by JK Galioto
He was the first to see the symbols around the edge of the portal begin glowing bright blue. Pulling himself out of his musing, he let out a long sigh of relief and ran toward the door. The activation was followed by a large piece of birch bark covered in rough charcoal writing.
“Bro. Making progress. Found enemy. Send Geoe and Topher. Jack.”
Cryptic as ever. Chad wondered why Jack couldn’t send more pieces of birch bark, but assumed it was a limitation of the portal. At least his brother was still alive and seemed to be doing okay. Chad had so many questions for Jack: who or what was the enemy, how was Jack making progress, and how was he able to power up the portal? But instead, he got a few words written on a piece of bark, and like a trained dog, he would follow its command. He grinned inwardly; it was nice to see his brother taking charge and doing something productive with his life. It was the one benefit of the entire situation. He always knew his brother had great potential, if only he applied himself.
Chad ran back to his tent and began issuing orders to power up the chopper, assuming time was of the essence. Earlier in the week, after they retrieved Gooch, Chad had asked his aides, Clark and Justin, to pull together dossiers on each of Jack’s friends, so he already knew where to find both of them. Geoe was down in Houston and Topher was in Green Bay. He decided to get Geoe first and then swing by and pick up Topher. He would try to persuade them to join the cause, but honestly, they didn’t really have a choice.
Less than an hour later, Chad was on a Gulfstream jet flying toward Houston. He reread Geoe’s dossier on the way.
His real name was George Williams, but Jack and his friends called him Geoe. He graduated from Notre Dame with a math degree before going to MIT to pursue a doctorate in applied mathematics. After that, he found a job with NASA performing mathematical modeling to plot space vehicle trajectory, asteroids, and other things Chad didn’t quite understand. He was single as the day he was born and the file didn’t say if he was currently seeing anyone or if he lived by himself or with roommates. The only other thing of note was Geoe’s interests, which included disc golf, running, and LARPing, whatever that was.
His helicopter landed in a large, mostly empty NASA parking lot a few hours later. It was amazing what the US Army could do when you had an unlimited budget and a world-threatening crisis. It was 5:30 p.m., and most of the employees were gone, but Chad noted George’s dark grey BMW 3 series sitting in the parking lot, right where his recon team said it would be. He stepped out of the still-whirring helicopter and made his way to the main doors of a large, white concrete building emblazoned with the NASA logo. The building was half museum and half workspace for the over one thousand scientists it employed. As promised, Geoe waited for him just inside the building in a large conference room labeled “Atlantis.”
He was a skinny, middle-aged man with brown hair and pale skin that looked like it hadn’t seen the light of day in quite some time. His intelligent, brown eyes flitted back and forth, betraying his relaxed posture when he saw Chad enter the room.
“Chad?” he questioned as he stood up, walking over to meet the major. “Is Jack okay? What did he get himself into now?” He was jittery, his hands shaking in worry as he nervously scratched the bridge of his regal nose.
“It’s nothing Jack did; well, it is kind of what Jack did. Listen, we need to talk. Take a seat,” Chad commanded, taking a seat in one of the plush, large black chairs. After Geoe had seated himself, Chad jumped into a clinical chronology of what was going on with the portal, how his soldiers kept dying, and how he had resorted to using his brother as a final option. He finished his description of the timeline with the final updates, letting George know that Gooch was already over with Jack.
Geoe had the normal reaction. He stood up out of his chair and began looking for cameras. “Okay, Chad, I know you’re pulling my leg. Ha-ha, make fun of the math geek. Where’s the camera?”
“I wish I was joking, George, but this is all too real,” Chad avowed, dreading the thought of queuing up video after video of soldiers meeting their fate through the portal to convince him. His visage became even more grave when he thought of the poor souls who’d made the trip back.
“Even if I believed this, which I don’t, why do you need me?” Geoe asked, starting to pace a bit, looking anywhere but at Chad.
Chad pulled out the piece of birch bark that he received from Jack and showed it to George, who visibly paled even further. “This is r-r-real? And he wants me? And T-topher? Why us? I’m not a trained soldier. Heck, I’ve never shot a gun in my life. The c-c-closest I’ve come to swinging a sword is fencing class at Notre Dame and LARPing on the weekends. There have to be better people.”
“On this we agree,” Chad stated. He noticed Geoe was stuttering a little under the pressure but ignored it. “But unfortunately, sending in more qualified people doesn’t seem to work. At this point, I have to trust that Jack knows what he’s doing.”
“B-b-but—” Geoe sputtered before Chad cut him off.
“Listen, I know this is a lot to take in. But our world is in trouble and Jack thinks you’re his best shot to help. I can’t make you come with me, so I guess it comes down to how much you trust Jack.”
Geoe thought about it a moment longer, then took a deep breath and spoke, stutter gone. “As sure as E equals MC squared, Jack has never let me down. If Jack says he needs me, then he needs me. Let’s go.” The about-face in George’s demeanor took Chad by surprise, but he didn’t dwell on it. Jack had a way of inspiring loyalty in his friends; maybe they all took pity on how his life had turned out, because Chad didn’t understand it. “If you are punking me, at least it will be on Uncle Sam’s dime, M-m-major Jensen!”
A few hours later, they were closing in on Green Bay. As Geoe stared out the window, Chad reviewed Topher’s dossier as they began their descent. Topher was Japanese from his mother’s side and German from his father’s side, and his real name was Christopher Sebastian Campbell. After graduating from Merrill High School with Jack, he stayed around Merrill for a few years before attending North Central Technical College, where he received an associate degree in information technology. There were a few years missing in the records, but Topher eventually received his associate of applied science in culinary arts from Kendall College of Culinary Arts in Chicago. He’d found a girlfriend there and a few years later they moved to Green Bay, where she had grown up, and got married. According to the dossier, Topher and his wife had two boys, twelve and fifteen. Topher owned and operated two restaurants in Green Bay and was a chef of some renown in the area. The only other interests noted in the dossier were small engine mechanics and oil painting.
Chad didn’t know how he felt about taking someone away from their wife and kids, but if Topher couldn’t help Jack, it would be more than his kids that suffered. Topher lived a few miles from Austin Straubel Airport, so Chad and George took the waiting black Escalade to his house.
Chad knocked on the door of the dark red two-story house on a quiet street in a quiet neighborhood. To his delight, Topher opened the door. It had been over twenty years since Chad had seen Topher, but he looked like a slightly larger version of the kid he knew from back then. Straight black hair, blue eyes, and fairly tall at six foot one, Topher was a well-built man with what could be considered a “dad bod,” muscle starting to turn to fat and the beginnings of a beer gut showing through his black “Gnomes Rule!” T-shirt. His almond shaped eyes were the only other sign of his Asian heritage.
Seeing Chad and Geoe, he pumped his fist in the air and yelled, “Hell yeah!” Craning his neck back toward the innards of the house, he howled, “Hey Honey, government needs me. Call you from the road!” Turning back to Chad and Geoe, who had stunned expressions on their faces, he continued, “Adventure, right? Fill me in on the way, let’s go!”
“Same old Topher,” Geoe grinned, stepping forward and planting a large hug on his friend.
Midlife crisis much? Chad was taken aback but didn’t see a reason
to dwell on it as he led Topher to the car.
Six hours later, they were standing in front of the portal. Chad gave them the same speech he gave Gooch.
“As far as I’m concerned, you all are expendable. Protect my little brother; he is the key to this whole thing.” Chad wasn’t sure if that was true, but he wanted to make sure these civilian dipshits would take care of his little brother. “And tell my brother that I need more details next time he can send something through the portal. We need to know how to prepare our defenses for whatever is coming.”
“You could use some work on your bedside manner, Doc!” Topher slapped the major on the back and did a half-dive into the awaiting portal.
With that, Chad ushered the more hesitant George through, wishing he could join them, but instead heading back to his tent to file another miserable report to the generals. He did not turn back to watch the portal return to its inert state.
Epilogue: Ravanan Empire
Dan-Jae stood near the communication crystal in the command-wing operations center, waiting patiently for the next communiqué from the scout team tasked with the investigation and repair of Portal NE1-469. He’d signed off on the requisite forms that had allowed for their travel to be expedited via the teleport circle system, which shaved a significant amount of time off the journey. The Spreadsheet had calculated their estimated arrival time, considering a myriad of variables, and had narrowed down their communication time to a ten-minute window.
It was nearing the eighth minute of the window, but Dan-Jae was not worried. After all, he could count on one hand the number of times the Spreadsheet had missed the target window for predictions in the Rigara campaign, one of the more orderly and precise campaigns he had run. In fact, according to the records, this campaign was in the top five percent of all campaigns for its overall efficiency. The Spreadsheet would not, could not, let him down. The Spreadsheet abides, the Spreadsheet is life!
Glancing over his shoulder at the others in the room, he shuddered at the thought of his time before he ascended to lead auditor. It was not anger or disdain he felt, but pity. With their small concerns and even smaller intellects, they could not hope to reach his level, much less fully comprehend the full glory of the Ravanan Empire’s sacred duty. While he had loved being in the field, his potential had been wholly unrealized.
He would finish out this campaign, and by the well-defined progression plan set forth in the Ravanan Conformity Statutes, he would be automatically promoted to head overseer, the final stepping-stone before reaching the upper echelon of Ravanan governance.
Thinking about how inadequate his underlings and peers were, he couldn’t help but think that someone was about to be demoted for letting that irritating buzzing continue for as long as it had. Let’s see, who will be sent for reconditioning today?
Dan-Jae scanned the room and turned his head forward before he fully comprehended the situation, his stomach lurching. His mood fell in kind when the source of the buzzing became apparent—the anomaly crystal. His anomaly crystal.
The report from his scout team was past due and was causing his anomaly crystal to react. He furrowed his scaly brow in consternation as he licked his lips nervously. His anxiety passed, but the implication did not. The team had not reported in. This would not look good. No, it would not look good at all.
Without looking up from the crystal, he spoke loudly to the room. “Someone get me the status of the war on Cornado; we may need to pull K-Margrit and her army over to Lyran sooner than calculated, based on new variables.” He would deal with this anomaly like he’d dealt with other minor nuisances throughout his career; it would not interfere with his promotion to head overseer. After a moment of uncharacteristic indecision, he added, “Get me the creature known as Mandrake as well; it is time we find out exactly how much loyalty our gold has purchased.”
The End of the Heroes of Last Resort, Book 1 of the Other Guys Series.
