Graviton

Graviton

Copyright Stephen Clark Reese 2013, 2024

E-book Edition Published by OpenGate Publications

www.opengatepublications.com

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Dedication

To my best friend and wife Cindy, whom without her help and encouragement this book would never have been a reality. Though I try, words can never adequately express how I truly feel.

To the Father of All who makes everything possible.

Philippians 4:13

Acknowledgements

When I started writing Graviton, I struggled with names for my characters. The easiest solution was to borrow names from my past. My intention was to honor the people in my life who influenced me the most. It should also be noted that the characters personalities are in no way a reflection of the personalities of any real people.

Jack Redman and Robert Redman – The names for both Jack and Robert were derived from my late father Jack Robert Reese. My father was not a complicated man, but he worked hard to raise my six siblings and myself. This is how I envisioned Jack in the story, simple yet determined.

Cynthia Dickson – The love interest in the story Cynthia, was named after my wife Cindy whose maiden name is Dickey. She is also a feisty redhead and probably would have made an excellent FBI agent.

Royce Shelton – While this character has a small part in this story, I still wanted to mention him. He was named after Shelby Royce Dickey, my wife’s brother. We have been through many adventures together, so I wanted to include him in this one.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 - Accidental Discovery

Chapter 2 - The Missing Piece of the Puzzle

Chapter 3 - Unexpected Help

Chapter 4 - Deadly Consequences

Chapter 5 - Like Father, Like Son

Chapter 6 - Returning Home

Chapter 7 - One Smooth Ride

Chapter 8 - A New Discovery

Chapter 9 - The Test Pilot

Chapter 10 - A Historic Flight

Chapter 11 – Taken

Chapter 12 – Rescue

Chapter 13 - The Reporters

Chapter 14 - The FBI

Chapter 15 - Dinner at Michelle's

Chapter 16 - Mr. D

Chapter 17 - When Pigs Fly

Chapter 18 – Conclusion

About the Author

Chapter 1 - Accidental Discovery

Early spring in north Texas is almost the perfect time of year. The cold dead winter is replaced with warm breezes, new growth and a feeling that life has started anew. It is a time when man and beast enjoy the sweet air and the feel of the sun. If it were not for the occasional threat of tornadoes and torrential downpours in North Texas, the few weeks before the sun comes out in full force to bake the inhabitants in oppressive heat would be as close to paradise as anyone could hope to find.

While paradise was just outside his door, Jack Redman barely took notice. Inside the shop behind his house, Jack was oblivious of time, obligations or personal needs. His face was covered in three-day growth, his overalls and shirt covered in dirty sweat. Rick Evans found Jack lying on the floor beneath his latest contraption just where he had left him two hours before.

Jack, I thought you were going to take a break. Rick said while setting the box he was carrying on a nearby workbench.

I was, but I wanted to finish this assembly mount.

Rick heard the sound of a wrench clanking on the concrete floor followed by Jack popping out from under his machine. He walked toward the bench and shuffled through the contents of the box. Were you able to find everything?

The salesman at Johnson's Hardware said he's never heard of a clamp like you wanted, but other than that, it's all there. Rick said as he sat down on a nearby stool.

No matter. I didn't think they would have them anyway. Jack said, carrying the box back to the floor where he had been working. I'll get the machine shop at the plant to make what I need.

Jack was the owner of Redman Industries, a manufacturing facility that specialized in building custom containers to customer specification. The plant shipped the containers all over the United States and in some foreign markets. The main plant was on the edge of town and was the third largest employer in the county. A Research and Development facility was on Jack's ranch ten miles outside of town. The R&D building was just over three hundred yards past the house and the shop where Jack was now working.

Jack crawled back under his contraption as Rick stood and walked around the device. It was a wheel of sorts five feet in diameter laid horizontal about three feet off the ground. The device was mounted to an electric motor geared to spin the wheel. Two foot tall, six inch wide and one quarter inch thick metal plates were mounted on the outside of the wheel around the perimeter of half an inch apart. Four stationary poles were positioned around the wheel and an aluminum ring was fastened to the poles creating a ring around the wheel. Plates similar to those on the wheel were to be mounted to the ring.  

Explain to me again what it is we are building. Rick said as he was examining the wheel.

We are building a perpetual motion machine.

Uh huh. Rick stopped and squatted down to look at Jack. And exactly why do we want to build a perpetual motion machine?

The sound of a socket wrench ratcheting echoed off the shop walls.  Because nobody ever built one before, at least not on this scale. They say it can't be done.

Well they should have known better than to tell Jack Redman that something can't be done. What were they thinking?

Yeah, it sounded like a challenge to me too.

Rick threw his hands up. Who am I to argue? So, what do you want me to do next?

If you still have that sketch of the clamp I gave you earlier, you could run it over to the machine shop if you don't mind.

I have it right here. Rick took a folded paper from his pocket and held it up for Jack to see. Just then, there was the sound of tires on gravel and an electric utility cart pulled up in front of the open bay door of the shop. No need, here is Matt now. Rick said, standing to his feet.

Matt Reese was the manager of the R&D plant. Matt was a little on the short side, a little on the heavy side and a lot on the nerdy side, but he was an excellent plant manager. He had been with Jack from the beginning and proved many times to be a hard working, loyal employee.

Matt walked into the shop wearing a white lab coat and pushed his black-framed glasses up on his nose. Rick. Matt said with a simple nod. Where is Jack?

Without a word, Rick pointed under the wheel. Matt bent at the waist with his hands on his knees. Oh my, there you are. We are having trouble with the anti-siphon valve on the new nitrogen tank design. I was wondering if you might look at it when you have time.

Jack crawled out from under the wheel. I'll ride over there with you. We can't afford to get behind on the mock-up. We are supposed to go into production in sixty days.

Jack held several patents for many products used in container manufacturing and the nitrogen anti-siphon valve was just one.  Jack’s father had started the business building trailers while still in high school. After returning from college with a master’s degree in engineering, Jack took the company in a completely different direction.

Jack took the clamp drawing from Rick and headed for the door. Are you coming along? He said to Rick.

Oh yeah, wouldn't miss it. Rick said as he followed. All this talk about anti-siphon valves has made me giddy with excitement.

They piled into the cart and held on for dear life. Matt had a reputation for being dangerous with utility carts. The trio spun around and started toward the R&D building when they spied a young teenage boy walking away from the house. Hold up. Jack said to Matt.

Don't tell me you’re just getting out of bed. Jack said to the teen.

The young man looked like a smaller version of Jack. Same brown hair only longer, same green eyes only not as wise but with a hint of rebellion. He was shorter than Jack's six foot two but only by a couple of inches. He rolled his eyes at Jack’s comment. I've been up for a while. He lied.

What are your plans for the day?

Duh? You’re supposed to take me to the lake to meet my friends.

I'm sorry son, but I'm kind of busy right now. Can you get a ride?

Whatever! The boy shoved his hands in his pockets and sulked back toward the house.

Jack shook his head and turned in his seat to talk to Rick who was sitting in the back holding on to the bars on either side of the cart with both hands. I don't know what is wrong with that boy. If his mother were here she would know how to handle him.

Don't bet on it. Rick said with a death grip on the bars. Robert is acting just like a normal fifteen year old. He'll get over it once he turns thirty or so.

It better be sooner because one of us might not survive that long.

They spent over an hour at the Research and Development building. It didn't take long for Jack to find the problem. The valve they were using was the wrong specs for nitrogen. They spent the rest of the time putting out a half dozen other fires. Rick followed along dutifully, displaying an air of importance and not having a clue what was happening, which was typical Rick, never quite understanding but always willing to jump in with both feet.

Matt gave them a neck breaking, white knuckled ride back to the shop. Jack returned to work on the wheel while Rick sat heavily on the stool near the workbench looking very much like he would vomit. No conversation passed between the two for several minutes, the only sound was the click of the ratchet.

What time is your date tonight? Rick asked when his stomach settled enough to speak.

The sound of the ratchet stopped. Crap! Jack said from under the wheel. I'll have to cancel.

Oh no you don’t! Rick jumped off the stool. Marsha set this up two weeks ago. She said she’d kill me if you didn’t show up.

That hardly seems fair. I don’t show up for a date and you get in trouble with my sister-in-law.

That’s Marsha for you. Besides, she said Tiffany was a great girl.

Jack crawled out from under the wheel. She’s ten years younger than me.

Most men your age would be happy dating a girl ten years younger.

Jack raised an eyebrow. My age?

Our age. Rick corrected. Just go, you might have fun.

If she is so great then why don’t you go out with her?

Because your sister-in-law would skin me alive, that’s why. She's gone to a lot of trouble to put you two together.

Marsha’s bark is bigger than her bite. Jack said, wiping his hands.

So where are you going? Rick asked.

I'm going to get ready. Jack shrugged.

That’s what I thought.

Oh shut up! Jack said with fringed anger. Are you coming back tomorrow? The shop will have the clamps ready by noon. You can help me attach the rest of the plates.

I’ll be here. When do we get to give it a test run?

We’ll make history the day after tomorrow. Jack's statement would prove to be truer than he ever thought possible.

Michelle’s Restaurant was located near the center of town and was the favorite of many of the locals. Jack’s hometown, unlike many small Texas communities, did not thrive on clicks; people separating themselves by class, race or whatever they thought made them superior to others. Subsequently, Michelle’s clientele was a hodgepodge of people of all classes. City council members and city leaders were often seen sitting alongside and many times with factory workers and farmers. Everybody was welcome at Michelle’s, and everyone was made to feel welcome.

Jack sat smiling and nodding at the mindless words coming out of Tiffany’s mouth. Jack listened to her talk about pop singers and movie stars that he had never heard of before. She talked about her old boyfriend, new girlfriends and hated enemies. Jack tried to explain what he did for a living, but her blank expression made him give up and simply say that he builds things.

When Tiffany left to visit the restroom, Sheriff James Parker approached their table. I see you’ve finally decided to start dating again. Parker said with his hand extended. But she looks a little young.

Sheriff James Parker, age sixty-three, was an icon in the community. Very popular to the town’s residents, he had been in the same office for over twenty-five years. He was known for being tough but fair, a quality that sometimes put him in the center of political firestorms, but also helped him to walk away unscathed. He was a big man at six feet four inches. The salt and pepper hair he sported since his forties. Sheriff Parker and his wife Martha had been friends with Jack's family for years. James and Jack’s father were fishing buddies. They comforted Jack when his father died of cancer. Martha spent many hours at the nursing home with Jack's mother before she died of Alzheimer’s. Jack would give his life for the Parker's as they would for him.

Jack took the Sheriff's strong grip. Maybe a bit too young. We don’t seem to have a lot in common.

If you want somebody older, Martha might know some people.

Jack held his hands up. No thank you! I just want to survive this night. Then it’s no more dates for me.

I understand. Sheriff Parker laughed then turned serious. Still, it must be hard for Robert at this age not to have a mother.

It’s tough for both of us. We seem to have a hard time communicating with each other.

Parker glanced toward the back of the restaurant. Seeing Tiffany returning from the restroom, he put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. I’m sure you two will work it out. Enjoy your date, the sheriff left Jack to suffer alone.

Tiffany invited Jack back to her place for coffee, but Jack begged off with the excuse of an early morning. His return home found Robert on the couch playing video games. School was out for spring break leaving Robert with plenty of free time on his hands. He never looked up from his game as Jack walked through the living room into the kitchen.

How was the date? Robert asked.

It went about as well as I expected, Jack said, throwing his keys on the kitchen counter.

Did you get some?

Jack walked into the living room, his mouth open in shock. Excuse me!

I was just joking! Robert shook his head. Geez dad, you need to chill out!

That is not how a fifteen-year-old jokes with his father, Jack shot back.

Well, maybe if you acted like a real father I wouldn’t, Robert threw down the game controller and stormed out of the house.

Robert, get back here now! Jack yelled after him as he slammed the door. Seconds later Jack heard a four-wheeler start up and roar down the road. He waited ten minutes for the call that he knew would come. Whenever Robert got angry, he always made a beeline for his aunt’s home only a few miles away. Jack picked up the phone on the first ring.

What is it this time Jack? Marsha said without a greeting. He stormed in and went into the twin’s room without saying a word.

Same as always, Jack answered. He’s a walking attitude with a smart mouth. I don’t know what to do anymore.

Why don’t you let him spend the night? He can spend the day with us. We’re taking the twins to the mall in Dallas tomorrow. Maybe you two need a break.

Thanks, Marsha. Your sister would be glad to know that you are there for Robert.

Just remember, we are here for both of you.

The next morning Jack was up before the sun after a restless night and spent the morning taking care of his hunting dogs and horses. He had promised to take Robert hunting on Saturday and while he was not sure if the hunt was still on, he wanted to be ready. Rick appeared a few hours later and accompanied Jack again to the R&D building to retrieve the clamps. Thirty minutes later, they were back in the shop attaching plates to the aluminum ring.

As the sun was setting, Jack and Rick were running wires to the plates that would send electric current to each, creating powerful electromagnets. Jack heard the four-wheeler coming down the drive and minutes later, a light came on in the house. That was the only evidence that Robert had come home. Jack never saw him the rest of the night.  Rick agreed to return the next morning for a test of the wheel.

Jack arose early again and headed straight for the shop. Rick found him inspecting bolts and connections in preparation for the test. Rick retrieved a cup of coffee from the pot sitting in the corner and took a seat on the stool. He did not say anything until he started on his second cup of coffee.

So today we hope to see a perpetual motion machine, he said, sipping his coffee.

Well, actually no, Jack answered. In order to be a true perpetual motion device, we have to produce more energy than we consume. But this is the first step.

This thing is supposed to generate power?

Ultimately, yes. The goal today is to get the wheel to turn on its own using only magnetism. Once that is accomplished, we will connect a generator to the wheel.

Rick looked over the device and frowned. I think I should point out that you have an electric motor to turn the wheel, not to mention all of the electricity running through the plates.

The electricity is used to charge the plates, Jack explained. When they are charged, they will stay magnetized until I reverse the charge. The motor just gets the wheel up to speed. Once it gets going the magnets take over.

And how do the magnets turn the wheel?

The plates around the wheel are all positive. The plates on the wheel are alternately positive and negative, Jack grabbed the wheel and gave it a push, as it spun, every-other plate on the wheel pushed back six inches then sprang forward, when they did the other set sprang back then forward so that every other plate alternated positions rapidly. Opposites attract like repels. When magnets of opposite poles come close, it pulls the wheel along then they spring back. The magnets of like poles come forward to push the wheel. That process is repeated over and over and the wheel spins round and round.

The wheel slowly came to a stop. Jack snapped his fingers. I almost forgot! He went to his workbench and retrieved a square box with a switch, knob, and an electronic readout. I wanted to attach this magnetic field sensor. It will send readouts to my laptop.

Jack crawled back under the wheel with the device. I think I'll attach it to this bracket. Can you hand me a Phillips screwdriver?

Rick took the screwdriver from the bench. He set his coffee on top of the motor and reached through the wheel to give Jack the tool. Can't you just set that on the floor?

The magnetic field near the wheel could be pretty strong, Jack said. I don't want anything being pulled in by the attraction.

What about the tools on the bench?

They are too far away to worry about.

Rick rose and reached for his coffee. His hand hit the side, tipping over the foam cup. Coffee flowed over the top of the motor. Crap! Rick said.

What's wrong? Jack asked.

Just a little spill, Rick ran to the bench grabbing a roll of paper towels. He blotted around the top of the motor and wiped down the side.

You didn't get any on the plates, did you?

The plates?  No, Rick grimaced as he peered down into the motor. I just got a bit on the side of the motor.

Check around the plates. We will be sending hundreds of volts through them shortly. I don't want to take any chances.

Jack crawled out from the wheel. Did you get it all? He asked as he inspected the area where Rick had been wiping.

Looks like it, Rick grinned.

Alright then, let’s crank this thing up!

Jack walked to his