His boss, Fei, jerks forward. “What are you talking about?”
He answers nervously. “A couple of weeks ago, we discovered a countdown from Barnard’s Star that times the arrival of supermassive gravity waves. What if we build a device to harvest that energy?”
“A gravity engine,” Austin says. “Anil proposes we harness the incoming current to ignite our fusion reactor.”
The room erupts in conversation.
Diego shouts, “When does this countdown end?”
“About two days from now,” Anil says.
Fei rolls her head back. “We can’t build anything that quickly… that’s impossible—”
Beth interrupts. “How will the engine work, Anil?”
“I’ve thought a lot about this,” Anil says. “Let me first say that the gravity engine will not be a stand-alone power source. We will build it on top of a laser, such as neodymium.”
“Interesting,” Diego interrupts. “Neodymium lasers will heat our shell to 80 million degrees, close to our threshold but not enough to trigger fusion.”
“Correct. I believe that the cosmic wave will give the extra boost we need to reach 100 million degrees.”
Chatter erupts and Beth signals for silence. “Anil, tell us exactly how your machine works.”
Anil shares his laptop screen with the group. “Here’s a sketch. A gravitational wave is energy created when objects like black holes collide in space.”
Austin waves. “Can you enlarge your drawings?”
Anil projects the image on the wall. “As you can see, the gravity engine converts the incoming energy directly into heat. It works by accelerating titanium atoms around a circular track. When the cosmic wave hits, it causes the atoms to collide and release an enormous amount of heat.”
Fei laughs. “I admit it’s brilliant, but again, how will you possibly construct your device in two days?”
Anil’s voice quivers. “You’re right. It’s probably impossible to build one on short notice.”
“Wait a minute,” Austin says, “you need to spin atoms around a track? Can’t we use a particle accelerator to do what you’re proposing?”
“Yes, theoretically, but where we will we find one?”
Beth’s eyes widen. “There’s one right down the street at my alma mater.”
“Stanford?” Austin asks.
“Yes, the Cyclotron! They have one on the old campus in Palo Alto.”
“Do we have access to it?”
“I know Tom Lee, the head of Stanford’s Applied Physics Department. We were classmates in college. I’m sure he’ll let us use it.”
Austin stands. “I sense a plan coming together. We can convert the accelerator into a gravity engine. All we need is some titanium to run through it.”
“What about the neodymium laser and the titanium?” Fei asks. “Where are we going to find those?”
The team grows quiet as they stare at Anil’s blueprints on the wall. Austin turns to Diego. “Where did you buy the deuterium pellets?”
“From a source in New Mexico,” Diego replies.
“Would they have ionized titanium?”
“I don’t believe so, but I’ll check.”
Beth anxiously paces the room with her hands clasped. “We have to go for it. This is our only shot.” She commands the room. “Necessity is the mother of invention and we are in desperate need for clean energy. It’s time to innovate. I will do everything I can do find a neodymium laser and I need all of you to step up your game.”
The team sits silently and listens intently.
Beth continues after a pause. “Here’s our plan. In the next forty-eight hours, we must track down a supply of titanium and a neodymium laser. Let’s gather everything and meet in the Stanford Cyclotron in two days. We have to catch the gravity wave when it hits Earth.”
“It’s a long shot,” Austin says, “but we’ll try our best.”
“There’s no other choice. This is our only hope for survival.”
17.
AT CIA HEADQUARTERS, Gareth Allen frantically rushes down a long hallway. Carrying a briefcase with a war dossier, he passes by portraits of Porter Goss and George H. W. Bush on his way to the Director's office.
As he walks, incoming messages stream into his smartglasses—“Bank of America under attack,” “Citibank offline,” and “Wave 3 commencing.”
He dictates a reply to his underling. “Is the enemy stealing money?”
Seconds later, a message arrives. “Most likely.”
“Did you ID the virus?” Gareth asks.
“Yes. It’s standard-issue Chinese military.”
Footsteps echo through the marble corridor as Gareth approaches his boss’s office. At an unmarked entrance, he looks up to a security setup. A camera scans his retina and the door opens.
Gareth approaches a receptionist. “Hi, Holly, sorry I'm late.”
“Please have a seat,” she says. “Mr. Klein will be ready in a minute.”
Gareth drops his bag and catches his breath in the windowless waiting room. He wipes his brow and adjusts his suit jacket, then flips on a tablet computer and scans the front page of the Telegraph. “War Update – Days after implementation of the Information Tariffs, enemy forces have launched strikes against banks and infrastructure. The cyberattacks come as Chinese companies face stiff penalties for using American-made information technology, including software and web services. One Pentagon official says, ‘The enemy is desperate to attack us, but we will prevail.’”
He sends a message to Manos. “Were you affected by the viruses?”
Moments later a reply appears. “We are recovering.”
“Good.”
After a pause, another memo arrives from Manos. “I will take you up on your offer.”
Gareth appears confused. “Which one?”
Seconds later, a note pops up. “Google CEO.”
Holly stands. “Mr. Allen, the Director is ready to see you. Right this way.”
Gareth replies to Manos. “I will call you soon to discuss.” He follows Holly to a large office with portraits of former CIA Directors. An executive table spans the room.
“The Director will be with you shortly,” Holly says before leaving.
Gareth clears this throat and sips some water, preparing himself for his boss. He glances at the photographs on the wall when Stan Klein enters and hovers tall above the room.
Gareth grows nervous. “How are you, sir?”
“Dismal,” Stan mutters tensely. “Debrief me. We don’t have a lot of time.”
Gareth taps a tablet and loads a map of the United States. “Let’s get right to it. Here is the latest view of the cyberattacks. The barrage lasted 72 hours and a number of our banks and corporations went down.”
“What’s the damage?”
“$200B in lost economic activity.”
Stan's face reddens. “That’s horrible. Is the attack over?”
“Yes, we believe so. It’s been 24 hours since the last transmission.”
“Bastards. We disturbed the hornet’s nest.”
Gareth nods. “We did, sir. This response is a good sign that the tariffs hit them hard. Their stock markets have fallen significantly. I also learned that they retaliated with standard-issue military-grade viruses. I believe we have the upper hand, sir.”
Stan makes a fist. “We need to bounce back quickly.”
“Citibank is trying to get online and others will follow suit. We will recover from this raid as we have before.”
“That's good to hear, but don’t get too relaxed just yet. It’s not over.”
Gareth crosses his arms. “Sir?”
“I don't believe the Chinese are finished. We should remain on the defensive.”