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that can go over the data I obtained , see what I’ve missed and help me figure out how to do it again . And to do it bigger and better. ”
                  Forst looked up at the ceiling. An irreproducible phenomenon would be worthless. On the other hand if he could figure out what had gone wrong with the equipment, which was kind of his specialty, and they could scale it up - the possibilities seemed tremendous ! They started to talk over rights, how they would share them and the University’s inevitable piece of the pie since Dans was employed by them.
     
    Thunder rolled off Joe’s fingertips as they drummed on the low string of his electric bass. A spotlight gradually illuminated him dressed entirely in black, standing in the center of the stage , back slightly arched and legs apart . The crowd, which had been gathering excitement during the agonizingly long bass note, started to whoop, holler and whistle. Shan kicked the bass drum once and a powerful thump echoed back and forth across the packed medium sized arena. Another thump, then the crack of a snare lighted a spot on the snare drum. That spot gradually enlarged to encompass the entire drum set as Shan established a simple but solid beat. Joe’s rolling bass thunder developed punctuations to match the beat established on the drums and then a spot faded in on their big Leslie sp eaker. The rotor spun up and a Hammond organ chord filled gradually in over the beat as another spot came up on Davis at the keyboards . The crowd, frenzied now , began to chant, “E - va ! E - va ! E - va ! …” The unmistakable evanescent sound of Allie’s guitar faded slowly into the mix adding to the pulse of the sound but still carrying that first chord which had now been sustained for so long that the listeners were anxiously waiting for a change. The pulse sped gradually and Allie and Davis added some higher notes to the chord but the listeners’ anxiety for a chord change simply built, and built and built . T hen Joe raised the long neck of his bass guitar and chopped down with it, the next chord finally blossomed, and another spot lit Allie . I t was hard to tell how slender and tall she was in her trademark ripped baggy jeans and heavy vest festooned w ith charms. Spiky black hair stuck up out of a visor that shaded her face . The crowd went wild as she leaned to the mike from a wide stance,
    “Another may be
    The m aster of my fate
    But I will be
    The c aptain of my soul
     
    Over deep seas
    I’ll sail this soul
    Against the breeze
    And t hrough the shoals”
    The crowd rocked slowly back and forth as if in a trance . H er eerie vocal blended perfectly with Davis ’s simple baritone harmony. Some ecstatic fans had to be carried out of the arena after fainting. Hundreds of others had been turned away from the sold out concert.
     
    Forst was appalled. Dans had provided him with data out the wazoo but claimed that the apparatus that had created the ports had been destroyed. When asked for the remnants of the destroyed apparatus, Dans said that it “ had been completely demolished in one of the tests and had been put in the trash. ” Construction notes and diagrams? Didn’t exist! It had been “an accidental side effect of a couple of unrelated pieces of equipment purchased for something else and misconnected.” Photographs of the effect were abundant. Pictures of the device creating the effect? Nonexistent! Forst wasn’t just appalled, he was pissed. Dans was obviously hiding something about the apparatus. This could be huge! H e was sure he could make another device and he could make it work but Dans wouldn’t give him any idea how the first one had been constructed. Dans wanted them to “try to figure out another way to create the same fields .” What a crock of shit! If you’d built one working airplane, you wouldn’t send an engineer into a closet to “build something that flies” with no more guidance than “it’s been done before” would