SUNGLASESS AND ROCKETS Part 2: The Machine

THE LEGEND

"The moment of truth," I heard Darwin say.

I turned around. Between pantings he blew the dust off his eyeglasses.

"Come on!"

He ran towards the doctor. Phil ran in the opposite direction, toward a panel close to the gigantic window.

I followed my partners.

"Darwin! Gordo!" the doctor called.

The guards who were accompanying him turned around, undertaking a fast race toward the main hatch. I dodged them and turned slightly to follow them with my eyes.

They stopped at the entrance to watch. The lights in the hallway were dimming... and a dense cloud of dust was invading the room.

I walked faster, leaping between control panels that had overturned and approached the doctor.

"I wonder what happened to Mr. Wright," I said. "He probably is at the space port...waiting for us."

It wasn't useless to be rational.

"I want him far away."

The doctor drew near the two technicians.

"Where can I observe the evolution?" he asked.

The closest one pointed at a window at the back of the room.

"We only have the main screen left."

I noticed that on one end of the big window, there was a kind of image, blinking chaotically.

It was the screen.

"We just received an order from Liu to deactivate the SVM," a technician explained. But—," he stopped talking. Something from the ceiling fell near the table. "It will take time to find the deactivation frequencies...we have lost 60 per cent of the equipment."

The doctor went to the computer that the technician controlled. He leaned forward, frowned and opined with certainty:

"We will introduce random frequencies—" He turned to his two assistants, Darwin and me, behind him. "Each one of us will introduce ten giga frequencies. Quickly!"

"Are you sure?" a technician hesitated.

The doctor made a signal and a gunshot was heard. The man began to work immediately.

Darwin and I looked at each other. This was the final test. We didn't have a clue, but it made no difference.

"Use any board!" our boss urged us. "Now! Move!"

We ran.

From the diverse monitors that were in the row, we accommodated ourselves with two that still seemed to be in one piece.

"Activate all the computers!" the doctor yelled. "Come on!"

My monitor was on and a three-dimensional image of a hexagon wrapped in snow appeared.

"Ready!" a technician announced.

Code, I was able to read through the snow on the window. I breathed deeply and typed a series of numbers totally at random no lower than to the ninth power of ten, that is, in gigas. After that, I pressed enter with a shaky finger.

Code, the computer asked again.

I repeated the exercise.

The intensity of the tremors decreased substantially.

I kept on going this way for some instants, quickly introducing numbers at any random frequency; amazed at the same time, I was proving the effectiveness of the mechanism to stop the moonquake.

Suddenly, the doctor's voice was heard:

"That's about it," he announced and exhaled. "One...two...three."

The tremor diminished to a minor vibration and suddenly disappeared.

I couldn't believe it.

I looked around. More rows of computers and shelves had tumbled down. But nothing was vibrating. I saw the enormous perimetral wall: the purple luminosity had vanished.

"Successful deactivation," one of the technicians confirmed.

I turned to my right. The technician asked our boss: "Are you professor Masterton?"