Free Fantastic Voyage: Microcosm by Kevin J. Anderson Page A

“It's got to be you, Marc. You designed the Mote. You've flown her on a number of tests.” His heart sank. “I'm very sorry. I never wanted to send you into danger, because I don't trust my objectivity where you're concerned. But right now I don't have a choice.”
    Devlin squeezed Hunter's shoulder in a strong grip. “Felix, you're a captain of industry, and I've seen you wrestle politicians to the ground. You've never been one to let emotions get in the way of an important decision.”
    “I won't let anything happen to you, Marc. I promise.”
    “I know.” His hazel eyes glittered with growing excitement. “I'm honored to go, I really am. Nobody can take better care of the ship than me. The Mote and I have a special bond.”
    Buzzers sounded in the chamber, warning that the miniaturization process was about to commence. Automatic fail-safes locked the doors, and air-exchange systems roared inside the sealed chamber.
    “Activating miniaturization beams.”
    The prismatic lights in the floor and ceiling began to pulse out of phase, an alternating sequence that glowed from outside the visible spectrum. Behind the filtered observation window, Hunter's eyes adjusted to take in more of the fringe illumination. He saw a flicker of static discharge around the rabbit cage.
    “Good-bye, Fluffy Alice,” Sujatha said. “Come back to us in one piece.”
    A throbbing sound grew, like the bass of a rock group playing miles away. Slowly at first, the table, cage, and rabbit shrank down in perfect symmetry, until Fluffy Alice was the size of a hamster, then a mouse, then a fly.
    The technicians worked at their panels, scrambling with touch-screens and keypads, whispering furiously at each other. Hunter did not like the concerned expressions on their faces. One of the green lights burned out. He considered calling off the test, but held his tongue. He did not have time to be obsessively cautious.
    “The technology has been proven safe many times, Mr. Director, sir,” Sujatha said, picking up on Hunter's uneasiness.
    In an adjacent room, walled off behind thick shielding, the primary miniaturization apparatus hummed, its huge engines sucking power through high tension lines from the nearest hydroelectric plant. Behind the walls, where only physicists dared to go, the true shrinking process took place.
    Safe in her cage, Fluffy Alice didn't seem perturbed as the entire table and cage diminished to a pinpoint and became an exhibit for bacteria and dust motes.
    The glowing lights stopped, the pulsing fell silent. The interlocked prisms dimmed, and the technicians heaved a sigh of relief. One mopped his forehead, noticed Hunter looking at him, and quickly focused back on his work.
    The loudspeaker proclaimed, “Phase One successful. Miniaturization accomplished, factor of ten to the minus fifth.”
    “Never ceases to amaze me,” Hunter muttered.
    “That'll be me in a few hours.” Devlin sounded as if he still couldn't believe he would be going along after all.
    Sujatha looked over at Hunter. “Would you like to be miniaturized yourself, sir? As Project Director, I am certain you have the authority to assign yourself to an exploration team.”
    Devlin laughed at the suggestion. “While Director Hunter has complete confidence in the technology, Dr. Sujatha, I don't think he's cut out to be a daring adventurer. Maybe someday … . when he's younger.”
    The rabbit still had not returned. Video monitors projected magnified images of the central miniaturization zone, but Fluffy Alice had been reduced far beyond conventional, nondestructive observation techniques. “Thirty seconds. Condition stable, as far as we can tell.”
    “How long are we going to wait before restoration?” Hunter asked. Every second that ticked by raised his concerns.
    “Relax, Felix,” Devlin whispered. “You're going to keep us reduced a lot longer than this.”
    “It is only a routine short-term shrinkage and restoration, sir. The weak field will