The Soul of the Matter by Bruce Buff Page A

I’m afraid you may do that to me.”
    â€œYou know that would never happen. I would have to be dead.”
    Looking straight into his eyes, Joanna said, “I hope not. Some people die inside even though they still look alive.”
    â€œI’m all right. Really I am,” Dan protested, though feeling far less sincere than his words.
    â€œThen go to Stephen’s, if for no other reason than as a favor to me,” Joanna commanded.
    Quietly, Dan replied, “Okay, but it’s pointless.”
    â€œWell, you have nothing to lose, and you might even be pleasantly surprised. Then come visit us. It’s been way too long.”
    â€œYes, it has.”
    â€œDan, no matter what, I’ll never let you push me away.”
    â€œI said I’m not going to push anyone away!”
    â€œGood,” Joanna said. “You know you’ve always been a terrific person, loved by everyone, for all the right reasons. I want whatever is bothering you to pass. I want my joyful brother back, for your sake more than mine.”
    â€œI’m still here,” he answered with insufficient conviction.
    â€œI have to go now. Thanks for letting me stop by.”
    â€œYou’re always welcome, even when you’re nagging me,” Dan said, walking her to the door.
    Joanna smiled, then walked down the stairs. Dan closed the door, picked up his phone, and reluctantly texted Stephen, “I’ll be there.”
    Stephen’s reply was nearly instantaneous: “Outstanding. We’re looking forward to it.”
    Unable to avoid the day any further, he left his apartment, descended the stairs, and exited his building. Confusion ruled his mind. The sunlight stabbed at him and almost threw him back inside. He tried to open his eyes, and when he did, everything seemed shadowy. In a world full of colors, he could no longer see even black and white, only muted shades of gray.
    About the only thing he was certain of was that going to Stephen’s for dinner was a bad idea.

Chapter 12
    V iktor walked into the control room. Everyone was already at their stations, waiting expectantly for the experiments to begin.
    The room was about thirty feet wide and twice as long. On the far end were the main consoles, a double row of six large-screen monitors mounted on metal racks, filled with equipment. Large bundles of wires ran in every direction. Down the center of the room, two banks of desks and computers faced each other. More desks and computers spanned the room’s perimeter.
    As planned, there were fewer people than normal occupying the various stations.
    Ravi Kannan sat at the X-ray monitors. Carol Williams looked over the power supply and magnetic fields. Karl Ashford checked the fuel levels. Nicco Pappas manned the computers that calculated the plasma temperatures. A few graduate students were scattered around the room. Sousan stood sentry near the main monitors, where she could view the plasma images and oversee everything and everyone, including Welch, who was standing next to her.
    Viktor ran down the pre-shot checklist with everyone. The reactor room was visually inspected to ensure no one was in it and then the huge concrete and steel reactor room doors were closed. The supercooled magnets were operating within tolerances. The flywheel was fully charged, prepared to let loose a massive burst of electricity through the thick stainless steel bars that ran overhead from the generator into the reactor room.
    Viktor called out, “All right, we’re a go on the baseline shot,” and then started the automated procedure. A computer-generated voicecounted down from ten. Hydrogen gas was injected into the reactor, ionized into plasma, and prepared. If all went as planned, the shot would last fifteen seconds and then be repeated four more times, under increasingly powerful conditions. They would spend the next few days analyzing the results, preparing for the ­critical test next