Karen King didn’t believe it, either. She said, “This is bullshit hype. No way. You can do anything with video.”
“It’s existing technology,” Drake said calmly.
Amar Singh said, “So you’re saying you can cause a dimensional change in a human being as great as ten to the minus three.”
“Yes.”
“Which means that someone six feet tall would be, uh, seventy-two inches…seven-hundredths of an inch tall.”
“That’s correct,” Drake said. “Slightly less than two-tenths of a millimeter.”
“Jesus,” Rick Hutter said.
“And at ten to the minus two,” Drake said, “the person is approximately half an inch tall. Twelve millimeters.”
“I would actually like to see this for real,” Danny Minot said.
“Of course,” Drake said. “And you will.”
Chapter 9
Nanigen Headquarters 28 October, 7:30 p.m.
W hile Drake was talking with the students, Peter Jansen had taken Alyson Bender aside. “Some of us brought samples and compounds to show Mr. Drake.”
“That’s good,” Alyson said to him.
“I’ve got a CD with some of my, uh, research on it,” Peter said. She nodded in response. “It’s a recording. It involves my brother,” Peter added. He hoped to start winding her up, making her nervous. She nodded again and left the conference room; did he see a flicker of alarm in her eyes?
After she’d left, while Drake was still talking, Peter slipped behind the service door and went to the audio panel. He needed some equipment; something to magnify his voice; he did not want Drake or anyone to be able to shut him up or shout him down. Behind the service door there were some drawers; he began opening them, and he found what he wanted. It was a lavalier, a wireless microphone device that would transmit his voice to a loudspeaker. The lavalier was identical to a unit Drake had used during his slide show and talk. The device consisted of a transmitter unit and a throat mike with a wire that ran to the transmitter. He slipped the transmitter into his pants pocket, stuffed the wire and mike in after it.
Drake concluded his presentation on the screens, and the lights went up in the meeting room. “Some of you have brought things to show us,” Drake said, “and we are very eager to see them. Now if-yes, what is it?”
Alyson Bender had come back into the room. She leaned close to Drake, whispered in his ear. Drake stared at Peter as he listened, then looked away. He nodded twice, but said nothing. Finally he turned back to Peter.
“Peter, you have a recording?”
“A CD, yes.”
“What is on that recording, Peter?” Drake didn’t seem upset at all.
“Something that will interest you.” Peter’s heart was pounding.
“Related to your brother?”
“Yes.”
Drake seemed unruffled. “I know this is a difficult matter for you,” he said, placing his hand on Peter’s shoulder. Gently, he added, “Wouldn’t it be easier to talk privately?”
Drake wanted to get him off alone, where nobody could hear what was said. Peter balked. “We can talk here,” he answered. In the conference room with everybody else.
Drake looked concerned. “If I might have a private word with you Peter-Eric was a friend of mine, too. I’ve suffered a loss myself. Let’s step into the next room.”
Peter shrugged and got up, and walked with Vin Drake and Alyson Bender into a smaller adjacent room-it was a prep booth for the conference room. Drake closed the door behind them and with a smooth gesture flipped the door’s lock. Then he spun around, and in the blink of an eye his face had been transformed: it was contorted with rage. He viciously clamped his hand around Peter’s throat and slammed him against the wall. With his other hand, he took Peter’s arm and bent it, holding it in a lock. “I don’t know what your game is, you little bastard-”
“No game-”
“The police aren’t looking for a phone on the boat-”
“No?”
“No, you little bastard. Because they haven’t been to the boat yard all day.”
Peter’s mind was racing. “The police didn’t need to go to the boat yard,” he said, “because they can find the phone just by looking at the GPS tracking signal-”
“No they can’t!” Drake let go of his arm and punched him in the stomach, hard. Peter gasped and doubled over, and Drake grabbed his arm and bent it behind him, and got Peter in a neck lock, immobilizing him. “Don’t lie to me. They can’t, because I disabled the GPS before I ever put that phone on the boat.”
Alyson said nervously, “Vin…”
“Shut up.”
“So,” Peter said, “you disabled the GPS and rigged up the phone to clog my brother’s gas line?”
“No. To kill the fuel pump, you little asshole…I killed the radio, too…”
Alyson: “Vin, listen…”
“Alyson, keep out of this-”
“Why’d you do it?” Peter said, coughing, pulling at Drake’s fingers. Drake’s grip was strong on his throat. “Why?”
“Your brother was a fool. You know what he wanted? He wanted to sell this technology. Turns out there’s some legal issue about ownership, who really owned it. So Eric thought we should sell. Can you imagine: sell this technology. Eric betrayed Nanigen. He betrayed me personally.”
“Vin, for God’s sake-”
“Shut up-”
“Your mike!” Alyson pointed to the lavalier microphone on Drake’s lapel. “It’s on.”
“Ah, shit,” Vin Drake hissed. He punched Peter brutally hard in the solar plexus, and let him crumple to the floor on his knees, gasping. Very deliberately, Drake pulled back his jacket, revealing the transmitter clipped to his belt. He tapped a switch: the light was off. “I’m not stupid.”
Peter knelt on the floor and retched and coughed, unable to get a breath. He realized that the small clip microphone had come out of his pocket, and dangled on its cord. Drake might see it. Groping around, he tried to stuff it back in his pocket, and his hand hit the transmitter. He heard a loud popping noise coming over the loudspeakers in the conference room.
Drake looked toward the conference room. He had heard the sound. His eyes followed Peter’s hand, and he saw the little microphone. He took a step backward and lashed out with his boot, kicked Peter on the side of the head. Peter collapsed. Drake tore the lavalier’s cord out of Peter’s pocket, disconnecting the mike, and tossed it away. Peter rolled on the floor and groaned.
“What do we do now?” Alyson said to him. “They’ve heard it-”
“Shut up!” He paced. “God damn it. None of them have cell phones, right?”
“Right, they left them at the front…”
“Okay then.”
“What are you going to do?” she said, trembling.
“Just stay out of my way.”
He flipped open a security panel, and hit a red SECURITY button. A loud, rising and falling alarm began to sound. He hauled Peter up under the armpits and dragged him to his feet, where he swayed, unsteady and in pain, groggy from his beating. “Suck it up, sport,” Drake said. “Time to clean up your mess.”
Drake unlocked the door and burst into the conference room, supporting Peter. He had to shout over the alarm. “We’ve had a security breach,” he said. “Peter has been injured. The security robots have been released. These bots are extremely dangerous. Come quickly this way, all of you. We need to get to the safety room.” He led them out into the hallway, holding on to Peter while Alyson Bender took Peter’s other arm.
In the hallway, a few researchers were running toward the entrance. “Get outside!” somebody shouted, running past, heading for the building’s main exit. Most employees had gone home for the day.
Drake, however, turned and led the students deeper into the complex.
“Where the hell are you taking us?” Rick Hutter said to Drake.
“It’s too late to get outdoors. We need to get to the safety room.”