The Einstein Equation

19 Pandora Unlocks

At Wrichtishousis, things had changed, but not necessarily for the better. Although Purdue was less moody and kinder to his staff, another scourge had craned its neck. The presence of a nuisance in a pair of flats.

“Where is David?” Nurse Hurst asked abruptly when Charles opened the door.

Purdue’s butler was the epitome of composure, and even he had to bite his lip.

“He is in the laboratory, madam, but he is not expecting you,” he answered.

“He will be thrilled to see me,” she said coldly. “If he has reservations about me, let him tell me himself.”

Charles, nonetheless, followed the arrogant nurse down to Purdue’s computer room. The door of the room was ajar, which meant that Purdue was busy, but not off-limits. From wall to wall, black and chrome servers towered, flashing lights blinking like little heartbeats in their polished chests of Perspex and plastic.

“Sir, Nurse Hurst has showed up unannounced. She insists that you wish to see her?” Charles delivered his subdued hostility at an elevated volume.

“Thank you, Charles,” his employer cried over the loud hum of the machines. Purdue was sitting in the far corner of the room, wearing earphones to distract from the noise of the room. He was seated behind a vast desk. Upon it sat four laptops, linked up and wired into another large box. Purdue’s white crown of thick wavy hair perked up from behind the lids of the computers. It was Saturday, and Jane was not there. Much like Lillian and Charles, even Jane had become a little annoyed by the nurse’s constant presence.

The three staff members were of the mind that she was more than Purdue’s caregiver, although they did not know about her interest in science. It looked much more like an interest in a wealthy husband to take her out of widowhood, so that she did not have to clean up people’s waste and deal with death all day. Of course, being the professionals they were, they never accused her in front of Purdue.

“How are you doing, David?” Nurse Hurst asked.

“Quite well, Lilith, thank you,” he smiled. “Come and see.”

She skipped over to his side of the desk and found what he had been using his time for lately. On each screen, the nurse noticed a plethora of number sequences she recognized.

“An equation? But why does it keep changing? What is it for?” she inquired, leaning deliberately close to the billionaire to allow him her scent. Purdue was preoccupied with his programming, but he never neglected a woman’s beguiling.

“I am not quite sure yet, not until this program tells me,” he boasted.

“That is a quite obscure explanation. Do you at least know what it involves?” she pried, trying to make sense of the morphing sequences on the screens.

“This is reputed to have been written by Albert Einstein, somewhere during the First World War, when he was living in Germany, you see,” Purdue elucidated happily. “It was thought to have been destroyed, and well,” he sighed, “since, had become somewhat of a myth in scientific circles.”

“Oh, and you uncovered it,” she nodded, looking very interested. “And what is this?” She pointed to another computer, a more bulky old machine that Purdue had been working on. It was linked to the laptops and the lone server, but the only device he was actively typing on.

“This is where I am busy writing the program to decipher it,” he explained. “It has to constantly re-written according to the data coming from the input source. The algorithm of this device will ultimately help me ascertain the nature of the equation, but, thus far, it looks like another theory of quantum mechanics.”

Frowning heavily, Lilith Hurst studied the third screen for a short while. She looked at Purdue. “That calculation there seems to represent atomic energy. Did you notice?”

“My God, you are precious,” Purdue smiled, his eyes gleaming at her knowledge. “You are quite correct. It keeps yielding information that takes me back to some sort of collision that will generate pure atomic power.”

“Sounds dangerous,” she remarked. “It reminds me of the CERN super-collider and what they are trying to achieve with particle acceleration.”

“I think that was pretty much what Einstein discovered, but, like with the 1905 paper, he thought such knowledge too destructive for fools in military uniforms and suits. That is why he deemed it too perilous for publication,” Purdue related.

She laid her hand on his shoulder. “But you do not wear a uniform or a suit, now, do you, David?” she winked.

“I certainly do not,” he replied, sinking back into his chair with a satisfied groan.

The phone rang in the lobby. The landline of the mansion was usually answered by Jane or Charles, but she was off duty and he was outside with the grocery delivery man. Throughout the manor, there were several telephones mounted for the collective number to be answered anywhere in the house. Jane’s extension was wailing too, but her office was too far off.

“I will get it,” Lilith offered.

“You are a guest, you know,” Purdue reminded her cordially.

“Still? Geez, David, I have been here so much lately I am surprised you have not offered me a room yet,” she hinted as she walked briskly through the doorway and rushed up the stairs to the ground floor. Purdue could hear nothing over the deafening hum.

“Hello?” she answered, making sure not to identify herself.

A man’s voice replied, sounding foreign. His Dutch accent was thick, but she could understand him. “May I speak to David Purdue, please? It is rather urgent.”

“He is unavailable right now. In a meeting, as a mater of fact. May I take a message for him to return your call when he is done, perhaps?” she asked, grabbing the pen in the desk drawer to write on the small message pad.

“This is Dr. Kasper Jacobs,” the man identified himself. “Please have Mr. Purdue call me very urgently.”

He gave her his number and reiterated the emergency.

“Just tell him, it concerns the Dire Serpent. I know it makes no sense, but he will know what I am referring to,” Jacobs persisted.

“Belgium? The prefix of your number,” she asked.

“That is correct,” he affirmed. “Thank you kindly.”

“No problem,” she said. “Goodbye.”

She stripped off the top sheet and went back down to Purdue.

“Who was it?” he asked.

“Wrong number,” she shrugged. “I had to explain three times that this was not ‘Tracy’s Yoga Studio’ and that we are not open,” she laughed, tucking the paper into her pocket.

“That is a first,” Purdue chuckled. “We are not even listed. I like to keep a very low profile.”

“That is good. I always say that people who do not know my name when I answer my landline, should not even try to fool me,” she sneered. “Now, you get back to your programming and I will get us something to drink.”

After Dr. Kasper Jacobs failed to get David Purdue on the phone to warn him about the equation, he had to conceded that even attempting already made him feel better. Sadly, the slight lift of demeanor was not to last.

“Who was that you were talking to? You do know that there are no phones allowed in this area, right, Jacobs?” the detestable Zelda Bessler dictated from behind Kasper. He turned to face her with a smug retort. “That is Dr. Jacobs to you, Bessler. This time, I am in charge of this project.”

She could not deny it. Clifton Tuft had specifically set out the contract for the revised project, wherein Dr. Kasper Jacobs would be in charge of constructing the vessel needed for the experiment. Only he understood the theories involved in what the Order tried to accomplish based on the Einstein principal, so he was entrusted with the engineering side as well. Within a small time frame the vessel had to be completed. Far heavier and faster, the new object would need to be exceedingly larger than the one before, which caused the mutilation of a scientist and caused Jacobs to distance himself from the project.

“How are things progressing down here in the plant, Dr. Jacobs?” came the squeaky drawl of Clifton Tuft that Kasper so loathed. “I hope we are on schedule.”

Zelda Bessler had her hands in the pockets of her white lab coat, and swung ever so slightly form left to right and back again. She looked like a stupid little schoolgirl trying to impress the heartthrob and it made Jacobs sick. She smiled at Tuft. “If he did not spend so much time on the phone, he would probably get a lot more done.”

“I have enough knowledge of the components of this experiment to be able to make a call every now and then,” Kasper snapped at her with a cool disposition. “I do have a life outside of this secret cesspool you live in, Bessler.”

“Ouch,” she mocked him. “I choose to keep…” she looked seductively at the American magnate, “company with higher powers.”

Tuft’s big teeth climbed out from between his lips, but he did not respond to her inference. “Seriously, Dr. Jacobs,” he said, taking Kasper by the arm lightly and drawing him away form Zelda Bessler’s earshot, “how are we faring on the construction of the bullet?”

“I hate that you call it that, you know, Cliff,” Kasper confessed.

“But that is what it is. In order for us to magnify the effects of the last experiment, we will need something that travels as fast as a bullet, with an equal dispersion of weight and velocity to accomplish the task,” Tuft reminded him, as the two men strolled further away from a frustrated Bessler. The construction site was located in Meerdaalwoud, a woodland area east of Brussels. Lying unassumingly on a farm owned by Tuft, the plant featured an underground tunnel system that was completed several years ago. Few of the scientists on loan from legitimate government and university academia ever got to see the underground, but it was there.

“I am almost done, Cliff,” Kasper said. “All that is still left to calculate is the total weight, which I need from you. Remember, for the experiment to be successful, you have to furnish me with the exact weight of the vessel, or ‘bullet’, as you say. And Cliff, it has to be accurate to the gram, or else no genius equation will help me make this happen.”

Clifton Tuft chuckled in a bitter way. Much like a man about to break very bad news to a good friend, he cleared his throat through the awkward smirk on his ugly face.

“What? Can you give it to me or what?” Kasper pressed.

“I will give you those details shortly after the summit in Brussels tomorrow,” Tuft said.

“You mean the international summit on the news?” Kasper asked. “I am not interested in politics.”

“You should be, pal,” Tuft grunted like a dirty old man. “Of all people, you are the main player in the facilitation of this experiment. Tomorrow, the International Atomic Energy Agency will convene with the international veto powers of the NPT.”

“The NPT?” Kasper frowned. He was under the impression that his part in the project was purely experimental, but the NPT was a political matter.

“Non-proliferation Treaty, pal. Jesus, you really do not bother to research where your work goes after you publish the findings, do you?” the American laughed, slapping Kasper playfully on the back. “All the active members of this project should represent the Order tomorrow night, but we need you here to oversee the final stages.”

“Do these world leaders even know about the Order?” Kasper asked hypothetically.

“The Order of the Black Sun is everywhere, my friend. It is the most powerful world force since the Roman Empire, but only the elite know this. We have people in each of the NPT countries’ high command seats. Vice-presidents, royals, presidential advisers and decision makers,” Tuft elaborated dreamily. “Even mayors, helping us infiltrate on a municipal level. Attend. As orchestrator of our next power move, you are entitled to enjoy the spoils, Kasper.”

Kasper’s head was spinning at the revelation. His heart thundered under his lab coat, but he kept his pose and nodded in agreement. ‘Look enthusiastic!’ he urged himself. “Wow, I am flattered. Looks like I am finally getting the credit I deserve,” he bragged in his charade, and Tuft bought every word.

“That’s the spirit! Now, get everything ready, so that only the numbers can still be thrown in the calculation for us to initiate, okay?” Tuft bellowed happily. He left Kasper to join up with Bessler up the hallway, leaving Kasper shocked and confused, but one thing was certain. He had to get hold of David Purdue or he had to sabotage his own work.