Genesis Dimension

by J Boyd Long

  They turned and plowed through the shallows to the sand. Bob ran ahead to where the clothes were piled up and drew a knife from his belt. As soon as they were above the water line, he pulled the fish out of the net and killed it with an expert stroke. He knelt down and gutted it, tossing the innards towards the water.

  “I can’t believe I caught a fish,” Eissa giggled. She thrust her fishing pole at Quentin. “Here, I’m going to put some clothes back on before my boobs get sunburned.”

  Quentin was horrified to find himself staring at her bare chest. He glanced away, but with Bob and Tocho standing there, everywhere he looked there was some form of flesh that he didn’t want to see. He fled to his pile of clothing, feeling awkward and embarrassed. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” he mumbled. “I’m going to do the same thing.”

  ◆◆◆

  That evening, as they sat around the table eating Eissa’s bonefish and a can of baked beans, Bob brought up the discussion from earlier that afternoon.

  “I don’t see how we can make any sort of plan, or get prepared for anything, unless we make an exploratory excursion to Number One,” he said. “We just don’t have enough information to do anything.”

  “I assume Number One is Dimcorp’s home dimension?” Quentin asked.

  “Right,” Tocho said. “Dimension Number One. They call it the Genesis Dimension.”

  “It’s not the first dimension,” Bob said, clarifying the title. “Or if it is, that would be a coincidence. They call it that because until they discovered a dimension outside of their own, they were the only dimension they knew of. So, the first one they discovered became Number Two, and so on.”

  That made sense. If Quentin had been in charge of naming them, he probably would have done it the same way. The real first dimension split probably happened when the first form of life occurred. They might have even seen the first dimension, now that he thought about it. The lifeless, barren void they had seen on their first attempt to cross back to their own dimension was a good candidate for the one where life didn’t occur.

  “I’ve been thinking about this, too,” Tocho said, steering them back to the topic. “I came to the same conclusion. Until we know what we’re dealing with, we can’t make a plan to destroy it.”

  “I caught a fish,” Eissa said. “I didn’t come up with a plan because I was focused on catching our supper. You can thank me later for covering for you.”

  “I’m really nervous about the lack of facts,” Quentin said, ignoring her. “I don’t think I can deliver much of anything unless we do some sort of recon. I haven’t even looked at the computer in the door yet, but it won’t change much. I agree, we need to go there, as terrifying as it is to say that.”

  “What do you think?” Tocho asked Bob. “Do we send two of us over to see what we can find out?”

  Bob sighed. “I’m scared to even open the door there,” he said. “Assuming we can even get there, which is a big assumption at this point. We definitely can’t close the door if we split up, since it might not open back up to the same dimension. What if we can’t get back? What if there are guards on the other side? We’ve got four lives hanging in the balance every step of the way now, not just two. That changes things.”

  “Those are valid concerns,” Tocho said. “But if we don’t do anything, everyone’s lives are going to be disrupted, in all the dimensions. Violently. It’s what they do.”

  “I know, I know,” Bob said. “Logic doesn’t make it any easier of a decision.”

  “How about this,” Quentin said. “Let’s do a one-second recon. We crack the door open six inches. Three of us look around, one left, one right, one center, while one of us has a hand on the kill switch. One second, then we shut the door and pull the fuse. Then we compare notes on what we saw, and we at least have something to go on for the next recon mission.”

  Bob looked leaned back in his chair with a sigh and began combing his fingers through his beard. His eyebrows were furrowed as he stared at the table, and he grunted a few times without saying anything.

  “It’s got merit,” Tocho said. He took a slow drink of water. “We could probably see a decent bit in one second, and they wouldn’t have time to react, even if there were guards on the other side. What’s the worst case scenario?”

  “Well, worst case is that they know we’re still around, and that we’re on the war path,” Bob said. “If that happens, we won’t be able to go to DimCorp from our door again.”

  “Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained,” Quentin said. He hoped he could find a way to feel as brave as he was acting. “Does anyone have a better plan?”

  No one spoke.

  “When do you want to do it?” Tocho asked. “It doesn’t seem like we need to do much to prepare for this first one.”

  “I guess we could do it this evening,” Bob said. “We do need to do a bit of prep work, though. Mainly, everyone needs to know what features to look for. One second isn’t much time, so we want to look for things like guards, cameras, big computer cabinets, bundles of cables going in a certain direction, and that sort of thing. That way we’re gathering useful information.”

  “That’s a good heads up,” Eissa said. “If we use our phones, we could take a video, too. That might be helpful.”

  Quentin looked at her quickly, startled. “Shit,” he said, grinning sheepishly. “I didn’t even think about that.”

  Bob looked up. “What’s that?”

  Quentin wasn’t sure how much he needed to explain. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Smart phones. Are you familiar with them?”

  Bob nodded. “I’ve seen phones before, but I didn’t realize you had them.”

  “Well, I sort of forgot we did. They’ve been shut off to save battery power, since we don’t have a charger.” Quentin slid the phone back in his pocket. “They’ll definitely be useful on this kind of a recon mission.”

  They cleaned up the dinner dishes and made their way to the DimGate. The evening sun was still fairly high in the sky, giving them a few hours of daylight. Bob opened the panel and tinkered with the settings. Quentin powered up his phone while he waited, and Eissa did the same.

  “Okay, I have about half a battery,” Quentin said. He had used it as a flashlight back in the barn, and in Zimmerman’s office before that. Now he was wishing that he hadn’t.

  “I’ve only got twenty percent,” Eissa said. “We should be alright for a quick video or two, but that’s about it.”

  “My kingdom for a charger,” Quentin said. “Not that there’s any place to plug one in.” He gave a short, barking laugh.

  “One thing at a time,” Tocho said. “Why don’t you take a look at the computer on the door and see if you can figure it out?”

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Bob said. “Come on over here, and I’ll show you what I know about it.”

  Quentin watched the control screen as Bob went through some of the menu options. It was almost identical to the screen on the DimGate back in Zimmerman’s office. There, he had only been able to glance over things, and he hadn’t understood what he was looking at. Now that he knew it was a portal between dimensions, everything made more sense.

  “It looks like all these options are for destination control and stuff. Is there another settings menu in there, or something that’s not about the door itself?”

  “I don’t know. I know how to do what we do with it, but I’ve never tried to do that kind of stuff. This isn’t really something that you can do trial and error with.”

  Quentin took over the touchscreen and explored the list of windows and menu items. It didn’t take long to see everything there was to see. There were a few self-diagnostic tools, a troubleshooting guide, options to turn various components and elements on and off, and the destination input fields. That was about it.

  “I can’t really tell anything about the operating system. It’s really limited on what you can even access with it. Maybe there’s a special code to access some other p
art of the system, but without knowing what it is, I’ll never find it.”

  “Can you learn how to use it well enough to write a virus for it?”

  Quentin opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again. He didn’t have enough information about the computer to know if he could manipulate it or not, but he didn’t want to sound unsure of himself. They were all looking to him as the subject matter expert, and while it was a feeling that he liked, he still felt like an imposter. He licked his lips. Be confident. Trust your skills. It was time to put those hours at the therapist to work.

  “I’ll have to get on one of the primary computers to be sure,” Quentin said, “but this all looks pretty similar to what I know. I should be able to find my way into everything without too much trouble.”

  “Hooray,” Tocho cheered, clapping his hands. “That’s what I like to hear. Now then, let’s do a practice run here, so everyone knows what to do. Who’s going to operate the shut-off switch?”

  “I will,” Bob said.

  “Okay,” Tocho said, moving to stand right in front of the door. “So, if we stand in front of the door, we can get a feel for our range of motion and vision. Eissa, if you are down on your knees, you can film and watch the left side. I’ll be down beside you, looking straight ahead. Quentin, you stand over us, and stick your phone through the door like so, and film the right side. Does that work for everyone?”

  “You’ll be the first man to ever get me on my knees,” Eissa said.

  “Hey, we’re breaking down barriers,” Tocho said with a smile. “Now then, let’s all get in position and do a dry run.”

  Eissa and Tocho knelt down in front of the door. Quentin straddled their legs and leaned against the door jamb with his left hand to brace himself.

  “That’s not going to work,” Bob pointed out. “You’ve got to stick the camera through the door with your left hand, and you’ll have to open and close the door with your right hand.”

  They shuffled around and managed to get everyone situated. Tocho put his hand on the doorknob.

  “Everyone ready for the test run?” he asked.

  Eissa and Quentin positioned their phones as Bob counted down. Tocho opened the door, and they slid the cameras through for a second, and then pulled them back. Tocho closed the door.

  “Okay, what did you see?” Bob asked them.

  “Uh, I was looking at my phone,” Eissa admitted. “I didn’t actually see anything.”

  “Me, too,” Quentin said. “I was trying to make sure it was pointing the right way, and that I didn’t have my hand in front of the camera or something.”

  “Okay, so we need a few more practice runs,” Tocho said. “Ideally, we should all look around, as well as video it.”

  “Also, we need some sort of metronome, or counter, or something,” Quentin said. “Some way of knowing how long the door has been open, and when we need to pull our hands back for Tocho to close the door. That way we aren’t fumbling around, or dropping our phones if Tocho starts to close it before we realize it.”

  “Yeah, time gets subjective in the heat of the moment,” Eissa said. “What if we count out loud together, like ‘Open, in, wait, out, close’ or something like that?”

  They all got back in their stance, and Bob started them off. This time, the cameras slid in as the door was opening, and slid out just as it closed.

  “Perfect,” Tocho said. “I think we’re ready to do it for real. Does everyone remember what we’re looking for?”

  “Yes, we’ve got it,” Eissa said. “Let’s do it and get it done, this is killing my knees.”

  “If you spent more-” Quentin started to say.

  “Shut it,” Eissa said, cutting him off. “Don’t even think it.”

  Quentin laughed. “It’s like you know me.”

  “Okay,” Bob called out. “This is the real deal. Everyone ready?”

  They each nodded, focused on Tocho’s hand on the door. Quentin’s breath quickened, and he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. The last thing he wanted to do was let the phone slip out of his grasp. Knowing his luck, it would land on the other side, and he’d lose it.

  “Focus on the chant,” Bob said. “Stay on task, and don’t get distracted by what you see on the other side. We might not even be going to the right dimension, so keep that in mind. Here we go, press record, and in three, two….”

  Chapter 16

  Quentin held his breath, his eyes glued to Tocho’s hand on the doorknob. He repeated the cadence silently, visualizing each move he had to make. Not knowing what to expect on the other side of the door made it hard to mentally prepare. He might fancy himself a spontaneous adventurer, but in reality, Quentin liked knowing exactly what to expect. His focus grew more intense as Bob counted down.

  “One…”

  “Wait, wait,” Eissa shouted. She lurched to her feet, pushing Quentin back out of the way. “I gotta pee before we do this. Sorry.”

  Quentin stood up and threw his hands in the air in exasperation as she trotted into the trees. He might not admit it, but she had scared the hell out of him, jumping up like that. He looked around at the others.

  “Well, she’s got a point,” Tocho said. “I need to pee too, now that I think about it.”

  Quentin’s heart was pounding, and his arms were heavy with the unused adrenaline that saturated his muscles. “Goddammit, this is stressful enough without you trying to ice the kicker,” he shouted after her.

  “Ice the kicker? What does that mean?” Tocho paused at the edge of the trees.

  “It’s something they do in football, in sports,” Quentin explained. “When the guy is about to kick the ball through the goal, the other team calls a time out to mess with his head. Then he has to get himself psyched up all over again.”

  “I see,” Tocho said, turning back towards the woods. “Well, I guess we’ll remember to pee before we start the next mission. That’s actually a really important detail.”

  “Yes, it is,” Bob agreed. “I can’t believe we forgot about it. We’re even rustier than I thought.”

  A minute later, Tocho and Eissa returned, and they all resumed their positions.

  “Okay, for real this time,” Bob said. Quentin and Eissa pressed the record button on their phones. “Hopefully we’re in the right dimension. Three, two, one, go.”

  Quentin held his breath as Tocho reached for the doorknob. His pulse throbbed in his temples, and his senses were hyper-alert as he tried to be ready for anything. What if they went to the wrong dimension again? So many things could go wrong here that hadn’t seemed important a few minutes ago. So little could go right, really. He pried his eyes away from Tocho’s hand and shifted his gaze up to head level. There was no time for second-guessing himself.

  Chanting softly, Tocho twisted the knob. Open. He pushed the door open a few inches. Quentin was looking straight ahead at a row of DimGates. They were all similar to their door in size, although they varied in appearance. In. Eissa and Quentin stuck their phones through the gap and looked around. Wait. He couldn’t see any people, no guards with guns pointed at them, and no bundles of cable on the floor. Out. As their hands cleared the door, Tocho slid it closed, and Bob quickly hit the emergency stop button and removed a fuse from the panel. Quentin let out his breath as a flood of relief washed over him.

  “Okay,” Bob said, stepping over to them as they climbed to their feet. “What did you see?”

  “Not a lot,” Eissa said. “It looked like we were in a warehouse full of DimGates, except that it was awfully clean and well-lit for a warehouse.”

  “Yeah, I just saw a bunch of doors,” Quentin said. “No people, no computers, just doors.”

  “I think we were in the middle of the main floor,” Tocho said. “It was definitely the Genesis Dimension. Last time we went there, we were on an outside row. We carried the bomb straight from the door to the wall. This time we were in the same room, but back from the edge a few rows.”

  “I used the exact same coo
rdinates,” Bob said. “They must have changed the layout of the room when they rebuilt it.”

  Quentin realized that the video was still recording and hit the stop button. “Well, I just wasted some battery,” he said. “Not much, though.”

  “Let’s see what you got,” Bob said.

  They gathered around the phone, straining to see. Quentin played the video from the top.

  The opening two seconds was of their side of the door, with Bob’s head poking around the side of the frame. Then it slid past the door in a moment of darkness, and brightened in a corridor. The floor was dirty white, as was the high ceiling. There were four DimGates side by side on each side of the corridor, in fact, creating the corridor. At the end of the row was an open space, and then a wall. The wall was also a dirty white color, and was only distinguished from the floor and the ceiling by the large blue arrow painted on it, pointing to the left. They barely had time to take it all in before the camera slid back past the door to their side again. Eissa’s video was almost identical, except that the wall with the arrow was further away.