“Meaning…” The director swiveled sharply, directing his gaze at Alex. “I’m not ordering the Tevatron shut down on the recommendation of a postdoc.” The director tapped his desk with a balled fist. “I’d be laughed out of my director’s appointment if I did.”
Katerina made calming motions with her hands. “Look. The idea was to close down the Tevatron when the LHC came online. And it has. So why not shut it down now?”
“Not a chance. We’ve got funding to the end of the year.”
Alex saw the director move his hand forward, and then the screen went black. “As the saying goes,” said Alex under his breath, “there but for the grace of God goes God.”
“You noticed,” said Decker, his eyes also on the now blank screen. He turned his attention to Alex and Katerina. “Can’t promise anything,”—he stood, bringing the meeting to a close—”but I’ll see what I can do.”
“There’s not much time,” said Katerina.
“I know.”
Takeo glanced up from his chess set as Alex and Katerina came back into the cafeteria. It looked as if he’d been playing a game with himself.
Alex threw himself down into a chair.
“It appears the director did not agree with the proposal,” said Takeo.
“Closed-minded idiot.”
Katerina sat. “I wonder,” she said, distantly. “Once the earthquake starts, is there any way to stop it?”
Takeo stroked his chin. After a moment, he said, “If the Tevatron were shut down, the Earth should re-seal and the quake should stop.”
“Then I’m going to try to turn off the Tevatron myself.” Alex sprang to his feet. “Before the LHC powers up.”
Katerina appeared startled. “But the deputy director said he’d—”
“We can’t rely on that,” said Alex.
“Injudicious,” said Takeo. “One would not be able to gain entry to the Tevatron.”
“We’ll see.” Alex spun around, but before he’d taken two steps away, Takeo cleared his throat. Alex stopped, looked around, and saw Takeo beckoning him with his forefinger. Alex walked back to the table. “Yes?”
“How much time would there be between your dog’s howl and the possible earthquake?”
“About ten minutes.”
“So long?” said Takeo.
“The Earth reacts slowly.” Alex wanted to get on with it but was curious what Takeo had in mind.
“Might not a better plan be to wait near the Tevatron and wait for the dog to howl? And only then to attempt a shut-down?”
“You’ll come with me?”
Takeo shook his head. “Regrettably not.”
Alex narrowed his eyes.
“Should the dog howl, go to the D-zero entrance,” said Takeo. “If entry is possible, and one goes inside, there is a wooden door about twenty meters in—on the left.” Takeo spoke softly. “The door opens to a corridor leading to a room where there once was an experiment. Inside is an inner room where a beam from the accelerator impacted geological samples. The beam no longer goes to that room. The room is empty now. All equipment has been removed. Go there.”
“Why? What good is it if there’s nothing running there anymore?”
“Ah. Although the equipment has been removed, the inner room is still there.” Takeo leaned forward. “And so is the emergency dead-button inside that room.” He leaned further toward Alex. “Push that button,
” he said at a whisper, “and the Tevatron will immediately shut down.”“Really?”
“And it will take two days to start it up again.”
“That would give us time to take our case higher than the director.”
Takeo nodded.
“Thank you.” Alex turned again to go.
“Wait!” said Katerina at a shouted whisper. “I’m coming with you.”
Alex spun around, paused a second or two, then said, “I really appreciate that, but there’s no way your visitor ID would get you anywhere near the Tevatron.” He took a quick swig from his water glass, the ice having long since melted. “And I’m traveling by bicycle. And I don’t know exactly where on the ring the D-Zero experiment is.” He put down the glass.
Katerina turned sharply. “Professor Wakabayashi,” she said, “drive us, please.”
Takeo gave a throaty sigh. He paused. “All right. Fine. One has been there before.”
“You will?” said Alex.
“The Tevatron has a four-mile circumference,” said Takeo, “and the D-Zero experiment is halfway around.” He stood. “Come.” He headed for the door. Alex and Katerina followed.
As they hurried down the front steps of the building, Wegener fell in behind.
Sitting in Takeo’s car, parked in a lot near the D-Zero entrance, Alex watched anxiously as the dashboard clock inexorably crept toward noon. No one spoke. Even Wegener stayed silent.
Finally, noon came.
Alex held his breath, his arm around Wegener.
“He’s not howling,” said Katerina, almost at a whisper.
Alex checked his watch. It read the same as the dashboard clock.
For minutes, they sat as if frozen.
Then Wegener did howl—a loud howl that Alex knew portended a huge quake. He flung open the car door and sprang out. Wegener followed.
Alex pointed at his dog. “Stay! Wegener, stay!” Alex turned and headed away from the parking area. He forced himself to move at a casual pace, not wanting to draw attention to himself. Hearing the car door open again, he stopped and swiveled around.