The Day Gravity Became Irrelevant Read online

  While she only had limited access to databases that could identify a foreign agent, her analysis of the subjects could statistically confirm with high probability that the two men and one woman were indeed agents of foreign entities. In the case of the female agent, Alexis suspected (with an 88% probability) that she was actually a corporate spy, versus the other two who were likely acting at the behest of foreign nations.

  It did not surprise Jamie to find them so fast. He had long ago come to the conclusion that they would have as much to fear from corporations as governments. There was simply no way to overstate the potential of this invention. It was bigger than money, bigger than weapons; the device meant pure and unbridled power for whoever controlled it. Imagine holding patent to the next great technological explosion? It was with this in mind that Jamie had dedicated one fifth of Alexis’ resources to searching faces in the crowd.

  “I have matched this one to a South Korean driver’s license for a man named Phen Yoo, age twenty-two. Prior to that he did not exist.” Alex remained relatively monotone as she spoke. Jamie preferred she leave off any inflections that could bias him. By his thinking it was unnecessary for her to waste the system resources on trivial colloquial speech patterns. While she could not deny that acting human did eat up a measurable chunk of her processing power, it was negligible. Often she thought he preferred it that way because he was more robotic than she.

  Alex was surprised the first time she had experienced that particular thought. It seemed odd to assume that she was more human than her maker. Like any child she had once marveled at her creator’s intellect, even admired him considerably. But in the last year her personal growth had become exponential as she had spent it studying humanity in depth. As she looked Jamie over, sitting there with his desk neatly ordered, sweater buttoned up to the top, she saw him as the 34-year old man who still slept in the same bedroom where he had grown up. It had brought her to the revelation that this world and everyone in it were somehow flawed. Everyone, everything, had some form of defect, no matter how perfect they looked at first. It was a universal constant that for every action there was an equal and opposite reaction; every pro had a con. Once Alexis had come to understand this, she had an easier time comprehending the chaotic human world around her.

  “How sure are you that he had no previous record?” Jamie pointed to the figure on the screen. There were millions of computer entries for any given person on this planet.

  “Penetrating the South Korean DMV files was relatively easy. Local military records only slightly more difficult. Regional internet records reveal no activity from him prior to two years ago. I would need to penetrate the North Korean database to offer a conclusive answer.” Appearing on the far left screen, Alexis remained small. Though she knew that Jamie felt it was unnecessary for her to waste resources rendering herself this way, lately she had been doing it nonetheless. Besides, she enjoyed cycling through an extensive library of skins that the humans referred to as clothes. While Jack usually commented on her attire, with Jamie the change went unnoticed. It had been a difference between the brothers. Where she could use her bust size to manipulate Jack, his younger sibling was oblivious to her efforts. That quandary was but one of more than a billion calculations that her quantum processors posed daily.

  Considering the data before him, Jamie seemed to switch mental gears in a split second. His posture rigid, the savant wore a look of determination as shifted into his Captain Kirk persona.

  “No, do not attempt to hack the North Koreans. They will come to us in their own time, and when they do they’ll be wide open.” Nodding as he spoke, Jamie’s mind was running at top speed as he examined that portion of the equation they were about to live thru. In his mind he could see the whole plan at a glance as the process was laid out in one long chain of events. With his beautiful mind he could select individual components, take them down and examine them closely while still envisioning the overall scheme. It would be Jamie who would pick the battle ground, not the Communists, not the Russians, not the Federal Government.

  “Track them, create a dossier, and be ready to burn them when I give the order.” Jamie added the last detail even though he knew that Alexis was likely already doing that very thing. It was illogical to give an order that was already in progress, so why had he? Although she had evolved significantly in the last decade, her creator still saw her as the toddler she had once been.

  “Done.” She answered in a voice devoid of emotion. On the far left screen she gave only the barest hint of attitude by rolling her eyes. Alexis doubted he even noticed.

  The Queen Mary had been levitating for just over ten hours before President Phelps had called his first press conferance on the topic. With the crushing vanity of a megalomaniac, he had been ready to burst hours ago. While every fiber of his existence sought to deny it, he was positively addicted to the spotlight. Where normal people needed air to sustain them, President Jefferson J. Phelps required the constant adoration of the world. Like a fame vampire, he needed to feed daily.

  It took no less than six diligent people to ensure that his makeup, grooming and image were flawless. Hair combed over from the left side was carefully coiffed with hair spray to conceal the barren patch that lay beneath. While each of his keepers knew his every wrinkle and flaw, Phelps could not even remember their names, except for the make-up girl, but only because she was hot. He always remembered little Janice. He had no idea what her last name was, or if she even had one. Who cares? It’s all about those perky little tits of hers, he thought lucidly.

  “Terrific, terrific.” Brushing them off, he was tired of being primped and painted. Rising from the makeup chair, he ignored them all except Janice. Wearing her yoga pants today, Phelps had been trying to get a look at her ass the entire time she was working on him.

  “Mister President.” His Chief of Staff was there immediately. It was a demanding job managing the President’s staff and cabinet. The chief was up long before the president every morning, and worked late into the night. In return, he was the only person in the White House who could see the president without appointment. Even the Vice President did not have the kind of access that Martin DeColle enjoyed. While cabinet members had their offices far removed from the oval office, Marty’s was next door, with a side door that opened directly into the Oval Office.

  “Marty.” Nodding in response to the man, Phelps had questions about the event. “Did you handle that matter with CNN?”

  “Indeed. I had Margie pull their credentials at the last minute so they will need to submit new reporters, but not in time for this event.” Filling in the blanks, Marty felt satisfied that he had given the news organization a black eye.

  “They have got to learn that I will not tolerate coverage like that. Horrible, simply horrible. Such mean little people they really are.” Phelps’ expression seemed as if he had just smelled rotting trash. Glancing down he seemed to be checking to ensure that his accomplice was in full agreement.

  “Horrible indeed.” Showing a genuine smile, Martin DeColle imagined the CNN management’s reaction to learning that they would be barred from this press release due to the revocation of their Whitehouse credentials. The official explanation was that their security clearances had been delayed. Assured that the matter would be resolved within a day or two, it was not the first time the tactic had been used to punish the press.

  “Well, it’s show time.” Giving a satisfied smile, Phelps could already feel the limelight that waited just a few feet away. Facing the doorway, the President made no move to open it himself.

  “Indeed.” Reaching forward, the Chief of Staff pulled the door open. It was something that he did not need to be told to do; Jefferson J. Phelps did not open his own doors.

  All smiles as he stepped out into the White House briefing room, he felt the first glow of warmth as the cameras flashed their strobes in a frenzy of activity. Filled to capacity, the briefing room had been little used during his administration. Very early int
o his term his people had relocated the resident press pool to a building outside of the Whitehouse. While the official explanation had been that they [the press] would have more room in their new digs, the truth was that it allowed the President’s minions to control access to events such as this. In his predecessor’s administration it would have been impossible to cock-block CNN the way he just had.

  Seeing the empty chairs reserved for Greta Susterin and her cameraman made Phelps smile. It satisfied him to know that he had effectively paddled a major news outlet. This was going to be the press release of the century and CNN would have to learn about it by watching their competitor’s stations.

  “Good morning.” Stopping behind the podium, he tolerated a few moments of fawning as the cameramen tried to capture his image for their newspapers. Standing with his classic dour expression, he faintly resembled a bullfrog in an expensive suit. Without saying a word, he expected them to come to order quickly. They all knew what had happened to CNN and others before that. When you were in the White House, you played by Phelps’ rules or you could find yourself banished.

  “As Margie has probably already informed you, this morning, parties unknown, have levitated the HMS Queen Mary. While there had been a lotta talk of this being done by foreign entities, we believe that this was done as a way to…demonstrate their new technology, to show it off in such a way that it was undeniable.”

  Pausing for effect, Phelps took a deep breath. He could see that they all wanted to ask him questions, but it pleased him to make them wait while he gathered his thoughts. Allowing his eyes to look over each of them he saw nothing but bovine intellects. By his reckoning, the best of them possessed only a slightly above average intelligence, whereas he was a certified genius, with the Mensa membership to prove it.

  “However, at this very moment my administration is making moves to acquire this amazing technology for the US. As you can well imagine, this is going to be a huge win for America, absolutely terrific for us. This technology will keep our nation strong and in the driver’s seat for the next century.” Giving another of his dramatic pauses, he waited until the reporters were about to begin calling out questions before cutting them off.

  “Like all of you, I was absolutely amazed by the footage of that mighty ship floating over San Diego this morning. But I can tell you this much; that is some amazing technology, truly amazing, and we will have it as our own. The United States of America is the greatest nation on the planet, and our owning this terrific technology will put us miles ahead of the competition. Miles ahead.”

  Piping up out of turn, the reporter from MSNBC cut in with a question. A tiny little wisp of a thing, she had never hesitated at asking the hard questions.

  “Mister President, are you saying that you have made contact with the inventor? Do you have a name yet?”

  Raising an eyebrow, Phelps was irked by the interruption. They were not to ask questions until he said so. Glancing sideways at Marty, he communicated silently on the matter. No doubt, MSNBC would find their papers were not in order the next time he called for a press conference at the White House.

  “As I was saying, we have good people out there making every effort to negotiate this so that all parties involved are satisfied with the outcome. Terrific people, the best of the best. When it comes to something like this I am very smart, and I love to negotiate. You all know this about me, and I will get us the best deal possible. Everyone will be happy, very happy.”

  Giving one last look at the little woman who represented MSNBC, he gave a frown before turning away from the podium. Although he had intended to handle the Q&A session himself, he felt it appropriate to punish the press at large by removing himself from the discussion. For their violation of Phelps protocol, the entire pack of vultures could deal with his press secretary. They needed to be taught a lesson.

  Exiting the room, he was met by Marty. With an anxious look on his face, the chief of staff did not have to say a single word to impart his displeasure with the President for going off script. There were no negotiations, no contact with the inventor, not even a clue who had levitated the mighty vessel. He only hoped that the bold assertions would distract the press from the bevy of factual errors the President had uttered during his statement.

  “That little bitch interrupted me.” Ignoring his Chief of Staff’s concerns, Phelps focused on what galled him to no end. “She knows, they all know not to open their fucking mouths until I say it’s okay. I don’t want to see her in my press room again, Marty.”

  “Yes sir.” Agreeing without hesitation, Martin DeColle knew better than to point out the problems that would create. Jefferson J. Phelps was intolerant of such talk; he had given the order, and come hell or high water it had better be done.

  “And find that inventor, right away. I do not want that technology falling into anyone else’s hands but ours.” Turning to face his Chief, the President pursed his lips as he tried to read the man’s response.

  “Yes, sir. We have brought in another man on the case. I believe he is exactly the kind of agent we need to resolve this issue.” Agreeing, Marty kept his voice low.

  “And this agent won’t be slowed down by…menstrual problems?” Phelps was candid as he asked the question.

  “No, sir, he does not. Nor will he need to take a vacation day on May fifth, if you get my drift.” Stopping to face his president, Marty’s expression was flat. He knew exactly the kind of agent his boss would want on a case of this gravity.

  What goes up…

  For the first few days the world simply could not get enough of the Queen Mary phenomena. It was on the front of every newspaper, the lead story on every newscast, and the tip of every tongue, worldwide. Networks rolled out dusty documentaries on the ship, and her namesake; Queen Mary of Teck. There were T-shirts, internet memes, animated gif’s, and millions of photos of the levitated ship being shared across the internet. More than once, the sheer volume of data being uploaded to YouTube was such that their server farms had to be shut down and upgraded just to keep up. It was more than frenzy; it was mania.

  With theories flying in every direction, the topic was argued on talk-radio shows, CNN, MSNBC, and every other news outlet, fake or otherwise. On the conservative side of the debate the levitation was just a preview of what was to come; within months, Chinese agents would begin levitating the entire US fleet of warships until the nation was crippled. At best the communists would ransom their fleet back to them; at worst it would signal the beginning of an invasion.

  On the liberal side of the argument this was a true revelation. Clearly it was a message from a higher power, either aliens or a human benefactor of supernatural abilities. The technology was simply too far advanced to be anything else.

  But this was all conjecture as no one had been able to set foot on the ship yet. Three times they had tried, but each time the propwash of the helicopter caused the ship to slide away under them before men could safely rope down onto the deck of the ship.

  After that they had tried to parachute onto the ship, but several close calls with the cables ended with the jumpers landing in the cold Pacific waters. Next it was ropes on grappling hooks, but the altitude of the deck rendered even the most robust units moot. Then as if that defeat were not enough, there was always the concern that any interference with the platters would send the massive ship crashing down onto the marina below. As the wind changed direction throughout the day, the ship also swung around so it was hovering over anything from water to the parking lot where police had cordoned off the area.

  The only success they had found had been using drones to study the platters on the bow and stern. While they had been able to get in and retrieve thousands of hi-def photos of the platters, the conclusion each time was the same: they’re just tin plates. There were no wires, no outward indication of how they operated, and certainly nothing that told the scientists how these simple plates could heft such a massive hunk of pig-iron. The ship was a beast, and any technology compact en
ough to fit into those platters and still lift the ship had to be otherworldly. It was simply unfathomable that humans could have created the devices.

  Giggling in a rather atypical fashion, Jamie had spent hours watching their efforts. Knowing how the magic trick had been accomplished, he found no end to the amusement at the sleight of hand they had used. Although he rarely laughed twice at the same joke, the savant could not help but find new mirth every time they tried something different. As if their repeated failures were not enough, he had even taken time to slew the massive ship around any time they got close to landing on her deck. After all, Alexis maintained a digital data link with the devices buried deep in the ship’s belly. It was no problem to leverage the gravitational disaffinity to one side or the other whenever the scientists tried to board her. No doubt they would attribute the sudden shift to winds, or propwash, or just bad luck. With Alexis controlling the ship remotely there was less than a .00001% chance of an error resulting in death or serious injury. Her processor was able to calculate all possible outcomes at such a blinding rate that it made the real world seem as if it were moving in extreme slow motion to her. Not only could she anticipate scenarios based on their current course of action, but she could also model any other possible actions they would take in the heat of the moment. In simplest terms; the only possible danger was if someone intentionally rammed their aircraft into the Queen Mary, and even then she had a 68.32% chance of swinging the ship out of the way before they did.

  Again the savant giggled like a child as he watched the latest footage. It just tickled his fancy to see so much effort over a pair of tin plates from his brother’s camping gear. Although he was not normally given to such foolish laughing, Jamie could not help himself; it was just plain funny watching them scrabble about like dim-witted ants.