Project Gold Tooth: Book One

By L. L. Cronin

Canadian scientist Ron McKinley has done it! He has secretly developed a stunning new technology that will forever change the world; a master-key to unlock riches beyond imagination; a technology that, if discovered, countries would go to war over to possess.

Not about to let any government or corporation get their hands on it, Ron embarks on a journey to seek out others willing to share in his vision for a different future.

A daring and dangerous plan is put into motion that will encompass the entire planet. No political or geographic boundaries will stand in the way of success. The stakes could not be higher as the foundation is laid for the restructuring of wealth and power as we have always known it to be.

The time has come for a change...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Oct 29, 2020
• ISBN: 9780228836926

Book preview

Project Gold Tooth

Copyright © 2020 by L. L. Cronin

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Tellwell Talent

www.tellwell.ca

ISBN

978-0-2288-3691-9 (Paperback)

978-0-2288-3692-6 (eBook)

Dedication

I would like to dedicate this book to R.J. (Tonto) Belong. We became best friends when we first met back in 1979. For thirty-eight years, until his untimely death on December 15th, 2017, we shared a bond no words could ever describe. He was my brother, my brother-in-law, my soul mate, and confidant. He will always and forever be my guiding hand. Randy, till we meet again...

Preface

In the fall of 2007, I found myself sitting alone in my basement suite in Richmond, BC. It was about 7 p.m. or so on a Saturday night with nothing to do, and the usual collection of stuff on TV held no promise.

After staring at my desktop computer for a few minutes, I wondered whether I could write. So, I plugged my headphones into the stereo, fired up Open Office, and started typing with no sense of direction or idea. Before I knew it, I was startled to see daylight creeping through the window the following morning.

Looking down at the bottom of the screen, I realized I had written seventeen pages of a story that didn’t exist the night before. After reading through it, I was at a loss to explain where it came from. Something deep inside me had changed that night.

From that point forward, the story came at me like a tsunami. It was all I could do to keep up with it! Idea after idea came pouring in. However, I wasn’t writing a book; I was jotting the ideas down to remember them. A few months and several hundred pages later, I began to understand what it was all about.

Back then, I drove a cement mixer, so my time to write was limited to evenings and weekends, but all I wanted to do was write. Unfortunately, taking a laptop to work was not an option, so a friend suggested I try using a PalmPilot.

At first, it was not looking too good, as the keyboard was too small to use. Then I discovered it had an on-screen keyboard I could type on using a stylus. That changed everything!

Every minute I had waiting to load, or unload was spent on the PalmPilot. At night, I would plug it into my desktop and transfer what I had written.

It didn’t take long to wear the PalmPilot out completely. So, I got another one and wore it out too. It took some research, as they became discontinued, but I found a third one for sale in Kelowna and eventually killed that one as well. I still have all three of them, but I doubt they could be resurrected.

To date, I have completed four manuscripts. Three and a half of which were mostly written on these wonderful devices. I wish I had stocks in PalmPilot!

Acknowledgments

I would like to take this opportunity to thank those who have been there for me throughout the thirteen years it has taken me to see this to completion.

My wife NataLee, for her limitless patience, love, and understanding. Thank you for being my endless source of strength and my spiritual compass.

My daughter Lisa, the first set of eyes to see those first seventeen pages. Thank you for your clever ideas and unique humour that added so much to the story, and for all your continued support throughout the publishing process.

My daughter Teryn, for being daddy’s cheerleader and a constant supply of new ways to look at things.

My stepson Nicholas, and his company Tensioncore, for all his technical and artistic contributions.

Rick and Elly Swidrowich, for the critiques I so desperately needed to keep this story on track as it developed.

Yvon Robichaud, a true friend and invaluable sounding board for my thoughts.

Jeff Kisilowsky, for always having my back and giving me the reassurance and feedback that I needed.

J. Y. Martin, for the equipment to write this book, the story ideas, and endless banter about PGT. This book would not have been possible without you. I appreciate your support during this project and beyond.

I would also like to thank all my beta readers who provided insight and ideas along the way. I can’t remember all your names, but you know who you are.

Prologue

July 1999 - Northern Ontario

Random spears of sunshine broke through the leafy canopy overhead, creating vivid contrasts in shades and shadows of green as Ron McKinley eased his pickup down an old dirt road only barely discernible from the encroaching bush. A predawn rainstorm had ensured that plenty of wet foliage was available to assault the truck’s windshield and obscure the hidden minefield of water-filled potholes along the way. Ron decided it was time to take a break and chose the next sunny patch on the hillside path to stop for a stretch and clear the glass.

He shut off the engine and got out, eager to shake off four butt-numbing hours behind the wheel. As he stretched his arms to the sky and deeply inhaled the fragrant pine air, he slowly turned around and remembered back to his twelfth year when he had received an invitation from a friend to go camping for the weekend at his dad’s gold mine secreted away in the hills. His best friend Kyle couldn’t say enough about how cool the place was and how much fun they would have exploring the excavation into the mountain and surrounding forest and river basin.

Ron smiled as he recalled the thirty-year-old memory of being excited and telling Kyle he would ask his parents and let him know the next day.

He stepped away from the truck and paced ahead for a short distance to see what lay around the bend. Much to his delight, he at once recognized the outcropping of granite that seemed to defy gravity as it hung over the road fifteen feet above his head.

He laughed out loud as he remembered Kyle naming the granite anomaly Doomsday Boulder and warning him that if it came down while they were encamped, they would have to spend the rest of their lives living off the land at the mine.

With that geographical revelation, Ron now knew exactly where he was and that once he descended to the valley floor, he would be within a few kilometres of his destination.

Ron returned to the truck and cleared the windshield of wet leaves before entering.

Putting the truck in gear and moving out, he recalled another phone call to Kyle he had made last week. They had stayed in touch over the years, but it was a distant friendship as Kyle’s job meant a move to British Columbia many years ago.

Hey, Kyle! It’s Ron. How you doing, buddy?

Ron! Hey yourself! What have you been up to?

Not much, I stepped down from running the lab at the university, thought it was high time for a break.

Wow, no kidding? I know that place was your second home. So, what’s next, time to put all those degrees to work?

Maybe, but first, some time off. Actually, that’s why I’m calling. I’d like to get out of the city for a few days. Get some fresh air and relax. I was trying to think of somewhere to go when I remembered our trip to your dad’s gold mine. Does he still have it?

The old mine? Oh, yeah, it’s still in the family. Dad hasn’t been there in years now. His back is giving him problems, and it would be too much for him. My brother Roger moved to the Yukon, so he doesn’t care much about it either. Are you thinking about heading up there?

Yeah, what the hell? It’s a good place to relax, and I think it would be cool to see it again after thirty years. Maybe take some pictures.

Wow, it has been thirty years, hasn’t it? I only went up there once more after our trip together. Started getting interested in girls right about then.

Ron and Kyle shared a deep laugh over the phone before Kyle continued, Sure, Ron, what the hell? Do you remember how to get there?

Kind of. I would appreciate any hints you could offer.

Tell you what. I’ll call Dad and get the exact location. Do you have a GPS?

Yes, if you can give me the coordinates, I’m sure I can find it.

Sure thing! I’ll call you back tonight with it. I wish I could get away for a few days, I’d go with you. But work is unforgiving, and duty calls.

Yeah, that would be cool! Too bad, you can’t make it. Maybe we can plan a trip together sometime soon?

I would like that, Ron. Anyway, I must get going. I’ll call you back this evening.

OK, Kyle, thanks. Talk to you later.

A sudden deep pothole jarred the truck, dissipating the memory and causing the aluminum cases in the bed to move around, leaving Ron wishing he could have told Kyle the real reason for this trip.

When he reached the end of the track, Ron turned the truck around, then stopped near the river. The first thing he noticed was an old wheelbarrow, upside down and rusted entirely through. Memories of tin cans being shot off it with a BB gun came flooding back—his only experience to date with shooting any form of weapon. He walked up to it and moving the tall grass around with his boot, he spied the remains of a few of those very cans.

Ron returned to the truck to get the GPS then started following the river upstream to where he knew the mine’s entrance was hidden. A short hike later, he found the breach in the hillside, still protected by heavy timbers framed in to ward off falling rocks from above.

Ron took a few tentative steps into the mine, then stopped as an imperceptible wisp of air delivered a subtle feeling of foreboding. Never bothered by claustrophobia in the past, he was now at a loss to explain his sense of unease. After a quick mental debate, he decided against going into the mine any further and stepped back into the sunlight.

Turning his attention to the GPS, he set a waypoint to mark the exact location of the mine’s entrance, then began to retrace his steps back to his truck. Once there, Ron took out a topographical map of the area and the back-road atlas he brought along.

He spread the map out on the hood and weighted it down with the atlas and began to look out to the surrounding mountains to ascertain his next move. The next order of business was to get as far away from the mine as line-of-sight would allow.

Off to the southwest, he saw what he was looking for—a peak with plenty of elevation and distance with a clean view.

Ron located the peak on the map and circled it with a pen before referencing the atlas to figure out the web of logging roads needed to get up there. Once he jotted the directions down, he gathered together the map and atlas.

He paused to consider the connection formed thirty years ago when he was here for a fun adventure, not caring in the least about the gold that the ground contained, and now, how important the knowledge of its very existence was to him, and someday, hopefully to the world.

Who knew? he said out loud with a shake of his head before getting back in the truck.

Nearly an hour later, Ron reached the mountainside vantage point he had selected, positioning the truck to face away from the valley before parking.

Using powerful binoculars, he stood near the edge and scanned the valley below. After locating the Doomsday Boulder, Ron shifted his view further up the valley to where he knew the mine was located, easily seeing the cut of the river.

Next, he set the GPS to point the way to the mine entrance, confirming the line-of-sight distance as just under seventy-three hundred metres and showing a compass arrow pointing in the same direction Ron had confirmed.

After he dropped the tailgate, he began opening the cases in order. First, he placed the main processor in the center of the truck’s bed, then arranged the cryogenic tank to the right and the laptop to the left and linked them by a fibre-optic cable. He then placed a small laser printer at the back and connected it to the laptop. Next, he set up a five-foot photographer’s tripod, keeping it close to the tailgate.

The final case contained the transducer. Ron gently lifted it from its protective foam cocoon and secured it to the tripod. A small spotting scope affixed to one side was used to point the device accurately up the valley at the claim. After he attached its power cable to the truck’s inverter and the fibre-optic data cable to the central processor, everything was set to go.

It all came down to what happened next. Ron took a moment to recall the hurdles that had presented themselves along the way, the countless failures and unanticipated setbacks that had dogged his every step, each being systematically and painstakingly dealt with one at a time.

Glancing at the equipment he had designed and built in complete secrecy, he took a deep breath, then toggled the master power on the processor.

Next to him, the transducer that projected the energy beam and retrieved the data as it bounced back from the target began to gently sweep back and forth.

Ron slowly released his held breath as he witnessed the first data stream begin to decode and display upon the laptop screen, the graphic depicting the telltale markings of gold as it lay several metres beneath the surface.

As the graphic moved upward, superimposed scales along the left side gave reference to the depth at which the gold resided and the overall depth the beam was reaching. Ron focused on this information as he turned up the gain to see how deep the beam would penetrate the earth—the results of which were the primary objective of today’s test.

Keeping an eye on the scale, his right hand slowly turned the gain dial clockwise. The depth readings increased with each pass of the transducer, now showing more gold down nearly 200 metres, far below the excavation of the mine. Noting he was only at a quarter of his available power, he continued to increase the gain by one click increments. His ears registered a slight increase in hum from the processor with each adjustment.

By the time he reached fifty percent, the beam was sending its signal 550 metres into the ground, the layer of gold-bearing rock now getting thinner the deeper he probed. The telltale signs of gold were now beginning to decrease dramatically, and he hoped there would still be gold present once he reached the highest setting to assess the beam’s performance accurately. However, a moment later, the signal dropped off to nothing, the final sign of gold registering at 620 metres.

Ron noted he still had over a quarter of available power to go, so he continued adding power until the maximum setting was reached, the beam now confirming a depth of 1.3 kilometres.

Pent-up tension began to ease as he stepped back and watched the transducer continue its arc. His mind was already working on the dynamics of ramping up the power to the point of possibly diminished returns to see just how much further the beam would penetrate the ground.

Tasking the printer, he committed the data retrieved to paper. He hoped to someday present the data to Kyle’s family if secrecy concerns allowed.

With the test completed, Ron powered down the system. Sipping water from a bottle, he perused the printed pages. As he studied them, he felt confident that once he completed the extensive programming to fully evaluate the data, he would know exactly how much gold was present, right down to the gram.

As the sun began to wane beyond the peaks to the west, he re-packed the equipment and stowed it in his pick-up. He then took a moment to stand close to the ledge and gaze down the valley and across to the other side.

Four years of hard work had finally come to fruition. However, one question continued to haunt his thoughts. What to do with it now?

Ron held PhDs in chemistry, physics, and advanced computer sciences. At forty-two years of age, he was a born academic. Knowledge and exploration were his only motivations. Never once did he allow monetary gain to invade his thoughts. He knew he could easily parlay what he had invented for millions to the right person, corporation or government, but that went against everything he believed in.

Ron was also keenly aware of the dangers of pursuing a patent, knowing that both Canadian and U.S. patent offices were obligated to inform their respective governments anytime something of this magnitude was presented for consideration. A few quickly printed pages from a law office would see the device absorbed under the guise of Eminent Domain or some other quasi-bullshit agenda. Not a chance, he thought. There had to be a better way.

He hoped to put it to use to better the lives of those who needed it most. But how to do that was completely lost on him.

He sadly realized he had gone as far as he could possibly go with it. The time had come to seek outside help.

Chapter One

Two months later, having accepted an invitation to attend some workshops on quantum computing to keep current with the ever-changing world of computer programming, Ron was back at MIT. His doctorate in the field had been obtained here, after three hard years of studies in his late thirties.

One evening, while unwinding with a few beers and shooting pool at a quiet tavern with his roommate Gerry Mason, Ron decided to take the next step.

He and Gerry, who was pursuing geological technologies to further his interest in that field, had become close friends in their short time together. There was an easy chemistry between them, and they often acted as sounding boards for each other’s thoughts. Ron felt he could trust Gerry with what was on his mind.

Hey, Ger., I need to bounce something off you.

Gerry met his gaze and replied, Sure, Ron, what’s up?

Ron looked around the tavern, making sure they had enough privacy before speaking. For the last four years, I have been privately developing a new technology. It started off as a project at the lab but was de-funded in lieu of other priorities. However, I kept at it on the side ever since because I was sure I could make it work and I don’t like leaving things unfinished. It took a few years, but I did it. I’ve taken it as far as I can, and I need some advice on where next to go with it.

Gerry moved his chair a bit closer, OK, Ron, I’m all ears.

Ron took a deep breath, then began to lay it out for Gerry. What would you say if I were to tell you I could pinpoint the exact location of every speck of gold on the planet?

Gerry cocked his head to one side, grinning as he replied. I would say you were smoking too much weed and watching too much TV, why?

Ron’s smile faded as he nodded, Well, that’s what I have, pal, believe it or not.

Gerry quickly realized Ron wasn’t kidding, You’re serious, Ron?

Yes, I am. I’ve invented a device capable of detecting gold anywhere it can hide. It can be deep underground or water, anywhere at all.

Gerry sat back, shaking his head. He was aware of Ron’s academic background and was now very interested in what Ron had to share. How did you do it?

My lab was looking into different ways to focus an electromagnetic beam without increasing feedback to the electron gun. Unfortunately, the mandate changed before it reached any promising results, and the project was dropped. However, I was interested in continuing, so I started messing around with it on my own. The feedback issues we had experienced continued, and I encountered one problem after another trying to figure it out. A few months later, I hit pay dirt when I developed a variation of a wave tube amplifier that would work with the EM beam, externally magnifying the beam’s power by a factor of ten. So, now, I had a quantum interference device capable of incredible ground penetration. I built a hyper-sensitive phase discriminator, and it was during that calibration process that I learned to differentiate between ferrous and non-ferrous metals. I had dozens of ore samples to play with as this unfolded, so I mapped the anomalies of all those. Then one day, when I was washing my hands, my wedding ring caught my eye. I took it off and shot the beam at it. After that, I tried it on various karat weights, and once I averaged it all out, I had the key to locating gold anywhere. From that point forward, I remained focused on gold, and any further refinements were to that end alone.

Gerry’s eyes remained fixed on Ron, trying to absorb what was being revealed.

After that, I started working on building a self-contained unit to house the components. The processor makes use of Niobium superconductors that need to be cooled by liquid helium, so I had to contract out for the cryogenic vessel for that part. I fabricated the rest myself. Once that was accomplished, it was time to write a software program to control it and make sense of the data. I’m still working on that. All in all, it’s been four years of effort to put it all together.

Gerry was comfortable around computers, so he could appreciate what Ron had gone through to make it all work.

What’s the effective range?

Theoretically, there’s no limit on the effective range. My last field test proved I can reach over a kilometre into the ground from over seven kilometres away.

Gerry was stunned, to say the least. The ramifications of what was possible with this device were downright staggering.

That’s unbelievable, Ron! Do you have any idea what the hell you have there?

Yes, I do, Ron replied with a grimace. What I don’t know is what to do with it. I’m not about to let any government get their hands on it. I can’t even patent it for the same reason.

Gerry nodded in understanding. That’s for sure, pal. They would take that away from you in an instant.

Imagine the potential, Gerry. No naturally occurring deposits or remnants from ancient impacts of precious metals laden meteorites, buried treasures, or vaulted reserves can hide from it. I haven’t found anything that will even slow it down!

So, what’s your plan for it? What comes next?

To be honest, Gerry, I would like to see it used to help mankind, particularly those who have nothing. Any government or exploration corporation would exploit this for their own greed. They have all the money and power already. It’s the little guy that I want this to go to, but how?

Gerry sat back and sipped his beer, thinking about the question posed. Ron, you’ve heard me talk about my father Arthur and his best friend, James Perry?

Yes, you’ve mentioned them several times. But your dad is an army veteran, and a general to boot! I don’t want the military anywhere near this, Gerry!

Don’t worry, Ron, he’s long since retired and doesn’t have anything to do with the military anymore. James is a billionaire mining magnate and the most down to earth person I’ve ever known. James is the reason I’m here today. He has mines all over the world, so I became a geologist, to help him make decisions on existing and future investments.

So, you and James are pretty close?

Yes, we are. I love him as much as my own father. Dad was overseas when I was born, and my mom died giving birth to me. But James was there that day and has been in my life ever since.

I’m so sorry about your mom, Gerry.

Thanks, Ron. Anyway, James lost his wife to cancer and his only son in Vietnam shortly after that, so all this family tragedy has served to make the three of us very close.

Ron nodded in understanding. I can appreciate the bond you all must share.

Add to the fact that James gifted my dad and me with stocks in Perry Mining, ensuring we would never be wanting for anything. So, I decided early on that I would strive to make him proud and getting involved with his mining business seemed to be the best way to go about it.

Ron felt even closer to Gerry now, and any last reservations quickly dissipated.

The way I see it, Ron, James is the perfect person to take this to. Your invention and his expertise are along the same lines. Let’s run it past him and see what he thinks. If anybody can make sense of what you have and what you want to do with it, he can. Tell you what, why don’t you come back to Maryland with me this weekend and meet them. I have a suite in James’s mansion with lots of room, so you can bunk with me.

Ron sat back, contemplating Gerry’s suggestion. OK, let’s give it a try. I don’t have anywhere else to turn, so maybe that’s a place to start.

Gerry signalled the waitress for another round, then asked, Can you put together some kind of presentation to explain it to them?

I can do better than that. I can bring along the gear and demonstrate it to them. By the way, does James have any gold mines?

Gerry shook his head, No, he doesn’t. He’s into copper, silver, coal, gypsum, and iron ore mostly. His dad held lots of patents in the mining industry. He also owns an air charter company with four Gulfstream-4s that he usually has leased out to the State Department.

They finished their pints as the server approached, both waiting for her to depart before continuing.

Ron gave Gerry a grateful smile, Thanks, Ger., I appreciate your help with this.

Gerry lifted his mug to Ron, saying as they touched, You’re very welcome, Ron. I really hope we can make this work for you.

* * *

Ron made the trip home to Toronto to load up the equipment, then picked up Gerry on the way back the following day, with Gerry then guiding him home toward Maryland.

As they pulled onto the grounds of the Perry estate several hours later, Ron commented, Look at this place! It’s magnificent!

It actually sits right over an old silver mine James’s granddad staked out and worked back in the late eighteen-hundreds. I’ve been living here since junior high. Dad wanted me to finish school here instead of following him to army bases all around the world.

Ron drove under the ornate portico, parking off to one side. As they exited the vehicle, the butler opened the front door, Good day, Master Gerry. I’ll look after your bags for you.

Thank you, Albert. This is Ron McKinley. He’ll be staying with me for the weekend.

Good day to you, Mr. McKinley. Welcome, Albert offered as he took charge of the bags.

James and Arthur await you in the library. Dinner will be served at seven, as usual.

Thanks, Albert, appreciate that.

Albert gave a slight bow and waited for the two to enter the foyer before following.

The library is down here, Gerry said as he led the way down the marble-floored hallway.

Opening one of two tall burl walnut doors, Gerry gestured Ron to precede him into the library.

James, casually dressed in jeans and a cardigan and sitting by the crackling fireplace, arose as Arthur stood up from his armchair, attired in khaki slacks and golf shirt.

Albert entered the library and closed the doors as Gerry began the introductions.

Dad, James, this is Dr. Ron McKinley. Ron, this is my father, Arthur Mason and James Perry of Perry Mining International.

The men all met in the middle of the room and shook hands, James then indicating an armchair for Ron to use.

Welcome to Maryland, Ron. What can Albert get you to drink?

Thank you, James. A beer would be fine.

Make it two, Albert, Gerry added.

Albert served the drinks, then departed the room.

So, Ron, James began, Gerry told us you have an incredibly unique quandary that needs addressing. Why don’t you start at the beginning and explain what it is you need?

Ron appreciated James’s direct and to the point attitude. Thank you, James. I do have a rather unique situation on my hands. Gerry assures me I can confide in you completely and may count on your discretion with this information?

With a dismissive wave of the hand, James replied, Of course, Ron, nothing said here will leave this room. You have my word.

Ron nodded, then glanced in Arthur’s direction.

Absolutely, Ron, please continue.

Very well, James, Arthur. Thank you. OK, here it is. I have spent the last four years secretly developing an energy beam that can be channelled, tuned, transmitted over great distances and retrieved. By tuning, I mean that I believe it can be calibrated to locate any metal, both ferrous and non-ferrous, as well as some specific minerals.

Believe? Arthur asked.

Yes, in theory, I believe it could be tuned to detect any of those materials. However, I have it set up to detect gold, in any form or purity, anywhere on the planet.

James and Arthur exchanged surprised expressions as Ron added, I’ve lab and field-tested it with astonishing accuracy.

On what principals does this work? James inquired.

Ron spent the next half hour reliving his experiences, both good and bad, developing the device. He detailed all the components and how they affected each other to produce the energy, concluding with a description of the testing parameters and results to date.

May we see these test results? James inquired.

Certainly, James, I have them right here in my briefcase. I’d like to go one better and give you an actual demonstration of the device in action, if I may?

Ron brought the equipment with him; it’s outside in his truck, Gerry offered.

Oh? All right then, James stated, smiling. This should be interesting. What do you need to get set up?

I have everything I need in the truck. How big is your estate, James?

We’re sitting on two hundred and eighty acres, Ron, most of it heavily treed.

I’ll need a gold target to locate, perhaps a personal item of yours, James. Can you arrange to have it placed as far away as possible, preferably with terrain and or man-made obstructions in the way?

Very well, Ron. Gerry, please show Ron the way to the east gate and set up next to the skeet range. Meanwhile, I’ll find a target for your demonstration.

Sure, James, Gerry readily replied.

After Gerry and Ron left the library, James summoned Albert via intercom. He then removed a teak box from the desk drawer, opened it and upon Albert’s arrival, requested, Albert, would you please take this gold pen and pencil set down to the stream and hide it under the foot-bridge on one of the logs? The grounds truck is parked behind the maintenance shed. The keys should be in it.

As you wish, Albert replied as he accepted and closed the case.

Once alone with Arthur, James commented, That old foot-bridge is a good forty feet or so below grade from here and at least five hundred yards away. That should make things interesting. What do you think, Art?

I don’t know what to think, James! If this toy of Ron’s works, the possibilities are mind-blowing! Do you believe him?

James studied his life-long friend’s eyes for a moment before replying, I always trust my gut, and it’s telling me he’s on the up and up. Anyway, we’re about to find out. Let’s head out to the skeet range and see for ourselves.

James and Arthur left the library and exited the mansion by the pool. By the time they met up with Gerry and Ron, Gerry was setting up the tripod, as Ron opened the aluminum cases on the tailgate.

What’s this gizmo? James asked of Ron, pointing at the cryogenic unit. It looks like a pressure cooker on steroids.

That’s the cryogenic tank for the liquid helium. Superconductors are happiest when it’s very cold.

Ron held up a metallic cylindrical device with an eighteen-inch polymer tube protruding from one end and several baffled chambers visible within it.

This is the transducer that projects and retrieves the energy beam, Ron explained as he affixed the unit to the tripod.

What does the beam look like? James probed.

This form of energy is invisible to the human eye. It would only be detectable to equipment calibrated to the exact frequency it operates at. And as far as I know, no other applications utilize frequencies this low.

Ron finished arranging the gear on the tailgate and wiring everything together as Albert returned from his task.

Very well, Ron, James stated, I had Albert stash a valuable and dear item my grandfather left to me. Please show me you can find it.

With a nod, Ron started his truck to allow the maximum power from his inverter. Returning to the tailgate, he booted his laptop and powered up the gear.

Not asking for any hints, but to save time, can I assume the target is in the general direction Albert just returned from?

You may, James replied.

OK, here we go, Ron announced as he activated the transducer.

As the men watched, the transducer began to sweep back and forth. Ron explained, The beam oscillates out in an adjustable fan pattern, depending on how the diffuser is set here, pointing at the end of the polymer barrel. Right now, it’s oriented vertically at thirty degrees.

The laptop beeped, Ron then pointed to the screen and said, This is how the data decodes. When it finds…make that found, this is showing two targets now.

Impressive, Ron. There are two items together. James stated.

Ron shook his head. "By that, I meant there are two separate targets. This return shows two very thin items right beside each other, but this other one is