, letting the room settle into a stunned silence. “Despite what Dr. Stephenson said, I have worked with most of you for years and I know you to be the best of the best. The sooner we finish this task, the sooner we will get to go home to see our loved ones, the sooner we will be able to begin the work to save our planet. Now, make me proud.”
Then Dr. Dubois turned and walked off the stage, heading in the opposite direction from that taken by Dr. Stephenson.
Having made the tough decision, Mark led Heather and Jen up onto the porch for their daily predawn briefing with Jack and Janet. The cool morning air had an extra bite to it, the first hint of Bolivian winter just enough to raise the gooseflesh on his bare arms.
Jack stood watching them come, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand. On the table in front of Janet, the pot sat invitingly close to three more brown ceramic mugs. Mark filled all three mugs, then lifted his slowly to his lips as he straightened. The aroma matched the hot liquid’s taste, strong but smooth. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then turned to face their trainers.
“We’ve got something to tell you.”
“I’m listening.” Jack’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Mark didn’t take that as a good sign.
“Last night we contacted our folks via a subspace video-chat link.”
Neither Jack nor Janet showed any sign of surprise. Nor did they speak, letting the silence hang heavy.
Mark was relieved when Heather’s steady voice filled the vacuum. “We didn’t ask permission. And we don’t make any excuses for what we did. We knew the risk, but we did it anyway.”
“We know we put you in danger, too,” Mark said, trying to give Heather some cover, “but that doesn’t mean we regret it.”
Once again the silence descended, finally broken by Jack. “Can’t say I’m surprised. Janet and I knew you’d make that call sooner or later. We had a small wager about when it would happen.”
Mark didn’t know whether to be irritated that they were so predictable or happy that they’d avoided a reprimand.
A hint of a smile creased the corners of Janet’s mouth. “I won. Jack didn’t really think you’d last this long.”
Of course he hadn’t—and he’d almost been right.
“So,” Jack said, “Finish off your coffee, grab a bite to eat from the kitchen, and get ready. You’ve got a full schedule today.”
“And what if they find a way to trace us?” Mark asked.
Jack shrugged. “I assume you took the proper precautions. Besides, the only thing you can be sure of in this life is that sooner or later everything goes wrong. Whether because of this or something else, they will eventually find us. It’s why we constantly rehearse our reaction drills.”
“I don’t know why they have to find us,” said Jennifer. “Lots of criminals and terrorists have managed to stay below the radar.”
“Apples and oranges,” Jack replied. “There are two kinds of people in this world: sheep and wolves. The politicians who lie hidden in holes aren’t wolves. They’re sheep, sending their wolves out to make things happen. Janet and I are wolves. It’s what we’ve trained you to be.”
Janet glanced at her watch. “You three better hustle. You’ve only got eight minutes to scarf down some breakfast before we hit the firing range. Today you get to shoot the fifty-caliber sniper rifles and M2 machine guns. Anyone who outshoots me gets out of ammo reload duty.”
Mark rolled his eyes. Just because their schedule was so tough didn’t mean it couldn’t get tougher. Maybe they hadn’t avoided punishment after all.