The Human Bullet. Joaquin De Torres
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But two years before this technologic Utopia came into existence, Marko’s life was shrouded in darkness, doubt and much grief. The pressure was unbearable. He had a lot of money and investors, but none larger than the Department of Defense which offered him a great challenge; a challenge that he later felt he should have never accepted.
They commissioned him for a Top-Secret project and basically gave him a blank check to make it happen. He would eventually satisfy the DoD, but he paid a heavy price for it in his life, his spirit and his soul. The project had reached its final stage of completion.
For all its magnificence and significances, this accomplishment was always overshadowed by the passive and active pressure he felt during those months when the Pentagon would demand results and signs of progress.
Unlike his other accomplishments and quests, he did not control the timeline, the government did. And what was worse, the project itself was too advanced, even for him. He knew he had made a terrible mistake accepting the commission.
He slept little trying to solve a problem that even his best staff engineers couldn’t even fathom. Nevertheless, the government kept hounding him, pushing him, then threatening him. He struggled with what he had to do, what he was paid to do, and the actually ‘doing’ of it. What the Pentagon wanted did not make sense scientifically. His schematics didn’t work. Although fascinated by speed, the math didn’t equate to the two types of speed he was required to deliver. The demand was ominous.
He had to create a human-operated hypersonic vehicle that could move faster than any flying object, but not fly. It had to break the sound barrier by more than ten times, but make no sound. It had to have the power of a rocket, but emit no heat exhaust, and have no way of being detected or tracked by radars or satellites.
There was nothing man-made like this on the Earth. And the only reason it was considered for construction was because it was reported that China was experimenting with their own similar vehicle.
The other speed problem facing Marmilic was when his machine would have to be completed.
It would take years just for the basic design, infrastructures and schematics, to think nothing of testing and tweaking. The person handling that vehicle had to be able to withstand the temperatures of the Sun itself and the biologic shock of traveling at speeds never before reached by any animal in history.
No pressure. The government gave him one year. One. And the materials had to be flawless, the engines, parts and gears all had to be designed in their lightest yet strongest forms.
Many nights, sometimes all night, Marmilic considered and calculated in silence. Despite having some of the best scientists and engineers in the world, he couldn’t yet assemble the craft to satisfy the requirements. It was impossible, he finally resolved. It couldn’t be done; and even if it could be done, it would only come from a miracle.
CHAPTER THREE
The Whisper of Silence
- Two Years Prior -
Raduč, Croatia
Lika-Senj County
Dr. Irena Pezelj, 30, put the wet mop back into the bucket of water that was already inky black. She had been mopping, dusting, scraping and scrubbing the walls and floors of the old house for three days, and this was just on the first floor!
The cleaning of the 100-year-old, two-story wood and brick house still had at least a week before it would be truly livable. There was still the second floor to do with all its bedrooms and bathrooms; the attic and the massive basement below ground were full of cobwebs, mildew and dust; and the smell of age, rot and degradation had to be ventilated.
But despite its size, enough for a family of six, she would be the only person in the house. This house represented a new beginning, a new cornerstone at a time when the pillars of her career had all but crumbled beneath her feet. Irena looked around the large empty interior of the first floor and tried to imagine what could happen in this ancient house, what she hoped to accomplish.
With every hour she spent cleaning it, she was cleaning the stains of her old life. A life of frustration and anxiety as a professor of mathematics at Zagreb University where the school’s Dean of Mathematics and Engineering constantly criticized her.
Whether it was her futuristic physics theories, or her interest in alternate forms of energy generation, or her experiments in electrical and engineering dynamics, the head master always had something negative to say about it.
He couldn’t understand how such a young woman who was hired to teach the institution’s traditional mathematics curricula, was so easily distracted by theoretical concepts that humanity could never possibly use nor understand. And she couldn’t understand why her boss wouldn’t want her to explore deeper into subjects that students found fascinating in class.
To be fair, he had a point: her personal research in these interests often kept her from fulfilling her basic school obligations which generated much negative attention from some students, parents and colleagues. She and the Dean argued often about student dissertations, student needs, the outdated source materials, the grading criteria, and his own lack of knowledge.
The problem was: She was a genius in many ways, far over qualified for her job and his, and he knew it. He continually tried to suppress her superior talent, keep her in check, humble her. But then came the day when, in front of all her colleagues and his peers, she mercilessly let him have it.
“What kind of example are you setting at this university? It’s too generic, it’s too mainstream! You’re preparing these students to be average achievers, limiting their potential and shutting down their intellectual curiosity just as you tried to shut down mine!” She pointed her finger at him accusingly.
“You don’t know a fifth of what I know about mathematics, physics and engineering! How dare you lecture me on my work! You can’t even comprehend it!” She stormed out of the room leaving everyone inside silent and shocked. She was fired the next day.
Three weeks later, she interviewed for an advanced mechanical engineering professorship position at the Nikola Tesla City College in Gospić, her own birth town of less than 6,500 inhabitants.
A small municipality in a karst field in the Lika valley skirted by the mighty Velebit mountain range, Gospić was just 10 minutes from the frontdoor of the village of Smiljan – Nikola Tesla's birthplace and childhood home. His home had since become a public museum, tourist attraction, and the centerpiece of national pride of Croatia's most famous son.
She was accepted two days later for the job and would have the whole summer to prepare for fall semester. Just the fact that she was a full 123 miles from Zagreb brought her both satisfaction and closure. Her new life would be built here; her future – wherever it led, would begin here.
Zagreb, the capital and international nerve center of Croatia with over 1.3 million people was, in every conceivable way, divergent from Raduč - population 20 - a forgotten village in a barren field, abandoned over the decades and left to the mercy of the elements. Raduč didn’t even qualify as a ghost town because there was no town. Humble plots of farm land dotted the area, but were separated by large distances in between.
The few inhabitants, farmers who sold their goods in Gospič some 20-minutes-drive away, didn’t see each other or socialize as they lived at least a kilometer apart. In fact, the only contact between them happened sparingly or accidentally while driving along the worn-down roads leading towards Gospić.
She moved back into the old house where she grew up, but immediately wanted a weekend house to be away from people, to think, to relax, and to write.
The privacy and solitude of Raduč was exactly what Irena was looking for and needed. She wanted a place where she could work on her theories, dissertations and even a book, in absolute peace and tranquility.
She bought the house cheap, just 40,000 euros, approximately $45,000. But this house was different. It had a special significance to her.
She