Mercury Rises by Robert Kroese Page A

have sucked everything into it from immediate vicinity. This would explain the inverted blast pattern we found, as well as the lack of any glazing or other typical signs of an explosion, such as..."
    He was cut short by the sound of harsh, barking laughter. It was Lubbers. "You're telling me that what caused... this ," he said, gesturing toward the giant crater visible outside, "was a bomb that was so effective it destroyed the evidence of its own explosion ?"
    Kevin leaped to the rescue. "I think that what Mr. Quincy is saying is that theoretically , um."
    Quincy tried again. "It isn't inconceivable that a very high-energy blast, not nuclear because we'd have detected some fallout, but some sort of controlled plasma reaction..."
    "Jesus Christ," spat Lubbers. "I scraped through physics in high school with a C minus and even I know that's bullshit. You guys don't have a damn clue what caused this. A hundred and forty thousand dead, and you don't have a goddamned clue."
    Jacob found himself on his feet, clearing his throat. Suddenly all eyes were on him. Good God, he thought, what am I doing?
    "It wasn't a bomb," he said.
    "'Scuse me?" said Lubbers.
    "I, uh, suspect that it, uh, was not actually a bomb," said Jacob. Great, he thought. I'm turning into, um, Kevin.
    "Not a bomb," chuckled Lubbers. "OK, I'll bite. What was it then? A UFO? Bigfoot? The world's largest Dyson vacuum?"
    The room erupted in laughter.
    Jacob took a deep breath. He stared at his feet because he dared not confront the jeering faces in the room, but spoke clearly, willing each word out of his mouth. "Something like that," he said. "Clearly this... event ...was not caused by any kind of ordinary explosive device. In fact, other than the, uh, sheer devastation, there's no evidence of an explosion at all."
    "No evidence of an explosion," said another voice. "You mean other than the quarter-mile diameter crater in the middle of Anaheim."
    Nervous laughter filled the room.
    Still Jacob did not look up. He went on, "Yes, uh, as I said, no evidence other than the crater. That is, we're assuming it was an explosion because, well, that's the only phenomenon we've ever experienced that is capable of creating a scene remotely like this. But if you look at the scene as its own thing, that is, not as something under the heading of 'blast crater,' you would come to the conclusion that it was caused by something else entirely. Something, uh, not an explosion."
    "Something, uh, not an explosion," repeated Lubbers mockingly. "Can you be just a little bit more specific?"
    "I believe I can," said Jacob. He took a deep breath and looked Deputy Assistant Director Lubbers straight in the eye. "I believe what caused this," he said, "was an implosion . Rather than exploding outward, the device---call it an anti-bomb---sucked Anaheim Stadium into it. It imploded the whole area. "
    "Imploded?" said Quincy, doubtfully. "That's impossible. And even if there were such a device, which we know there isn't, where did everything go? Where did a hundred and forty thousand people and five thousand tons of earth and concrete disappear to?"
    "Well," replied Jacob nervously. "It's impossible to say. Outer space, maybe."
    "Are you shitting me, Slater?" growled Lubbers. "Anaheim Stadium was sucked into outer fucking space?"
    "Not necessarily," answered Jacob hurriedly. "That's one possibility. But to remove that much matter that quickly would require some kind of rift in space-time itself, some kind of wormhole or portal. The other end of the portal might open somewhere in deep space, but it could just as well open into another dimension. Once you've established the possibility of a rift in space-time, there's really no limit to..." Jacob broke off, having come to the uncomfortable realization that everyone in the room, including his "teammates" in the blast group, thought he was crazy. It didn't matter what he said at this point; no one was going to hear him. He might just as well be talking