The God Particle (10 page)

‘Could we have predicted this happening?’

‘Earthquakes, by their nature, are very unpredictable. You
never know for sure where the next one will occur. But we have been aware for
some time of the possibility of one occurring again in Istanbul. The city is
situated near the
North Anatolian Fault
, close to the boundary between the
African
and
Eurasian
Plates. This
fault zone, which runs from northern Anatolia to the Sea of Marmara, has been
responsible for several deadly earthquakes throughout the city's history. Among
the most devastating of these was the
1509 earthquake
, which caused a tsunami that broke over the
walls of the city and killed more than 10,000 people. More recently, in 1999,
an earthquake
, with its epicentre in nearby Izmit, left 18,000
people dead, including 1,000 people in Istanbul's suburbs…’

Tom switched off the TV, but the three continued to stare at
the blank screen without saying a word.

It was Ajay who broke the silence. ‘Om Sarva Mangal Manglaye
Shivay Sarvaarth Sadhike Sharanye Trayambake Gauri Narayaani Namostu Te.’

Tom and Serena both turned to look at Ajay.

‘What does that mean, Ajay?’ Tom recognised the words from
the card that was in the flowers on the statue.

‘It’s a prayer to Lord Shiva,’ replied Ajay. ‘It means, O!
the divine couple Shiva Parvati! Thee, the protectors of this universe, along
with Lords Brahma and Vishnu. We pray to you for our well-being, prosperity and
the enlightenment of our souls.’

‘Did you place the flowers on Shiva’s statue?’ Tom asked.

‘Yes,’ Ajay said bashfully, looking down at his feet.

‘But why?’

Ajay didn’t answer, but kept his gaze firmly on the floor.

‘Why, Ajay?’ Tom said, a little more forcefully than he’d
intended.

When Ajay looked up, Tom could see tears welling in his
eyes. ‘I pray to Shiva, to show compassion and restraint.’

‘And you think that Shiva is responsible for this
earthquake?’ Serena said gently, putting her hand on Ajay’s arm to soothe him.

‘I know he is,’ Ajay protested vociferously, taking them
both a little aback. ‘I’ll prove it to you.’ Ajay stood up and walked out
without saying another word.

Frederick had reconvened the meeting in the Bunker a day
earlier than anticipated. He wanted to make sure that, in the unlikely event
they were questioned by the police, they all knew what to say.

He had already found out what had gone wrong with the device
which caused the explosion. But he wanted the person responsible to explain to
the others the circumstances which led to the deaths of two maintenance workers
and left another two in hospital.

He opened the meeting by thanking everybody for making it at
such short notice, before turning to the man on his left to take the floor.

The man played anxiously with his silver-rimmed spectacles.
Beads of perspiration formed on his forehead despite the air conditioning
regulating the temperature of the room at a steady 23°C. He cleared his throat
nervously.

‘I would firstly like to apologise for attracting the
unwanted attention of the authorities, which could potentially put us all in
jeopardy. Secondly, I would like to reassure you that I will do everything in
my power to ensure that the investigation is brought to a swift, innocuous
conclusion. Thirdly, I would like to give you my personal undertaking that
nothing like this will ever happen again.’ Suitably humbled, he took off his
glasses, wiped his brow with a handkerchief, and sat back in his chair.

‘But how did it happen, exactly?’ the only woman in the
group spoke up. She clearly wasn’t going to let him off the hook with just a
grovelling apology.

He returned his glasses to his face and cleared his throat
again. ‘I underestimated the amount of charge required to cause the pipe to
fracture. Luckily, the escaping helium dampened the explosion somewhat, causing
minimal damage.’

‘Apart from the two casualties,’ somebody at the far end of
the table interjected.

‘Yes, the loss of life is very regrettable,’ the
bespectacled man replied. ‘But I don’t need to remind you of what would happen
if the Collider was allowed to discover the God particle.’

‘We are all well aware of the consequences,’ interjected
Frederick. ‘But our code does not permit the loss of life in order to prevent
the God particle from being discovered.’

The man shrank back in his chair, accepting the admonishment.

‘I think the main purpose of this meeting,’ said Frederick,
trying to steer the discussion back on track, ‘is to discuss how our exposure,
following this tragic incident, can be minimised. Our forefathers were forced
to go underground, and it is our legacy to maintain that anonymity until we
achieve our objectives. Having the police crawling all over the facility puts
that at risk.’

‘We need a scapegoat,’ the woman proffered.

Frederick frowned. The idea of implicating an innocent
person didn’t appeal to him, but he knew, deep down, that it made sense.

‘Any other suggestions?’ he looked around the room at the
blank faces staring back at him. No other proposals were forthcoming. ‘Okay,
who do you have in mind?’ he said resignedly.

‘One of the maintenance team,’ a man on his right proposed.

‘No. We need somebody in authority,’ the man with the
spectacles stated. ‘Somebody with access to the plant twenty-four seven.
Somebody who could enter the tunnels without raising suspicion. Somebody who
has a scientific knowledge of how the Collider works but, more importantly, how
it could be stopped.’ He could see the others round the table nodding their
agreement - everyone, apart from Frederick.

Frederick could see where this was going, and he didn’t like
it. ‘You mean, somebody like Tom Halligan? But he’s only been with us two
days.’

‘Exactly why he would be the perfect candidate. He arrives,
and the very next day there’s an explosion,’ the man with the glasses
countered.

‘But what about motive? Surely, that would be the first
thing the police would look for?’ Frederick raised the objection, but he knew
he’d already lost the debate. The others round the table could sense they’d
found their sacrificial lamb.

‘Leave that to me,’ the man replied, taking off his glasses and
wiping his brow again. ‘The fate of one human is inconsequential compared to
the fate of the entire world.’

‘I guess so,’ Frederick conceded, diffidently. He closed the
meeting by thanking everybody again. As they rose to leave, he turned to the
person on his left. ‘I’d like you to stay behind. There are a few things we
need to discuss.’

The others filed out of the room, leaving Frederick alone
with Deiter.

***

‘What do you think that was all about?’ Tom joined Serena on
the couch.

‘I have no idea. I’ve never seen Ajay that agitated before.’

‘I know he’s interested in seismology. Perhaps seeing the
aftermath of that quake in Turkey has brought the reality home to him.’

‘We were all upset by the images, Tom,’ she replied. ‘But it
doesn’t account for his belief that some Indian deity is responsible for
causing it.’

‘True. Perhaps we should…’

The door to Tom’s apartment flew open and Ajay rushed back
into the room. He was carrying a red leather-bound folder with the initials
E.J.M. embossed in gilt on the front. He handed it to Tom.

‘Where did you get this from?’ Tom asked, noticing the gold
letters.

‘It was Professor Morantz’s. I found it over there, when I
discovered his body, so I took it for safekeeping.’ Ajay pointed to the small
table in the corner of the room.

Tom opened the binder to read its contents. The document was
divided into five sections, each marked with a different date. Within each
section were pages and pages of statistics, all time-coded by hour, minute and
second.

‘What do these figures mean?’ Tom shared the file across his
and Serena’s laps.

‘They appear to be data readings from the Collider, going
back to when it was first operational,’ Serena replied, staring quizzically at
the pages.

Tom thumbed through the file.

‘Look, he’s circled some of the readings in red. What do
they signify?’

‘Those are the electromagnetic radiation readings,’ replied
Serena. ‘It looks like he’s highlighted the times when they reached a peak.’

‘He’s also scribbled some notes in the margin next to them,’
Tom observed. He read the first one aloud. ‘Sichuan, China, twelfth of May,
2008. Richter scale, eight. Eighty-three thousand, five hundred dead and three
hundred and seventy-five thousand injured.’ He turned to the next section and
found a similar notation by the peak readings. ‘Do you have a pen?’ he asked
Serena, who scrabbled around in her briefcase and managed to find one. He
started to transfer Morantz’s observations onto the last page in the dossier,
which was blank.

Sichuan, China: 12
^th
May 2008. Richter scale –
8.0 / 83,500 dead, 375,000 injured.

Viti Levu, Fiji: 9
^th
November 2009. Richter
scale – 7.7 / 58,000 dead, 170,000 injured.

Haiti, Caribbean: 12
^th
January 2010. Richter
scale – 7.0 / 316,000 dead, 300,000 injured.

Maule, Chile: 27
^th
February 2010. Richter
scale – 8.8 / 44,800 dead, 111,000 injured.

Fukushima, Japan: 11
^th
March 2011. Richter
scale – 9.0 / 550,000 dead, 1.2 million injured.

When he finished writing, he gave a long, low whistle.

‘The dates of these earthquakes match exactly the dates when
the Collider was operational. When did you say the Collider was last out of
action following the leakage incident?’

‘It happened just before I arrived,’ said Serena. ‘So it
would be about February 2010.’

‘And you said that it wasn’t operational for just over a
year, as a result?’

‘Yes, we fired it up again in March 2011.’

‘That tallies.’

‘Are you saying what I think you’re saying?’ Serena turned
to Tom, searching his face for the answer.

‘I’m not sure what I’m saying. But what I
do
know, is
that Morantz thought that the Collider was responsible for causing the deaths
of…’ Tom quickly did the sums in his head. ‘Over a million people, not to
mention whatever the death toll in Istanbul will eventually be.’

‘Shiva is using the Collider as a tool to destroy the
world,’ said Ajay, standing behind them, looking over their shoulders. They had
almost forgotten he was there.

‘Why would Shiva do that?’ Tom asked, trying not to sound
condescending.

‘Because it is written in the scriptures, that when Shiva
performs the Tandav, the cosmic dance of death, at the end of an age, the world
will be destroyed and a new one will be reborn.’

‘And you think that time is now?’

Ajay nodded, solemnly.

‘Do you think Morantz took his own life because he felt
guilty about the earthquakes?’ Serena asked Tom.

‘It doesn’t make sense. Why the hell didn’t he tell somebody
about it?’

‘He was going to,’ Ajay answered. ‘I saw Professor Morantz
the night he died. He came to my room because he wanted to read the cuttings on
my wall. He said he was compiling a file that would prove the Collider was
responsible for causing these earthquakes and he would show it to the
newspapers.’

‘That makes even less sense,’ said Tom. ‘If he was going to
expose the Collider, why would he commit suicide before he’d had a chance to
speak to the press?’

‘Perhaps it wasn’t suicide,’ Serena ventured.

Tom was silent for a while, trying to remember something
that Frederick had told him over dinner. And then it came to him. He repeated
his thoughts out loud.

‘Frederick said that Morantz came to see him the afternoon
he died. He’d told him that they needed to destroy the Collider before it
destroyed the world, and that Deiter knew all about it and was letting it
happen.’

‘So, Deiter could have killed Morantz to stop him going
public?’

‘I don’t like the guy, but I wouldn’t have put him down as a
genocidal manic,’ Tom scoffed.

‘You’re right,’ said Selena closing the file. ‘I think we’re
getting a little carried away with our suppositions, or we’ve drunk too much
red wine. But what do we do now?’

Tom checked his watch. It was two-thirty in the morning.
‘Let’s sleep on it, and in the morning I’ll speak to Frederick. Do you mind if
I hang onto this, Ajay? Incidentally, why haven’t you shown it to anybody else?’

‘I trust only you, Professor, sahib.’

‘What about your father?’

‘I trust only you, Professor, sahib,’ Ajay repeated.

Ajay returned to his room, feeling relieved that he had
given the file to the Professor and was confident the sahib would do the right
thing. He knew, as soon as he’d met him at the airport, that he could trust
him. His assured demeanour, considerate attitude and gracious mannerisms all
indicated that he was a man of integrity.

He regarded himself as a good judge of character, despite
being betrayed by the only other person he’d respected and loved.

Ajay was eight when Frederick applied to the courts in India
to act as guardian for his best friend’s child. With no living relatives and
the only other alternative being an orphanage, it was just a matter of
formality that he was awarded custody. Ajay couldn’t remember much about his
father, but he did keep a photo of him, which Frederick had given him, by his
bedside. The picture was of Ajay, as a boy, sitting on his father’s knee, both
smiling at the camera for posterity. He had mental pictures of his mother from
what Frederick had told him about her, but they were fuzzy and didn’t hold any
sentimental value.

He had grown up in Dusseldorf, where his father had worked
before the accident, moving in with Mr and Mrs Volker following the tragedy.
They were kind to him and eventually he came to accept them as his parents.
Frederick and Irma were unable to conceive a child themselves, so for their part
they treated Ajay like the son they could never have.

Being in a minority of one at school, he was often picked on
and bullied by the other pupils. He found solace in religion, preferring to
learn from the Pandit at the local Hindu temple than his teachers at school.
Frederick had always encouraged him to follow his ancestral creed, in order to
preserve a sense of heritage and cultural roots.

He was fascinated by the folk stories and traditions that
had been passed down through the generations and would often spend any spare
time he had helping out at the temple with the menial chores, just so he could
hear the priest recount some more fables. And that was how he spent his
adolescence; whilst his peers were discovering the vices of drink, drugs and
girls, Ajay would be learning the Vedic Texts, the most ancient religious
teachings which define ‘truth’ for Hindus.

At the age of 16, he had given up on school altogether and
spent his days shadowing the priest, whom he had become close to over the
years. He even considered devoting his life to the faith and becoming a Brahmin
or teacher of scriptures, like his mentor, until it was explained to him that
he didn’t come from the right caste and, therefore, would never be accepted as
a priest. This rocked his conviction somewhat and he began to spend less and
less time at the temple and more and more time moping in his bedroom, which led
to the inevitable clashes with his parents.

Without any job prospects, he fell in with the wrong crowd
and discovered the vices that he’d missed out on while growing up, namely drink
and drugs. Unable to afford either habit, he reverted to stealing, firstly from
his parents and then, as the habits took hold, from houses. He was arrested for
burglary, after someone recognised him whilst leaving a house by the window,
and he was sentenced to two years in prison suspended for a year on the
condition that he sought professional help for his addictions.

That was when Fredrick thought that a change of scenery
would do them all a world of good and accepted a position on the CERN council,
which meant moving to Switzerland. Ajay’s initial experience of his new country
was from the inside of the Geneva Rehabilitation Centre, where he spent the
first six months getting clean. He left the clinic looking healthier than he
had done in a long while, with a determination to get his life back on track.

Frederick found him a job at CERN, after pulling a few
strings, and set him up in the accommodation block to give him a sense of
autonomy; however, in reality, he had asked the night porter to keep an eye on
him and inform him if Ajay received any guests or was seen going out late at
night. To Frederick’s relief, over the next four years there had been nothing
to report.

Ajay enjoyed his newfound independence but would always
visit his parents at the weekend, when they would spend their time together on
trips into the countryside, visiting the surrounding villages or boating on the
lake. Ajay felt that he was now closer to his parents than he’d ever been and,
with a regular wage coming in, he could afford to treat them to the odd meal or
present.

He loved his job. He didn’t have an official title, but
everybody knew that he was the general dogsbody. Ajay didn’t mind his lowly
position, however, because it gave him the opportunity to meet so many
different people. He would load boxes, deliver mail, organise refreshments for
meetings, ferry people to and from the airport, deputise for reception staff –
every day was different and every day would bring him into contact with a new
set of employees who were always friendly towards him.

He did have his favourite; the girls in the canteen would
always tease him, making him blush, but there was one girl in particular that
had caught his eye. She was quieter than the others and didn’t join in the
banter, but would always give him a radiant smile whenever she saw him.

On one occasion, when he was helping to unload a delivery to
the kitchens, she came out for a cigarette by herself and asked him for a
light. He fumbled around in his pocket, despite knowing that he didn’t have a
lighter on him because he didn’t smoke. When he’d made enough of a show of
trying to find one, he apologised and went back to stacking the boxes. The next
day, armed with two lighters and a carton of cigarettes, he made certain that
he was in the right place when another delivery turned up. And, sure enough,
whilst he was carrying the goods into the kitchen, she came out. Before she’d
had a chance to take a cigarette from her packet, he’d already dropped the two
cases of fish packed in ice and offered her one of his cigarettes.

She smiled coyly at him. ‘Thank you. I didn’t know you
smoked.’

He lit hers and one for himself, suppressing a cough as he
took in the smoke. ‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘but I’m trying to give them up.’

This was, in fact, only the second cigarette he’d tried in
his life. The first one was loaded with skunk, given to him by one of his
depraved ‘friends’ when he’d gone off the rails. On that occasion, he coughed
so much that he thought he would pass out and vowed never to try another,
preferring the simpler-to-ingest cocaine to get his highs.

‘Me too,’ the girl said. ‘It’s a disgusting habit, when you
think about it. My name’s Jasmine, by the way.’

‘Ajay, pleased to meet you.’ He held out his hand for a
formal greeting.

She smiled again and shook his hand gently, feeling a little
embarrassed by the gesture.

‘Have you been here long, Jasmine?’ He liked the sound of
her name when he said it; it suited her delicate features, petite figure and
dark, chocolate-coloured eyes. She wore a none-too-flattering catering hairnet,
but he could tell from her fringe that her hair was black and silky. Her
complexion was lighter than his own, suggesting that her family came from one
of the more northern regions of India.

‘This is only my second month in Geneva,’ she said. ‘My
father got a transfer at work, so our family came with him.’

‘Who does he work for?’

‘The Hinduja Bank in the city.’

‘It must have been difficult for you to leave your home,’
Ajay said, remembering his own immigration. ‘Where did you live before?’

‘My family is originally from Kashmir, but we’ve moved
around a lot with Dad’s work.’

‘Do you like it here?’

‘The country or the canteen?’ Jasmine asked, smiling.

‘Both.’

‘I like working here because the people are so friendly,’
she replied. ‘But I haven’t seen much of Geneva. We spent the last few weeks in
a hotel while my mother looked for a place for us to live. All our stuff is
being shipped over, so I’m living out of a suitcase at the moment.’

‘I could show you around Geneva, if you like?’ said Ajay
seizing the opportunity to spend more time with this pretty girl.

‘I’d like that,’ she flashed him another smile.

‘Tonight? I could pick you up when you finish work.’

‘Okay, I’ll see you tonight. I must get back to work,
otherwise I’ll be in trouble,’ she said stubbing out her cigarette before
scurrying back inside, leaving Ajay standing there with a big grin on his face.

It was several minutes before he saw the puddle of water
starting to form around his feet from the defrosting ice seeping out of the
boxes he’d discarded earlier. The supplier had finished unloading the rest of
the goods and had driven off without Ajay even noticing. He picked up the fish
and took it into the kitchen, oblivious to the trail of water he was leaving
behind him. His mind was on more important things; he had to ask his father if
he could borrow one of the pool cars for his date that evening.

Frederick was usually to be found somewhere on site.
Although he was President of the Council and could have spent his days pushing
pieces of paper backwards and forwards across a desk, he preferred to take a
hands-on approach by involving himself in the day-to-day running of the
facility. Ajay knew his best bet of tracking him down quickly was to ask one of
the security team that patrolled the premises.

‘Have you seen Herr Volker?’ he asked the first uniformed
guard he saw.

‘I saw him when he arrived this morning,’ replied the man.
‘He went into the main building, but I haven’t seen him since.’

Ajay went to the main reception to ask and was told that
Frederick had left the building about ten minutes ago.

‘Which direction was he heading?’

‘He took one of the golf buggies and drove off left.’

Ajay ran down the stairs and jumped into one of the buggies
parked at the front of the building and set off after him. He had to ask
another two security guards on the way before he was able to spot the white
cart turning into an underground car park in the distance. Ajay had never been
to this area of the compound before; he hadn’t had any need to.

He followed his father through the entrance. As his eyes
became accustomed to the gloom, he could see that the car park was almost
deserted apart from five black Mercedes, the same model as his father’s, parked
side by side along one wall, and two white buggies which were abandoned in
front of the lift. He parked next to the cars and walked back, peering through
the darkness to determine any form of life. It was desolate. As he waited for
the lift to arrive, he wondered what his father could be doing in such a remote
part of the complex and who the other cars belonged to.

He could hear the gentle hum of the electric motors as the
lift made its way to him, but it seemed to take an inordinately long time.
Finally, the doors opened and he stepped in. Not knowing which floor his father
was on, he decided to go through them one at a time and pressed the first floor
button. The journey took a couple of seconds and the doors slid open again to
reveal an empty rectangular office space. The walls had been painted and the
floor tiled, but it was evident from the musty smell that it had never been a
functioning work environment.

He stepped back in the lift and tried the second floor, only
to find it identical to the level below. He got out on the third, which was the
same as the other two, and walked across to one of the windows to look out. He
could see the compound buildings to his right and, to his left, the perimeter,
beyond which were green pastures stretching across the landscape towards the
horizon.

But what struck him as odd was the road that dissected the
fields ending at a barrier in the fence. To the side of it was a small sentry
hut. He cupped his hands around his eyes and pressed his forehead against the
glass to get a better view. He could just make out a figure sitting in the box.
He was dressed in a uniform, but it didn’t look as though it was the same as
the ones the guards wore on the compound.

As he watched, the door to the hut opened and the man
stepped out, stretching his legs. He was clean-shaven, dark-skinned with
tightly-cropped black hair. Ajay could see clearly now his navy blue jacket and
trousers, light blue shirt and matching tie, as opposed to the grey/green
apparel of the CERN security force. But the biggest difference he could see was
what he was carrying over his shoulder; it looked like a machine gun, whereas
the compound’s patrolmen carried hip-holstered hand guns.

Puzzled, he returned to the lift.
If his father wasn’t
here, then where was he?
He did a cursory check of each floor on the way
back to the basement, just in case he’d missed him, although he thought it
unlikely as there were no hidden corners or partitions.

He made his way back to the buggy and was just about to
return to the main building when he heard the electric motors of the lift start
up again. Instinctively, he bolted for one of the dark recesses by the side of
the shaft. He couldn’t work out what had spooked him; perhaps it was the
heavily-armed security presence, or the derelict building itself. But either
way, he got the distinct impression that he was trespassing.

He heard the doors open, followed by the voices of several
people. From his vantage point, he could see them getting into their cars,
their breath condensing in the chilled air as they said their goodbyes. Four
men and one woman started their engines, demisted their windscreens and drove
out in an orderly fashion. He was about to run across to his buggy, when the
lift doors opened again; this time, he recognised the voices of his father and
Deiter Weiss. He wanted to emerge from his hiding place and speak to them, but
he thought they might think he was spying on them. No, he would remain where he
was until they’d gone and choose his moment to ask his father about the
building later.