"On Deception Watch'

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EXCERPT  from the novel...

   “Fine. To begin with, what exactly are you making here?”

   Cranshaw thought for a moment. “History, Mr. Marshall. History.” He

closed his eyes, and his head rolled back slightly, giving the impression he was 

slipping into a meditative state. This was an obsessed man, Marshall thought.

Obsessed people made Marshall nervous. He waited.

   Cranshaw continued slowly, “Mr. Marshall, do you know what will be the most

important quest for mankind in this century? It will not be the search for alien life

or the grand unification theory of quantum mechanics and relativity nor will it be

the endless search for the cure for cancer. No, Mr. Marshall, it will be for energy.

Such a small word"energy. It is totally inadequate to its importance.

   “Without dependable energy civilization as we know it would cease. As with

our own deaths, Mr. Marshall, we cannot fully contemplate the consequences

of a worldwide energy deficit. Yet that is what we are rapidly approaching. We

consume energy in huge amounts in our modern world. And each emerging

nation adds significantly to the energy drain.

   “It cannot go on indefinitely, Mr. Marshall, since fossil fuels are our primary

source of energy and they are rapidly being depleted. Nuclear fission reactors

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provide only partial relief and uranium is a far from unlimited and inexpensive

fuel.

   “Energy depletion is only a matter of time. And we can calculate that time

now and it is nearer than we admit publicly, Mr. Marshall.” He stopped, closed

his eyes again, and this time began to speak while apparently in communion

with a higher presence than James Marshall.

   “It is a problem of historic proportions. And we are making history here.

Now.” He leaned forward in his chair, hands now on the desktop, looking at

Marshall.

   “You asked me what we make here. We make solutions. We have solved the

problem of unlimited energy, Mr. Marshall.”

Marshall was not impressed with the histrionic presentation or with the

claim.

   “Excuse me, Dr. Cranshaw, but this claim has been made before. But

perpetual motion machines have gone out of style this century.”

   “No, not a perpetual motion machine. That is for the application of energy.

I am talking about the creation of unlimited energy, the answer to this century’s

dream of power from water, of controlled nuclear fusion. That is what we make

here, Mr. Marshall, to answer your question directly. We make fusion happen

and we get neutrons and with neutrons we make methane from the air and from

the methane we strip off the hydrogen atoms to use as fuel in a fuel cell, and

the fuel cell makes electricity, and the electricity is energy.

   “Think of it, Mr. Marshall, we use the abundant neutrons produced by

the fusion reaction and the carbon dioxide free to us in the air and we make

methane. Yes but synthetic methane. We actually will be reducing the amount

of carbon dioxide in the air as we make methane. But even synthetic methane

is still methane"a kind of ‘nonfossil’ fossil fuel. But only if you burn it.

   We don’t burn the methane. We use it as a source of hydrogen atoms. We

use genetically engineered cyanobacteria and our proprietary cocktail of

enzymes to strip the hydrogen, which we collect from the methane, leaving a

carbon"and nitrogen-rich slurry that can be used as a fertilizer. A fertilizer. Do

you see? Reduced carbon dioxide, low-cost, low-energy hydrogen production,

high-efficiency fuel-cell-generated electricity, and a fertilizer by-product, not

poisonous chemical waste. Is it not amazing! We don’t contribute to greenhouse

gases and we get more energy more safely with an energy economy based on

hydrogen. And as you know, the only product from a hydrogen fuel cell is water.

We know how to do it and we have done it.”

   Marshall remained silent, inhibited by Cranshaw’s vehemence. He was not

sure if he was physically safe or whether Cranshaw was mad but harmless.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” Cranshaw said, reading his skepticism on

Marshall’s face.

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   Grateful for the opening, Marshall asked, “Well, as a reporter, I’m sure you

can appreciate that there is a big difference between claiming and doing. But

let me ask you one question before we get too far. Why you? If you don’t mind

my saying so, a lot smarter people with a lot of government money have been

working on fusion all over the world and haven’t even come close. It’s a little

hard to accept what you are claiming.”

   “We shall see. I anticipated this question, of course. Do you know why these

other researchers have not succeeded while I have? They have the wrong goal.

Their goal is to pursue truth to uncover the mysteries of nature. Mine is more

mundane. It is to make money. My goal was to find a process that will work.

Not the best or most elegant process, but one that will suffice. And if I succeed

I do not lose my reason for being, I begin selling my product. It is not the end

for me and my life-work, as it would be for the national labs working this same

problem. It is the beginning.

   “And you are wrong about a very important point, Mr. Marshall. There are

no smarter people working on this project than those working here for me. You

find this hard to believe so I will explain. The vast institutional fusion effort

supported by major governmental funding"and I mean hundreds of millions

of dollars"is directed toward magnetic confinement. We are using laser

implosion. Magnetic confinement means nothing to us. We do not compete for

these brains. Our problems were optics, laser physics, stable implosion models,

nuclear chemistry. Completely different fields, Mr. Marshall, from those of the

establishment. We don’t compete for the same people.”

   “But both our government and the Russians are funding laser fusion

research,” Marshall said.

   “Yes, but they are fallback positions not taken seriously, used to fund

graduate students or out-of-fashion eccentrics at the Lawrence Livermore

Labs, with no serious project planning. Frankly, these projects cannot compete

with what I pay for the best talent in the world. Nor are they as well planned. I

have three Nobel Prize laureates working here, Mr. Marshall. All on two-year

sabbaticals from their universities or laboratories. They could not turn down my

offers. The science and the money were too compelling. And of course, their

universities granted them their sabbaticals as they would grant them anything

they asked. Such is the power of academic stardom.

   “Also, as you may know, this is not my only company. AJC Fusion is a

wholly owned subsidiary of Nova Industries. I own that company as well. Do

you know what Nova Industries specializes in? We make the finest aspherical

lenses in the world. These are essential in the laser optical path techniques

that we have developed. Let me repeat, since you ask, ‘Why me?’ Because

we make the best aspherical lenses in the world. Other laboratories, even with

their inferior efforts, struggle with multiple lasers. We break our single laser

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pulse into carefully controlled multiple segments that meet simultaneously,

that recombine all at the same time on the implosion target. Do you see? We

only use one laser. We have no synchronization handicap. We don’t have to get

multiple lasers to act as one. We use only one laser. We can do this and no one

else, no one else can!”

   “Let me get this straight. What exactly do you claim to have done and can

you show me anything to verify your claims?” Marshall asked.

   “Now you are beginning to see. And ask the right questions. What we have

done is achieve ignition of a deuterium-tritium target pellet. Our target team

completed development of the pellet seven months ago. Using a high energy

laser burst, split by our optical path design, using our lenses to impinge the laser

energy on the target capsule equally from all sides, we have succeeded in fusing

the target. Nuclear fusion ignition, Mr. Marshall, not in a magnet, but in a little

glass bead. We have verified this by examining the neutron radiation emitted

from the target. The product of nuclear fusion is telltale neutrons, you see. The

neutrons are our proof. This is well-known physics, as I am sure you are aware.

And we can achieve this fusion ignition routinely, as it were. Repeatability, Mr.

Marshall, is what brings credibility. This alone is an historic achievement. We

are now rising up the economic curve, approaching breakeven. You know what

I mean by breakeven, of course?”

   “When you get as much energy out as you put in?” Marshall ventured.

“Close, but not quite. We are a business and think in business terms. For

us, breakeven is when the cost to us of the energy used equals the price we can

charge for the energy produced. The greater the compression of our targets,

the more neutrons we produce, and the more energy we can make. Simply put,

we are looking for the biggest bang for the buck. We are laser-limited at the

moment, but that problem is being addressed as we speak.

   “You ask what exactly have we done. Mr. Marshall, laser fusion is only one

aspect of our revolution. You realize that all large power stations, even nuclear

stations, are just glorified water boilers that make steam that drive turbines

that drive electric generators. We use nineteenth-century technology to make

electricity using steam, Mr. Marshall. Nuclear energy to boil water to make

steam. Steam, Mr. Marshall. It is barbaric!

   “The efficiency of conversion of a steam-driven turbine system is anywhere

from 5 to 50 percent. Fuel cells operate at virtually 100 percent efficiency

because they generate no heat. But fuel cells need a source of cheap fuel.

Remember, we are after the biggest bang for the buck, Mr. Marshall. We do

not use our neutrons to generate heat to make steam. We use them to alter the

nuclear structure of atoms. We do nuclear chemistry with them, Mr. Marshall.

We make economical synthetic methane from our neutrons, using hydrogen

from water and carbon from air. And from this methane, we get hydrogen with

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which we make electricity, using fuel cells. Creating methane from neutrons

and carbon dioxide, Mr. Marshall. It has never been done before. Never even

thought of.

  “We are founding not just a company here, Mr. Marshall. We are founding

a revolution, a new era. Life will never be the same. Energy, boundless, endless

energy. Compared to what we have done, the industrial revolution will look

like child’s play. This is the destiny of humanity. Unlimited energy that does

not destroy the planet.

   “We will stop the wasteful and ignorant burning of fossil chemicals and

substitute a new era based on a commercially practical hydrogen economy. That

is what we have done, what we have actually done.”

   Cranshaw sank back in his chair, slowly folding his hands across his belly,

smiling, and watching Marshall struggle to absorb all he had just been told.

Finally, Marshall put down his pad and looked intently at Cranshaw,

trying to read behind his intense, round face. “But why have there been no

announcements? If what you are saying is true, the whole world would be at

your feet.”

   “But Mr. Marshall, that is why you are here.”

   “I don’t understand. You don’t make an announcement like this through a

feature writer for the Sunday edition of the Washington Courier, even a good

one"a great one"like me. This is front-page New York Times stuff, if it’s

true.”

   At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Following Cranshaw’s

“Come in,” Sylvia Carlyle entered. Cranshaw’s secretary followed just behind

her with a tray of coffee, tea, and cups and saucers for three. “Time for a break,

gentlemen,” she said indicating to the secretary to place the tray on the coffee

table by the couch. Cranshaw left his desk and sat on the couch. Marshall turned

his chair to face Cranshaw. Sylvia Carlyle sat in a chair near Cranshaw.

Marshall looked quizzically at Cranshaw when he realized that she was

not leaving.

   “Ms. Carlyle is my executive administrator. As such, she knows everything,

Mr. Marshall. Ms. Carlyle is involved with everything of consequence here. You

are a matter of consequence for us.”

   Marshall tipped his head in acknowledgment of Cranshaw’s compliment

and then turned to Sylvia Carlyle.

   “Well, your boss has been telling me quite a story. But I’m still not sure why

I’m here. Why me?” he asked, looking at her over his coffee cup.

   “That’s simple, James. You don’t mind if I call you James? Good. Please call

me Sylvia. It will be your job to see to it that we aren’t murdered. All of us.”

   Her bland presentation of his assignment, a smile still lingering on her face,

raised the hairs on the back of Marshall’s neck. He suddenly realized that he

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wasn’t doing an interview. He was being recruited"recruited into something

that Dick Scully knew about and approved.

   “That’s not my line of work, Ms. Carlyle"Sylvia. I’m just a reporter. I don’t

do security. I’m not beefy enough,” he added smiling.

   Sylvia Carlyle smiled back and said, “We’ll see.”

   Cranshaw added, “Perhaps you will think we are being melodramatic, Mr.

Marshall. I assure you, we are not. But you will judge that for yourself before

the day is out.

   “Notwithstanding, if you agree, you will be an essential element of our

announcements. We have experienced an internal problem that necessitates our

‘breaking the story,’ as you journalists say, sooner than we planned. We want it

presented with credibility. A journalist of your technical stature will protect us

from the strategy of ridicule by those who will certainly become our enemies.

Once a subject of ridicule we would easily be destroyed behind the scenes, out

of the public view, with no one questioning our disappearance.”

   Holding a pastry in midflight to his mouth, Cranshaw continued, “We are

being a bit unfair to you, hitting you with everything at once. But you see, time

has become of the essence and we must get our act in gear, as it were. Sylvia,

perhaps this is a good time to show Mr. Marshall our facilities. He is probably

tired of listening to me by now.”

   “Certainly, Dr. Cranshaw.” Then turning to Marshall, she said, “Shall we

begin now?”

   Marshall welcomed the chance to think about what he had been told so far.

It just didn’t ring true. Technical achievements like these just didn’t happen in

the dark without some word leaking out.

   Leaving Cranshaw’s office, Sylvia led Marshall down the hall to the elevator

bank. Entering the car, Marshall noted that it indicated two levels, the one they

were on and another marked “D.” It still did not compute.

   “I’m told there are about eighty people working here, but I don’t see how. They

can’t all fit in these two floors,” he said, as the elevator made its slow descent.

   “Of course, you are correct. And you’re wrong. There are about seventy-eight

people all together working here, but there are not two floors. There are five,

including an underground garage. Intentionally this is not easy to determine from

the outside. For security reasons, for each floor"except the first, which is the

lowest security level, and the last, which is the highest"there are two elevators.

Each elevator goes only one floor, either up and down one or down and up one.

There is a security check at each level. It is impossible to go directly from the

fifth level to the surface level in one elevator. We are, after all, dealing with

atomic research for profit. Our own precautions against industrial espionage

impose far greater precautions than what the federal government requires for

safety purposes.”

...continued