=9=
![[Image: doorcracker.jpg]](https://i.ibb.co/Vq0w6RM/doorcracker.jpg)
The Director resumed speaking. "It turned out that several of the German scientists that were brought over had looked into the properties of space-time. Their ideas intrigued our physicists who were working with them, and so, our people took this research further. They determined, by using the forces generated by the 'antigravity' ... uh ... 'devices', that local spatial topology could be, well, 'tuned'."
Now the VIP had a sour expression. "What are you talking about?"
Markman spoke up. "You may know, sir, that every conceivable location in our universe can be mapped to a set of three coordinates: X, Y, and Z. The 'tuning' of a door-shaped matrix of such coordinates was the matching of them with a similar matrix in our own universe ... or, in other space-time domains altogether. In practical terms, it opened a door to elsewhere. But there was a serious problem: the act of matching the matrices was highly unpredictable and they couldn't know what they were opening a doorway to ... and so, the research was ordered to be terminated."
Markman's boss had turned her gaze on him. Other than slightly widened eyes, her expression was blank.
The Director slid another document over to the VIP. The room was silent. Everyone Markman worked with, with the exception of his new supervisor, had been long briefed on these topics. And they all knew that more revelations would come before the meeting was over.
The VIP spoke. "So this research was just stopped?"
The Director pulled a long face. "Officially, yes, and that was what was believed by our people who headed up classified projects. In actuality, what happened is that the research continued without authorization. It was a colossal failure on the part of the security people. It is difficult now to determine precisely what happened and when."
"Why?"
The Director clasped his hands and looked at the VIP directly. "The principals all disappeared."
"Disappeared? You mean defected?"
"No, disappeared. Our best guess is that they succeeded in opening a stable doorway to a location that we cannot access ... and they went there, the whole kit and caboodle of them. No one knows how many voluntarily went and how many were coerced. But go they did ... and they took their research with them. This happened in the spring of 1958, and efforts since then to duplicate their research have been unsuccessful."
The VIP was astounded. "Jesus!"
The Director nodded. "The informal term for them is the breakaway civilization, or 'BAC'."
=9=
Cheers
The Director resumed speaking. "It turned out that several of the German scientists that were brought over had looked into the properties of space-time. Their ideas intrigued our physicists who were working with them, and so, our people took this research further. They determined, by using the forces generated by the 'antigravity' ... uh ... 'devices', that local spatial topology could be, well, 'tuned'."
Now the VIP had a sour expression. "What are you talking about?"
Markman spoke up. "You may know, sir, that every conceivable location in our universe can be mapped to a set of three coordinates: X, Y, and Z. The 'tuning' of a door-shaped matrix of such coordinates was the matching of them with a similar matrix in our own universe ... or, in other space-time domains altogether. In practical terms, it opened a door to elsewhere. But there was a serious problem: the act of matching the matrices was highly unpredictable and they couldn't know what they were opening a doorway to ... and so, the research was ordered to be terminated."
Markman's boss had turned her gaze on him. Other than slightly widened eyes, her expression was blank.
The Director slid another document over to the VIP. The room was silent. Everyone Markman worked with, with the exception of his new supervisor, had been long briefed on these topics. And they all knew that more revelations would come before the meeting was over.
The VIP spoke. "So this research was just stopped?"
The Director pulled a long face. "Officially, yes, and that was what was believed by our people who headed up classified projects. In actuality, what happened is that the research continued without authorization. It was a colossal failure on the part of the security people. It is difficult now to determine precisely what happened and when."
"Why?"
The Director clasped his hands and looked at the VIP directly. "The principals all disappeared."
"Disappeared? You mean defected?"
"No, disappeared. Our best guess is that they succeeded in opening a stable doorway to a location that we cannot access ... and they went there, the whole kit and caboodle of them. No one knows how many voluntarily went and how many were coerced. But go they did ... and they took their research with them. This happened in the spring of 1958, and efforts since then to duplicate their research have been unsuccessful."
The VIP was astounded. "Jesus!"
The Director nodded. "The informal term for them is the breakaway civilization, or 'BAC'."
=9=
Cheers
Fire In The Hole