“FBI. Stand down, soldier.” Agent Lovitsky slowed and held up his badge. “Mr. Fuller and I don’t want to be late for the test.” Lovitsky’s eyes widened. “Ah, Joanie. I see you’re still on duty.”
The guard lowered his rifle as Lovitsky passed and searched for other threats.
“John, please follow me,” Agent Lovitsky said. “And thanks, Joanie, for your assistance.” They followed Joanie down the four wooden steps to the cellar laboratory and locked the door behind them.
Miller found the entrance to the bunker locked. He banged on the metal door until a soldier appeared. The guardsman patted him down, took his sidearm, and escorted him inside.
Eight uniformed soldiers operated the computers, communication equipment, and radar. Two others faced targeting monitors as their hands hovered over the joysticks. A large television screen displayed the field below, where the guard had removed trees to improve lines of sight and fire. Armstrong sat near the screen at a large metal desk. He took off his headset and waved Miller over to a nearby chair.
“Agent Miller,” Colonel Armstrong said. “Behave, and I’ll let you watch as a professional courtesy. We can talk about your Agent Lovitsky later.”
Miller’s face grew hot. “George, you have to listen–”
“I’m in command here, and you will refer to me as Colonel, or Sir. Understood?” The man’s face glowed with a mixture of supercilious pride and smug satisfaction.
“Colonel, please postpone the test. We were able to recon this morning, and the enemy has superior numbers and weapons.” Miller blew out a breath. “If we go through with the test, it will be a huge clusterfuck.”
“I’m no fool. I have my own intel. Our DOD team interviewed the Terran prisoners early this morning. We can handle whatever they bring to the table.”
Miller ground his teeth. “I’m not talking about the goddam Terrans. There’s another world called ‘Erde’ in play. They have advanced weaponry- lasers and robots for God’s sake. Far beyond our capabilities. They will crush us!”
“A world with lasers and robots? I’ve heard about Ben Fuller and his portal watch.” Armstrong smirked. “You place a lot of trust in the word of a boy. One you haven’t been able to catch.”
“Listen to me.” Miller waved his hands in front of his face. “I’ve seen it myself.”
Armstrong smiled. “OK. Tell me about the lasers.” His breath smelled like hazelnut coffee and cigarettes.
“Their laser cut through a steel pipe in less than a second. They have warrior robots as well.” Miller checked the display clock on the monitor. He had forty seconds.
“Even better.” Armstrong grinned. “My mission is as follows: protect the beacon; test the beacon, no thanks to Agent Lovitsky; repel and destroy any enemy incursion; and capture any and all advanced weaponry. Our Special Forces team is ready to test our latest pulse rifle technology.”
Armstrong put his headset back on his right ear. “If we capture the new tech you’ve described, we’ll solidify our rightful place in the world and save billions of dollars in research.” Armstrong held up his right hand. “Okay, men. We are a go in three, two, one—”
“No!” Miller yelled, as he reached for Armstrong’s arm. A guardsman grabbed Miller’s shoulders from behind and slammed him back into his chair.
“Cuff him to the desk and gag him,” Armstrong said. “Agent Miller may watch as his rank deserves. This day will indeed be glorious.”
Chapter 48
John followed Joanie inside Patrick’s cellar laboratory. Bright overhead lights illuminated the scientists who made last minute adjustments to their own electronic equipment. A female technician in a white lab coat fine-tuned a control panel, while Dr. Caliban monitored a portable radar scope. Near the emergency off button on the far wall, stood a guardsman.
On John’s left, a large television monitor displayed the freshly cleared field outside. All of the National Guard’s firepower had been aimed at the small booster antenna in the center of the field, as if they were certain the portal would open at that exact location.
Lovitsky held up his badge once more. “I’m FBI and I’m here to stop the test. Do not turn on the beacon.”
Dr. Caliban glanced up from the scope and narrowed his eyes. “Agent Lovitsky, you know I have the lead. We continue as planned.”
“No, Dr. Caliban.” Lovitsky pointed his finger at the Director. “We’re all in grave danger. I order you to stop the test now!”
The nearby guardsman flinched. His eyes ping-ponged between the agent and Dr. Caliban, but kept his rifle at the ready with the muzzle down.
The elder scientist stepped forward. “Relax, Agent. It’s too late. I activated the signal ninety seconds ago.” Caliban pointed to the large monitor. “So far, nothing has happened.”
The beacon hummed and John’s heartbeat quickened. Oh, Jesus. He slid the walkie-talkie from his right pants pocket, and placed his thumb near the detonation button. If Erde invaded Earth, its army could destroy his world. His family was in danger. Glancing at the television monitor, John watched the air shimmer above the antenna outside.
“We have contact at ground zero,” the technician said. Her thin pale fingers danced over the keyboard.
Beads of perspiration covered John’s face. There wasn’t enough time to evacuate the room. He lifted the detonator above his head. God forgive me. “Shut down the beacon, or I’ll destroy everything in this room.”
Eyes filled with surprise and terror turned toward him.
Lovitsky took a step back.
The guardsman aimed his rifle at John’s head, but hesitated.
Joanie drew her weapon. “Drop it, John.”
“Stand down, everyone!” Caliban cried. “Lower your weapons. We can sort this out.”
The guard lowered his rifle to 45 degrees as did Joanie.
“The portal strengthens,” called the technician.
John’s throat grew tight. I love you, Patty and Ben. He pushed the button and sent the radio signal to the detonator. Nothing happened. His eyebrows furrowed and he pressed the button again. No explosion. Nothing.
“Fuck!” Lovitsky cried as his body shook.
Caliban glanced at John with tired eyes and shook his head. He turned around and picked up a dismantled detonator from a nearby table. “Mr. Lovitsky, did you think I would overlook this?”
John dropped the walkie-talkie on floor. His knees felt weak. What do I do now?
An alarm pinged. “Ah,” Caliban said. “Our equipment has detected a stable portal.”
The technician nodded. “Ground zero with a twenty foot radius.”
A second alarm sounded.
“Dr. Caliban,” she said. “We have a second portal.”
“Where?” Caliban peered over the scientist’s shoulder.
“Two miles west and about 300 feet over Carmichael, but . . . now it’s closed.”
The alarm sounded again.
“We have third—”
“Where?” Caliban’s eyes studied the screen.
“Right behind you, Phylo,” Patrick said to Caliban. “I’m surprised to see you in my lab. You know you’re not allowed in here without my consent.”
Caliban narrowed his eyes. “If you’ve come to collect on our golf bet, it’ll have to wait. We’re in the middle of an important test.”
“One that might get us all killed.” Patrick pointed a .45 revolver at the guardsman’s chest. “Drop the gun, son. Everyone stand down. Now! We’re here to save lives.”
The guardsman tensed, but set his rifle on the ground slowly.
Joanie glanced at Lovitsky.
Lovitsky shook his head. “That’s Dr. McDugan.”
John grinned as Ben, Brandon, and Lori followed Patrick into the cellar through the third portal, just to the left of the emergency off button. Ben smiled at him and closed the portal. Jack wasn’t with them anymore.
“Step aside, soldier,” Patrick waved the guard away from the off button.
As the guard stepped back, Patrick pushed the off button. The lights dimmed, and came back on. The beacon continued to hum.
Caliban cleared his throat. “Patrick, we’ve hardwired the beacon to batteries and a back-up generator near the bunker.”
“The portal remains stable,” the technician said. “We’re under attack.”
Inside the bunker, Miller sat gagged and handcuffed to the metal desk. He jerked at his restraints as the portal came to life on the television monitor.
The portal opening appeared much larger than he’d expected. As the resolution of what lay beyond the portal cleared, he observed Erde’s dark and dirty sky, possibly 800 or more troops, and two large armored vehicles the size of a doublewide trailer. Multiple gun turrets and missile launchers perched atop each vehicle.
Miller’s eyes opened wide. Tall green humanoid robots spilled through the portal followed by waves of human soldiers in red metal armor. They looked like demons pouring through a gate from hell.
“Open fire,” Armstrong called. “Target the troops. Send anti-tank missiles through the portal now. Don’t let those monster tanks reach our side.” Armstrong glanced at him. “Agent Miller, it appears your intel was correct.”
Miller glared back.
The colonel used multiple cameras to watch the battlefield from every angle on the large monitor screen. Heavy caliber machine guns, mortars, and rockets fired upon the enemy troops. Red armored enemy soldiers returned laser fire, but their dead littered the field near the portal.
Miller winced as many of the green robots survived the bombardment and bounded over the obstacles in the killing field. Fortunately, their advance triggered proximity mines. Razor sharp shrapnel flashed through the air dropping more than half of the green devils.
Armstrong gave orders as robots fried U.S. defensive positions with bright bursts of burning laser light. Dirt, lead, fire, and smoke filled the air and obscured the battle. Vibrations rattled the bunker. THUMP, WHUMP, WHUMPPP! The metal furniture shook and a nearby light bulb flared out.
Blood burned in Miller’s veins. He jerked his handcuffs and tried to shout through his gag. “Give me my gun!” I refuse to die like this.
Armstrong, focused on the battle, paid him no heed. “Get me eyes from above and 180 degrees.”
“Camera 12, Sir,” the technician said hurriedly.
Exhausted, Miller slumped back into his chair and watched as the technician panned the camera to gain a clearer view of the U.S. defenses. Outside, the guardsmen fought bravely, but lost ground. Green and red enemies sliced through American soldiers with laser fire. Erdian troops rampaged through the portal and the enormous tanks drew closer. After only ten minutes, Miller knew this would be an historic battle, and yet, a stunning defeat.
“Call in the A-10s,” Armstrong said. “And move the Special Forces unit forward. We need those pulse rifles now!” Armstrong spared him a wild-eyed glance.
Agent Miller’s fingers hung onto the metal desk as the front tracks of the large armored vehicle crept through the portal. The behemoth bristled with laser fire. A US anti-tank missile flew into the enemy tank’s side armor and flickered, but the explosion only took off one laser port.
“Did you see that?” Armstrong said.
The technician nodded. “Looks like a force-field, Sir.”
Armstrong pounded on his metal desk. “Bring in the air support. Now.”
An A-10 aircraft swooped past and fired a missile directly into the armored vehicle’s track. The blast stopped the tank halfway inside the portal and blocked the enemy traffic behind.
Two brown aerial drones launched from the top of the stalled enemy tank. The first raced below a gray sky, fired a small guided missile, and blew the right wing off the A-10. A cloud of smoke and fire blossomed in the sky as the jet spiraled into the ground.
“Oh, my God,” Armstrong whispered as he glared at the eighty inch monitor. “Target the second drone!”
Anti-aircraft fire burst skyward and skipped off the drone in flickers of light.
“Sir,” the technician said. “It’s also shielded.”
Miller watched in horror as the second drone flew over the bunker, fired a laser burst, and turned the radar dish into molten slag. Moments later, the same drone dropped a pineapple sized projectile directly over the bunker. Small rear propellers slowed the projectile’s descent as it maneuvered gracefully toward the open air shaft. Shit. A metal on metal clank and—
Patrick heard gunfire and explosions outside his cellar laboratory and ground his teeth. He studied the video screen, the shimmering portal to Erde, and the powerful enemy army beyond. The guardsmen appeared outmatched.
Patrick struggled with opposing thoughts. As retired Captain McDugan, USMC, he wanted to destroy the beacon and save the guardsmen’s lives, but as scientist Dr. McDugan, he wanted to save his transceiver and eventually contact his deceased wife. If he could only shut down the power. Yet, after pulling the power feed to the computer array and the transceivers, the beacon kept humming.
“Be careful, Patrick.” Caliban’s eyes darted around the room. “Your work is . . . revolutionary, but as a DOD employee, you’re way out of bounds. Step back and stay out of our way. Homeland needs this technology intact.”
“This is my equipment.” Patrick glared. “I decide what happens.”
“No, you don’t.” Caliban frowned. His white goatee obscured his pale lips. “I have specific orders to—”
“Belay those orders.” Patrick’s eyes flared behind his dark rimmed glasses. “You don’t understand the danger.”
THUMP. WHUMP. WHUMPPP! The house shook and the shelves rattled. A light dust drifted down from the rafters. Patrick glanced at the live-feed monitor and saw the Erdian robots overwhelm and obliterate the Guard’s forward defensive positions with handheld lasers. Blood and scorched bodies covered the ground. A powerful laser cannon carved through an M1 tank creating a tremendous explosion as the tank’s munitions detonated.
Patrick ground his teeth. He’d spent almost every free hour for the past six years working, often beyond midnight, designing, building, and testing his communication device, just so he could find his Betty. Though he hadn’t found her, not yet anyway, he’d found her doppelganger.
Patrick took a deep breath. Terra’s Miss Betsy was a fine woman, but she wasn’t his love. Could he settle for a look-a-like? He shook his head slowly. And now, after a huge scientific breakthrough, closer to success than he’d ever hoped, his heart fought his conscience in a duel for his soul. He knew what to do, but didn’t know if he had the strength to start all over again.
“GranPat.” Ben offered him the sledgehammer from the tool rack. “There’s no other way.”
“No.” Patrick shivered. “I’m . . . not sure I can.”
“Ok. Keep breathing, GranPat, and step aside.” Ben’s face rippled with concern, but his eyes held the truth. “Time to save the world.”
Patrick glanced at the video screen. Blood, death, and chaos reigned on the battlefield. An alien drone aircraft dropped something over the green tent at the top of the hill. Nodding to Ben, he moved out of the way.
Ben swung the heavy sledge down upon the central core of the transceiver.
Outside a huge explosion rocked the Earth shaking the house to its foundation. Patrick fell to his knees on the cement floor. Darkness took the room, save for the scant daylight filtering through the dirty cellar window. His life’s work lay broken on the table before him.
Sounds of gunfire and explosions penetrated the cellar from outside and were followed by the pit-pat of rain. Patrick felt a hand on his shoulder.
“GranPat. You okay?”
“Yes.” Patrick coughed. Dust filled the air. “Give me a hand up.”
As Ben helped him to his feet, Patrick heard others moving about. Across the table and near the bulkhead door, the female FBI agent found a flashlight and scanned the room. Caliban pulled himself up from the floor using the table. The S&T director bled fro
m a small cut on his dusty cheek. Brandon knelt next to Lori on his left.
“Lori, are you okay?” Brandon’s voice cracked.
“Yea. Just bumped my head,” she said as she stood. “What was that?”
“Couldn’t say for sure,” Caliban said, “but it felt like a bunker buster.”
“The command post has gone silent,” the technician said.
Patrick grimaced. “We’re lucky they didn’t drop one on our heads. Anyone need help?”
The FBI agent panned the room once more. “Looks like everyone’s okay.”
Ben handed the sledgehammer to Brandon “Finish this before they send one our way.”
Brandon lifted the sledge.
“Don’t hit the coolin’ tank.” Patrick pointed to the frosted tank next to the small dish antenna. “It’s filled with liquid nitrogen.”
“Got it.” Brandon drove the sledge down upon the rectangular transceivers on the center of the table. Glass and metal crunched as the housing collapsed on the internal components.
“Seriously?” Caliban’s voice shook with anger. “Stop! We need the components to reconstruct our own beacon.”
“Exactly,” Patrick replied. “Keep smashin’, Brandon.”
Brandon put his weight behind the powerful strokes, and turned the computer array into scrap.
“This isn’t necessary.” Caliban pleaded. “You’ve made your point.”
“Wait, don’t forget the doohickey on the dish,” Lori said. She grabbed a hammer and smashed the electronic feed horn on the small dish antenna. “That should do it.”
Both Caliban and Patrick winced.
Lori’s eye softened. “I’m sorry, but we’re safer without this machine.”
The house lights and the large TV monitor flickered and returned to life, but the camera feed was gone. Patrick surveyed the worktable and sighed. His beacon was beyond repair.
“They must have restarted the generator,” said the technician. Something rumbled outside, but it sounded more like thunder than munitions.
Slideways Page 31
