Lifter: Proton Field #2 Read online

  “He’s the brother of Nina Quan, one of your brother’s fellow hostages.”

  “Oh! Connect me… Mr. Quan! I’m… I’m so sorry about your sister. Do you have any idea what we can do?” Somehow, just talking to someone in the same situation seemed to lift a burden. Then, even before he answered, she began to worry that he was calling to ask her for ideas.

  “Right now, all I’m trying to do is establish the families of the hostages as a group. Hopefully, a group to be reckoned with. I’ve got feelers out in several directions trying to find out how we can apply some leverage…” He paused for a moment, then sighed, “And, from what I hear, leverage costs money. Whether it’s for ransom, or to hire people to negotiate, or to outfit a team to go after the bastards that kidnapped them, every possible strategy costs money.”

  Uncomfortably worried that this could be some kind of phishing scam but wanting to do everything she could for her brother, Ellen said, “How much money are you thinking?”

  The man on the other end of the line sighed, “Unfortunately, I have no idea. I imagine it’ll be far more than any of us want to spend. But the sons of bitches have my sister and I’ll spend every dime I have, then take out a loan if I have to.”

  “Have you reached any of the other families?” Ellen asked.

  “Most of them. I’m working on setting up a video conference at 8 PM Eastern time.”

  “Count me in.”

  “Any of your other family members? I’d recommend we keep it as small as possible, but we need to have the people who can make decisions.”

  For a moment Ellen thought about having her AI give Quan her dad’s contact information, then decided her dad would make everyone angry trying to dominate the conference. “I’m the one for our family,” she said.

  ******

  Arlan frowned as he looked at the group gathered to look at the drawings for the prototype spacecraft. “Where’s Ellen?”

  Myr said, “She’s gotten some bad news. She called me early this morning to tell me her brother’s been kidnapped.” They all listened in consternation as Myr told them what little she knew. Everyone wanted to know what they could do to help, but Myr had little more to offer.

  Finally, their attention turned back to the drawings the structural engineer had put up on the screens. This meeting was to have a last look at the design before it was approved for construction. Arlan pointed and said, “Hey, I thought it was going to be flatter. I’ve been looking forward to having my very own flying saucer. Why’s it all rounded off on the top and bottom now?”

  Harvey Dean, the engineer, said, “Aerodynamics during lift to orbit. If it has a flat top and we try to drive it rapidly up through the atmosphere it’ll be aerodynamically unstable. So we thought we’d put that semi-dome shape on it. It’s a little like the bulged bottoms of space capsules all the way back to Mercury. They’ve been coming down through the atmosphere at high speeds for quite a while now. We figure we can use that interior area for storage, at least for things that won’t be damaged by being so close to the focus of the proton fields.”

  “Okay,” Arlan said, “I’m disappointed, but I guess I can live with it. What’re these crosshatched sections here? It seems like they mostly surround the passenger compartment? But I also see them here and there within it. Surely they’re not just wasted space?”

  Harvey Dean, the engineer, said, “That’s what we’re calling the ‘attractant.’ It’s the high hydrogen content material in the frame of the craft that the proton fields will attract in order to provide lift and thrust. We were going to use polyethylene, but we’ve decided to fill it with water. Making it watertight will add some expense, but in an emergency the water could be used for drinking or electrolyzed for oxygen.”

  “Why’s it going all the way around the passenger compartment? Since the proton fields pull hardest on hydrogen that’s close to them, it doesn’t seem like having a layer beneath the passengers will be very helpful, will it?”

  “Ah, yes. But we’re talking about a space craft. Once we get out away from Earth’s magnetosphere, we’ll want to have protection from cosmic rays. Polyethylene and water are both better for that than metal because they absorb cosmic rays better. When such highly energetic nuclei strike metal, they tend to produce a lot of secondary radiation particles.” He shrugged, “Of course, you could use a lot of metal to get sufficient protection, but we need something containing a lot of hydrogen for the proton fields to pull on anyway.” Arlan had opened his mouth to ask another question, but Harvey put up a halting hand asking him to wait and said, “There’s another issue to consider. If all your attractant’s above the passengers, the force moving your craft will be pulling much harder on that attractant, and therefore on the frame of your ship, than it is on the passengers. That could mean that we’d be back to having the passengers endure high G accelerations. On the other hand, the frame of the craft has a lot of metal and other materials that won’t be pulled on by the field generators. This means the frame will have relatively less force moving it than the passengers. Therefore it’d accelerate less rapidly than they do and they could wind up smashed against the ceiling. Because of this, we may need to put more of the attractant up close to the field generators where it’ll be subject to higher forces and move the frame more strongly. Or, conversely, further away. We’ve decided that we don’t know enough to accurately predict exactly where we want the attractant to be located, so we’ll need to be able to pump some of the attractant up and down to move it closer or farther from the field generators.”

  “But…” Arlan paused to study the diagram and think, “In this current design we’re using a lot of little proton field generators. Since they’ve got a fairly small, high-gradient region of attraction, aren’t they pretty much always going to pull harder on the upper layer of attractant that’s closest to them and not so much on the passengers that are further below?”

  “Yeah, and it won’t have the power to accelerate as much as the next version. But we thought we’d go ahead and design this craft so it could be upgraded to the larger, shallow-gradient field generators once they’ve been certified. During our early atmospheric and low earth orbit flights, we thought we wouldn’t fill the lower sections with water in order to make the craft more agile.”

  Arlan gave him a big smile, “I like a man that’s trying to save me money!”

  Dean returned a wink, “Just want the company to have a big enough profit margin to hit me up with a bonus, sir.”

  The chuckle that ran around the room made Arlan feel better about his team. They’d started the meeting pretty bummed about Ellen’s brother.

  Vinn said, “What’s with the odd shape to the shielding around the fusion reactor?”

  Dean said, “That’s from a suggestion by Dr. Mitchell. As you can see we’ve positioned the reactor at the bottom, as far below the passenger compartment as we can get it. It’ll almost be on the ground when the craft’s resting on its base. Distance diminishes radiation of course, but the most important factor’s the thick layer of tungsten shielding around the reactor which adds a lot of weight. Dr. Mitchell suggested we have a section of the shield pivot from the top to the bottom. When the craft’s on the ground, we don’t need much shielding underneath it, because the earth will serve as a shield. So, while the craft’s on the ground, the extra section pivots to the top of the reactor to provide additional protection for anyone who’s inside the passenger compartment. It’ll also pivot to the top when the ship’s in flight and no one’s near the bottom of the craft. The only time it’d be on the bottom would be if the ship were lifting off or flying low over a bunch of people.”

  “Hmm,” Arlan said, “I wish Ellen were here to defend her idea, but to me it seems like it violates the KISS principle. With a fusion reactor, power shouldn’t be in short supply. So, we should be able to lift a bit of extra tungsten. Making a machine unnecessarily complex is just asking for trouble in my experience.”

  Dean snorted a little laugh, “
You’re probably right, even though tungsten’s really heavy.” He put a plaintive, whiny tone in his voice, ‘But it’s such a cool idea!”

  That got another laugh. After a little more discussion in which a few other minor changes were suggested, the group approved building a slightly modified design. Since many parts had already been approved and were in construction, the engineers didn’t think it’d be much longer before they had a prototype craft.

  ******

  Ellen studied her big screen. It displayed windows with the various people who’d joined the conference call of the family members of the Philippine kidnap victims.

  As the organizer of the video conference, Ardis Quan’s window was in the center. Ellen studied him, thinking he looked somewhat Asian, probably Filipino, like you might expect from his name. However, she thought he was a mixture of races. There was something different about him. His accent and attitudes seemed to be pure West Coast American. He struck her as being quite handsome and unusually self-confident. He invited each of the participants to introduce themselves, then summarized what was known so far.

  Quan told them that the kidnappers appeared to be a branch of Abu Sayyaf though they hadn’t yet made such a claim. They’d beheaded Steve Hansen, the leader of the volunteer group, for being a Christian proselytizer who’d attempted to convert good Muslims, suggesting they believe themselves to be good Muslims themselves. Ardis displayed pictures of the four women and the two men who’d been kidnapped. The picture of Ellen’s brother Mark arrested her gaze. It’d been taken in the Philippines and he’d looked much happier than when she’d last seen him.

  Quan said, “Our loved ones went to the Philippines to help the people there. Remember that… These kidnappers cannot justify what they’ve done based on some offense committed by the people that they’ve taken. Instead, recognize them for who they are; selfish people who have kidnapped for personal gain and are trying to justify their behavior for religious reasons…” Ardis paused, “though their behavior cannot be justified.”

  Someone said, “Yes, yes, but what can we do?”

  “I, and several of you,” Ardis said, “have spoken to our State Department.” Ellen felt a spike of guilt for not having contacted the State Department herself. Quan continued, “Of course, the State Department says that it’s doing everything it can do. It encourages us not to try to pay ransom. It says it’s working with the Philippines’ anti-kidnapping task force and that we should wait for them to do their job.”

  “Do they usually get people back?”

  “No,” Ardis said without sugarcoating.

  This started an onslaught of wailing, demands for action, and bitter criticism of the government. The group spoke over one another and Ellen could barely grasp the general thrust of what people were saying. She didn’t say anything, feeling like she had little of use to contribute. Instead, she kept her eye on Ardis who watched the others patiently and impassively.

  Quan allowed them to vent their emotions for a minute or so, then used his moderator’s override to silence everyone. He said, “We’re all very upset. That’s understandable. However, at present, there’s little we can do. Demanding that someone else do something accomplishes nothing unless we can find someone capable of doing it. Criticizing the State Department will not retrieve our loved ones. As I see it, we can wait and hope, or we can prepare ourselves for possible action. Conceivable future actions that we might take are to fund a negotiator who might arrange ransom, or,” he paused, then gravely continued, “to fund a paramilitary team that’d attempt to retrieve our loved ones by means outside the law. Until the kidnappers make a ransom demand, we can’t even try to pay them off. It seems precipitous to begin undertaking actions outside the law at this early stage.” Quan paused, apparently to let everyone catch up to his thinking, then continued, “However, I would like to suggest that we establish a fund that would enable us to respond quickly if precipitous action became necessary. I believe it’d be reasonable to spend a small amount of that fund hiring a negotiator so that we’ll be prepared when they demand a ransom. We could also use some of the funds trying to find people willing to help us with a paramilitary mission so we’d be prepared if it came to that.”

  There was some argument about how much people should donate, who would manage the funds and who would decide whether to disburse them. Quan had an interesting model for this, suggesting that, since some people were wealthier than others, that everyone donate as much as they could. Votes about disbursement of the donated money would be decided according to how much you had donated, similar to corporate voting shares. This would encourage everyone to donate as much as they could so they could have a vote. It’d also alleviate concerns that someone who had donated little might be deciding what was to be done with other people’s money.

  Quan suggested the financial plan after pointing out that he had virtually no savings to contribute of his own, though he planned to work tirelessly to find a way to retrieve his sister. He felt fairly certain that he was likely to be the one to figure out where they could spend the money, however, if he was put in charge of disbursement others might think it unfair since he’d be contributing little of the money to be spent.

  Linda Simons’ father said, “What makes you think you can find a paramilitary force? Or for that matter even a negotiator?”

  Quan said, “My father was an immigrant from the Philippines. He knows people there. Don’t worry; he’ll be able to find us a negotiator.”

  “Okay, but where are you going to find a paramilitary group?”

  Quietly, Quan said, “At present, I’m in the Army Special Forces. As we speak, I’m mustering out so that I can devote all my attention to my sister’s situation… I know a lot of people who do this kind of thing.”

  Ellen saw Simons’ eyebrows shoot up. He said, “Okay, also, I now understand why you don’t have much money of your own, but it seems to me that you’re the best man for the job.”

  Ellen wasn’t surprised when Simons was put in charge of collecting and keeping track of everyone’s money. He’d disburse it after collecting enough votes to determine what the majority of the shares’ holders wanted to do, but wouldn’t have to get votes from everyone.

  They agreed to give Quan up to ten percent of the money up front so he could spend it finding a negotiator and beginning to look for paramilitary team members.

  After the video conference disbanded, Ellen got online and sold all the stocks she’d been investing in so she’d have some cash on hand when Simons was ready to take in some money. Then she sent a message to her father detailing the plan and asking him if he and her mom would like to invest.

  Her dad didn’t respond.

  ******

  After hiking much of the night, the captives got a brief rest in the morning, but then spent the rest of the day exhaustedly trekking across country, mile, after mile, after mile. Finally, Massoud Totioni stopped the dog-tired captives in front of a stand of bamboo. “Okay,” he said, “now comes your chance to affect your own fates. We’re going to make a little video of you to prove to the world that you’re still alive. Abu Sayyaf needs funds, so each of you will have an opportunity to ask your countrymen and your relatives to ransom you so that you might go free. Alternatively, you can ask them to pray for your souls because your fate will be either ransom… or death.”

  Massoud pulled out an old cell phone and started tapping on it, apparently bringing up its video recorder. He handed it to Carlo and began speaking to him in Filipino. Nina leaned toward the middle of the group of captives and quietly said, “I watched some of these ransom videos before I came on this trip. Do you guys want me to speak for all of us?”

  Mark had just been wondering what he’d say. He very desperately wanted to be free and had been worrying that he’d sound like a blubbering coward if he started begging his country and his family to ransom him. On the other hand, he thought, I’d be happy to have the world think I’m a coward if it got me out of here. But, having Ni
na speak for him sounded great. “Happy to have you speak on my behalf,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound too relieved to be able to shirk that responsibility. Everyone else said pretty much the same thing.

  With his man training the camera on them, Massoud turned back to the captives. Without stepping into the frame of the video, he spoke from close enough that the phone’s mic would pick him up. “I speak to you in the name of Abu Sayyaf. We continue working tirelessly to free our Muslim brothers from oppression here in the Philippines. In order to fight against the corrupt government and the heathen religions who are trying to exterminate us, once again we’ve had to resort to guerrilla warfare. Last night, we captured a group of six Christian proselytizers. Against the wishes of our people, they’ve been trying to dilute our faith ever since they arrived here in Mindanao. Despite the subversive war they’ve been carrying out against Islam, as you can see, we haven’t harmed them. We will return them to Lopana for one million dollars each and a promise that they’ll be removed from our country. This ransom is necessary to compensate us for the harm they’ve caused and the time we’ve invested in caring for them.” He paused for a second; then he said, “They will now have an opportunity to speak on their own behalf.”

  Nina stumped out of her position on the back right of the group. She made her way around to the front, leaning heavily on her walking stick. Mark realized she was trying to make the stick—and the marks it would make on the trail—very evident to any potential rescuers. Once she’d reached the front of the group, she paused to draw herself up, then spoke, “Hello. For those who don’t know me, I’m Nina Quan. The group has asked me to be their spokesperson. First of all, we’d like to say that our hearts go out to the family of Steve Hansen. He was murdered last night by these misguided young men who call themselves Abu Sayyaf. Steve was selfless and brave to the end. You should take great pride in him for what he’d already done to help the people of the Philippines.” She paused for a moment. Mark thought she wanted to give gravity to her words about Steve. Then she waved at the other five members of their group and, carefully continuing to support the myth that the other women were married, resumed, “I and my fellow captives, Mrs. Linda Simons, Mark and Wendy McGregor, and Greg and Penny Olson have marched endlessly since we were captured and are all in fear for our own lives. We hope and pray for rescue or ransom…”