No Such Thing as Evil

Chapter 7

"So that concludes the old business," said Dr. Heinrich Miller. "Do we have any new business?"

There was a long pause. They'd been having weekly meetings on the dark energy project for ten years and, knowing there would be no new business, they always pushed it right to the end. But new business was on the agenda, and the group always waited respectfully—a formality—and Ben could feel the others' anticipation of the meeting's end. On one of the large wall-mounted vid screens, Ben watched as Heinrich started pulling his notes together at the research center in the UK, and on the other, Rajiv Gupta stood up, not fully in the camera's view now.

"Well, I do have something," said Ben.

They stopped. Heinrich looked up and said kindly, "Out with it then."

"Well, I know we're out of time, but I—"

"I've got time."

"Of course," said Raj, sitting back down.

"OK," said Ben. "I have an idea to use the Compton Effect to get better resolution."

"That would require a separate signal," pointed out Raj from the satellite downlink facility in Australia.

"That's right," said Ben. "Actually, I'm proposing three signals. The idea is to use the cosmic background radiation and the solar wind as the two additional signals."

"Hmm, interesting," said Heinrich. "Neither is stable or predictable. Both vary substantially. Neither source is one signal but rather an aggregate of billions of signals."

"Yes," said Ben enthusiastically. "The method takes advantage of the variability. Medical scanning devices use the same technique. I spoke to the company in Mexico that manufactures them, and I learned how their process leverages the signal variation. So using the same principles, I developed a prototype and fed it archive data. The results look promising. I'd like to ask the team to review my work."

"Ben, if you're right, this could be a tremendous breakthrough. What are you waiting for? Send it on!"

Ben had the message cued up. He tapped send on his surface display. The link to the centrally stored information raced across the globe to his colleagues.

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Chelsea put her mom's purse on her lap once she was settled in the wheelchair. Gregory wheeled her out of the guest room to the hallway.

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" asked Chelsea.

"Of course, dear," said her mom. "You finish getting ready."

"I'll take good care of her, miss," said Gregory.

The door swished closed behind them. Ugh! Miss, miss, miss! He said that on purpose. I know it. Chelsea crossed her mother's guest room to the adjoining door to her own guest room. Standing in front of the full-length mirror, she tried to see what Evangelos's family would see. Mrs. Evangelos Venizelos. She turned and admired the reflection. The dress was spectacular. Sleeveless, with a beaded bodice. The ivory color was . . . magical. The beads shimmered like opals with bits of rainbow dancing about. The skirt hugged her hips and thighs. Not too short, she hoped, although bending over would be tricky. The bodice supported her breasts beautifully, creating a dramatic décolletage. The necklace was a gift from Evangelos—thin as thread, ending with a single strand that lay in the valley between. Her blonde hair was up, a masterpiece of its own. Large flowing curls reached the nape of her neck. Turning to see the other side, she imagined herself walking with Evangelos down a red carpet at a premier event, blinding flashes from the crowd as she waved, blowing kisses at just the right time, just like James Lovejoy. Vids would be online in seconds.