Ten Months After The Eastwood Event
Mary poured herself a third cup of coffee while studying the notes she’d scribbled on a cocktail napkin in the breakroom. She tapped her ballpoint pen on the table and reviewed the list again:
Possible Power Sources
Chemical (eats nothing, but grows like a beanstalk)
Solar (no exposure for months)
Triboelectric, Piezoelectric, and Pyroelectric Effects (no electrostatic discharge, no static cling)
Electromagnetic Induction (no magnetic fields)
Nuclear Fission (no detectable radiation beyond background noise)
Cold Fusion (implausible, no observable byproducts)
Antimatter? (not enough released energy for an annihilation event when he touches things)
Remote Transmission…?
And proceeded to add in the margins, (If he’s the receiver, where’s the transmitter?) when she heard a voice behind her.
“What is the subject’s progression, Dr. Adelaide?”
She didn’t startle. She didn’t attempt to hide the notes. Instead, she placed her cup on the table, straightened her back, and turned to face her boss with a neutral expression. She spoke in the formal voice she’d perfected at university, “There’s been a slight increase in the total mass of sand delivered to Containment Unit 007-1 this week. The list of substances susceptible to the subject’s ability has not decreased, but he shows no tangible signs of progress.” That wasn’t strictly true, as Daniel had made huge strides in his education and gained several inches of height, but she didn’t think those comments would go over well with this audience.
Director M wore a pinstripe suit to work every day and was meticulous in styling her hair for optimal professionalism. She was a lean woman in her forties with a sharp eye for detail and an understated, somewhat odd sense of humor, “It was inevitable, given our predicament, the subject’s singular weakness would be one of the world’s most precious metals. If we had the funds, I’d authorize CU 007-2 to be built entirely of gold—” The woman took on a quiet, pensive look, “—Regardless, we should begin researching the effectiveness of its alloys and platinum group metals immediately.”
Affecting nonchalance, Dr. Adelaide took a sip of coffee, “That can’t be the reason you ventured out of your office, ma’am.”
“You are correct, Doctor.” The Director scanned the hall to make sure they were alone, stepped closer, and lowered her voice to a solid whisper, “Realizing UE 007 is a bit of a ‘pet project’ for you, I’ve decided to speak with you in person about the topic before committing it to documentation. There will be no record of this conversation, written or otherwise.”
Mary swallowed. “The topic being?”
“UE 007 represents too large a threat to the security of this Facility.” She stated this as an unambiguous fact obvious to everyone. “There is a growing school of thought the UEs not relevant to UE 000 should be terminated, and I am not a small voice in that contingent.”
“That seems tremendously shortsighted, and an egregious undercutting of my work.”
“I realize how inconvenient that would be to your research, Doctor, which is why I’m giving you this chance to represent your interests.”
“Why take my words under consideration when you already stated you are personally against the prospect?” Adelaide asked.
Director M seemed a tad insulted by her question, eyebrow twitching. “I respect your work as a scientist, Dr. Adelaide. That is why I appointed you Head of Research, above those who attempted to gain the position through artifice and connections instead of merit. To see through pretense and circumvent bureaucracy is the reason I was made Director of this Facility when the crisis first arose.” The Director was known for valuing objectivity and held her judgments to a high standard of impersonal logic.
The Director continued, “If we reach an agreement, the two of us will present a unified front to Those Above in our reports—ensuring a mutual saving of face.” Mary’s career was at stake, that’s what this was about. If Dr. Adelaide fought the Director on this publicly, it would cost her. She needed her boss on her side, now. “I want your frank assessment of the UEs’ prospects for practical use.”
“UEs 001 and 004 are tremendously simple to weaponize,” Dr. Adelaide began, “Though much more difficult to recover. There is a high probability they could be useful in an operation against the barrier around UE 000.
“I’ve enumerated the medical, military, and industrial applications of my research on UE 003. I think my body of work stands for itself in justifying the subject’s preservation—much like a wildlife preserve being declared for an endangered species with the potential to cure diseases.
“UEs 002, 005, and 006 might seem more difficult cases to represent, but none of them are high-level threats, and all of them speak to the progress of science. The fundamental changes to our basic understanding of physics—let alone biology—will be discussed for decades. We owe it to posterity to preserve them, even at exorbitant costs.
“As for UE 007, the subject has been resistant to use its abilities. However, I am confident that, given time, I can erase that resistance—while preserving enough control to refrain from damaging UE 000 during a successful operation.”
The Director had been nodding slowly through her impromptu presentation. Mary hoped the woman’s need to be objective would compensate for the initial prejudice. “A reasonable plan. Justifying the UEs individually makes each argument easier to accept.” She turned to exit the room, satisfied.
“Ma’am, have you come to a decision?”
Looking back at her subordinate, the Director said, “You’ve made your points, Dr. Adelaide. I sincerely hope you are satisfied with the results. I will reflect your concerns in my report,” then, as an aside, “Since the most dangerous UEs also have the most potential, it is likely you will be keeping your test subjects.”
She rounded the corner and then, after a second, reentered the room, “Dr. Adelaide, we have never seen UE 007’s full capabilities. See that when we do, it is under controlled circumstances.”
Ten Months After The Eastwood Event
Mary poured herself a third cup of coffee while studying the notes she’d scribbled on a cocktail napkin in the breakroom. She tapped her ballpoint pen on the table and reviewed the list again:
Possible Power Sources
Chemical (eats nothing, but grows like a beanstalk)
Solar (no exposure for months)
Triboelectric, Piezoelectric, and Pyroelectric Effects (no electrostatic discharge, no static cling)
Electromagnetic Induction (no magnetic fields)
Nuclear Fission (no detectable radiation beyond background noise)
Cold Fusion (implausible, no observable byproducts)
Antimatter? (not enough released energy for an annihilation event when he touches things)
Remote Transmission…?
And proceeded to add in the margins, (If he’s the receiver, where’s the transmitter?) when she heard a voice behind her.
“What is the subject’s progression, Dr. Adelaide?”
She didn’t startle. She didn’t attempt to hide the notes. Instead, she placed her cup on the table, straightened her back, and turned to face her boss with a neutral expression. She spoke in the formal voice she’d perfected at university, “There’s been a slight increase in the total mass of sand delivered to Containment Unit 007-1 this week. The list of substances susceptible to the subject’s ability has not decreased, but he shows no tangible signs of progress.” That wasn’t strictly true, as Daniel had made huge strides in his education and gained several inches of height, but she didn’t think those comments would go over well with this audience.
Director M wore a pinstripe suit to work every day and was meticulous in styling her hair for optimal professionalism. She was a lean woman in her forties with a sharp eye for detail and an understated, somewhat odd sense of humor, “It was inevitable, given our predicament, the subject’s singular weakness would be one of the world’s most precious metals. If we had the funds, I’d authorize CU 007-2 to be built entirely of gold—” The woman took on a quiet, pensive look, “—Regardless, we should begin researching the effectiveness of its alloys and platinum group metals immediately.”
Affecting nonchalance, Dr. Adelaide took a sip of coffee, “That can’t be the reason you ventured out of your office, ma’am.”
“You are correct, Doctor.” The Director scanned the hall to make sure they were alone, stepped closer, and lowered her voice to a solid whisper, “Realizing UE 007 is a bit of a ‘pet project’ for you, I’ve decided to speak with you in person about the topic before committing it to documentation. There will be no record of this conversation, written or otherwise.”
Mary swallowed. “The topic being?”
“UE 007 represents too large a threat to the security of this Facility.” She stated this as an unambiguous fact obvious to everyone. “There is a growing school of thought the UEs not relevant to UE 000 should be terminated, and I am not a small voice in that contingent.”
“That seems tremendously shortsighted, and an egregious undercutting of my work.”
“I realize how inconvenient that would be to your research, Doctor, which is why I’m giving you this chance to represent your interests.”
“Why take my words under consideration when you already stated you are personally against the prospect?” Adelaide asked.
Director M seemed a tad insulted by her question, eyebrow twitching. “I respect your work as a scientist, Dr. Adelaide. That is why I appointed you Head of Research, above those who attempted to gain the position through artifice and connections instead of merit. To see through pretense and circumvent bureaucracy is the reason I was made Director of this Facility when the crisis first arose.” The Director was known for valuing objectivity and held her judgments to a high standard of impersonal logic.
The Director continued, “If we reach an agreement, the two of us will present a unified front to Those Above in our reports—ensuring a mutual saving of face.” Mary’s career was at stake, that’s what this was about. If Dr. Adelaide fought the Director on this publicly, it would cost her. She needed her boss on her side, now. “I want your frank assessment of the UEs’ prospects for practical use.”
“UEs 001 and 004 are tremendously simple to weaponize,” Dr. Adelaide began, “Though much more difficult to recover. There is a high probability they could be useful in an operation against the barrier around UE 000.
“I’ve enumerated the medical, military, and industrial applications of my research on UE 003. I think my body of work stands for itself in justifying the subject’s preservation—much like a wildlife preserve being declared for an endangered species with the potential to cure diseases.
“UEs 002, 005, and 006 might seem more difficult cases to represent, but none of them are high-level threats, and all of them speak to the progress of science. The fundamental changes to our basic understanding of physics—let alone biology—will be discussed for decades. We owe it to posterity to preserve them, even at exorbitant costs.
“As for UE 007, the subject has been resistant to use its abilities. However, I am confident that, given time, I can erase that resistance—while preserving enough control to refrain from damaging UE 000 during a successful operation.”
The Director had been nodding slowly through her impromptu presentation. Mary hoped the woman’s need to be objective would compensate for the initial prejudice. “A reasonable plan. Justifying the UEs individually makes each argument easier to accept.” She turned to exit the room, satisfied.
“Ma’am, have you come to a decision?”
Looking back at her subordinate, the Director said, “You’ve made your points, Dr. Adelaide. I sincerely hope you are satisfied with the results. I will reflect your concerns in my report,” then, as an aside, “Since the most dangerous UEs also have the most potential, it is likely you will be keeping your test subjects.”
She rounded the corner and then, after a second, reentered the room, “Dr. Adelaide, we have never seen UE 007’s full capabilities. See that when we do, it is under controlled circumstances.”
