Wormhole (The Rho Agenda #3)(33)
“Darling, why don’t you take Anna and Gil down to the kitchen and put on a pot of tea. I’ll shut down your computer and be right down.”
Linda glanced at Anna, nodded, and led the other two out into the hallway and down the stairs.
Fred steadied himself, took in a great gulping breath, and took a seat in front of the laptop. Reaching under the table, he removed the listening device the FBI field agent had given him earlier in the day. Shoving it into his pocket, Fred grabbed the mouse, clicked the START button, selected Shutdown, and waited.
After several seconds, a new window appeared on the laptop:
Please do not power off or unplug your machine.
Installing update 1 of 2.
Fred shook his head. Damned Microsoft automatic updates. He’d have to remember to disable those next time he logged on to Linda’s computer.
Rising to his feet, he walked out of the room. Time to go visit with Linda and his friends, to spend some time talking about their kids. And as bad as the situation seemed, their kids were still alive. That certainly made the world feel a whole lot more manageable than it had just two days ago.
That damn laptop could take its sweet time shutting down.
Balls Wilson leaned over Dr. Mathews’s shoulder, his eyes scanning the rapidly scrolling computer screen.
“So Bert, did we get the data dump or not?”
“Don’t worry, sir. It’s streaming in right now.”
Dr. Donald Stephenson stared out at his audience, his eyes sweeping across the seated assemblage. The auditorium was completely full, eighteen hundred scientists shifting uneasily in their seats, staring up at him as if he were the Antichrist, hated, but too frightening to ignore.
As Dr. Stephenson watched them watch him, feeling their emotion radiating out, he smiled inwardly. That which you don’t understand, you fear. That which you fear, you hate. Dr. Stephenson understood that feeling and relished it. During his humiliating stint in prison, he had made those sentences his mantra. If his warped childhood had taught him anything, it was an abhorrence of imprisonment. It didn’t really matter whether it was in a bedroom closet or an eight-by-twelve-foot steel-barred cell. For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to make every person in the audience experience what he had had to experience, but it would have been lost on them. For one thing, he was a genius while most of them were morons. It was hard to make a moron understand anything, even with a tactile demonstration.
He realized all of a sudden that they were waiting for him to speak, that in a few more moments he would have introduced what might be called an awkward silence. Dr. Stephenson cleared his throat.
“Fellow scientists, distinguished guests. It is truly an honor to stand before you on this momentous day, a day that represents the dawning of a new age for humanity.”
A soft muttering swept through the crowd, like a soft wind stirring autumn leaves.
“Let me be clear.” Dr. Stephenson’s amplified voice echoed through the auditorium. “Our world hangs in the balance. At this moment, an unstable anomaly lies at the heart of the ATLAS detector, spiraling inexorably out of our control, spiraling toward the end of all we know, toward the end of this fragile existence we treasure.”
He paused to let his words take effect, already beginning to treasure their frightened reaction. “This anomaly, this horrible thing, cannot be slowed, it cannot be stopped. In nine months, thirteen days, four hours, and thirty-two minutes, it will become a black hole. And there is nothing anyone in this world, or the next, can do to stop that from happening.”
A low moan arose from the audience, an ethereal entity that coalesced into physical form. Dread incarnate. Just as satisfying as he had thought it would be. Now, time to play the hero...
“Take heart!” Dr. Stephenson smiled, his thin lips curling reluctantly upward. “Humankind is not yet lost. While my calculations show that the anomaly cannot be stopped, it doesn’t have to happen here. Not on planet Earth.”
“And how is that?” The voice of Dr. Kai Wohler rang out through the auditorium.
“Thank you for that question, Dr. Wohler.” Yes, thank you for those four words, Doctor—so artfully phrased, so erudite. “As you all know, my background for the last couple of decades has revolved around the study of alien technologies under what has been dubbed the Rho Project. As a result of that study, the American government has spawned two minor technological initiatives. The first of these was the cold fusion initiative, the second being the nanotech formula that shows great promise in eradicating all forms of human disease, potentially extending the human life span to hundreds of years.
“Notice that I referred to each of these revolutionary technologies as minor advancements. That is because I have uncovered something on the alien spacecraft that contains far more potential benefit to humanity. In our current predicament, it offers hope where otherwise none should lie.”
Dr. Stephenson inhaled deeply, letting the still air of the Swiss auditorium infuse his lungs as he strolled across the stage, wireless microphone clutched firmly in his left hand. His audience had gone completely silent, an aura of expectancy hovering about them. He wouldn’t make them wait for long.
“What we will now commence is a project of epic proportions, a project to save our planet from complete and utter destruction. If any of you doubt the cost of doing nothing, I will be happy to share my analysis of the data for peer review.”