Transport 3_The Zone

by Phillip P. Peterson

  Morrow pointed a finger at the physicist as if he wanted to stab him with it. “Then your guys will have to work overtime for once. I expect the resonator to be finished by tomorrow.”

  Dr. Hope opened his mouth to answer, but immediately shut it again. He pursed his lips, stood up and stomped between the computer consoles back to the exit.

  When the door had closed behind the physicist, Russell turned to the general. “What are you planning?”

  “Just wait and see, Harris. You’ll be surprised.”

  “It’ll ruin everything,” Russell said.

  Marlene nodded. “We have to get him back to New California.”

  Straight after the briefing, Russell had returned to the rec room where they were allowed to spend their free hours, and had asked Marlene——who had been absorbed in conversation with Albert——if he could speak with her. Although she had watched the mission from the control room, she had not been invited to the follow-up discussion. In Marlene’s room, Russell told her about the results and about his conversation with Lee.

  “If he does what he says, they’ll lock him up and convict him of murder at best. And if we’re unlucky, our deal with Morrow will go bust,” she said.

  “What should we tell the general?”

  Marlene shrugged. “You know him better than I do. Could we tell him the truth?”

  Russell thought for a moment, then shook his head slowly.

  “Better not. I wouldn’t put it past him to throw Lee straight into a cell. We need to make up a reason.”

  “We could say he’s mentally unstable and that we want to exchange him for someone else.”

  “But then the general would ask why we’re only telling him now, after Lee’s already been on a mission which ran smoothly.”

  “You’re right. That won’t work.”

  They carried on thinking, came up with suggestions, but rejected them one by one. Finally Russell had an idea. “We can’t tell Morrow the truth,” he pondered aloud.

  “You already said that,” Marlene responded.

  “But perhaps we could tell Dr. Payne. She would then write him off as unfit for missions and we’ll send him back home.”

  Marlene frowned. “Are you sure she’ll go along with it?”

  Russell tipped his head to one side. “I can’t say for sure, but I am sure that she won’t tell Morrow. For one thing, she’s bound by medical confidentiality, and for another, she doesn’t seem to like the general too much.”

  “Alright. We should try to talk to her first thing tomorrow.”

  Another almost sleepless night had come and gone. As Russell now knew, a day on Venus lasted a hundred-and-seventeen Earth days. Only once in this time did the sun rise and set, although they wouldn’t have seen it anyway in their underground compound.

  This was why, he discovered from Dr. Hope, the clocks were set to UTC on Earth, which also regulated working hours and hours of rest.

  Morrow had let Russell keep the wristwatch he had been given for the previous day’s mission, so he knew it was still early in the “morning” when the guards came to collect him and the other volunteers and brought him to the transporter lab without any breakfast. Morrow, Mitchell, and Hope were already waiting in front of a group of tables piled with pieces of equipment. They were still engrossed in a conversation. Dr. Hope kept pointing at a box, which looked very similar to the recording device from the last mission.

  “It’ll be the first time the resonator is used,” the physicist bristled.

  “I don’t care. I want to know if it works!” the general responded sternly.

  “The tests in the lab were successful, but we’ll only know if communication across countless light years works once we’ve tried it out. We should consider first testing it on a destination which isn’t endangered.”

  “Unfortunately we don’t have any time for that!”

  “May I ask what you’re planning and what this box is all about?” Marlene butted in.

  Morrow nodded at Dr. Hope.

  “We call it a spin resonator. It’s our first attempt at producing something using the alien’s transporter technology,” the scientist explained.

  “It will enable us to maintain contact with the mission team,” Morrow added. “We’ll test it today.”

  Russell raised his eyebrows. “Are you trying to say you can make contact with another planet with that thing? Radio contact with superluminal velocity?”

  “The underlying principle has nothing to do with radio waves. Communication is via wormholes, similar to the way the transporters communicate. In the resonator, there’s a small, sub-microscopic wormhole which establishes a connection with an equivalent device in the control room,” Dr. Hope explained.

  Russell could hardly believe what he was hearing. Clearly they had made more progress with the alien technology than he had thought. “You’re able to create wormholes yourselves?” That was precisely what he had wanted to prevent by destroying the transporter on Earth.

  “Yes, and it wasn’t even that hard. In fact, scientists working on particle accelerators like CERN had created wormholes on Earth before we even discovered the transporter. We just didn’t know it.”

  “But how ...? began Chris Holbrook, who had kept himself in the background up to now. Ernie Lawrence was standing next to him and didn’t give the impression of having understood what the physicist had told them.

  Dr. Hope started speaking again before Chris could finish asking his question. “In a particle collision in an accelerator, entangled particles are created in certain conditions. These are called solitons——virtual particles that remain connected to one another via a wormhole tunnel.”

  The physicist could hardly keep the excitement out of his voice. Russell was reminded uneasily of Dr. Gilbert, who hadn’t flinched at sacrificing human lives in order to make new discoveries about the aliens’ technology. Russell could only hope that Hope wasn’t willing to go that far.

  “These wormholes are of course too small to use for the transportation of people and materials,” Morrow said.

  “But they are suitable for the transmission of communication signals,” Hope added.

  “At least they’re big enough to let radio waves through. That should be enough for us today,” Morrow said.

  “That’s not true!” protested Hope. “I told you already: the wormhole mouth the size of a proton is too small for the wavelength of radio signals.” He turned to Russell. “The electromagnetic signals cause the opening of the wormhole to resonate. As a result of the entanglement, the wormhole mouth on our side also starts to resonate, und we use this to transmit the voice communication. That’s why we call the device a spin resonator.”

  Russell only understood half of what the scientist was telling him. Hopefully it was the same for Morrow. “You’re quibbling!” He brought the discussion to a halt with a wave of a hand. “And we don’t have time to go into more detail. I just hope the device works.”

  “So, what’s the plan for today’s mission?” asked Marlene.

  “In principle, the same as yesterday’s,” Dr. Hope said. “With the exception that the values will be transmitted by the new device right up to the point where contact is broken off. Perhaps even beyond it, since we now have our own wormhole connection. Two people will go to the destination and position the measuring devices there. Then they will come straight back and we’ll see what happens next from the control room.”

  “Drop off the devices and come back? That’s it?” Marlene asked.

  “That’s it,” Morrow confirmed. “The destination planet has been classified as safe by our scientists. It appears to be similar to New California: grassland with forests on the horizon. But we haven’t seen any animals.”

  Russell was a little surprised at the general. Yesterday’s mission hadn’t been particularly dangerous and the one today sounded like it would be even easier. Why did he need volunteers from New California? Russell had presumed Morrow would use his own specialists fo
r outings like this and save up the New Californians for the high-risk missions. Was there something else Morrow hadn’t told them about? Did he foresee dangers they didn’t know about?

  “Who should go?” Russell asked.

  “One of you and one of my own men, who I’ve conscripted.”

  “Conscripted?” Marlene asked.

  “Let’s just say it’s somebody who disobeyed orders and who can rehabilitate himself by taking part in punitive expeditions. Here he comes. You know him already.”

  Major Palmer came stomping down the steps of the transporter lab. He was wearing a mottled green combat uniform and had a sourly expression on his face. Up to now, Russell had had nothing to do with the major, but of course Marlene had told him about what had had happened on New California. Russell looked over to Lee, who was balling his hands to fists. He was clearly struggling not to lash out at Palmer.

  “I want to file a complaint,” Palmer said as he reached the group.

  “Duly noted,” the general responded curtly.

  “I have done nothing wrong,” the major insisted.

  “You used your exclusive rights of access to steal luxury food items from the storage depot and hide them in your room.”

  “It was no more than my rightful share.”

  The general laughed hoarsely. “You are not entitled to any share. You may only access the alcohol supplies with my permission. You know that.”

  “But I’m not the only one who helped themselves. You know who I mean.”

  Morrow nodded. “In contrast to Dr. Payne, you made the stupid mistake of being caught in the act. You can imagine the discipline problems it will lead to if I turn a blind eye.”

  “And so I’m going to be sent off in the transporter as a guinea pig?”

  Morrow narrowed his eyes. “I will not discuss this any further. You still have a choice: the punitive mission or a cell. The latter for a long time.”

  Palmer folded his arms across his chest and pursed his lips.

  Morrow turned back to Marlene. “I’ll leave it to you to decide who will accompany him.”

  As Russell had guessed, Lee immediately stepped forward. “I would like to volunteer.”

  “Good!” the general replied right away.

  Russell looked at Marlene in alarm. She immediately turned to Morrow. “I would like to speak to you.”

  The general shook his head. “There’s no time. Dr. Hope, prepare the two men for their mission.” He turned to the armed soldiers at his side. “Accompany the others to the control room. I need to send a report to Earth, but I will be back for the start of the mission.”

  “General, I ...” Marlene didn’t finish her sentence, because Morrow had already disappeared in the direction of the control room.

  Russell tried to take Lee aside and talk him out of this nonsense, but Dr. Hope was already leading him and Major Palmer over to the table with the equipment.

  “Fuck. What do we do now?” Russell whispered, as the soldiers hustled him and the others to the control room.

  Marlene shook her head.

  Russell was annoyed they hadn’t gone to see Dr. Payne earlier in the day or the day before, but neither he nor Marlene had seen her. What was Lee planning to do now? Did he really want to kill the major on the mission? When they reached the door to the control room, Russell turned around and saw Dr. Hope handing Palmer and Lee a pistol each. The major didn’t even know he was going on a journey with a man who hated him from the bottom of his heart.

  Russell didn’t understand Morrow. The general ought to know that Palmer had made enemies on New California with his behavior. But Morrow hadn’t been there. Probably he underestimated how Palmer had behaved in the colony.

  “We have to stop him!” Russell said to Marlene as they sat down in the control room. Through the window all they could see was the transporter. The men must be inside it already.

  “How?” Marlene asked quietly. “The general has disappeared. It’s too late. We can only hope Lee doesn’t carry out his plan.”

  “I have a bad feeling.”

  Marlene turned to John Mitchell, who was sitting in front of her at his console. “I need to speak to the general. Please don’t start the mission before I have spoken to Morrow.”

  “Too late,” Mitchell said, without turning around. “The transport has already started.”

  Through the window, Russell saw Dr. Hope leaving the sphere and hurrying over to the control room. At the same moment, Morrow entered the room.

  Marlene hurried over to him. “Abandon the mission. Bring the men straight back.”

  The general looked at her mistrustfully. “And why should I do that?”

  Marlene searched for words. “We think that Lee is mentally unstable. He might endanger the mission.”

  Morrow snorted. “And you tell me that now?”

  “The problem only became apparent yesterday.”

  Dr. Hope had reached the group and sat down next to Mitchell at the console. “They’ve left the transporter. We’re trying to make contact via the resonator. Both men have a headset. We should be able to speak to them.”

  “Too late,” Morrow said drily to Marlene. “I only hope your man doesn’t lose his nerve.”

  “Major Palmer, Mr. Shanker, please come in!” Mitchell spoke into the microphone.

  “Palmer here. We’ve left the transporter.” His voice was slightly fuzzy but clear to hear.

  “It works! The resonator is transmitting the radio signals via its own wormhole!” Dr. Hope grinned.

  Mitchell pointed at the screen. “The data transmission is working too. Those are the parameters of the transporter on the destination planet.”

  “How much more time do the men have until the expected break of contact?” Marlene asked.

  “About a quarter of an hour.”

  “We’re setting up the camera now,” Major Palmer said. A few seconds later another screen flickered to life. Russell pulled himself closer to the console. In the middle of the screen he could see the transporter. It was lying in the middle of an expanse of grassland. Only on the horizon were there trees to be seen under a dark-blue sky. Lee popped up at the edge of the screen.

  “Can you see me?” Russell could hear his voice over the loudspeaker.

  “Yes, the transmission is perfect. We’re also receiving the data.”

  “Good!” Lee said. Russell’s eyes fell on the pistol, which was stuck in the engineer’s holster. Then Lee disappeared from view.

  Please, please, don’t do anything dumb, Lee!

  Russell could almost feel the engineer sneaking up on the unsuspecting major from behind, weapon drawn. Any moment now they would hear a shot. Russell closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable.

  But then the situation took an unexpected turn.

  “I don’t feel so good,” Palmer said. His voice was hoarse.

  Morrow stepped up to the console and leaned over the microphone.

  “Please repeat!”

  “My lungs are burning. It’s getting worse and worse.”

  Lee also began to groan loudly. “I can hardly breathe. Jesus! My eyes! My eyes!” he screamed.

  What the hell is happening? Russell looked at the screen, but could only see the black transporter. The men were behind the camera.

  “Major Palmer! Mr. Shanker! Turn back. Immediately!” Morrow said loudly.

  Both men were screaming.

  “Palmer! What’s going on? Speak, goddammit!”

  The major’s voice turned into a death rattle. Lee continued to scream into his microphone. Mitchell turned down the volume on the console, his hands quivering.

  Suddenly, something was moving on the screen. A man was crawling on all fours toward the transporter. Russell could tell it was Lee from the red hair. The engineer’s screams were weaker, and finally he collapsed before he was even close to the transporter.

  “What’s up with him, for Christ’s sake?” Morrow asked Dr. Hope. The scientist just shook his head
slowly without turning around.

  Lee was lying in convulsions on the ground. He turned around slowly and then Russell saw his face.

  Jesus Christ!

  Lee’s face had shrunk, it was almost mummified. And his eyes had disappeared! He opened his mouth to say something, but the only sound that came out was a rattling noise. Blood ran out of his mouth, his lips and tongue were colored black.

  “Oh my God!” Marlene whispered.

  Russell couldn’t take his eyes off the screen. Lee’s death throes seemed to be dragging on forever. And there’s nothing we can do!

  Finally, with a trembling hand, Lee pulled the pistol out of the holster. Russell shuddered. How bad must it be if suicide was the only solution? But the weapon fell out of Lee’s hand. He felt around for it but couldn’t get a grip.

  Russell knew this image would accompany him to the end of his life. He was about to look away, but then Lee slumped down completely and was dead.

  “What happened? What on Earth could have happened?” Chris Holbrook broke the silence. He was white as a sheet.

  “Didn’t you say the planet was safe?” Morrow asked Mitchell, who was sitting in front of him. His voice sounded angry more than shocked.

  Mitchell turned around on his swivel chair. His face was pale. “I checked all the parameters. Temperature, radiation, chemical composition of the atmosphere ... I don’t get it.”

  Russell was reminded of O’Brien’s transport all those years ago in Nevada. The prisoner had been transported to a planet with an atmosphere of sulfuric acid, and had only been able to initiate the return transport in the nick of time. But it had been too late, and when he stepped out of the transporter he had dissolved in front of their eyes. But today everything had looked unproblematic!

  “We’ll deal with this later,” Dr. Hope said, trying hard to keep the emotion out of his voice. “Now we need to concentrate on the data transmission. Contact with the planet will break off in two minutes. Mitchell, check the interface.”

  Mitchell turned back to his console. “Everything OK here. I’m receiving the parameters from the planet’s transporter. The spin resonator is working perfectly.”