Quagmire's Gate

by Allan E Petersen

  Whelan looked to Lynda and changed his mind about the Professor.

  “So, he is crazy then.”

  Because she thought she understood the fundamentals of what the Professor had said, she defended him.

  “No. Part of what he is claiming makes sense. The tone of the bell, the anti-matter and the hole might be a connection to another dimension.”

  Suddenly Whelan went blank and started to nod. It prompted Lynda to demand,

  “What?”

  Whelan was struggling with fragmented thoughts thinking aloud. He slowly uttered,

  “A passage to another place. The Gate to the Under. That is what the General kept ranting about on the Flash Drive the secretary had brought to the meeting to prove the General’s madness. He wanted to open a gate to some place called the Under. That is why he shut the lab down. General Irsthill’s secret agenda here at the facility is to open the barriers between the dimensions. He thinks that is what is happening down in the lab. A temporal rift has opened a barrier of some kind to this place he is trying to get to. Experimenting with the ship’s dimensional properties has opened this gate.”

  Stunned, Lynda interjected,

  “But it’s not some fanciful craft that crosses into some other dimension. It’s a space craft for goodness sake.”

  Whelan was going to correct her but Quagmire was faster.

  “No. If you mean spacecraft in the sense that it travels the voids of space to get from planet to planet then you are wrong. It is not an interstellar spacecraft at all, although I can certainly see how your limited reasoning clings to that belief. That is why you could not solve the propulsion enigma. It has no fuel supply. It’s a vehicle designed to cross over dimensional barriers. From the sounds of it, your General knew this. He obviously has reasons for wanting to transport to another dimension.”

  Thanks to Secretary Crammer’s recordings heard at the ASC meeting, Whelan now understood. The General’s crazed mind wanted to release some sort of army to attack some fanciful place called the world of the upper. There was no doubt in Whelan’s mind that the General had lost his mind. He decided to keep the state of the General’s mind to himself. However, another state of mind now greatly concerned him. Peeling his eyes off Quagmire he looked again to Lynda and asked,

  “Are you sure he’s not crazy?”

  She was quick to respond.

  “Like a fox.”

  Accepting the cryptic reply, he said,

  “Well, it will all come to light soon enough. The ASC and the boys over at Fort Lincoln are on their way right now with a platoon of highly trained army troops to take over the whole compound.”

  When Quagmire first saw the convoy from the helicopter, he feared that they might beat him to the bell. With that fear now confirmed, he began to tremble visibly. He blurted out,

  “But they can’t shut the lab down. They have no idea what is really happening down there. If it was just sealed and left to its own accord the leaked anti-matter would only get worse.”

  Whelan asked,

  “What the hell is he talking about?”

  Lynda took the helm and said,

  “I’m not sure but I think he’s the only one who can stop whatever is going on down there. I agree with him, if Fort Lincoln gets here first and takes over security, we will never have a chance to shut the anti-matter down.”

  Whelan’s frustration blurted out.

  “But what’s the urgency? Why does it have to be shut down right now?”

  Quagmire struggled to remain calm and explained,

  “Because your scientists tried to replicate a propulsion system that is not even in the ship, you have somehow stumbled onto a way to destroy this whole planet. The ship is from an anti-matter dimension modified to survive in our world of positive matter. You have somehow managed to turn off a system that balances or buffers that anti-matter from reacting with our positive matter. The protective shielding was probably a dense graviton field. Our positive matter is now eating away at that shielding or more to the point the released anti-matter is eating away at our world, molecule by molecule. You saw what happened to the poor scientist’s hand. That is what is going to happen to this world unless we can turn it off.”

  Lynda saw that Whelan was having trouble processing it all. In the last few days he had seen things his conventional mind could not grasp. If what happened to Professor Hatcher and his security officer could escalate and happen to the world then yes, he agreed there might be some urgency. He admitted,

  “Fine, whatever the hell you said. However, there is no way to get down there. Like I said The General has erased all the entry codes.”

  Quagmire asked,

  “Then how does the General get around down there? Surely his codes are still active.”

  “Of course but he has a ‘Priority One’ code. It’s different than the Apple Jack.”

  Suddenly Whelan stopped talking and seemed to fade into deep thought. He suddenly pointed to Lynda and snapped,

  “Your Apple Jack security card, where is it?”

  “Around my neck, why?”

  “Because when the General ordered me to get you a top level Apple Jack clearance as quickly as possible I was forced to improvise. It takes two to three days for ASC to approve an Apple Jack clearance. There was no time so I copied his Priority One code and transferred it to yours, labeling it Apple Jack. In effect, your security code is the same as his, a Priority One clearance. It was my intention to change it when you came back but then all this happened. He obviously deleted Apple Jack but not his own code.”

  He then pointed a finger at her and proudly announced,

  “You my dear, have a copy of the General’s security clearances.”

  Pleased to hear it, she was more pleased to hear that she was referred to as, ‘my dear’. Quagmire perked up and blurted out,

  “All right, let’s get going then. The army can’t be too far from the front gate by now.”

  Whelan fell into the circle of excitement and snapped,

  “Let’s give it a shot.”

  It was then that Lynda cast a concerned eye to Whelan’s appearance. His clothes were practically torn off. Noticing the stare and its direction, he too looked down and saw that he was not fit to go anywhere, at least not without being noticed. Lynda stated the obvious,

  “Maybe we should wait for Raymond to get back with your clothes.”

  He reluctantly agreed. It was in her nature, something she could not resist. With a smirk, she added,

  “When he comes back, I’ll help you get dressed.”

  They did not have to wait long. Just as Whelan’s face was losing its red complexion at the tease, the door opened. Raymond was carrying a bundle of clothes and seemed proud to announce,

  “I did good. Nobody paid any attention to me.”

  It was a struggle but with only a few moans and groans, Whelan managed to dress himself and Lynda pretended not to watch. When ready to go, Raymond produced a surprise and said,

  “I found this in your sock drawer.”

  It was Whelan’s handgun.

  Before leaving the apartment, they huddled to make plans. The more they talked and the riskier it sounded, the more Raymond grew uneasy. Lynda noticed his anxiety and took it to heart. Accepting that not everybody needed to come along, she turned to the trembling man and said,

  “You know Raymond, all four of us can’t go down to the lab. There are too many of us. We need somebody to find Whelan’s partner, Joseph Mann and tell him what we are planning to do. Do you mind terrible if I ask you to stay behind and look for him?”

  There was no way he could hide his relief. He sadly admitted,

  “I’m not as brave as you.”

  “Yes you are. You are just brave in other ways.”

  At the elevator silo, Professor Quagmire grew very edgy. Fearing that the invading forces could appear and stop them, he snapped his attention in all directions. So far, his unease was unfounded. Most of the people on the surf
ace seemed to be aimlessly milling about. The fact that three people were standing by the elevator shed did not seem strange to anybody.

  Like an addicted shopper waiting for a two-for-one sale to start, Lynda eagerly had her card out and ready to swipe. For some reason Whelan did not trust her to swipe it. Taking it from her, he gently rubbed the magnetic band across his shirtsleeve and said,

  “We don’t want dust particles confusing the codes now do we?”

  All eyes were on the card as he slid it through the slot. When the red light turned Green, three people suddenly started breathing again. He said,

  “It’s on its way up.”

  As they waited, Quagmire continued his vigilant roll of scouting the crowd for trouble. Pointing up and in a panic, he yelled,

  “What’s that? Who’s coming?”

  Lynda and Whelan looked up and quickly located the cause for his concern.

  They were too far away to be heard but there was no doubt they were helicopters and bearing down fast. Lynda said,

  “That’s got to be the ASC bringing in the air force.”

  Whelan was not so sure and voiced his concern.

  “No, the ASC is bringing in ground forces. There is no ASC coming by helicopter.”

  Confused, Lynda asked,

  “Then who is that?”

  Although Whalen thought he might know, he was not prepared to add any more craziness to this already insane venture. He lied,

  “I don’t know.”

  Before there could be any more discussion, the silo doors opened and they quickly entered.

  Chapter 26

  Captain W.T. Biggs

  Two miles from the objective, the convoy from Fort Lincoln was forced to stop and change a flat tire. Captain W.T. Biggs was standing on the hood of a transport truck observing three helicopters appearing over the mountains and bearing down on Deep Lab 6. He was puzzled at the scattered formation. Because it was not a military fly pattern, he put his binoculars down and snapped at his Communication Officer.

  “Deep Lab 6 is under quarantine and designated a no fly zone. What the hell are those three choppers up to?”

  If the Communication Officer was supposed to have an answer, he did not. All he could do was shrug his shoulders. The Commander barked again,

  “Get them on the radio and demand they identify themselves.”

  After a few moments the Communication Officer reported,

  “There is no response Sir. They are flying under blackout, neither receiving nor sending.”

  With his binoculars pressed to his eyes he asked,

  “Could they be ours?”

  “No Sir. By regulation, they must transmit ID codes. If this was a war zone, I would classify them as the enemy.”

  Putting down his binoculars, he slid off the hood of the truck and motioned for the phone. He swiped his ID card through the slot and waited for the dial tones to stop. It was answered in one ring. Because of the input code, the person on the other end knew who it was and demanded,

  “Captain Biggs, is there a problem already?”

  “No Major Dickerson, at least not yet. Have you authorized any choppers to approach Deep Lab 6 without informing me?”

  “Don’t be an ass Biggs this is a top level capture, you have all the clearance codes and procedures at hand. Consider any resistance to that order as a hostile action and respond accordingly. Nothing must stop you from capturing the lab. You are authorized to use extreme prejudice. Do I make myself clear?”

  Handing back the phone he summoned his Second in Command. After a dutiful snap-to and salute Biggs asked him,

  “Do I have anything in my arsenal that can neutralize those three choppers?”

  The Weapons Officer squinted at them, shook his head and admitted,

  “No Sir, not at this distance.”

  “Well why not man! Are you my Weapons Officer or not?”

  “Yes Sir but there was no talk of an air strike at the Intel Meeting. This is supposed to be a ground to underground recovery not a surface to air strike.”

  Captain W.T. Biggs cast his infamous and always demeaning evil eye at his subordinate. Insubordination came to mind, as did failure. Looking back up at the dots, he asked,

  “ETA to target?”

  “If they are indeed heading for Deep Lab 6, I’d say three to five minutes.”

  “Of course they are. Look at the trajectory. By how much will they beat us there?”

  “We’re still ten minutes out Sir. They’ll have at least five minutes on us.”

  Snapping his binoculars into the man’s chest, he ordered,

  “Double time soldier.”

  Chapter 27

  Gathering of the World of the Under

  All three choppers ignored the approach procedures and touched down next to the elevator silo at the same time. There was no attempt to get near the landing pad. Upon seeing the three helicopters and thinking they were part of the evacuation, a crowd of people ran across the field toward them.

  The Military CT7 was the first to slide its doors open. Wearing a brown robe with a large hood flipped back was Senator Watson. After a careful scrutiny of the grounds, he signaled for another person to come out, also clad in a brown robe. The figure slowly and somewhat awkwardly emerged indicating inexperience in exiting helicopters. As the figure stumbled, the hood almost came off but the Senator was quick to secure it back over the head. The Senator then sternly pointed to the elevator doors. The head lowered and with a rather servile shuffle he went there and waited.

  The door of the other chopper opened and Congressman Tait struggled to the ground. He too wore a brown robe with the hood flung back and flapping in the turbulence. He found it awkward controlling the robe as it swirled around him. He quickly hunched down and hurried toward Senator Watson. There was a casual greeting, more of a nod. The Congressman looked to the hooded figure at the elevator silo and then to the Senator. The Senator answered the unspoken question.

  “No problem.”

  They then looked toward the last chopper and waited. The side doors slid open and three metal steps automatically deployed to the sand. The first person out was dressed in the same manner, hood up and head held low. Senator Watson took the person by the arm and indicated to go and stand by the other person at the elevator silo. There was compliance. The rotors played havoc with that robe as well, tossing it about like a sail. It was clear that whoever it was had their hands tied at the back.

  After an ‘all clear’ signal from Senator Watson another brown robed figure emerged with hood pulled over the head. However, this time the whirling wind managed to capture it, pulling it off. It was Governor Sheltie. His young handsome features were in sharp contrast to their malevolent intent. For the first time in his life, he chose to hide his features by pulling the hood back over his head.

  With all five people at the silo door, the Senator was about to swipe his card into the security slot when he heard a voice behind them.

  “Excuse me Sir but the lab has been quarantined. There is no entry allowed.”

  Annoyed at the intrusion, the Senator turned and scowled at the intruder. It was Joseph Mann standing tall and firm. The others quickly adjusted their hoods better hiding their identity from the intruder. The Senator sneered,

  “And just who might you be?”

  He snapped to attention and blurted out,

  “Second in Command of Compound Security Deep Lab 6, Joseph Mann.”

  He then added,

  “There shall be no unauthorized entry into quarantined areas without proper authority from Chief Security Officer Whelan Christianson or Major Dickerson at Fort Lincoln.”

  Senator Watson smiled that well trained politician’s smile and said,

  “I’m sorry. I should have understood you are only doing your job. I have those orders right here.”

  As the Senator fumbled in his robe searching for the orders, Joseph took a harder look at the group. It was the first time he noticed it and asked the S
enator,