As Tom made it to the doorway, the stench of burning flesh caught in his throat making him look back at Deiter, who was staring with incredulity at the void in his chest. Tom wanted to avert his eyes, but he was transfixed. As Deiter sank to his knees, the beam travelled up his back towards his head, vaporising skin and bone. Tom already knew that the image, so vividly emblazoned in his mind, would haunt him for the rest of his life.
CHAPTER 40
It was just after two in the morning when the Sherriff’s posse arrived to search the tunnels. Tom explained to them what had just taken place. With a successful beam dump and system shut-down, a Coroner was called who pronounced Deiter dead at the scene — a surprise to no one, given the horrific injuries. What was left of his decapitated body was taken away and deposited at the County morgue.
Tom had made use of the extra man-power to search for the override panel that Deiter had tripped, to deactivate the thermal shields. By 4 am, the officers had found the breaker, reset it and then decamped to their homes for a well-deserved rest, leaving Jed and Tom alone in the control room to restart the collider.
The effects of the adrenalin rush that Tom had experienced during the fight were wearing off, leaving him tired and drained. What was more, he could feel the site of every punch and kick where Deiter had struck his body over the last twenty-four hours. He had patched himself up as best he could using a first aid box and a mirror in the washroom, but his face looked as though it had gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson. The cut above his eye would need re-stitching; however, for the time being, it would have to make do with a temporary dressing held in place with sticking plasters.
‘Ya look like shite. Are ya sure ya can carry on?’ Jed asked, troubled by his friend’s appearance.
‘I’m fine,’ replied Tom. ‘Besides, I don’t think I’ve got much choice. Somebody has to make sure you don’t overlook anything this time.’ Tom was referring to Jed’s oversight at not checking whether the thermal shields were activated the last time they ran the collider.
‘Bollocks!’ was Jed’s only response.
‘Now boys, play nicely!’
They both turned in their chairs at the sound of Serena’s voice.
‘Serena, what are you doing here? Have they discharged you?’ Tom got up to give her his seat.
‘Not exactly,’ she replied. ‘I discharged myself. I overheard the nurses talking about the fugitive who had murdered their doctor — they said he’d been cornered here. Apparently, there’d been a shootout and he’d been killed. So I came to see if you two were alright and if you needed any help. And, by the look of your face, Tom, it’s a good job I did.’
‘You could have just phoned,’ Tom said reproachfully, concerned for her well-being.
‘And would you have told me the truth?’ Serena gave him a knowing look.
‘Well… probably not,’ Tom had to admit.
‘So, now I’m here, what do you want me to do?’ The determination in her voice put an end to any thoughts Tom may have had about persuading her to go back to the hospital.
Acquiescing, Tom grabbed a spare chair and pulled it up to join the other two. ‘Okay, Jed and I will operate the collider, while you monitor any changes in direction or speed of magnetic north. We’re looking for a decrease in acceleration.’ He pointed to the last column of figures displayed in the table on the laptop. ‘If you see an increase, let us know immediately and we’ll shut the system down.’
‘Then what do we do?’ Serena asked.
‘Pray and head for higher ground. Ideally where there are no volcanoes,’ he smiled ruefully. ‘But I’m sure that won’t be necessary,’ he added optimistically, in an attempt to bolster everybody’s spirits, but neither of his two colleagues were convinced.
Four hours into the collider’s operation and they were gradually joined by a stream of technicians just starting their day. Word was going around the complex about what they were trying to achieve, drawing a small crowd that formed in a semi-circle behind the three seated individuals. Within the hour the room was packed, spilling out into the corridors, the latecomers being informed of any changes by the people who could see the gigantic image on the wall, projected from Serena’s laptop. Jed had had to set up the connection in response to the ‘How’s it going?’ question invariably asked by new arrivals.
The simple answer was that it wasn’t going anywhere. The collider was running at its maximum capacity within the safety parameters dictated by the thermal shields, but it didn’t seem to be having an effect on the geomagnetic field, which was still accelerating in a southerly direction.
‘Jed, we need more power,’ Tom instructed.
‘I’m giving it all she’s got, Captain,’ Jed replied in a strong, virtually indecipherable Scottish accent.
‘Sorry?’ Tom said, a little taken aback.
‘Ah, you’re obviously not a Trekkie,’ Jed responded, rather embarrassed.
‘Trekkie?’
‘Star Trek,’ Jed clarified.
‘Sorry, I’ve never watched it.’
‘Feck me, you call yourself a man of science and you’ve never seen Star Trek!’ Jed tut-tutted whilst shaking his head.
‘…and the power?’ Tom prompted.
‘If I increase the power, the system will reach critical temperature sooner and will shut down prematurely,’ Jed explained.
‘It might be worth the risk. A short, intense blast of electromagnetic radiation might have more of an effect than a sustained weaker field.’
‘Aye, Aye Captain,’ replied Jed. ‘Switching to warp speed.’
‘More Star Trek?’ Tom ventured.
Jed just smiled and turned back to the control panel, keying in a new set of instructions which increased the speed of the beams circulating the collider. He flicked to a new screen that showed a corresponding rise in the core temperature. He split the screen and had the two sets of figures running side by side. He raised the power further. An increase in beam velocity was followed by an incremental rise in temperature.
‘At this speed, I reckon we’ve got fifteen minutes before the failsafe kicks in and the system shuts down,’ Jed advised.
‘Any change in the field’s acceleration?’ Tom asked Serena.
‘No, it’s still the same.’
‘Can you increase the power anymore?’
‘Marginally, but the running time will be reduced,’ Jed replied.
‘Do it!’ Tom directed.
As Jed returned his attention to the control panel, Tom looked up at the image from the laptop projected onto the wall in front of him, willing the red line to slow down.
‘Five minutes to shut-down,’ Jed announced.
The red line seemed stationary, but the scrolling numeric values indicated otherwise. It was still accelerating.
‘Four minutes,’ Jed continued.
Still no change.
‘Three minutes.’
Tom studied the acceleration figures in the last column of the table. Had he discerned a slight variance?
‘Two minutes.’
Yes, it was definitely there. He stood up to get a better view; his focus never wavered, shutting out everything around him apart from the scrolling figures on the wall.
‘One minute.’
The values were diminishing. It still meant the field was accelerating, but not by as much.
‘Thirty seconds.’
The figures continued to fall towards zero. Someone at the back of the room shouted out that it was stopping; he was silenced by a hundred pairs of eyes turning in his direction, willing him to be quiet, as if his outburst would change the outcome.