Bauer’s eyes narrowed as he stared down at the dead man. “It means our traitor is going to make his move very soon… and we have to be ready.”
7. THE FOLLOWING TAKES PLACE BETWEEN THE HOURS OF 6 P.M. AND 7 P.M. PACIFIC DAYLIGHT TIME
Megan Reed led Palmer to the tent erected less than fifty feet from the microwave tower. As soon as he entered, he felt a cool blast of air, heard the whine of a cooling unit. While he watched, the tent flaps were lowered, completely blocking the sun’s rays. Palmer’s eyes were immediately drawn to a bank of six high definition screens. One screen focused on the microwave tower. Four other screens displayed close up, real time images of the animals inside their cages. The last screen projected four fluctuating lines resembling the scribbles made on paper by a seismograph.
“Those are the electroencephalograms of the male and female Rhesus Macaque,” Dr. Reed explained.
Dr. Toth jumped into the conversation, sounding like a college professor. “You see, Senator, the resulting EEG will allow us to gross correlate brain activity. Through the electrodes implanted in the monkeys skulls, we can detect changes in electrical activity in the brain very accurately — on a millisecond level, in fact.”
“Power levels?” Dr. Bascomb called from behind his control station.
“Stabilized on maximum output,” Tony replied.
“Then we’re ready,” Bascomb announced. “Prepare for two, one-second bursts at the count of ten.”
“Should I brace myself or something?” Senator Palmer asked, eyeing the canvas walls nervously. “This tent isn’t exactly a bomb shelter.”
Megan Reed chuckled. “The microwaves are invisible, so there’s nothing to feel or hear. And the beams are directed to strike the animal cages within the target perimeter.” She tapped the screen with a manicured fingernail. “Only the ground inside that staked out square will be affected. Within these yellow markers you see here…”
Palmer watched Bascomb grip a switch. “Burst one,” he cried, flipping the switch, then immediately turning it again.
“Second burst in ten seconds,” Bascomb warned. At the count of ten he flipped the switch again — on, then off.
“Power down,” Bascomb commanded. “Demonstration concluded at eighteen hundred hours, four minutes…”
Tony tapped the keys on his laptop and disengaged the power generator from the microwave emitter. Steve Sable pulled a tent flap aside and disconnected the power coupler — a move that was like throwing the safety on a handgun. There was no way the microwave emitter could discharge now — even accidentally.
The Senator only realized the demonstration was over when he found himself in the middle of a sudden crush, as everyone inside the cramped tent moved forward to peer at the images on the high definition screens. Palmer got a good look at one of the display screens — a close up shot of a Rhesus monkey. The creature’s eyes were wide, but seemed unfocused — almost cross-eyed. When the primate shook its head to clear its vision, violent tremors wracked its body. Breathing became rapid, then erratic. Foam flecked the ape’s pink lips and drool rolled down the side of its mouth.
Megan Reed stepped in front of the display. Blocking his view, she directed Palmer’s attention to the waves running horizontally across the EEG monitor.
“You can see that the Gamma rays are off the chart,” the woman said over the excited voices of her staff members. “We’re seeing sharp waves, spikes…. The female is especially affected. She’s exhibiting the same spike- and-wave complexes we observe in cases of human epilepsy. Both primates are completely immobilized. Released from their bonds, they would be unable to stand or even sit up without support.”
“What exactly happened?” Palmer asked.
“It’s very simple to put in laymen’s terms,” Dr. Toth said. “The motor cortex is a general term that describes several regions of the cerebral cortex. The motor cortex is that part of our brains involved in the planning, control and execution of voluntary motor functions.”
“Yes,” Bascomb said, nodding. “The primary motor cortex is responsible for generating neural impulses that control movement. Then there’s the premotor cortex and the supplementary motor area—”
“Too technical, Phillip,” Toth protested. “In laymen’s terms, we know that electrical impulses generated by the motor cortex control voluntary movement. What the Malignant Wave device does is scramble those electronic signals, throwing the entire brain into chaos—”
“You see, the Malignant Wave induces a kind of instantaneous multiple sclerosis in those exposed to its waves, but without the multiple scars — or scleroses— found on the myelin sheaths of the victims,” Dr. Reed declared. “In fact, there is no visible physical trauma caused by the wave device, even on a microscopic level. Only the electrical functions are scrambled.”
Palmer glanced at another monitor, this one displaying the pigs in their cage. The creatures twitched and rolled in their own feces. When they attempted to stand, their flanks twitched and their limbs shook violently.
“The pigs have fouled their cages,” Palmer noted.
Dr. Reed nodded, smiling. “Bowel and bladder control is
Dr. Toth lifted a tent flap and gestured to a pair of men in spotless white lab coats. As one, the duo moved toward the cages. Palmer noticed the technicians were carrying hypodermic injector guns.
“Those two men?” he asked. “Are they going to administer some sort of sedative, or perhaps the antidote? When do the waves’ effects wear off?”
Dr. Bascomb looked away. Dr. Reed cleared her throat, then spoke. “Senator, those men are going to euthanize the animals. There is no antidote to the Malignant Wave effect, nor does it wear off.”
Palmer turned away from the ghastly scene, faced the woman. He seemed to tremble with barely contained anger. When he spoke, Palmer’s voice was a low, threatening rumble.
“Malignant Wave is supposed to be a non-lethal weapon system, Dr. Reed. That’s what the committee was promised.”
“Yes… Well,” she stammered. “As I said, there is no physical trauma induced by the waves… Only—”
“Only you render the victim helpless. Unable to control its most basic bodily functions — forever.”
Megan Reed blinked. “Of course, Senator. Think of the disruption to the enemy’s ranks on the battlefield, as medics try to administer care to hundreds, perhaps thousands of soldiers so afflicted. The drain on the enemy’s resources would be catastrophic. In the end, they would be forced to resort to euthanasia, if only to be merciful. The enemy would have to kill their own troops! Think of the effect such dire measures would have on their morale. ”
Senator Palmer shook his head.
“No,” he declared. “I refuse to consider your logic. It is too terrible to contemplate. Malignant Wave is not non-lethal technology, despite what you say, Dr. Reed. In truth your team’s invention is one of the most vile and hateful methods of execution I’ve ever witnessed.”
Dr. Bascomb rose, faced the Senator. “But, surely you see the value of such technology?”
“Value! In this, this… abomination?” Palmer cried. “We asked for a new type of non-lethal technology. Instead, you’ve invented nothing more than a diabolical new weapon of mass destruction. Can you imagine this weapon in enemy hands? If we allowed this program to go forward to deployment, we would unleash a new arms race.”
Once again, Senator Palmer shook his head. “If you think I or anyone on my committee will endorse such a weapon, you are sorely mistaken.”
Palmer spied Corporal Stratowski lurking in a corner. “Corporal, I need to get back to Las Vegas at once. Take me to the airfield,” he commanded.
“Right away, Senator. The Hummer is parked outside.” As Palmer crossed the tent, Megan Reed caught his arm. “Senator, please let me accompany you back to the city,” she pleaded. “I’m sure you’ve gotten the wrong
