After a quick lunch in Bishop’s office, Ty retreated to his bedroom.
At the small desk, he sat and read Tanaka’s file again. His father was trying to give him a message with the file. It was there somewhere. Ty just couldn’t see it.
He paced the room, then stretched out on the narrow bed and stared at the mineral fiber ceiling tiles, letting his mind work on the questions that dogged him. He was getting nowhere with Tanaka, so he returned to the desk and read through Nora’s file. Next, he studied the schematics for the quantum radio again, focusing specifically on the twelve symbols around the dial.
What were they?
Star constellations? He felt that was likely. The problem was that they didn’t match the night sky from Earth. At least, not the sky we see today.
Ty saw two possibilities. Either the star constellations were the sky as seen from Earth in the past, or they were the sky as seen from another world.
He leaned back in the chair, turning the two ideas over in his mind. The sky from another world. Or another time. Worlds and time. They were at the center of all of this.
But somehow, his gut told him he was missing something. The worlds and time in the symbols around the radio dial were more than that.
Besides, DARPA had the ability to model the night sky in the past. And the future. Surely they had checked those possibilities.
The quantum radio would be finished tonight. He needed to understand the symbols before then.
There was also another sort of constellation at work: a cluster of related items—Nora, Tanaka, Ty, and an unidentified woman. How were they
related? Instinctively, Ty felt that therein lay the key to unlocking the secrets of the quantum radio.
But there were only four of the genomes. The dial had twelve symbols.
The two numbers—four and twelve—didn’t match. Like his father misquoting Tanaka’s age. Had that been a clue about the quantum radio symbols—and not Tanaka?
Ty closed his eyes. This was driving him crazy.
He glanced back at the file for Tanaka. What was special about him? The man was working on a multivolume book, The March of Humanity: The True History of the Human Race. It promised to present a complete, unbiased history of the world. It was Tanaka’s hobby. His life’s work. His opus. One that would enable humans to understand their journey and place in the world like never before.
Ty had something similar, though in place of history, he had focused on science—physics, specifically. His Theory of Everything was a breakthrough that had the potential to unite the major opposing theories in physics and explain the deepest truths of human existence. He felt that the quantum radio was at the heart of that revelation.
And Nora had a similar pursuit: The Birthright, a revolution in human psychology. Her great work was in psychology and self-development, a unique fusion of medical and psychological insight that would provide a new framework for human happiness and potential.
That was the pattern. Each of them was working on a cornerstone work that could change the future—the entire way people saw the world, the past, and human civilization going forward. They were simply at different corners: history, science, and psychology. What did that portend about the fourth match?
Art.
That was the missing piece, if Ty had to guess.
He stood and paced, willing his mind to connect the dots. His great work: The Theory of Everything.
Tanaka’s: The March of Humanity. Nora’s: The Birthright.
There were twelve symbols on the quantum radio dial. One for every month. That was something.
March.
Birthright.
Theory of Everything.
The words and facts shifted and fit together in his mind like LEGO blocks connecting, building upward.
Ty had never spent much time studying astrology, but he knew it offered a sort of theory of everything, a framework for predicting the future and drawing inferences about the past. Astrological symbols were based on constellations. Maybe the symbols on the radio dial represented some sort of astrological symbols from a long-dead society, some syntax that had been lost forever.
A knock at the door interrupted his thought process. He rose to open it, but it swung inward, revealing Colonel Travis and half a dozen marines.
Ty assumed they were there to take him to see Tanaka, as he had requested. Instead, Travis stepped into the doorway, blocking Ty’s exit.
“There’s been a breach.”
“Breach?” Ty stared at him. “Of what? The building?”
“Comms. Someone is broadcasting from within the security perimeter.
Unauthorized.”
Ty shrugged. “It’s not me.”
“I’m sure it’s not, Dr. Klein.” Travis turned and nodded at a marine who was skinny as a rail. “Sorry about this. But we need to search your room, sir. And you.”
Ty watched as Travis gathered the files, careful to keep them out of sight of the uniformed marines who swept in and ransacked the cramped space, then patted him down, rubbing and pressing into every nook where he might have hidden anything.
When they were satisfied, Travis nodded for them to leave and closed the door.
Ty held his hand out. “I’d like my files back.” Travis handed them over. “Sorry again, sir.”
“I understand. Do you know what was broadcast?” “Yes.”
“And?”
Ty could tell Travis was struggling with what to reveal. “Let’s just say… we may have a problem, sir. But we’re going to deal with it.”
“Well, that makes me feel great.”
Travis opened the door. “Also, we’ve arranged for you to see Lieutenant Tanaka.”
