Transport 3_The Zone

by Phillip P. Peterson

  “First we have to ensure that it remains our planet,” Richards said darkly.

  “We’ll make sure of that,” Manuel said, punching the backpack beside him.

  “Cool it,” Ernie said. “I’m starting to understand why Marlene is holding back. There are just too many soldiers. We’ll suffer heavy losses if we fight them.”

  “Not if we use surprise tactics,” Richards said firmly. “They don’t think we have any weapons.”

  “We got our hands on a dozen automatic rifles and about as many handguns. That’s not enough.”

  “Then we’ll go back to the depot to get the rest. Then we take ’em by surprise and get our planet back.”

  “I don’t think it’ll be that easy.”

  “Nobody said it would be easy. But I don’t want to spend the rest of my life being bullied around like a slave. We’ll take them unawares and force them back to Venus through the transporter.”

  “And how do we prevent them from coming back——with even more men and more weapons? We would live in permanent fear. And we can’t even destroy the transporter, if I understood Dressel correctly. That would only be possible with an atomic bomb, and we don’t have any left.”

  Ernie slowly got to his feet and bent over to pick up his backpack. “No, the weapons are just for an emergency. Nothing more. We need to try to negotiate our way out of this first. I don’t want to fight anymore. I’ve already lost Andrea. I don’t want to lose Carrie as well.”

  Richards shrugged and stood up. Together with Manuel they started to head back down.

  The sun had almost set by the time they reached the canyon floor, but they didn’t have far to go now, and a short while later they reached the pass into the highlands. They turned left and walked along the foot of the cliff, until they reached the entrance to the cave a few hundred feet further on. Three weeks ago they had tried to detonate the bomb from here, but it hadn’t worked due to a defective relay. There were still some cables leading out of the cave, but they were capped right next to the entrance.

  Ernie went inside, ducking down to fit through the entrance. The dim light from outside was just enough to illuminate the little cave. “We’ll hide the weapons behind those stones and cover them with rubble.”

  He was glad to be able to finally put down his heavy backpack. A few minutes later their work was done.

  “Finally!” Richards said. “I couldn’t have dragged that stuff another inch. Next time someone else can go.”

  “Yeah,” Ernie agreed. “I’m looking forward to a proper meal and a soft bed.” He checked the spot where they had hidden the weapons. Nobody would notice them there, even if they were looking. He nodded in satisfaction. “We’ll be home in an hour. Let’s go.” He began moving back toward the entrance of the cave. Manuel and Richards followed him. “Maybe it would be better if we took a slight detour via——”

  Oh shit!

  Ernie was staring into the muzzles of three automatic rifles.

  “Stop! Don’t move!” one of the soldiers shouted. At the same moment, a jeep with more soldiers came thundering over the nearby hill and skidded to a halt. Calmly, Major Palmer stepped out and stood next to his men.

  “Gentlemen, you are under arrest.” He turned to the soldier next to him. “Corporal Decker, handcuff them. And then get the weapons from the cave.”

  Chapter 8

  “Major Palmer! For God’s sake, talk to me finally!?” Marlene stood a few feet away from the entrance to Palmer’s hut. The mercenaries wouldn’t let her get any closer. Some of the colonists had also gathered in the square, but they stayed in the background.

  It was early in the morning, the first rays of sun lit up the horizon. It was going to be another cloudless day, but Marlene knew that she was not going to enjoy it. When the troop hadn’t returned from the depot as agreed, she could guess what Palmer had been doing the night before. He must have found the men and arrested them. The Major’s fleet of vehicles had only returned to Eridu in the middle of the night. But the mercenaries didn’t have any prisoners with them. Marlene assumed that Palmer had either brought them to the base next to the transporter or straight to Venus.

  “Stop it, Ms. Wolfe,” the guard in front of her said, a burly man around the age of forty with a bald, square-shaped head. “I’m getting a headache from all your screaming.”

  “I want to talk to Major Palmer.”

  “He’ll see you in his own time.”

  “That’s not good enough, I want——”

  “It’s OK, Ron.” They could hear the major’s voice. Marlene looked over the guard’s shoulder and saw Palmer standing in the doorway. “Let Ms. Wolfe pass.”

  Marlene shoved the mercenary aside and strode up to Palmer. She had to stop herself from shouting at him. “What have you done with my men?”

  A hint of a smile flew over Palmer’s face. He seemed very pleased with himself. “Why don’t you come inside first. Coffee?”

  Marlene did not react to the false friendliness. She knew he had absolutely no intention of meeting her even half way. She took a seat in front of the desk. Palmer strode round the desk and lowered himself into his chair. Even on her last visit, it hadn’t escaped Marlene’s notice that he had taken the chair from Eridu’s mess hall. She knew it well. Albert had made it many years ago with his own hands, covered it in leather from a wotan he had shot himself and finally given it to the community. Now Palmer was sliding back and forth on it with his big ass.

  “So, Ms. Wolfe. You have put me in an awkward position.”

  Marlene could hardly believe her ears. She had put him in an awkward position? She didn’t respond.

  “To answer the question that I’m sure you wish to ask me: we saw through your devious plan of smuggling weapons into the colony, and arrested the conspirators.”

  “Where are they now?” Marlene asked.

  “At our base at the transporter.”

  “I demand——”

  Palmer laughed. “You can demand nothing. You can be glad I don’t arrest you, too, for planning this uprising.”

  “What are you going to do with my men? And what will happen to young Shanker?”

  The horrible, fake smile flickered across his face again.

  “What do you think? New California is under martial law——you know that. I have already spoken with General Morrow, and there is only one possible punishment.”

  Marlene shook her head. My God, they want to execute them! “You can’t be serious!”

  “You have given us no other choice, Ms. Wolfe,” Palmer said smugly.

  He’s even enjoying this!

  “You would turn the whole colony against you, Major!”

  “That’s your problem. After the prisoners have been publicly executed by a firing squad, it will hopefully become clear to the rest of your community how pointless any attempt at resistance is.”

  Marlene stared at the major, unable to speak. She had no doubts that Palmer would keep his word. He didn’t care one jot about the people of New California. But she hadn’t expected this from Morrow. On the other hand, Marlene was surprised the major had even deigned to speak to her. What was stopping him from simply dragging the prisoners to Eridu and shooting them in front of the eyes of the colonists? Why this discussion? Was it possible there was something he wasn’t telling her? She felt a glimmer of hope rise up.

  She leaned forward. “What do you want, Major?”

  “Please understand, we don’t want any unnecessary bloodshed. And what’s more, General Morrow is more generous than I am. That is why we are offering to free the prisoners, if you declare yourself willing to do something for us in return.”

  Marlene was suspicious. “What?”

  “General Morrow will tell you in person.”

  “When?”

  “The general will be here shortly.” The major leaned back in Albert’s chair and grinned spitefully. Finally he stood up and escorted Marlene to the door without another word.

  Chapter 9 />
  The cell door flew open. “Harris, follow me!” According to the badge on his chest, the beefy corporal who had come to get him was called Dutting.

  Russell needed a moment to collect himself. He didn’t know how long he had been sitting alone in the cell without seeing another soul. The last person he had spoken to was Dr. Payne——and that must have been one or two weeks ago. The days had descended into a less and less distinguishable rhythm of waking and sleeping. Russell was in a complete daze, and he had difficulty concentrating on anything. There was nothing he could focus his mind on, and he feared he would slowly go mad if he spent any longer stewing in his cell. Even the meager meals, which were shoved through a hatch, didn’t add much structure to the day.

  “Come on, get a move on!”

  Slowly, Russell got up and followed the mercenary into the corridor. Another soldier Russell hadn’t seen before followed him, his weapon slung over his shoulder.

  Russell’s heart was beating fast. Is this it? Has the trial taken place? Are they taking me to be executed?

  But if that were the case, there would have been more armed soldiers in the corridor. And the soldiers hadn’t put him in handcuffs. Maybe he was being taken for another medical check-up? But they walked straight past the infirmary.

  Russell followed Dutting to General Morrow’s office. The commander looked pale and had dark rings under his blood-shot eyes. He waved Russell inside and sent the soldiers out. The door slammed shut behind them.

  “Sit down, Harris!”

  Russell lowered himself into the uncomfortable chair. His gaze fell on a framed photo of a woman on the shelf behind Morrow’s desk. The red of the frame jarred with the room’s otherwise entirely bland décor. The woman was probably around sixty. A younger Morrow in full regalia stood behind her, smiling, a hand on her shoulder. Russell tried to remember if the photo had been there the last time he had been in this office.

  “My sister,” the general explained, with a sadness in his voice that was new to Russell. “She died a few days ago. She was my last living relative. When I kick the bucket in a few years, my family name will die with me.”

  Morrow leaned back in his chair, and quickly gathered himself. His eyes immediately returned to being cold and emotionless. “There have been a few developments that change our situation. We don’t know exactly what to make of the events, but we think we are dealing with a threat.”

  Russell didn’t understand. What did this have to do with him? He was a prisoner waiting for his execution, why was the general telling him about developments on the Venus base? “Can you be a little more specific?”

  “You will find out the details soon. But first I want to make you an offer which comes directly from my superiors in Washington.”

  Russell shook his head in irritation. “What kind of offer are you talking about, General?” He had to stop himself from addressing Morrow as “Sir,” as he had many years earlier.

  “We have a serious problem with the transporter. We have failed to figure out how the thing works. We have lost some of our special forces, and Blackbridge is refusing to send out more soldiers on such a dangerous mission.”

  Russell suddenly understood where this was leading. He had heard something similar before. But that had been twenty years ago.

  “You want to use me as a guinea pig,” he said. “Like back in Nevada.”

  Morrow shook his head. “No, not like then. Thanks to our communication with the transporter, we can set the destinations we want. These would be reconnaissance missions ... of another kind, for which I need volunteers.”

  “So you need more than one person. Who else do you have?”

  “We will recruit volunteers from New California.”

  “What makes you think anybody there would volunteer for a suicide mission?”

  The general laughed weakly. “Leave that to me. Your people gave us a nice bargaining tool yesterday.”

  Russell hardly dared to ask. “And what are you offering me in return?”

  “If you help us, you can go back to your family.”

  To my family ... It sounded so tempting. Which was what Morrow was counting on. But what price would Russell have to pay? “I need more details!”

  Morrow got up from his chair. “Of course. Come with me.”

  Russell followed Morrow into the corridor, with the guards a few feet behind them. At the next turning, Morrow veered to the right, to a part of the base Russell hadn’t seen before. They reached a metal security door, which Morrow opened with a magnetic card.

  “This is the laboratory wing,” the general explained. “There are twenty scientists and engineers working here, trying to extract the secrets of the transporter.” Some steps led down to the floor below.

  Russell wiped the sweat from his brow. It must have been at least eighty-six degrees. “Does it have to be this hot?”

  “The outside temperature is almost five-hundred degrees. Compared with those conditions, it is like a freezer in here. You have no idea how difficult it is to regulate the temperature.” He turned round to look Russell in the eye. “And if you hadn’t blown up the transporter on Earth, we wouldn’t have to go through this torture, Harris. So quit whining!”

  “OK, I get it.”

  “Just so there is no misunderstanding: you will not be given the kind of freedom you had in the past. I don’t trust you. I would never do that again. You will be under guard at all times, and if I have even the slightest suspicion that you are not completely on board, I will throw you back in your cell and leave you there to rot! I am only giving you this chance because my superiors think it is a good idea.”

  “But you still haven’t told me what it’s about.”

  Morrow looked at Russell broodingly and walked toward another door on the right. With a practiced movement, he held the magnetic card over the reader. The door swung aside with a hissing noise.

  Russell followed Morrow into what looked like a control room. He was reminded of a visit to the NASA center half a lifetime ago. The room was filled with countless consoles. Men and women in white lab coats were hurrying about or sitting in front of screens. A young woman with thick glasses looked up briefly. All of the workspaces were facing a large screen on the front wall, on which several columns were filled with figures. Beneath the screen were a few small windows, through which you could see another room on the other side.

  “We control the transporter from here, and our missions from the other side. We’ll return in a moment.” Morrow crossed the room quickly and opened another heavy security door next to the giant screen.

  Together they stepped into cave-like room with walls of bare rock. The floor covering was reminiscent of glass and looked as slippery as ice, but Russell’s feet found a firm grip. The cave was so big that a soccer pitch could have fit inside. In the middle was a black sphere, as tall as a house and almost touching the top of the cave. The sphere’s material reflected so little of the artificial light, Russell thought he had a black spot swimming in his eye. So this was the transporter they had found on Venus. In fact, Russell must have arrived on Venus through this very transporter from New California. He got goose bumps when he thought about the millions of planets this alien object could take them to.

  The transporter was surrounded by a scaffold, similar to the one they’d used all those years ago in Nevada.

  Right next to the sphere, Russell saw a circle on the ground divided into yellow and black sections. He knew the warning symbol only too well. “Have you put an atomic bomb under the transporter again?”

  “Indeed. The supreme command insisted on it——a safety precaution.”

  “I presume you have overhauled the detonating device?”

  “Yes, Mr. Harris. This atomic bomb cannot be detonated by an unauthorized person.” Morrow paused. “And I fear that if we don’t find a solution to our problem, I will be giving the demolition command myself.”

  Russell thought this wouldn’t be a bad solution. He still thought th
at humans shouldn’t be playing around with such dangerous technology. It had even ended up destroying its own creators. That had come to light all those years ago, when they’d found a data carrier on an abandoned alien base. If Morrow really did destroy the transporter, Russell would have to find a way of getting back to New California first. But what danger could be big enough for the general to resort to such a desperate measure?

  “I’m still waiting to hear what this is all about! Can you tell me now?”

  “I’ll leave that to our chief physicist. He ought to be here already. I detest lateness.” The general scanned the huge cave impatiently.

  Russell felt uneasy. “Who is it? Dr. Gilbert?” He remembered the chief scientist from the original transporter mission only too well. Intelligent, sharp-witted, but also unscrupulous and over-ambitious, Gilbert had been willing to go to any lengths to unlock the secrets of the alien transporter. If he was in charge again here, Russell could prepare for the worst.

  “No. Dr. Gilbert passed away. He died in the great San Francisco quake. Back in 2026.”

  Once again, Russell realized he knew hardly anything about what had happened on Earth in the past twenty years. “The great quake?”

  “Nine on the Richter scale and close to the Earth’s surface. Not a stone was left standing. Over a million dead from San Francisco to San Jose. It was the death of Silicon Valley——we also lost our supremacy in the field of microtechnology. It was dreadful.” Morrow’s eyes wandered to a point behind Russell’s shoulder. “Finally! Dr. Brian Hope.”

  Russell turned around. A small, wiry man walked down the steps from the control room and sauntered over to them. He was wearing a white lab coat, which looked like it had been washed too many times. His shaggy gray hair tumbled to his shoulders.

  “Excuse me, General. We had a problem with the transformers in the reactor station. We need new superconductor coils from Earth.”

  “Send me a request form, and I’ll forward it.”