Overture

by Mark Wandrey

  On the fourth morning, he displayed the first animal life, a reptile, about a foot long, which bore a distinct resemblance to a terrestrial Tokay gecko. He’d caught it eating the remains of his dinner and dispatched it with a rock. Scott took many pictures and dissected the animal (with the ever-handy Swiss Army knife), and the scientists took many more pictures from Earth’s side. Afterward, he roasted it with more tubers and pronounced it edible. “Taste’s a little like chicken,” he’d written afterward.

  Despite the situation and his lack of credentials, Ben Scott had become the first intergalactic explorer. The scientists created time schedules and lists of experiments for him. Every morning at sunrise on the alien world (the day was almost exactly 23 hours long), they would activate the portal from the Earth side, make contact and discuss plans. But after the fourth morning he began repeatedly asking the same question. When was someone else coming over?

  “That’s a good question,” Dr. Osgood thought.

  “Maybe never,” Volant told him. “Washington isn’t sure how to proceed. They’re still concerned this is some sort of invasion, or something.”

  “Then it’s a pretty piss poor way to run an invasion,” Osgood noted. But besides the risks, real or imaginary, there was the light.

  When the portal was active, it had a ring of glowing white lights around its outside edge. Unlike the symbols, the lights didn’t move or change, and touching them had no effect. They’d been discounted after a time, at least until Ben Scott went through. The next time someone stepped on the dais and the portal activated, one of the lights turned blue leaving the other 143 white. While not explicit, the implied meaning was obvious.

  So, they’d stalled Scott with excuses that they needed to get authorization, but not to worry. He was doing well, and the world showed no hostile conditions beyond chilly nights. He’d found another, smaller lizard that barked a call to others at night if disturbed. Howlers, he called them. There were a few types of insects as well, but none appeared parasitic. They showed interest in the food he prepared, but no interest in eating him.

  He’d created a simple camp within view of the portal, a lean-to shelter with a raised pallet covered in fern fronds that he changed every night. There didn’t appear to be any plant life more advanced than ferns or simple evergreens. He dried some lizard meat for safety’s sake, and even used skins to create water storage. As the seventh day dawned, he began to venture further away from his camp. On the morning of the ninth day, he was gone from his camp, and they could find no sign of him.

  They initiated an around-the-clock watch. They used telephoto lenses to examine his camp and everything else in sight. Still, there was no visible sign of him. After two days, they reduced observations to every four hours.

  “We want to send someone else through.” Dr. Osgood renewed the request. “Not only might Mr. Scott be in dire straits, but the most recent news suggests sending someone else may be more important than ever.”

  Volant grunted. He’d read the same top-secret flash as the scientist. The news, when coupled with the ten or so portals now positively identified around the world was, at the very least, ominous. “I’ll pass the word on up the chain of command,” Volant said and turned to leave. Dr. Osgood watched him go.

  A little later, Dr. Osgood heard helicopters arriving and ran out in time to see a combat team jumping down from a couple of Blackhawks, carrying huge packs and additional gear. Mark Volant was greeting them and shaking their leader’s hand, so he walked toward them. The agent spotted him and waved him over.

  “Dr. George Osgood, this is Lieutenant Colonel Wilson. His team will be your explorers.”

  “I thought you were just going to ask,” Osgood said as he examined the men and women with their camouflage and big rifles.

  “I did,” Volant assured him, “and it turns out the decision had already been made. The colonel left Ft. Bragg yesterday with his team to prepare.”

  “Doctor,” the colonel said and held out a hand. Osgood took it somewhat reluctantly. He was sure the soldier could have crushed his hand with ease, if he’d chosen to. “We’ll see if we can find your lost man.”

  “Agent Volant,” Osgood said, “I think it should be a scientist who goes through. Sending soldiers seems contraindicated.” The colonel gave Volant a curious look, at which the agent shrugged.

  “The eggheads think the solution to one mistake is to make another,” Volant explained.

  “Dr. Osgood,” the soldier said, “my people are experts in field expedient survival methods and are research assistant-qualified. We’ve been briefed on the current situation. We’ll find him and figure out where this portal leads.”

  “Another world,” Osgood assured him.

  “Some in Washington aren’t convinced of that,” Volant said. “Just because we’ve seen some strange images of a sky of a different color, doesn’t mean it’s an alien world.”

  “Need I remind you of the 23-hour days?” Osgood asked.

  “It could all be faked on a soundstage somewhere,” Volant suggested. Osgood gawked at him, his face turning red. Recognizing a deteriorating situation, the military man stepped in.

  “I can assure you both, we’ll get this matter in hand. I’m inclined to agree with the good Dr. Osgood,” he said, making a small face at his accidental double use of the word ‘good.’ “All the evidence seems to indicate it’s a portal to another world. Still, we’re here to get a definitive answer to that. Once we’ve found the missing man and made sure it’s safe, we’ll get some of your science boys over there, too. Good enough?”

  “I suppose so,” Osgood said with obvious reluctance.

  They all went inside the dome. The military team moved back against the wall and made themselves as unobtrusive as possible in the cramped space. They were all keenly observant of their surroundings and reminded Osgood of cats in a room full of mice.

  “So that’s it?” LTC Wilson asked.

  “My own personal nightmare,” Volant agreed.

  “And someone’s already gone through and survived?” Wilson asked. “You’re certain?”

  “We have video recordings of him alive and well for several days before he disappeared,” Osgood assured him.

  “Then we’re good to go.” He glanced at his squad who all, in turn, nodded their heads in agreement. Osgood glanced at Volant, who also nodded.

  “Prepare for transition,” he said, and once again the science and technical staff exploded into action. Wilson huddled with his team and had a brief, but pointed, discussion. Osgood wondered which one drew the short straw and was surprised to see the colonel step away from the group and accept a heavily-stuffed pack.

  “You’re going yourself?” Osgood said incredulously.

  “I would never ask my men to do anything I wouldn’t be willing to do myself. Frankly, I have more hours in real world survival situations than any of my team anyway.” One of his men handed him a huge rifle which the colonel expertly examined in quick, but minute detail.

  “There is no evidence of hostile life forms over there,” Osgood said, gesturing to the rifle with distaste. “I see no reason for that gun.”

  “Your man over there could have slipped and fallen,” the colonel acknowledged, “or he could have been eaten by a giant space bat. You don’t know, and neither do I.” He fit a magazine into the rifle’s well, drew the bolt back, and let it fly forward with a mechanical “Clack!” He eyed the doctor. “So, if anything decides I’m next on the menu, I’m planning on making myself a difficult meal.” He slung the weapon over his shoulder.

  “Try not to provoke an intergalactic incident,” Mark Volant requested. The colonel looked at him with a quizzical gaze, to which Volant gave a little wink, and the two men roared with laughter. “You’ll probably be calling me from somewhere in Siberia in a few minutes, for all they know.”

  “I assure you, Colonel, you are about to travel to another world—possibly another galaxy. For all we know, another universe! Or, this por
tal could be a time travel device. We just don’t know.”

  “As long as I don’t get disintegrated, I’ll deal with it,” the soldier said and mounted the dais. The portal sprang to life. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  A team rushed in and began piling plastic hard-cases on the dais. The colonel’s trip was practical as a rescue mission, but it was also an opportunity to perform an experiment. When Scott had fallen through, Volant was able to toss him the knife. Later, when the portal was activated again, nothing could go through. Now they wanted to test the boundaries of that theory.

  The people in charge of the various groups signaled their readiness and Osgood addressed the colonel.

  “Ready when you are, Colonel Wilson. Just step through.”

  “Easy for you to say,” the soldier muttered under his breath and approached the portal. It looked solid, though it had not been there before he stepped on the dais. He reached out and touched the strange flowing symbols. There was no sensation from them, though they did move in response to his hand. On the other side was what looked like a forest glade, though the trees looked like something out of an old dinosaur movie. The sky had a slightly different spectrum of light. It was just like he’d seen in the briefings.

  “Okay men,” the colonel said to the eight men who stood a short distance away. “If I do not appear to have made it safely, you are not to follow me through. Is that clear?” They nodded their understanding. “Good.”

  “Good luck,” Volant said. LTC Wilson nodded and stepped through.

  “Thrumm!” went the portal, and it turned azure blue, just like before, then back to milky white again. The energy analysts recorded data and babbled excitedly. LTC Wilson stood on the other side of the portal.

  He looked around at his surroundings for a moment then turned to glance back at those on the other side. Everyone watched him expectantly, though none more than the remaining soldiers. They could see him take several deep breaths and shrug convincingly. He took out the 10-inch tablet he’d brought and wrote on it, “No sign of ET.” Several people laughed, even Osgood.

  The team picked up the first crate and approached the portal. On the other side, Wilson unslung his rifle and descended the stairs, sweeping the clearing with his eyes and the weapon’s muzzle. The team tossed the first crate into the portal, and it flew through, rolled down the stairs, and landed at the soldier’s feet. He glanced down at it, and then back up to see another crate on the way. To avoid being clobbered, he moved toward the missing Mr. Scott’s lean-to.

  “Any spikes as the crates go through?” Osgood called.

  “Negative,” came the immediate reply. “Nothing since the subject transitioned.”

  “That mean anything?” Volant asked.

  “Could mean it’s a wormhole or something; we don’t know.”

  “When will you know?”

  Osgood shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Volant cursed and watched as the soldiers tossed more crates.

  The hard, plastic crates were numbered in bright red on the side, and a detailed inventory was kept, including their weight, down to the ounce. When the soldiers threw crate number #11, it landed with a crash on the floor, still in New York.

  “Log it,” Osgood called. What’s the tally?”

  “About four hundred and fifty pounds,” someone replied.

  “Just under 250 kilograms,” Osgood noted.

  “That’s a lot,” Volant noted.

  “Depends,” Osgood replied.

  “Oh what?”

  “Does that factor in the weight of the man and what he carried?”

  “How do we find out?”

  “Send another,” Osgood said.

  Despite the men standing on the dais where another five crates remained, the portal disappeared. They had to climb off the dais and remove the crates before it would come back to life. They found the colonel waiting with a message on his tablet.

  “No sign of Scott. Area clear to 100 meters.” There was a screen in front of the portal, placed where the colonel could see it. Osgood typed a message into a computer for Wilson to read.

  “Please run comms tests.” The colonel nodded.

  As they noted previously, the portal had remained open for 10 minutes before it had needed to be reactivated. Osgood made careful note of that fact for future use. He also noted that two of those 144 crystals were now glowing blue. It was a counter, of that he had no doubt.

  The colonel had taken several communication devices, including a simple cell phone, a high-gain military-grade transceiver, and even a tiny VLF transmitter used by downed aviators. Over the course of an hour (and six resets of the portal), they tested them all and found none could send a signal through the portal.

  “That’s disappointing,” Osgood mused.

  “So, we’re limited to posting on a computer screen?” Volant asked and gestured at the display set up nearby.

  “There might be a workaround. But for now, I think we can send the rest of the team.” Volant nodded, and the team moved pallets of plastic crates into place.

  The next man to go worked his shoulders and neck around like he was getting ready for a fight. His eyes were bright and observant, but he wasn’t sweating. Having seen for himself the alien device hadn’t vaporized his commander, or that he hadn’t been eaten by a huge flying shark on the other side, he was ready. When he activated the portal, Wilson was waiting there and waved him through. He went with no hesitation and arrived on the other side.

  The soldiers moved out of the way and crates began to fly. The seventh crate didn’t go through.

  “Three hundred and ninety pounds,” the technician said.

  “What was the next crate’s weight?”

  “Forty pounds.” Osgood nodded.

  “What does it mean?” Volant asked.

  “With all his gear, the soldier weighed 25 pounds less than the colonel. It means what he carries doesn’t count toward the total.” He addressed the equipment team again. “Please assemble a crate as close to 250 kilograms as possible, without exceeding it, and prepare for the next transition.”

  It took a little extra time to set up the next soldier’s load, so Wilson wrote on his tablet that they’d be back when the time was right, and they left to explore.

  An hour later the exact load was ready, as was the next soldier. He resettled his rifle on its sling and eyed the dais somewhat suspiciously as he stepped up, and the portal came to life. On the other side, there was no sign of the other soldiers.

  “What do you think, Sarge?” he asked the noncommissioned officer waiting with the others.

  “Go,” he said quickly. He nodded and stepped through, moving out of the way as the crate team moved up and started tossing the containers through. In only a minute, they finished.

  Osgood picked up a two-pound weight from the equipment bench and mounted the stairs. From just a few feet away, he lobbed the weight at the portal. It sailed through and clattered to the floor of the dome.

  “I’d call that confirmation,” Osgood said with a nod. The portal shut down after 10 minutes elapsed, right on time.

  Off to the side, Mark Volant was typing the last of his report into his smart phone while the fifth soldier prepared to go over. Osgood spent the time talking excitedly with technicians and other scientists.

  Proceeding as planned, a pair of technicians mounted the dais which made the portal reappear. LTC Wilson was standing directly in front on the other side, a message displayed on the computer tablet he held up.

  “Halt operations!” it said.

  Osgood immediately started typing his reply. “What happened?” he asked.

  The colonel didn’t type a reply. He just held up a shoe. The shoe was a cross trainer, unlike the army boots the soldiers all wore. It was covered in blood. Several people gasped around the room.

  “I guess we know why Mr. Scott disappeared,” Volant said. As he began to amend his report, he noted that the foot still appeared to be in the sho
e.

  * * *

  “They’re covering it up,” Alicia Benjamin typed into her chat screen.

  “You’re sure about the calculation?” Mindy asked.

  “Ran it four times,” Alicia typed. “Same results each time within less than 1/10th of a degree.” The screen remained unchanged for several seconds.

  “Well, that explains why there were no follow up articles about the asteroid.”

  “Yes,” Alicia typed. “So, what do we do?”

  “SETI isn’t without friends in the community,” Mindy typed. The words glowed in the nearly-dark control room of Alicia’s little observatory. “And we don’t have the same publication rules you do in the UK.”

  “But what if I’m wrong?” Alicia asked.

  “Are you?”

  “No,” she insisted. “I’ll email you my calculations right away.”

  “And we’ll publish ASAP,” Mindy said from almost half a world away.

  “I can’t thank you enough,” Alicia said.

  “They’re not going to destroy you like they did me,” Mindy insisted. “Not this time. Besides, this is big. People need to know.”

  Mindy cut the connection, and Alicia sat back, picked up her tea, and sipped it with a slight smile on her face. Then she looked back at the other computer and sighed. The screen still showed the plot of LM-245, up to where it perfectly intersected Earth’s orbit.

  * * *

  Mindy finished the emails she needed to send and found she wasn’t tired. After reviewing the next day’s schedule, she decided to process some of the data. Even with the supercomputer cycles they’d recently rented, there was much more to do. She was just getting tired when her cellphone rang. She answered without looking at the screen.

  “Mindy,” she said.

  “Hi,” an all-too-familiar voice said.