The Corps of Discovery Trilogy Box Set: Books 1-3: A multiverse series of alternate history

by James S. Peet

  Hopping online, Bill discovered that pictures could be printed and laminated at the base exchange, so he headed out. It felt strange not wearing his survival vest and belt and to not have his pack and rifle strapped over his shoulder. He felt like an Explorer.

  It wasn’t Bill’s first time to the base exchange, but since he didn’t visit too often, it took him a couple of minutes to find the copy center. After tucking the picture into his left pocket, he decided to explore the base exchange a bit more before supper. He still had several hours to kill before meeting Kim, but not enough time to go back to the cabin, grab his fishing gear, and hit the Naches, despite the fact that the salmon were running.

  It was then that he thought of “the Colonel.” Damn, I should’ve written him a long time ago, he thought, and looked around the exchange for a flash drive and padded envelopes, finding them in the office supply section. Then he returned to his cabin to type a letter.

  It took him quite some time to sum up what all he had been up to since crossing over, and letting his dad know that he was about to go out on his first mission. He made sure to include a return address knowing, though, that letter writing was something “the Colonel” rarely did. Once finished, he saved the letter onto the flash drive and included several pictures, a few of which included Meri. Some of the pictures were taken on the flight line, some in the air, and several were of the flora, fauna, and landscape of Hayek. The picture Kim had taken earlier in the day was included, with the comment “Taken today after graduation.”

  He made his way to the base’s small post office and inquired about mailing the envelope to the United States on Earth.

  “Not a problem,” he was told by the clerk. “Let’s just figure out the postage and get it on the way.”

  The postage was about ten times what he was used to paying. When Bill remarked on that, he was reminded that the envelope had to go through a gate, and gates cost a lot of money to operate. Bill nodded. That explains why all Earth made stuff is so expensive.

  By now it was practically supper time. Walking toward the cafeteria he was happy to see other Probies going in the same direction in all their gear, while he was practically naked, wearing only his uniform. It was what separated those in training from those in exploration.

  He arrived at the cafeteria in time to catch Kim just entering. “Perfect timing,” she said.

  “That’s me, perfect Bill,” he quipped.

  They sat together while eating and talked about their upcoming adventure. Both had a basic understanding of what was expected, but neither was totally sure. The anticipation was both exciting and nerve-wracking.

  After supper, they swung by the Cave Bear Cave for a quick beer (on Janice’s dime) and then parted ways, both wanting to get as much sleep as possible to make up for all the lost sleep of survival training.

  Bill received an email the next morning explaining the check-in procedures. He was to be at Bowman Field at least thirty minutes in advance of crossover, which was at 0800 hours, wearing the proper attire and with all the required equipment. Included was the list of equipment he was to bring, most of which had been sitting by his bedroom door since the day before. As his duties involved flying, his duty uniform was a flight suit. This meant including his flight suits in his gear, something he hadn’t considered.

  Upon crossover, he was to check in at the Field Manager’s Office and then report to his assigned crew. His crew, CL-415-Z21 was led by Explorer Mindy Hubert.

  The next couple of days were spent relaxing and salmon fishing. Bill also sat down with the counselor and worked out some of the issues still plaguing him from the Caribou incident.

  Meri made it back for the weekend, so the two of them spent practically all their time together. They made it a point to enjoy a night out on the town in Milton, where Meri introduced Bill to something other than food and grog—live theater. It was Bill’s first time seeing a live performance, and he found it to be quite enjoyable.

  Bill spent the afternoon before crossover washing and packing his uniforms into his duffel. As all his gear had been ready since the day of graduation, nothing else needed doing. Matt and Thep were off on survival training, and Jordan was still doing his secondary training, which was, surprisingly enough, as a mechanic. It turned out that Jordan was one of those shade tree mechanics every town seems to sport. He apparently used to make enough money from it that when he went to Stanford, he was able to pay his living expenses from his savings and doing mechanical jobs for students and professors on the weekends.

  Supper was spent with Meri. The two enjoyed the fine culinary skills of the Sacajawea cooks, before heading to the Cave Bear Cave for a single beer each. Neither wanted to have so much as a hint of a hangover for the upcoming week’s adventure.

  As Meri headed up her cabin steps after saying goodnight to Bill (in a manner that left him breathless), she turned and said, “Stay safe out there.” She then disappeared into the cabin, leaving Bill with a warm feeling.

  16

  Bill and Kim trudged across the crushed rock airfield. Dressed in their flight suits and light jackets, they practically staggered under the weight of their gear. For the first time since equipment draw, they were lugging their equipment belts, survival vests, backpacks, butt packs, rifles, and PDWs. Both primary and secondary survival kits had to be stashed in the CL-415 before take-off. Despite all the equipment they were encumbered with, their heads were on swivels. Other than Hayek, this would be their first new planet. Unlike Hayek, though, there existed no civilization, other than the rough field lined with support buildings to meet the logistics needs of the ongoing surveys. And large, nasty critters were something to definitely keep an eye out for.

  Their arrival earlier in the day had been a rushed affair. Both of them had arrived at the assigned gate at Bowman Field an hour early, laughing when they discovered each had decided to make an early appearance. Upon checking in at the departure terminal, they were told to join a small convoy that was forming up near the gate.

  “Let’s see, you’re on twenty-one. Okay. When you go through, check in with the Field Manager’s office, it’s a small building just past the gate, and let them know who you’re assigned to. They’ll get you squared away. Got everything you need?” Kim and Bill nodded.

  The two made their way over and met up with the convoy leader.

  “Ah, good. Smith and Clark. I was wondering when you two would show up. Glad you made it. Just hop in any truck that can fit you and your gear,” he told them, pointing to a string of cargo trucks that were lined up behind several fuel trucks.

  They spoke with several drivers until they found a truck with room. They threw their gear in the back, and with rifles slung over their shoulders and holding PDWs in one hand, they climbed into the truck bed, ducking under the canvas cover. Several other Explorers were seated on benches that ran along the sides of the bed. They recognized a few from training and nodded their greetings, and got nods in return. Most were too nervous to talk, just taking it all in.

  After what seemed like forever, but was really only an hour and a half, a klaxon sounded. Bill could hear people shouting, “Five minutes to Zion crossover. Five minutes to Zion crossover. Stand ready and start engines.”

  Starters ground and truck engines began to rumble. soon every truck’s engine was idling.

  Four minutes later another klaxon sounded, the one-minute warning. Once again, people shouted, “One minute to Zion crossover. One minute to Zion crossover.”

  The final klaxon sounded, and this time the voices were yelling, “Zion crossover. Zion crossover. Go, go, go!”

  Bill felt the truck he was in accelerate and thought Hot damn! My first survey! All thoughts of Meri were buried in the excitement.

  Soon he could tell they were no longer driving on macadam, the smooth tire rumble and ride replaced with a rougher rumble and ride. Shortly thereafter, the truck came to a stop and the engine shut down.

  The driver appeared at the back of the truck
and told the seated Explorers it was the end of the line, and they needed to get out and report to their crews so he could unload the truck.

  This time the Explorers helped each other out, forming a chain to hand out packs and butt packs. Rifles slung, and PDWs held, Bill and the others exited the truck onto the crushed rock airfield of Zion. Bill saw a sign stating Welcome To Primary Base, Zion, Courtesy of the Corps of Discovery.

  The temperature was the same as on Hayek, as was the sun’s position. It was a cool late October morning. Just perfect for salmon fishing or rabbit hunting, Bill thought, spying the small building with a sign stating Field Manager. Most of the people headed toward the building, with only a few heading toward buildings further down the field—clearly Explorers who had already been on Zion and were returning from a trip home. Bill could see several other buildings, one with a sign stating it was the mess hall; another was the sanitary facilities. Bill suspected that it was a combination toilet/bathing building.

  Bill and Kim had to wait their turn, but soon they were inside the building talking to an admin type, an Asian-looking woman in her mid-thirties. “21’s on the ramp getting refueled,” she told them. “Head down the runway and you’ll find her parked on the left side. Her number is painted on the tail. You can’t miss her.” She checked something off on her tablet. “Got you checked in so you’re good to go. Stay safe out there.”

  As they exited the small building and began walking down the runway, they noticed that the only aircraft visible were CL-415s and C-123s. Bill surmised that this wasn’t a forward enough base for the smaller Caribou and that the Monarch was probably not in use at this late a date in the survey.

  Kim spotted Tail Number 21 first. A fuel truck was pulled up next to it with a hose stretching onto the starboard wing, where a man stood holding it. As they approached, they could see a man and a woman sitting in reclining lawn chairs, relaxing and enjoying the warmth of the sun. Sunglasses covered their eyes. Bill could see his reflection in them.

  “Hi,” Bill said. “We’re looking for Mindy Hubert.”

  “That’s me,” answered the dark-haired woman, standing up. She looked to be in her mid-thirties.

  Bill introduced himself and Kim.

  “Great. Glad to have you aboard. Let’s get your gear stowed and I’ll give you the grand tour.”

  Mindy introduced the still-seated man, a dark-skinned twenty-something-year-old. “That’s Doug Stine. He’s the co-pilot. That makes me pilot,” she said with a grin. Doug waved but didn’t stir beyond that.

  The trio entered the plane and Mindy, removing her sunglasses, showed them their workstations, bunks, hanging lockers, and storage lockers. Under each bunk was a drawer for their clothing needs while on a survey.

  “We’re kinda lucky with these birds. Everyone’s got their own bunk, so no hot bunking, and each of you has your own workstation. We’ve got preliminary data, but they want the coastlines refined, so that’ll be our job for the next couple of months. Luckily, we’ll be operating in warmer climes. Wouldn’t want to spend all winter up at these latitudes.”

  Mindy then gave them the ten-cent tour, showing them the galley, lavatory, fire extinguishers, and first aid kits.

  “You guys know how to stow your gear in these?” she asked, pointing to the crash seats that also served as their workstation seats.

  “I think we can figure it out,” Kim said.

  “Awesome. Well, get settled in, hang your flight suits in the lockers, and then join us outside. Might as well enjoy the weather while we can. We’ll check you out on the equipment after lunch. Oh, and keep your rifles with you at all times. When you’re in the plane, put your rifles here,” she said, pointing to a rack to the left of the door. “Take-off is oh-seven hundred tomorrow.”

  It didn’t take long to stow their gear, as most of the equipment they brought with them was to remain in their bags. Survival packs went into the storage lockers, flight suits in the hanging lockers, and secondary survival kits in the storage space under the crash seat. Bill was surprised at how tight a fit it was. Smaller items went into the drawers under his bunk.

  Once done, the two stepped into the glare of the now-bright Zion sunshine. Sunglasses helped.

  “Grab a seat,” Mindy said, “and let’s get acquainted.” The two sat, placing their rifles in their laps, pointed in a safe direction.

  For the next couple of hours Mindy quizzed them, then she and Stine talked about their experiences and the upcoming survey. Stine had come over from Earth the year before and had been flying as co-pilot with Mindy ever since graduating Survival School. He had attended an aeronautical school, so he had a heavy dose of theory and application. He was from South Florida and attended school in northern Florida. Other than that, he hadn’t traveled much until joining the Corps.

  Mindy had grown up in Denver, had been in the US Air Force and flown C-130s, but realized that it just wasn’t working out for her. Between the wars and politics, she was fed up with Earth, so she managed to wrangle a position in the Corps as a pilot, despite being several years older than the average Probie. That was over five years ago, so she was considered an old hand by now.

  Both Mindy and Doug had heard about Bill’s Caribou incident. Other than a brief comment, with the follow-up of “I know who I can turn to when the brown fecal material hits the oscillating device,” they didn’t dwell on it too much. Bill was glad they didn’t.

  The survey was set to resume in the morning, now that Bill and Kim had arrived. They would be mapping around the Caribbean, which meant a multi-leg flight before they even started.

  “Most of the fields we’ll be landing at are like this, or worse,” Mindy said, waving her arm around the airfield. “Don’t expect much in the way of services once we leave here. The field bases are real basic—fuel depots, food stores, pit toilets, and outdoor showers. Some have basic repair shops. We’ll be on flight and field rations for the next several months or so until we get leave, except when we happen to kill and cook something. I hope neither of you is a devout vegan?” she asked. Both shook their heads.

  Mindy explained that the airfield they were on was the only place they didn’t need to have all their survival equipment with them at all times, so to enjoy it while they could.

  “Once we get out there, any time we land could be our last. So, don’t take chances.”

  “Any idea on what we can expect out here?” Kim asked.

  “Well, it appears we’re on a Non-Impact Holocene Planet, which means it looks like this planet never went through the Younger Dryas, so pretty much anything that existed before the Clovis Impact exists here.”

  Kim nodded, clearly understanding. Bill knew she had taken a paleoclimatology seminar in graduate school, despite working mainly on a GIS-centered degree.

  Bill, on the other hand, was clueless. The University of Washington, while having a great GIS program, didn’t really have a physical geography component, other than a single lower-level course on basic physical geography. Admitting his ignorance, he asked what the “young dry ass” was and the “clover impact” were.

  After recovering from their laughter at his mispronunciations, Mindy explained.

  “As you probably know, the Earth went through a number of geologic eras, made up of epochs, and finally, stages or ages. We’re currently in the Holocene Epoch, which started about 12,000 years ago, at the end of the Pleistocene Epoch. Some people don’t think the Pleistocene ended, though, and consider us to be in an interglacial period, not a new epoch. Anyhow, according to certain experts, around 13,000 years ago a meteor or swarm of meteors impacted the Earth, or air-burst above it, in Canada. Possibly on the Laurentide Ice Sheet. It’s called the Clovis Impact because it was first identified at a quarry that the Clovis civilization used to get the rocks to make their tools. By the way, the Clovis site was in New Mexico.”

  Mindy went on to explain how evidence of the impact was found on and around tools that were on the ground, but not under the tools, all of w
hich had been excavated during archaeological digs in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. “Actually, not all that long ago.”

  The impact was so severe that it possibly caused fires to rage throughout North America. Another contributing factor was the massive melting of the ice sheet, which flowed into the Atlantic Ocean, cooling and diluting the salt water. This led to a colder, slower ocean circulation between the tropics and the northern latitudes. All of this led to a rapid cooling of the climate for approximately 1,200 years. This not only led to the collapse of the Clovis civilization but other proto-civilizations in Europe and Southwest Asia as well.

  “The hypothesis is that the combination of fires, the cooling of the Gulf Stream, and sudden decrease in temperatures led to a mass extinction when most of the megafauna of the Pleistocene disappeared from the scene,” Mindy wrapped up. “So, any planet that has megafauna usually didn’t experience a Clovis Impact, and we refer to them as Non-Impact Holocene Planets.”

  “Wait a minute,” Bill said. “I’ve been taught all my life that the megafauna was hunted to extinction by man. And now you’re telling me it was a meteor that wiped them out?”

  “That’s the latest and greatest hypothesis,” Mindy replied, shrugging. “All I know is that some planets have megafauna, and some don’t, and that’s how we differentiate them.”

  “I guess it makes sense,” Bill commented, feeling cheated that he was clueless about this hypothesis.

  “Not to sound ungrateful or anything,” Kim said, “but what happened to the other two aerial surveyors that we’re replacing?”

  “Injuries” was the answer. “One got bit by a rattlesnake and the other broke her ankle trying to get to him to help out. Bad luck all around.”

  “Yikes,” Kim said. “Were you on a survey?”

  “Actually, no. This happened right over there, last week” Mindy pointed to the back of the aircraft, “before we even began our survey. Keep an eye out for rattlers. They normally won’t bother you if you don’t bother them, but sometimes you surprise them and they take offense.”