Overture (Earth Song)

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Overture (Earth Song) Page 10

by Mark Wandrey


  “There were no indications of hostile life forms on the other side of the Portal. If there are any intelligent aliens, we don’t want to provoke an intergalactic incident.”

  “Right, in the entire ten seconds that you recorded there was nothing there. I have no intention of becoming an intergalactic entrée.” Lt. Col. Wilson slapped a clip into his M-4 and thumbed the slide release to load the weapon. Osgood’s eyes got a little wider and he took a step back. Lt. Col. Wilson smirked and mounted the steps at the base of the dais. Just as always, the glowing circular Portal with hovering icons around the edge sprang to life. “Ready when you are!” He slung his rifle and they all leaned close like football players in a huddle.

  “All right people,” Osgood yelled, “this is for the record!” More instruments were turned on while still others on long articulated booms were moved in from either side to afford the best angles possible. One of the soldiers cursed and slapped at a boom as it bumped him in the back of the head.

  Final preparations only took another minute before Osgood was able to give the thumbs up. “We’re ready to roll!”

  “Okay men,” Lt. Col. Wilson said, “it’s time.” He turned back to the eight remaining soldiers watching with eyes wide a short distance away. The image of Bernie being disintegrated was fixed firmly in all their minds. “The rest of you are only to proceed if we made it through okay and have visual proof; you are not to risk your lives solely on their assurance that we made it. I will send a message from the other side. In the absence of any communication from me, you are absolutely not to proceed. Agent Mark Volant here is in charge. If we get vaporized you have my authorization to shoot any egghead that tries to make you follow us in order to ‘establish a scientific sampling’.”

  Osgood laughed as did most of the scientists, but then it trailed off into a difficult silence as the Lt. Colonel just stared at him. Osgood cleared his throat, “Okay, we’re ready whenever you are. Just step through when you feel like it.”

  “Easy for you to say,” he mumbled and turned to the Portal. Facing death was nothing new to him. Taking point in enemy territory was much harder than this. He knew at the worst he wouldn't end up face down in the mud bleeding out. If it went wrong he wouldn't feel a thing. With a deep breath he stepped through.

  Everyone in the room gasped as the Portal turned to brilliant purple and Lt. Col. Wilson disappeared. A split second later the center of the Portal became a window, just as before, and there he was standing on the other side. The sun was shining and a dense forest was visible in the near distance. The sky had a decidedly orange tinge to it.

  “Good Lord, it is another world,” Volant gasped, suddenly feeling unsteady on his feet and grabbing a nearby table for support.

  “You bet your ass it is,” Osgood cheered. Lt. Col. Wilson turned around and looked at them, his face a mask of wonder. He let his unused gas mask fall to this side, forgotten. To Osgood he looked more than a little surprised to be alive. They watched him do a couple of squats to test his reflexes and breathe deeply a couple times. He then closed his eyes and stood on one foot. His balance was perfect and he opened his eyes with a smile, giving them a little wave.

  A technician in clear view of the Portal held up one hand with five fingers and began counting down. From the other side Lt. Col. Wilson saw him counting and he made eye contact with his men still on Earth. He gave them a nod and followed it with a thumbs up just as the Portal shimmered and disappeared. “First transition successful,” announced a voice over the PA system just in case every eye hadn’t been transfixed on the incredible event.

  “Same radiation levels?” Osgood asked.

  “Identical. If we’re going to keep doing this we need to get some shielding in here for those constantly exposed. Also, the background EM flux and neutrons emitted had decreased by something less than one percent.”

  “That’s interesting,” Osgood thought out loud. He remembered the ideas of the scientist that had mistakenly stepped through the Portal ten days ago. He had suggested that the Portal itself was made of pure energy. If that were the case, the decrease in background radiation was likely in reply to the depletion of that energy store each time it was used. As he worked, he pulled out his Blackberry and made some notes.

  As had been planned, a clock began counting down. Fifteen minutes passed, many of the scientists reviewing the recordings of Lt. Col. Wilson while others prepared for the next phase. The three remaining soldiers in the first group waited impatiently.

  Finally the clock reached zero. “Next up!” Osgood shouted. The second soldier lowered his head for a moment, like Lt. Col. Wilson had done, and when he looked up he stepped through without further hesitation. Just as before the room was filled with a bright splash of purple light and the soldier appeared on the other side. The same scene of trees and an orange sky was there, but what wasn’t there was Lt. Col. Wilson.

  The soldier just stood and looked around for a moment before he realized he was alone. His weapon came up to shoulder height and he dropped to a crouch. Osgood was struck by how much it looked like a scene playing out from a movie. The man slowly turned 360 degrees as he searched for threats.

  “This is the part when the alien monster eats the red shirt,” someone said and drew a few nervous chuckles. When the soldier completed his visual search he turned back to the Portal and shrugged. “Well, where the fuck is G.I. Joe?” asked someone else, perhaps the same person who had made the Star Trek joke.

  The omnipresent digital clock that had started the moment the second soldier stepped through was nearly to zero. Osgood turned to his computer, selected a prearranged message and stabbed the enter key. On an LCD screen facing the Portal the message read; “Continue as planned, next transition in 15 minutes…” On the other side the man read the message. He nodded his head and stepped toward the Portal, putting his hand out he gingerly touched the solid energy wall. He was shaking his head in amazement when the Portal shimmered and disappeared.

  “Same numbers again on emissions,” the particle physics team reported. “And the same drop in background as well.”

  As they all analyzed the data, a team of workers began to arrive bearing large metal plates with legs to keep them upright. “Got your ball shields here!” said one of the workers, evoking a chorus of laughs from around the room.

  “What about us?” asked one of the soldiers.

  “Well,” Osgood explained, “since you’re only going to be here for a couple of transitions, the exposure is minimal. Our exposure is considerably more repetitive. Over time it could be dangerous for us.” The two remaining soldiers looked at each other. “You'll be fine,” he assured them.

  The timer counted down to zero and once again Osgood gave the order to go ahead. The third soldier stepped forward and through the Portal. Because of the new shields, almost everyone watched the event on television screens out of necessity. When the view solidified there were hoots and whistles from many. All three soldiers were now standing on the platform together. Lt. Col. Wilson waved and nodded for the camera and the remaining soldiers on the Earth side heaved a silent sigh of relief.

  It was apparent that in the intervening time the soldiers had kept to the mission plan. The specially constructed transmitter carried through in parts by the first three soldiers was now assembled and waiting. Lt. Col. Wilson held the keypad in his hands and he gave the thumbs up. “Prepare to modulate frequencies for data capture,” Osgood instructed. The red light on the dish that pointed through the Portal and back to Earth began flashing. That visual signal informed the receiver on the Earth side to begin running a prearranged sequence of signal frequencies, both devices attempting to send and receive precise signal frequencies and modulations. As it worked against the counting clock, technicians ran up the platform laden with crates. They exchanged nervous looks and swung the first crate at the shimmering Portal.

  Just like the Swiss Army knife Mark Volant tossed to the still missing scientist, the crate passed through the
Portal and hit the ground on the other side. The soldiers quickly grabbed the bouncing crate before it could bowl into the transmitter. They put it aside just as the technicians sent the next crate through.

  The crates were heaved through one after another as time counted down and the transmitters worked their magic. “We’ve got a com-lock!” yelled the communications expert. “Data is being multiplexed.” And as the digital clock would down to five seconds remaining there was a loud bang and clatter. The case being thrown by the two sweating technicians had just bounced off the still shining Portal and was clattering down the steps.

  “Go now!” barked Osgood to the last solder waiting just to the side of the crate throwers. The man was initially surprised, but to his credit still managed to turn and perform a good standing broad jump through the Portal. The count reached zero and the Portal was still open. The newly arrived soldier shook hands with the men on that side, them taking a quick break from moving crates, and then began to take in his new world. “More crates!” Osgood called immediately. Meanwhile he could see the communications systems flashing away busily sending information back and forth.

  The first team of crate-tossers was becoming exhausted, but this had been anticipated and two fresh men jumped in to relieve them. Still more men were passing them crates as quickly as they were being thrown to the distant world. Though there had been no practice the men did a good job, only losing a few seconds here and there. Now that there were four sets of hands on the other side the crates were caught in the air instead of on the first bounce, and the work moved quicker than before. The clock was down to five seconds when a crate bounced off the shimmering Portal, knocking over both of the surprised men. As the clock reached zero, the view shimmered and disappeared.

  “We have a baseline,” Osgood told Volant a half hour later. “A person going through resets the clock to twenty seconds. We also have a specific figure on the mass allowances.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Well, we were curious since inanimate objects could only pass through after a person first traveled. Was there a limit? Since the Portal only stays open for twenty seconds, can you just drive a semi-truck through with each person?”

  “That would be convenient.”

  “Right, but it’s not that simple. You see how those crates bounced off after a while? Well, we had the weight of the men and equipment before they went though, plus or minus a few bullets, and it works out to four hundred kilos per person.”

  “So each person opens the way for about 900 pounds including his carcass. Why didn’t Bernie make it through?”

  “A living human being has to go through first. At that point we could probably throw through several corpses with no problem, if that’s what you’re looking for.” A technician handed him a sheet of paper and Osgood read it quickly. “There’s more,” he said.

  “Oh, I’m sure there is.”

  “Every time the Portal is used to transport a person there is a 0.6494 percent drop in the power emissions. Now that five people have gone through the power level contained in the dais is about 3.5 percent lower than when it started.” He walked around the dais to point at five glowing white lights. “Like Hooper started to say before he took a wrong step, there are one hundred forty-four lights on this side. Five are now lit. Only one hundred forty-four people can go through. A fantastic device, but only a small number can take advantage of it.” A short distance away the remaining eight soldiers waited to hear if they too would be passing through the Portal.

  “But why, for cryin’ out loud?” Volant demanded. At that moment his phone rang. The voice on the other line had his answer. “Stand down,” he ordered the rest of the men, “We need to have a conference before recommencing operations.”

  Alicia regretted her decision just minutes after she'd made it, but the moment to back out was passed. For five days she had poured over the data. Something was wrong and she was going insane trying to figure it out. No one was more familiar with LM-245 than Alicia. She had spent hundreds of hours observing its ponderous rotation around the sun. It had been in opposition to Earth only once in the last five years. In the last week of September she had watched the irregularly shaped rock soar by, only slightly farther away than the moon. It wasn't every day a NEO (Near Earth Object) passed that close, and the event made for international news. She had been interviewed numerous times as the most knowledgeable amateur astronomer on LM-245. To her the rock was like a distant relative she had only ever seen close up once.

  Five days ago she'd realized what had been driving her bloody nuts. The view of LM-245 was far too good. Having just emerged from behind the sun, details should have been hard to come by. Instead she saw much more detail than she expected. Among those details was the fact that its rotation was altered. The transition around the sun had somehow canceled nearly all its rotation. Where it had once spun once every seventy-two minutes, now it rotated only once every ten days. In addition, all yaw and pitch were gone. LM-245 wasn’t tumbling lazily through space anymore; it was as if the huge bowling pin shaped rock had been aimed.

  Armed with that new information, she spent every hour possible making observations, begging other astronomers around the world to do so as well. It only took two more days to get the data. And it was with this terrible information that she had been able to get into the forum.

  An online monthly meeting of the WAA was heavily attended, and it provided a chance for many to kiss ass and make themselves look good. Alicia was poised in front of her computer waiting for the signal. She watched the meeting progress as she had many times before.

  “Regular business is now concluded,” announced the moderator finally. “And we now move to open forum. Please press the request icon if you wish to be recognized, and we will give you the floor for one minute each, based on association seniority.”

  Alicia pressed the attention icon and waited. She knew that thousands of miles away a talented hacker was doing unspeakable things to the WAA’s chat program. She consoled herself by remembering that this was the only way. Just as she’d been told to expect, her screen flashed that she had the floor. “The WAA monthly meeting recognizes Toby McGill from Ireland.” Alicia bent over the keys and began typing.

  “Greetings everyone, I have a discovery of great importance to share. The orbital data is available at the following URL,” and she pasted in the prearranged address. While anyone could have the floor in the chat program, only the moderator could type replies, which served to keep the thousands of members who participated in these monthly forums from overwhelming the conversation with endless typed replies. Not surprisingly it was the moderator who suddenly jumped in.

  “While I’m sure we are all interested in what this discovery is, I am mystified by who it is that brings this to us. Our records keeper just informed me that Dr. McGill died eleven months ago. Very creative, whomever you are, to get onto the program with an account that was due to expire soon. So since you are a fraud, I bid you farewell.”

  Alicia waited and crossed her fingers. Her screen did not go blank, there was no message informing her that she had been cut off. Her friend had done a good job. “I would rather not be silenced at this time,” she typed triumphantly, “My name is Alicia Benjamin, and what I have to say needs to be heard regardless of what the Association thinks.”

  “Ah, our defrocked member who sees things that aren’t there, come back to wreak havoc at this meeting as your pitiful revenge?”

  “If that is how you want to remember me, that is your choice. But I’m not here for revenge. Although I suspect there will be a certain amount of vindication in my data.”

  “Has your mysterious asteroid disappeared again?”

  “No, it’s still there. And soon everyone will know it’s there, because it’s coming for a visit!” There was no reply for a long moment and she began to wonder if they had cut her off after all. Alicia was sure they were working furiously to cut her out of the network. She'd been assured that the only way they
would succeed was to bring down the entire chat and restart it, something they would probably only do as a last resort. Her main job now was to keep the moderator talking while the curiosity of the many members listening in took effect.

  “Your asteroid appeared right on time, right where it should have been.”

  “I have to admit, that mystified me in the beginning. But I’ve spent so many hours looking at LM-245; I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. So I kept looking until it came to me. As some of you are no doubt learning by looking at the data on that URL I gave you a few minutes ago, LM-245 made several changes as it passed behind the sun. Whatever event I witnessed pushed the asteroid into a much shallower orbit.

  “This new orbit grazed the sun’s photosphere. Whatever pushed it into that new orbit took extreme measures to conceal the effects. Half the asteroid’s surface was melted, erasing all of its once familiar impact marks. The rotation was almost eliminated as well. It took five days for me to see the changes.”

  “Fascinating. So someone, or something, I would guess you are saying, altered the orbit of LM-245 in such a way that it dove through the highest levels of the sun’s atmosphere and emerged right where it should have been, based on our observations, but much closer to Earth's orbit. And why, if I might ask, would some other worldly power go to this effort?”

  “To kill us,” was her simple reply. “Look at the data and judge for yourself. On May 21st LM-245 will impact the Earth and we’ll all have our answers.” At that point whoever was operating the chat program gave up trying to silence Alicia and shut down the chat program.

  Alicia’s IM beeped. “Damn fine job!” was Mindy’s message to her.

  “Well played,” chimed in a friend at SETI.

  “I guess we’ll see what happens,” Alicia replied.

  “There is always a member or two of the press watching these monthly meetings,” Mindy told her. “I’m certain curiosity will get the better of them. At least because of the drama factor.”

 

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