The room had been cleared and Harper and his senior scientist huddled around one of the screens. Takada tapped the glass with his knuckle.
‘I think we’ve got a topological paradox.’ He folded his arms and peered at the blurred area on the screen.
‘A wormhole?’ Harper whispered, and ran his hands up through his thinning hair. ‘Maybe; after all, we knew it was theoretically possible. But one that stays open — that’s not supposed to happen… even on paper.’
‘Well, the visual evidence sure points to something being there that wasn’t there before. Or rather I should say, something not being there, that was before.’
Harper blinked a few times at the oily distortion. ‘And the boy and our diamond fell through it, or were pulled through?’
‘I know, I know, it’s all crazy. But it could have all been a lot worse: if the collision had generated a black hole, even a miniature one, and it failed to evaporate in nanoseconds, it could have given off enough gamma radiation to fry the planet. So we should be thankful for that at least.’
Harper grunted. ‘So, you think it’s safe to go down there?’
Takada shrugged. ‘None of the instruments are registering lethal gamma or X-rays anymore. The anomaly gave off just enough rads to cause the blast doors to activate, but not enough to harm anyone.’
‘Yet.’ Harper raised his eyebrows.
‘And that’s the problem, isn’t it? The non-mass is somehow causing our systems to be drained of power, and refuse their shutdown orders on the collider. We somehow opened a wormhole, and now something is causing it to be wedged open. It’s drawing ever more power, and I don’t now what’ll happen when it reaches a tipping point.’
Harper leaned on his fists and looked hard at the screen, which had now been recalibrated to focus on the small area of blurred disturbance next to the collision point.
‘Give me some options, people.’
Takeda sat forward. ‘The collider is moving at a speed that has surpassed light. That’s pretty cool.’
Harper turned to glare at him, and he swallowed and went on.
‘But the fact is, the particles we have created are still accelerating. Don’t know why, but each rotation in the chamber means more power is drawn, more speed is achieved, and more fragility enters the system. So…’ He shrugged. ‘We need to slow them down. We need a brake.’
Harper’s eyebrows went up.
Takeda nodded as he spoke. ‘We need to refire the laser. Derail or slow those particles down, and remove the paradox’s energy source.’
‘Perfect. Now if only we had a red diamond we could calibrate. Anyone got a year and ten million bucks?’ Harper rubbed his forehead and sighed. ‘Okay, so, we need to do something — at least get in to take a look at it. Before it reaches this unknown tipping point.’ He leaned back. ‘You know, it still may close by itself.’
Takada nodded. ‘That’s right; it may evaporate any second, or…’
‘Or?’
‘Or it could swell and absorb more of the facility, or all of the facility. Or maybe generate a nuclear meltdown, causing a chain reaction that could irradiate the rest of the planet.’ Takada wiped his brow. ‘Or it could do something else we can’t even imagine.’ His voice was rising. ‘We’ve got to get in there.’
‘Okay, that’s enough,’ Harper said. ‘We’re going in — as for what happens then, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.’
Takada sucked in a deep breath, and visibly calmed himself. ‘We’re scientists; we’ll do what we’re supposed to — observe.’
‘Observe,’ Harper repeated, and then thought gloomily, Perhaps observe the end of the world.