Music of the Spheres (5 page)

Justine shook her head and clicked her tongue. “Clive, you
know I would never ask you to do anything like that.”

“Then … what?”

“How about the exact opposite?”

Clive stared at her for more than a few seconds, confused.

“But—” Then he sighed. “Oh, I see.” He sounded reluctant,
but said, “Yes, I think that can be arranged.”

11

Quantum Resources :

Toronto :

Canada Corp. :

Toronto was
vastly
different from Ottawa, both in architecture and culture. While the
city planners in the nation’s capital tried to keep the city’s expansion spread
out over a large area, Toronto was home to some of the most impressive
skyscrapers in the country. Where Ottawa was a hub for politics, Toronto’s
focus was commerce.

When Quantum Resources was first chartered, its mandate had
been to develop Kinemet into a usable fuel source for interstellar flight.
Since the
Quanta
missions had consistently failed, and Alex’s mission
had turned into a public relations disaster, Quantum Resources’ ability to
capitalize on the new technology had been severely hampered. After Canada Corp.
bought all outstanding shares and put Quantum Resources under the umbrella of
the Space Mining Division, the Director of SMD had changed QR’s mandate in
order to put the company back on a profitable basis.

In their early years, Quantum Resources had attracted some
of the best thinkers in the field of astronomy and physics, and it would be a
shame to put their collective brain-power to waste. While some of the company’s
resources were reserved for analyzing what they knew about Kinemet in the hopes
of one day turning it into a viable fuel, the main thrust of their efforts was
to improve existing technologies and increase their efficiency.

As a former employee, Michael was still subscribed to their
quarterly meshmail reports. In the last two quarters, and for the first time
since its incorporation, Quantum Resources was in the black.

When the autotaxi dropped Michael off at a high-rise office
complex he didn’t recognize, he rechecked the destination he had entered into
the navigation screen. The directory confirmed this was the location for
Quantum Resources.

It had been several months since Michael had spoken to
Calbert, but at that time his former colleague had not mentioned any upcoming relocation.

Michael authorized the debit charge, and with his overnight
bag in hand he stepped out of the vehicle and entered the building.

In the foyer, he approached the reception kiosk and skimmed
the list of companies. Quantum Resources offices were on the thirtieth floor.

When Michael got out of the elevator, he stepped out into a
scene of chaos. Construction engineers and electricians were putting up walls,
stringing power lines, and setting up computer workstations.

Stepping up to a foreman, Michael said, “Hello, I’m not sure
if I have the right place. Is Calbert Loche here?”

The foreman pointed down a half-built hallway. “Yeah. His
office is back there.”

“Thank you.” Michael smiled and let him get back to work as
he picked his way through the piles of ceiling tiles, steel frames and scatter tools.

When he reached the end of the hall, he heard the
unmistakable voice of his former second-in-command.

“I don’t care how you do it,” Calbert Loche said as he
stared out the window, his back to the door and to Michael. “We need that
meshlink up and running by tonight.”

Calbert turned as Michael stepped inside the incomplete
office, and the clouded look on his face disappeared as he recognized his old
boss. He motioned for Michael to take a seat while he finished his
conversation.

“Yes, there’ll be people here all night. I don’t care about
overtime, just get your guys to have the link hot by morning.” He paused while
listening to the response, then nodded. “Good. That’s what I want to hear.”

Calbert gently touched the comlink sensor at his temple to
disconnect it. His smile widened as he reached across his desk to shake
Michael’s hand.

“Long time no see,” Calbert said, and pointed at Michael’s
chin. “Looks like the weeds are taking over the lawn.”

Michael chuckled, and rubbed his fingers through his graying
beard. “It’s from the stress of dealing with all my sassy employees over the
years,” he said with a grin.

Gesturing to a guest chair on the other side of his desk,
Calbert eased himself into his seat and leaned back.

He regarded Michael with a convivial smile. “How’ve you been
keeping?”

Michael nodded. “Good. Good.”

“Staying busy?”

“Doing a lot of reading.” Michael motioned his hand around
the office. “I didn’t know you guys had relocated.”

“Expanded.”

“What?”

Calbert’s eyes widened. “We’re keeping the main labs where
they are and just moving administration here.”

“Oh? Breakthrough?”

“Ha,” Calbert said. “I wish. No, without any Kinemet, we’re
just spinning our wheels. About six months ago, our grant money ran out, and we
all thought that was it. But then the Chilean Corp. found out about our experiments
with ‘steam cracking’. As it turns out, it’s totally useless for quantum
purposes, but there are other possibilities. They approached us about using the
technology to increase the efficiency of their hydrogen plants. We applied some
of our theories on their systems and nearly doubled their production with only
a marginal increase in expenditure. Since then, we’ve secured contracts with a
dozen other power plants around the world. It ain’t glorious work, but it does
pay the bills.”

“That’s fantastic,” Michael said.

“And the extra profit keeps Ottawa off our backs, and allows
us to maintain our labs on CS3, which,” he said, his voice measured and
careful, “is why you’re here. Right?”

Nodding, Michael said, “Yes. I got a strange call last night
from Alex.”

“I know. I received the report this morning.” Calbert stood
up and looked out the window. “You know my hands are tied. SMD holds our
charter and they call the shots. I’m just a pencil pusher, as far as they are
concerned. I wish I could help.”

Michael cleared his throat. “Maybe you still can.”

“How?” Calbert asked. “I know you’ve tried to go through
Alliras, but since USA, Inc. stopped funding us, SMD isn’t willing to spend
resources actively looking for more Kinemet. We don’t have any in our
possession, and if NASA has any left over, they’re not fessing up.”

“I know.”

Calbert, sounding defensive and frustrated at the same time,
said, “I’ve got some contacts on the SMD survey teams. If anyone uncovers even
a hint of Kinemet, you can be sure I’ll know about it in two shakes.”

“I know,” Michael repeated.

“I’m sure things will turn around in a few years and we can
begin mining Kinemet again.”

Michael shook his head. “Alex doesn’t have that long. But
that’s not what I want to talk to you about.”

“It isn’t?”

“Do you have a transcript of the call I received from Alex?”
Michael knew Calbert did. Alex was a very well guarded and unique secret, and
anything and everything he said was catalogued, charted and analyzed.

“Yeah…?”

Michael cocked his head. “He asked me to find Yaxche.”

“I heard about the kidnapping and the theft. I feel bad for
the old man, but as far as that scroll is concerned, it’s a lost cause. I’m not
sure why anyone would go to all the trouble.”

“But someone did.” Michael leaned back in the chair. “Alex
obviously thinks there’s more there than what we’ve uncovered, and the thieves
also think so as well. And, I’m not sure if you noticed, but Alex asked me to
find the man, not the scroll.”

Calbert slowly sat down again. “I did notice that. What do
you think it means? Do you think Alex knows something we don’t?”

“If he does, he’s not conscious of it. But it feels like
there is some validity to this, even if there’s not concrete evidence. Maybe
there’s something that’s been lost in translation.”

“All right,” said Calbert. “Let’s say there’s some merit in
finding Yaxche—outside of the humanitarian reasons. What makes you think the
Honduran Conglomerate isn’t already doing its best?”

“Maybe they don’t think he’s as high a priority as I do,”
Michael answered. “Or as important as Alex does.”

Rubbing his upper lip, Calbert said, “Not saying I agree or
disagree, but even if I did, what can I do?”

“Is George Markowitz doing anything important for the next
couple of weeks?”

“George?” Calbert sat forward, looking genuinely surprised.
“What does he have to do with this?”

“I’m going to Honduras to look for Yaxche. I’d like George
to come with me. More specifically, I’d like you to
assign
him to come
with me.”

“Why?”

Michael lifted his hand and ticked off a finger. “First of
all, he’s the only person I know who’s met Yaxche. George has been down there a
few times. He knows the area. Besides, he’s extremely good at research and
these kinds of practical puzzles.”

Touching his next finger, Michael said, “Secondly, if you
give him this assignment and put it on paper, it will give us a certain amount
of legitimacy with the Copán Departmental. We can say we’re on official
business. Otherwise I’m just a nosy tourist.”

Calbert took a breath. “This is all a bit much before I’ve
had my second coffee, Michael. Have you even given any consideration to the Cruzados?
If they are indeed the ones who kidnapped him, do you think they’ll just hand
him over to a retired desk jockey?”

“I’m not planning a guerilla incursion,” Michael said. “Once
we track down where he is, we’ll call in the Honduran authorities to take over.
I know they consider the document a national treasure. They’ll take action. Besides,
I’m getting arthritis in my knees; I’m no hero.”

Calbert leaned back in his chair. “I’m still not convinced.”

“Tell you what, give us a couple of weeks. If we end up with
nothing but dysentery, then we’ll come home. Unless, of course, you need George
for anything…?”

“No, we’ve got him analyzing hydro fluctuations; any intern
can do it.”

“Well, then?”

Calbert shrugged. “All right. Fine. Let’s go talk to George
and see how he feels about it.”

∞

Calbert fought traffic all the way across the city as he
drove Michael to the Quantum Resources labs.

As one of the few country corporations that still operated
on a profitable basis, Canada Corp. attracted immigrants from all over the
world. The national policy had always been to welcome the influx of people, but
in the major cities the infrastructure was strained to the limit. In the past
two years, the government had issued a moratorium on new visas.

Population and overcrowding had always been a concern. Space
stations and moon colonies were far too expensive to provide a feasible
solution to overcrowding. In the back of Michael’s mind—as with others, he was
sure—the possibility of life-sustaining worlds in other solar systems would
become a primary consideration once they made contact with the alien culture that
had built the star beacons.

When the first
Quanta
mission was announced, there
had been a swell of hope for the future, and as a result there had also been
something of a population explosion as people anticipated interstellar trade,
commerce, and migration.

That hope had been dashed when Alex returned with the news
that he had not made contact, and that there were no signs of life in Centauri.
The failed attempts to develop the electropathic ability in other pilots, and
the subsequent mothballing of the
Quanta
projects only served to
decrease worldwide confidence. As markets plunged and country corporations
fell, there was an increase in civil unrest and crime rates around the world.

In his mind, Michael felt as if he had a responsibility for the
direction in which humankind was going, since he had been involved from the
start. Perhaps some of his discontentment in the past few years was because he
considered the entire affair unfinished business.

He wanted to help Alex, there was no doubt of that; but at
the same time he felt reinvigorated now that he had renewed his purpose.

“I’ve been thinking,” Calbert said as he swerved to avoid
hitting a courier drone. “With our current expansion, we’re going to be
recruiting more technicians and researchers. They’re going to need someone
grounded in science in an administrative capacity.”

“Oh?” Michael’s interest was piqued.

“Maybe when you get back you might consider taking a
position with the company. I was going to ask you a few months ago, but…”

A few months ago Michael would have said ‘no’; he had been
too torn with grief over his wife. Melanie had always been supportive of his
career, and he knew she would not have wanted to see him wallow in a
directionless existence. Now, things were different.

“That sounds perfect,” he said immediately, unable to keep
from grinning like a boy.

“We’ll work out the details later. Of course, there are a
couple of conditions.”

Michael nodded. “Shoot.”

“First, you would have to be able to take orders from me.
It’s a bit of a role-reversal from the last time we worked together.”

“I have no problem with that,” Michael said, and he meant
it. He had always had complete faith in Calbert, otherwise he would never have
recommended him for his current position as CEO of Quantum Resources, Inc.
“Anything else?”

“Just one more thing,” Calbert said in a drawl.

“Yeah?”

Calbert pointed. “Get rid of the beard.”

∞

They arrived at the Quantum Resources labs without incident,
and went in search of George Markowitz. When they found him, he was sitting
inside an sealed glass tank filled with water. He wore a wetsuit and a complex
mask that looked like something out of a science fiction novel. Inside the
green-tinted lenses, lights flashed as sensors picked up data and transmitted
it to a computer off to the side.

When he spotted Michael and Calbert, George surfaced and
pulled the mask off.

“Michael!” he said. “Long time.”