by Alex Gore
“We are not going to make it till morning, Hans, what are you talking about? You know we’ll be attacked after the sun sets.”
The door opened abruptly and Michael and the Lieutenant rushed into the room. Babyface was almost breathless.
“Quickly! We must leave now!” He was almost stuttering, being so much in a hurry. “There are explosives everywhere.”
“Lieutenant, calm down, what are you talking about? What explosives?”
“I saw them, they are an entire network, they’ve surrounded the whole Base and can explode at any moment. We have not more than twenty minutes left.”
“Who put them, Lieutenant, did the doubles do it?”
“I rather believe Ivanov started it, looks like a fine job, but then they ‘inherited’ them and put some more. The detonators were with Ivanov the first time when the female double attacked him. They have been missing since then. They can be activated any minute now, I don’t think they’ll wait for the countdown.”
“Yes, having in mind that we kicked their asses hard”, Michael smiled.
“There is one left, Alan’s double, but he’s got the carabines with no less than two hundred bullets”, Babyface said. “If he decides to attack us, we don’t have anything to act against it.”
“My God, we are doomed!” Marcela had directed her eyes at the ceiling.
“Cover the windows with something”, the Lieutenant ordered. “Hans, help me move this cupboard to the door. People, we are barricading in and waiting, Michael, our hopes are on you now, you have to fix the truck real soon.”
“Yes, Sir, I’m going right away, you can rely on me.”
“Lieutenant, give him the last bullet”, she said.
“Now, I think he has too light a finger, and we’ll quickly be left without this weapon.” Babyface’s tone was definitive. “March is there any serum left?”
“Unfortunately, I used the last extract. I need more time for the next batch…”
“How much time?” he interrupted her.
“Two hours at least.”
“That’s too much. Anyway, get on.”
Michael lifted the bag with instruments from the floor and disappeared outside through the door.
“Come on, Hans, push harder.” The Lieutenant was moving the heavy cupboard almost by himself, while the fattish Professor seemed only to be leaning on it on the other side.
Last day, 6:41 p.m. The door behind the solid cupboard shook.
“Open up!”
“That’s Michael, move the cupboard”, Marcela said. The Lieutenant moved the metal box and opened the door to
the young man. The three of them stared at him.
“What are you gaping at me, people, my double was the first
one to be killed”, he laughed. “Your truck, ladies and gentlemen,
is ready, and is at your noble disposal.”
“Oh, Mike, you are my hero!” Marcela embraced him and
kissed his cheek and he stepped back a little embarrassed and red
in the face.
“How could you fix it?”
“Well, the tank has two sections, un upper one and a lower
one, which is narrower. The upper one was completely destroyed
by the blades, it couldn’t be sealed and would not keep any fuel.
But the lower was just a little bended by one hit and was not
punctured. I just moved the tube, sucking fuel to a lower level,
and now we have a working Rover. True, it cannot run for more
than twenty five miles here, in the desert, but if we carry petrol
and fill the tank, we can safely reach Al-Farafra oasis.” “Mike, you are a real treasure, but what can we do with Alan,
we can’t leave him.”
“Me and Hans will carry him to the back seat of the truck,
we’ll pile up around him blankets and pillows, so that he doesn’t
move too much while we’re driving. I think it is possible…” “I don’t know if he could survive a journey through the desert.
He has lost an awful lot of blood and he really needs an operation
in a hospital. Here I am helpless, I cannot do anything…” “Marcela, bandage him the best you can and calm down. You
are doing everything in your power.”
Alan seemed to turn in the bed.
“Do you think he can hear us? March, please talk quietly”,
Michael whispered.
“He can’t possibly hear, he’s still under sedation. But I’ll soon
have to wake him up for the journey. He would better have certain
reflexes preserved with all this jostling…”
Bio lab, last day 7:09 p.m. “How are you, Alan, are you very much in pain?” she asked him gently.
“Only a little”, he lied. Actually, he hurt unbearably and he was counting the seconds to the next opiate infusion.
“It will all pass, my friend”, she tried to console him in an even quieter voice. This was the first time she called him that.
Really, her voice had stronger effect on him than the drug in the IV.
Marcela was tired, exhausted with the struggle, pale with worry, devoid of sleep, disheveled and still so natural and attractive. He could look at her face forever.
“Alan, your forehead is all sweaty. Are you hot?”
“Yes, a little… I’m a bit hot.”
The Lieutenant and Hans prepared a makeshift carrier from a grid that they extracted from the floor. They put a soft blanket over it and attached some leather belts so they could carry the sounded man to the truck.
“Mike, please, bring the car as close to the door as possible”, Marcela said.
“Right. Take more blankets, it’s cold outside at night” Mike said.
A blast was heard in the distance. Then another one. Nearer. “It has begun”, the Lieutenant said. “The double is exploding the nests one after the other, in three minutes he’ll blow us in the air. We better go.”
“But we’d be an easy target there”, Hans said. A rain of bullets clattered fiercely on the dome, some of them pierced the boards that covered the windows and ricocheted on the floor.
Another explosion.
All the time nearer!
“Hans, Marcela, lie down!” Babyface shouted and pushed
Michael on the floor, covering him with his small body. At this moment from the back of the room Alan’s weak voice
was heard:
“I’ll help you solve the problem, friends.” Alan hardly spoke
the words, he hurt so much, his strength had almost expired. His
voice sounded strangely acquiescent, there was not a trace of the
true spirit of Alan.
“We cannot possibly kill him with just one shot, except if he
does not come out as an easy target. If we stay here, he’ll blow
us up, if we go out, he’ll shoot us”, Hans said, who was lying on
the floor.
“Do you believe he would be able to catch up with the Rover?”
Michael asked.
“I don’t doubt it”, Hans replied.
“I suggest we go.” Marcela was going all numb with the
thought of the creature being so near.
“Who knows if it does not prey on us even now? Don’t forget
he is armed heavily enough to wipe out us all.” The Lieutenant
was gazing out of the window.
The Lieutenant approached the wounded man’s bed. “Alan, what are you talking, for god’s sake? Save your strength for the journey and don’t speak.”
“We both know I’m not going to survive this journey but at least I can help you get out of here.” Alan reached for the Lieutenant’s belt and with a fast movement dragged out the pistol out of its holster.
“What are you doing, Alan, are you crazy?” the astonished soldier exclaimed.
“I’ll help you get rid of that freak and you wouldn’t have to carry me
.”
Alan touched the gun to his temple and shot. The bloody brain mass flew all over the place.
Outside, last day, 8:22 p.m. They stopped the engine, got out of the truck and looked at the distance behind.
Every few minutes the roaring of explosions was heard and gradually all that remained from the Base against the horizon was red glow and smoke.
It was over.
The Base, the submarine, the Cube, all had vanished forever.
“Hey, people, did you notice, the shining is gone”, Michael said.
The desert, last day, 100 miles southeast of Al-Farafra, 11:14 p.m. Driving in the Rover was hard and rough, but at the same time it was advancing confidently through the sand dunes as if sailing with the wind.
Michael removed his right hand from the steering wheel, turned over his shoulder and shoved the heap under the blanket on the back seat.
“Hans, are you sure you returned the Cube back in time?” “Yes, of course, there is not a trace of it left. It just evaporated like that”, Hans whistled. “Like smoke, like magic…”
“So, you returned it together with the submarine?”, Marcela asked.
“Yes, but the Colonel’s body fell over the controls and everything was mixed up. It smashed exactly on the temporal buttons. The last thing I remember from the interior, when we were attacked, was the date of the final destination. It was blinking brightly on the screen.”
“But it was supposed to be in 9861, the year the Russians took it before…” Michael said.
“What did the board say, Hans? Where did you send it?” Marcela’s head was almost between them.
Hans was quiet for some time, looked at Michael, then lowered his eyes, sighed and replied quietly:
“22.08.2018.”
AUTHOR’S NOTE
One of my most hateful subjects at school was Literature, immediately followed in this dark list by Physics and Mathematics. Naturally, at the Medical University we were not studying these subjects at all. Therefore, it is quite surprising that I started writing books, the themes of which tackle Mathematics and Physics.
I say I hated them but the truth is I adored these subjects! I was all burning inside while digging in Asimov, Lem, Strugatsky brothers, Crighton, Hawking. But at school I found the lessons endless and boring. I was amazed how the same subject matter could feverishly inspire my teenage mind and make me sleepy in class.
For years I had been wondering why I received such undesired marks especially in the fields I loved best. Only after some time I realized that the methods of teaching were hopelessly outdated and were neither interesting, nor effective. The repetition of dusty scientific doctrines at the dawn of the new millennium is not only dull but dangerously inadequate to the present times.
Even more so to the future.
I believe we need to stimulate our children to think, rather than cram lessons in their heads. To create with inspiration and intellect rather than copy. And most of all we need to allow them the freedom to feel and have dreams.
In this particular way most of the quasi-scientific theories in this book are emotional and untrue. They were mostly born by the writer’s imagination and not so much by his limited and not always lucid mind. You will not find them in any textbook, but if they made you think or even better – laugh here and there, then this book has realized its purpose.
If you are a teacher, ask your students; if you are a parent, ask your children if they do not have their own opinion on a certain matter. Talk to them in a friendly way and let them teach you. Give them the opportunity to speak. Learn how to listen. You might be surprised how talented, clever and different their reasoning might be. And how much you can learn from them.
And who knows, you student or son might be the next Columbus or Einstein.
He might discover not just a new continent, but new galaxies. He might not just describe time and space but master and control them.
All through my life I have much more wanted to write than to be read. I suppose if the opposite was true, you would not hold that book in your hands and reach its frank end.
February 2018
The Cube Alex Gore
ISBN: 978-619-230-033-3