Cold Storage

Wild-2 Stardust labs, Johnson Space Center, Houston, Texas. Wednesday, October 21, 2015. 1020 hours:

Thirty year-old physicist Zack McFarland wore a white lab coat over Levis and a brown San Diego State Aztecs sweatshirt. He punched digits on a keypad and the door clicked open. He flipped the overhead fluorescents on.

Zack held degrees in Astronomy and subatomic particle physics from UCLA and Cal Tech. He scratched his sandy colored military style brush cut as he peered through the binocular lenses of a high-powered Zeiss microscope. One of the aerogel samples from NASA's Stardust mission to comet Wild-2 rested on its stage. "Huh? That's interesting." He brought up an image on his iPad, stared and then looked again in the microscope. "Damn," he muttered. "This can't be right."

He punched a saved number on his cell phone. "Hi Rachel, it's Zack. You got a minute? I'm looking at something really weird."

Twenty-eight year old astronomer Rachel Leah Meyer brushed dark shoulder-length hair from her softly angular Sabra features. She pushed the sleeves of her blue cardigan sweater up and took a seat opposite Zack at the double-headed scope. "Aerogel sample from the Stardust Wild-2 comet mission in 2006. Why are we looking at this, Zack?"

He handed over his iPad. "This image is from the same sample from back in '06 when it was still frozen."

"Manganese olivine, iron oxide, some organic bits. Some good tracks. I've seen this. The sample on the scope is not the same," Rachel noted.

"Check the sample ID numbers, Rachel."

She did, then once more. "This can't be right, Zack. There's a mix-up somewhere." A third check confirmed the first two.

McFarland tweaked up the 'scope's magnification. "See the little defects. That's where those mineral and organic particles were before."

"Let's get an EM, Zack. There must be some smaller residual particles."

The Hitachi 9500 300KV transmission electron microscope sat in its own cubicle in one corner of the lab. Zack placed the small rectangular aerogel cell in the vacuum chamber and began transferring digital images from its particle tracks to his iPad screen. "This is the Hitachi's highest magnification, Rachel."

She squinted. "I don't see anything molecular. No atomic structure at all."

"Me either." Zack moved to a desktop iMac, tapped keys and viewed columns of data. "This cell was thawed out on Tuesday January 21 of last year at 0943 hours and never refrozen."

Rachel sat, eyes closed in an attitude of concentration. She grabbed Zack's hand. "Do we have any aerogel samples still frozen and not committed to ongoing projects? Ones with Wild-2 particle tracks?"

Dr. McFarland gave her a grin and tapped more keys. "Enough for some new projects. Let's start one of our own."

Rachel gave him a vigorous nod. "Timed exposure after thawing."

0800 hours Thursday, October 22:

Rachel laid the aerogel segment in its secure cell. "0802 hours 22 October 2015. Quick thaw complete," she dictated to the sound-activated microphone.

"I've got the digital camera set up with the time lapse feature, Rachel," Dr. McFarland told her. "It'll record an image when any change occurs. He pressed a computer key. "Beginning now. This could take a while. Let's go get some coffee."

The first digital image appeared at 0847 hours. After three hours and 38 minutes all the organic and mineral components had vanished. Electron microscopy confirmed the results. Director Professor Emeritus A.J. Jennings reviewed their findings and ordered EM studies on all 2006 thawed aerogel cells. They showed identical findings.

Jennings, a 74 year-old six-foot two-inch tall black man pondered the data for only a few seconds. "Okay, Professors McFarland and Meyer, well done. Your new assignment will be to discover the cause of this anomaly. Use whatever resources we have here or any outside contacts you know of. Keep me posted. I want a written report on these findings on my desk by 0900 hours tomorrow morning, and daily from then on."

Zack and Rachel expelled anxious sighs. "We've done everything we can at this end, "Zack said. "I'll contact JPL and other NASA facilities."

Rachel said, "If it's no go, I have a friend who might have a contact."

1045 hours, Friday 23 October.

Zack shook his head in frustration. "No luck, Rachel. I gave Professor Jennings our report at nine. He barely glanced at it, frowned and asked for more results soon, said we're on the clock. I asked if he could give us some contacts.

"Initiative," He said. "Do whatever you have to do." So I tried NASA and asked about other facilities with Wild-2 material. None of them had any frozen aerogel samples left."

Rachel exhaled a soft sigh. "Damn."

Zack shook his head. "I'm out of ideas, love. You?"

"I have a friend who took a Fellowship with Professor Beatrice Talbert at NASA in Cape Canaveral," Rachel said.

"Talbert? Sounds familiar."

"One of the top experts in subatomic particle physics. I hear she's doing some work that could yield a Nobel Prize."

"How do you know her?" Zack asked.

"I don't, but I have a friend who does."

"Anything is worth a try. Give her a ring."Rachel punched a saved number on her iPhone.

"Stanford Subatomic Physics Lab. Iverson here."

"Sara? It's me, Rachel."

"Hi, pal. How's Houston? How's your love life?"

Rachel smiled, blushed.

"Listen, I need a gigantic favor."

"Is it Zack? Nice guy. Good going, Rachel."

"I need Professor Talbert's phone number."

The silence was deafening.

"Sara?"

"This better be damn important, Rachel. That number is known to less than ten people."

Rachel explained.

"Oh wow. Professor Jennings was no help? I don't have a clue either. Okay, write this down. It's a secure number. Don't use a land line."

Rachel grabbed a pencil and jotted. "I owe you, Sara. Big time."

"It'll cost you a trip to Maui."

1130 hours:

"You have one second to provide some identification. GPS tracking has your location and FBI agents will arrive within ten minutes to arrest you," a soft contralto voice threatened.

"Rachel Leah Meyer, Professor Talbert. I ..."

A pause. Clicking of computer keys. "You're one of those JPL hotshots. My curiosity will gain you a full minute. Please tell me how you came by this number."

"I swapped Sara Iverson a vacation in Hawaii for it."

"Sara's one of mine. Wait one." More keys clicking. "Okay, I have called off the cops. Please explain."

Rachel did.

"And EM studies confirmed these findings?"

"Yes. At top magnification."

"Do you have a disc recording?" Beatrice asked.

"It confirms our findings. I need an answer."

"Very direct, you are. I like that. And please call me Bea."

"What's happened to the Stardust mission specimens, Bea? I'm at a loss."

A soft chuckle. "I might have your answer."

Silence.

"I know you're there, Rachel. Wild-2 is one of the oldest comets we know. Am I right?"

"Three point seven billion years."

"Did you know, Rachel, there are older bodies than comets in the universe?"

Sigh of frustration. "I do. The Kuiper Belt. Discovered in1992, it consists of a vast population of small bodies orbiting the Sun beyond the orbit of Neptune. What does this have to do with vanishing particulate material from a comet's tail?"

Another chuckle. "Persistence. An admirable quality, Rachel. Please bear with me. The Kuiper Belt is formed of extremely primitive remnants from the earliest phases of our Solar System. It may contain micrometeorites considerably older that the comets that form there. Perhaps as much as thirteen point seven billion years, even older. Ring any bells, Rachel?"

"Forgive my ignorance, Bea, but I'm not following."

"Does the name Persis Drell strike a chord with you? She used to head up the Linear Accelerator Center at Stanford University, someplace in California, I believe."

A pause. Dr. Talbert could hear keys tapping. "I have her. What does she have to do with ...?"

"She believes that there is another universe, different than ours."

"I don't understand."

"I'll explain more later. I'm putting you on hold. Don't go anywhere."

Twenty minutes later:

"My security people have checked your satellite link. We can converse safely."

"Please, Bea."

"There is a theoretical force that can cancel gravitational forces in amazing ways. It could overturn some of Einstein's theorems."

Sigh of doubt. "And this hypothetical particle helps me how?"

"I've been conducting some classified experiments up at the Delta Echo space station. You have shown up at an opportune time, Rachel."

Her voice quivered with excitement. "You can help?"

"Perhaps. What's your security clearance?"

"My associate, Professor Zack McFarland and I are Omega-5."

"McFarland. Yes, I know of your associate. He was at JPL in Pasadena for a couple of years. Are you two an item?"

Long pause. "In research, yes."

"Do you still have some of the aerogel specimens, Rachel?"

"Yes. Several are still in liquid nitrogen."

"Good. Please bring them all to me at Cape Canaveral."

Subatomic Physics Laboratory, NASA complex, Cape Canaveral, Florida. Friday, 13 November. 1130 hours:

Rachel and Zack handed over their I.D. cards to the Air Force M.P. "Professor Talbert is expecting us," Rachel said.

He checked the scanner printout with a dubious eye. "Both of you are Omega-5? You need to be 6 or 7. Let me check with the Prof."

"Meyer and McFarland have been upgraded to Omega-7, Sergeant." Professor Talbert said over the intercom. "Please show them in."

"Welcome, Rachel and Zack." Talbert extended a slender hand to each. They stared.

Professor Beatrice Alicia Talbert was a tall 42 year-old woman with shoulder-length straight auburn hair showing early faint streaks of gray. She had piercing gray-green eyes and clear polished fingernails. She wore a white lab coat over an oversized green Florida Gators sweatshirt, Levi's and white Reebok running shoes.

"Do I pass inspection," she asked with a faint smile.

Zack gave her a grin and a thumbs-up. Rachel, an embarrassed blush. "Sorry for staring."

"Don't be. Curiosity is good. Please come in. Are you two an item?"

Zack smiled, Rachel blushed.

Dr. Talbert's small office held a Government Issue gray metal desk. A 27-inch iMac and disorderly piles of documents were arrayed on the desktop. There was a visitor's chair heaped with more sheets of hardcopy. A framed classic Blade Runner movie poster adorned one wall and a Stars of NASCAR calendar another.

Zack looked around, nodding approval. Rachel gaped.

Talbert dumped the hardcopy to the deck. "Please sit, Rachel. Zack, grab a folding chair from the closet. She pressed a remote. Muted strains of J.S. Bach's Goldberg Variations flowed from hidden stereo speakers. "Helps me concentrate. Want some coffee?"

Negative head shake from both.

"Good choice. NASA coffee is toxic. Please show me the aerogel collections."

Rachel pulled the preserved aerogel sheets, photos and paperwork from her briefcase and laid them on the desk. "The branching cone-shaped defects are particle impacts."

"Good tracks," Talbert noted. "And the particles were disappearing?"

"Yes."

"When did it stop?"

"As soon as all particles were destroyed, Zack said."

"Mm-hmm. Time frame?"

Rachel flipped pages. "47 minutes to onset after exposure to room air. Complete in three hours, thirty-eight minutes. The sheet I saved in liquid nitrogen had only been exposed for an hour."

"Good thinking. Show me."

Zack produced a narrow insulated gray cylinder from his briefcase.

"Let's bring it to the lab."

Banks of fluorescent fixtures and a single skylight lighted the windowless laboratory space. It was crowded with scientific equipment, computers and flat screen monitors. A late model transmission electron microscope rested in its own space.

"Tony, we've got a hot one," Dr. Talbert said. "Let's crank up the Hitachi."

"Tony Nakamura," the young Asian man introduced himself. "I'm Dr. Talbert's postgraduate Fellow." He flipped a series of switches on the EM control panel. "Ready."

Beatrice said, "This is a frozen sample from NASA's Wild-2 excursion. Let it thaw slowly. Use the wide-angle lens. Sixty thou mag first, then get a time track at 1.2 mil."

"Won't we lose resolution at such high magnification?" Zack asked.

"We're looking for changes in atomic structure, Zack, not molecular."

They peered at the CRT screen image. "Sixty thousand mag," Tony said. "Here's a nice magnesium olivine crystal."

Tony tapped computer keys. "Burning a timed CD at 1.2 million mag."

Beatrice said, "Well done. We've got some time. Let's all go get some lunch. Zack's buying."

1430 hours:

"Watch the screen," Dr. Talbert said. She clicked a remote. "Tony programmed the playback to save images of all changes in atomic structure. Here's the first."

"Oh, wow," Rachel breathed. "The olivine's magnesium and iron sulfate crystals are breaking down."

Talbert nodded. "Yes. How?"

Zack took a breath, cupped his chin in one hand. "Something on the subatomic level. Free radicals? Helium or hydrogen ions?"

"You're close, Zack. Those don't destroy matter. When was Wild-2 formed, Rachel?"

"At least 3.7 billion years ago."

"Okay. Lots of subatomic stuff was still circulating in our evolving universe. And some of it got caught in a newly formed comet's tail. Something that should have gone elsewhere."

"Oh wow. Antimatter," Rachel whispered. Zack gave her a high five.

Talbert said, "Yes. Professor Drell at Stanford was right. Equal amounts of matter and antimatter were formed at the Big Bang singularity. She and many other physicists believe the antimatter formed a separate universe. So do I."

"Some antimatter was trapped in Wild-2 when it was formed in that three point seven some-odd billions of years ago and frozen," she added. "It was active enough after those eons to attack your particulates when thawed."

"Antimatter is free positrons," she continued. "They annihilate electrons, thus causing disruption of individual atoms, then the molecules they comprise. But we use antimatter every day. Positron Emission Tomography, PET scans. It's a diagnostic tool to produce images of internal body organs."

"PET scan. That's homemade antimatter," Zack said. "It's been tamed. Ours hasn't."

"What did you mean when you said we had shown up at an opportune time, Bea," Rachel asked.

She smiled. "It fits in quite nicely with something I'm working on. Are you familiar with the term graviton?"

Zack said, "Theoretical quantum of gravitational energy thought to be particulate. I've read a couple of internet reports that are inconclusive. Some propose a quantum antigraviton particle as well."

"You get an A plus, Zack." She reached into a battered tan briefcase and removed a manila envelope. She handed it to him. "This has been accepted for publication by next January's Astrophysical Journal."

He removed the article, read its abstract and passed it over to Rachel.

Her eyes grew wide as she read. "The graviton is real. Why don't we know about this, Bea?"

"My idea," she said. "My study is incomplete. I have some explaining to do. Please come with me. I have a space probe returning quite soon."

Zack handed the article back. Talbert walked to a framed print of Stephen Hawking's face on one wall. She moved it aside, opened a small safe behind it, placed the hardcopy inside and scrambled the cipher lock digits. "I'm sure you and Rachel have lots of questions, right?"

Speechless, both nodded.

They followed Professor Talbert to a conference room. "Please sit." She clicked a remote and a 70-inch plasma screen came to life. "This tapered cylinder in Docking Bay 3 at Space Station Delta Echo is deep space probe Infinity-1. It left for the Kuiper Belt eight months ago and will return shortly."

Blink of dark irises from Rachel. "Incredible."

"Now just a second," Zack said, a look of doubt creasing his brow. "The Kuiper Belt is beyond the orbit of Pluto. Roughly ten billion miles from Earth. You're telling me your Infinity-1 probe made the round trip in a bit over eight months?"

Beatrice gave him a lazy smile. "Another thing I've been working on. This prototype is outfitted with a rudimentary gravity engine, which depends on graviton-antigraviton interactions to surpass light speed. Future probes may be able to achieve similar distances in seconds."

Rachel said, "Zack is right, Professor Talbert. With that kind of speed your probe would burn up in seconds, even in airless space."

She nodded. "Excellent observations, both of you. I don't fully understand the process myself. Earlier probes of a different design reached the orbit of Mars and returned in merely minutes. I suspect the antigraviton reaction bends space and the probes entered wormholes. But enough of this. It's a subject for another day."

Beatrice continued, "I am trying to recover material from the Kuiper belt, micrometeorites, particulate material or dust. This will be some of the oldest debris ever recovered. Thirteen-plus billions of years old, possibly more. Closer to the Big Bang singularity than ever. And perhaps with some more leftover antimatter."

Dr. Talbert glanced at her watch. "1730 hours. Happy Hour at the Navy Officers Club. Let's go get a drink."

Zack grinned. "I'm ready for a cold one."

Flush of agitation from Meyer. "But we must ..."

"Don't go anal-retentive on me, Rachel. Relax. There is another consideration we must ponder."

Navy Officers Club. 1800 hours:

Dr. Talbert chose Stoli rocks with a twist. Rachel opted for Diet Pepsi and Zack ordered an Anchor Steam beer.

"What other consideration?" Rachel asked.

Bea stirred ice cubes with a fingertip, took a swallow. "A possibility we haven't discussed."

"Please go on."

Dr. Talbert pressed her fingertips together, elbows on the table. "Any antimatter we recover from Kuiper Belt material will be eons earlier in the Universe's history than Wild-2's. Its reactivity will be unpredictable."

"We've proven that cold stops the antimatter reaction," Rachel argued.

Beatrice nodded. "True for Wild-2's. But for Kuiper, who knows?"

Rachel made a fist. "We're scientists, Bea."

"It's terra incognita, Rachel."

"It was for the Apollo Eleven astronauts in 1969," Zack said.

Bea smiled, motioned for a refill. "Your enthusiasm is refreshing. Show me the design of your aerogel collection device."

Zack sketched on a cocktail napkin with a black Bic ballpoint pen, added dimensions. "It unfolds to about the size of a tennis racquet."

Bea took the pen and scribbled some equations. "Hmm. That was fine for a comet's tail, but as I've mentioned, I added a titanium steel capture net to entrap larger bodies, such as micrometeorites. The additional bulk is a problem."

"Oh no," Rachel moaned.

Bea drew another cocktail napkin sketch and passed it to Rachel and Zack. "The probe can't return to Delta Echo with the size and configuration of my capture design. But it has a backup system. Rather than bring them to Delta Echo, two collection modules will be ejected and parachute down to the ocean off Cape Canaveral. Each module will deploy flotation gear and we will recover them within an hour."

Rachel exhaled a sigh of relief. "Will they remain frozen?"

Bea smiled. "Both in liquid nitrogen."

Rachel signaled the waiter. "Bring me what Dr. Talbert is having."

"Good choice," Bea said.

Rachel took a large swallow of her Stoli rocks. She blinked several times and dried her eyes with a sleeve. "Wow."

"Don't guzzle," Bea said. "Vodka is an acquired taste."

Zack nodded. "I've got one for any type of brew." He took a swallow of beer and raised a hand to signal for a refill. "When this faster than light probe contacts the Kuiper Belt, won't it be ripped to shreds by the material it was sent to collect?"

Talbert nodded. I've programmed it to return to sublight speed long enough to collect its specimens, then return to the wormhole and head home."

Zack gave her a skeptical glance as he tapped numbers on his iPad. "Pretty iffy, I'd say. About a six percent chance of success."

She grabbed the device and entered equations. "My calculations figure in the constantly changing distances between Earth, Neptune and the Kuiper Belt, depending on their orbital positions relative to the Sun and Earth. The effects of former planet Pluto are minimal. For six months prior to the launch of Infinity-1 I consulted several times with NSA's Cray supercomputer lab folks. My chances of success are almost sixty-forty."

Zack and Rachel exchanged glances and discussed in whispers. Zack nodded. "We're convinced," Rachel said.

Bea smiled, rattled the ice in her empty glass. "Your turn to buy a round, Zack."

Her cell phone chirped. "Talbert." She listened for several seconds. "That's perfect. Right on the nose. Thank you."

She turned to Rachel and Zack. "0730 hours tomorrow. Infinity-1 will release the two Kuiper Belt module parachutes before returning to Delta Echo space station. About 48 minutes later they will splash down within view of our coastline, if all goes well."

"We'll be ready," Rachel said.

0822 hours November 14:

Dr. Talbert handed out Zeiss binoculars to Rachel and Zack as she watched on her computer screen. "They should appear at our eleven o'clock position," she told them. "The parachutes have a red and whit stripe pattern. There is a SEAL team with a Zodiac rubber inflatable craft standing by. They will recover the two modules. We should have them within the hour."

"Hmm. That's odd," Bea commented as she tapped computer keys.

Zack shifted his binoculars to the 1100 position. "I see one of the parachutes," Zack said. "Right where you said, Dr. Talbert."

Rachel adjusted her binoculars. "I see it, Zack. Where's the second one?"

Talbert's phone chirped. She listened for a full minute. "Damn," she said in a rare display of emotion. "The other module detached early and was caught in an unexpected jet stream flow. Parachutes failed to deploy. Satellite tracking has it landing somewhere in Antarctica."

Rachel gnawed a fingernail. "Oh no."

"Easy, Rachel. We have an intact module," Bea said. "The other module may be recoverable."

Two U.S. Air Force F-22 Raptors overflying the suspected crash site reported only smooth unbroken ice.

Subatomic Particle Research Laboratory, NASA Complex, Cape Canaveral, Florida. 1030 hours:

Overhead fluorescents glinted off the tiled walls and glassware of the research lab as Rachel, Zack and Beatrice ate doughnuts and drank hot coffee provided by Tony Nakamura. "Beats that noxious waste that NASA calls coffee," Dr. Talbert commented.

"You ready with those extra liquid nitrogen canisters I requested, Tony?" Bea asked.

He nodded. "Got the EM receptacle packed with dry ice, too."

"Good. You're up, Mr. Nakamura. Start with that micrometeorite we recovered from the capture net."

Tony removed the 0.6 millimeter rough surfaced structure from its surrounding liquid nitrogen with a tiny tempered glass forceps and placed it in the EM 'scope enclosure.

They viewed the samples at 300,000x magnification. "Different than the Wild-2 specimens," Rachel noted.

"Looks primitive," Zack commented.

"I'm not surprised," Dr. Talbert said.

"Carbon, boron, magnesium and silicon. No organic molecules. 1.2 million mag, Tony. Let's look at atomic structure."

He made some 'scope adjustments. "Something different here, Prof's," He said as he peered at the screen. "Carbon atoms losing electrons. Much faster antimatter reaction than in the Wild-2 specimen."

"Specimen's starting to thaw," Rachel noted with a stutter of anxiety.

"We'd better be quick, then," Bea said.

"Oh God," Rachel whispered. "The aerogel silicates are decomposing."

"Paleontologic antimatter," Talbert said. "Step away from the scope, Tony.

"Quickly, Zack. Grab some asbestos gloves and bring me those liquid nitrogen tanks from the freezer behind you."

She removed the titanium steel mesh from the scope enclosure with an insulated glove. "Assure me this is all on disc, Tony?"

"Every second, Prof."

Rachel's eyes widened in shock. "Your glove, Bea. It's decomposing. Oh no. The glass forceps too."

"Everything into liquid nitrogen. Now, please, Zack," Bea said in a soft but compelling voice. "Try not to let anything drip."

Rachel gasped. "Did any get on you, Bea?"

She inspected both hands. "Whew. My nail polish is intact."

1225 hours:

"We were lucky," Dr. Talbert said. "We've put it to sleep. My team on Delta Echo will load it on Infinity-1 and blast it a billion miles into deep space."

Zack hugged Rachel to quell her tremors. "Close call."

"Back in cold storage," Bea said. "Perhaps enough data for my Nobel Prize."

She handed Rachel two CD copies in a double plastic sleeve. "Your Professor Jennings will be pleased with these."

Vostok, Antarctica. Combined Russian-American research station near the South Pole. Coldest spot on Earth.

"What's this, Gennady?" technician Robert Emerson asked as he eyed the deep ice core artifact from Lake Vostok.

"Beats the heck outta me, Bob," Professor Andreyev said. "Looks like a piece of silicon mesh. Like that aerogel stuff the Wild-2 NASA mission used, but with some metallic components. Wonder what it's doing here. Should we call somebody?"

"Let's thaw it out. Maybe there's a reward."

The End

Bio: Stories by E. S. Strout (M.D.), a.k.a. Gene or Gino, have appeared in Planet Magazine, Anotherealm, Millennium F&SF, Beyond-sf, Jackhammer (Eggplant Productions), Static Movement, and Bewildering Stories. And, of course, many of his stories have appeared in Aphelion (most recently The Quantum Effect, December 2012 / January 2013).

E-mail: E. S. Strout (Humanoids: replace '_AT_' with '@')

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