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| Lpnet3-100 Day of the Mystikon Chapter 1: The Martian Landlords Chapter 2: The Post Neutronic Era Chapter 3: The NYC and the EMDA Chapter 4: Stranded at Toyland Chapter 5: A Gem for a Raygun Chapter 6: An Isotope for an Engine Chapter 7: A Sublime Portent Chapter 8: A Hard Rain Chapter 9: Against the Wind Chapter 10. The Monster Tank Chapter 11: The Secret Agent Chapter 12: The NDX Unit Chapter 13: Fort Granite Chapter 14: Contact with the Natives |
Day
of the Mystikon
6. An Isotope for an Engine Ron and Al had breakfast in the restaurant and spread the map out on one of the tables. Ron located the nearest industrial park and plotted a course from the shopping center to it. “There’s a big four-wheeler outside in the parking lot,” Al said. “I’ll get it going and pull it around to the docks.” “Do whatever you want,” Ron said, “but I’m using the jetpak to get to the park.” “You’re jet-packing it, alone?” he said, with obvious objection. “Ron, I don’t think that’s a good idea. You don’t know what might be out there.” “Oh, it’s probably just as deserted as this place,” Ron said. “Besides, somebody has to stay with Amalek. Since you don’t know what to look for, that puts me on the move and you holding the fort.” “I don’t like it,” he argued. “Why can’t we camouflage Amalek and both take the 4-wheeler?” “The camouflage might fail,” Ron said. “With EXO and XIK to worry about, we can’t take the chance of them discovering it. If they do, you can use the laser-rifle to defend it and call me on the radio.” He shook his head with disagreement and continued to protest. Finally, Ron laid it heavy on the line. “Al, I realize it’s a dangerous move,” he said. “But under the circumstances, we have no choice. We need Amalek and we need the isotopes. We can’t guard Amalek and get the isotopes without separating.” Ron looked at the map and made some calculations. “The park is only about 10 kilometers west, on the other side of route 91,” he said. “It’ll be a short trip by jetpak. It may take some time to locate the stuff, if they have it contained, if they have it at all. We probably won’t have any problem, at this range, keeping radio contact. I’ll report to you every hour.” Ron finished his coffee, folded the print-out, and tucked it inside his jacket. “What if you run into trouble?” Al said, presuming the worst. “I’ll let you know, but I don’t think you have to worry.” “Well, I’ll get that 4-wheeler going, just in case,” he said. “Don’t forget to call every hour, and let me know if you need me.” Ten minutes later, he helped Ron secure the jetpak on out by the docks, beside Amalek, and stood back as he jetted up and away over the hills and trees, west ward. Ron flew for about 8 minutes at about 75 kph, and sited the wide stretch of park directly ahead. It was an ultra-modern, high-tek park, with plenty of space between structures, sparsely scattered trees, and grassy lawns overgrown with speckles of wildflowers. He landed in the high grass, which probably would have been freshly mowed had it been a regular spring day, and looked at the structures. They were not extremely large factory structures, but moderately-sized, small, privately owned companies which specialized in software, computer parts, and micronic, integrated circuits. He walked to one that displayed the symbol of a universal transistor and several smaller components under it. He spied about with caution, wondering if there was a chance that survivors might be around. If there were any, it was possible it was at places such as these where they might be found. He stopped by a picnic table on a patio, just meters away from a heavy, metal door with one small, wire-meshed window in it, and decided to make a sensory probe. After the sensors told him there was no life about, he opened the visor of the helmet and breathed some fresh air, hoping the sensors were not missing anything. He took the portocom-unit from his belt and probed the structure. It displayed a long list of elements in detection, including a very slight, harmless trace of radioactivity. He sighed with relief and tried to pin it down, but elements of the structure made it difficult. Realizing the potential of the diverse store of elements, higher grade substitutes and tools, he went to the door and tried to open it. It was locked, so he blasted it and opened it. Again, an alarm went off, but this time it wasn’t so easy to locate. About 3 minutes passed with the alarm buzzing through his helmet before he found the security office, and shut it off. He removed the helmet and became shortly shocked to see the uniform of a security guard on the floor, between the desk and the chair, along with a holster and gun, and a few personal items. The white powder, all that remained of the man’s material body, dehydrated base-elements, was scattered around it on the rug, an eerie reminder of the post-neutronic era. He disregarded the remnants and left the office, to search for the vital matter so desperately needed to fix Amalek and leave the vacated space. In a room he found several items that could be helpful, and put them in a bag. One tool, he realized, could be very helpful, but it was a little too big to be carried by jetpak. It was a microscopic laser, the kind used for making extremely small integrated circuits. As he thought of how helpful it could be in refining the internal circuitry of the regulator, Al called over the radio. “Ron, hey Ron,” he said. “Yeah, Al,” he responded, “What is it?” “Just checking,” he said. “How’s it going?” “Alright,” he said. “I’m inside a plant, still looking. I’ll let you know if I find anything.” “Sure, okay,” he said. “Call me on the hour, over.” Ron continued the search, and found a small room full of chemicals, compounds, and elements. He looked over everything and realized it might be possible to construct the regulator crystal right there. After checking the list and the supply of elements, he was sure he could. In fact, he had a better chance in the lab than back at the shopping-center. Before he could be absolutely certain, he needed the isotopes, so continued looking. In an adjoining room, another laboratory with lots of sinks and test-tubes, there was a heavy metal door with the symbol for radioactive matter on it. This had to be it, he knew, and raised the portocom-unit to take a reading. The reading was stronger than before, but still relatively harmless. When he opened the door, however, it would be much higher, since the door and the room behind it was encased in lead. It was probably a security measure required by the law, of course, so he didn’t really know how much of anything there was, until he opened it. He put the helmet on, secured it, closed the visor, and blasted the lack on the door. He opened it, and the red lite appeared on the chin-console, sensing a much higher level of radioactivity. He inspected the metal containers and found a lead box with Cesium-54, a suitable isotope and acceptable substitute for Kylaxeon. He set the box down on a shelf nearest the door and closed it as he left. He rechecked the rad-level, decided it was safe, and removed the helmet. As he looked out the window from the lab and checked the time, he knew he had everything he needed to create the crystal component right where he was. It would take some time to do it properly, but it would be easier by far to do so in the lab than anywhere else. It was still early, not quite 10 am, and it seemed like plenty of time, so he decided to get to work on it. Even if he didn’t complete it today, he could return tomorrow to finish the job. He decided it was the best course of action. The lab had everything he needed. So he gathered all the materials, sat on a bench, and went to work. |
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