Danny thought a moment. “The assets are honing their Enhancements pretty well. We’re finding that most of them come at a cost, though, so we need to keep an eye on that.”
“Like that Negro’s long recovery period.”
“Exactly. Some of them, like Maggie, we haven’t identified yet. Still working on it.”
“And that’s why we can’t let Jim Forrestal get his hands on them before we got this all worked out,” the director said. “So, what’s your SOP when he cables?”
Danny shrugged. “We’re not sending MAJESTIC-12 intel over cable, so I tell him to sit tight for the next report. We agreed on weekly updates, which go to him, you, General Montague, Dr. Bush, Dr. Bronk — basically everyone with MAJESTIC-12 clearance except the President.”
Hillenkoetter nodded. Danny had wondered why Truman wasn’t looped in on the weekly reports from Area 51, but figured the President was a pretty busy fellow to begin with. And a bunch of reports with unanswered questions wouldn’t do much to help Hillenkoetter — or Forrestal, for that matter — keep the President happy.
“I’ll have a talk with Jim. I don’t care how many code words we use, we can’t have him asking about this over a cable. He’ll have to wait for copies to fly in, just like everyone else,” the director said.
Danny breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, sir.”
“Any luck running down any more signals? Or Variants?”
“Not since the one in Boston, sir. Honestly, I’ve been busy setting up shop here, but the phenomenon isn’t putting out any more pulses, either. When it does, I’ll be ready to go,” Danny said. “Should I focus more on Variant searches instead?”
Hillenkoetter shook his head. “No, Commander. You keep on this project. With Montague in Albuquerque, you’re pretty much de facto base commander, and between the lab work and the asset training, you’ve got enough on your plate. I have a couple analysts looking through the wires and newspapers for anything interesting, but as you said, there hasn’t been a signal in months. We’ll have to start figuring out how to look overseas, too. But not right now.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And, Commander… when Jim Forrestal asks about Subject-1, you don’t tell him a damn thing beyond those reports. You read me?”
“Loud and clear, sir,” Danny replied, realizing in that moment just how difficult it was to have two bosses at odds with one another.
They were interrupted by a knock at the door, which Danny rose to get, ushering Dr. Kurt Schreiber into the room. Schreiber had been one of the beneficiaries of Operation PAPERCLIP, the program designed to bring Nazi brains to America to work for the United States, so long as their war records weren’t too atrocious. It was a rotten deal with the devil, Danny thought.
He couldn’t help but grimace at the man. He’d seen Schreiber’s file. The Nazi should’ve been shot. But… the doctor knew about nuclear phenomena, and if there was only one man alive with any inkling of what it was — it was Schreiber. And even that was still a lot of guesswork.
“Dr. Schreiber,” Hillenkoetter said, waving the white-coated scientist to another chair. “Do you know who I am?”
The German gave a thin smile as he took his seat. “I can only assume from your rank, and the fact that you’re here, that you’re in charge of Mr. Wallace here, if not more.”
“Suffice it to say, Doctor, that you wouldn’t be here without my approval, which, I should tell you, was only given reluctantly,” Hillenkoetter said. “I’ve read your reports, and frankly, I don’t have a science-to-English dictionary. So, tell me exactly what’s going on with this phenomenon. And use small words for me, OK?”
Schreiber nodded in reply. “Very well, Admiral. You know, yes, that the phenomenon has magnetic properties and is emitting a broad spectrum of radiation, mostly of the harmless variety. However, it also has no mass. So, that has us wondering where the radiation and magnetism is coming from, yes?”
The CIA director nodded. “And your theories?”
“We do not know for certain, but it is safe to say that if there is no mass here, yet the radiation is occurring, then it stands to reason that it must be coming from somewhere else. That this phenomenon is less a thing unto itself and more a window or door to another place.”
“Where?”
Schreiber shrugged. “We cannot say. If it is a door, I believe it is one-way.”
This prompted a frown from Hillenkoetter; Danny knew this tidbit wasn’t in the last report he’d seen. “Come again, Doctor?”
“Perhaps, Admiral, a demonstration is in order. Shall we?” Schreiber rose and opened the office door. A moment later, after a bit of consideration, Hillenkoetter walked out, Danny in tow.
The German scientist led them across the complex from the office building to a gigantic metal-sided building, three stories tall and larger than a football field. The MP at the door checked everyone’s ID badges assiduously, even though both Danny and Schreiber were known by sight. They took security seriously there.
Once inside, Schreiber led them through a corridor with offices on either side, which eventually opened up into a large room with a bare concrete floor. There were shaded lightbulbs hanging down from the steel-beam rafters and banks of machinery lining the walls. In the center of the room, sandwiched between two large electromagnets, was the phenomenon — now eight feet wide on all sides, still white, still swirling. Just as Danny had first seen it in Hiroshima.
It still disturbed him for some unknown yet profoundly elemental reason.
There were a handful of scientists working at tables about ten feet away from the vortex, and they scattered as Schreiber approached with his guests, a gesture from the German doctor sending them back to their offices. Schreiber was technically not the project lead, but the other scientists who reported to Danny behind Schreiber’s back called him a genius and, surprisingly, a decent colleague.
“So, gentlemen, there is a thing here that has no mass but has magnetic properties and is emitting radiation, yes? So, we can assume that the radiation comes from somewhere else and this must be a doorway. Do you follow?” Schreiber asked.
“I suppose,” Hillenkoetter said as he stared at the vortex of white light.
Schreiber picked up a tennis ball from a bucket perched on one of the work desks. “But what kind of door? And how does one go through it?” And with that, Schreiber pitched the ball directly toward the center of the light.
It passed through and bounced onto the floor on the other side.
“We have done this many times, with these balls and other objects. We have studied them afterward and found no changes whatsoever as a result of their passage. We have been experimenting on small animals as well. Again, no measurable change,” Schreiber said. “Meanwhile, seemingly at random, the phenomenon will emit another pulse of radiation and energy that, we believe, creates another Variant.”
“How closely can we track those pulses?” Hillenkoetter asked.
“It is very difficult. The best we can manage is directionally, from the point of emission. We cannot determine how far it goes yet, not without dedicated equipment placed across the country — the world, really. So, it is up to your… other assets, I suppose?… to find the new Variant.”
Danny frowned. Schreiber had been nibbling around the edges of the Variant part of MAJESTIC-12 for some time now, even asking to examine each subject to determine how the energy affected them. Danny didn’t even need to refer to Hillenkoetter’s standing orders to decline that request.
“What I’m failing to grasp, after all this time, Doctor, is how you knew to create one of these in Berlin in the first place, and how you knew what it would do.” Hillenkoetter said, finally tearing his eyes away from the vortex to fix a stern glare at the German. “Never did get an answer I liked there.”