Paul Trout had decided to forgo the flirtatious holographic image. Rather than use Max's central control panel, where Yeager communicated with the computer by voice, Trout had taken over a meeting room in the corner of the data center. He had set up a simple keyboard to tap into Max's vast store of knowledge. The keyboard communicated with an oversize monitor that took up most of one wall. Seated with Trout at a mahogany table where they faced the screen were Gamay; Dr. Adler, the wave scientist; and Al Hibbet, the NUMA expert on electromagnetism.
Trout thanked everyone for coming and explained that Austin and Zavala had been called away. Then he tapped the keyboard. A photo of a thin-faced man with dark hair and soulful gray eyes appeared on the screen.
"I'd like you to meet the gentleman whose genius brought us here today," Trout said. "Here you see Lazlo Kovacs, the brilliant Hungarian electrical engineer. This photo was taken in the late thirties, about the time he was working on his revolutionary electromagnetism theories. And this is what can happen when scientific brilliance is perverted."
Trout changed the picture to a split screen that displayed two satellite photos. On the left was the photo of the freak waves that sank the Southern Belle. The other side showed the giant whirlpool, as viewed from space.
He let the significance of the pictures sink in.
"We in this room have speculated that someone might have used electromagnetic transmissions based on the Kovacs Theorems to cause these disturbances. As you know, Gamay and I went to Los Alamos and talked to an authority on Kovacs's work. He confirmed our suspicions of human interference, and suggested the type of electromagnetic manipulation we've been seeing could cause a polar reversal."
"I assume we're talking about a reversal of the magnetic poles," Adler said.
"I wish that were so," Gamay interjected. "However, we may be facing a geologic polar reversal where the earth's crust actually moves over its core."
"I'm not a geologist," Adler said, "but that sounds like a recipe for a catastrophe."
"Actually," Gamay said with a smile as bleak as it was lovely, "we may be talking about doomsday."
A heavy silence followed her pronouncement. Adler cleared his throat. "I heard the word 'may.' You seem to be giving yourself some wiggle room."
"I'd be happy if I could wiggle out of this situation entirely," Gamay said. "But you're right in sensing that we've given ourselves room for doubt. We don't know how reliable our Los Alamos source is, so Paul has come up with a way to test the Kovacs Theorems."
"How could you do that?" Adler said.
"By using a simulation," Trout said, "much the same way you would re-create sea conditions in your lab using a laboratory wave machine or computer model."
Hibbet said, "Kovacs only wrote of his theories in a general way. He left out some of the specifics."
"That's true," Gamay said. "But Kovacs self-published a more detailed summary of his theorems. He used it as the basis for his published writings. There is only one copy in existence."
"If only we had it," Adler said.
Gamay slid the Kovacs folio across the table without comment.
Adler carefully picked the papers off the table and noted the name on the cover: Lazlo Kovacs. He glanced through the yellowed pages. "This is written in Hungarian," he said.
"One of our NUMA translators came up with an English copy," Trout said. "The math is a universal language, so there was no problem there. Testing was another matter. Then I remembered the work being done at the Los Alamos National Laboratory where scientists have come up with a way to test nuclear bombs from our arsenal without violating international treaty. They test the bomb's components, figuring in factors such as materials deterioration, and they feed the data into a computer which runs a simulation. I propose to do the same."
"It's certainly worth a try," Hibbet said.
Trout tapped the keyboard and an image of the earth appeared on the screen. The globe had a section cut out like a slice of orange to expose the layers of the inner core: liquid iron outer core, the mantle and the crust. "Maybe you can explain this diagram, Al."
"Glad to," Hibbet said. "The earth is like a big bar magnet. The inner core of solid iron rotates at a different speed from the outer core of molten iron. This movement creates a dynamo effect that generates a magnetic field called the geodynamo."
The picture changed to depict the intact globe. Lines looped out into space from one pole and curved back into the opposing pole.
"Those are the lines of magnetic force," Hibbet explained. "They create a magnetic field that surrounds the earth, and allows us to use compasses. Even more important, the magnetosphere extends out thirty-seven miles. This creates a barrier that protects us from the harmful solar wind radiation and swarms of deadly particles that bombard the earth from space."
Trout changed the computer image. They were looking at a map of the world. The ocean surface was splotched wi
th blue and gold patches.
"In the 1990s, scientists pulled together everything known about the earth's molten core and fed it into a supercomputer," Trout said. "They threw all sorts of stuff into the mix. Temperature. Dimensions. Viscosity. They found that the poles reversed themselves every hundred thousand years or so, usually when one started to weaken. It looks like we're in for another cycle."
"The earth is undergoing a natural polar reversal?" Adler said.
"Apparently," Trout said. "The earth's magnetic field started to deteriorate seriously around a hundred and fifty years ago. Its strength has waned by ten to fifteen percent since then, and the deterioration in the field has accelerated. If the trend continues, the main field would waken and almost vanish, and it would reappear with the opposite polarity."