Dinnie hurried down the hall and up a flight to the lab where Sarah Andrews was working. I wish Feldman would let them work together. Keeping them apart is only a hindrance. Damn elitist paranoia.
The hallway guard nodded as Dinnie passed him. Working alone meant that Sarah did not need a guard inside the lab at all times, but Feldman was still keeping a constant eye on her.
Sarah glanced up from her Pad when Dinnie entered her lab, but made no other effort to acknowledge her presence. On the monitor, a 3D image of a probe was taking shape. Dinnie studied it, then moved her glance to Sarah, who sat with a jaw clenched tight on a pale face. Her eyes, the same green as in the picture of Casey Wilson, reflected a weary sadness. Sarah Andrews was not a happy prisoner.
Dinnie tried to be friendly. “I haven’t had a chance to meet you yet, Miss Andrews. I’m Dinnie Warner, in Neutrino Tracking. I want to make sure you have everything you need. Is there any equipment or assistance I can get you?”
Sarah turned back to her keyboard. “I could use a physicist,” she said. “I told Feldman I was just the engineer. Sam is the one who understands the phase change.”
Dinnie sighed. “Yes, I know. But Mr. Feldman knows far better than I what is needed for this project. I can assure you that Dr. Altair is working on the problem and I’ll see to it you get any data you need.”
Sarah’s fingers stilled on the keyboard at that information, but she started typing again without turning around. “Please make sure he knows that we need the neutrinos to stay in this universe, and within this system. It’s delicate work, and we’ll need to allow for the counter-reaction. Also, Mr. Feldman needs to understand that I must know the mass of whatever he is transporting. He didn’t seem prepared to give me that information.”
Dinnie moved closer, watching as the image rotated. It wasn’t a probe, she realized. It was a container, meant to hold something. Her brows wrinkled. “Inside the system? Are you sure about that?”
Sarah shrugged, and tapped a key, bringing up Feldman’s instructions. “These are the coordinates he gave me for the destination. Something called NISS, just a couple hundred thousand kilometers from Earth. In this universe.”
Dinnie stared at the numbers, then cleared her throat. “NISS,” she said, but had to clear her throat again. “The space station. Mr. Feldman probably just wants to do a test run.”
Sarah shrugged again, tapping keys to bring her half-designed container back to the screen. Dinnie watched for another minute, then turned to the door.
~~~
Because a guard stayed in the laboratory with them, Andy didn’t feel safe enough to ask Sam Altair any of the fifty or so questions whirling around his brain. Sam seemed intimidated too. Their conversation was limited to necessary information, given in stilted, uncomfortable tones. But when Sam described the method for isolating and altering neutrinos, Andy forgot his fear.
“How do you know this?” he asked. “I’ve searched the data extensively and never found anything about it.” He scrubbed the top of his head in frustration, pushing the hair in all directions. “Surely my advisor would know about it, yet why would he let me waste my time on a duplicative effort?”
Sam shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m certain most of this was known in the early part of the century. There should have been papers written. What happened to them?”
“A great deal of information was lost during the famines and wars,” Andy said. “I suppose that’s what happened.” He longed to confront Sam Altair with a question about the neutrino bridge. About the other universe, and his conviction that Sam came from that universe. But he didn’t want the guard to hear that conversation.
Sam didn’t seem interested in pursuing it, either. He tapped the STM. “You do know how to manipulate atoms, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Good. That’s the first step. You can get started on building a framework for the bridge. We’re building wormholes, but we must control the shape in order to control the destination. I’ve found it best to model it on a regular bowstring style. While you’re doing that, I’ll work on finding us some neutrinos.”
Bowstring? Like a physical bridge? What the hell? But Andy set up his field within the microscope and started shifting atoms around, nudging them into the shape he wanted. After a few minutes though, he found himself staring at the atoms, the delicate sensor lying still in his hand. Did he dare? He resisted an urge to see if the guard was watching him. Act normal. It would be bad for him if he was caught. But it was worth the risk.
He touched his stylus to the slide. The nearest atom quivered. Jaw tight, Andy settled onto his stool and began rearranging atoms into a different shape.
After twenty minutes, he stood, blinked several times, and looked again into his viewer. Words, the start of a conversation, he hoped, shimmered up at him from the slide. Come over ER Bridge? Prisoner?
He straightened, twisting his neck to loosen the tight muscles. Sam was still at the other table, making miniscule adjustments to the isolation unit.
Andy cleared his throat. “Sam, could you take a look at this? I need another pair of eyes, here.”
“Sure thing.” Sam pushed back from the table, rubbing his eyes before coming over to Andy’s table. Andy stepped aside, keeping his expression nonchalant, as Sam peered into the scope.
Sam did not react, but Andy sensed a deep stillness grip his co-worker. Sam straightened and met Andy’s eyes. “Yes,” he said. A thrill went through Andy at the simple word. Sam continued, “You’re on the right track.”
Andy tapped the table. “Good to know. Let me tweak it a bit more, and see what the next step is.”
Sam glanced around the room, pausing on the bored guard before his gaze came back to Andy. He nodded and went back to his table. Andy bent over the microscope.
An hour later, they had the framework of a plan. Andy took a deep breath, trying to still his shaking hands. He couldn’t believe he was going to do something so risky. But his choices were all risky from the moment he first found out about Moira. Life was not going to follow the careful plan he’d set for himself.