Bridgebuilders Page 16

  ~~~

  Sarah stood in the laboratory the guard had brought her to, and glared at the computer screen that displayed her instructions in indifferent black and white. Feldman had been thorough, as if leaving nothing to chance. She was to design a new time machine, based on CERBO, that was useable within this universe, as well as for interdimensional travel. Further, she was to design shielded containers that would allow them to transport people within the Sol system, including the earth-moon-NISS system, whatever NISS was, and around the planet itself.

  Her glare turned into a confused scowl. Shielded containers? Shielded from what? This must be Sam’s doing, throwing red herrings around to keep Feldman unaware of CERBO’s true versatility.

  “If so, that’s good,” she muttered. “I just wish I knew what the red herrings are.”

  She also wished Sam had told Feldman that they couldn’t transport within a universe. They could, of course, but it had not been a priority. Well, she could use that to stall. Tell Feldman she wasn’t sure of what she was doing.

  Turning her back on the monitor, she saw her own computer on a table near a wall of cabinets. She switched it on, then gasped at the obscene blue-and-gold sun logo that appeared on her screen. What had that bastard done to her computer?

  Then she realized that he’d done nothing to it. It was just that Sun’s was the only network available to its signal. Sure enough, the logo went away, replaced with an innocuous home page chronicling the best of Sun’s public projects. Sarah doubted the public would ever know about the bridge.

  Lips tight, she accessed the virtual keyboard and sent the home page to computer purgatory. Then she opened her own program for neutrino alteration, shaking her head in understated despair. I’m just an engineer. I need Sam or Uncle Jamie to give me the numbers.

  She could do it, though. Uncle Jamie would never approve, unless he’d personally checked each equation, but there was no denying that she could do it. She typed furiously, overwhelmed with the thought that this world had no Uncle Jamie, or Dad, or Mum. Well, maybe a woman the same as Mum, except she wouldn’t be Sarah’s mum. This world had no Sarah, for that matter.

  Home was suddenly very dear.

  ~~~

  Inside the lab, clicking sounds led Andy and Dinnie around a hulking STM at the end of a long table. A man fiddling with its innards turned at their approach, giving Andy an appraising glance before turning his attention to Dinnie. As she introduced them, Andy tried to figure out why Sam Altair looked, and his name sounded, familiar.

  Before he could give it much thought, his new co-worker issued a challenge. “Your file says you’ve just earned your masters. You realize this is pretty advanced stuff we’ll be doing?”

  The implied “are you up to it?” rankled a bit, but Andy supposed he shouldn’t let it show. Instead, he shrugged. “At the moment, I’m rather in the dark about what we’ll be doing. But if it involves the neutrino bridge I saw last night, I assure you I can keep up.”

  Sam looked skeptical, but Dinnie put a hand out. “Mr. Green is as knowledgeable as anyone else in the world about this subject. If he doesn’t know it, no one else does either.”

  “Why?” Sam raised his shoulders in obvious confusion. “You had the basics of it a hundred years ago, yet you don’t seem to be any further along in the study of it.”

  Dinnie flushed, but her chin jutted out in defiance. “We’ve had other priorities, Dr. Altair. Such as survival. A good deal of the knowledge gained during the twentieth century was lost as climate change accelerated. We’re catching up now.”

  “And surpassing it,” Andy said, now certain that this man came from another universe. His hands trembled with the knowledge, and he stuffed them into his pockets. “My next step is to study the deliberate manipulation of neutrinos.”

  Sam pressed a button, bringing the STM to humming life. “Prepare yourself for a crash course in that subject, Mr. Green. Just the Cliff Notes version. I don’t have time for details.”

  Andy watched through narrowed eyes. “Did you build that bridge, Dr. Altair?”

  “I did.” Sam was peering into the tunnel, making minute adjustments to several knobs. “Our job here is to make another one, and teach Albert Feldman how to use it.”

  “Feldman?” Andy jerked at the name of Sun’s notorious executive. “Is he involved in this?”

  Dinnie handed him a file. “Not your concern, Mr. Green. I believe Dr. Altair will need these data input into the STM’s computer. Why don’t you have a seat, and have at it? I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

  Chapter 23

  Dinnie hurried down the hall and up a flight to the lab where Sarah Andrews was working. I wish Feldman would let them work together. Keeping them apart is only a hindrance. Damn elitist paranoia.

  The hallway guard nodded as Dinnie passed him. Working alone meant that Sarah did not need a guard inside the lab at all times, but Feldman was still keeping a constant eye on her.

  Sarah glanced up from her Pad when Dinnie entered her lab, but made no other effort to acknowledge her presence. On the monitor, a 3D image of a probe was taking shape. Dinnie studied it, then moved her glance to Sarah, who sat with a jaw clenched tight on a pale face. Her eyes, the same green as in the picture of Casey Wilson, reflected a weary sadness. Sarah Andrews was not a happy prisoner.

  Dinnie tried to be friendly. “I haven’t had a chance to meet you yet, Miss Andrews. I’m Dinnie Warner, in Neutrino Tracking. I want to make sure you have everything you need. Is there any equipment or assistance I can get you?”

  Sarah turned back to her keyboard. “I could use a physicist,” she said. “I told Feldman I was just the engineer. Sam is the one who understands the phase change.”

  Dinnie sighed. “Yes, I know. But Mr. Feldman knows far better than I what is needed for this project. I can assure you that Dr. Altair is working on the problem and I’ll see to it you get any data you need.”

  Sarah’s fingers stilled on the keyboard at that information, but she started typing again without turning around. “Please make sure he knows that we need the neutrinos to stay in this universe, and within this system. It’s delicate work, and we’ll need to allow for the counter-reaction. Also, Mr. Feldman needs to understand that I must know the mass of whatever he is transporting. He didn’t seem prepared to give me that information.”

  Dinnie moved closer, watching as the image rotated. It wasn’t a probe, she realized. It was a container, meant to hold something. Her brows wrinkled. “Inside the system? Are you sure about that?”

  Sarah shrugged, and tapped a key, bringing up Feldman’s instructions. “These are the coordinates he gave me for the destination. Something called NISS, just a couple hundred thousand kilometers from Earth. In this universe.”

  Dinnie stared at the numbers, then cleared her throat. “NISS,” she said, but had to clear her throat again. “The space station. Mr. Feldman probably just wants to do a test run.”

  Sarah shrugged again, tapping keys to bring her half-designed container back to the screen. Dinnie watched for another minute, then turned to the door.

  ~~~

  Because a guard stayed in the laboratory with them, Andy didn’t feel safe enough to ask Sam Altair any of the fifty or so questions whirling around his brain. Sam seemed intimidated too. Their conversation was limited to necessary information, given in stilted, uncomfortable tones. But when Sam described the method for isolating and altering neutrinos, Andy forgot his fear.

  “How do you know this?” he asked. “I’ve searched the data extensively and never found anything about it.” He scrubbed the top of his head in frustration, pushing the hair in all directions. “Surely my advisor would know about it, yet why would he let me waste my time on a duplicative effort?”

  Sam shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m certain most of this was known in the early part of the century. There should have been papers written. What happened to them?”

  “A great deal of information was lost during th
e famines and wars,” Andy said. “I suppose that’s what happened.” He longed to confront Sam Altair with a question about the neutrino bridge. About the other universe, and his conviction that Sam came from that universe. But he didn’t want the guard to hear that conversation.

  Sam didn’t seem interested in pursuing it, either. He tapped the STM. “You do know how to manipulate atoms, don’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good. That’s the first step. You can get started on building a framework for the bridge. We’re building wormholes, but we must control the shape in order to control the destination. I’ve found it best to model it on a regular bowstring style. While you’re doing that, I’ll work on finding us some neutrinos.”

  Bowstring? Like a physical bridge? What the hell? But Andy set up his field within the microscope and started shifting atoms around, nudging them into the shape he wanted. After a few minutes though, he found himself staring at the atoms, the delicate sensor lying still in his hand. Did he dare? He resisted an urge to see if the guard was watching him. Act normal. It would be bad for him if he was caught. But it was worth the risk.

  He touched his stylus to the slide. The nearest atom quivered. Jaw tight, Andy settled onto his stool and began rearranging atoms into a different shape.

  After twenty minutes, he stood, blinked several times, and looked again into his viewer. Words, the start of a conversation, he hoped, shimmered up at him from the slide. Come over ER Bridge? Prisoner?

  He straightened, twisting his neck to loosen the tight muscles. Sam was still at the other table, making miniscule adjustments to the isolation unit.

  Andy cleared his throat. “Sam, could you take a look at this? I need another pair of eyes, here.”

  “Sure thing.” Sam pushed back from the table, rubbing his eyes before coming over to Andy’s table. Andy stepped aside, keeping his expression nonchalant, as Sam peered into the scope.

  Sam did not react, but Andy sensed a deep stillness grip his co-worker. Sam straightened and met Andy’s eyes. “Yes,” he said. A thrill went through Andy at the simple word. Sam continued, “You’re on the right track.”

  Andy tapped the table. “Good to know. Let me tweak it a bit more, and see what the next step is.”

  Sam glanced around the room, pausing on the bored guard before his gaze came back to Andy. He nodded and went back to his table. Andy bent over the microscope.

  An hour later, they had the framework of a plan. Andy took a deep breath, trying to still his shaking hands. He couldn’t believe he was going to do something so risky. But his choices were all risky from the moment he first found out about Moira. Life was not going to follow the careful plan he’d set for himself.

  Chapter 24

  Moira rested her head against the window and breathed through her nose until the pain in her stomach eased. Bending over to put on her socks and shoes had turned into the most difficult part of her day. At least it was over with, and she could rest for a while before going to meet Andy’s friend.

  She remained on the window seat, not moving being less painful than standing up. Despite her reassurances to Andy, she was relieved to know a doctor would see her. Her stomach felt as if it had ripped in half when Wayland hit her.

  She still felt nervous about going alone to meet a stranger. Andy had insisted she could trust Karen Jones, but she didn’t know if she could quite trust his interpretation of Pete’s message. “I’ve known Karen and Pete all my life,” he’d told her. “Our parents were friends before any of us were born. If she’s promised to meet you, that means the rebels have agreed to take you in.”

  They would take her, in exchange for Andy providing them information. He had not said that, but she knew that was the price. This was so dangerous for him. If he got caught, she’d never forgive herself.

  Her mind wandered into the odd behavior of neutrinos and people from another universe. What kind of people manipulated neutrinos for interdimensional travel? They had to be far more advanced than humans in her world.

  The chill from the window forced her to move to the bed, where she wrapped herself in a quilt and called up the bridge on her Pad. She traced paths through the pattern, trying to discern where it started and where it ended. The equations describing the paths were complicated, and she lost track of time as she double-checked her work. A whining buzz was her only warning before the room’s door clicked open, and a cleaning bot trundled in.

  It stopped just inside the room, a bullet-shaped cylinder two feet tall, with sensors blinking red and blue on its pointed top. Three arms, two on one side, and one on the other, extended from their storage space and waved up and down. The fourth arm remained in its retracted position. The top of the cylinder rotated so that the sensors faced Moira, who sat frozen on the bed.

  “This unit regrets the interruption.” Its mechanical voice was high and annoying, indicative of its cheap industrial provenance, but Moira was too fearful to let it bother her. She remained silent and the bot spoke again. “Room 432 is registered to Andrew Green, an employee of Sun Consortium. The house reports that he left the premises at 0723 hours. Please state your name and authorization.”

  Moira’s lips moved twice before she got any sound out, remembering at the very last second, who she was supposed to be. “I am Sandy Williams of Oxford. I am here ...” she floundered and continued weakly, “to meet Mr. Green for dinner. I was early, so I’m working until he arrives.”

  She held her breath as the lights blinked in silence for a small eternity. Her eyes flicked to the door, measuring the distance she’d have to jump if she needed to escape. The bot spoke again.

  “Acceptable. Do you approve if this unit cleans the room?”

  “No, thank you.” Moira sat straighter and tried to sound official. “I require no interruptions so that I may concentrate on my work.”

  “As you wish.” The arms retracted in silent motion, disappearing into the body. The unit reversed without turning, backing out of the room. The door closed.

  “Holy Jesus,” Moira breathed. Then she found herself standing, gasping as the sudden motion pulled at her stomach. Her glance darted about the room, taking in the two backpacks, her hairbrush on the nightstand, and the pile of extra blankets which had served as Andy’s bed. The bathroom contained two sets of damp towels and two toothbrushes. Shit.

  The bot would report her presence, and her story, to the House AI. Security would investigate. Her heart banged against her ribs as she shuddered into movement. It took her a few minutes to clear her things into her pack, thrusting her Pad into its outer pocket at the last moment. She paused, willing her stomach to behave, as she scanned the room a final time. Only Andy’s things were left. Security could pick up any cells she left behind of course, but after all, they already knew she’d been here. But if they did a DNA analysis, they’d know who she was. They’d know that Andy had helped her escape.

  She hesitated. Andy had said that her new chip would pass a cursory examination. If she stayed and continued her bluff, would Security be satisfied with a superficial scan of her chip? The story was plausible. It was even plausible that Andy might have had a girlfriend stay the night. It was against the law, but Belfast was an industrial hub. Security might not care.

  Indecision tore at her. If she left, would it force a deeper investigation? But if she didn’t leave, they might investigate anyway, and she’d end up back in Chelmsford.

  Her feet made the choice for her, transporting her out the door before she’d made a conscious decision. At the end of the hall, she pressed the button for the lift. A room door opened further down the hall and she jerked with fear. But it was only another woman, reading the Pad she held in one hand, while rolling a briefcase behind her with the other. Moira kept her eyes on the lift door, hoping to avoid any conversation.

  The door slid open. Next to Moira, the woman stepped forward without lifting her eyes from her Pad, still pulling her briefcase. Two men trying to exit collided with her, one tripping over
the case and ripping the handle from her grip as he fell. The case slammed into the opposite wall, and the sound of breaking glass could be heard inside it. Amid the racket, Moira saw security badges swinging from the men’s lapels, and she slipped into the lift before any of the three could recover, slamming her hand on the first floor button. No one bothered to look at her as the door slid closed.

  Chapter 25

  As soon as Dinnie Warner left the lab, Sarah flipped her screen back to the diagram of a tracking chip she had been studying. She paused, thinking over what Warner had said.

  Sam was building a bridge. That meant he had CERBO, and that meant that he could track her location using her blood marker. It also meant that Sam could build a bridge from and to anywhere he wanted, although she had the impression that Feldman didn’t know that. Sarah did not consider for a moment that Sam was doing what Feldman wanted.

  So Sam would soon be able to get them out. Unfortunately, they would be leaving without her grandmother’s journal, and Sarah was not giving it up. They’d have to hide until she could figure out a way to get it. And if they stayed in this universe, even for a short time, they’d need to do something about those bloody chips the creeps had put in their arms.

  Nice to know she was on the right track. Her hand moved in self-conscious protection to rub the spot on her arm where they’d inserted the fecking thing. Feldman had explained that tampering with it set off an alarm, so even if she were to dig it out, it would not do any good. She wasn’t anxious to try that, anyway.

  Her lips hardened into a pout as she thought about the problem. She knew nothing about the biological aspects of the chip. But biological or not, it was still a machine, and she did understand machines. It had to send out a signal that was picked up by a sensor. Blocking the signal was the obvious thing to try.