The God Equation and Other Stories Read Online Free PDF Page B

had happened just a few days ago, although it was more like centuries.
    On New Year ’ s Eve, she found herself inside the hull of a hijacked Han-class nuclear submarine, the result of an audacious, clandestine mission to steal a Chinese invention that would alter the course of history. Three soldiers were lost, a dozen wounded. Tomas was one of the survivors, and was hastily introduced to Fatima when she got onboard for the mission ’ s second phase.
    She had been informed of her exact role only hours before her arrival, and it took her longer to believe in the crazy plan than to agree to it. As the civilian mission leader told her during the final briefing, she was selected for two reasons.
    “First,” said the professor, “your predecessor was killed during the hijacking operation and we needed the best available replacement within our critical twenty-four hour window: a topnotch marksman with actual combat experience. I understand you had just finished your tour in Mindanao, correct?”
    “But I need more time to prepare.”
    “You don ’ t have that luxury. The Chinese aren ’ t happy, and they ’ d rather destroy the device than lose it to us. We ’ re hours away from open war, you know. And trust me, they will find us.”
    “The second reason?” she asked.
    “Mass,” he replied.
    “I don ’ t go to mass.” She had not been to church since she was sixteen.
    “I meant your physical mass. Your personal file says 48 kilos, but we need to be precise. You ’ re exactly 48.1251 kilos … without clothes … and, as we were pleased to discover, identical to the young soldier who was killed yesterday, the one who was supposed to lead the mission. She was also a woman.” He waited for her to react. She didn ’ t say anything. “That special camouflage suit you ’ re wearing,” he went on, “brings your total mass to 49.8951 kilos. It was designed to help keep your body ’ s moisture at a fairly consistent level. Water retention is a good thing.”
    She looked puzzled. “Why the interest in my weight?”
    “Not weight,” he said with some impatience. “Mass.” He handed her a thick plastic envelope. “That ’ s 35.1 grams.”
    She was led into a small, spherical chamber. Tomas was already seated in a black rubber boat, accompanied by several bags of gear. He smiled at her as she took her place across him.
    The professor left the chamber and ordered it sealed and pressurized. He returned as a disembodied voice.
    “Captain Rodriguez and Lieutenant Estregan, welcome. I do wish I had crafted a beautiful speech for this momentous occasion, something for posterity, but if my theory is correct, such words will be moot. So allow me to go straight to the point. You have your sealed orders, with detailed instructions on how to identify, intercept, and execute your targets. You are both ordered to read these documents carefully when you get to the island. Both of you are trained warriors, and in addition to food and water, you have in front of you the instruments of your vocation.”
    The chamber started to hum. “The total mass of every object in this chamber - the boat, your weapons, your bodies - was precisely calculated to ensure that you are accurately transported to the proper coordinates: 14 degrees 49 minutes south latitude, 138 degrees 48 minutes west longitude. No more, no less. One gram is all it takes to bring you hundreds of kilometers off course. Or not at all. The timing of the rendezvous, however, was very easy to resolve.”
    He paused as the countdown began.
    T-minus sixty seconds and counting.
    “The Chinese calibrated this machine for 1421, which according to our intelligence was the year when Admiral Cheng Ho led his emperor ’ s treasure fleet on its sixth expedition. Fortunately, our engineers have managed to reset the system and move the date forward by one century. The future no longer belongs to the Chinese … because the past now belongs to us.”
    T-minus thirty seconds and