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  Patricia Hammond became very angry. “Remove me from office? You haven’t got the balls. I am down here making sure the people who elected me are being taken care of, and for your information, there is an agreement between the Navy and the City of San Pedro that in an emergency we can use this ship to help out these people. It’s a part of the agreement that got the ship down here in the first place. And if you didn’t have your head stuffed squarely up your ass, you would have been down here yesterday instead of sitting in Sacramento trying to get me to bow down. Well, I’m doing my job. My people are doing fine without you. So Governor, the best thing you can do is buzz off!” she shouted before ending the conversation. She was still steaming as she walked rapidly away. What she did not realize was that the media cameras continued to gather video and sound during the conversation. Within ten minutes it was flashed across the United States that the Mayor of San Pedro had told the Governor of California to buzz off.

  Frankfurt, Germany

  Hammond turned on the television set in his room and turned it on to CNN. He was surprised to see his wife, and even more surprised at what she had done. He sat back and laughed, then placed a call.

  “Mayor Hammond.”

  “You are beautiful when you’re angry,” he said.

  He could hear her lighten up at the other end. “He just pissed me off. You know how I can be.”

  Hammond’s laughter was genuine. “Yes, but promise me you won’t kick him in the privates when you see him.”

  She was laughing now on the other end. “I promise. You about to come home?”

  “One more day. These are good people. I wish you were here.”

  “I wish I was too, but we’ll manage. Your son slept in your cabin last night,” she said.

  “I bet he liked that. You two weren’t hurt much, we you?”

  “No, a couple of scratches. We were outside when it happened. I don’t know how our home fared yet. Maybe I’ll get over there sometime today.”

  “You need me to come home?”

  “No, you’d be in the way. Let me get everything online here and I should still get to DC in a couple of weeks. I can’t wait to see you again.”

  “Yea, I miss you too. I’ll call again when I get the chance. Tell Steve I said hi.”

  “Will do. See you soon.”

  “Bye.”

  Chapter 4

  Acceptance

  David Taylor

  Dr. Mason was angry. One of his team members had screwed up the latest plate, allowing it to remain in the oven far too long. Already they had determined the new material would completely absorb radio frequency radiation, but they also discovered that it was an astounding antenna. When coupled to a receiver, its ability to pull in distant signals had been amazing. Sticking the initial plate on top of the building, they had picked up television signals from Toronto, Canada. AM radio, they picked up from as far as Honolulu. The Center had then purchased a large oven that would allow them to make plates up to four feet square, nearly three times the original plate. But then the young assistant had begun working on something on his computer and didn’t pay attention to the timing. He had also set the temperature too high. As a result, the plate had come out of the oven black, instead of the usual gray.

  Mason watched heat radiate off the plate, now cooling on a wooden table. He walked over to it and looked into the black surface. It was the deepest black he had ever seen. The surface looked smooth as glass, but there were no reflections in it. Reaching over the plate, he tried to feel how hot it really was, when a small arc of electricity shot off the brass attachment grommet and struck his arm, accompanied by the sound of a crack.

  The jolt knocked Mason back from the table and onto the floor. The young assistant rushed over. “Are you alright?” he blurted out, concerned.

  Mason picked himself up off the floor and looked at the plate. “How the hell did that happen?” he exclaimed. “We don’t have a short in here, do we?”

  The assistant shook his head. “No, there’s no electricity to that table at all.”

  The men walked around the table looking for a possible electrical source. There was none. They looked at each other. “Beats me,” said the assistant.

  Mason put on some rubber gloves and grabbed a grounding tool. After making sure it was grounded, he passed the copper probe near the grommet again. Once again, a spark shot from the grommet to the probe. Backing away again, Mason looked at the young man. “What the hell,” he exclaimed.

  Both men simply stared at the plate for a moment until the assistant rolled over a piece of test equipment. “Let’s see how much voltage we are talking about there.”

  Attaching a copper lead to the wire from the voltage meter, he eased the end of the probe to the grommet once again. This time, he forced the probe onto the piece of brass. The meter jumped off the initial scale. Resetting the equipment for a different scale, he did it again. The meter reached 450 volts and remained steady.

  Mason looked at the man again. “This doesn’t make sense. What is causing this thing to hold a charge?”

  “Is it holding a charge or generating the power itself?” the assistant thought out loud. He grabbed a black apron sitting on the chair beside them and threw it over the plate, partially covering it. Immediately, the meter dropped to 275 volts.

  Mason’s face became very animated. “It has to be the lights. Let me hold this and you go turn off the overheads,” he nearly shouted.

  With all but the light on the meter turned off, the voltage dropped to zero. Mason turned to the young man, “Get me a box or something to put this thing in. It has to be light proof. Then get Dr. Thomas over here. I want to take this thing outside,” he said.

  A large diameter steel wire was bolted to the grommet while the assistant brought in a cardboard box that had recently covered the oven. After some cutting and the liberal use of duct tape, the plate was secured inside it.

  “What’s going on Greg,” asked Thomas as he entered the lab.

  “Boss, this may be even bigger than we thought. Come with us outside,” he said as he and the assistant placed the plate in its box and put it on a rolling cart. The voltage meter was placed under it. The men walked down the hall as Mason explained what had happened. Exiting the corridor, they entered a courtyard where several antennas and steel towers were erected. Still wearing his rubber gloves, Mason set the meter to its highest setting and touched the lead to the steel cable. Already there was some voltage just from light leaking through the cardboard. Urging everyone to step back, Mason used a box cutter to cut along the tape binding. When done, he threw back the cardboard top.

  The voltage meter wires melted before their eyes. A bolt of electricity shot from the steel cable across the ground to a steel support just three feet away. The sound of the arcs of electricity crackled in the air until Mason threw the cover back over the plate.

  “My God!” exclaimed Thomas. “This is unbelievable!”

  Mason nodded and walked over to the smoldering meter. The needle on the dial had frozen in place as it had jumped the top of the scale of over 10,000 volts. The look on the men’s faces was total astonishment. Before, the plate had absorbed RF. Now it was turning sunlight into electricity. Not just a little, but a whole lot. Thomas looked back at Mason. “Greg, call the power company. I want to hook this up to one of their big meters. If this is what I think it is, young Mister Maxwell has just solved the energy crisis and global warming. Can we duplicate it?”

  Mason nodded. “The only thing changed was the temperature and duration. The lab is still making filaments, so we can make another within 12 hours. Our problem is transporting this thing. It needs to be kept in a lightproof box. If not, it might fry anyone near it.”

  Thomas nodded. “Do whatever it takes. I’m going to make some calls. I think this just got bumped up to a much higher level.”

  The Pentagon

  “Roger, Claire, I appreciate the brief on what is going on over there,” said Burt Williams, Unders
ecretary of Defense for Intelligence. “We’ve been keeping an eye on things going on, but it’s great to understand their thinking. Do they think any of this will work?”

  Hammond chuckled, “No, but they realize something has to be done that’s outside the norm. With the numbers we’re facing, they could walk all over us if we do things the old way. They are actually taking a few things from our book. Hit them where they least expect it, keep nipping at their flanks and in their soft spots. Short, quick strikes, then back off. Any direct assault will end up with a lot of dead people and broken equipment. But our European allies are at the end of their rope. They just don’t have the kinds of capabilities we have, or they don’t have enough. Even the Brits are scrambling to find answers. Quite frankly, they are hoping we can make the difference. Unfortunately, I’m not sure we can in this situation. My team is wrapping up the study and it isn’t looking good. Our one chance is if our technology can make up the difference. We are so far ahead in some areas it could change quite a bit,” Hammond said to the group.

  “That little thing we are testing over at David Taylor may help tremendously,” said Mark Price, Undersecretary for Acquisition, Technology and Logistics. “I got a call from Dr. Thomas a little earlier. It appears it will do all you thought and much more,” he said to Hammond. “I also got a call about those drones, you asked about, General. It appears they could be manufactured with a weapon for just $500 more per unit. After a little bit of testing, we might get them in a year or so,” he said.

  Richardson sat forward in her seat. “Sir, I don’t think we have a year. I don’t think we have six months. Things are moving way too fast. Our European friends agree we will see something begin within four months. Is there a chance we can get the things before that?” she asked.

  Price looked concerned. “Our hands may be tied. With all the procurement regulations, we just can’t do it within that time frame,” he said as he looked at the front of the table.

  The Secretary of Defense sat with his fingertips together, obviously deep in thought. He looked up and around the room. “Actually, I believe you’re right. When I talked to the President this morning, he said the same thing. What do the Joint Chiefs think?”

  General Black didn’t waiver. “It’s going to happen. We either ignore it and pay the consequence or we jump in with both feet. I will say this. If war starts, it will be too late to start anything. The Russians will run all over Europe. We may not have to worry much at first, but it will eventually meet us right here. We need all the tools in the tool box,” he said.

  The Secretary nodded his head, then his face adopted a determined look. “I don’t want to take a head-in-sand approach. Mark, let’s get things rolling. I’ll talk to Congress and let them know what’s happening. I feel sure they won’t hold us back too much. Draw up the contracts to get those drones. I also want those plates manufactured and installed on every ship and plane that we can. I’ll leave the tactical uses to you,” he said to Black. “I also want to know what other materials and equipment we need so that our people are fully equipped for this thing. We’re not going in wanting. How many of those drones do you think we need,” he asked Richardson.

  “Sir, if we use them like I would want to, I need thousands,” she said.

  Price grinned. “At only $4,500 apiece, it’s a small price to pay. My people will get this thing done within a few days. From what I understand, the manufacturer had proposed this when they bid on the initial contract and we told them no guns. They just grind off the supports instead of redesigning it. I am told they can manufacture a couple hundred a day if we need them.”

  “Make it happen. I am calling the President now. I’m sure you all know he will be behind this. As of now, we are going on a war footing as far as acquisitions go. If our guys need it, get it. Within reason, of course,” he grinned. “Thank you all for filling us in. Now let’s get going.”

  The men and women got up from the table and began making their way out. Price stopped Hammond and Black as they were leaving. “Roger, you haven’t heard, but there’s an extra benefit to young Mister Maxwell’s discovery.”

  “Oh really?”

  Price nodded. “They had a small screw up over there and left it in the oven too long. What came out is totally different from what we started with. It seems in sunlight, that four foot square plate generated over 10,000 volts of electricity.”

  Black let out a whistle. “Good Lord, that’s way more than any solar panel I know of.”

  Price nodded again. “I asked Thomas to get Maxwell back up here. We need to make sure he gets in on all of this. Papers need to be written and patents filed. This is one young man I want to watch out for.”

  Hammond smiled. “I’d appreciate that. He was one of my people on the Iowa. Anything you can do to help him out would be welcome.”

  Price held up his hand. “Well, I do have ulterior motives. I am hoping he will allow us to manufacture it for the military. We’ll pay him for it, but then we’ll also help him sell this second version to the power companies across the country. Unless I’m mistaken, he’s just become a billionaire.”

  Krakow, Poland

  Petyr and Freda had just finished their lunch when her phone rang. The message had been clear. Get to the hospital. Her mother had taken a turn for the worse. The look on Freda’s face told Petyr all he needed to know. The news had been very bad.

  After several weeks of going around together it was obvious to anyone, they were meant for each other. Petyr had become one of the family - even sitting and talking to her parents until late on some evenings. Likewise, Freda had become a staple with Petyr’s family. On two separate occasions, the families had come together for a meal. They were becoming close friends.

  It took fifteen minutes for the two to get to the hospital on the tram. Rushing into the room they found Mr. Polski sitting beside the bed, holding his wife’s hand. Her brother sat alone in a chair in the corner of the room. His face was a mask of concern and confusion. It was obvious he didn’t really know what to do.

  Letting go of Petyr’s hand, Freda rushed to the opposite side of the bed and looked at her mother. She was very pale and her breaths were more like gasps. She could tell her mother was having a very bad time breathing. Looking at the gauge on the wall, she could tell the oxygen supply had been turned all the way up. The heart monitor barely showed the beatings of her heart. You could hear the oxygen coming out of the tube under her nose. Looking at her father, she saw the sad look she rarely saw on his face.

  Turning back to her mother she called out to her. Mrs. Polski’s eyes fluttered open. She gently squeezed Freda’s hand.

  “We came as soon as we heard,” Freda told her mother.

  A faint smile crossed her mother’s face. Taking a very bubbly, heavy breath, she said, “You need not worry about me. I think it is my time.”

  A tear appeared at the corner of Freda’s eye. “But there’s so much we still need to do,” she said with a forced smile.

  The smile appeared again and her eyes focused in. “Now, now. No tears. You and Rudy have always been the pride of my life,” she said with difficulty. Her voice was faltering and she had to pause between each sentence. “Watching the two of you grow up has been wonderful. I only wish I could always be there for you. Rudy will have his Papa, but who will take care of my little girl?” she asked slowly.

  It was a steady and determined voice that answered. Everyone turned as Petyr said, “I will.”

  A look of calm came over Mrs. Polski’s face. The smile brightened and a little color returned. Petyr stood next to Freda now and she could tell by his look that he had meant what he said. Slowly, she lifted her frail hand and took his. She then placed both his and Freda’s hands between her own. “I believe you will,” she said steadily. The smile widened to a grin. “Now I can leave content,” she said. Her hands seemed to go limp as she let go of them. They fell to the bed.

  She turned to her husband. After taking a long breath, the palenes
s returned as she turned almost white. “Hector, you made me very happy,” she said.

  Mr. Polski took her hand again. “And you have done the same for me. But let’s not talk. Just get some rest,” he said.

  She nodded weakly before her eyes closed. No one took their eyes from her. The heart monitor let out an alarm as her heart took its last beat, then rested. Despite the rushing of the hospital staff, the family kept their eyes on her face. It was the most serenely happy expression any of them could remember seeing. After a minute of trying, Mr. Polski urged them to stop. He would not prolong her suffering.

  Freda turned to Petyr and placed her face in his shoulder. There were tears, but no weeping. Petyr held her closely as the nurse pulled the blanket over her mother’s head. Rudy stood stunned. He had never witnessed death and he stood there not knowing what to do. At fifteen, he knew that as a man, he shouldn’t cry. He looked at his father, who stood stoically beside the bed for a moment. There were no tears there. Rudy took a gasping breath and turned away.

  Mr. Polski walked over and put his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. He nodded at Petyr. “Petyr, can you take Freda and Rudy home? I’ll stay and take care of things, then meet you there later,” he said. He turned to Rudy. “Go with Petyr and your sister. I’ll be home soon.”

  “No, I want to stay. I’ll help you out if I can,” Rudy said.

  Mr. Polski smiled at his son. “I guess a young man needs to learn about these things. You can stay and help,” he said nodding approvingly at his son. He gave Petyr a nod.