As Dr. Zinkus led her into his office, Jane struggled to suppress the darkness of the last month.
“We’ve missed you Jane.” Dr. Zinkus motioned for his grad student to sit. He worried enough for Jane to take the meeting, but he still dreaded talking to her. “Spending more time with little Oliver? How’s Danny?”
“Both are fine,” Jane guessed. There wouldn’t be any benefit to her cause if she mentioned her divorce with Danny. Not seeing Oliver for so long was killing her though. There would be time enough to fix her relationships after today - if it went well.
Jane shuffled into the folding chair across from her advisor’s desk. Throughout the space, Zinkus kept a cluttering of paper stacks. She had to hold her large three ring binder vertical on her lap. On her right, the wall was lined with pictures of famous scientists. A shelf filled with old textbooks dug into Jane’s left side. Between the books, there was a browning bamboo plant.
“So,” Zinkus asked, “what can I do for you?”
She watched as Zinkus closed the door and then slipped into the chair on the other side of his desk. He sat with his back to the door. Jane noted that for such an expensive facility, it’s amazing how little office space they allocated for the project director. She let her purse, and the weapon inside, sit safely between her feet.
“Before they detonated the bomb at trinity,” doctoral candidate Jane Avery stated, “they were worried they may ignite the atmosphere.”
Zinkus let a weak, patronizing smile leak from his face. He was well experienced in the language of arrogant grad students – catastrophizing and emotional.
“Ahh, you are referring to that whole thing about the bomb starting a self-perpetuating chain of nitrogen fusion?”
“Exactly,” Jane perked up at his seemingly positive response, “the conditions created when they detonated the bomb would never occur naturally in billions of years.”
“An interesting story.” He began to look down at the calendar app opened on his monitor.
He was losing interest. She had to be more direct.
“Dr Zinkus.” Jane hesitated and collected her courage.” I think we may be facing a similar situation with the experiment you are running tomorrow.”
His eyes returned to hers and his smile dipped into a frown. Was she really bringing up that whole thing again? Eventually, he shook his head. “Jane, I thought we came to an understanding.”
“Please just give me a chance.” Jane began to skim through the binder she had prepared. “We are shooting the heaviest nuclei into the target yet – Terbium 159.”
“All things I know.” He dismissed. “Just get to the point.”
“The point is that I’ve been rerunning calculations and…”
The door to the office opened, and Zinkus’ secretary entered the room with a new stack of papers and a coffee. Even accounting for how much younger the undergraduate student was, Jane never could relate much to her. Caroline always struck Jane as the kind of girl that watched too much reality television.
“Hello Jane,” Caroline gleamed, “How’s little Ollie doing? He’s turning five soon right?”
“He’s doing great,” Jane lied again. She had not seen the boy in many weeks. “He’s turning four next month.”
“They grow up so fast,” Caroline smiled warmly.
Reaching out, Zinkus took the coffee from Caroline. The secretary placed the new papers perpendicular to an arbitrary stack on his desk. “Thank you dear.” While he took a sip, she turned to leave. Zinkus suddenly realized that perhaps he could salvage something from the meeting. “Actually can you stay Caroline? This might be a good opportunity for you to learn more about our work.” Zinkus motioned for Jane to continue speaking.
Jane was annoyed, but she decided to continue her mission. “I worry about what happens when we reach the second island.”
“Second island?” Caroline interrupted.
“Caroline sweetheart,” Zinkus clarified, “you know how we are creating new elements here at the lab by smashing smaller ones together?” Caroline nodded. Zinkus smiled in appreciation of his captured audience and continued, “and how all the elements we create are so unstable they don’t even last a second before decaying?”
Caroline again nodded her head. She had been paying attention.
“What Mrs. Avery here is saying,” Zinkus emphasized that she was not yet a PhD, “is that our experiment tomorrow might actually produce a new element that is much more stable.”
“Oooh,” Caroline smiled, “that’s good news then!”
“No.” Jane was not here for a science lesson. “It’s not good. It will be little more stable, but it also won’t decay in the regular alpha-beta decay chain.”
“Umm,” Caroline looked to her boss for help.
Zinkus loved to lecture. It had been years since he taught a class, but he still had the knack for it. “Whenever an unstable element decays,” he explained, “it will shed some of its protons to become a smaller, more stable element.”
“Right!” Caroline perked up. “That’s the alpha and beta particles!”
“Good!” Zinkus patted Caroline’s hand. “Now you get it.”
“Sir,” Jane interrupted, “please just let me show you some of these charts I’ve compiled.”
Zinkus looked at Caroline as to suggest neither should take what Jane said next seriously.
“Here I’ve been conducting computer simulations of what happens to the fused nuclei.” Jane pointed to one figure. After a second, she flipped to the next page. “And here, we can see how the models predict a previously unknown decay mechanism.”
“Slow down.” Zinkus urged. He noticed dark circles below Jane’s eyes. “What does this all mean?”
“What it means,” Jane collected herself, “is I can prove that these decay chains will create H-E matter.”
He rolled his eyes. “Of course, the high-entropy matter thing.” Dr. Zinkus realized that he was yet again repeating that conversation he had won two months prior.
“What’s high-entropy matter?” Caroline inquired.
“The funny thing is,” Zinkus chuckled, “I am not too sure either.”
She’d have to explain her idea to this man yet again. Thinking, she dediced that she could use a metaphor. “I don’t have to explain.” Jane Looked over the messy desk in front of her. “I can show you.”
She found a shallow mug with a dried clump of coffee, or maybe tea, and placed it at the edge of the desk. Retrieving a small and round stone from the base of the sad bamboo plant, she dropped it inside the cup.
“The stone,” Jane motioned, “is like an atom.” She moved the mug slightly to show how the stone would warble inside. “The cup is like the energy states of the atom.”
Caroline nodded her head, but a bit less confident than before.
“If we give the atom a kick of energy,” Jane gave the mug a stiff shake, “the stone will move about, but it will eventually settle on the bottom.” She stopped shaking, and the stone came to a stop as expected. “Matter wants to get the lowest energy state it can. It wants to go even lower than the mug, but the walls stop it.”
“Very cute,” Zinkus contributed.
“But,” Jane continued, “if we give it enough energy.” Jane started shaking the mug much more vigorously. “It will eventually leave the cup.” The stone leapt over the edge and shot off violently into a dark corner of the room. Both Caroline and Dr. Zinkus flinched.
“Jane!” Zinkus reacted.
“Sorry.” Jane removed her hand from the mug.
“So what happens to the stone, or atom, when it leaves the cup?” Caroline asked.
Dr. Zinkus let out a small chuckle. “Thank you Caroline.” He motioned at the wrong stack of papers. “I will take a look at these later.”
Caroline acknowledged the order and then slipped out of the room. After the door closed, Jane turned her binder to the first page.
“Jane, we talked about this already. It was at best theoretical then, and it’s still theoretical now.”
“No.” She had him right where she wanted. “With the new data from the last few runs.” She flipped to the third and fourth pages of her still opened binder. “I now have the data to back my computer model. This is proof.”
“I really can’t do this today.” Tired already, Zinkus rubbed his cheeks with both hands. “You’re extrapolating from almost nothing.”
“Sir, it is too dangerous to proceed.”
“We can simply turn the experiment on and see if your high-entropy matter pops out.”
“That’s EXACTLY what WE NEED TO AVOID!” She shouted.
“Jane,” he reassured - pausing for affect. “There is no need to get emotional.”
Jane took a deep breath. She continued, “the high-entropy matter is much more stable than normal atomic structures. The energy released by one atom decaying into H-E is enough to convert its neighbors. Those neighbors will do the same again. Once it starts, the reaction is self perpetuating.”
Dr. Zinkus’ hands were now at his temples. “Jane, there is no observational evidence for what you’re suggesting.”
“If we observe it, it will already be too late.” Jane flipped to the next page in her binder. “The collection of HE matter will grow exponentially until it engulfs the entire planet - from the edge of the atmosphere to its core. Furthermore, the process will release an enormous amount of energy. Almost ninety percent of the Earth’s mass will be lost in this way.”
“The… entire planet?” Now he was leaning back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling.
“I believe the cloud of H-E particles will begin to expand at near the speed of light. It will collide with the moon in a second, the nearby planets in a few minutes, and the sun in eight. The H-E matter will then convert those bodies into more H-E matter. The process repeating itself until the entire solar system is an expanding cloud.”
This speech was much more dramatic then the last one he had heard. Zinkus lifted his feet on to the desk and then reached for his coffee. “So that’s it then? The entire solar system is destroyed?”
“No, the cloud will be traveling fast enough - almost the speed of light - that it will eventually engulf nearby stars. Those stars then react much like our sun and begin spreading the poison again. Within a hundred thousand years, the entire galaxy will become an expanding cloud of H-E matter. After that, I would only be guessing.”
“Guessing?” Zinkus started laughing uncontrollably. “Us lowly scientists can destroy the entire galaxy with a couple dozen million dollars of lab equipment and materials?” He dropped his feet to the floor. Like a heckler at a comedy club, he began knocking his fist on the desk. “This has to be the dumbest thing I’ve heard in my entire career.”
“Please, if you just read my binder…”
“And I was around during that whole Victor Ninov fallout!” He was chuckling still, but only to himself.
Jane knew then he would not be convinced. She just didn’t know why.
“Look,” Zinkus explained as he got up from his seat, “you’re a good kid with a promising career. What happened to that thesis proposal you were working on? That was real science, not this fanciful crap about E-H matter.” He intentionally swapped the letters to belittle the idea.
Scooting around the junk on the floor, he sat at the edge of his desk nearest and leaned above Jane. Although he didn’t mean to, Jane felt intimidated. It did give him satisfaction seeing her squirm slightly.
“There is still reason to delay and confirm.” Jane felt the situation slipping from her. If this man went through with his experiment, none of the sacrifice she made would amount to anything. The loss of reputation, her estrangement from her husband and child, the divorce - it was all weighing on her. She would have to pivot to the next plan. “We can take a week or two to confirm or disprove my work and then proceed cautiously.”
“The thing about the Manhattan project”, he diverted, “was that they were never truly worried about igniting the atmosphere.” Dr. Zinkus was in lecture mode again. “The guy made a bunch of assumptions and added a few safety margins to get to the apocalypse.” He took another sip of coffee and then placed the mug down behind him. “The whole thing was the concern of one guy doing physics with an engineer’s tolerance.”
“But they still took it seriously enough to investigate,” Jane argued, “no one is taking what I am saying serious.” She hadn’t known it bothered her so much until she said it out loud.
“Because Jane,” Zinkus consoled, “every time we hear about it there’s some new layer of…”, he kept himself from saying insanity, “stuff… that you’ve piled on. First it was about energy release, now it’s some apocalyptic scenario on the scale of the universe.”
“Please,” Jane implored, “all I’m asking for is a week and a small team to run the numbers independently.”
“Do you have any idea how much pausing would cost? We’d lose our turn for beam time. We’d be placed at the back of the line.”
“My uncle is on the board,” Jane pleaded, “maybe I can talk to him about scheduling?”
Zinkus tensed up. Despite her unapproved sabbatical, her uncle protected Jane. Zinkus could neither fire, nor transfer her. “The daily operations of the lab are controlled by management, not the board,” Zinkus clarified.
“I’m just saying.” She chose her words carefully. “Maybe I can get him to support the project with more… resources. If we wait a little bit longer.”
The Doctor scoffed at the obvious bribe. “Money is not my problem Jane.” He talked to her now as if he was scolding a child who had forgotten to brush her teeth. “I need time. If we wait another week, that gives the Russian team a chance to catch up.”
Jane knew the Russian team had no chance. They were underfunded and years behind. Even so, Zinkus kept that old cold-war era mistrust. He seemed eager to overestimate their capabilities.
“Let me tell you a story Jane,” Zinkus monologued, “about when I had this idea that just wouldn’t work.”
Jane knew then she had failed to convince him. She dipped her head in shame. Whenever he started on a story like that, he expected all ears. She had spent a lot of time preparing her argument. A few favors called in to get computer time for her simulations, some pleading with old friends for data to back up her claims. After Zinkus publicly rejected her ideas, they offered their help more out of pity than a genuine sense of scientific discovery. Maybe it was all for waste.
“…for this crummy old chalkboard,” Zinkus chuckled, “cause I kept running out of space and…”
She had a list of alternative plans. She rejected seduction because she thought the strength of her arguments would suffice. It was too late to play that card now anyways. She didn’t have the time, nor did she really desire to go down that path.
“And all my friends would tease me,” Zinkus reminisced, “they had this funny name…”
She could get angry, but what could a tantrum accomplish? Her uncle listened to her, but even he was more concerned with placing Jane in therapy than in what she had to say.
“Of course,” Zinkus sniffled, “she broke up with me.”
She could always drop down into the basement to destroy the device, but she knew it would only delay the inevitable. She would be caught and labeled crazy or suffering from hysteria. Zinkus would shake the money out between some couch cushions in a government grant somewhere. In a few months to a year, the experiment would be back on. Her reputation shattered, she’d lose access to the building and the lab. What could she do then?
“…I spent so much time on that chalkboard,” Zinkus continued, “and I could see the math, but it was elusive.”
Jane looked up at him then, he wasn’t looking down at her. The story was all that mattered to him. Jane knew that what this man wanted to do was dangerous. She just couldn’t understand him. Dr. Zinkus was notorious in the field of element synthesis. Why couldn’t he see what was blatant to her?
“I just wanted to get that big break,” Zinkus reminisced, “I needed something that would get attention.”
Like an old fashioned light switch, something in Jane’s brain snapped together. She could feel revelation complete its circuit. She looked back at the photos on the wall. Jane had never paid them much mind, but she saw them now. There was Seaborg, Al Ghiorso, Lise Meitner, and Darleane Hoffman. There were a few others too that she didn’t recognize, but she was sure what connected them all. They were important figureheads in the field of atomic research. They had all been famous element hunters. Some of them even had elements named after them.
“…sometimes it’s putting in the hard ground work that counts,” he lectured.
But it was more than historical prowess, these names meant something to Zinkus. Glancing over her shoulder, Jane’s eyes scanned to the end of the wall. Where the line of famous scientists met its end at the corner, a new and dissimilar portrait continued on the next wall. It was a casual photo of Zinkus himself. That was why he couldn’t see the truth. That’s why he insisted moving ahead as fast as he could.
“Legacy!” Zinkus snapped. He had noticed that Jane’s eyes were wondering away. “Legacy, is all that we leave behind. I realized that one silly obsession ought not derail everything else in my life.”
“I see,” Jane spoke meekly. Not only did she understand why her arguments had fallen short, she also knew at once that this man could not be deterred. There was nothing left to say.
“To be honest Jane,” Zinkus commiserated, “I… we’ve all been worried about you.” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “What you need is to take time to yourself. A vacation. You gotta find that new thing, like I did.”
Helping Jane up, he guided her to the door.
“Jane,” Zinkus concluded, “I am gonna ask Caroline to call you a ride home.”
He opened the door and led her outside.
“We’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow.”
This was it. She had only one option left.
Turning around, she placed her hand into her bag. He was only an arm length away from her. With deep regret and conviction, she spoke.
“I’m sorry.”
Bang.
Caroline began to scream somewhere in the background. Dr. Zinkus stood in shock for a second before looking down at his shirt. There was now a red circle on his chest - and it was growing. Jane’s hand shook inside her purse; there was a smoking hole in the leather. Jane began to shed a tear.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
She had to be sure he was dead. Any other result would be for nothing. She pulled the gun from the hand bag and dropped it to the floor. Shouldering her bag, Jane turned towards the now empty front office. She took one uneven step, but then caught herself.
While Dr. Zinkus laid dead on the floor, doctoral candidate Jane Avery walked into the hall and towards the exit. Like a good mother, she had saved her family. She had saved the universe. The one man that was pushing humanity towards destruction was gone. But she had to be sure.
Walking with confidence, no one stopped her. Jane had the awareness of a crowd gathering behind her somewhere. But by that time, she was already in the elevator. She punched in the lowest button on the panel, and looked out at the office one last time. When the door finally opened, she was in the basement.
A few people looked up and smiled at her. She paid them no mind. She found a wrench left on empty table and took it. Following her plan, she eventually made her way to a door covered in a large death star sticker and the words ‘cyclotron room’. A red light above the door lit up a warning to not enter. This was the right place.
Twisting the handle, she made her way inside. A voice behind Jane asked her what she was doing. There was some sort of commotion back towards the elevator. Someone said the word “security” and then shouted “stop”.
At the end of the snaking corridor of leaded radiation shielding was a large chamber. She could see the ion beam device actively launching a stream of atoms at a target. Without Zinkus, and without this device, maybe humanity would have time to realize what Jane already knew.
It was the best she could hope for.
Jane felt the weight of the wrench in her hand. It was large, yet somehow it was heavier than she’d expected. She lifted it high up above her head. Someone was behind her.
Bang.