Overture (Earth Song) (12 page)

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.”