Chapter 11

  Kelton spent the next few hours trying to keep himself occupied and working out of frustration and anger. He mowed the lawn, pulled weeds, and fixed the window in the driver's door of the Nova. As he was reassembling the door and repositioning the wires in their channels, the diagrams and schematics that Milton Cohen had shown him flashed back through his brain. His head pounded, and he lay down on the seat. In one gestalt, Kelton saw a new strategy for the box. In his mind's eye, he saw where he could easily source the materials he would need to reconstruct the frame. He knew where he could set up a laboratory. Every detail of the project was simultaneously present in his head. His vision went dim. The details of the project pierced the dimness like a beaming flashlight in a tight, dark cave. “Can it really be that easy?” he asked himself, fighting through the pain of a blinding headache.

  His headache was slowly replaced with a voracious hunger. When he could move, he staggered into the house and went through the refrigerator and cupboards. He stuffed his mouth with some stale coconut cookies while he stashed some jerky, the rest of the stale cookies, some peanuts, and four cans of diet cola into a grocery bag. He carried the bag out to his car and tossed the bag onto the passenger seat. He glanced to make sure his tool kit was still on the floor in front of the passenger seat. As soon as he was able to see clearly enough to drive, Colton was in his Nova, making a beeline for Jimmy Bob’s Army / Navy surplus store 200 miles down the highway.

  The three hours on the turnpike seemed to go on forever. He couldn't remember ever having been so frustrated at the amount of time it took to travel. It felt like he was crawling when he should be flying. “Do fish complain because they’re wet? Maybe you have a point, Alex,” he mumbled to himself. He occupied his mind rehashing the events of the last day. His anger flared as he thought about Tilly and Chaz. His heart raced as the anger pounded in his veins. He thought about how angry Gillian had been with him. His chest tightened, and a wave of nausea swept over him. “You knew who I was when you married me. You can't ask me to change now,” he said out loud.

  He had never seen Gillian so angry before. He knew she didn't want him to get in the box, but history couldn’t be changed,

  The need to know about everything had consumed his entire life. In grade school, he was bullied and called ‘the professor’ because of his intense interest in the sciences. He hadn't helped himself by wanting to share everything he had learned with those around him. He had participated and placed in every science fair in every year of junior high and high school. His projects in cryogenics and particularly his resourcefulness in assembling the materials and apparatus for his experiments using available materials had impressed recruiters from several schools.

  The same resourcefulness had made him very popular with his instructors and advisors. He distinguished himself among other grad students and lab assistants because he was able to design experiments efficiently and cost-effectively. When there was no apparent path forward, Deke was able to find a workaround. In performance reviews, his critics thought he was too willing to cut corners to advance his projects. He disregarded the criticism as professional jealousy.

  After what seemed an interminable drive, Deke pulled into the parking lot at Jimmy Bob’s. Deke brushed aside the cans and wrappers from snack foods, found the handle to his toolbox, and made his way to the entrance.

  Jimmy Bobs had been Deke’s secret weapon since junior high. The Army-Navy surplus store was two acres of Quonset huts, tents, and boweries. The motto on Jimmy Bob's billboards was “I got everything you need if I can find it.” The merchandise was in a jumble. Whenever a new shipment of surplus items came in, they were dumped where it was most convenient for Jimmy Bob. Machine tools sat next to air conditioning units, which were partially obscured by draperies of bladder fuel tanks. Desks and office equipment were piled with test fixtures and $10,000 toilet seats, all of which Jimmy Bob had purchased at pennies per pound.

  One time, he had found a $25,000 spectrum analyzer that wasn't working. He picked it up for $25, replaced a blown fuse, and for a few days, he was the king of the lab.

  For the next three hours, Deke dug and explored the mystery piles. He found plastic 5-gallon buckets of the rare earths he needed lying on their sides near a stack of ominous-looking unlabeled barrels. He found a variable frequency variable voltage power supply under a tangle of cables and connectors. The power supply was 20 times more powerful than he needed, but it would do the job without any strain. In a stack of kitchen utensils and pots and pans, he found a 20-gallon liquid nitrogen tank that felt like it was still half full. A stack of 8-foot-long 2” copper pipes, some pipe fittings, and three catalytic converters still new in their shrink wrapping completed his shopping list. He had conflicting emotions each time he found an item. He was thrilled at the find but worried about how he was going to pay for it. Would his credit card stretch to cover it? He had never been so successful in finding what he was looking for at Jimmy Bob’s in such a short period of time. The thought crossed his mind that maybe Milton Cohen was helping him out somehow. “Are you there, Doctor Cohen?” Deke said out loud. He listened for a few seconds but got no answer.

  He piled his finds into a wheelbarrow and made his way to the checkout counter. As he made the long walk over the uneven path that led to the main building and checkout counter, a cash register peeking out from under a stack of tarps caught his eye. On a hunch, he uncovered the cash register and pulled it towards him. It was much heavier than he expected it to be. He pried open the bottom cash drawer. Rolls of nickels, dimes, and quarters fell onto the ground at his feet. Glancing around quickly to make sure Jimmy Bob wasn’t looking, he scrabbled up the rolls of coins and dropped them into his toolbox. He was hit with a brief twinge of conscience. Under his breath, he said to himself, “I'll make this good later. I will pay Jimmy Bob back as soon as I can.”

  Jimmy Bob himself sat at the checkout desk, stroking his gray, stubbly beard. He brushed some crumbs off his vintage Navy peacoat and looked up at Deke.

  “Well, lookie here! I’m thinkin’ I found everything you need, just like the sign says!” He gave a quick assessment of the items in the wheelbarrow. “That looks like about a $300.00 load. Cash or charge?”

  “Maybe both,” said Deke. “Let's see what I've got in my toolbox.” He pulled out the rolls of coins and placed them on the counter in front of Jimmy Bob.

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  They counted out the rolls of coins. There was only about $220 in the stack. “I'd best check these coins,” said Jimmy Bob. “A businessman like me has got to keep his eyes open.” He touched his forefinger to the side of his nose with a nod at Deke.

  Jimmy Bob opened a roll of the dimes. They spilled out on the counter with a ringing sound. Jimmy Bob's eyes lit up, “Well if this is all you've got, I think we can let that stack go for 220 dollars.” He held out his hand. “Shake on it?”

  Deke had never seen Jimmy Bob act like this before. He shrugged and shook Jimmy Bob's hand. A big toothless grin spread across Jimmy Bob's face. “I think I pulled one over on you, young feller. I don't think you noticed that those dimes were pure silver. I made out pretty good on this transaction. You need to keep a better eye on what you got in your pockets,” he chuckled.

  Deke was caught by surprise. He had been feeling guilty putting the rolls of coins on the countertop. For a second, he found himself a little ticked off at having been taken advantage of like that. That roll of Dimes was easily worth $150. Were the other coins in the rolls all silver? That stack of rolled coins could be worth $3000 or more. Deke wanted to know. “Maybe we should check those other rolls.” He suggested.

  “Nothing doing. A deal's a deal. We even shook on it. You need some help getting this stuff out to your car?”

  Deke smiled inwardly, secretly glad that his misdemeanor hadn't turned into a felony. “You got me, Jimmy Bob. You know? I'm glad this deal worked out for you. I love this place. I hope you never have to change a thing.”

  Deke had to shoehorn all his purchases into the Nova. He hummed the Tetris theme as he stacked and restacked the items to get them in his car. The copper pipe had to be duct taped to the roof. There was barely enough room for him to sit in the driver's seat, but he had found a way to make it all work.

  All day, Deke had been giving serious thought to where he was going to set up his new apparatus. He couldn't afford to rent a lab or even a storage unit. He didn't need a lot of space. He didn't even have any exotic power requirements. He just needed half a garage somewhere. Preferably somewhere out of the way where he could work without being disturbed. As he drove past a junction sign, the perfect plan occurred to him. He turned his car around and took the turnoff that led to Gillian’s parent's get-away cabin near Heaven Lake. No one ever used the cabin this time of year. It had water and electricity but little else. Heat was provided only by a wood-burning stove. One had to travel two miles from the cabin to be able to get a spotty cellular connection. It was rustic and picturesque and had a small garage where they stored the boat in the winter months. The spot where they usually park the car would be perfect for setting up his equipment.

  The next few days and nights, Kelton busied himself preparing the equipment. He was invigorated by the clarity of his intent. He electroplated the copper tubing using the platinum and neodymium that he scavenged from the catalytic converters. He filled the tubing with the rare earths. He cut and soldered the tubes to the fittings. He drilled and tapped pressure fittings to the framework for the liquid nitrogen connections. He hardly ate or slept. He was fueled by Diet Coke and the instant coffee he found in the cupboards. He inserted coaxial power fittings into the framework. The work went quickly because of the diagrams and schematics indelibly imprinted in his mind. He knew exactly where every component should fit, the exact dimensions of each member in the framework, exactly where and at what frequency the power should be applied, and hundreds of other minute details, all critical to generating the field consistently and reliably.

  He had paused his work only twice in those three days to drive his car miles down the mountain road to where he could get a cellular signal. He tried to call Gillian both times. She didn't answer. He left her messages asking her to forgive him and asking her to talk with him. Text messages from Alex and Beta and various spammers appeared on his phone. Deke ignored them all. He had to get back to his work.

  He worked the rest of that day and into the night, creating the control panel. Deke wasn't a programmer, but he knew how to get the AI to develop the code snippets he needed. At 2:00 AM, everything was tested and ready. He had set up a timer and a USB relay board interface to the power supply. He wouldn't need any assistance conducting his tests. All the controls were now automated. The timer programs could initiate and kill the field.

  Deke surveyed his work. Everything was ready to go. Without warning, a wave of weariness swept over him. He had pushed himself for almost four days now without food and only the occasional cat nap. He left the garage. And stumbled to the cabin. He lay down on the couch and pulled a thick quilt over himself. He was asleep before he even got comfortable.

  He awoke a few hours later to the sun streaming in the window and hitting him directly in the face. He rolled off the couch and stretched the kinks from his neck and shoulders. He felt wrung out and had a pounding hunger headache. He looked around the cabin. The shelves were cleaned out for the winter. There was no food in the refrigerator. There were a couple of cans of string beans and pickled beets. Kelton was going to need more than that. He jumped in his car and drove five miles to a small cafe. He went in and sat down at the counter.

  A heart-shaped waitress in a pink uniform leaned across the counter. “Oh, honey, are you feeling OK? You're looking a little rough.” Without waiting for a response, she asked, “What can I get for you, dear? I think we’ll get you started with this.” She poured a cup of coffee for Deke.

  Deke looked at himself in the mirror across the counter. He didn't recognize himself. He had four days of stubble on his chin, and there were dark circles under his sunken eyes. He hadn’t showered in all that time, so he was probably smelling a little ripe. “Thanks,” he said,” I think I'll get started with everything on the left-hand side of the breakfast menu. Eggs over medium.”

  “Sorry, Hon. Breakfast was off two hours ago. I could get you the left-hand side of the sandwich menu,” she smiled.

  Deke Looked in his wallet. There was a lone ten-dollar bill. “What can I get for ten dollars’” he asked.

  The waitress laughed. “How about a double cheeseburger, some fries, and a chocolate shake?”

  “Sounds good!”

  “You got it, sweetie. We'll have it right out.”

  The food arrived, and Deke wolfed it down.

  “You looked like you needed that,” the waitress said through a wide smile.” Is there anything else I can get for you?”

  Deke was feeling much stronger. He pulled the $10.00 bill from his wallet and put it on the counter. “It was exactly what I needed. Thank you.”

  The waitress smiled knowingly and pushed the $10.00 bill back towards Deke. “This one was on the house, sweetie. I like to see a man enjoy his food like that.”

  “That's not necessary,” protested Deke. “I'd like to pay for my food.”

  “Just come back and see us someday when you're having a better day. Til then, I think you better hang on to your ten dollars.” She said, looking out the window at the old Nova in the parking lot. She turned and walked through the swinging door into the kitchen.

  Deke left the cafe and walked towards his car as he fished his phone from his pocket. He clicked Gillian’s name on his favorites list. The call rang once and then went to voicemail. Deke opened his mouth to leave a message, then decided that he'd already left two messages and there was nothing more to be said. There was no sense in leaving a third. She would know he had called. She would know that he wanted to talk to her. He had told her he loved her.

  Twenty minutes later, he was back in the garage. He thought about showering, but getting back to his work won out.

  He opened his laptop and selected the manual controls button. It was time to test if he could establish a field with the new framework and simplified technology. He clicked on ‘Start.’