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  Wasserman responded with his own play. “Let’s hope so. Things are getting tight around here, and we’ll need to find cost savings in every process. You said on the phone you could give us more than just nickels and dimes.”

  Davis was impressed with the I’m-just-a-poor-man counterplay, but of course, it was all an act. With electricity rates fixed by friendly Texas commissioners and with oil, gas and coal prices still depressed, ElecTrek’s financial position was rosy for the foreseeable future. Still, a good dealmaker doesn’t embarrass his client with facts. If Wasserman said things were tight, they were tight. The meeting would require the full pitch, and Davis was prepared.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m going to save you a billion dollars, maybe more… right now, right here in this meeting.”

  He waited a few seconds for the words to sink in and then pointed to the pictures on the wall. “As a side benefit, by next week, I’ll hand over a new crowd-pleasing photograph you can hang on this wall that will change your company’s image forever.”

  Their skeptical looks were standard and expected. Davis had no PowerPoint slides and no glossy brochures to hand out; those were bits and pieces that amateurs used. Much better to go straight for gold. He opened his briefcase, withdrew a small white plastic pipe and set it on the table. Eyes around the room squinted.

  The pipe was open at one end and closed on the other by a rounded top, painted blue and orange. It looked like a short piece of irrigation pipe commonly found at any home improvement store.

  “I give you the Garrity Cap,” Davis said with a flourish of his hand.

  Wasserman picked up the plastic tube and held it close to his face, turning it in his hand. The others looked on with interest. It was the critical turning point of the meeting, where he’d either walk out with a contract or be thrown out as a con man.

  Davis continued, cranking his pitch a notch higher. “This simple device—backed up by Garrity nanotechnology—will literally save the world. I kid you not. Once its larger cousin is installed at your power plants, operating costs will plummet, and profits will soar.”

  Wasserman handed the plastic pipe to Teri Barker, who peered inside, looking for working parts. “You said on the phone you had a carbon-capture device. This is PVC pipe.”

  “Funny, isn’t it?” Davis asked. “That sometimes the most innovative technology comes in such a simple package.” He pointed to the pipe. “With the Garrity Cap installed on each of your stacks, you can turn off your billion-dollar carbon-capture system; you won’t need it. And forget about building any more of these money-sucking showpieces. Let’s be real. A 6 percent reduction isn’t a realistic carbon-capture program—it’s just a very expensive public relations campaign. Are we in agreement on that?”

  Their shrugs gave him the answer he had expected. Carbon capture at any coal-fired power plant had never made it past the demonstration phase, even with heavy government subsidies. Power plants across the US, even those that had converted to natural gas, continued to discharge large quantities of carbon dioxide daily.

  Davis knew the industry well, including how their bottom line was calculated. “With the Garrity Cap on every stack, you’ll capture exactly 100 percent of the carbon and everything else you currently send into the air. By the way, you can turn off your sulfur dioxide scrubbers. You won’t need them either. Go ahead and burn local Texas coal instead of importing that expensive stuff from Wyoming. Hell, burn garbage, burn old tires, burn whatever you like—it won’t matter in the slightest. Your emissions will still be precisely zero.”

  He pointed to Jake Schroeder. “By next week, you’ll be running the greenest electric power facility on the planet. Your EPA permit? Tear it up. Global warming? Climate change? Gone. Mr. Schroeder, you’re going to be a hero.”

  Wasserman was shaking his head, but in a good way, more puzzled than negative. “Nice pitch. But empty claims aren’t worth much. Tell me again how all this magic is supposed to work?”

  Davis reached out, and Teri handed him the plastic pipe. “I lied,” he said. “What I hold in my hand is a bit more than just your ordinary PVC pipe.” He held it out for their inspection, pointing the open side toward them and then turning it over to show the closed top. “This closed end is not closed at all.” He pulled a pen from his pocket and pushed it inside the tube. He tapped the pen on the cap’s top like a magician would knock inside a trick box. “We hear the pen tapping. Our eyes see this as a sealed end… but it’s not. This tube twists into another dimension, a place we can’t see, a place not even in this world.”

  Davis’s grin broadened to a smile. “Yes, we’re using dimensional technology, the same technology you’ve heard on the news when they told us about all this crazy business with aliens.”

  Schroeder contorted one side of his face. “That pipe is an alien device?”

  Davis shook his head. “Nope. Not alien. Built right here in America. So is the dimensional technology. But instead of using this technology to find aliens, we’re taking the same idea to save money… and save the planet.”

  Davis held the pipe in one hand, his other hand a few inches away. “This pipe is really twice as long as it looks. We can’t see the rest of it because it makes a right-angled turn into a fourth dimension. My company created both the pipe and the space that it’s plugged into.” He waved his arms in the air. “That new space is right here, right in this room.”

  “We’ve all heard the news stories,” Schroeder said. “Talking to cyborgs a million miles away? Pretty fantastic stuff, and I’m not sure I believe it all. But you’re saying the technology is real? How do we know this isn’t just a PVC pipe you bought at the hardware store?”

  Schroeder was turning out to be a good straight man. Davis pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket. “Mind if I light up?” he asked with a smile. Of course, the answer was predetermined.

  “Sorry, Davis, we’re a no-smoking workplace,” Wasserman said. “Maybe you could just answer Jake’s question.”

  Davis pulled out a lighter. “I intend to. With visual proof, if you’ll allow a one-time exception to your smoking policy.” Davis lifted his eyebrows and waited for the next response.

  “You’re going to show us how this works, but you need a lit cigarette?”

  “Yes, I do. It’s quite an intriguing demonstration.”

  “Okay, whatever,” Wasserman answered. “Do what you need to do.”

  Davis nodded, lit the cigarette and took a long drag. He blew smoke into the air, away from where the others sat. “My apologies for the smoke, but you did want proof.”

  Wasserman pulled his chair closer and the others leaned forward with elbows on the table. “Okay, same draw, same amount of smoke.” He took another long drag on the cigarette, its tip burning bright red. He picked up the plastic tube and held its opening to his lips.

  His audience drew in closer still. He puckered his lips and gently blew. The sound of his exhale was the same as before, but nothing came out of the pipe, not even traces of smoke around its edges.

  Schroeder reached out with an incredulous look on his face. “Wait a second, that’s got to be a trick. You didn’t really take a draw the second time.” He took the cap from Davis’s hand and examined it once more.

  Davis held out the cigarette. “Try it yourself.”

  Schroeder looked at him and then Wasserman. He took the cigarette, sucked on it and immediately expelled the smoke in a fit of coughing. “Okay, the smoke is real,” he said when he’d regained his composure.

  Schroeder took a second draw and blew directly into the short pipe, his lips not quite touching. Smoke came out of his puckered lips, but it quickly disappeared into the pipe and didn’t come out.

  Schroeder held the pipe up to the light and peered inside. “There’s got to be something absorptive in there.”

  Davis tilted back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. “Do you see anything except the inside of an empty plastic pipe?”

  “No,” S
chroeder admitted. “I don’t. What the hell are you doing here?” He tapped on the very solid-looking rounded cap at the closed end. “Where’d the smoke go?”

  Davis laughed. “Gone. No longer in our plane of existence, my friend. Permanently eliminated, just like your power plant emissions will be.”

  Schroeder looked at the pipe in one hand and back to the cigarette in the other. He started laughing. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  The ElecTrek lawyers would be next, waving a memorandum of understanding and a joint nondisclosure agreement. The documents would clear the way for a full-scale demonstration at their Bastrop plant, which would then lead to a signed contract, renewed annually… and, of course, many millions of dollars flowing into Davis’s bank account.

  The amazing thing about it all was this deal was just one power company in one state. Many more would follow, and Davis was quite sure he would soon become very rich.

  3

  Briefing

  Daniel Rice sat in the hot seat in a stuffy committee room deep in the bowels of the US Capitol building. A row of stern-faced representatives faced him. Daniel had been here before. It wasn’t testimony. He wasn’t under oath; there were no cameras and only one microphone. A congressional briefing, conducted behind closed doors to maximize candor. He enjoyed this newest part of his job about as much as a visit to the dentist.

  The weathered man at the center of the dais was the chairman of the House Committee on Science, Space and Technology. He had asked questions that were vaguely science-oriented, but the follow-on conversation made it abundantly clear that his scientific knowledge was modest. Still, he was an improvement on the previous committee chairman. The years of prominent politicians openly hostile to science were thankfully over.

  “Dr. Rice, let’s shift the conversation to Core,” the chairman croaked.

  Core was, of course, the extraterrestrial cybernetic organism occupying an alien megastructure in four-dimensional space near the star VY Canis Majoris. Everyone on Earth knew that much. Core self-described as part biology, part quantum computer, and served as a central communications hub to a collection of alien civilizations. A gatekeeper.

  Over the past eight months, Core had revealed bits and pieces of the alien civilizations that it represented: a web of interconnected planets previously unknown and invisible to curious human eyes spread across several thousand light-years of space in one corner of the Milky Way galaxy. Each planet connected to the central hub through the newly discovered technology that compressed space.

  The chairman continued. “You and others have met with this entity Core eight times now. Beyond the revelation of this new boson it doesn’t appear that we’ve gathered much in the way of new science. Would you agree?”

  The hyperbolic paraboloid boson was the newest addition to the Standard Model of physics, responsible for the shape of space itself. Once Core had revealed the fingerprint of the new particle, ecstatic physicists around the world had quickly confirmed its existence and spun off multiple studies to examine its properties.

  “I’m not sure I would agree, Mr. Chairman. While it may be true that Core reveals only what it wants us to know—and by the way, I completely agree that this perceived caginess can be frustrating to scientists—”

  “Not to mention the military,” the chairman added.

  “Yes, our military and security organizations are fully justified in their cautious approach toward Core. But that said, I would argue that Core has at least hinted at additional science that will be disclosed at future dates. For example, it has alluded to an entirely new branch of physics that describes the quantum nature of time. We are only in the beginning stages of this exploration but the yin-yang device that was left in the Russian Soyuz capsule is a prime example of technology that uses this new science.”

  The chairman looked up from a paper on his desk. “I understand this device was turned over to the Russians along with their capsule.”

  Daniel shrugged. “Yes sir, an obligation of the international space treaty. But we had a good look at it before it was passed along to the Russians. I believe the device itself is not as important as the science behind it.”

  “Which Core continues to withhold.”

  “Technically true.” Daniel seemed to be constantly defending Core though he felt the frustration as much as anyone. Too soon, Core often said. You will learn. Daniel had become the de facto representative, the scientist who had made first contact with an alien intelligence and often the central figure in subsequent conversations.

  Each session was much like the first, a radio link via compressed space that allowed for voice and data transmission. A live video link showed the exterior of Core’s structure—the hand grenade, they had joked. Although its surface never changed, a mesmerizing parade of alien devices orbited, each apparently functioning as a communication link back to a home planet. A joint effort among Earth’s space agencies was working to build a similar communications relay that would eventually replace the flimsy duct-tape-and-baling-wire electronics package cobbled together at Fermilab.

  “I believe some topics are left for future conversations,” Daniel continued. “The current focus is on the newly announced mission to the Dancer’s planet, Ixtlub, and on the portal technology that will take us there. In this area, Core has demonstrated a level of openness that has elevated the fledgling science of exobiology to a major branch of study. We have received a detailed map of the self-replicating molecule that powers all life on their planet, similar to our DNA. Needless to say, biologists are having a field day comparing the two molecules. This information will certainly be of use when we make physical contact with the species of this planet and dramatically advances our understanding of what it means to be alive.”

  Several members of the committee nodded their heads. Biology was one of the sciences that seemed to be poised for explosive growth and the politicians were eager to capitalize on funding for studies in their home states.

  “We’ve also received considerable information on the two intelligent species who inhabit the planet. I’ve read some of the documentation myself and I envy those who will be selected for the mission. Assuming we get a video feed, it’s going to be quite the show.”

  One of the minority party members perked up at this comment. “Dr. Rice, you’ve been on television and at other public appearances so I’m sure you’re aware than many people don’t trust these aliens and have grave concerns about the announced mission. What assurances do we have that it will be a friendly meeting and what safeguards are we establishing in case it is not?”

  It was an age-old question, and eight months without any aggression hadn’t dimmed raging fears in the slightest. That the aliens hadn’t “shown themselves” was a common rallying cry among critics even though Daniel had pointed out that the viral video of the beautiful and delicate creatures they’d called the Dancers had more than five billion views on social media platforms.

  “I am aware of public concerns,” Daniel answered. He could have pointed the congressman to one of several children’s science programs in which Daniel had appeared, including a fun Sesame Street bit designed to provide comfort to preschoolers about alien life. He decided against it.

  “As you know, Congressman, NASA has joined with ESA to plan the mission in tight alliance with our national security agencies. I’m confident they will produce a plan that will both be diplomatic and ensure global security. In addition, Core revealed in our last session that it will provide an emissary to Earth, an android in humanoid form who will prepare us for our first encounter with another civilization and act as our guide on the mission. I believe this is a positive indicator that demonstrates Core is primarily focused on diplomacy, not security.

  And lastly, the new transfer portal that is under construction at Kennedy Space Center will give us physical access to any other location in the galaxy with a corresponding portal. It’s important to note that this technology, like any network protocol, requires a handshake f
rom both sides. That is, our portal is open only when we permit it to be open and the same is true for the destination portal.”

  The congressman grunted. “We may have built this portal, but the design was alien. Who’s to say what it will do when they turn it on?”

  It was true that none of the engineers involved in the portal assembly understood exactly how it would work. Most expected it would be one of the first actions taken by the android, who was due to arrive on Earth within days.

  4

  Katanauts

  Marie Kendrick could almost sense the ghosts of the past walking the halls of this historic place. The Neil Armstrong Operations and Checkout Building at Kennedy Space Center in Florida went all the way back to the 1960s Mercury program. Interior spaces had been upgraded over the years to support the changing needs of each spaceflight era, but the exterior of the building was still vintage 1960s. She could easily imagine Ford Falcons and Chevrolet Impalas, tail fins and all, scattered across the parking lot.

  She stood alone at the center of the O&C clean room, as they called it, a cavernous space long enough to hold two Airbus 380s end to end. The Apollo Lunar Excursion Module had been assembled here in the 1960s, as well as most of the sections of the International Space Station in the 1990s. The overhead cranes used for these historic projects still hung from the high ceiling, but now idle.

  The O&C clean room was no longer used to assemble spacecraft and no longer quite as clean. It had been repurposed as a gateway to other worlds. Alien worlds.

  Marie brushed back a strand of hair and stared up at the large banner that spanned one wall, imprinted with NASA and ESA logos and the words Mission to the Stars. She marveled at the circumstances that had brought her here. It had been a roller coaster of emotions over the past several weeks.