CHAPTER 23

The sun beamed through a small crack in the curtains and drew a line across the bedroom. Claudia squinted at the light and rolled over, pulling the covers above her head. But it was too late. She was an early riser and her mind raced with what she and the Professor had planned for that day. Burying her face in her pillow, she tried to return to her dreams. Then she discovered the scent in the covers and remembered last night. It was a masculine scent and the smell of their passion was all over her. She inhaled it. Claudia peeked around the pillow and looked at Todd. Their love making had been exceptional. Her body was invigorated by it. She watched as he slept, his chest rising, the respirations rhythmic and slow. Todd pursed his lips and gave a very slight puff with every breath, barely resembling a snore. She was glad. Other lovers snored, and it had kept her awake, something that had prodded her to sleep alone. But with Todd she found that she slept soundly, a trait that gave her promise for their relationship, and their future.

She kissed her sleeping lover and he mumbled slightly.

Claudia wanted to make sure he remembered.

“Hey,” she said, “don’t forget.”

“Mmmm,” he purred. “Yeah… forget…”

“Skiing, Mr. Instructor,” she said. “You promised to speak with John about getting us some equipment. …Remember?”

He squinted, his eyes barely visible. “John… Yes. Mmmm…I’ll talk to him; go skiing… yes.”

She nodded. “That’s a boy. Just don’t forget.”

He gestured with his head, mumbled something unintelligible and rolled over, pulling the thick comforter over his head.

She slipped on her robe and headed for her room, effervescent as she mentally went over a list of experiments they had scheduled, predicting the probabilities of their outcome.

Claudia glided down the hall and into her room, her mind racing with thoughts about the antimatter containment device and the physical demonstration scheduled to take place in Professor Blackstone’s lab. It was unbelievable when she thought how fast things had moved since she finished her treatise. She jumped in the shower and scrubbed herself clean, her mind still on fire as she dried quickly, picking blue jeans and a white t-shirt to wear. Reaching to put on the jeans, she thought about selecting something nicer, an act of concession to the shirt and tie physicists she had dressed down in her last lecture, but decided not to, winning the debate with herself. Grabbing the knapsack containing her notes, she headed for the dining room. Blackstone was already there, fully dressed in an Oxford shirt and tie, reading a wire bound notebook, stopping to pencil a note as he tipped back a steaming mug of coffee.

Claudia smiled at the waiter, who returned the smile and pulled out the chair opposite her mentor.

“Coffee, please.”

The waiter nodded and headed for a serving table filled with fresh fruits, croissants and several carafes of fresh coffee.

She smiled at the Professor. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Claudia. Sleep well?”

“Very.”

He took another pull on his coffee. “I’m not sure I’m ready for Swiss coffee.”

The butler returned with Claudia’s coffee. She took a sip. “I don’t think it’s so bad.”

“It’s very bitter.”

“Not everybody is addicted to Starbucks, Uncle Rodney.”

He grinned. “So I take it you’re in the right frame of mind; ready for today’s presentation and the follow up discussions?”

“I am. I hope I haven’t made too many enemies in there.”

“Don’t concern yourself with such things,” he said. “These are intelligent men. Everyone recognizes what the trauma of the past few days did to you, not to mention your discovery of the Einstein lineage.” He reached across the table and held her hand. “Not an issue; don’t even think about it.”

She paused. “Alright.”

Ready to move on to the business at hand, she pulled a notepad out of her knapsack and flipped open the pages.

“I made a few notes, based upon yesterday’s experiment and I wanted to go over them with you before I spoke to the rest of the panel.”

He took a look at what she had written and nodded. “Yes, let’s go over this before we start.”

They finished breakfast, and spent the better part of an hour reviewing her notes, just in time for the boardroom meeting to begin.

Claudia stood at a blackboard, centered at the front of the conference table, facing the group of scientists. Her rhythm was back. She noticed that none of the scientists held a grudge about her blowup at the previous presentation. In fact, her audience was mesmerized with her exposition. Chalk in hand, she filled the blackboard with rows of formulae, while Blackstone and the rest of the scientists watched in awe, following her movement across the room.

“As you can see, what I have concluded leads me to yet another thought.” She tapped the blackboard as she spoke. “The reactions, here, here and here - I have a concern.” Glancing from one man to the next, she put down the chalk and shook her head.

“…I strongly suggest that we reduce the size of this containment device. We need to slow this experiment down. The ‘trap’ as you call it, may be too large for what we are trying to accomplish. It cannot –”

Professor Thomas stood. “But Claudia, how can you say that? Twice before, the anti-gravity effect, the same effect we are looking for today has worked without a problem. You witnessed it lift two tons of equipment off the laboratory floor. And there has been no adverse reaction.”

“It’s still too dangerous,” she said.

“But we are almost there,” said Professor Thomas.

“Almost where?” she said. “To annihilation?”

Several of the scientists chuckled and Professor Thomas returned to his seat.

Claudia was bothered by their cavalier attitude about something that she viewed as extremely dangerous.

“This is not funny.”

Professor Blackstone stood. “No one is making light of what you say, Claudia. We have done immeasurable calculations, testing the stability of what we are doing. You and I discussed this over coffee this morning. You agreed with our assumptions.”

Claudia was adamant. “Yes, I did. But after further thought, I am certain it is too soon.”

Professor Means joined the discussion. “I do not disagree with your logic. Like you, I was very reluctant when I began to work with your treatise.” He bowed his head deferentially. “Nothing short of brilliant, I might add.”

Professor Means’ comment diffused her anxiety, somewhat.

“Thank you,” she said.

“And what you suggest,” said Means, “I have worried about from the very beginning. Antimatter is nothing to fool with.”

“Agreed,” said Claudia.

He pleaded. “But will you at least consider the proof of our calculations?” He pointed at another blackboard on the side, filled with formulae. “They all work.”

“And know that it was at Professor Means’ insistence,” said Professor Whitehead, “that we have moved the experiment to a remote area, outside the laboratory building, to a small facility in the nearby woods.”

“We will be watching it from the underground lab, three levels down,” said Professor Thomas.

“It is still too great a risk,” she said.

“What we will be doing,” said Blackstone, “involves a grouping of only a handful of atoms, nothing larger. What you observed in the laboratory was a far greater mass.”

“But that was only a containment device,” said Claudia. “Here we are working on energy output. There is a great deal of difference with what we are doing.”

“Correct,” said Professor Means. “But the output we seek is minimal. Please, trust us with this.”

Pausing to glance across the room, taking in the walls of scribbled scientific formulae around them, Claudia pondered their dilemma. Impressed by the work that this group of respected scientists had done, Claudia was still reluctant to proceed. She had read their proposal several times over and yes, it all made logical sense. The theorem proofs – on paper - worked as the group of scientists had projected they would.

But it was pure instinct that screamed for her to stop, to slow down the process. It was her instinct that told her the progression of events was moving too quickly. But she considered her actions the first time she spoke to the group and felt guilty, notwithstanding Professor Blackstone’s comments that no one had cared about her outbursts.

Claudia shook her head, slowly.

“Alright,” she said, her voice quiet, an octave lower than before.

“Do what you will. Time will tell if we are wrong… If we are, God help us all.”