Chapter One

Her coworkers clustered around her, anxious and helpless as she worked furiously toward a solution. The clock was ticking – and she was stuck. Checking the timer on the screen in front of her she saw that the reactor would go critical in thirty seconds. Twenty nine… twenty eight… twenty seven… what if she just… no, that wouldn’t work… twenty two, twenty one… She continued working the computer keyboard desperately as the seconds ticked by.  Sweat beaded on her forehead and began to stream into her eyes. She tried to wipe it away, but it was no use…she couldn’t see! She could only listen as the countdown reached its end. Three… two… BEEP—BEEP---BEEP…

            THWHACK! Her eyes opened as she heard the now familiar sound of crashing plastic, splintering on the hardwood floor.  Natalie sighed; she’d need yet another alarm clock. It was that blasted dream again! She supposed it was some inner voice trying to tell her to chill out; that she was an unregenerate, overachieving control freak. Or maybe her job was finally driving her insane.

Yeah, that‘s probably it, Natalie thought, I’m going crazy.

Truth be told, the job had been getting to her lately. As one of Area 51’s top scientists, Natalie Collins was expected to produce flawless results. While not an actual member of the military, she was employed by the US Air Force. A fact she merely tolerated at first; however, as the years went by, she developed a deep respect for General Parker and the rest of the people at Area 51. The one thing she hadn’t gotten used to though was the intense pressure for tangible results over testing. Natalie was a firm believer in testing, testing, testing.

As she sighed again, she swung her legs over the side of her large, four poster bed and padded to the bathroom. Stopping at the sink, she surveyed the reflection in front of her. Her critical eye saw dark hair that was too wavy to tame properly, a pale face that was too long, and a chest that was smaller than she’d like. One feature she actually liked was her green eyes. Yes, she’d been complimented on those more than once… particularly by Wolfgang.

Stepping into the closet, Natalie smiled wryly as she thought of her slightly spastic research assistant. Wolfgang came to the United States from Germany when he was just 16 to attend CIT. When he graduated this past spring, his incredible intelligence and creativity landed him a position as Natalie’s research assistant at the mysterious Area 51 – making him all of 20 years old.

Natalie felt great affection for him; he reminded her of her younger brother Jon. His romantic overtures, however, both amused and perplexed her. She had decided right from the start to ignore his adolescent crush. Perhaps she could play cupid with one of her colleague’s research assistant’s? Susanne (RA to her project partner, Kelly Olsen) was about his age, and she had the cutest dimples – maybe there was an opportunity there? Hmm…

Ok, Natalie said to herself, shaking her head as if to physically erase the rabbit trail that beckoned, Better get it in gear. Don’t want to be late.

General Parker had requested a meeting with the research staff at ten hundred hours regarding her current project and she had some results she wanted to go over with Wolfgang beforehand.

Natalie sighed as she donned the black slacks and ruby red top she’d lain out for today. More meetings wouldn’t speed results.

What I’d like, she thought as she twisted her hair up into her usual style, is for the officers to take care of military business, and leave the science projects up to those of us who know what we’re doing.

Retrieving her small purse from the antique entry table; Natalie shrugged on her jacket and headed to the base research facility.

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         As Natalie breezed through the corridor leading to her lab, she very literally ran into a petite blonde carefully balancing a stack of papers.

         “Oh! I didn’t see you there!” Natalie said apologetically.

         “Apparently not,” Kelly laughed as she attempted to gather the papers, some still fluttering to the ground, “In a hurry?”

         “Actually, yes,” said Natalie, as she helped her friend and fellow scientist pick up her notes. “I have some research I need to go over with Wolfgang before meeting with General Parker and it’s already oh-nine-thirty”

         Kelly smiled understandingly, “Then go! I’ve got this.”

         “Really?” questioned Natalie, reluctant to leave her friend with the mess.

         “Really,” she replied, having already scooped up the last of her papers, “The more prepared you are, the better the rest of us look.”

         “Thanks,” laughed Natalie as she sailed down the hallway to her lab.

         “But you owe me a coffee in the mess later!” Kelly called over her shoulder.

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         Wolfgang, working feverishly at his console, kept one eye on the door. As soon as he saw Natalie, he hopped up from his chair to retrieve the steaming cup of coffee waiting on the hotplate.

         “Two shots, whipped cream, just like you like it,” he said in his usual animated style. His straight hair was arranged in a spiky ‘do. That, along with his severely rectangular glasses and baggy clothing combined to give him a stylishly nerdy look. So incredibly thin, it often amazed Natalie that he found clothing to fit him at all.

         “Thanks Wolfgang,” she said as she took the steaming mug from his hands, “Do you have the report I asked you to do last night?”

         “Sure thing boss,” he said as he bounced back to his desk to retrieve the papers. “I documented each trial, along with pertinent data as well as explanations for any non-scientist who needs to be ‘in-the-know’” he said, a touch of pride in his voice for anticipating the questions he knew his perfectionist boss would be waiting to ask.

         Smirking good-naturedly at his all-inclusive response, Natalie said, “Thanks for all the hard work. You know I loath documenting.”

         She turned her attention to the little mini-museum they had containing all of their experiment subjects. First in line were kiwi fruits, then bananas, then onto melons of varying sizes. Last in line was a large ham – it had made it completely across the compound. Amazing results for a project that some deemed no more than wishful thinking, others completely insane.

         Two years ago the current administration had given Area 51 an ultimatum. Produce and develop technologies that would give the United States a distinct military advantage, or funding would be cut. Simple as that. No regard given to the amazing advancements in medicine and farming; simply, “Give us a tactical advantage or pack up and go home”.

         Natalie had been furious when the news filtered down to her area. She wasn’t exactly a pacifist; but she wasn’t about giving everyone bigger guns either. However, as a scientist she knew that Area 51 was the place to be, so she did her job. She had no idea she would come across an idea as fantastic as the project she was currently working on. Six months after the governmental ultimatum, she was reading a paper in World Scientific written by a doctor of quantum physics who theorized that you could transport matter from one location to another virtually instantaneously via a method he called “quantum tunneling”. Given that quantum mechanics was Natalie’s field of expertise, she was instantly intrigued and began thorough research.

         After months of intensive research, Natalie proposed the project to General Parker. He approved it and allowed her to pick her team; christening it “Project Fort”, referencing author Charles Hoyt Fort, the man who coined the term teleportation. Maybe I’ll name the ham Charlie, mused Natalie…
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      “Doctor Collins,” General Parker appended as those closest to the door were shuffling through, “would you mind staying for just a moment more?”

         Natalie stopped and laid her notes back down on the table, curious at being held after the meeting.  This was unusual.

         “I wanted to tell you how pleased I am with your progress on the project,” he began, “you and all the rest of your team.  You’ve done outstanding work, and frankly, made a believer out of a lot of people who thought this idea was a colossal waste of time and money.”

         “Thank you,” she responded simply.  She waited for the other shoe to drop.  Parker didn’t hold people after meetings just to tell them they were doing well. 

         He smiled.  “I also wanted to let you know that the Pentagon is very pleased with your work so far, as well.”  The smile began to fade now, and the giant caterpillar eyebrows furrowed.  “But, as pleased as they are, they are also impatient.  They’d like to see more than foodstuffs being tunneled from one end of the base to the other.”

         There it was. Almost as if by premonition she’d known that she needed to accomplish something more dramatic.  Her chest beginning to tighten, she made a deliberate effort to stay calm and objective about the situation.  She was performing admirably, surpassing expectations…Parker had just said as much.  But she wasn’t doing enough.  It still just wasn’t quite good enough.

         Parker interrupted her budding train of self-deprecating thought. “I’m going to cut to the chase, Doctor.  You’ve shown the powers that be that this thing is actually possible, and now they want more.  We’ll have the funding to keep you working for a while, but the timetable needs to be stepped up.  They want to see us able to use this thing successfully on animals, and they want to see it relatively soon.

         “I know how hard you have worked on this, and how much you demand of yourself personally.  I sincerely appreciate your dedication to your work and all of your efforts to date." He went on, his hands spread, "So, I want you to understand that my decision has nothing to do with my satisfaction with you and your achievements.  It has everything to do with satisfying the people above me and the people above them.

         “I have decided to enlist additional aid, in the form of Doctor David Westmore.  I’m sure you are familiar with his work.” 

         “He doesn’t work with the military, Sir.”

         “He does now.” came the succinct reply.

         “He won’t work outside his hometown.”

         “He will as of tomorrow.  He arrives on base at ten-hundred hours.  I will have someone show him around, meet with him myself for a bit and then get him up to speed on research and test results. After that, you and he can meet and go from there.”

         Still mulling, Natalie decided on a different tack.  “With all due respect, Sir, do your superiors understand that this is not a process that can be rushed?  If they want people to be able to safely travel this way, we need to be sure to go about testing it methodically and thoroughly.  We still have a lot to do before testing this with chimps or humans, and bringing in another mind--albeit a brilliant one--will not make a difference in how long it takes to reach that point.”

         Parker leaned forward a little in his seat as he responded, “Bringing in Westmore’s brilliant mind should show them just that.  He is the number one intellect in the world when it comes to quantum theory and mechanics.  When he comes in and assesses the situation, he will reiterate the points you have just made, and they will not be able to ignore his judgment, nor will they be able to supersede his reasoning by calling in a ‘better’ scientist.  He is as good as it gets; there will be no additional opinions to be sought after Westmore delivers his.”

         Natalie’s proprietary nature still rankled at the idea of having to have someone called in to validate her work. However, recalling an incident last year with Lieutenant Gregory, she knew that Parker would not be easily dissuaded from what he thought was the best course of action. 

        Natalie was also sure that Parker believed this would be a benefit to her personally, that by verifying her method and opinions she would feel more confident in the progress of her accomplishments so far.  She’d really felt the pressure to produce lately, and despite the fact that she’d already gone farther than anyone else had in this arena she still felt she should be able to show more for her considerable efforts. Parker simply wanted to help her overcome this lack of tangible progress.

        Drawing in a resigned breath, Natalie decided that this didn’t have to be a drawn out process with Westmore.  He was bright; he would catch on quickly, substantiate her position and then he would be gone.

        “All right then.  Guess I’ll see you again tomorrow after Westmore gets here.”

        Parker took a moment to study her expression, not sure that he was comfortable with her easy acquiescence.  She looked at him steadily, her face placid.  She had never been one to mislead or play games.  He smiled again.  “See you tomorrow, Doctor Collins.”

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      At approximately 30,000 ft., David Westmore was studiously avoiding looking out the window to his left. Glancing at the man next to him in irritation, he decided to close his eyes.

         Would it have been so hard to switch seats with me? David wondered to himself, recalling the incident that had occurred before takeoff.

         …As soon as David had discovered that seat “J-12” was a window seat – he panicked. Having never flown before, the sandy-haired, forty-year-old MIT professor was certain he did not want a window seat.

         The military, he’d thought after they called, always in an all-fired hurry. He had tried to persuade them to allow him time to travel by land – but the stern-voiced general was firm in his insistence that David be there first thing on Tuesday. Why did I even agree to this? But even as the question entered his mind, David knew the answer. The world of the quantum was his passion and he had just been promised unlimited resources to take over a top secret project regarding his latest pet theory - quantum tunneling.

         He had called the airline to see if it would be possible to secure a different seat, and was assured by the clerk that it wouldn’t be necessary. Apparently there are always several empty seats on the way to Nevada, and he would be free to sit in any one of them. However, as David was boarding the flight 45 minutes ago, he had been dismayed to see every seat filled. Awkwardly making his way down the small, crowded aisle, he muttered under his breath, “Military… penny pinching… hate airplanes”.

         Approaching his seat, he saw who would be sitting next to him. He was a portly, irritated looking man; wearing a rumpled suit that looked as if it had not been changed for several days.

         “Excuse me…” David said to the man.
         
         Silence…

         “Excuse me?” he said a little louder.

         The man grunted.

         “Hello!”

         This time the man lifted his irritated grey eyes to meet David’s own blue ones.

         “What?” he sighed wearily.

         “Um… would you mind… well, I’ve never flown before, you see… and … I, I can’t sit by the window...” he finished lamely.

         The man slowly turned to look at the empty seat beside him; then at the window, and back to David.

         “Well then,” he said slowly, “I guess you have a problem.”

         “Well, sir,” David said, trying to deal with this man in a civilized manner, “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind trading seats with me.”

         The man pulled out his ticket. He appeared to be studying it carefully.

         “Come here,” he said, motioning for David to bend down. “You see this?” he asked, pointing at his seat number, “This is my seat. This is the seat I’m sitting in. Should you turn out to be a terrorist or something, I want to make sure I’m sitting in my seat and you’re sitting in your seat. That way, the authorities are sure about who’s who, okay?”

         “O… kay…?” said David. Freak, he thought to himself, awkwardly stepping over the man’s legs to his window seat, I guess if I were a terrorist, we know who’d be the first to go…

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