Rogue Neutron

By Hugh Vest

The U.S. is set to propel itself into scientific world dominance and a new understanding of the universe with its highly classified underground research facility called Project BABEL. It is America's greatest secret. Years ago America planted the first flag on the moon, now it will bury the first flag of this new frontier deep within its own hills.

BABEL's creator, Dr. Mercer Collin, and his team of misfit geniuses have tirelessly prepared for its first historic experiment. Something, though, goes terribly wrong. During final preparations, BABEL's lead scientist covertly runs the experiment himself and then mysteriously dies just after locking the data in the project's supercomputers with an unknown password.

An unlikely Dr. Neil Hendrix, BABEL's new lead scientist, stumbles both upon his friend’s secret experiment and Mercer's evil ambitions for BABEL. Suspecting his friend sought to protect the data from Mercer, Neil goes "rogue" departing BABEL's lair on a last ditch mission to pry the dead scientist's password from the mind of his estranged daughter, Anna, and to secure the data. Mercer's relentless agent, ex-Navy SEAL "Snake" Blake, is sent to hunt Neil and he quickly picks up the pursuit. Battling the demons of his past, will Neil's path of discovery with the beautiful Anna unlock more than the key's to BABEL's kingdom? Rogue Neutron is a race to the very last page with the fate of science and the knowledge of creation hanging in the balance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hugh Vest
• Release date: Jan 4, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301600359

Hugh Vest

Hugh Vest is a native of Independence, Missouri, and a 1986 Graduate of the United States Air Force Academy. He is intimately familiar with the world of advanced technology having retired as an Air Force F-16 Fighter Pilot after serving for over twenty years. He has been a “Top Gun” in two separate fighter wings and he is a command pilot with over 4,000 total flying hours, 120 hours over Iraq, and 2,600 hours in the F-16. His first book, Employee Warriors and the Future of the American Fighting Force, published by AirUniversity Press, was a unique study in military culture. He recently published in print, Pulling G's: Fighter Pilot Perspectives on Faith. Rogue Neutron is his first novel followed by Sadie's Wings which was just released. Hugh currently resides in Yorktown, Virginia, with his wife, Tracy, and daughter, Delaney.

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ROGUE NEUTRON

Copyright 2016 Hugh Vest

Published by Hugh Vest at Smashwords

Discover other titles by Hugh Vest:

Sadie's Wings

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Book One The Event

They said to each other, Come, let’s make bricks and bake them thoroughly. They used brick instead of stone, and tar for mortar. Then they said, Come, let us build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves; otherwise, we will be scattered over the face of the whole earth."

(Genesis 11:3-4)

1

October 2010.

An early chill blanketed the Cumberland Mountains announcing the inevitable departure of a long, hot summer. Doctor Jack, buried in an immense man-made cocoon deep within those mountains, was oblivious to the world above.

The world above, however, was much less aware of Jack’s existence below.

Project BABEL and Doctor Jack at this moment, five-hundred feet below the Tennessee Hills, simply did not exist. The mountain pines whispered above with the wind, but they kept their secrets just like Dr. Jack and the other mole-like inhabitants living underground within the Project BABEL facility.

Dr. Jack posed a striking image seated at Project BABEL's master event console that night. Patches of uncombed white hair jutted from the top of his head and were offset by his thick, black reading glasses. His rounded body perfectly filled his large console chair. Tan polyester pants and a white, button-down shirt complete with its own pencil pocket protectors accented his mad professor look. Jack, though, was far from mad. Hidden behind thick glasses, his bright blue eyes beamed. The light bundled up inside him could only find its escape through his eyes. Their radiance was fueled by the brilliant and aware mind that burned within.

Dr. Jack’s real name was Jackson Charles III. While his name wasn't listed in the annals of academic glory, he arguably possessed the most brilliant scientific mind in the world.

A maze of monitors, gauges, and keyboards displayed themselves in a semicircle around Dr. Jack, ready to do his bidding. Jack’s fingers whirled on the keyboard in front of him. Approaching from behind, the scene gave the eerie aura of a crazed organist composing a haunting tune. As Jack feverishly typed, only the low, droning hum of the BABEL facility generators could be heard.

Jack paused momentarily and sifted through his mixed feelings and his goal for the evening’s endeavor. He briefly reflected on the reaction of his boss and friend, Mercer Collin. Mercer was Jack’s friend. He had placed great trust in Dr. Jack. Jack had more than earned his twenty-year reign as Research Team Director at Project BABEL and king of its science team.

He had never betrayed Mercer’s trust......until now.

Sitting at the console, Jack picked up a shiny metal flask with a cross on it and took a drink of the water inside. The flask, bearing the mark of his savior and filled with water, was his constant companion reminding him of his redemption from alcohol and the sin that had consumed him. The small science team respectfully called him Captain Jack for the drink that bore his name and his fondness for now drinking only water from the flask.

Forgive me Mercer, my good friend, but I really have no choice, Jack pronounced to no one.

His mental vacation now over, Jack’s fingers came to life once again dutifully pounding on the keys……

Hydro generator and cooling systems are a go, the dry voice of a White Hat announced on Jack’s headset.

In the BABEL underground world there were three divisions of people easily identified by hats and coats. White Coats included Dr. Jack and the scientist team members. White hats were worn by the masses of engineers and construction personnel that forged and maintained the Project BABEL particle collider complex. Last, and certainly not least, were the feared Black Hats consisting of the countless guardians of Project BABEL security.

Assigning a hat or coat to Dr. Mercer Collin himself had been a source of endless debate through the years. Ideas that were suggested included a wizard’s cap, a black coat, or even a purple robe. Mercer managed to escape these labels and had taken to wearing business suits with no coats or hats. In an unintended way, his business suits did define him as one not so easily placed in any of the three categories.

Initiating event beam acceleration test, the White Coat Dr. Jack responded after pausing to check each of his surrounding monitors. The power test would soon be complete.

A familiar tightness was fanning itself across his chest and two streaks of perspiration inched down his cheeks as he hacked on the keyboard. Overweight and the owner of a distressed liver, Jack’s health had become a walking time bomb. One day he knew he would need to see a doctor about these nightly bouts of pain, but the enormity of his work seemed to completely overshadow anything so trivial. The hum of the distant generators grew steadily in the distance matching the ringing now pounding in Jack’s ears.

Jack’s hidden plan for the night’s power test was beginning.

The power test started above in the hills as the abandoned Tennessee Valley Authority dam and hydroelectric generator churned at full power diverting the entirety of its energy output to the hidden underground facility. Its electric waves boosted subatomic particles to an unprecedented energy level destined to shatter every known theory of particle physics. Enormous magnets precisely cooled to absolute zero carefully steered the particle beams around a giant arc of several miles. With each rotation lasting only a fraction of a second, the beams gathered force.

During the upcoming event, when the beam’s energies peaked, they would then be directed into the collision chamber where they would meet. The chamber itself was a single room full of sensors arranged in a large cylinder. A collision within the chamber, however, was scheduled for the actual planned event experiment in two days.

Tonight, though, was a simple routine power run for the White Hat engineers only.

The humming of the generators and ringing in Jack’s ears had reached a crescendo, and the power check was complete.

After several commands from Dr. Jack, the dormant collision chamber and BABEL PARADIGM computers became suddenly alive.

Through the ringing in his ears came the voice of a White Hat like a shout from the depths of a tunnel, Uhhh, Event console, our power test is complete. I’m now showing commands authorizing the beams to be diverted to the collision chamber, is that correct?

A confusing numbness worked its way from his fingers up his left arm—his ticking time bomb of a heart had clicked zero. Jack’s right hand instinctively took over and launched the command directing the rogue beams into the chamber for the collision. The scene became surreal for Jack as he found himself looking over his body starting to slump over the event console. It was with a sense of wonder that he suddenly realized his impending death.

A brilliant and unusual glow erupted from the chamber monitoring screen. Dr. Jack saw the word processing displayed on the computer, and then he saw the final move of his right-hand hit enter. PARADIGM DATA ENCRYPTION PROGRAM ENABLED now showed itself prominently across the center of the screen.

Jack found himself staring at the screen showing the inside of the collection chamber---the ground zero site of the unauthorized event.

A curious and haunting dark mêlée of scribbled, almost illegible letters stared back from the chamber walls. Jack could make out a Y, and then a V..... Was he hallucinating? He didn't know. He didn't care.

The letters faded and Jack was startled to be staring at a face morphing into a soothing smile. Warmth bathed him.

Jack’s besieged heart drummed its last beat and one of the greatest minds of the Twenty First Century produced its final thought. He would now have all the answers.

The futility of his earthly genius was laid bare as he was welcomed into eternity.

Oh my, was all he could say.

2

Neil Hendrix awoke from his usual nightmare. The flashing lights, the car, the horrified stares were all there again like a stuck movie clip just waiting for him to close his eyes and hit play. He had viewed every detail of the dream over the last five years. It had been completely disturbing the first year jolting him awake every time. Lately he had just found himself wandering curiously through each detail like a remote visitor in a horror movie set. It was almost as if it didn’t happen...almost.

Sometimes he even welcomed the dream as a diversion to his restless mind. Flushing out some theory in the middle of the night was the price he often paid for his genius. At least once a week he would be up at night in his study with burning, sleepy eyes, scribbling on scraps of paper to satisfy the cravings of his racing mind.

Neil loved ideas.

While he possessed PhD’s in both physics and mathematics, his imagination, and the development of what ifs had propelled him through eight years of post-graduate work. Some of his work remained buried in academia as gold nugget bits of research waiting to be discovered by probing students.

Some of his work belonged to Mercer Collin’s BABEL Science Team.

Like Dr. Jack, Neil had been saved by Mercer and drawn into Project BABEL at the lowest point of his life.

Neil had found a welcome home at BABEL for the ideas that laid constant siege to his mind. In fact, he had to admit he had found much more in Project BABEL. He had found purpose, he had found colleagues who understood him, and, yes, he had even found friends.

Excitement over the upcoming event had nearly kept Neil from sleeping the night before. Would they at last discover the nature of gravity or how to create an atom? Would they peel the outer layer of the onion off of scientific understanding or would they slice right to the core? Neil was glad when sleep had finally overtaken him preventing him from spending another night up in his study.... even if the welcome rest brought along the nightmare as its companion.

Neil had made a checklist to prepare him for his routine journey to Project BABEL, but he had forgotten where he put it. As he rushed around his apartment gathering stuff for his bag, he paused to notice his fish was floating in the top of the tank.

Fish, as he had named him, floated there as yet another reminder of a failed test Neil had given himself. Neil was endlessly pursuing self-help projects to boost his attention to detail and put an end to his forgetfulness. His latest craze was to litter his apartment with post it notes reminder checklists.

Fish had been perfectly healthy upon his return from his last trip to BABEL. Mrs. Lucia next door had dutifully taken care of him for Neil while he was gone. Apparently, Fish had met his death at Neil’s hands during the last few weeks. Funny, he pondered. He remembered feeding him at one time but, he just couldn’t quite remember when that was. He would probably run into yet another post it notes checklist accompanied by the fish food hidden in the open somewhere in his apartment. It would be likely sitting right next to his things to take on his routine trip post it checklist.

Neil’s appearance did not betray what was commonly associated with absent-minded brilliance. He stood just over six feet, and he was proud of the mop of light brown hair he had retained in his mid-thirties. He had inherited his father’s athletic build and natural coordination. It had all seemed like a cruel joke to Neil growing up. His dad had been an athlete and high school football hero, and Neil had proved to be an utter disappointment as a dreamer and academic. Neil had often felt like a stranger in a rent-a-body and wondered why these gifts had been genetically bestowed upon him except to confuse and enrage his dad. Middle age, though, had softened the joke as the extra bulges around his midsection detracted from his athleticism. He suspected he would have expanded to Dr. Jack’s stature except for the fact that he often became engrossed in a project and forgot to eat.

Neil’s soft brown eyes did not seem to glow from the active mind within. If the eyes were the window to the mind, it was almost as if a veil was drawn over his genius.

Neil gathered his duffle bag and started out of his apartment to his car. He passed Mrs. Lucia in the hallway and smiled and said hello but his mind was miles away now buried in Tennessee Hills.

Fifteen minutes later, during his routine drive to the commuter lot, he suddenly remembered that he had forgotten to tell her about Fish.

Neil’s old Toyota fell into the sleepy I-95 commuter lineup. The lumbering arteries snaked their way northward to the D.C. heart, absorbing the concrete capillaries that fed them. Neil’s driving muscle memory propelled him along while his mind vacationed on new PARADIGM theories, he had proposed supporting the nature of gravity. Except in gross applications like dropping a ball or dancing on the moon’s surface, no one really knew how gravity worked. Even the nice, clean equations didn’t seem to always match the motion of spacecraft around a planet. If BABEL's analytical program worked, the next Event could open up the true mystery behind the force of gravity. Understanding, creating, or altering gravity would be an enormous leap up Project BABEL’s tower to the heavens. Potential applications branched into defense, medicine, travel, ….

Neil’s car suddenly died as he was pulling into an open spot in the commuter lot. As he coasted to a lucky stop perfectly within the parking spot, he glanced at the overlooked gas gauge which now registered left of E.

With his mind still enjoying its excursion, Neil carried an excited half smile fixed on his face. The grin separated him from the hundreds of Monday commuter zombies that boarded the train to D.C. Even the ridiculous sight of Neil scribbling an equation on the inside of his forearm with a pen did nothing but raise a few weary commuter eyebrows. Where were the post it notes when you needed them, he mused.

The arrival at the airport finally gave him the excuse to reel his mind back to reality.

His journey partially complete, Neil strolled into the waiting area at the private air terminal with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Neil’s eyes darted around the crowded waiting area silently picking out his BABEL Science Team friends carefully spread throughout the room. Quick glances back of acknowledgement from his comrades completed the secret reunion.

As usual, The Kid was doing a poor job of blending inconspicuously. The twelve-year-old prodigy was showing off again, holding the complete attention of a group of travelers around him. Neil watched with amused interest as The Kid collected a twenty-dollar bet from the man next to him. He had once again completed his expert Sudoku puzzle in less than a minute. He was about to start another when he caught a glimpse of concern from Neil and then suddenly decided to decline the offer.

With a bowl haircut and a frame, a foot shorter than most twelve-year-olds, William had been appropriately named after the famed rebel Billy the Kid. Like many in the Science Team, his gifted mind had isolated him. By the time he was ten, the mathematics and computer wizard had already completed graduate school. His parents were utterly confused by his youthful brilliance. They treated him like an adult, but he wasn’t an adult. Not knowing what to do, they chose the worse available option and ignored him.

One day, an utterly bored Kid successfully hacked into defense networks on a dare eliciting the interest of Mercer Collin and company. Relieved their misfit prodigy wouldn’t be hauled off to jail for computer crimes, the Kid’s parents eagerly agreed to send him to what was called a special school run by Dr. Collin for several weeks at a time. The parents transferred their responsibility of dealing with the confusing boy to this nice man, but, at that point, they would have been equally satisfied with the jail option.

Neil, one of the Kid’s only real friends, winked at him and he winked back.

Louie The Bod, the most colorful member of the Team, was uncharacteristically quiet but stood out visually like a neon sign in the waiting area. His tropical floral-patterned shirt was a perfect mismatch for his lime green polyester pants. Louis Pastorelli’s cheesy smile seemed to complete his personification as a tacky Vegas tourist plucked straight from the strip. Flanking Louie on each side of his chair were the arm braces he used to shuffle his crippled legs along. Louie had never revealed what misfortune had confined him to his braces, but he had laughingly nicknamed himself The Bod. Calling him The Bod after his disability had been uncomfortable to the group at first until they had gone beyond his fake smile and gotten to know the real Louis.

Louie sported a rare sarcastic wit, and he went out of his way to flirt with almost every woman he came in contact with. Through it all, however, a disarming streak of sincerity beamed through. He was too likable and outrageous to offend.

The Bod’s two great passions, both played out in the dessert nights of Arizona, had won him a seat in Mercer's BABEL Science Team. As one of the world’s great minds in astrophysics, Louie was a consultant to the National Astronomical Observatory just outside of Tucson. When a night didn’t find him gazing at the stars, he was found gazing at the card tables in the casinos. When Louie’s gambling fame and debts had at last eclipsed his academic notoriety, Mercer Collin had come calling.

The Bod had helped the Leper Colony of misfit scientists see the continuum of the very big and the very small. After all, physics was physics, and matter was matter regardless of if the observation platform was a telescope or a microscope. On a grand scale the properties of stars, galaxies, and planetary bodies were found to mirror the infinitely small innards of an atom. Together, Neil and Louie had even postulated mind numbing theories relating the infinitely small and infinitely large. They dove into such questions as whether our galaxy was just part of an atom or if an atom itself contained galaxies of its own.

Three seats down from Louie sat Khadira or Mama Kha. A picture of serenity, Mama Kha quietly crocheted while humming to herself. She was nearing sixty and her graying, jet black hair was pulled meticulously into a bun. She wore a long, flowing skirt and tennis shoes, and her nervous energy was betrayed by her constantly shaking foot.

Khadira’s story was well known within BABEL. A brilliant and outspoken nuclear physicist, she defected from Iran after her husband and son accidentally died at the hands of the Revolutionary Guard. After her debriefing, Mercer pleaded with his contacts in Intelligence circles to release Khadira to his Science Team. As always, in the end Mercer got his way and she happily sought her revenge against her former government by enlisting in his intellectual army.

Vengeance possessed her mind and soul.

At first, she had attacked every problem with an intensity that was unsettling to the rest of the Scientists. She claimed she would work until her brain bled. But the enormity of Project BABEL’s tasks finally wore Khadira down and the seething revenge in her settled in for the long haul. As fellow brothers and sisters in a secret army, Khadira soon came to adopt her fellow Team Members as her surrogate family. Every non-working moment she doted on the others earning her the respectful title of Mama Kha.

The skeleton in Mama Kha’s closet was simply that she existed. Her loss had been a blow to Iran’s nuclear program and the discovery of her defection would undoubtedly put her in grave and immediate danger. Her life was quite literally in Mercer’s hands.

Mercer’s plan had been perfect. He had gathered into his lair the most incredibly gifted minds ever assembled in one place.

At the lowest points in their lives when they were broken, outcast, and misunderstood, Mercer had miraculously appeared. He ignited their minds and promised them a new beginning, belonging, and a place in destiny. The price simply revolved around two words: loyalty and secrecy—a toll extracted by his army of Black Hats.

The members of his special Science Team White Coats were all plagued by their own personal demons.

Mercer was the bone collector. He fed from their minds fueling his BABEL machine while he kept all their skeletons tightly locked in his closet. As the band of White Coat geniuses grew closer in their hidden retreat and came to understand the forces involved in bringing them there, they began calling themselves the Leper Colony. Mercer himself would have preferred using a more motivating and positive cliché for his scientific dream team. But the Leper Colony label stuck for the cluster of gifted outcasts thrust on their own island below the ground.

As darkness enveloped the small commercial airline terminal, the Leper’s ride arrived.

Neil watched the extremely ordinary business jet taxi to a halt out front, and as the engines slowly whined down the door opened, and their escort exited. OAL was painted in small letters on the tail—few knew it stood for Ordinary Air Line. A defense-funded clandestine charter service, most simply called it OAL. The flight attendant, who was actually a Black Hat security staffer minus the hat, came to the door and announced that flight number six sixty-nine would be boarding. For perhaps the fiftieth time, Neil watched the OAL passengers perfectly execute the boarding plan. Randomly seated in the terminal and pretending not to know each other, the Lepers and four extras made their way forward to the door. Neil recognized two of the extras as regular White Hat engineers. The other two had to be first-timers and were carrying two trunks of what appeared to be some kind of medical supplies. Neil noticed the first timers were going to great and obvious pains to appear bored and uninterested. One kept producing fake yawns and the other was doing a poor job of reading her paper.

Neil always liked being in line behind The Bod. As he clanked by the flight attendant dragging his useless legs he barked, Nice pre-boarding call for folks needing a little extra time, I can just feel the love from OAL, and, by the way, I hope this time there will be drinks and snacks!

The Black Hat met The Bod’s smirk, always a pleasure Mr. Pastorelli.

As Neil strolled out to the plane behind Louie, who was actually moving very quickly, he noticed a particularly cool breeze down by his ankles. He would need to add some sort of wardrobe post-it notes to his collection because he had forgotten his socks.

The OAL jet had been stripped down inside removing every bit of luxury. Worn standard airline seats now cluttered the interior. After the door was closed, the Black Hat immediately took the jump seat and dispensed with any of the standard safety laundry lists. The muted façade of the terminal instantly faded after boarding and conversations erupted between friends and acquaintances. Neil sat next to The Kid who had already fallen asleep wired into his MP3 player. Across the center isle sat the two first-timers. Neil desperately wanted to ask them what their business was on the BABEL express, but that would be a rookie mistake in the secrecy business.

No one discussed it in this setting, but Neil could sense an air of excitement and anticipation among his Leper brethren.

It was the Event.

In a few days they alone might possess what had never before been revealed to mankind—the secrets behind the forces and fabric of the universe. A haunting thought pecked its way into Neil’s ramblings: Would he be able to casually stroll back on this plane and go about his ordinary life with this knowledge burned into his mind, or, would Mercer and his Black Hats now confine the Lepers to a permanent life in the dungeons of Project BABEL?

Then Neil thought of his friend and mentor Captain Jack. Dr. Jack would know what to do. During his time off from BABEL Neil had come to miss his conversations with Jack more and more. Between sessions of BABEL theorizing and planning, the two would delve easily into topics of life, society, and politics. It was always personal with Jack. His life was an open book. Neil thought several times after their talks that he might actually know just about as much about Jack as Mercer did.

Talking with Jack was often uncomfortable and was never a one-way street, but something drove Neil to keep coming back for more. It was about purpose. Jack had this unique way of ripping apart every conversation and finding purpose. Maybe it was because Jack himself had seemed to find an enviable purpose and peace in his own life that he was such an enigma to Neil. Neil wasn’t exactly sure why he was drawn to Jack, but he was sure it was a different sort of magnetism than he sensed in Mercer.

Neil was even toying with the idea of actually entrusting Jack with the skeleton in his closet that had brought him to BABEL. Aside from the dreams that were his nightly companion, Neil had almost convinced himself that his nightmare did not happen. He just wasn’t sure if he could open that fortress of numbing pain he had constructed within his heart.

Jack would understand. Of anyone, he knew his good friend Jack would understand.

Neil could see the pilots casually running their checklists up front. They wore military green flight suits boasting only black Velcro where unit patches and nametags should be. The cockpit lighting was all covered with curious green filters giving it an eerie green glow. The Black Hat attendant shut the