“Doctor,” Kovak smiled warmly.
“Major Kovak.”
“This is Dr. Uranius Lovinescu,” James said, introducing him to Obadiah.
They shook hands.
“Please, no jokes,” Dr. Lovinescu said, with a lopsided grin. “I’ve heard them all.”
“I’m sorry,” Obadiah said, earnestly. “I don’t actually know any ‘doctor’ jokes.”
Nathan turned away supressing a smile. He was beginning to realise that Obadiah, normally quiet and introverted, had more of a sense of humour than he made out.
“We’ll take care of your luggage and equipment,” Kovak offered.
“Thanks,” James said, appreciatively. “Are you flying back to New York?”
“No, sir,” Kovak responded. “We’re actually stationed here, so you’ll see me about.”
“Come,” Dr. Lovinescu said. “Let’s get out of this heat.”
“Medical doctor?” Nathan asked, as they turned and walked side by side towards the open door of the building. James, Emily and Obadiah followed close behind.
“No. Astrophysics and Scientology,” the doctor responded. “I’m here purely for research and scientific reasons.”
“Strange combination,” Emily said. “Isn’t Scientology more of a religion?”
“It is somewhat strange,” Dr. Lovinescu said. “I’ll gladly tell you about it sometime.”
“Why do they refer to Groom Lake as Dreamland?” she asked.
“Living the dream,” the doctor replied, disdainfully. “If there’s a hellhole on Earth, this is it; weather-wise, at least.”
James had been doing his homework and interjected. “Dr. Lovinescu is actually the co-inventor of hydrogen-slush propulsion technology and also the foremost authority on inertial engine theory.”
“Let’s dispense with the formalities,” the doctor said, looking at each of the group in turn. “Please call me Uri.”
They all nodded in acknowledgement.
There was no noticeable difference in temperature once inside. Emily, looking around, realised that the hangar was almost entirely empty. The grey concrete walls and crenelated steel roofing did nothing to alleviate the oppressive heat. If anything, it added to it.
“We actually work underground,” Uri said. “Come, follow me.”
They walked towards a distant door on the right.
“Except for the air conditioned barracks and admin blocks,” Uri explained. “Most of what goes on here is down below where it’s much cooler.”
Reaching the door, Uri held it open and ushered them through into a short corridor which ended in stairs leading down.
Obadiah bumped his head on the low door frame.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Uri said, apologetically. “I should have warned you.”
“That’s okay, doctor,” Obadiah said, rubbing the top of his head. “It’s my own fault for not looking. Just call me big and stupid.”
“You’re not that big,” Emily said, landing a shot.
“Funny,” Obadiah said, drawing out the word and looking at Emily with a cheeky grin.
“So, tell me Obadiah, what brings you here?” Uri asked, as they made their way down three flights of stairs.
“Security,” Obadiah replied.
“Right,” Uri said. “James did mention that on our video call.”
“Although it seems as if you’ve already got security well covered,” Obadiah said. “These two, unfortunately, tend to get themselves into a lot of mischief.” Smirking, he turned his head and looked at Nathan and Emily.
Mischief indeed. Emily recalled the debacle with the Magentis Company a year ago where she was coerced into meddling with James confidential emails, and Nathan’s team monitoring and recording private phone conversations along with hacking into secure government databases.
“I notice you have a slight European accent,” Nathan said. “Where to you originate from?”
Chapter Nineteen
Dr. Uranius Lovinescu was born in Romania. His parents were senior members of the communist party which funded his education at the University of Bucharest. There he studied astrophysics and chemistry, learned to speak English, and received his first doctorate.
On December 22nd, 1989, the leader of the Romanian communist party, Nicolae Ceaușescu, was overthrown by a violent revolution, forcing him to flee the capital. A few days later, Ceaușescu, his wife, Elena, and senior members of the party were executed by firing squad. Uranius’s parents were among those put to death.
After the fall of communism, Uranius moved to England where he taught physics at Oxford University. Four years later, the US offered him a senior position at Groom Lake in their jet propulsion laboratory.
Uri led them through another door at the foot of the staircase. “This is where I spend most of my time,” he said, as strip lights equipped with motion sensors flickered on.
The massive underground hall took up as much space as the hangar above, but for all its size, was very sparsely furnished. The air seemed almost cold in comparison to where they had just come from three levels above. It was most welcomed.
Closest to the door were a few workstations with computers, monitors and printers. Further in, armchairs and side tables were scattered about on a well-worn, beige carpet, and beyond, a small lab area. A self-contained kitchenette bordered a small part of the right wall, and opposite on the left, a fully functional washroom. At the end of the hall, the remains of a large cargo elevator could be seen.
“Up until twenty years ago, this space, and those under the other hangars, was largely filled with military hardware,” Uri explained, seeing the baffled expressions on their faces. “It was subsequently moved to either Edwards or Nellis Air Force Bases. Come, make yourselves comfortable. Can I get you something out of the refrigerator?”
“That would be great,” Nathan said. The others nodded their agreement.
“Cold beer, water or soda?”
They all settled on beer, but Obadiah felt obliged to ask James’s permission first.
James had never touched alcohol, saying that all it did was make his head spin. He was also very health conscious. Recently, however, he had taken to enjoying an occasional beer or whisky with his friends.
“Is this where we will be working from?” James asked.
“No,” Uri said. “You’ll be in a more secure location. I’ll take you there tomorrow. For now, I just wanted to show you where you can find me, but most of all, give you time to relax a bit. I also think it’s a good opportunity for us to get to know each other.”
“Cheers to that,” Nathan said.
“So that you know, your personal belongings will be taken to the barracks enclosure,” Uri said.
Emily imagined herself sleeping on a hard bunk bed in an open space full of soldiers.
“You have nothing to worry about,” Uri said, noticing Emily’s concern. “You have each been allocated a comfortable suite with private washroom in the officers’ quarters.”
Emily visibly relaxed.
“Who else works down here?” Nathan asked.
“Just me,” Uri said. “It’s perfect. No one ever interrupts me. Of course, any of you can come down whenever you wish if you need some privacy, or just a place to put your feet up for a while.”
“Great, thanks,” Nathan said.
“You’re also welcome to help yourself to anything in the kitchenette. It’s always very well stocked.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes acclimatising to the cool air and enjoying the cold beer.
“James mentioned that you’re the originator of advanced hydrogen-slush propulsion technology,” Emily said. “Not that I know anything about it, but that sounds like quite an achievement.”
“Co-inventor,” Uri said, modestly. “My counterpart was actually Trish LaForgue.”