Jethro Goes to War (Wandering Engineer Jethro's tale)

by Hechtl, Chris

  He smiled and blinked as the flashbulbs went off rapid fire. “That's right folks, an Earth like planet. We sent a probe last month. It confirmed the presence of air, water, and plants.” He held up a hand, behind him a vid screen came to life showing a scratchy video of another world. “Ladies and gentlemen we present to you the first images from another Earth like world,” he smiled as the murmur grew. “I am looking forward to exploring it personally.”

  “This is an opportunity to explore a new world. It is also a possible gateway to establishing a beachhead for mankind on another world,” he scowled slightly. “Say what you will about exporting our bad habits, but folks, we've got a lot of good ones too. We're going to do our best to make sure this new world is kept as pristine as possible but also allowing us to use it as a branch for mankind's next step,” he smiled as some nodded.

  “We're growing up folks, and leaving the nest. I for one think it's about time, but that's just the space fan in me,” he smiled again, this time invitingly. “I've got to get with the crew but your'e more then welcome to watch.” He waved and walked over to the group getting ready to go.

  “Boss, solar storm is building. Tracking estimates an hour before the flare goes off,” a female tech said coming over to him. She held up a tablet and pointed to the graph. He nodded and turned to the group.

  “All right listen up.” People turned to him. “We've got about an hour and eight minutes until the flare pops and hits us. I want everyone to go through this place and grab anything you want or need that you forgot about. The company will reimburse anyone for materials,” he waved. “Personally, I want more toothpaste and a lot of coffee. A whole lot of coffee. And filters.” Several people chuckled at that. The military contingent looked at each other. “Seriously folks, you've got forty five minutes to go, we'll strap it everywhere so hustle.” He slapped his hands together. People started talking then scrambling.

  “Boss?” the tech asked confused.

  “I want you to poll the staff, get them to make a list of what we take after we're gone and submit it to accounting. I want you to get the staff to toss in anything they can think of that we'd need. Comfort items. Grab every back up generator and fuel bladder and toss them on.” He waved to the trucks. “We'll unload in base camp.”

  Lieutenant colonel Richards came over scowling. The colonel was tall and imposing, sporting a proper military grade haircut. His temples and sides were slightly silver. The man wasn't vain enough to use hair dye apparently. “A moment Ryans.” He gave the tech a look. She made a moue and quietly retreated.

  “Yes Colonel?” Ryans asked, smiling politely.

  “We don't need to disrupt the team at this critical time.”

  Ryans cocked his head. “Actually, I was thinking that getting them to grab what they can while they can would help... “ The Colonel glared. “And it would keep them busy.” The Colonel blinked then slowly nodded. He didn't quite smile, but there was approval in his eyes as he digested that. Maybe the kid wasn't so stupid after all.

  “Good point.”

  Ryans snorted. “I have my moments. I don't think we need them barfing in the trash barrels because they're scared shitless. Once one of them does it will make the others follow.” He shook his head as the Colonel chuckled.

  “Opening night jitters does get to everyone,” he admitted. Some more then others he knew, even if they'd faced the elephant more times than they cared to count. “Very well, carry on.” He walked off, pointing to a tech and engineer strapping equipment to the hood of a LAV.

  “We've got trailers too, and everyones' vehicles are going to be overloaded as it is,” lieutenant Perry said eying the suspension of his hummer. “Are you sure this is necessary?”

  The Colonel snorted. “Ryans is right, keeping everyone busy is a good idea. Besides, if this is a one way trip, I want everything we can get our hands on.”

  The LT nodded. “Good point.. ah with your permission?” he asked looking away.

  “By all means. And grab me more cigars!” the Colonel called as the lieutenant hastily retreated at a jog. He turned and gave a brief salute acknowledging the order.

  “Here, take mine,” the general said, coming up behind him. He handed over a package from his breast pocket, then a lighter and cigar clip. “You deserve it. Where you're going there ain't going to be any more.”

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “So how do you know the, what do you call it Malp worked? If your vehicles and electronics can't be powered, how did you get it to work?” a reporter asked. Ryans turned to see Max nearby.

  The giant machinist was waving his hands as he talked to a tech. “Well Max here...” He pulled a surprised Max over by wrapping an arm around the big man's shoulders. “Max figured it out. I'll let him explain. I've got to take the batteries out of my electronics before we go or they will be fried.” He waved as he retreated.

  “Don't forget the CMOS!” Max called. Ryans waved back. Max nodded. “Okay, um ah... what was the question again?”

  “The Malps. How did you get them to work?” a reporter replied.

  “Oh ah, well, see when they first tried them they were all electric. The first one drove up the ramp, but when it got close to the vortex a fat bolt of lightning came out and fried it like Sunday chicken at granny's.” He licked his lips and grinned. Some of the reporters chuckled at that.

  “You shoulda seen the engineers and scientists, they were dumbstruck, just... Ah.” He dropped his mouth open and bugged his eyes out. Several more of the reporters chuckled at that. “I saw it, I mean who on the floor didn't? Damn expensive, fried the entire robot. Five mil down the toilet.” He shook his head.

  “So what did you do? Or they do?” a woman asked, indicating the control room.

  “Well, actually, that's where I came in. See they got it in their head to try simple things, even tried tossing a camera through. Didn't work. Nothing did. The batteries exploded the moment the lightning hit.” He shook his head. “So I was tinkering around and saw this thing on Discovery channel about that guy Da-Vinci. He created these mechanical things with springs and such. Even made a robot cart with springs and gears.”

  Some of the reporters nodded, catching on. “So I roughed out a concept and put it together in my spare time. The others didn't think it would work. The brass were foaming at the mouth and then he...” He indicated Ryans sitting at a table pulling his laptop apart. “He came by and saw what I was doing. I was almost ready for a test. He took it and ran with it,” he smiled proudly. “Not bad for a GED and trade school guy I think.” He smiled again, hooking his thumbs in his belt proudly.

  “Needless to say it worked. Wind up the spring, toss the thing through the vortex and when the spring wound down it engaged a gear...” He moved his fingers together simulating the contacts. “Which moved the contacts together and the circuits were restored. Voila! All fixed. Sometimes it's the simple fixes that matter, not no multi-million dollar boondoggle with more bells and whistles and places to go wrong...” He threw his hands up. Some of the reporters smiled at that.

  He looked over to a pair of techs nearby waving. He sighed. “I gotta get back to work folks, see ya,” he waved. They shut down and moved off.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “Boss, this is nuts,” the tech said shaking his head.

  “More nuts than going through a wormhole to an unknown world?” Max asked amused.

  “Something like that. I mean, we shouldn't be doing this, we don't even have the catapult!” the tech said, waving to the deck ramp leading up to the vortex.

  “Well, unfortunately, we've got to go with what we've got. According to the egg heads keeping an eye on the sun, this is the last major storm of the cycle that will be big enough. We wont have another one our end for a while. Maybe not for another eleven years. I don't know about you, but I'm too impatient to wait that long.” He grunted as he taped another package to the roof packages.

  “What about on the other end?” Scooter asked, com
ing over to them. “Is it true we wont have any steering or brakes?” he asked looking dubious.

  “No, no power steering, no power for the hydraulic brakes. No engine for that matter.” Max pointed to the truck behind them. “The catapult got held up in port by a storm so we're improvising. That truck is going to shove each vehicle up the ramp and into the vortex. Each vehicle will go in neutral, with it's electrical's isolated.” He looked up to see the other drivers around him.

  “Okay, when you get through the vortex, try to steer the best you can. I know it'll be a bitch without power steering with these beasts. Roll out as far as you can, at least the first couple of vehicles.” He nodded to the drivers in the three lead cars. They were busy taping things all over the lead hummer.

  “Looks like a damn Mexican tour bus,” he sighed seeing a guy taping a coffee grinder to a bumper. “Make sure you leave a spot so the driver can see folks,” he called.

  “Everything electrical or electronic is going to be shielded in bronze Faraday cages and lead. That goes for us too.” He waved to the lead and bronze lined suits hanging nearby. “Visibility is going to be a pain. Watch out for ditches, large rocks, or a sudden drop on the other end. We don't want anyone playing Wile-e-coyote.”

  A couple people snickered at that. “So, keep our hands and feet in the ride till it comes to a complete stop?” Nate quipped, smiling as he taped another biological kit to his truck. He had a first aide kit and fire extinguisher at his feet.

  “Got it in one,” Max said smiling. “Try to steer away from a straight shot from the gate. Left or right, just out of the direct line of fire.”

  “So how do we stop?” Nate asked.

  “Well, if you need to stop quick use the parking brake,” he smiled. “Slalom the steering back and forth to slow if you can. As long as you don't tip the fuck over with the high center of gravity.” He ended that last with a raised voice to a marine trying to load a fridge on top of a cab. The marine turned and flipped him the bird. He snorted. “Or you can go the Flintstones route and stick your feet out.”

  Several people snickered at that. Nate's long British face twisted into a wry grin. “Thanks mate but I'll pass on that. Don't need the tootsies torn up.”

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “Shut it off Scooter,” Perry grunted to Sergeant Scott 'Scooter' Alvarez, their lead driver. The noncom was a short whip thin Hispanic from Texas. He looked up at the order.

  “But..” The noncom complained. Perry gave him his best commanding look.

  “Sorry sir,” the noncom said sheepishly, turning off the iPod.

  “Take the batteries out too,” Perry warned. “Oh, and Scooter?”

  “Yes sir?” The Sergeant said fumbling with the tiny battery pack.

  “I want that song. Upload it to me when you get a chance,” Perry smiled.

  “Blow me away? Sure thing boss. I love it when I'm playing Halo,” Scooter said smiling now.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “How are we set for fuel?” Lewis asked.

  Max looked over to them. “The military vehicles will use diesel, or bio-diesel once we get that up and running.” He waved to the lead truck. “The civilian vehicles use ethylene.”

  “What the hell?” Scooter asked. “Why ever for?”

  “Cause it's smart. That's what it is,” Max said smiling. “The bio-diesel’s a bitch to make. We've got to have lye, methanol, that's wood grain alcohol by the way, and oh gallons of veggie oil.”

  Scooter grimaced at that. “Yeah, I can see that ain't exactly going to be easy to get our hands on.”

  “Yeah. But the RWG thingy, that's different. That takes hydrogen, which we get from running current through water, plus carbon monoxide and dioxide, which we can get from the air and from the tail pipes of your trucks, and we run em through a reverse water gas shift thingy and it makes methane, and then ethylene.”

  “Neat,” Scooter nodded. Ginger rolled her eyes and walked away. “I think we can modify the carburettor to run on ethylene if we can mix it with something.”

  “Probably.”

  “That fuckin' veggie oil is for the birds though. That crap's going to be a bitch to make and use.”

  “Well if it's straight yeah, you gotta preheat it and stuff,” Max shook his head. “Hence the whole bio-diesel thing.” He pointed to a bunch of plastic containers. “That'll make it so we can run it straight from the tank without no prewarmer thing that straight oil needs. It's safer than straight hydrogen, which is our last ditch fall back.”

  “Ah crap, saw that on Mythbusters. Hydrogen is damn scary.”

  “Tell me about it.” Max looked over to lieutenant Perry who was looking impatient. “Looks like you get to go play chauffeur.” He slapped Scooter's shoulder. “Good luck. See you on the other side.”

  “Yeah, lucky me,” Scooter muttered walking off.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Lieutenant Perry gasped as every nerve in his body felt like it was stabbing him. Despite the cage, despite the shielding around the truck and his suit he still got a jolt. Not enough to kill him, but it wasn't pleasant. Not in the slightest. He felt tired now, like he'd run a marathon. Tired and suddenly dry and thirsty. He looked up, gasping as the hummer crunched through the rocks and scrub grass.

  The sky was a deep, deep blue. There were only a few clouds in front of them. He looked back to see the vortex was spinning, bolts of lightning rippled along it's edge, slamming into the ground. Incoming thunderheads were behind it, off in the distance. The clouds looked like they were being sucked in by the vortex.

  The thunder was incredible, almost deafening. The heat... he turned as he pulled off his helmet mask. “What a ride,” he sighed as Scooter groaned, trying to deal with his own pain and dodge Max's Stryker in front of them. Scooter pulled the wheel to the left, grunting under the strain. Perry lent his own hand to the effort, trying to help the wheel turn.

  “Damn bitch wont turn without power steering...” Scooter grunted. He reached down and pulled the parking brake up sharply. The truck skidded as it slowed, pebbles flying on either side before it stopped.

  Perry got out groaning. Feeling stiff all over. He turned to view the vortex trying to shake off the feeling. It was spinning faster now, heat and energy made the air pop and ripple around it. “Damn that's gorgeous,” he sighed. “Definitely not in Kansas anymore.”

  “Yeah well, got under a minute to move this bitch,” Scooter grunted as he tried to climb out. He fell to the ground by the truck, head swimming suddenly as he retched.

  “Crap,” Perry gasped himself. He stumbled then got the the hood. “Damn!” He grunted trying to lift the hood. “Get the LAV's out on point!” he hollered, not looking up from the tape as he tore at it.

  “You heard the man, get the LAV's out. Shiller barf on your own time. Move it!” Water's hoarse bellow echoed from one side.

  “Gotta cut the tape,” Perry grunted fumbling in his pocket for his knife. Max was out of the Stryker, tossing packages off and cutting at the tape. He pulled his belt knife and started cutting along the seam of the hood.

  “Didn't plan on this. What a cluster fuck,” Scooter grunted getting to his feet. He got his own knife out and started cutting at the tape.

  The vortex pulsed, making them both wince and look. “Not much time.” Perry sighed. They tore at the tape, throwing things to one side or another. A Stryker came through the vortex bumping into a ditch then pitching up and to the side. Stuff not adequately secured on it's top bounced off and fell, dripping like rain. Perry looked up as the truck approached, ready to run but the pothole had thrown it off course.

  “Is it just me or did that damn thing move?” Scooter asked. Perry looked at him. Scooter nodded his chin behind them. Perry turned. “The vortex. I could have sworn it was a bit closer.” The vortex was pulsing, lightning rippling out. The grass around it was on fire, oily black smoke was whipped up into the air.

  “I don't know, but I do know if we don't get moving we're goi
ng to have someone up our ass right smart,” Perry grunted lifting the hood. Max had his Stryker online, and it was lumbering off out of danger.

  “Got it,” Scooter said, leaning in and hooking the leads back up. “Got the battery sir?” Perry grunted as he clipped the hot wires.

  “Done and done. Mary the computer?” He called as they slammed the lid closed.

  “Shit, she's out,” Scooter rushed to the cab. Perry opened the passenger door then began tearing at the paneling.

  “Fuck me! Why the hell did they pack the damn thing!” Scooter snarled.

  “Beats me,” Perry grunted pulling the computer out then hooking leads up.

  “Got it,” Scooter grunted hitting the ignition button. “Let's rock and roll!” He slammed the parking brake down and then turned the wheel and hit the gas. Perry backed away as the Hummer moved out. He turned to the perimeter, doing a quick professional scan, pointing to PFC Edsfield to get with the program.

  “Incoming!” Edsfield called, moving to one side as the vortex pulsed and thundered. Perry turned and then dived to the side rolling as a supply truck came through and rumbled past.

  “Damn that thing was hauling,” he said rolling to his feet. He checked the truck, noting it was rolling far enough to be out of the way and then turning back to the vortex, watching it warily.

  “This could be a problem. It has moved,” he said, looking at it. The vortex had moved closer to the cliff edge. It was smaller and was changing shape. It seemed to ripple, energy tearing at the ground. He looked at the smoldering ground around it, then back. Each transit had knocked the vortex back and deformed it for a brief time. It was within a hundred yards of the edge of.. something. He pulled off his suit and tossed it to the ground as he walked off to one side, then up towards the side of the vortex.

  “Please don't be... please don't be... Ah hell,” he whispered, seeing the edge. “Cliff!” He turned looking at the others then pulling out his radio. He swore softly as he put the radio batteries in, then clicked it.