Project Brimstone

by Paul B Spence

  He deflected the cyborg's next thrust and kicked it hard in the right knee. It fell, and he was on it, searching with the point of a knife for a soft place to sink a blade. He dug one blade under its right arm, which disabled it, but the neck was armored. It stood up and knocked him back with a powerful left swing. He darted back in, punching up under one of the plates in the chest with his other knife. Dark blood gushed out, but it didn't slow the thing. It was swinging wildly at him now. He tore the knife from under its arm and got behind it, flipping it across his body. He crouched on top of it and rammed the knife up under its chin until the point scraped the plate in the top of it skull; then he twisted the knife viciously.

  The cyborg twitched and spasmed, but it was finally dead. Again. For how long, he didn't know.

  He crawled out of the crater and retrieved his rifle and flashlight. He then went back and investigated the device on the cyborg's left arm. The device did look like the one Dixon had shown him. If Dixon was right, it was a portable version of the portal device. Harrison dropped to his knees to pry the device from the thing's arm.

  The cyborg had been human once, a woman. It was mostly machine now. He wondered if they had voluntarily done that to themselves. He had a sinking feeling he knew what they were raiding the other guys for. Parts is parts, he thought. It almost made him feel sorry for his old enemies. Almost.

  The device on the cyborg's left arm was intact and looked undamaged. The display on the device read nine two zero. He had no idea what number to type to get home. Harrison shrugged. Any place was better than where he was. He could see two of the other wounded cyborgs getting up. He changed the code to nine zero zero and pressed the execute button, hoping the label was metaphorical. Then came a bright flash, and he fell through a hole in the world.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  After what seemed as if only a second had passed, reality reasserted itself forcefully.

  Harrison lost his footing and fell to one knee. Early morning light filtered through the trees, and a gentle wind brought him the scent of pines. It was calm and peaceful here, with only a few bird and insect noises to break the silence.

  It reminded him of his childhood home, and indeed, the landscape did look familiar. Low, tired-looking mountains loomed from the east, casting long shadows. A hawk cried out overhead. The air was clean and humid, without a trace of pollution. He wondered if man had ever been alive on this world.

  "Guess that wasn't the right code," he muttered to himself. "Now what?"

  The pain in his arm and leg made his next move clear. It looked as if he was safe enough for the moment. He stripped and bathed in the nearby stream, not worried about microbes thanks to the nano-bots in his system. The gunshot to his arm was minor, just a graze. His leg was worse, but the bullet had passed through the muscle without hitting the bone or an artery. He'd gotten lucky.

  He bound his wounds and took a painkiller. He'd have to careful with those, but he needed to keep moving. He dressed and then reloaded his weapons, and he stripped the weird flag and insignia from his uniform. It hadn't worked anyway, and he didn't need to be shot by his own people.

  "Okay, so nine two zero was the cyborg battlefield, and nine zero zero is this nice calm place. How about nine one zero?" He made a note of it his notebook, then reprogrammed the device and pressed the button.

  Another bright flash and period of darkness.

  People were shouting as he appeared, and a bullet glanced off the wall next to his head. Harrison stood in the middle of some kind of military complex. Soldiers in digital camouflage were running toward him. He could see a mushroom cloud in the distance. He knew what that meant.

  Time to go.

  He quickly set the device to nine one one. That ought to be close to home.

  There was a flash, and he was standing in the same place.

  "Oh, shit!" He turned and dove around the corner as two more soldiers opened fire.

  The device read the same number, so he set it two higher and tried again.

  Same result.

  "Freeze! Hands on your head!"

  Harrison turned slowly to face the speaker. His hand was still on the device, and he set the numbers blindly, trying not to move much.

  "I said hands on your head!"

  "Sorry," Harrison replied. "Got to go."

  He trigger the jump, hoping for home.

  He arrived, shaking, back in the room at Jellico Mountain. He let out the breath he'd been holding. Then he realized there was something wrong about the room. He couldn't quite figure out what it was, but it was there. He also wondered at the lack of armed guards.

  "Major!"

  Harrison turned and faced Dr. Dixon. The scientist was holding a clipboard in his hand and frowning.

  "Why are you back so soon?"

  Something about his voice was different, a slight accent Harrison had never heard before. The room didn't seem to be lighted quite the way he remembered, either.

  "Ah, I'm sorry. I think I may have made a mistake." Harrison tapped the display on the device on his arm; it read nine one three.

  Dixon's frown deepened. "I don't understand. What kind of mistake?"

  "Listen, Dr. Dixon, try not to get excited, but I don't think I'm your Major Harrison."

  "Oh! Well, that explains why you didn't quite look right to me. I was sure you'd been wearing camouflage when you left. I assume you're not here to raid?"

  "What? No! I'm lost, just trying to get home. This is really strange."

  "Indeed. Well, maybe I can help. What are the last three digits of your base code?"

  Harrison hesitated.

  "I can't help you if you don't trust me."

  "Sorry. I really don't know what you're asking."

  "You're using the cyborg portal device?"

  "Yes." Harrison held up his arm.

  "I didn't give you your base code?" Dixon asked. "I mean, the other me?"

  "Ah, no."

  "I wouldn't have sent you out without the base code."

  "I didn't have this device when I left home. I left via the original portal device. I just acquired this one from a cyborg that didn't need it anymore."

  "Oh. That makes things more difficult. What is the code on your device?"

  "Nine one three," Harrison replied.

  Dixon frowned again. "How many digits are you using?"

  "Just the three on the display."

  "Oh, that's why. I made that mistake at first, too. You need seven digits or more for the local universe cluster. The code here is five nine one three seven seven nine."

  "What?"

  "Double-tap the display with three fingers."

  Harrison did so, and the location string expanded to seven digits. The numbers matched what the scientist had told him. "Shit."

  "Your universe must be close to this one. Use the first numbers, and only change the later ones. Just avoid nine one zero and nine two zero. The people there are not very friendly."

  "Thank you. I owe you one."

  "Good luck, major."

  Harrison set the middle three numbers to nine zero zero. That should be the meadow, he thought. Jumping at random didn't look as if it was going to do him much good. He'd start at the beginning and work his way home. He was going to have a lot to explain to Dr. Dixon when he got there, too. Not to mention thanking him for his other self being helpful.

  "Major."

  "Yes?"

  "You might not want to come back here again. I don't think Colonel Richardson is going to be very happy that I helped you. I don't think he'd let you leave. To lock a code out of the command sequence, just type in the code and then swipe to the right."

  "Thank you, doc. I won't press my luck." He locked out the three codes that he knew were problems and then triggered the device. He was back in the sunny meadow.

  "Okay. So far, so good."

  He stopped. The last digits on his code were not zeros. The last digit was a two.

  "Okay. So what happens if I try again?"
He changed the last digit to a zero and made another try. Bright flash and back in the same place.

  What the hell does that mean?

  He took out his notepad and jotted down the numbers he knew, since this was beginning to become complicated. The code for the place near home was five nine one three seven seven nine, so his universe had to be close to that one. He changed the last digit to an eight and pushed the button. He'd try every damn combination if he had to.

  That was only a few million combinations, right?

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Harrison arrived in the middle of a deserted city street.

  The city was quiet. Too quiet, he joked to himself. Except it wasn't really funny. There was no noise except the wind blowing mournfully past the empty cars. He thought he might still be in Florida, somewhere, if that was what they called it here. Palm trees stood along the road, although they were drooping, and the wind was far colder than any he'd felt back home so far south.

  Everywhere were signs of struggle: blood stains, broken windows on cars and houses. No bodies, though. Harrison was about to set the wrist device to the next number when he heard the faint pop of gunfire in the distance. He hesitated. He knew he should just move on, but he was curious about what had happened in this place.

  It took him twenty minutes to reach the gunfire. A mob of naked people were trying to force their way through a door. Someone on the second floor of the building was steadily shooting them. They didn't even flinch whenever one of their number went down with a bullet through them. They had a wide-eyed, feral look about them, and from the smell, they hadn't bathed in weeks.

  He didn't like the look of that mob. He' seen too many horror movies to be comfortable with the situation. He loaded a buckshot grenade and crept closer. The gunfire had ceased, and he could hear a woman cursing from inside the building. The people clawing at the door only made low animals noises. They never spoke.

  It looked as if they were going to get through the door in a matter of minutes. He had to make a choice. He knew he shouldn't get involved, leave whomever it was inside to their fate, but he couldn't. He was here, and he was capable of doing something, so he had to.

  "You're a fool, Michael," he muttered to himself.

  The creatures by the door heard him and turned, rushing down the sidewalk with an excited hooting and much growling. Whatever had happened to them, they weren't people any longer. He squeezed the trigger on the grenade launcher.

  The mass of pellets struck them full on and turned most of them into steaming piles of twitching meat. The few that weren't killed outright were wounded and screaming. They sounded like animals in a slaughterhouse.

  Only one made it through unscathed. It charged him with a total disregard for what Harrison had just done to others of its kind. He waited patiently for it to close and then smashed the stock of his rifle into its skull, stopping it in its tracks. He drew one of his suppressed pistols and put a round through its head. He did the same with the wounded ones, just in case. There was something wrong with their heads; they weren't shaped quite right.

  He approached the door cautiously.

  "You okay up there?" he called.

  "What do you want?" a woman replied, wary.

  "I was just passing through and saw you were in need."

  "You with the Jellico Mountain Complex?"

  "Yes," he answered, startled. "Under Colonel Jackson." He suddenly wondered if he'd made it back home, after all. From his own point of view, he'd only been gone a day or two, but who knew how time passed between universes? Either way, he had to find out for sure.

  "Why didn't you just say so?" She shifted the bars from the other side.

  The woman who opened the door was weary looking, dirty, and maybe in her thirties. She stepped out with a cautious glance around. She had an old bolt-action rifle, much used from the look of it. "What the hell did you hit them with?"

  Harrison raised his rifle. "You've heard of Jellico?" he asked.

  "Yeah. A small team came through here last week, distributing supplies. My name's Tilly, soldier. Thanks for the help."

  "Sure thing. My name is Harrison."

  "First or last?"

  "Last. Major Michael Harrison."

  "Can I offer you some tea, major?"

  He hesitated. "Sure. You can also tell me how things are going around here." That sounded safe enough.

  "Come on up, and bar the door behind you."

  He did, and followed her up the narrow stairs to the apartment over the door. It was squalid, with candles placed on every surface. Judging from the layers of wax, she'd been here a long time. A small wood-burning stove had been set up in the living room, the pipe going out through a hole in the wall sealed with duct tape.

  "Hand me that paper, would you?" she asked. "I'll get a fire going and put some water on."

  He picked up a newspaper from a pile near the door and glanced at it curiously before he handed it to her. The headline was about a space launch; the date was in 2017. He'd left his universe in 2015, so either he was missing a lot of time, or this wasn't his universe. He had to find out what had happened here. If it was something that was going to happen to his home, he had to know.

  "Look, I haven't been completely honest with you."

  Her rifle was aimed at his head before he'd even finished speaking.

  "You're not JMC."

  "Actually, I am. It's complicated."

  "I'm listening."

  "This is going to sound nuts."

  "Try me."

  "I'm not from this universe. At least, I don't think I am."

  She frowned but didn't say anything or waver with her rifle.

  "I'm from a project at Jellico, but it was... to explore, using a device." He showed her his wrist. "I left in twenty fifteen, and I don't think from here."

  "That's quite a story."

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Tilly kept the gun steady on him, and he was careful to keep his hands away from his weapons.

  "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to know what happened here."

  She looked confused. "What do you mean?"

  "I've been in this universe for about half an hour."

  "You're not feverish, are you? The ferals didn't bite you or something?"

  "I assure you, I'm healthy. Look, I've got my ID and other papers. I'll put down my gun, and we can talk. I didn't even realize how far from home I was until I saw the date on the paper."

  "Okay, do it slowly."

  She glanced at the ID and papers. "Those look right, but your story is so fucked up, I don't know whether to shoot you or believe you."

  "Well, I know which I'd prefer."

  She laughed and lowered her rifle. "Don't make me regret this. I have a razor blade hidden on me to discourage rapists."

  "I assure you, I just want to talk."

  She sat on the cold stove. "What do you want to know?"

  "What happened?"

  She shook her head. "You have to be telling the truth. Damn. You can't take me with you, can you?"

  "Sorry, it doesn't work like that." As far as he knew. "I don't even know how to get back home."

  "Damn. So you really don't know about the war? Or ferals? Why'd you help me, then?"

  "They looked crazy, and you seemed to need help." Harrison shrugged. "What was I supposed to do?"

  "Well, I'm glad you did. My rifle jammed. I thought I was dead for sure."

  "Tell me about the war."

  "The Five Days' War, it was called. The Jellico guys said it killed just about everybody on the planet. Some crazies unleased a virus, everybody blamed each other, and then the nukes flew. That was three years ago. Some of us were immune to the virus, or at least survived until Saint Drake got us the serum. Before that, the lucky ones died. Others turned into those things you gunned down in the street, the ferals. They aren't human anymore."

  "Serum?"

  "Some magic elixir that cures all plagues, unless the feral virus has alr
eady taken you. Then you're fucked. Shit, if you don't know about it, then you don't have it. Hold on!" She ran out of the room.

  "Here." She came back and handed him a sealed syringe with a dark yellow fluid inside.

  "What's this?"

  "The serum, stupid. You need to take that now, before the virus gets you."

  "I have a good immune system."

  "Now I know you aren't from around here." She pointed to the syringe. "This is the only thing that stops the virus. You want to become one of those things?"

  Harrison frowned and inspected the package. It was stamped with an unfamiliar logo, with the letters JMC underneath, and the words Feral Vaccine.

  "This will stop it?"

  "You've got about an hour before your mind goes, unless you take this." She sounded frightened. "Seriously. You'll turn into one of those things if you don't take it now. Either that, or go out into the street and put a bullet through your brain."

  "Are there side effects?"

  "It makes some people dizzy."

  "Why did you have this dose here?"

  "Are you nuts? In case I met someone who needed it. The soldiers gave me a dozen last week, to distribute if I met anyone who needed them. It's what we do here in the Commonwealth: we take care of each other."

  Harrison wasn't sure he wanted to risk the injection, but he wasn't sure he trusted his life to Dr. Fergusson's nano-bots, either. Why not? He unwrapped the syringe and stuck it in his leg through his fatigues. He barely even felt the small needle.

  "You had me worried there," said Tilly. "Do you want a few to take with you? In case you meet others?"

  "I'm not planning to stay here long." His head felt funny. "So this doesn't work on the ferals?"

  She shook her head. "It cures the virus, but the damage is already done. I don't really know all the details." She shrugged. "Hey, do you still want some tea? I'm sorry I can't offer you more, but I haven't been able to forage lately because of the damn ferals. I do have sugar, though."