SABIS the SURVIVOR

Chapter 2: Forani Forever

Chapter 2: Forani Forever

In the federal aviation and space center, Forani felt at home. He placed his feet up on his large oak desk, poured himself a tall glass of chilled pomegranate juice, and settled into his beaten-up old-style leather recliner.

"They don't make these anymore," he mused.

"And they won't see famine anymore when my launch and subsequent blast is over and done. They will appreciate what I have done for them."

He swallowed his cold drink and swung his chair sideways by using his arms to wind up and then the rest of his core strength to carry the momentum around and around. When he stopped his chair's swivel, he faced the wall that held his diplomas, degrees, certificates of merit, and a picture of himself standing next to the Hydrogen bomb that he had reconfigured to emit a controlled blast.

"They will appreciate what we will do for them."

Forani, now changed out of his perspiration-filled, creased, and dusty podium outfit, appeared more at ease in his light grey Italian worsted wool suit and his shiny Canali black patent leather shoes. All he needed was a cigarette between his lips to resemble Steve McQueen the movie star while on break from a scene shoot. On the front of his desk, however, was evidence to the contrary. A bright green nameplate engraved on a brass background read: Forani Ternate, nuclear physicist and expert in earth motion.

"Use the Force Forani, use the force."

As he whispered those words, he imagined that he was a Starfighter pilot aiming his weapon at the Deathstar's vulnerable weak spot. As he was about to launch his two remaining energy bolts, Sir Alec Guinness' voice entered into his head and encouraged him to "let go and use the force."

"I will Obi Wan, I will." Then he imagined the powerful detonation of his two magnetically-controlled blasts that could pulverize any Deathstar, meteorite, or rogue asteroid.

"God hasn't made a comet that I can't break into a quadrillion pieces. I definitely use a lot of different forces," he chuckled.

Continuing as if he were orating in a lecture hall or for a webinar:

"There is the force to slam neutrons and protons together. Then there is the splitting of the bonds between atoms. With the help of new rare magnetic rocks, we can control and contain the released energy from nuclear fission, thus multiplying these forces into an amplified shockwave that will push the moon and earth into a different orbit around the sun."

Then he gazed upward to the ceiling, reached high with his hands open as if he were trying to catch a piece of a falling meteorite, and ended his oration with gratitude:

"I would like to offer a big thank you to my burning hot benefactor, the sun, for letting me channel the forces that it creates. You are my saviour. You are my God."

Forani then swivelled his chair back towards his desk where he glimpsed a picture of his daughter and son. Seeing their smug grins and well-coiffed appearance reminded him of his ex-wife and his childhood all at the same time.

"Divorce force. There is another force that propelled me to find my God-like solution. Work shall set you free. Arbeit Macht Frei. Yes, it does! It can lead to a Nobel Prize too! May you rot in hell, Gladys. Although you did give me two great kids and the drive to do my research. It seemed that working to save humans from a slow and painful extinction was not good enough for you. I did not deserve to see your legs wrapped around the low-life neighbour in our bed. So while I worked to plug the holes in the ozone layer, you were working to have your holes plugged by Mr. Crabtree. Result: A hole in my heart the size of Kansas and inflated alimony payments."

Forani did not wish to cry. He had done enough of that activity as a young child. When his parents had sent him away to an all-boys school in the countryside, he not only learned how to tend to animals and become more self-sufficient, he had also learned what his Master Rector meant when he had told him to "bend over in the shower for inspection." It was then that Forani learned how to suppress his feelings.

Rector the Erector he used to call him.

"Cry out and I will tell the other boys that you wanted me to urinate on you," the Rector had threatened.

"You are just one crying jag away from a good lickin' from the others. Then whatever they leave over, I will chop up into little pieces, and use as kindling for the wood furnace in my study."

Forani shuddered and closed his eyes tightly as he recalled the sweet yet menacing tone of Rector Evan's voice. Forani started to swivel his chair again. As he spun round and round, he imagined that he was an excited valence electron flying in its outer orbit, anticipating a meeting with another electron's orbital cloud. When his electrons would eventually join forces with another entity's electrons that held a strong attraction for him, then the resulting covalent bond would be stronger than any scientific group or conglomerate. Once merged, there would be a release of potential energy that follows the equation, F(1) = F x T/e, generated from the gravitational force and magnetic spin rates. Then there would be bliss.

F=Gm1m2r2, F(1) = Forani Force, which is equal to the Force between two celestial bodies multiplied by the T = the magnetic attraction between two rotating electron clouds divided by the e = the electron spin rate