Suit Up!

CHAPTER 10

SUIT UP!

“Let me explain how it works.” Skorzenzy picked up the lightweight unit off the console and passed it around so each of the kids could perform a thorough examination.

“The material is a hybrid of Kevlar. It contains the same properties and resilience, yet as you can tell, it is extremely light and malleable. We discovered some time ago, albeit by accident, that Kevlar could be condensed during the polymerization process. Instead of leaving the liquid in hydrochloric acid, we replaced the mixture with acetone and mineral spirits.”

“Professor,” spoke up Abdul. “I don’t mean to interrupt the lecture, but mixing acetone with mineral spirits isn’t going to cause any type of catalytic reaction. Both of the products are bases and inert in their state. The chemicals could never achieve the desired reaction you’re describing.”

“You would be correct, Abdul. By themselves, they just make a rather undesirable soup. However, when mixed with hydrochloric acid, the results were stunning as you can see.”

“Yes, that would answer the catalyst question.” Abdul slowly moved his hands over the suit looking for any flaws from the spinning operation. His touch was soft, yet thorough. “Professor, I’ve noticed something rather odd. Granted, I’m no seamstress, but the suit is void of seams.” The others gathered around looking for telltale signs of threads connecting the arms to the torso, along with the legs connecting to the body. There were none.

“Again, you would be correct and very observant. We developed a process where the entire suit could be spun as a single unit for excellent integrity. A good example of the production process would be a grain silo. Have any of you ever seen one built?” They looked at each other with uncertain eyes.

“As you know, grain dust is highly volatile and flammable. It took decades for farmers to understand why the silos were literally “blowing-up” in front of their eyes. The problem—air was seeping in through the joints of the concrete. Understand, they built them in stages. Air is full of moisture, and it would permeate into the grain and start the fermentation process, which would start releasing gases in the confined space. Opening the doors to the storage bin and introducing fresh air to the pent-up gases would result in a most undesirable and deadly result—explosion. When the problem was identified, silos were built in one continuous pour, thus alleviating and minimizing the invasion of outside air and moisture to settle into the grain. Another device added is a blower. It keeps the moisture in the grain to a minimum, thus thwarting a combustible atmosphere.”

Larry wasn’t as enamored with the agronomy lesson as his compatriots. “Professor, we all appreciate knowing how to build a grain silo. I’m sure with the education we received, it will come in very handy someday. However, it doesn’t address the issue why the suit has no seams.”

Skorzenzy furrowed his brow, holding back his instant anger with Larry’s interruption. Keep it up Larry. Keep it up. I will surely have a surprise when the time is right, and the other three have taken my side. He relaxed his facial muscles and let the anger slip away. “I apologize for getting off point. You see, the forces the TIME SLIP generates is immense. The g-forces have been measured at 20 g.”

“What?” quipped Judith. “Twenty g’s? Nothing can survive that type of pressure. A human body would be atomized and crushed before reaching 12 g’s for a prolonged period of time.”

“You would be quite correct, my dear. The experiments we conducted in Texas showed the same results. The original suits were sewn together with the latest materials available to NASA. They were too large and bulky. Granted, they were a marked improvement over the suits used for the Space Shuttle and Saturn project, but we weren’t satisfied. The suits would disintegrate when bombarded with forces of 12 g and above for over two minutes. The dummies inside the suits fared no better. They were useless and discarded after each test. It was, as I previously mentioned, a stroke of pure luck we came up with a solution. Our goal was to keep the weight of the suit at five pounds while also providing excellent flexibility and fluid movement capabilities.

Funds were rapidly drying up in Texas. The collider project was spinning out of control, and the budget overruns were becoming too large for Washington to overlook. Thus, any purchase of new raw materials was suspended. We worked with what was available. We had nothing to lose. The results were spectacular. The diluted hydrochloric solution increased the strength of the crystallized solution ten-fold and reduced the dried weight ten-fold. We were elated, to say the least. The next step was figuring out how to spin a suit that would be solid. We enlisted an ex-NASA seamstress to join our team. She worked magic in a matter of weeks. We finally had a prototype that met all the requirements. Unfortunately, it would be fifteen years before the suit would be perfected.”

The professor took a breath, studying his students. The science and mechanics behind the manufacturing fascinated them. He could see them all using whatever sciences they studied being put to work as they continued their examination.

“Professor, what is the g-force rating?” queried Judith.

“It has been tested at 25 g’s with no noticeable elongation or deformation.”

“25 g’s? That’s incredible.” Muki and Abdul nodded in agreement. She then asked the real question. “Okay, the suit can take the pressure, but what of the occupant?”

“Again, my dear, you are correct. If you’ll notice, you can just barely discern small threads on the inside of the suit. Yes?”

They had only been examining the exterior of the suit. No one had done a thorough search of the interior. Muki noticed it first. “Yes, it almost feels like fiber optic lines.”

“You would be correct. There are two miles of fiber optic cable woven to the inside of the suit.” Larry’s attention was more concerned with the professor’s motives than his explanations.

“Let me guess; we’re going to call ET?” Before the professor could answer, Abdul interjected.

“Larry, shut the fuck up and let the man speak.” All three stared at Abdul. In all the years of cohabiting and studying, Abdul never raised his voice or showed any sign of an aggressive nature. He always took life in stride and moved along. After all, he was the comic relief the group sorely needed. But this? This was new and unexpected.

“Abdul, I was only pointing out—”

“Shut up, Larry. Hear the man out. This is all making sense a little at a time.”

None of them noticed the small gleam in the professor’s eyes. Excellent. One to go.

“Yes, Larry, may I continue?” inquired the professor. Larry could feel everyone’s eyes boring into the back of his head. Before he could answer, the professor continued.

“Before we were interrupted, I was describing the fiber optics of the suit. If you notice, there is a small pocket sewn on the inside covering the right breast.” Abdul found it.

“A small portable battery pack sits inside the pocket. You will also notice a small lead connection.” Abdul confirmed the professor’s description.

“The battery supplies the power to the fiber optics.” Abdul was confused. Judith was fascinated. Muki was intrigued, and Larry didn’t give a shit.

“Why do you need fiber optics?” asked Muki.

“An excellent question. As Judith pointed out earlier, the immense pressure generated by the machine will crush the human body to pulp. The magnetic field the machine generates is tremendous. We needed to come up with a solution to counteract the field and protect the body.”

“Like a force field of some sort?”

“Correct, Abdul. A force field.”

Muki was grasping the concept. “When power is supplied to the fibers, it creates its own magnetic field. I understand the theory, as we attempted a few minor experiments in the lab, but the results were inconclusive and poor. No matter how strong a battery we used, the experiment failed. Why?”

Skorzenzy knew he almost had number three.

“My child, we too thought it was a matter of power to combat the forces. No, power wasn’t the issue—polarity was.”

“What?” she asked.

“Reverse polarity with a fresh power source is the answer. Most batteries have a positive and negative energy flow. Right? Obviously the answer is yes.

“What happens when you reverse the cables on say, a car?”

Judith knew this one as it had happened during a pit stop in California. “You fry the electronics and wind up with three thousand pounds of scrap metal.”

“You would be correct, Judith. But what if your battery were reversible? What if you eliminated the negative terminal and only used positive energy? Of course, there is still a ground in case of a failure, but the energy is all positive.”

This thinking went against every know principal of electronics Muki had learned and worked with. The idea was absurd, to say the least.

“Professor, excuse me, but that’s impossible. You must have a negative reaction for a positive one.”

“You would be correct, Muki, but you are also incorrect. With common batteries, there must be a definitive flow. If not, batteries lose their power and die over time. Take the Chevy Volt, for example. It was hailed as the gateway to electrical car power. We know how that worked out. It was too expensive to produce and had a very limited driving range. It was a great idea for those with daily commutes of less than twenty miles, but for the rest of the country, it wasn’t a desired option.” Larry was chomping at the bit to interrupt and steer the discussion away from the professor, yet based on his last comment, he decided to remain quiet for the moment.

“The same technology that runs this complex is the same that powers the suit. Fresh, pure, endless energy. Eliminate the negative ions and the power is pure and refined.”

Muki still wasn’t convinced.

“I’m sorry, Professor, it’s not possible. There are always negative and positive ions present. You just can’t whisk them away.”

“What if you could? Let me ask you a question. Are you familiar with the dynamics of electric model trains?” Muki was miffed with this rudimentary question.

“Of course, Professor.”

“Are you familiar with the massive train set in Hamburg, Germany?”

Yes, she was. It was the largest model train set in the world. She remembered the first time she saw the website “Miniatur Wunderland” and was amazed at the technology being implemented.

“Good. Did you know that during one of the exhibitions, two trains collided with each other?”

She wasn’t aware of this minor event, but based on the size of the system, it was a true possibility.

“No, but I could see where it could happen with so many trains moving at one time.”

“True, the accident I’m referring to occurred when two trains collided head on.” He let the words sink in.

“That’s not possible. The engines are set up where one side receives the positive current, and the other the negative. You can reverse the polarity of the tracks, but you can’t change the polarity of the engines. It’s impossible for two trains to move in opposite directions on the same track.”

“That’s what the German engineers concluded. Yet it occurred. The article was published in Modern Electronics ten years ago.” She did remember seeing mention of the incident. It was one of the lesser stories that month. “They never pursued the issue and haven’t had another occurrence. Bottom line—for a few seconds the tracks were charged with only positive energy.”

“Professor, are you suggesting that the freak occurrence of a model train set is the source of the power system for the suit?” Skorzenzy let out a small chuckle.

“In so many words, yes. Obviously, the technology and science are much more elaborate and sophisticated. In principle, the answer is yes. Pure positive virgin energy flows through the fiber optics creating a negative magnetic buffer, thus protecting the user.”

Larry still wasn’t convinced. “Okay, let’s say you’re right. Why wasn’t the chair pulverized?” For once, he didn’t aggravate Skorzenzy with his query.

“A good question. The force from the magnetic field allows the atoms to become one.”

“Like a transporter?”

“Exactly like a transporter, Abdul. When the chair was spinning around, you saw it, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Or did you? Basic physics would dictate that based on the g-forces, the chair should have been crushed, yet it appeared to maintain its molecular structure, or does it? The eyes see what they want to because the mind is not capable of processing the high speed the object moves at.”

“Fascinating. You have built a real-life transporter.”

“Well, yes and no. It will send you back in time to a specific setting, but unlike your favorite show, you must wear the suit if you wish to survive. Maybe in ten or twenty years, we shall be able to eliminate the suit, and reduce the magnetic field generated to allow safe unencumbered time travel. Until then, this will be the model for the future.”

The kids disseminated the new information. There was one more question that needed to be addressed.

Abdul and Muki were now poring over the suit, looking for any minor flaws or inconsistencies. Muki looked up at the professor and asked the obvious question. “Professor, does it work?” Her words were tainted with curiosity. Abdul and Judith directed their attention back to Skorzenzy, awaiting his reply.

Before he could answer, Larry could restrain himself no more. “Sure it does. Didn’t you see that pack of pigs flying yesterday?” His comments were an unwelcomed intrusion to all. In unison, they replied without looking at him. “Shut up Larry!”

Excellent. This is moving along nicely. Now, how shall I remove Larry from the group as his friends willingly assist?

“Of course it works. Let me show you.” Skorzenzy moved to the console and depressed the button marked video feed. The massive screen jumped to life. “Children, you are about to witness what few eyes have seen, and the reason this complex is no longer funded. On March 16, 2015, we performed our first and only experiment with a human subject. We sent Army Captain Julian Christopher back to the Egyptian Empire. We were hoping to recover a few artifacts or pictures to prove how the pyramids were constructed.”

“Professor, we know how they built the pyramids. It’s been well documented through the annals of history,” replied Muki.

“You would be correct. The problem with our history books is exactly that. They are ours. They weren’t written by the men who actually built them. Watch and learn.”

The massive screen came to life revealing the inner sanctums of a room the group hadn’t discovered yet. The moderator’s voice was unmistakably Skorzenzy’s as he addressed the group watching the video.

“Gentlemen, it is with great pleasure and excitement we travel back in time to witness events of the past. Instead of standing here and narrating the entire ten-minute clip, I shall allow Captain Christopher’s words to describe the secrets of ancient Egypt as he cataloged them.”

The screen was filled with the Great Pyramids at Gaza in ancient Egypt, all in a different phase of construction. The picture displayed reminded many of the movies of the ‘50s and ’60s—The Ten Commandments and Cleopatra. It was striking. Hollywood almost got it right without knowing it. The scene was filled with thousands of workers moving the massive granite stones to a specific point. The workers/slaves moved in unison. The only sounds were those of the Egyptian superintendents and foremen barking out orders to their lead men to ensure each stone was properly lined up and set.

“If you notice, the workers do not appear to be in poor health.” He zoomed the camera in. “They appear to be healthy and alert. You will also notice as I pan the camera, the Egyptians are working hand-in-hand with the labor force. This would suggest that even though many of the workers are slaves, they are working as a cohesive force and not as a rabble. I’m now going to show what appears to be the main construction management site.” The camera zoomed onto a tent of one-hundred feet by one-hundred and fifty feet. There were numerous tables filled with charts and maps. The tent was bursting at the seams with management and architectural teams. One could see men coming and going every few minutes with great haste, passing on orders and directions to the men in the field. The events unfolding were no different than a modern construction site. Granted, there was no modern machinery assisting with the tasks—everything was done by manpower.

“As you can see, the ongoing events are similar to a modern construction site. One thing I had noticed before I started filming is the amount of survey crews at work.” The camera panned to six different locations. Men were standing by transits and making notes. Large rolls of woven fabric were at each station. A man would grab the end of the fabric and move as directed by the surveyor to a specific point and stop. The surveyor made a notation and sent the man to the next station.

“As you can see, the fabric is the measuring chain. You will also notice that each survey site is in line with the other. I’m assuming this is for perfect alignment of the structure. I’m also assuming there are similar sites on the opposite side of the structure; which unfortunately I cannot see.” The men in the room nodded in agreement.

“Now, I want you to direct your attention to the stone placement. This is fascinating. Our books have assumed through the years how the stones were handled and placed. Many said the pyramids were initially built oversized, with ramps to allow the stones to be placed. Look again.” The men stared intently as the stone Captain Christopher was focused on was moved and effortlessly slid into place.

You could hear the sound of astonishment from the dignitaries.

“That’s impossible,” said Larry. “Each one of those stones weighs over two tons. There is no way that happened.”

“Really, Larry? Are you suggesting your knowledge of construction procedures is more sophisticated and precise than those of the Egyptians?” Skorzenzy waited for the reply.

Larry fired back. “How do we know this isn’t some staged event? Anyone with an ample budget could have produced this.”

“Really? Keep watching.”

The voice of Captain Christopher came back. “Gentlemen, I’m sure you are as dumbfounded as I am. Instead of seeing the obvious, we overscrutinized the construction procedures. It is time for the historians to rewrite the books concerning pyramid construction.” All heads nodded in agreement.

“I’m sure there will be many men and critics who will put no credence or validity to the filming of this event. That is understandable, and I’m sure you gentlemen will all agree with my deduction. So, in order to add credence to this amazing discovery, I will be returning with a few artifacts to authenticate the journey.” The camera panned towards two items resting on the hard-baked sand—a papyrus drawing showing the dimensions of the stones and a measuring staff. He turned the camera on himself and concluded the brief documentary. “Gentlemen, I can say without a doubt, the machine works. These items I bring back are proof of our venture. I look forward to returning and discussing the finds. Captain Christopher out.”

The lights turned back on. Skorzenzy took his place on the podium. “Gentlemen, it is time to open the champagne and prepare for the arrival of Captain Christopher. General Swanson, I trust you will phone General McCulloch and Senator Hodges with the news?”

Swanson stood up.”Professor, I need to use the secure line and report to General McCulloch.”

“Yes, of course you do. Use the phone in my private office. It is very secure.” The general took his leave to inform Washington of the event.

The screen went blank.

“The rest of the film was inconsequential. When Christopher returned, we were amazed at the artifacts. They were genuine. Unfortunately, the powers in Washington didn’t see it as such. They didn’t grasp the magnitude of the discoveries or how we could implement the technology to help mankind. They hid behind their veils and stopped the funding.”

“Why?” queried Judith.

“They didn’t believe mankind was ready for such knowledge. They were pleased that all the money poured into the project had actually produced positive results, but they weren’t willing to use it for fear of the unknown.” He let the words rest a minute as his students absorbed them. He believed he knew how to completely convince Muki and Abdul this was a good idea. Larry would either join in, or he wouldn’t.

“Imagine making a few minor changes in our most recent history. What would the Middle East look like if Hussein, Mubarak, Arafat, Khomeini and Gaddafi were eliminated? Would there have been coordinated world terrorism? Would the Western world have been held hostage over outrageous oil prices? Would blood have been spilled to keep oil at seventy-five dollars a barrel?” His words were true, and his points were sinking in.

“Countless lives would have been saved,” replied Muki. “Countless. But even if those leaders were eliminated, what guarantee is there that their successors wouldn’t implement the same policies?”

“An excellent question. We would leave a type of calling card to inform those who ascended to the position that if they chose the same path as their predecessors, they would be joining them.”

Judith couldn’t hold back her thoughts any longer. “Enough of the historical debate. I’m convinced the machine works, and require no more explanations. When do we go?”