Bridgers 1_The Lure of Infinity

by Stan C. Smith

  Desmond was already exhausted, and he was aware it would be easier just to find another place to hide. But at this moment he wanted to be up there with Infinity and Xavier and Lenny—perhaps more than anything he had ever wanted before. And what else was he going to do to kill the time? The thought of sitting alone somewhere in this hellish place for an hour or more without his friends was unbearable.

  He began dragging the body downstream, limping and grunting from the effort and from the pain of his wounds.

  Infinity called down to him—something about the stupidity of what he was doing. Xavier also said something, but Desmond was no longer listening. He pulled the body to the place where they had crossed the previous day. He waded across, ignoring the fish trying to feed on his skin. After pulling the body the rest of the way across, he tied the rope around his waist. He then turned around and leaned into it, slowly and painstakingly inching the bird’s body up the sloped riverbank. When the body was on nearly-level ground, he turned and started walking upstream, dragging it between trees and over rocks and rotting logs. When he reached the base of the hill leading up to the top of the cliff, he stopped to rest. For a moment he thought he was still wet from the river, but he realized he was actually covered in his own sweat. He stood there, hands on his knees, until he had stopped wheezing. The rope was already rubbing skin off his waist, so he situated it a bit higher.

  This entire grueling task had been a terrible idea. But he needed a purpose.

  He started up the hill, dragging the body. The incline gradually increased, and soon he was pulling the body just a few inches at a time, resting between each effort while trying to prevent it from sliding back down.

  Eventually, he emerged from the forest onto the open hillside. Now he could see the hill’s summit, the place where they had killed the creature he was dragging. It wasn’t far. But it seemed impossibly distant.

  Lean and strain, dragging the body a few inches. Rest. Lean and strain. A few inches more. Rest.

  He paused to look at the sun. How long had it been?

  Abruptly, the sun and sky disappeared.

  Desmond landed on his feet, but then he collapsed onto his face, hitting the white, padded floor and leaving a splotch of blood and grime. Suddenly nauseous, he rolled to his side and cupped a hand over his mouth. A few seconds later, the urge to throw up passed.

  “Severe injuries!” Infinity cried, her voice breaking and weakened. “First priority to Lenny. Unconscious from blood loss and possibly other factors. Bite wounds to his foot and ankle. Second priority, Xavier. Compound fracture, lower leg. Third priority, Desmond. Multiple stab wounds, broken nose, and possible internal injuries and shock from a forty-foot fall.”

  Desmond got to his knees as the airlock popped open and techs in white biosuits swarmed into the bridging room. Xavier was curled up on his side heaving, but nothing was coming out. Lenny was sprawled face down, motionless. A few feet away was a pile of black and red goo, pincushioned with splintered bones. Desmond stared at it, confused.

  “It’s best if you don’t look at him,” Infinity said.

  He turned. She was sitting up, talking to him.

  “We all bridge back, dead or alive,” she said.

  A gurney was wheeled in, and the techs lifted Lenny onto it and took him out. Another was brought in, and they lifted Xavier to his feet. As they helped him onto the gurney, his eyes met Desmond’s.

  “We made it back,” Xavier said.

  Desmond nodded.

  The techs then wheeled Xavier out.

  “Infinity, are you okay?” The voice was Armando Doyle’s. It had come from speakers somewhere in the ceiling.

  “I’ve been better.”

  “Can you walk on your own, sir?”

  Desmond realized the tech beside him had spoken to him. “Yeah, I can walk.”

  “This way, then.” The tech took him by the arm, helped him to his feet, and guided him toward the airlock.

  “What in God’s name happened?” Doyle asked.

  “What the hell does it look like?” Infinity groaned as she got to her feet. “I’ll tell you about it in the interview.”

  “How soon will you be ready?”

  Desmond was almost through the first airlock door, but he stopped.

  Infinity frowned and looked at Doyle through the window to the control room. “What’s going on? I thought you weren’t even going to be here?”

  The tech pulled on Desmond’s arm, but he refused to move. Something didn’t seem right.

  “I returned from California sooner than I had planned,” Doyle said. “Something has changed. In fact, everything has changed.”

  16

  Interview

  Once the three tourists had been taken to the med lab, a tech brought in a gurney for Infinity. She had been injured on plenty of past excursions, but she had never allowed the techs to wheel her out of the bridging room. It hurt like hell to walk, and her pride had already been shredded anyway, so she accepted the help.

  “Can you prioritize your injuries, Infinity?” The question came from the med tech, a woman named Poppy Safran. Poppy was the first to examine Infinity after every bridge-back.

  Infinity gently touched her right hip. “This is the worst. Arrow went all the way through. I don’t even know if the bone is intact.”

  Poppy poked at the entrance wound, examining it. “You tried to plug this?”

  “A mud plug.”

  Behind her biosuit faceplate, Poppy shook her head. “Jesus, Infinity.” She reached for the handle of the digital X-ray machine mounted to the ceiling and pulled it down and into place above Infinity’s hip. “Let’s take a quick look. We’ll take more detailed X-rays later—I know Armando needs to talk to you ASAP.” She loosened a knob on the flat X-ray detector positioned beneath the table and moved it into place beneath Infinity’s hip. “Hold your breath, hon.” She tapped the touchscreen display a few times and stared at the resulting image. “Can you roll onto your left side?”

  Infinity complied. “What’s up with Armando?”

  “I’d better let him explain. Don’t breathe.” She took another image.

  Infinity didn’t like the sound of that. “Explain what?”

  Poppy studied the image, ignoring the question. “I don’t see any fractures or chipping. From what I can tell, the object just missed the femoral head, maybe by only a few millimeters. If it had damaged your femoral head, you wouldn’t be walking at all. I’d say you were lucky—as usual.”

  “Good to know. Explain what, Poppy?”

  Poppy gazed at her through the biosuit’s faceplate. “If this is the worst of your injuries, you’ll be moving around like normal in a few weeks. Which is good, because we need you.”

  Infinity frowned and studied Poppy’s face. The med tech wasn’t acting like herself. She was nervous, blinking frequently, and perspiring, even though her biosuit was cooled. “I was thinking of taking some time off,” Infinity said. “This excursion was a goddamn disaster. Maybe I’m even done for good.”

  Poppy pursed her lips and shook her head. She was actually trembling. “No, Infinity, you’re not.”

  Twenty minutes later, Poppy put Infinity in a wheelchair and took her to the interview chamber. Infinity had been shot up with antibiotics as well as a moderate stimulant to help her get through the interview. A gel pack had been taped to each of her wounds, which meant about 40% of her body was now covered in tape.

  Poppy opened the chamber door and wheeled her in. The room was actually part of the sealed bridging recovery area, so there was no need for an airlock here. Poppy positioned Infinity and her wheelchair behind the waist-high concealment barrier. The tech then unfolded a sterile paper gown and handed it to Infinity.

  “What the hell is this?” Infinity asked.

  “Armando told us to make an exception this time. You might want to cover up.” She stepped to the door, but then she turned back to gaze at Infinity, creases etched into the skin on the sides of her mouth. �
�Infinity, I’ve always admired you. You’re the best bridger we have. Thank you.”

  This strange statement was further evidence that something was happening, but Infinity was too exhausted to try extracting more information from Poppy. She would be in the loop soon enough. Before Poppy shut the door, Infinity said, “Where’s the tourist, Desmond? He’s well enough to be here for the interview, isn’t he?”

  “I think he is. But we thought you might want to do it without—”

  “I want him here.”

  She nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Several minutes later, Poppy brought Desmond in, also in a wheelchair, and parked him beside Infinity.

  “Thank you, Poppy,” Infinity said.

  The med tech gave her a smile, but it was obviously forced. She then stepped out and closed the door.

  Infinity looked Desmond up and down. Like her, he was covered in taped-on gel packs. A paper gown, still folded, lay in his lap. “Your friends doing okay?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. They took them both straight to surgery. Lenny might lose his foot.”

  “He won’t. We’ve got good people here.”

  He nodded and then glanced around the room. “I don’t know these people like you do, but they’re acting kind of—”

  The room behind the plexiglass window lit up abruptly as someone turned on the lights. Armando stepped into the room. Behind him came three more men, all in white shirts and ties—probably academics, although two of them seemed unusually lean and attentive. The third, an older man, looked familiar to Infinity. Had she seen him in the interview room before?

  She sensed the tourist tensing up beside her and frowned at him.

  He shot her a glance. “What’s going on? Why is Morgan Macpherson here?”

  She looked through the window again as the men took their seats. Why did that name sound familiar? She turned back to the tourist, shaking her head. “Who?”

  “Morgan Macpherson. The vice president of the United States?”

  She turned back to the window. “Oh, shit.”

  Macpherson raised his brows, and Armando said, “The mic is on, Infinity.”

  She swallowed. She had thought she was prepared for about anything. But something was seriously wrong.

  Vice President Macpherson leaned forward in his chair. “Miss Fowler, first I’d like to say I'm sorry about the unfortunate loss of your partner.”

  Infinity snatched the paper gown Poppy had left and draped it over her chest. “But,” she said, “that’s not why you're here.”

  “No, it’s not. I addressed the other SafeTrek bridgers earlier today. But I wanted to stay here until your return so I could talk to you personally. My purpose here is to lend credibility and gravitas to what you are about to hear. President Millwright would be here herself if it were possible.”

  Infinity felt like she was in a freakish dream. “I’m listening.”

  “SafeTrek is no longer a private company. Its operation is now administered by the federal government.”

  “What? Since when?”

  Armando raised his hands. “Listen, Infinity. This is something we’re cooperating with completely.” He glanced at Macpherson. “Do you mind if I explain?”

  The vice president nodded. “By all means.”

  Armando gazed at Infinity and Desmond through the transparent barrier. He was more disheveled than usual. His hair was hardly combed, and his eyes were red, perhaps from lack of sleep. Even his bow tie was missing. And he had that same strained look Infinity had seen on Poppy’s face. He cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. “A lot has happened in the last thirty-six hours. I understand you were told before bridging yesterday that the Allen Telescope Array had picked up another radio signal, from a second alien civilization.”

  Desmond said, “We were told about the new signal, but it was uncertain whether the signal was from a second civilization.”

  “That is no longer an uncertainty,” the vice president said.

  Infinity and Desmond exchanged a glance. “What confirmed that?” he asked.

  Armando went on. “As you’ve been told, upon learning of the second signal, I immediately flew to Mountain View to join the discussions at the SETI Institute. Obviously I have a vested interest in the implications. I thought I might participate in sorting out the transmitted information. Since this signal used the same formatting protocols as the first, the content had already been revealed by the time I arrived. The source is slightly under 42 degrees of arc from the Outlanders, from our perspective. Preliminary estimates suggest the source could be as far as 3,000 parsecs from the Outlander source—almost 10,000 light years.”

  Infinity was getting tired of all this beating around the bush. “Maybe you could just tell us what the hell’s going on.”

  Armando frowned. But then he nodded. “The signal came from a source far from that of the original signal, but that’s not how we know it’s from a different civilization. Listen carefully, kiddo.”

  Infinity blinked at him. He had never called her that in front of a tourist. She gritted her teeth and nodded.

  “We know it’s from a different civilization because it contains a warning.”

  Desmond said it first—“A warning?”

  “Apparently we aren’t the only civilization to receive and decode the Outlander signal. At some point in the past, this second civilization received it as well. And they constructed bridging devices, just as we have done. Soon after starting to use the devices, they began observing unusual weather events. And their planet’s surface became unstable.”

  Infinity glanced at Desmond. His face was pale.

  The vice president said, “We now believe that we understand what is happening to our own planet.”

  “And what is that?” Infinity asked.

  “The bridging devices,” Armando said. “Each time they are used, they create a handful of some kind of particle we have never encountered before. Previously, we had no way to detect these particles. We suspect the second alien civilization was more technologically advanced than we are, but the signal they transmitted made it clear they did not fully understand the process whereby the particles were being created. But what they did understand is more than enough. The content of their signal is detailed and very convincing.”

  Armando paused, and a lump began forming in Infinity’s throat. She sensed everything was about to change—and not in a good way. Armando was looking at her like a father would look at a daughter before explaining he was dying of cancer.

  “The second signal described the particles generated by the bridging device as having two properties. First, they consume every other particle they touch. More accurately, every particle they touch disappears. In the same way your hair disappears when you bridge. No idea where it goes—probably to another universe. The second property is that the particles are heavy. Once they’re created, they immediately begin falling to the planet’s center of gravity. Every particle in their path disappears. They pass through the planet’s core and continue on until gravity pulls them back to the core again. The result is that all of these new particles gradually accumulate at the earth’s center.”

  “And there they sit, eating away at the core,” Desmond added. “As the core becomes smaller, the earth’s crust is destabilized.”

  Armando nodded. “Earthquakes, extreme weather events, disruption of the magnetosphere. Which is why we’re seeing auroras over Missouri.”

  Infinity was beginning to understand what the tourist had apparently already figured out. “You’re saying this is going to get worse?”

  Armando nodded again. “The second alien civilization was convinced their planet’s complete destruction was inevitable. They constructed a transmitter for their signal on a craft in orbit around their dying planet. We assume that eventually the craft was released from the diminishing gravitational pull as their planet was reduced to nothing. Then it probably drifted off through space, still transmit
ting its signal.”

  Several seconds of silence followed.

  “So the second signal was sent out as a warning,” Desmond said.

  “Yes,” Armando replied. “Likely with the hope that other civilizations would discover the warning before discovering the original signal, and would avoid creating and using the bridging devices. Unfortunately, we discovered the original signal first.”

  Desmond grabbed the concealment barrier with both his hands. “It doesn’t make sense! Why would an intelligent civilization send out blueprints for a technology that destroys planets?”

  “It makes perfect sense,” Infinity said. “It’s a Trojan horse. A weapon. Or more accurately, a deadly lure. I know you people want to believe alien civilizations are naturally friendly, but there is no strategic advantage to being friendly. And there’s definitely no advantage to giving away critical technology. You know what does give a civilization strategic advantage? Destroying every other civilization that could someday become a threat. And what makes even more sense is to develop an inexpensive, efficient way to do that. A way that allows you to sit back on your ass as every developing civilization close enough to become a threat receives your radio signal and eagerly destroys itself. The signal is a lure. And those bastards knew no one could resist the lure of infinite universes.”

  Again several seconds of silence followed.

  Desmond released the barrier and leaned back. “Is it too late to stop the process?”

  The vice president said, “We have no idea, but we have to assume it is.”

  “How much time do we have?” Infinity asked.