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Extinction

Page 4

by Korza, Jay


  Switching her comlink on, Daria cycled through a frequency test. Luckily, because she had received the message to gear up about twenty minutes after everyone else, she didn’t have to wait for the channels to clear up before doing the check. Sometimes you’d have to wait more than five minutes for a freq check when several platoons were gearing up at the same time, not to mention a base that held more than one hundred thousand marines.

  The last items Daria always packed were her field and fighting knives. She first grabbed her field knife that had a thick blade and a heavy handle. The handle had most of the checkering worn off from years of use but Daria refused to replace the knife. It was her first field knife and it had served her well. It had gouges in the sides of the blade where she had used it to dig for water or pry open a door or any other number of abuses that she dished out. This knife was placed in a holster on her left thigh.

  Then came the hard part—which fighting knives to take? She loved them all, and each had a quality that made it unique and deadly. Her first decision was on a combination knife that could also be used for throwing. It was weighted well and had a thin blade, as all fighting knives do, and a cord-wrapped handle. It had a bead-blasted flat black finish and was razor sharp. She placed this one in a holster on her right calf. This was primarily a backup weapon used as a last resort. It was best drawn from a kneeling position which you were usually in when it came down to your last resort, along with praying if you had the time.

  Next, she took a handcrafted, double-edged dagger from its place on the shelf and examined the blade. It was also razor sharp and had serrated edges from the middle of the blade on both sides that continued to the hilt. The razor sharp smooth edges on the upper half were best for slicing and stabbing during a fight while the serrations allowed for a jagged tear in one’s opponent after the sharp smooth blade penetrated flesh or light body armor. This one was holstered horizontally on her belt in the small of her back.

  Lastly, she picked up her most prized fighting knife that she carried on every mission. Mike had given it to her as a birthday gift several years ago. It was made of a carbon polymer that was stronger and lighter than titanium. It had no metal in it, so it was virtually undetectable by weapon scanners. The blade was thin and double edged only at the last inch towards the top of its full nine-inch length. The sides of the blade had been polished with a laser during its creation and were smooth as silk to the touch but completely non-reflective in any light. The edges were laced with laser sharpened diamonds that could barely be seen but allowed the weapon to cut through almost any body armor known and anything else that got in the way of a knowledgeable operator such as Daria.

  She drew the weapon from its sheath to examine it for any flaws, which she knew there were none. Holding the weapon in a reverse grip, she made small figure-eight motions with her wrist, practicing a basic cut that was meant to sever the arteries and tendons in an opponent’s outstretched arm. She quickly flipped the handle to put the blade in a forward position and made small poaching jabs towards Davies. Knowing her skill, he didn’t flinch at all but rather stood his ground, watching the master go through her basic routines.

  After a few more jabs and grip changes, she placed the weapon back in its sheath and placed it on her right thigh next to her sidearm. She looked Davies square in the eye. “I have something for you.” It came almost as a whisper. She handed him one of Mike’s old bandannas. He took it from her and realized that something was wrapped in it. He gently unwrapped the cloth and a wave of emotion welled up from within.

  “I can’t take this; it was Mike’s prized possession.” Even as he spoke, he couldn’t take his eyes off the fighting knife that was a twin to Daria’s own.

  Although it was Mike who had taught Daria how to fight, it was her natural ability and prowess as a hunter that made her the master she was today and that had also allowed her to far surpass Mike’s teachings.

  “I already have one and there’s no one else that Mike or I would rather want to use this weapon. Of course,” she added with a wry little smile, “knowing how agile you are, I’ll probably be sewing a finger back on you by the end of the day.”

  “Thank you,” he said softly, almost choking on his own words.

  “Come on, marine, I’ve done enough crying for the both of us in the past two weeks. So if you’ll just get your sorry ass out of my way, we’ll get this show on the road!” She started past him toward the hatch, but paused beside him and reached up with her hand to touch his shoulder. With an almost unseen wink, she squeezed tightly and let go just as fast and continued towards the assembly area.

  With that, Davies took one more look at Mike and Daria’s quarters and turned to follow her down the corridor. Unbeknownst to him, that would be the last time Davies ever saw those quarters.

  When they reached the assembly area five minutes later, he was still looking at the knife in its sheath. When he finally looked up, he saw the biggest FUBAR he had ever seen. As the old saying goes, “Idle hands do the devil’s work” and so it was with this group.

  Heated arguments had broken out here and there, what with all the different special divisions so close to one another and trying to out story tell each other. Claims of lies and other bantering ended in yelling and MPs threatening the use of mild stunners to break things up.

  Everyone then stopped what they were doing at once and stared blankly ahead at the podium. The 1MC had just come on their comlinks and they listened to the base commander’s speech. To an onlooker without a comlink, it would seem that thousands of people had suddenly become zombies and were listening to a voice that only they could hear.

  “Congratulations, everyone,” the voice began in their heads, “you have assembled in record time. Very impressive for a group this size. I am now, more than ever, certain that I have collected the finest group of marines ever assembled under one command.

  “I remember when I was a second lieutenant and my CO loved to call the entire base for gear-up drills. I hated that SON OF A BITCH!” his voice boomed at his podium. Luckily, comlinks are equipped with a noise cancellation device that keeps the sounds entering the user’s head from rising above a comfortable level.

  “So I know,” he continued, “that when I tell you this was just a drill, you’ll be swearing my name for days to come. But that’s all right because I now know that I can count on my marines to get the job done and I guarantee you that the next time you’re called to gear up, you won’t be heading back to your quarters anytime soon.”

  Low murmurs and whispers covered the crowd with innuendos and personal translations of what each soldier thought the base commander might be saying. Were they going to war soon? What wasn’t the corps telling them about their current post? Why such a huge drill if nothing was going to happen?

  “Now, everyone return to your previous duties. Fall out”, he concluded.

  As the crowd started to disperse, Daria began to bitch in the direction of Davies when they both went back into a blank stare, listening to the same unseen voice.

  “Attention all hands. Any marine who is receiving this transmission is to report to Building 25, Area 0106 immediately and without discussion to anyone. Move out!”

  Although you couldn’t hear the raised voice of a barked order through the comlink, there was a certain inflection in the tone that you just knew meant someone had yelled it. The two friends looked at each other and started towards the rendezvous point.

  “What the hell is this?” Daria asked as she simultaneously received a warning shock of electricity in her skull. Apparently they had meant it when they said not to talk to anyone because the links were command set to “feedback.” This setting sent a mild shock through the skull when it sensed that the wearer was talking, and in this way the command center on any mission could strictly enforce noise discipline for their troops if they couldn’t do it on their own. No talking to anyone, or the shocks increased in intensity with each time you broke the silence.

  Well, she�
�d just have to wait and see what was going on like everyone else, she thought. As she proceeded, she noticed other marines flinching slightly and touching the spot behind their own ears where the comlink sat. At least she wasn’t the only one, she thought with a smile. The feature was so rarely used that apparently many of the soldiers had forgotten that it existed.

  Unbeknownst to Daria and the rest of her group, every marine who had been assembled was being directed to a different portion of the base. In all, there were a total of three hundred and seventy-eight groups of marines sequestered from one another. The gathering was a ruse planned to make each individual group of marines think that they were the only ones being secretly deployed.

  Daria’s group entered Building 25 en masse and grouped together in Area 0106. As the last marine entered the area, the great doors at the rear of the room sealed. The comlinks were turned off and a colonel began speaking directly to the assorted two hundred marines now gathered before him. Some jaws went slack and some eyes almost jumped out of the heads they sat in while the colonel spoke. Most couldn’t believe what she was saying. A babysitting job! Going beyond the edge of the known galaxy to babysit a bunch of scientists and archeologists on a newly discovered planet!

  An internal unit within the scientific community usually handled these kinds of security jobs. These soldiers weren’t any less dangerous than full-time marines; they just didn’t earn the respect of the REAL marines all that often. The officers were PhDs and professors who felt that their jobs lacked a certain sense of adventure, so they became weekend warriors to battle their boredom. The enlisted ranks were composed of scientists with lesser degrees or students working towards a higher education. Their schooling was paid for by their enlistment and they would eventually become officers in the Scientific Marine Corps.

  Their purpose was sound; the researchers themselves would protect a newly discovered planet that was being studied for colonization or purely scientific research. This way there were no extraneous personnel and every soldier had a dual purpose as a scientist. This cut down costs to the government and basically made the scientists their own colonial militia.

  So why send out two hundred marines in addition to their normal complement? Well, as long as Daria didn’t have to take orders from some lab geek, she decided she would be all right with this cushy assignment.

  Daria and Davies listened with their undivided attention, just like everyone else in the room. Daria wished that Mike had been there; he would’ve enjoyed this sort of thing. “You’ll each be taken to planet 08-2897, where you will receive your specific assignments. Good luck, and may any God that you believe in be with you”, the colonel concluded.

  With that, Daria and Davies were given transport assignments via comlink and breathed a sigh of relief as they found themselves headed for the same ship. They just looked at each other with blank expressions.

  “Is this seat saved?” Davies quipped as he pointed to the seat next to the one Daria had acquired. “Don’t worry,” he added, “the buzzers have been disabled. I guess we’re allowed to talk now.”

  “If you fall asleep and snore, I swear I’ll kick you out into space myself,” Daria said as she scooted over for Davies. Moments later, the transport to the journey ship that would take them to their final destination took off, and so did the rumor mill and gossip between the aisles.

  Daria didn’t bother with joining in any of the many conversations. She didn’t think that it was of any use to speculate about something when you’d get the answer upon arrival at your destination. Or at least, she conceded, the answer the corps wanted you to have.

  The colonel had given them a lot of information but most of it was vague and there was no real substance to even the vague information. So she let herself drift off to sleep and hoped that now she’d have something else to dream about instead of demons and Mike.

  Seth

  Sometimes life was so fantastic that you just had to sit back and look at it to really see how great it was. That’s exactly what Seth was trying to do as he sat there with his friends and more importantly, his girlfriend. Seth wished he could float out of his body and just watch the evening as an outsider, a detached form hovering above and taking it all in.

  For the first time in years, he was truly happy. Six years was a long time to be in college, especially if you were condensing an eight-year program into that time frame. Seth always was an eager person and he wanted to get on with his life and do something more than studying and working on graduate projects that would bring credit to his college first and foremost rather than the students working on them.

  Not only did he want to start his career and feel like a real productive adult, but he hoped that when he was out of school, he would be able to unwrap the last tentacles his parents had on his life. No longer would they be able to say that they were paying for his school so they had a right to be intrusive and overbearing. Sure, they could now say they had paid for his school so they had a right to do whatever obtrusive and overbearing parental thing that they thought that gave them the privilege to do, but at least now he could hang up on them and not wonder whether his tuition would still be paid for or whether he’d still have a place to live come the next day.

  Or at least it was almost “now” that he could do that. So very close to the “now” he was waiting for. That was the other thing Seth could be happy for tonight: he was offered a job today at the company he had been interning with for the last six months. Between the internship, his graduate project, thesis, and girlfriend, Seth thought he was going to slip into a coma any second now just so his mind and body could get some rest.

  The time he spent with his friends was so very important to Seth that he stayed out much later than he knew he should’ve. It was a trade-off: stay out late and decompress mentally at the cost of being a little more tired tomorrow, or go home early and not decompress and still be tired with the added bonus of also being wound up the next day. As the old saying goes, “There will be plenty of time to sleep when you’re dead.“

  So Seth stayed out as long as he could, making deals with himself along the way: If I stay out another thirty minutes, I’ll wake up a little later and just not shower. Another thirty minutes and I’ll just eat on the way to school. Another thirty minutes and I’ll just eat at lunch. And so on until he only got about three hours of sleep before he arrived at his lab the next day.

  Usually Seth had a lot of patience for the undergrads who helped him with his project but today he couldn’t tolerate most of them. It almost seemed as though all of them were purposely trying to destroy their teleportation device. First, some coffee spilled near a very non-liquid-friendly component. Then someone tried to start the machine without first adding coolant to the tank.

  And last, someone allowed a fly to enter the transport chamber before the initiation sequence. Not that the fly would cause a monster to be created, as had happened in the old Earth movie about a similar project, but the fly would be destroyed when the teleporter started and the chamber would have to be completely decontaminated before it could be used again. Decontaminating the chamber took almost a full day of work, something Seth was not in the mood for today.

  Creating a functional energy/matter transporter had been a dream of scientists and engineers since the twentieth century. Early in the twenty-first century, scientists had been able to transport a single photon across large distances but that’s as far as anyone had been able to go with the technology. Seth’s working group was on the verge of changing that.

  Seth always said that all of the technobabble that explained how they were solving the problem didn’t matter. The fact was, they were close to being able to transport as many photons as they wanted, to a relatively distant location of at least a few hundred kilometers.

  Moving biological data any distance was still decades away from happening, if ever. Moving actual life-forms may never be possible based on current theories and information they had gathered during their experiments. But phot
ons and inert matter were going to happen and soon.

  The atmosphere in the lab got so emotional and heated that Seth finally called it a day and sent everyone home. Not long after the lab was empty, he put together a rambling apology to everyone and emailed it before taking a nap at his desk.

  The three-hour nap was exactly what Seth needed. He woke up feeling refreshed and calm. When he reread his apology email, he hoped everyone had been able to decipher what he meant through the jumble of words he had tried to make thoughts out of.

  Seth showered and shaved in preparation for going into the office tonight. His internship would end and his career would begin in just over a week. He really wanted to get the transporter working before he graduated and left the team. Neither his job or future depended on it but it still meant something to him.

  A light bulb went off in his head, illuminating the entire latticework of the project. Seth stood still in the shower, with his fingers frozen in his hair as he had been working in the shampoo. His job and future weren’t dependent on each other, just as the primary focus beam and the reconstituting stream weren’t either.

  But that was the problem: they had been working from the premise that they were in fact dependent on each other and the energy ratios were intertwined. Separate the equations and make the two parts completely independent and they would be able to function as intended.

 

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