Bose’s
grandson.’
Frederick laughed, but not unkindly.
‘Yes, unfortunately, he didn’t inherit his grandfather’s
scientific genes. Ajay’s father was one of my closest friends; we worked
together, for years, on a number of projects. One day, there was a tragic
accident - Ajay must have been seven or eight at the time. The equipment
we were working with malfunctioned, causing a massive radiation leak. I had
just stepped out of the lab to get a coffee, otherwise we would both have
received a fatal dose. By the time we had got our radiation suits on and were
able to go back into the lab, it was too late for Ajay’s father. We managed to
get him into the decontamination chamber but he died on the way to hospital.
Ajay’s mother had died in childbirth and his father was an only child, so
really I was the closest thing he had to a relative.’
By now they had reached the far end of the corridor.
Frederick had paused to finish his story, before swiping his security card to
open another set of frosted glass doors.
It was a hive of activity in the control room; technicians
were monitoring a bank of 46-inch LED screens that covered an entire wall of
the large, rectangular room. Each monitor displayed a different graph or
scrolling set of figures highlighted in either green or red. It reminded Tom of
the images he’d seen as a child of the NASA control centre during the lunar
landings, except this was much more high-tech. The room itself was divided into
four by semi-circular work stations or islets, each housing five consoles and
each one being operated by an individual specialist.
‘As you can see, we are in the middle of testing the
alignment of the proton beams,’ Frederick explained.
‘How many people work at the facility?’ Tom queried.
‘We employ over two and a half thousand full-time and
fifteen hundred part-time staff across the entire complex.’
Tom let out a low whistle.
‘It may sound a lot, but you have to take into consideration
that we are totally self-sufficient, we have our own hospital and fire brigade
on site. We grow most of our own produce, farm our own meat and dairy products,
purify our own water and even generate our own electricity. We are, for all
intents and purposes, a small town unified by a single goal. And you, Tom, are
its new Mayor.’
The gravity of his new position struck home.
‘When you put it like that, it’s quite…’ Tom paused,
searching for the right word.
‘An honour?’ Frederick offered.
‘Daunting, I was going to say.’
Frederick gave a genial laugh. ‘Let me introduce you to your
deputy Mayor.’
They went over to a small syndicate of people huddled around
a conference table in the centre of the room.
‘Apologies if I’m interrupting, but I’d like to introduce
you to Tom Halligan, our new Director General,’ Frederick announced to the
group, resting a hand on Tom’s shoulder.
The gathering turned to face Tom in unison.
‘And this is Dr Deiter Weiss,’ Frederick pointed out the man
in the middle of the huddle. ‘If there’s anything you need to know about the
facility, Deiter’s your man.’
Tom put out his hand to shake Deiter’s. There was a brief
pause and, for a split second, Tom had the uncomfortable feeling that Deiter
was just going to leave Tom with his hand suspended in the air. But then he
moved forward and grasped the outstretched hand in a vice-like grip.
‘It’s a pleasure to be working with you, Professor Halligan.’
Deiter’s face was impassive, but Tom could sense the insincerity in his voice.
‘The pleasure is all mine,’ Tom countered,
emphasising the word ‘pleasure’. Did he spot a flicker of annoyance cross
Deiter’s face? The two pugilists parted, retreating to the safety of their own
corners.
‘Now, if you’ll excuse me,’ continued Frederick, ‘I’ll leave
you in Deiter’s capable care to get you acquainted with the rest of the team. I
shall pick you up at eight and I’ll take you to my most
grandson.’
Frederick laughed, but not unkindly.
‘Yes, unfortunately, he didn’t inherit his grandfather’s
scientific genes. Ajay’s father was one of my closest friends; we worked
together, for years, on a number of projects. One day, there was a tragic
accident - Ajay must have been seven or eight at the time. The equipment
we were working with malfunctioned, causing a massive radiation leak. I had
just stepped out of the lab to get a coffee, otherwise we would both have
received a fatal dose. By the time we had got our radiation suits on and were
able to go back into the lab, it was too late for Ajay’s father. We managed to
get him into the decontamination chamber but he died on the way to hospital.
Ajay’s mother had died in childbirth and his father was an only child, so
really I was the closest thing he had to a relative.’
By now they had reached the far end of the corridor.
Frederick had paused to finish his story, before swiping his security card to
open another set of frosted glass doors.
It was a hive of activity in the control room; technicians
were monitoring a bank of 46-inch LED screens that covered an entire wall of
the large, rectangular room. Each monitor displayed a different graph or
scrolling set of figures highlighted in either green or red. It reminded Tom of
the images he’d seen as a child of the NASA control centre during the lunar
landings, except this was much more high-tech. The room itself was divided into
four by semi-circular work stations or islets, each housing five consoles and
each one being operated by an individual specialist.
‘As you can see, we are in the middle of testing the
alignment of the proton beams,’ Frederick explained.
‘How many people work at the facility?’ Tom queried.
‘We employ over two and a half thousand full-time and
fifteen hundred part-time staff across the entire complex.’
Tom let out a low whistle.
‘It may sound a lot, but you have to take into consideration
that we are totally self-sufficient, we have our own hospital and fire brigade
on site. We grow most of our own produce, farm our own meat and dairy products,
purify our own water and even generate our own electricity. We are, for all
intents and purposes, a small town unified by a single goal. And you, Tom, are
its new Mayor.’
The gravity of his new position struck home.
‘When you put it like that, it’s quite…’ Tom paused,
searching for the right word.
‘An honour?’ Frederick offered.
‘Daunting, I was going to say.’
Frederick gave a genial laugh. ‘Let me introduce you to your
deputy Mayor.’
They went over to a small syndicate of people huddled around
a conference table in the centre of the room.
‘Apologies if I’m interrupting, but I’d like to introduce
you to Tom Halligan, our new Director General,’ Frederick announced to the
group, resting a hand on Tom’s shoulder.
The gathering turned to face Tom in unison.
‘And this is Dr Deiter Weiss,’ Frederick pointed out the man
in the middle of the huddle. ‘If there’s anything you need to know about the
facility, Deiter’s your man.’
Tom put out his hand to shake Deiter’s. There was a brief
pause and, for a split second, Tom had the uncomfortable feeling that Deiter
was just going to leave Tom with his hand suspended in the air. But then he
moved forward and grasped the outstretched hand in a vice-like grip.
‘It’s a pleasure to be working with you, Professor Halligan.’
Deiter’s face was impassive, but Tom could sense the insincerity in his voice.
‘The pleasure is all mine,’ Tom countered,
emphasising the word ‘pleasure’. Did he spot a flicker of annoyance cross
Deiter’s face? The two pugilists parted, retreating to the safety of their own
corners.
‘Now, if you’ll excuse me,’ continued Frederick, ‘I’ll leave
you in Deiter’s capable care to get you acquainted with the rest of the team. I
shall pick you up at eight and I’ll take you to my most
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