by J. F. Halpin
“Have a decision for me by morning. No matter the choice, I’ll ensure you’ll have our full cooperation.”
And with that, the colonel turned to leave.
Summers stood there, watching her go. They’d come all this way, just for the chance to get back home. Really, Summers had come to make sure his friends, at least, had the choice. Now, finally faced with the decision head-on, he wasn’t sure what he should do.
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“You’ll be a guinea pig the rest of your life,” Cortez muttered.
They’d been given a small set of rooms at the far edge of the base, beside the walls. Summers thought it would have been a barracks if most of the furniture wasn’t destroyed. When he’d filled them in on what Jacobs had told him, it just made things more complicated.
Pat, Orvar, and the twins hadn’t said much since.
“She’s right. Think about it, why would the army be interested in a cure?” Nowak pointed at Summers. “My family’s old military. I grew up on a base. I know what they’re about. And the second someone sees what you can do, they’re going to be trying to figure out how to make more. You’ll be a weapon. They would use what you are to kill god knows how many.”
“As opposed to staying and dying when these things show up? That would be the good thing to do?”
“I—” Nowak stumbled over his words. “I didn’t mean it like that, man.”
“I know. And trust me, I don’t want that, but . . . this Wendel guy, who’s to say he can’t follow us? That once he gets finished here . . .” Summers glanced at the others. “What’s to say he doesn’t come back to Earth? We’d need a way to fight them off at their level. Maybe that’s me.”
“Or, more likely, some general gets a hard-on for super soldiers and kickstarts the end of the world themselves.” Cortez stared Summers down. “It wouldn’t surprise me if that’s was what they were after this whole time.”
“Maybe . . .”
As they spoke, Asle and Synel sat in the corner, trying to find somewhere remote enough to wait out the storm, should they choose to stay.
Summers gestured to the map in front of them.
“Any luck?”
“Populated areas are too dangerous. And where people aren’t, beasts are. Any place with neither would be too difficult to settle. Even then, I’m not confident we’d be truly safe, given what we’ve seen.”
She was taking the news far better than Summers would have expected. Or maybe, she was simply better at hiding it. At least she didn’t blame him—hopefully.
Asle kept her head glued to the paper. In fact, the girl hadn’t said much since their talk with the colonel. She’d been as angry as he’d ever seen her, and given what they’d dragged her through, that was saying something.
“Asle? What do you think?”
“Everything that woman said was a lie.” Asle hugged her knees to her chest. “She doesn’t want to help us. She just wants to use us.”
Summers hadn’t discounted that possibility. In fact, he’d suspected as much himself. But still . . .
“Should we put it to a vote?” Nowak prompted.
“No,” Summers replied immediately. “I’m not going to be the reason any of you stay behind.”
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In the end, the decision was still unanimous. Between death, or captivity, at least the latter had some sliver of hope. And while Summers was a danger, it wasn’t likely the army didn’t have some sample of the hamr sitting around. At least this way, they knew what was in store for them. They could prepare, and plan for it, together.
By that morning, the colonel made the announcement.
They were going home.
Chapter 43: Those We Left Behind
The base was buzzing with activity by that evening, everyone trying to prepare for what lay ahead.
Summers watched a pair of soldiers in a medical tent, one with what remained of his legs wrapped up to the knee. The other looked to be missing an eye. Even so, they seemed happy, excited even that they might finally see home again.
As they spoke, Summers realized something. He didn’t share that feeling. Despite knowing he was making the right choice—if not for himself, then for the others.
Not that it mattered. He’d already made up his mind.
“You coming, or what?” Nowak’s question stirred Summers from his thoughts.
“Yeah.”
Summers sat up, ignoring the pain. He still had a job to finish.
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The colonel stood in a large tent at the center of the base, an odd expression in her eyes as she stared down at the small pile of dog tags on her desk. Most were of the 63rd; some, their own people.
The mementos had been one of the few things that survived their fight at the bunker, and were all that remained of those who had been lost in this world.
Knowing that the one responsible was just a few hundred feet away was another feeling altogether.
The colonel cleared her throat.
“Thank you. I’ll make sure these get to the right people. Hopefully, once we’re on the other side, we’ll see to a proper ceremony.”
“Do we have an ETA on that, ma’am?” Nowak asked.
“Soon,” she answered. “You made the right choice. I’ll do everything in my power to ensure you’re comfortable while we work things through. You have my word on that.”
Her eyes lingered on the helmet a moment longer, before a loud rumble caught their attention.
The group turned to find the wide doors of a bunker opening. Summers could see several carts laden with what were almost certainly missiles inside.
“Insurance,” the colonel explained. “We want to keep the sergeant honest here, and that Anchor’s all the bastard cares about.”
Summers paused, thinking over his next words. It was something he had been mulling over for a while. Seeing the colonel’s “insurance” only hardened that resolve.
“Ma’am, I had a . . . suggestion for this deal of yours.”
“I understood you were on board with my decision.”
“I am. But I think I’ve proven I can counter his, uh . . . unique methods?”
The colonel glanced him over before speaking again.
“Say what you’re going to say, Corporal.”
“I think I can stop the sergeant if he tries anything. I’ve seen him deflect gunfire and . . . I think it would be smart to have a backup plan short of your missile solution. With respect, ma’am.”
The colonel put a hand to her chin, thinking.
“I’m not opposed to the idea, but you’re aware of the risk?”
Summers gave a tired smile.
“Ma’am, if our only other option is to blow this place to hell, I think I might actually be safer like this.”
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“Any particular reason you wanted to get into more shit, or you just feel like pushing your luck?” Nowak double-checked the rifle at his side.
“Oh, I’m almost sure this is going to go to hell, and I’d rather get ahead of it while we have the chance.”
“You had one foot in the grave earlier, man.”
“I can handle it. Trust me on this, Sarge. Guy tries anything, I’m pretty sure I can give him a concussion just by yanking his brain around.”
Two soldiers led them to the bunker that Summers had seen when they first arrived. Inside, a long ramp led the group deep underground.
As they walked, they were pointedly ignoring the large missile being wheeled along beside them. The soldiers had assured them it wasn’t armed. That didn’t do much to soothe their nerves.
“So, we just leaving everything behind?” Cortez felt at her mostly empty pack. “Feels like a waste.”
“Everything we move just gives that asshole more time to try something,” Nowak answered. “And not like we’re short on bullets on Earth. Or food—or missiles, for that matter.”
&n
bsp; “Well, definitely not missiles,” Cortez agreed.
Nowak looked back to the group.
“If anyone else is having second thoughts, now’s the time . . .”
None of them said a word.
Summers caught sight of Pat staring at the missile. He and the others were all looking more than a little shell-shocked after yesterday’s revelation.
“Pat, you doing okay?”
Pat turned to Summers, seemingly surprised at the attention.
“No, my friend, I’m not. I don’t know what I should do.” He hesitated. “You’ve shown me things I would have seldom imagined. And I’m thankful.”
“Look, I’ve told you before, you don’t owe me anything. If—”
“We follow you because we want to,” Pat interrupted. “I’m not a fool, Commander. I would not pledge my life to an idiot.”
Summers considered that. Compared to the others, Pat was the only one with solid ties in this world. Even Synel had spent most of her life on the road.
“Look, man, I don’t know what to tell you,” Summers admitted. “All I know is that if we stay here, we’re not going to be able to accomplish much.”
Pat looked back at Summers.
“I trust you.”
“So do we,” Bard added, grabbing his brother.
Cortez put an arm around a dour-looking Orvar, who nodded as well.
Summers took a breath to steady his nerves. They were coming up to the finish line now. And while they were all tired, at least they were together.
It was his fault Nowak and Cortez had been stranded in this world. Now, he'd at least be able to repay that debt. As for the others . . .
Nothing he did could fix what was coming. But they’d get out of this with their lives.
Synel moved up beside Summers.
“So, this stock market you were telling me about . . .”
He flashed her a smile. Some might adapt a little faster than others.
“Don’t understand a bit of it, if I’m being honest. But if anyone can figure it out—”
Summers stopped as the hall opened up to a cavernous room. The entire group slowed as the thing inside came into sight.
A black sphere almost as large as the room was tall, took up the bulk of the space, its surface rippling like water. As Summers watched, a series of dark tendrils broke the surface, three branching fingers forming from their ends before receding back into the mass.
“Going to guess that that’s our Anchor,” Cortez said after a moment.
Summers could only stare. There was something about it . . .
“Home.”
He caught himself taking an involuntary step forward, his mind immediately going on high alert. Whatever that thing was doing, it was calling to him. And he was not stupid enough to answer.
“You okay there?”
Summers found Cortez staring at him, worried.
“Yeah. Just a little . . . off.” Summers looked at the Anchor, doing his best to suppress his urge to approach it.
The rest of the room was filled with soldiers, all in full gear, each staring at the entrance they were occupying.
Summers realized only a second later that they weren’t looking at him. Behind them, he found the thin man, Wendel, with more than a few guards in tow.
The fact that he was walking on his own two feet, with two fully functional hands, was telling in and of itself. He also seemed slightly taller.
He gave Summers a wide smile.
“Well, this just keeps getting better and better.”
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Summers stood at the thin man’s side, ready to move if he so much as twitched funny.
So far, all he’d done was stare up at the Anchor. There was a group of people beside it, double-checking the various systems Summers was sure he wouldn’t understand.
He did, however, recognize the explosives strapped to the various “normal” components—those that looked to have been obviously added by the army.
Meanwhile, every other soldier had their hands on their weapons, their eyes fixed directly on them.
The thin man didn’t seem to care.
“We’re still willing to reach an agreement, you know. It’s not as though we hold a grudge. Our death would merely be an . . . inconvenience. If you wanted to remain here, we would be more than happy to oblige. You have an interesting resourcefulness to you. With the proper education . . .”
“And help you murder innocent people?”
“A means to an end. That’s all it’s ever been.” He looked at the injured men on the far side of the room.
They were being led in a few at a time. Hopefully, it was a sign they’d be leaving soon. As Summers watched the man’s face, he could see something like recognition, or remorse. Maybe there was still some part of Wendel in there. Or maybe he wasn’t a complete bastard.
Either way, the less he had to do with the man, the better. He was essentially responsible for everything that had happened during his time in this world—including those they’d lost. Talking with him, that would just make what was coming harder.
Unfortunately, the other man didn’t seem to share that sentiment.
“We’re far more familiar with you than you know, and far more alike. We both want to protect our people, after all. Can’t imagine how many you’ve killed before coming here. As for this world, you’ll find our methods far more merciful than our colleagues’ . . .”
Summers glanced over to his friends in the distance.
“I’ve seen what you did to this world.” Summers stared right back at him. “You really think you’re going to justify that?”
“Justify? Do you not understand the danger your people face?”
And that just pissed Summers off.
“Whatever the fuck you have planned—”
“Oh, for the God’s sake, not us.” He paused. “This world, imagine it’s similar to your own, isn’t it? Rough around the edges, maybe, but let us assure you, our planet is the same. Our bodies. Our minds. We are, all of us, human.”
“Is that supposed to make it better?”
“We’ve told you that life in this galaxy is rare. Human life, even less so. There’s a purpose for all of this. Our world’s survival is paramount.”
“And the rest of these people don’t mean jack shit.”
“Those who are left will be led into a golden age, with our brightest minds to guide them. And in the face of what’s coming . . .” He hesitated. “The Anchors were our last resort. Cobbled together, really. We had weapons that could shatter planets, wonders you couldn’t imagine. And we died. Have you considered what could have done that? Across every existence, the Earth remains mostly the same, so why would humans—life—be an exception?”
Summers thought about what he said. Truth be told, he’d never considered what could destroy a civilization that had created something like the hamr, let alone why they’d do it.
“You’re saying it’s being wiped out?”
“Very good!” The thin man’s smile broadened. “Your people have hope yet.”
There was something out there that had destroyed a people thousands of years ahead of their world, and they were still there. Free. And unknown.
That was its own kind of terrifying.
But it didn’t change what he needed to do.
“Uh, sir?”
Summers turned to find a soldier at their side. The man looked more than a little nervous.
“We’re ready to get started. If you’d approach the Anchor—”
“Ah, no need.” The thin man snapped his fingers, and the sphere in the center of the room responded. It pulsed with an unseen energy as it rotated, slowly ramping up as the tendrils on its surface reacted in kind.
The thin man gave Summers one last smile.
“We’ll see you off.”
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Asle watched as the sphere in the center of the room began to vibrate. Then, all
at once, the world seemed to split.
There was a flash of light, and the room was suddenly much, much larger, with several very confused soldiers standing on the other side.
Before they could react, the colonel approached the threshold, her hands raised.
That was good thinking on her part. The soldiers on the other side were all armed, and surprised. She was shouting some kind of jargon Asle couldn’t quite understand, but she’d announced her title, so Asle was confident her meaning would get through.
A few feet away, Summers stood beside the thin man. He’d tensed once the Anchor started to do something. Now that the colonel was closer, he only seemed more focused.
“We’re going to start heading across, no more than three bodies at a time,” the colonel announced. “I want the injured up and going, now!”
Asle saw a group of soldiers help limping and bandaged men to their feet.
She questioned the reasoning behind the colonel’s order before remembering what had happened to the beast they’d encountered when they first got here. It had been torn to pieces when the “portal” turned off.
Considering its opening or closing was dependent on their enemy, she could imagine what that would do to a human body. In fact, from what Summers had told them, the colonel was probably more than aware of that fact herself.
Another man took a soldier under his arm, helping one who was missing a leg.
“Delta . . .” The colonel approached their group. “We have people coming to handle your team’s transfer once this is done. Contamination procedure. Need you to hang tight until then.”
“Understood,” Nowak replied.
There was an implied order there. They were still outsiders to the army at large; they’d need to be watched. That was something she would need to get used to all over again.
She’d found somewhere she belonged, somewhere she could be useful, where she was trusted, and where she could live a real life. And now, that was going to end. But it wasn’t the worst fate she could imagine. At least she had friends.
Bit by bit, the soldiers from their side began to move to the other.
“Squads One and Three!” the colonel shouted.
At once, the soldiers that were called began to cross over. The soldiers on the other side all held weapons at the ready, watching for anything strange, but not showing any outright hostility.
