The Lucifer Sanction

Chapter EIGHT

Particle Accelerant Chambers

March 25

10.22 P: M



Beckman entered the room, waved a hand across the caskets and motioned at the vacant particle chambers. “Good evening, as you see we are monitoring our two travelers.” He passed a nod to Bosch. “Hans, you have explained the accelerant chambers to our group?”

Bosch gave his heels a slight click.

Blake’s uneasiness showed. He wiped the back of one hand across his nose and then scratched at an eyebrow just as Beckman placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered, “I fully understand your apprehension my friend, but please - realize we have considered many people for the undertaking of this mission and Libra’s decision was not made lightly.”

He sensed Blake’s uneasiness at the hand on his shoulder. He released the grip and turned away. “Nor was the decision made in haste,’ he said and slipped a sideways glance at Bosch. “We are most prudent in how and when we are able to pass on information regarding our technology, our prudence may seem obsessive but believe me - our competitors are ruthless in their pursuit. Fortunately for our program, our major competition has experienced several setbacks, or rather - regretful fatalities among its travelers.”

There was a moment of silence during which Blake pictured himself drifting in cyberspace. “Fatalities?” he asked with a contorted face. “Don’t we get a return ticket on this excursion?”

Beckman appeared guarded in his response. “Oh, they came back, but the sub-atomic transference was, eh . . . what we call severely distorted.”

Blake shifted his position until eye to eye with Beckman. “What the f*ck’s that mean - severely distorted?”

“Imagine a facsimile,” Beckman said as he edged away from Blake. “You set it onto the plate of your machine and you transmit. It arrives at its destination as an exact duplicate of the original, which remains in your fax machine.” Again he waved a casual hand toward the two cylinders. “Just like these two gentlemen. They are lying in their ‘facsimile machines.’”

“Sounds like your ability’s highly questionable,” Blake said. “Like you’re holding back on us.”

Beckman hesitated. It was best to be candid with Blake. He could see the agent was not at the front of the queue when God handed out patience.

“If the receiver,” Beckman explained, “sends a copy of the original back to you but your machine’s receptor is malfunctioning, you may hear the activation of the machine alerting you to the incoming transmission, however when it attempts atomic restructuring, well, the result is misalignment.”

“Misalignment?” Dal groped.

“Quite so, reading it becomes impossible. The transcription is out of alignment; the text is jumbled. It is misaligned.”

As the sick feeling began building deep in Dal’s stomach, he shuffled his feet and moaned, “I need the restroom.”

Bosch pointed to a door and Dal hurried off with both hands clenching his stomach.

“He appears unwell,” Beckman commented with insincerity.

“What the hell are we getting ourselves into here?” Blake asked. “I understand our going back to the 14th century,” and he pointed at Bosch. “Hans here explained how we get back, but seeing these two sleeping beauties just lying here waiting, well – it puts a nasty taste in my mouth.”

“Understandably so,” Beckman replied. “But please accompany me to a more comfortable setting. Perhaps we three can explain exactly what your task entails in uh - somewhat layman’s terms.”

Dal rejoined the group. They moved on to a room far more eclectically decorated than the sterile areas within the facility. Of note were two sofas of Chesterfield design separated by a Louis XIV table.

“I have to tell you guys,” Blake said still deep in thought and ignoring the décor, “this isn’t sitting too well with any of us.”

Beckman said, “Allow me to begin by explaining the theory of how you will arrive at your coordinates. I assume my colleague...” and his tone became condescending as he flipped a casual thumb over his shoulder, “...explained the purpose of the three empty chambers.” He handed Blake five small discs. “These converter discs are of paramount importance, never misplace them. You have one each, three green ones. The additional two red discs are for Campion and Moreau. We must assume their discs are malfunctioning. I cannot impress upon you enough the importance of these discs – they are your ticket back to this facility.”

“Hold that thought,” Blake said. “I recall hearing a guarantee from you, you said because you’re here now – didn’t you say words to that affect?”

“Quite so, the men in the particle chambers, you saw them, they are here now, are they not?”

“Yeah, they sound like the words.”

Bell had been nervous throughout the discussion. Seated some ten feet from Blake, she leaned forward, ran her hands down to her ankles and dropped her head between her knees. Blake and Bell simultaneously groaned, and Dal rolled his head from one side to the other causing his vertebrae to let out a cracking sound.

Beckman grinned as he placed a consoling hand on Dal’s shoulder. “The comfort level inside your chamber will be pleasant and pain free. You will have no conscious awareness of the process.”

There was a moment of silence. Blake turned and saw Bell sitting with her head between her knees and asked, “You okay, Bell?”

“Depends on your interpretation of okay.”

Blake gazed at Dal and wondered if he should just tell Beckman to take the assignment and...

Beckman felt Bosch’s glare. He cleared his throat and continued. “During transmission you’ll be disassembled into pixels. This is accomplished by reflecting your images through multiple lenses positioned along the inner lid and sides of your chamber. The lenses are focused to a charged coupling device that converts your images into electrical current. The interior walls of each chamber are constructed with multiple curved mirrors. These mirrors prevent you from seeing out but we can see in . . . just as you were able to see the two suspended travelers. It will be as though you are simply resting. Once inside your chamber you will enter a process known as sub-atomic conversion. Signals will be modulated and transmitted into the parallel universe - to your pre-set coordinates. The green disc you each carry is pre-programmed. When the time is right you will activate the recall function and we will transfer you back to your chamber.”

“You mean . . . just like those two guys?” Dal asked. The question went unanswered. “And another thing

– what’s with all this pixel shit?” And Dal made another hurried exit to the rest room.

Beckman waited for Dal to leave, refocused on Blake and Bell. “As you have been told, your primary task is to locate Moreau and Campion, give each man a disc and secure the Lucifer ampoules. Do you have questions?”

Bosch stared at Blake; a cold stare that lingered for several long moments. When no move came from Blake, he shifted his stare to Bell in anticipation of a reaction. None came – the time for reaction had long gone.

“Agent Blake, we know our universe is not four dimensional, that it does not consist of three spaces plus a time dimension, and that it indeed hosts numerous other dimensions. The theory of relativity or of quantum mechanics revolutionized our way of thinking, and Libra’s research into the existence of extra dimensions has been a major milestone in developing fuller understanding of the universe. As a result of this, our obvious application has been - time travel.”

Beckman gave Bosch a reprieve. “Contemporary neighbors of ours known as CERNA whose primary work involves the production of micro black holes, have built a Super Large Hadron Collider in a circular tunnel thirty miles in circumference. It is buried around three hundred feet underground and straddles the borders of France and Switzerland on the outskirts of Geneva. We consider the direction in which they are moving to be a possible doomsday scenario. Although according to a report prepared by the Executive Committee of the Division of Particles & Fields of the American Physical Society, the LHC particle collisions pose no conceivable threat. CERNA mandated a group of independent scientists to review these scenarios. They concluded that, like current particle experiments such as the Relativistic Heavy Ion Collider, the LHC particle collisions actually pose no conceivable threat. A second review of the evidence commissioned by CERNA was released in 2008. Our physicists have studied copies of the reports and our conclusions are somewhat skeptical. With our research we have circumvented certain areas of their fundamental theorem.”

Beckman heard approaching footsteps. He halfturned, glanced over his shoulder and mumbled a few incoherent words. “As a result, we have our nose well in front of CERNA as the goal draws nearer.”

Dal returned looking a little washed out. He sat alongside Bellinger as Bosch took over from his associate. “CERNA aims at increasing the functional capacity of their machine by a factor of 10 to 1035 cm−2s−1. And yes, we agree this will provide far better chances to see rare processes and improve statistic marginal measurements.”

He paused briefly, allowing Blake to strut his minimal scientific acumen. “Yeah, I’ve heard about CERNA’s work, but I thought they’d reached a peak with their Large Hadron Collider.”

Sam added, “But isn’t their level of research to be expected of an institution with their kind of backing? The people behind CERNA receive enough annually to fund a super version of the contraption, isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” Bosch replied, failing to disguise his tone. “There are so many different paths that exist for upgrading their Collider program, Mr. Ridkin and their funding is limitless. CERNA maintains a collection of different designs of the high luminosity interaction regions. They held a workshop in 2006 to establish which options would be the most promising machine parameters - they produced amazing results.”

Sam analyzed Bosch’s praise of the competitor as being one of skepticism, rather than admiration.

Bosch continued. “Concerns have been raised in the media, on the Internet and through the law courts about the safety of the particle physics experiments planned by CERNA. As far as the world knows, their LHC is the world’s largest and highest-energy particle accelerator. We have carefully guarded our program and we prefer it stay that way.”

“Hmm, so CERNA’s done well,” Blake said in a doubting tone. “And your particle chamber’s more advanced than theirs?”

Beckman replied, “At this point I see no reason to withhold confidential material from you.” He looked to Bosch, at Danzig, and received a nod from each. “We were concerned the physicists at CERNA’s Geneva facility were outpacing our own particle work. Unfortunately, our compatriots experienced a small problem last year.” His delivery switched to one of cynicism. “During a powering test of the main dipole circuit, a fault occurred in the electrical bus connection. It resulted in mechanical damage and the release of helium from the magnetic cold mass. Thankfully, with proper safety procedures in place, CERNA personnel were never at risk.”

“Did they suspect you guys at Libra were behind the, uh - behind the accident?” Sam asked.

“Investigations within CERNA are still being conducted,” Beckman replied. “The complete findings will be reported at a later date. They are experiencing difficulties reducing the beams inside their chambers, the beams moved around the internal mirrored enclosure in which their, uh . . . in which their subjects were suspended in a continuous vacuum guided by a magnetic field . . . superconducting magnets cooled by a huge cryogenics system.”

Dal, Blake and Bell turned and stared hard at Sam, each assuming he was following the discussion. Sam kept a serious demeanor, leading them to believe he was on track with Beckman’s scientific jargon.

“Cables conduct current without resistance in their superconducting state, but the beams that were meant to be stored at high energy levels for hours . . . well, they uh . . .” Beckman took a long break as though searching out the least incriminating words. “Well, what can I say . . . they malfunctioned.”

“Malfunctioned?” Sam asked.

“Yes, a malfunction that resulted in collisions inside CERNA’s chamber.” He paused, allowed a guilt ridden smile to escape. “It uh - resulted in a temporary cessation of their program . . . such a pity.”

“What of your program,” Blake inquired. “Any uh, pity with it?”

“Well yes actually, initially we had setbacks. We transferred a few subjects out there.”

“Out there?” Dal groaned.

Bosch was hesitant. “Hmm, yes, unfortunately uh . . . out there in another time, probably misaligned.”

“Maybe dead?” Dal groaned.

“At this time, hmm,” Bosch sighed as he nodded, “yes, actually quite possibly deceased.”

Bell asked, “Your subjects . . . they were human?”

“They were uh,” and Bosch slid a quick glance to Beckman. “They were large laboratory specimens.”

“Large specimens?” Bell asked in a concerned tone.

“As cold-hearted at it may appear, Miss Bellinger,” Bosch said in an attempt to justify Libra’s actions, “you must realize we are attempting to improve this century’s standard of living.”

“I realize that,” Bell said. “But precisely what subjects did you people send out there?”

The doctor bit down on his lip while Beckman’s eyes gazed innocently at his shoes. Paul Danzig made an infrequent contribution to the discussion. “Abandoned dogs,” Danzig said. “Animals scheduled for euthanizing at the city pound.”

Bell shuddered. She gave Sam a look of disapproval.

Bosch waved Danzig off, making it quite clear his associate would have no further participation in the science lesson.

“Please do not doubt our resolve, Agent Bellinger,” Bosch sneered. “Their loss is an insignificant price to pay for the progress of science.”