“Some of the materials that are critical for us to rebuild our civilization come from other countries,” I said. “Can the Navy help get things started by moving materials from one country to another over the oceans? I assume the Navy has freighters to move cargo.”
Saltzman smiled. “As I said,” he replied, “I have no authority to promise anything or to negotiate anything. I am just here to observe.”
“And I know that most of the Navy ships run on diesel oil, which will run out very shortly,” I replied. “Even the nuclear powered ships require new fuel rods from time to time, and all of your people need to eat. We are going to be in a position to supply what you need, but it’s not going to be a one way street. We can all survive by working together, helping one another.”
“Like I said,” he replied, “I can’t promise anything.”
I could sense the thoughts in his head and his feelings. He still felt a little arrogant about his perceived position of power over us. I decided to shake him up a little.
“Consider the idea that there are fewer secrets than you think there are,” I said.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, changing his posture to a more aggressive stance.
At least I had his complete attention now. “It means the answer resides in cooperation rather than competition,” I said. “Think about it. We’re not a threat to you, but we can be a valuable resource to you under the right conditions.”
I left him to ponder the situation alone, knowing he would pass the information up his chain of command.
CHAPTER 30
“I’ve got a new project for you,” John said as our daily radio update started. “I’ve got a guy in Seattle who thinks he can make an aircraft turbofan engine run on electricity.”
“An electric jet engine?” I asked. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“And you probably hadn’t ever heard of a Magnetic Effect Generator before we got the designs for them, either,” John replied.
“Point well taken,” I said. “So what does he need?”
“He needs help matching what he has to a magnetic generator. He’s got some interesting ideas that I’d like you to evaluate,” John said. “I’ve got enough jet fuel to make this one last trip, so the plane will be staying in Seattle with you. If you can help make this work, we’re back in business; otherwise we’re down to ground transportation only.”
“Okay,” I said, “I’m game, Tia and Ed, too?”
“Yeah,” John replied, “and Lieutenant Saltzman. He’s probably going to want to be in on this one, too. Invite him along and see what he says.”
“Okay,” I said, “when do we leave?”
“You have the plane down there,” John said, “Wheels up ASAP. You’ll have to stop in Denver for fuel.”
That evening I talked with Tia and Ed. They weren’t exactly pleased to have Saltzman along, but they were more than ready to get out of the heat.
“We’re being sent to Seattle,” I told Saltzman. “John’s invited you to come along if you’re interested, or we could drop you off in Denver with him. Your choice.”
“So what’s in Seattle?” Saltzman asked.
“A guy who believes he can make an electric jet engine,” I said.
“That’s actually an oxymoron,” Saltzman replied. “Electric and jet are two incompatible concepts.”
I smiled. Saltzman knew his stuff.
“Okay,” I said, “the guy believes he can make an electric turbofan engine capable of propelling an aircraft in flight.”
“Supersonic flight?” Saltzman asked.
“Remains to be seen,” I replied, “but theoretically, yes.”
Saltzman leaned back in his seat and examined me for a short time. I could feel the gears turning in his mind.
“I’m in,” he said. “When do we leave?”
“Ten tomorrow morning.”
We got up, had breakfast and took the bicycle-built-for-two limo service back out to the airport. We boarded and took our seats. Ralph loaded a medium-sized magnetic generator into the plane after us. Before we were belted in, the pilot closed the door and ducked into the cockpit. We started rolling immediately and within two minutes were airborne. We stopped in Denver for the remaining jet fuel and took off again for Seattle. The flight took just over two hours as we descended down through the clouds, something we hadn’t seen in a month. The air in Seattle was cool and damp; it felt soggy, compared to Phoenix.
Bernard Hockstetler, who preferred to be called just Bernie, met us at the hangar where John’s Learjet 45 would remain. The hangar had a number of holes in the roof and a few in the walls. Several puddles remained on the concrete floor. Since there was nothing to burn inside the hanger during the meteor storm, it remained structurally sound. The only problem was, when it rained, which it did a lot in Seattle, everything inside the hangar got wet.
“My shop is in back of the hangar,” he explained. Bernie told me in general terms what he was doing and what needed to be done. My understanding of how an electric motor works left me visualizing a motor four to five times the size of a jet engine with only a fraction of the power. With the weight of the motors and the electrical power required, I didn’t see how an electric airplane could get off the ground.
Bernie kept talking about how all the rules changed with resonance, and what he had found with his experiments. We arrived at his shop exhausted, but Bernie insisted on showing us one of his motors. He showed us a common quarter-horse-power appliance motor, small and compact and how he had rewired the motor with much larger wire. The motor was connected to a clutch assembly and from there to a six-foot diameter fan bolted to the floor. On the work bench next to the clutch assembly were some capacitors wired in with the motor.
“Ordinarily,” Bernie explained, “this motor will not drive a fan this large, and if it does, it will turn slowly, creating only a small breeze. But by making the motor a resonant circuit, many times the electric current will flow inside the motor, giving it many times the torque needed to drive the fan.”
“Yes,” I said, “but the power consumed by the motor still has to come from the outside. It doesn’t actually generate power within itself.”
“I know they taught you that in engineering school,” Bernie said. “They taught me that too. But they were wrong. They didn’t pursue it because they were taught it couldn’t work. Watch what happens.”
Bernie pointed to a watt meter connected to the wires between the motor and the capacitors and a second watt meter connected to the wires that led down to a car alternator mounted on a bicycle next to the work bench.
Bernie started pedaling, just as so many other people were doing down in Phoenix, to create electrical energy. The large fan started to rotate gently as expected.
“The whole thing is frequency sensitive,” Bernie said as he changed gears on the bicycle and began pumping harder. The large fan began rotating faster, developing more of a breeze. I checked the power meters. The energy produced by the alternator on the bicycle was the same as that being consumed by the motor. Then the fan increased dramatically in speed and power.
“Check the power levels now,” Bernie shouted over the noise of the fan.
I looked again at the meters. The power coming into the motor had gone up a little, but the power inside the motor circuit was ten times what was being fed into it. I was stunned. The fan increased to a roar and small objects around the shop were being blown around by the violent wind now being produced. I finally realized why the fan was bolted to the concrete floor.