J. Wheeler - The Krone Experiment

“Yes, sir, that seems to be the case. When we discovered the site this morning, I took a team for an emergency visit to confirm our suspicions.

“There is a machine in this building,” Isaacs said, using the pointer on the screen, “the details of which we do not understand. But it is of gigantic proportions and appears to have consumed the rock missing from this ridge.” He pointed to the bare patch of mountain top bordering the lab. “That’s about a hundred million tons of rock, and the strong circumstantial evidence is that it was compressed by this machine to produce the black hole.

“We then proceeded to a home that Krone maintains near the lab. We found him in a semi-catatonic state. He attempted to commit suicide about four months ago and has some brain damage. We recovered from his study a set of laboratory notebooks, of which this is one.”

Isaacs stepped around behind Drefke, picked up the lab book from his place and walked half the length of the table to set it by the President’s elbow.

“We haven’t had time to study them, but they seem to contain a complete record of Krone’s experiments that led to the creation of the black hole. There may also be important computer files.”

“It’s burned!” exclaimed the President.

“Yes, unfortunately. A woman who lived with Krone attempted to burn them. It was a ruse on her part to distract us while she smuggled Krone out the back door. Some were badly damaged before we could stop her.”

“She smuggled him out? While you were there?” The President was incredulous. “Where are they now?”

“The woman got away with him, at least temporarily. They’re somewhere in the mountains. We have air and ground search parties after them.”

“Who is this woman?” the Chairman of the NSC inquired.

“Her name is Maria Latvin. She’s apparently a refugee,” Isaacs explained. “From Lithuania. Krone met her in Vienna after she escaped, and she’s been living with him ever since.”

“A plant?” the Chairman asked.

“Not that we can tell,” Isaacs answered. “We’re still looking into her background, but the escape from Czechoslovakia seems genuine enough. It’s in Krone’s character to take up with such a person, to flaunt the possible security risks.”

“Why would she run off with Krone?” the Chairman pressed.

“We haven’t come up with any motive yet.”

The President slumped back in his chair.

“All right, let me summarize this.” He shook his head in dismay. “Krone somehow eats a mountain at government expense and makes a black hole. That black hole punches a hole in this damn Russian carrier?” He looked at Drefke, who nodded his assent. “The Russians from some perverse instinct, which turns out to be right, assume we are at fault, and start our first space war.

“I thought we had everything fought to a standstill up there,” he jerked a thumb at the ceiling, “eyeball to eyeball, and all that, and all of a sudden they don’t just blink, they haul out a baseball bat and crack me upside the head. And turn all our low orbit stuff into a damn shooting gallery with their laser. God knows what else they’ve got in mind.

“Now, Howard,” he turned to look at his Director of Central Intelligence, “you seem to be saying that what’s happened is that the Russians have followed the clues and deduced that we made a black hole there and are more convinced than ever that we’re out to get them.”

Drefke straightened in his chair, his thoughts equally divided between the crisis before them and the years of friendship with the man at the center of the table. Those years would be swept away if he didn’t handle this properly.

“We have no final proof, although we are working through our contacts in the Soviet Union to find out just what they know. The circumstances strongly suggest that they reached the conclusion at virtually the same time we did, that we manufactured a black hole there. Blowing up our nuclear satellite was apparently their way of letting us know that they’re on to us.”

“Mr. President.”

All eyes turned to General Whitehead, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. He was a large man with bristly close-cropped hair and, at this hour, stubble on his stern jaw to match.

“I’ve been out of my element with this black hole stuff, but now we are beginning to get into my territory. As I see it, we need to get the Russians back into their corner while we sort all this out. First of all, we need to make crystal clear to them that they’ve absolutely got to put a cap on any escalation of the current situation. All this skeet shooting they’ve been doing is one thing, but if they so much as scorch a surveillance satellite, they had better put their population on alert. I also recommend we go after that laser again, to give ourselves some breathing room.”

Drefke ignored the General and spoke to the President again.

“The immediate task before us is to defuse the anxiety of the Russians, not to scare them further. I think that candor is the best policy here. I recommend you tell them everything we know, give them all our data and let them reach their own conclusions. Yes, there is a black hole. Yes, it was made at that site,” he gestured at the slide. “That should add to our credibility. We must convince them that it was an accident, not an offensive act.”

“I agree with that sentiment,” the Secretary of the State firmly announced. “Mr. President, the problem we face here is a unique one. We must bear in mind that, although a U.S. Government lab is involved, the threat is a universal one. I believe it is incumbent upon us to share the information we now have not just with the Soviet Union, but with all our major allies, the People’s Republic, and the Third World.”

There were outbursts of protest. The National Security Advisor finally gained the floor.

“Mr. President, I sympathize with the desire of the Secretary for openness and candor, but it seems to me premature to broadcast this problem until we fully understand all the ramifications. At all costs, we must avoid the widespread dissemination of this information and the panic that would ensue.”

“We already know the basic nature of the problem,” protested the Secretary, “and we may very well need to call on the resources of other countries to devise a solution.”

“This country has plenty of resources on its own,” rumbled General Whitehead, “and in any case I don’t like telling the Communists any more than we have to.” He shot a glance at Drefke. “There’s no way they won’t twist this around and throw it in our face, or somehow use it as a lever against us. We should keep the Russians on a short leash and the Chinese should certainly be kept out of it.”

“I don’t disagree that the Chinese have very little to offer us in the current context,” the Secretary appealed to the President, “but for the sake of our future relations with them we must keep them apprised of a problem of this magnitude and of such universal concern. The same argument applies even more strongly to our allies.”

“If these fellows are right,” replied the General, gesturing with a thumb toward Isaacs and Drefke, “we may not need to worry about future relations.”

“And if that is the case,” rebutted the Secretary, “there is certainly no point in maintaining your cold war mentality toward the rest of the world. On the contrary, we can throw out the historical constraints and solicit the aid of the world community to tackle this common menace.”

“Rot!” said the General, heatedly. “If knowledge of this situation becomes widespread, it will just put more pressure on everyone. There will be an every-man-for-himself scramble, and the world political situation will go to hell in a handbasket.”