Infinity

by Stan C. Smith

  “Heart to blood, muscle to bone, client flesh above my own.

  With self-sacrifice near, my fuel is fear.

  By bridger means and might, clients will not fight.

  I aspire to inspire before I expire.

  Bide within the law I must, in untainted client trust.”

  There—she had it. Close enough, anyway. Striker and Tempest had created the five principles of the creed, and although Infinity thought the wording was a little overdramatic, she was determined to make the principles a part of her consciousness and adhere to them on every excursion. She was ready to put her life on the line to keep her clients safe.

  She glanced at the clock. 6:39 AM. As promised, a med tech had come to her room at 6:00 and given her doses of the radioisotope, technetium-99m, both orally and by injection. Apparently, this substance was pretty damn important because it was what would allow her to bridge back to this universe after thirty-six hours. Without the radioisotope, she’d be stuck in the alternate timeline permanently.

  Infinity sighed. She actually knew more about the bridging technology now than she cared to know. After she, Tequila, and the anthropologists had signed their final nondisclosure agreements the previous night, Doyle had briefed them on some of the details he thought they should know. Too many details, in Infinity’s opinion. Apparently, the scientists who had built the bridging device understood less about how it actually worked than Doyle had previously let on. The technology had been the result of an accidental discovery, and although scientists had pieced together a functional device, no one actually knew exactly how it worked. Which was a terrific thing to be told just before bridging out for the first time.

  Someone tapped a few times on her door.

  “It’s unlocked.”

  Tequila came in wearing only a pair of old shorts.

  Infinity raised her brows.

  “No point wearing good clothes,” he said.

  She hadn’t thought of this, but he was right—it would be a waste to wear anything at all into the bridging chamber. She considered stripping down but decided she didn’t want to be naked on the walk to the bridging chamber. She took a long drink from her water bottle, knowing full well that she was going to lose most of what she drank. She looked around her room one last time. Everything was in its place. If she were to return from the excursion crushed, drowned, hacked to pieces, or partially digested, then at least her room wouldn’t be a mess when SafeTrek personnel came to get it ready for a replacement bridger. She nodded at Tequila, and they headed for the bridging chamber.

  They would have to pass through the med lab to get to the bridging chamber, and since the airlock hatches to the lab were standing open, they went ahead and stepped through. Striker, Doyle, and the two anthropologists were already in the lab. Bustling around them were at least eight techs in white shirts, pants, and booties. Of course, these outfits would be replaced by bio-suits when Infinity’s group bridged back.

  Doyle smiled warmly at Infinity as she and Tequila approached. “The first woman in history to bridge,” he said. “We’re all proud of you, Infinity.”

  Until now, no one had actually told Infinity she would be the first woman, and this additional last-minute knowledge didn’t help her nerves.

  “She’s the first?” Tequila asked. “What if the bridging device doesn’t know how to deal with female body parts?”

  Doyle stared at Tequila as if he were uncertain about how to respond to this question.

  “He’s just being an idiot,” Infinity said.

  “He likes to lighten the mood,” Striker added, not smiling. “Okay, well, time is running short. Before we enter the chamber, you all might as well remove your clothes.” He pulled off his t-shirt and shorts and stood naked before them. “Or you can leave them on, if you don’t mind losing them.”

  Tequila peeled off his shorts, and Infinity took a deep breath and started removing her own clothing.

  Doyle handed each of them a clear, zippered bag with their name on it. “You can put your clothes in these. They’ll be returned to you after your patho-cleansing and chemo-cleansing.”

  Jarvis and Horton looked at each other nervously, and then they started stripping. Both men appeared to be about forty, and they seemed reasonably fit. Of course, if they hadn’t been fit, they wouldn’t have been allowed to do this in the first place.

  “I’ll brief you with last-minute instructions once we’re inside the chamber,” Striker said. “Follow me.” He headed for the chamber’s open airlock.

  “Godspeed to you all,” Doyle said. “Doctors Knighton and Munns, I hope you have the experience of a lifetime on your excursion. I am somewhat envious of what lies ahead of you. But a man my age has no business attempting such a thing.” He looked at Tequila and then at Infinity. “Bridgers, I know you’ll take good care of them.”

  Doyle had called them bridgers. Infinity couldn’t help but smile.

  Infinity, Tequila, and the clients passed through the airlock and into the bridging chamber. The padded floor felt cold and sterile under Infinity’s feet.

  Striker stood in the middle of the chamber, pointed at the floor, and instructed them to stand near him. When they were all in place, he looked at Infinity and Tequila and said, “Bridgers, you know the drill. First thing when we arrive, we assess our surroundings. Evaluate any immediate danger and act accordingly. If necessary, get Jarvis and Horton to safety. Do what you’ve been trained to do.”

  Striker turned to Jarvis and Horton. “This is your excursion. Your grant money is paying for it. We’ll do what we can to facilitate your observations. But during the first minutes after bridging, you need to pay close attention to us and do exactly what we tell you to do. Once we know you’re safe from any possible threats, then you can begin the work you need to do. Understood?”

  The two men nodded. Their eyes were wide, and Jarvis was visibly trembling.

  “Take a look at this,” Striker said, pointing to a four-inch scar on the back of his thigh. “I got this from a lizard. I couldn’t even begin to tell you what kind of lizard, but I know that it was mean and weighed a few hundred pounds. I have a scar from this encounter, and the client I was protecting at the time doesn’t. I wouldn’t have it any other way, because that’s my job. Do what we say, when we say it, and we’ll do everything in our power to bring you back unharmed.”

  The two men nodded again. “Understood,” Horton said. “And thank you.”

  “Three minutes until bridge-out,” the tech announced.

  “Bridging isn’t painful,” Striker said. “But it’s a bit uncomfortable and disorienting. People describe the sensation in different ways, but most people say it feels wet. It’s likely you’ll feel temporary nausea immediately after we bridge. Just go with it. If you need to throw up, that’s fine. You won't be able to get much out anyway because your stomach will be empty."

  He widened his stance and slapped both his knees. “Hold your legs apart like this.” The anthropologists complied. “Now bend your knees slightly. After we bridge, you’re going to drop to the ground. Sometimes the drop is a few inches, sometimes as much as a foot. It’s built in as a safety measure. The bridging device scans the area in the destination world to make sure we aren’t bridging into a solid object, or appearing over water or too close to a dangerous drop-off. Your goal is to land without losing your balance. We don’t want you falling and hitting your head on a rock. After you land and get your balance, then you can double over or go to your knees to deal with the dry heaves.” He eyed the two men, who were both wide-eyed and sweating. “You guys okay?”

  Horton said, “I suppose it’s too late to change our minds.”

  “One minute until bridge-out.”

  Striker pointed up at the ceiling speaker. “It is now. You’re going to be fine.”

  They all stood in silence as the seconds passed.

  Striker raised his arms to shoulder height. “Extend your arms like this. It'll give you better balance, but more impor
tantly the bridging device scans your body just before you bridge, and this helps. The scan, along with your doses of radioisotope, are what the device will use to locate your body at the time of bridge-back.”

  Even if your body is in a hundred pieces, Infinity mused, although she wasn’t about to say this aloud.

  “Ten seconds until bridge-out.”

  Infinity's fingers tingled and her muscles twitched as excess adrenaline flowed through her body. Cage fighting was nothing compared to this. She was more alive than ever and ready for anything.

  “Five seconds. Four. Three. Two. One.”

  The white walls of the bridging chamber disappeared.

  12

  River

  Infinity’s skin burned, but only for a moment. This was followed by the sensation of cool slime oozing from her pores and covering her skin. Before she could look down at her body, she dropped several inches, and her feet sank into something dry and scratchy.

  By the time she realized she was standing in thick, cropped grass, her gut tightened, and she vomited. Nothing came out but a few drops of saliva, hanging from her mouth in long strands.

  “¡Ay, caramba!” Tequila cried. “That’s a freaking trip!”

  “Open terrain, with no obvious threats,” said Striker, his voice perfectly calm. “It looks like we’re on an island. Is anyone injured?”

  Both of the anthropologists had fallen to their knees and were now getting up. “I think I’m okay,” one of them said, rubbing his now-bald head.

  “I’m okay as well,” the other said.

  Without their hair, the two men looked more similar than they had before, and Infinity had to stare at them for a moment before she was sure that Jarvis Knighton was the one who’d spoken first.

  She wiped her mouth and looked around. The sky was gray and overcast, and the air was warm, smelling humid and fishy. The patch of grass they were standing in was about ten yards across and was surrounded by rocks and jumbled driftwood. Beyond that was a slow-flowing river of brownish-green water. Infinity turned, only to see essentially the same thing in every direction. They were on a treeless island no more than forty yards wide and a hundred yards long. The island split the river into two channels, each channel about fifty yards wide. The far shore on either side was sparsely forested, and grassy hills rose beyond the trees.

  “It’s a river,” said Jarvis. “We’re in the middle of a river.”

  “And there’s no sign of human civilization anywhere,” Horton added. “This is not at all what we expected, nor is it what we requested.”

  Infinity turned and glared at him. “You requested a world with a 50,000-year divergence. And that’s what you got.”

  Striker said, “Remember, this is rural Missouri—or whatever the people here call it. The nearest town could be miles away.”

  Horton looked around at the terrain and rubbed his bald scalp. “How are we supposed to make our observations? We’re in the middle of a river!”

  Striker growled. “Alright, shut up for a minute. Let’s figure out our next move. The way I see it, we have two choices. Option number one: we can wait out our thirty-six hours here on this island, and you can hope that your next excursion drops you into a world that fits better with the theory you're trying to prove. Option number two: we can wade or swim to shore and then start searching for signs of humans.”

  “Staying here is out of the question,” Horton said. “This excursion was extremely expensive, and if we can’t observe the state of civilization in this world, it will skew the results of our study.”

  Striker nodded. “Okay, that’s a start. Next we need to determine whether we can safely get to shore.” He started making his way to the nearest river channel.

  Infinity gazed down at the grass beneath her feet. “Um, Striker?”

  He stopped and turned to her.

  “I think I know why all the bio-probe animals returned alive,” she said. “They must have spent the entire thirty-six hours on this island. That’s why the grass is cropped short.” She pointed down. “They ate it.”

  Tequila spoke up. “If the animals were trapped here together, then why didn’t the cats eat the rats and mice?”

  Infinity gestured toward the rocks and jumbled wood. “There are plenty of hiding places.”

  Striker kneeled and examined the grass. “You’re right. And you know what that means? The bio-probe only proved that the atmosphere and climate are fine for sustaining mammals—it didn’t tell us a damn thing about possible threats beyond this island.”

  “But we’re still going to shore, right?” Horton pleaded. “We really need to observe the humans who live in this area.”

  Striker stood up, frowning. “Can everyone here swim?”

  They all confirmed that they could.

  “Then yes, we’re still going to shore,” he said. “But I want everyone to keep their eyes peeled for any possible threat. We have no idea what we’re going to encounter.”

  The group picked their way through the rocks and driftwood as they approached the water’s edge. Striker took a quick look upstream and then downstream. He told everyone to wait on the shore and started wading into the river. He stopped when he was about ten feet out. The water was at his waist.

  “I think this is doable,” he said over his shoulder. “Not too deep, and the current is manageable. The bottom feels sandy out here, but it’s rockier near shore. Watch your step.”

  Infinity glanced over at Tequila. He was frowning at the water. “You okay with this, partner?” she asked.

  His cheeks inflated, and then he blew out a puff of air. He nodded. “Let’s get this done.”

  Infinity turned to Horton. “I know you’re a grown man, but you’re going to hold my hand.” She then turned to Jarvis. “You hold Horton’s hand, and Tequila is going to hold onto your other hand. I’ll be in the lead, and Tequila will bring up the rear.”

  “Good thinking, Infinity,” Striker said. “Stay directly behind me.”

  Infinity gripped Horton’s hand and began wading in. As they waded out to their knees, Horton and Jarvis stumbled a few times but managed to stay upright, and soon the large rocks gave way to fine sand. Infinity’s feet sank to her ankles with every step, but the group was making steady progress.

  By the time they were halfway across, the water had become chest deep, making it harder to stay on course without being pulled downstream by the current. But still they were moving steadily toward the far shore.

  Infinity glanced downstream just in time to see a brown shape submerge itself beneath the water’s surface, a long, pointed tail flipping briefly into the air before the creature disappeared. A few seconds later, its head emerged again, closer this time, and Infinity heard it blow out a wheezing breath. Wiry whiskers protruded from both sides of its snout, and it had small black eyes, which appeared to be fixed on the humans as the creature continued swimming directly toward them.

  “I see it,” Striker said just as Infinity was about to alert him. “It looks to me like a river otter. Otters are usually harmless, but this one’s larger than any otter I’ve seen, so I’m not taking any chances.” He allowed the current to start carrying him toward the otter. “Get the clients to shore. I’ll make sure it keeps its distance.” He started waving his arms and shouting at the approaching creature. The otter dove under again. Seconds later it surfaced only twenty yards from Striker. Its size was now becoming more apparent—it was at least as large as a dolphin.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t antagonize that thing,” Tequila called to Striker.

  “Just get them out of the water!” Striker shouted.

  “Hurry!” Infinity ordered. She quickened her pace, pumping her legs and pulling on Horton’s hand. She glanced over her shoulder. Striker wasn’t following them to shore, instead positioning himself to block the creature from approaching the anthropologists. The otter wasn’t slowing down.

  Infinity was now ten yards from shore. Five yards. Soon the water was only knee deep, and
seconds later she was pulling the others onto dry land.

  “It’s okay,” Striker called out. “The damn thing’s just curious.”

  The otter was circling him, swimming near the surface with its massive head held completely out of the water.

  Something about the way the otter was circling Striker made Infinity feel uneasy. It was like the creature was sizing him up.

  “We don’t have time to play with the wildlife,” Tequila shouted. “You coming or not?”

  Striker started moving toward the shore. Infinity could hear him speaking calmly to the circling otter. “Easy, boy. We’re not here to hurt you.”

  The otter dove and disappeared with a flip of its tail.

  Infinity’s throat tightened. The creature had been headed straight for Striker as it went under.

  Striker froze, scanning the surface of the water around him. Something pushed him to the side, knocking him off his feet. He grunted and flailed his arms, and then he went under. Seconds went by. Finally, Striker’s head came up several yards from where he’d disappeared. He was still being dragged. The otter’s tail flipped out of the water briefly, and Striker’s head went under again. He re-emerged and sputtered before crying out, “Run! Get them to safety!” The otter’s back and tail emerged as the creature rolled violently, pulling the bridger under yet again.

  Infinity suddenly felt like she was in a dream—this was all happening so fast. She took a deep breath to clear her mind and then glanced at Tequila. “Get them somewhere safe!” she ordered. Then she plunged into the water, wading out toward Striker as fast as she could.

  “Passie, no!”

  Something hit her in the back, knocking her face-down into the knee-deep water. She floundered, and a hand pulled her up until her face was inches from Tequila’s.

  “No!” he repeated, pointing. “There’s more than one.”

  She looked. He was right—a second otter was now swimming upstream toward Striker.

  Tequila helped her to her feet. “The clients come first. Those things can probably run faster on land than we can. Let’s go—now!” He started pulling her back toward the shore.