Freedom's Last Gasp

by M. A. Rothman

  The animal had just begun to leap when the bullet slammed into its shoulder. It fell to the ground with a whimper.

  At almost the same moment, Jon felt over one hundred pounds of canine smash against his back. The second dog knocked him off his feet and clamped its vise-like jaws on the wrist of his shooting hand.

  Jon struggled with the growling animal. He started to yell when his voice was suddenly trapped in his throat. The dog he’d shot had clamped down tightly on his throat.

  He fell back onto the dirt, his windpipe closing under the crushing force of the animal’s impossibly strong jaws. His vision wavered as he strained for breath.

  His heart pounding with terror, he prayed. My God, there’s so much I could have…

  The world faded to black.

  Hans Reinhardt stood at the top of the rocky slope and breathed in the acrid smoke of burning sagebrush. A half dozen men in fatigues spewed hellfire from their flamethrowers, and all across the burning landscape, stones cracked in the fierce heat.

  The operation had been going well—until now. Now everything had turned to shit. A complete disaster. Despite the assurances from his bosses in the German Federal Intelligence Service, not to mention the US handlers in Langley, Hans knew it was time to reset. He needed to move the operation to a more remote location. One with less chance of… “incidents.”

  The base commander, an Air Force colonel, walked up and stood beside him. “His name was Jonathan LaForce, Marine artilleryman, ten years out of Afghanistan with an honorable discharge.”

  “What the hell was he doing here? I thought this base was secure.”

  The base commander shifted his weight nervously. “The base is secure. However, we’d underestimated the containment measures needed in the kennel. I reviewed the security tape myself, it seems one of the experiments figured out how to open the latch to its stall. Once it escaped, the others managed to copy its actions. And before anyone could stop them, the animals had dug a hole under the perimeter fence.”

  Hans kicked a stone off the rocky escarpment and ground his teeth with frustration. “A dead Marine is the last thing we need. How big of a problem is this going to be?”

  The colonel’s discomfort increased. “The good news is, he was one of those disaffected types. No family, and it looks like he was out of a job. A wanderer who probably won’t have anyone searching for him, at least not for a while. We’ll deal with his remains.”

  “And the experiments? Have they all been tracked down and decommissioned?”

  “We tracked five of the animals through the signal coming off their PIT tags. We captured and disposed of them.” The colonel blew out a deep breath. “Unfortunately, we have not yet been able to locate the sixth. I’ve sent out the drones. They’re programmed to run grids across the terrain, looking for the animal’s signal. We’ll find it.”

  Hans silently wondered how such an incompetent ass had come to be the base commander at a supposedly high-security location. “We don’t have time for a lengthy search, Colonel. We cannot have one of our experiments encountering civilians.”

  “We’ll track the dog down—”

  “That’s not a fucking dog, you moron!” Hans snapped. “It’s a specially bred nightmare with enough strength and intelligence to escape your so-called ‘secure’ kennel and take out an armed ex-Marine who got in its way.”

  The colonel’s eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened.

  “Listen to me,” Hans continued. “Both my neck and yours are on the line if any of this gets out. We can’t risk our arrangement being exposed. And let’s face it, your government has already proven itself incapable of keeping things out of Wikileaks.”

  “Mr. Reinhardt,” said the colonel, “believe me, I know exactly what’s at stake. You do not need to remind me. This is a black operation, and it’s staying that way. I’m overseeing the cleanup personally.” The colonel pointed toward the nearby slope. “We found some blood that we believe is from the missing animal. It’s wounded, which will limit its ability to elude us. Between the contractors on foot and the drones in the air, we’ll find it.”

  Hans glared. “You damn well better.”

  Frank O’Reilly poured a few inches of pea gravel into the fence-post hole he’d just dug. He glanced over his shoulder at Johnny, one of the ranch hands he’d recently hired.

  “Make sure you get at least three inches of these rocks into the hole and tamp it down good, like this.” he said, tamping the rocks down with a large wooden pole. “We need a solid footing for the fence posts. Them cattle will rub up against just about anything, so these here posts need to be sturdy, you understand?”

  “Yessir, Mr. O’Reilly. And you need them posts eight feet apart so them sixteen-foot planks can span two openings, right?”

  “That’s right. Make sure them posts are square with the ground and space them evenly.”

  Frank handed Johnny the post-hole digger and smiled. The ranch hand had just turned eighteen, and Frank couldn’t help but remember when his Kathy was that age. Johnny had that same lively spirit and energy that reminded him of Frank’s baby girl when she graduated high school and took off for the world.

  He patted Johnny on the shoulder. “You got this?”

  “Yessir, but if’n you don’t mind my asking, why all of a sudden you taking on help? You fixing to retire?”

  Frank laughed and shook his head. “Johnny, I might be fifty-three, but I’ve still got quite a bit of life left in me. Just get the job done, and you best be minding what I said about doing a quality job. I’m going to check all your work, so don’t take no shortcuts, you hear?”

  “Yessir. Don’t have to worry about that.” Johnny hefted the post-hole digger and walked to the next flagged spot.

  As Frank turned away, he nearly tripped on a dog that was sitting on its haunches right behind him.

  “Damn it, where the heck did you come from?”

  The chocolate lab just sat there with its tongue lolling. A beautiful animal. Shiny coat, heavily muscled body, and obviously well-fed. Not a stray.

  Frank held out his hand. “Are you friendly?”

  The dog stood, and its tail became a blur. It sniffed at Frank’s hand, then lowered its nose and sniffed at his boot and up along his jeans. Finally, it sat back on his haunches, licked its lips, and whined. Its bright brown eyes stared up at him, glanced at his trousers, and then back up at his face. It whined again.

  Frank tilted his head, unsure what the dog was trying to say. Then it hit him, and he laughed. “Ah! I know why you’re so interested in me.” He pulled a folded-up piece of homemade beef jerky from his pocket and tossed it gently to the dog.

  The animal snatched it in midair and chewed contentedly.

  “Well, I best be off, pup. I’ll get a tongue-lashing if I’m not home in time for supper.”

  Frank walked the roughly half a mile to the modest white ranch-style home he’d built almost thirty years ago. As he drew near, he heard paws padding along behind him. Figures. I know better than to feed a strange dog. He purposefully ignored the animal and started up the steps to the front porch.

  The aroma of roasting beef was in the air.

  Megan stepped out onto the porch. “Oh good, you’re back. Dinner is almost ready. Go get washed up.”

  He gave her a peck on the lips. “Smells good.”

  She looked past him with a puzzled expression. “You made a friend?”

  The lab now sat at the bottom of the porch steps, looking hopeful.

  Frank shook his head. “I made the mistake of giving him some of the beef jerky.”

  Megan pushed her shoulder-length auburn hair behind her ears, knelt, and patted the wooden deck of the porch. “Here, boy, did you like the jerky?”

  The dog bounded up the stairs and lay down in front of her, its belly up and its long tail sweeping back and forth over the wooden planks.

  Megan giggled as she rubbed the dog’s belly. “You’re such a good boy.” She looked up at Frank with th
at sheepish smile he knew so well. “Do you think anyone owns him?”

  “No idea. He just wandered up. He’s obviously been cared for, but he’s not wearing a collar or anything.” He hesitated. “I thought after Daisy died, you swore—”

  “Oh, you poor thing!” Megan exclaimed. She was examining the dog’s front right leg. “It looks like he got into a fight or something.”

  The dog whimpered as she fussed over his injury.

  “I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Frank said.

  “No.” Megan stood and wiped her hands on her apron. “We’re going to take him to the vet and get him looked at.”

  Frank wondered how much the vet would try to gouge him for. “He’s not even our dog.”

  Megan turned and gave him that look that said her mind was set. “Then we can have the vet check him for one of them chips they put in dogs nowadays.”

  Megan was five feet tall and built like a pixie, but once she set her mind to something, she was immovable. If thirty years of marriage had taught Frank anything, it was that.

  He raised his hands in defeat. “What about dinner?”

  “Dinner will keep.” Megan walked into the house and motioned for the dog to follow, which it did. “I think we still have Daisy’s old bowls. I’ll see if this boy is thirsty while you go call the vet and tell him we’re on our way.”

  The examination room doors opened and a blue-smocked veterinary assistant with a long black ponytail stepped out. “O’Reilly?” she called.

  Frank waved. “Right here.”

  Her gaze shifted to the chocolate lab lying between Frank’s and Megan’s feet. “And what’s your name, gorgeous?”

  “He doesn’t—”

  “Jasper,” Megan announced, as if that had always been his name.

  Frank groaned inwardly. He hoped she wasn’t getting attached. This animal belonged to someone. No way would a stray look as healthy as he did.

  “Well, let’s get Jasper weighed and see how he’s doing.”

  “Jasper” stood the moment Megan did, and he obediently trotted after her into the examination room. Frank, shaking his head, followed.

  The veterinary assistant—the name “Sherri” was stenciled on her scrubs—stopped beside a large metal scale. “Let’s see if we can coax Jasper on here.”

  Before Megan could even nudge the dog in the right direction, Jasper walked over and stepped on the scale.

  “Hah, what a good boy,” Sherri said. “Wow, 125.8 pounds. I’d never have guessed it.” She scribbled the weight on a sheet of paper and slid it into Jasper’s chart.

  “Do you have one of those chip scanners?” Frank asked. He ignored Megan’s severe look. “Jasper just wandered onto our property today, and he has no collar or tags. We don’t know anyone who’s missing a lab in our area. But we wanted to do the right thing and see if he’d been chipped or not.”

  “Oh, of course. Be right back.” Sherri disappeared through another door while Megan began fervently petting the top of Jasper’s head. Moments later, Sherri returned with what looked like a thick stick with a small loop on its end.

  Megan grabbed Frank’s hand as the veterinary assistant approached Jasper.

  Sherri passed the wand back and forth over Jasper’s back. “Hmm. Most vets inject the chip between the animal’s shoulders, and I’m not seeing anything there.”

  Megan squeezed Frank’s hand tighter.

  “Let’s just make sure there isn’t one anywhere else.” Sherri slowly moved the wand over Jasper’s hindquarters and then back toward the front again. As she neared the right front leg, the dog whined.

  “It’s okay, Jasper,” Megan said soothingly. “She’s not going to hurt you.”

  The veterinary assistant paused over the dirt-encrusted wound. “Poor baby, you’ve got an ouchie. Dr. Dew will make it all better.” She finished dragging the wand over Jasper and shook her head. “No chips that I can find.”

  Frank sensed Megan’s smile without even having to look. He sighed wistfully with the realization they had just adopted a dog. “Okay,” he said. “In that case, in addition to tending to that wound, let’s get Jasper a full workup.”

  “Okay. Dr. Dew will be in to look at Jasper in a bit. And since it looks like Jasper is favoring his right front leg, we may need to take x-rays and sedate him to treat the wound. It’ll be at least four hundred dollars.” She raised a questioning eyebrow.

  “Just fix him up,” Megan said quickly. “We’ll pay whatever is necessary.”

  Frank kissed the top of Megan’s head. There was no arguing with Mrs. O’Reilly over such things.

  Frank spent nearly an hour in the waiting room, with Megan fidgeting the whole time. And when at last the vet appeared—without Jasper—Megan grabbed Frank’s arm and held it tightly.

  The vet was a huge man with a bodybuilder’s physique, yet his voice was soft, almost effeminate. He gave Frank and Megan a wide smile. “Jasper will be coming out of sedation in about twenty minutes, but he’ll be fine. It looks like he must have gotten into a fight, and the wound got infected. Luckily, the x-rays showed no breaks. However, it’s fortunate that we did that x-ray, because I probably wouldn’t have seen this otherwise.”

  He pulled a clear plastic baggie from his lab coat and handed it to Frank. It contained a four-inch-long metal wire.

  Dr. Dew showed his arm and pointed at a four-inch length above his wrist. “That wire managed to lodge itself between the skin and muscle just above the wound. I have no idea how it could have gotten in there, but it came out without any problems.”

  “So… he’s okay?” Megan asked.

  Another broad smile. “Jasper’s still a little loopy at the moment, but he’s just fine. All stitched up. He’s on antibiotics, which he’ll need to take twice a day, and I’m also going to give you guys some ointment that needs to go on the wound on a daily basis.”

  Barking sounded from the back, and the exam room doors burst open. Jasper came bounding into the waiting room, his gait a bit awkward, one foot wrapped up like a mummy. He raced straight to Megan and spun rapidly with excitement as if he’d expected to never see her again.

  Sherri came in right behind him. “I’m sorry Dr. Dew, but Jasper woke up way early and began frantically pawing at the door. I didn’t want him to pull any of his stitches. It looks like he really wanted to see his mommy.”

  Megan scratched Jasper’s head. Clearly the two had already formed a bond.

  “Well, we can’t have this big guy breaking down any doors,” said Dr. Dew, laughing. “I’m quite sure he’s the heaviest healthy lab I’ve ever encountered, and it’s not even close. It’s odd, because he doesn’t look like he’d be any heavier than seventy-five pounds or so, which is still heavy for a lab, but this boy has got some incredibly dense musculature. And judging by his teeth, he's still young. He might grow a bit more yet.”

  Frank groaned. “I’m already tired just thinking about how much work it’ll be just keeping him fed.”

  Jasper walked away from them, grabbed a doggie blanket that was tucked under one of the waiting room chairs, brought it back, and laid it on Frank’s lap.

  Megan smiled. “Aww, he heard you’re tired and he brought you a blanket.”

  Dr. Dew patted Jasper on his head. “You’re one smart dog.”

  Jasper sat up a bit straighter and woofed in agreement.

  Frank couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right about this animal. But as he watched Megan fawning over Jasper, he knew that what he thought no longer mattered.

  Addendum

  My formal background has kept me fully immersed in the world of science for decades. Given my science background and my access to some folks in academic research, it shouldn’t be a surprise that I’ve found ways to draw from both my background and theirs to produce stories that involve technology in some way or another.

  Many might label this novel as a hard science fiction tale, and I suppose they’d be correct. The funny thing is, Larry Niven, one
of the grandmasters of the genre, he read Primordial Threat and labeled it science and adventure fiction, mostly because it carries many elements of an action thriller, and that could just as easily apply to Freedom’s Last Gasp.

  One might ask, “What is hard science fiction, and is it something that I can read?”

  To me, the key thing that differentiates hard science fiction from “soft” is that in the former, science is not just an ingredient of the story, but a key part of it.

  However, in my honest opinion, that shouldn’t mean you need advanced degrees to understand what is happening. All you should need is a love of good stories that contain science and technology. It is up to the author to make the science portion accessible to all that would read it.

  Like all my stories, I strive to maintain some level of scientific accuracy with the things that a reader is exposed to. Certainly, there will be elements in any tale of fiction that are impossibilities today. However, built upon a solid foundation of science, I attempt to venture forward with some predictions of what could be, and from that, construct a tale that should hopefully be entertaining and maybe somewhat enlightening.

  Since many of the concepts I use in this novel stem from scientific elements I introduced in Primordial Threat, I’ll review some of that referenced science at the end of this addendum so that people can also get up to speed on some terms that maybe aren’t as extensively described in this novel.

  I should note that the purpose of this addendum is to talk about technical elements that I’ve used in this story, and give you, the reader, an insight into how some elements of hard science might relate to them or serve as inspiration. For example, I talked about a “priority communicator” that allows real-time communication across great distances, seemingly violating some of the laws of science what we know today. I’ll admit that the concept itself is not new to science fiction, but in this addendum, I’ll separate for you the real vs not real and actually talk about how elements of known science could achieve some rather remarkable things, while employing minimum handwavium (nonsense). In this addendum I also talk about something called the Kinetic Bombardment Project (KBP) and in the end of the story, it comes into play as a means of asserting some bits of justice. This is a totally real thing conceived in the 1950’s and I’ll talk about what was known as Project Thor. Much like when I used it in Primordial Threat, I’ll cover again the concept of a Warp Ring, and even though there are absolutely no such things in today’s science that exhibit such properties, such a thing isn’t in the realm of complete and utter fantasy; there’s actually reasonable physics behind it!