by Dean M. Cole
“From what the two of you said, it was damned close. They were already in the Control Room, right?”
“Yeah, bastards attacked en masse.” A chill snaked its way down his spine. “If it gets that bad, I’m not sure a battalion of Rachels would make a difference.”
“Guess we need to make sure it doesn’t come to that, then.”
Vaughn nodded. As a group, they’d already discussed all of this, ad nauseam. “Yep. Bottom line: we need to get in there without being detected. Otherwise, we’ll likely be overrun, regardless of the armament we carry.” He sighed. “In that way, we’re multipliers more than combatants.”
Mark regarded Vaughn with a puzzled face. “Huh?”
“All of us know how to reset the timeline now.” One corner of his lips curled up. “Well, Rourke and Monique do anyway. I don’t like our odds if it comes down to one of us non-nerd types.”
Releasing a short chuckle, Mark dipped his head. “I know that’s right.”
Vaughn held up an open hand. “It’s not for lack of trying. I’ve memorized the password and all of the steps Angela has drilled us on, but I have zero confidence that I’d know what to do if, no, when I hit a snag.”
“Me neither.”
“I saw Angela power through glitches both times she overloaded the wormhole. Her fingers were a blur on that keyboard.” Vaughn shook his head. “Don’t know about you, but if it comes down to me, we’re probably all screwed.”
“Same boat here. Pretty sure all of us pilots are in it.”
“Anyway,” Vaughn continued, “like I was saying, we’re multipliers, extra chances to complete the mission should one of us fall, additional opportunities to push that button or buttons … keyboard keys, whatever. You know what I mean.”
Mark nodded again. “I do.”
They walked in silence for a time. Vaughn contemplated what might lie ahead for them. One way or another, things would soon come to a head.
And now it was all on him.
The group had elected him as the leader of this expedition. He had said it needed to be Rachel—she was a Ranger, for God’s sake—but she had shaken her head, saying that she’d take over if and when it came to a hot fight. They’d reasoned that he and Angela had the best knowledge of the situation on the ground. That, coupled with his military training and combat experience, made him the ideal person for the job.
Yeah, right.
Vaughn shook his head.
He’d reluctantly agreed to lead in spite of his lingering doubts about the decision. The last thing they needed was one of his screwed-up—
“What’s wrong?”
He blinked and turned to look at Mark. “What?”
“Come on, Vaughn. I’ve known you for years. We’ve been through more than one combat deployment together. I know when something’s bothering you.”
Following the robot around a bend in the trail, Vaughn shrugged. “I don’t know. Guess I’m not sure I’m the right person for the job.”
Mark stopped walking and held up a clenched fist. “BOb,” he called out, still keeping his voice down. “Hold up.”
The robot halted and matched Hennessy’s low volume. “Yes, sir.”
Lowering his hand, Mark turned and looked at Vaughn. “What the hell happened to the old Vaughn, the snarky asshole that we all followed since the early days of flight school?”
“You happened.”
Confusion twisted Mark’s face. “Come again?”
Slinging his assault rifle over his shoulder, Vaughn turned to face his friend. “Remember how you were going to have that discussion with me when we were in the vacuum chamber, the one where you were going to tell me to quit doing things half-assed, to apply myself?”
“How did you know…?” Mark paused. Understanding dawned on his face. He nodded. “I take it that discussion went differently the first time.”
“Yeah, it did. I blew off your advice at first, basically told you to pack sand.” Vaughn’s gaze fell to the floor of the forest. “Later, I had plenty of opportunities to regret that.” He shook his head slowly. “Nothing like a couple of months of solitary introspection to help you see the error of your ways.”
“What the hell did I say?”
Smiling crookedly, Vaughn shrugged. “All I heard at the time was, ‘Blah, blah, blah, you're fat, blah, blah, and lazy.’”
Mark winced. “Really?”
“Nah. I mean, yeah, that's what I heard, but it wasn't what you meant. It took a bit longer for that to sink in.”
“How much longer?”
Vaughn gave him an embarrassed grin. “About as long as it took you to get killed by a tumbling jet engine.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. It wasn’t like that got me going all at once, though. You know me. A little slow on the uptake sometimes.”
“Pfft. Sometimes?”
Vaughn smiled.
They began to walk again. BOb needed no prompting. The machine resumed its point duties.
“Anyway, your words made me take a hard look at my life. You were right. I’d been coasting through life and hadn't applied myself to anything since before flight school.”
Mark nodded appreciatively. “Nice to know I can have that much of an effect on you. Have to file that away for later. Hopefully, next time, I won't have to get flattened like Wile E. Coyote to drive home my point.
“Dude! That’s harsh.”
Shrugging, Mark continued. “So, you were slow on the uptake, huh?”
“Ayup.”
“What got you going?”
“What do you mean?”
“What was the catalyst? If seeing me get squashed like a bug didn’t draw you completely to the light side of the force, what did? There must have been a moment, an epiphany.”
Staring at the ground, Vaughn repressed a shudder as he recalled gazing down from the edge of the Royal Gorge Bridge. He shoved out the memory of his narrowly failed suicide attempt and looked at Mark. “The end of the world has a way of … of rounding off your rough edges.” He sighed. “Once I got past myself, I realized you were right. I needed to …” He shrugged. “I don't know, apply myself, I guess.” He blew air through his nose. “Of course, by then, I figured it was just for me, for my own sanity. Didn't know about Angela yet, but even after I did, it still took a few more screw-ups for me to get fully on board with the applying myself thing.”
They walked in silence for a moment. Then Mark gave him a sideward glance. “That’s great. Truly, it is. I’m glad you found it within yourself, but …” He paused as if searching for the right words. Then he nodded. “I think you may have gone a bit overboard on the introspection thing.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve been watching you, Vaughn. You’re agonizing over every decision. You need to get back to flying by the seat of your pants. Quit doubting your instincts.”
Vaughn rocked his head equivocally. “I don’t know about that. Flying by the seat of my pants didn’t work so well in the Aurora. Damned near killed myself and Angela with me. If I had died, she wouldn’t have survived.” He made air quotes. “My instincts would’ve killed her, too.”
Mark stared into the woods for a moment. He looked back at Vaughn and pointed ahead, jabbing an extended finger toward Geneva. “In situations like this, your instincts are good. When we were in the sandbox, your intuition kept us from getting our asses shot out of the sky or blown up alongside a road more times than I can count. You kept us alive simply by flying by the seat of your pants, whether you were in the air or on the ground.”
Mark placed a hand on Vaughn’s arm and gently pulled him to a stop. He studied his face for a moment and then lightly tapped Vaughn’s forehead. “It’s time to start trusting those instincts again, find a happy medium. Quit second-guessing yourself.”
When Vaughn opened his mouth to counter, Mark held up a hand. “When the situation permits, buffer your instincts with wisdom …” He paused, and then in the shadowed depths of
the forest, a barely visible smile spread across the man’s face. “Wisdom and some of that ‘applying yourself’ thing.”
Staring ahead, Vaughn nodded. Mark was right. Since agreeing to lead the expedition, he hadn’t let his concerns seep into his words or his actions, not around the rest of the group, not even in front of Angela—especially in front of Angela. He knew that a military unit—regardless of the makeup of the individuals within it—needed unwavering leadership. He’d seen the effects of both ends of that spectrum during his multiple combat deployments. He’d watched strong leaders guide their people through hellish action, prevailing against seemingly insurmountable odds, and he’d seen ineffective leaders yank defeat from the jaws of victory.
“I'm serious,” Mark said, pulling Vaughn back into the discussion. Apparently misreading his continued silence as disagreement, Mark continued. “These people are counting on you.”
Vaughn nodded. “You’re right, Mark. I’m on it.” He smiled self-consciously. “Thanks. I needed that.”
Mark grinned. “I know.” He pointed ahead. “Lead the way, Captain.”
Three steps up the trail, Mark smacked the back of his hand against Vaughn’s upper arm. “You know, if you don’t feel up to leading, I’m sure Bingham would be happy to take over for you.”
“Oh, hell no!”
“Good to hear.” Mark unslung his rifle and held it across his body. “It’s your command, Captain. Just remember: Don’t fuck up.”
Chuckling lightly, Vaughn shook his head.
Several minutes later, he realized he could see faint light between the trees to his front.
Slowing their advance and stooping, the trio crept forward. The winding canyon of conifers slowly parted, revealing a haze-filled, dimly lit sky.
They had reached the trail’s far end.
A ten-meter span of treeless earth sat between them and the precipice of Mont Salève’s rocky cliff: the Balcony of Geneva.
Crouching at the edge of the woods, Vaughn whispered to the robot. “BOb, continue tactical mode.” He pointed at the ground beneath the machine’s feet. “Hold position here. Watch our six.”
“Roger, Captain Asshole,” the robot responded, speaking softly.
Mark did a double-take. “What did he call you?”
BOb looked at him, head canted comically. “Is that not correct, Colonel?”
Scoffing, Mark said, “Oh, it’s correct, alright. I’m just surprised to hear it coming from your mouth … er, speaker, whatever.”
“I told him to call me that.”
Mark looked at Vaughn as if a mushroom had sprouted from his forehead.
Vaughn shrugged. “Long story. Just a way to make sure I don't get too full of myself. Anyway,” he pointed ahead, “let’s see what we see.” He looked at Mark. “Ready?”
“Aren’t we going to wait for the others, for the sunrise to blind any instruments that might be looking our way?”
“We’re reconning, right?”
Looking pensive, Mark nodded.
“Then, let’s reconnoiter, Colonel. We’ll hang back far enough so that we’re not visible from CERN. I just want a feel for what the area looks like.”
“Okay,” Mark said, drawing out the word. He slowly lowered to his belly.
“Captain Asshole, how should I alert you to approaching combatants? You ordered my radio removed.”
“Can you whistle like a bird?”
“Yes, sir.” The robot tilted its head. “But aren’t they all gone?”
“Guess we’ll know it’s you, then.”
The robot stared at Vaughn for a moment and then dipped its head. “Okay, Captain Asshole.”
Vaughn nodded and started to turn away, but then he looked back at the robot. It almost sounded like the son of a bitch was enjoying calling him that.
Shaking his head, Vaughn turned back toward the cliff. He lay prone next to his friend.
Mark looked at him. “I hope he knows not to call you that in front of the crew.”
Vaughn waved dismissively and began to low-crawl toward the rocky ledge. “Yeah, I instructed it to only use that name around the two of us.”
The dew-covered grass soon soaked through the camouflaged cloth of his uniform.
Every member of the team was wearing urban digital camouflage, or digicam as they’d called it in the Army. Vaughn had reasoned that its blotchy pattern of dark charcoal, light gray, and off-white speckles would serve best for their ingress into CERN, especially if they had to work their way through the burned-out city.
The short, wet grass clung to him as he inched forward. Last time he’d been atop this low mountain, Vaughn had crawled through thigh-high foliage. However, this soon after The Disappearance, the grass still had the manicured look of a well-maintained park.
The dirty sky above Geneva Valley glowed with the light of the coming sunrise.
As Mark and Vaughn crept closer to the edge, an ever-widening span of the valley slid into view.
Vaughn stopped a couple of meters back from the ledge. “That’s close enough for now,” he whispered.
“My thoughts exactly. Can’t see the middle of the valley from back here, but then again, nothing down there can see us either.”
Peering through the relatively short vegetation and resisting the urge to raise his head, Vaughn studied the small slice of Geneva Valley visible from their safe vantage point. The floor of its far side lay hidden, lost beneath an obscuring layer. He frowned. “I can’t see shit.”
“Me neither. Can’t tell if it’s fog or smoke, but it’s blanketing the whole area.”
When he’d emerged from the dark forest, Vaughn had flipped up his goggles, but now he rotated them back into place. He stared into the valley’s low obscuration and then nodded. “Lots of bright spots. Still stuff burning down there.”
After glancing at Vaughn, Mark flipped his goggles back into position and then nodded as well. “Sure the hell is.”
Night-vision goggles amplified light, but they also detected near-infrared energy, a temperature-based spectrum of light otherwise invisible to the human eye.
Still peering through the goggles, Vaughn swept them side-to-side, scanning the far side of the valley—the only portion of it visible from their current vantage point. Hidden within the obscuring layer, dozens of hotspots shone through the smog, their higher temperatures glowing like a street light under a blanket of fog.
“Dammit,” Mark whispered under his breath. “I sure hope this fog or smog, whatever the hell it is, burns off when the sun comes up.”
Vaughn frowned. “Me, too. Daytime heating should whip up the winds, blow some of it out of the valley.”
Mark continued to study the visible portion of the valley. “At least it’s not as bad as Paris. I don’t see nearly as many hot spots here.”
“Not as many still burning anyway. When Angela and I came here, the part of the old city that remained was burned to the ground. Looked like something straight out of a World War Two—”
Green light suddenly flashed in Vaughn’s goggles. “What was that?”
“Not sure.” Mark shook his head. “I was looking beneath the goggles when it happened. Only saw the light through the tubes. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have seen it at all.”
Trying to figure out where the light had come from, Vaughn gazed across the valley. A range of mountains lined its far side.
The sky above the distant peaks flared phosphorescent green.
Vaughn blinked in sudden recognition. “That was lightning.”
“Yeah, it was,” Mark whispered back.
Staring at the horizon, Vaughn saw the far hills beginning to glow in the early morning light.
Sunrise was closer than he’d thought.
When they’d emerged from the forest, Vaughn had mistaken the dark sky over the far horizon for the last vestiges of the fading night.
Mark pointed at the darkening horizon. “A storm’s coming. Must have followed us here overnight.”
; Pressing his lips into a thin line, Vaughn shook his head. “Well, shit. That’s gonna make things fun.”
“What is?” asked a female voice inches from his ear.
Vaughn barely contained a scream as his entire body spasmed. He turned to look at Rachel. The woman had crawled up right between him and Mark.
Panting, both men began piercing the cool morning air with rapid-fire shots of steamed breath.
“Jesus Christ, Major! I’ve told you a million times not to sneak up on me when I’m trying to sneak up on an alien horde.”
“And I’ve told you a trillion times not to exaggerate, Captain.”
Vaughn closed his eyes and tried to rein in his racing heart.
Then he looked at Rachel and whispered harshly. “Where in the ever-loving hell did you come from?!”
“Uh … from behind you. Duh.”
Looking over his shoulder, he tried to scan the woods, but light from the coming sunrise burned through the dense forest canopy and washed out his goggles.
Vaughn flipped the NVGs out of the way and saw BOb and the rest of the group crowding the trailhead.
Glaring, Vaughn raised a hand toward the robot in a what-gives gesture.
The bot held out its hands, palms up. A short, sorrowful birdsong whispered from its lipless mouth.
Peering from behind BOb, Angela smiled and waved over the machine’s shoulder.
Vaughn glared at the robot.
“Not his fault,” Rachel said. “I told BOb to keep quiet.”
“Thanks,” he said, drawing out the word. “How many more minutes do we have till the sun hits the valley floor?”
“Just a few more now.”
Vaughn nodded and then scrambled back to the waiting group. He stood and hugged Angela. Then he turned and whispered, addressing the entire team. “The sun will be fully risen soon.” He gestured at the ledge, sweeping his arm in a wide arc. “I want you to spread out. No sense in all of us bunching up.” Seeing nervous looks on a few of their faces, he added, “I don’t think they’ll even be looking, much less be able to see us, but there’s no sense in making ourselves an easy target.”
Bingham pursed his lips. “Remind me again of what we hope to accomplish here.”
Cocking an eyebrow, Vaughn nodded tightly. “We’re looking for a way to get into CERN without being observed. Might be able to use the same subway entrance that Angela and I used the first time. But I’d like to have eyes on it before we go charging in there.” He held up a hand. “And before you ask, no, we’re not going to come back and nuke them, regardless of what we see.”
