by Chris Hechtl
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“Boss, this is nuts,” the blue haired tech said shaking his head. Max tried hard to keep a straight face. The kid looked like he belonged at a punk rock band fest rather than here. The big boss didn't care about appearances when it came to some stuff. As long as they kept it clean and neat and didn't have anything distracting or dangerous he shrugged it off.
“More nuts than going through a wormhole to an unknown world?” Max asked amused.
“Something like that. I mean, we shouldn't be doing this, we don't even have the catapult!” the tech said, waving to the deck ramp leading up to the vortex.
“Well, unfortunately, we've got to go with what we've got. According to the eggheads keeping an eye on the sun, this is the last major storm of the cycle. We won’t have another on our end for a while, maybe not for another eleven years. I don't know about you, but I'm too impatient to wait that long,” Max said. He grunted as he taped a package on top of the roof packages.
“What about on the other end?” Scooter asked, coming over to them. “Is it true we won’t have any steering or brakes?” he asked looking dubious.
Scooter was one of the drivers and the lead military mechanic. He and Max had hit it off the moment they'd gotten together in the machine shops.
Max shook his head. “Nope, no power steering, no power for the hydraulic brakes. No engine for that matter.” Max pointed to the truck behind them. The truck had a cow catcher attached to its front. “The catapult got held up in port by a storm so we're improvising. Since we don't have the catapult and the powers that be nixed my Wile E. Coyote rubber band idea this'll have to do. That truck is going to shove each vehicle up the ramp and into the vortex while trying to stay out of range of the lightning. Each vehicle will go in neutral, with it's electronics isolated.” He looked up to see the other drivers around him.
He nodded grimly aware that this could be the last briefing any of them had. “Okay, when you get through the vortex, try to steer the best you can. I know it'll be a bitch without power steering with these beasts. Roll out as far as you can, at least the first couple of vehicles. After that try to cut left or right to clear the path for the next guy.” He nodded to the drivers in the three lead cars. They were busy taping things all over the lead hummer. One gave a thumbs up signal briefly before going back to securing cases of chips he'd found in a store room.
“Looks like a damn Mexican tour bus,” he sighed seeing a guy taping a coffee grinder to a bumper. Bags of coffee were taped to the fender. Hopefully the nit wit remembered the filters. “Make sure you leave a spot so the driver can see folks,” he called.
“Everything electrical or electronic is going to be shielded in bronze Faraday cages and lead. That goes for us too.” He waved to the lead and bronze lined suits hanging nearby. Only Ryans had his on, the top off but tied around his waist. “Visibility is going to be a pain. Watch out for ditches or a sudden drop on the other end. We don't want anyone playing Wile E. Coyote for real.”
A couple of people snickered at that. “So, keep your hands and feet in the ride till it comes to a complete stop?” Nate quipped, smiling as he taped another biological kit to his truck. He had a fire extinguisher nearby, ready to go next.
“Got it in one,” Max said smiling.
“So how do we stop?” Nate asked.
“Well, if you need to stop quick use the parking brake,” he smiled at the look of disbelief that generated. “Slalom the steering back and forth to slow if you can. As long as you don't tip the fuck over with the high center of gravity!” He ended that last with a raised voice to a marine trying to load a fridge on top of a cab. The marine turned and flipped him the bird. It was good natured though. He snorted and shook his head, turning away. Hopefully the smart ass had filled the fridge before getting it up there. Probably with beer, he thought, amused once more. “Or you can go the Flintstones route and stick your feet out. I heard the Jarheads can do that since they're all Neanderthals anyway.”
Several people snickered at that. Nate's long British face twisted into a wry grin. “Thanks mate but I'll pass on that. Don't need the tootsies torn up.”
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“Shut it off Scooter,” Perry grunted to Sergeant Scott 'Scooter' Alvarez, their lead driver. The noncom was a short, whip thin Hispanic from Texas. He looked up at the order.
“But...” the noncom complained reaching for his iPod. Perry gave him his best commanding look.
“Sorry sir,” The noncom said sheepishly, turning off the iPod.
“Take the batteries out too,” Perry warned. “Oh, and Scooter?”
“Yes, sir?” The Sergeant said fumbling with the tiny battery pack.
“I want that song. Upload it to me when you get a chance,” Perry smiled.
“Blow me away? Or Epic battle? Sure thing boss. I love it when I'm playing Halo,” Scooter replied smiling slightly.
“How are we set for fuel?” Lewis asked.
Max looked over to them. “The military vehicles will use diesel, or biodiesel once we get that up and running.” He waved to the lead truck. “The civilian vehicles use ethylene.”
“What the hell?” Scooter asked. “Why ever for?”
“Cause it's smart. That's what it is,” Max said smiling. “The biodiesel’s a bitch to make. We've got to have lye, methanol, that's wood grain alcohol by the way, and oh gallons of veggie oil.”
Scooter grimaced at that. “Yeah, I can see that ain't exactly going to be easy to get our hands on.”
Max nodded. He'd wanted hybrid cars and trucks but the damn lightning had nixed that idea. “Yeah, but the RWG thingy, that's different. That takes hydrogen, which we get from running current through water, plus carbon monoxide and dioxide, which we can get from the air and from the tail pipes of your trucks, and we run em through a reverse water gas shift thingy and it makes methane, and then ethylene.”
“Neat,” Scooter nodded. Ginger rolled her eyes and walked away. “I think we can modify the carburetor to run on ethylene if we can mix it with something,” Scooter said.
Max shrugged, “Probably.”
Scooter shook his head as he added a tool box to their ill-gotten gains. They could never have enough tools or parts. “That fuckin' veggie oil is for the birds though. That crap's going to be a bitch to make and use.”
“Well, if it's straight yeah,” Max replied shook his head, “Hence the whole biodiesel thing.” He pointed to a bunch of plastic containers. There had been a pair of gas trucks and a water truck in the works. Only a couple made it, the rest were still on a ship bobbing around in the Atlantic. Fat lot of good they did there and not here but that was the breaks, they'd just have to make do without them. “That'll make it so we can run it straight from the tank without a prewarmer thing that straight oil needs. It's safer than straight hydrogen, which is our last ditch fall back.”
Scooter shivered theatrically. “Ah crap, saw that on MythBusters. Hydrogen is damn scary.”
“Tell me about it.” Max looked over to Lieutenant Perry who was looking impatient. “Looks like you get to go play chauffeur.” He slapped Scooter's shoulder. “Good luck hombre. See you on the other side.”
“Yeah, lucky me,” Scooter muttered, walking off.
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Lieutenant Perry gasped as every nerve in his body felt like it was stabbing him. Despite the cage, despite the shielding he still got a jolt. Not enough to kill him, but it wasn't pleasant. He looked up as the hummer crunched through the rocks and scrub grass, gasping, feeling like he'd been roasted or like he'd touched a live wire... or all of the above. His chest hurt like hell and it was difficult to breathe.
His eyes swam in and out of focus as his tear ducts flowed. The sky was a deep, deep blue, that much he realized as they bumped and jolted along in their mad rush. There were only a few clouds in front of them. He looked back to see the vortex was spinning, bolts of lightning rippled along its edge, slamming into the ground. Incoming thund
erheads were behind it, off in the distance. Suddenly he didn't mind their headlong dash away from the damn thing.
The thunder was incredible, almost deafening. The heat... he could feel it but it was letting up the further they got away. Heat and humidity, like a wet sock hitting you in the face. He turned as he pulled off his helmet mask. “What a ride,” he sighed as Scooter groaned, trying to deal with his own pain and dodge Max's Stryker in front of them. Scooter pulled the wheel to the left, grunting under the strain. Perry lent his own hand to the effort, trying to help the wheel turn. The truck was a bastard without power steering and he knew they were in trouble.
“Damn bitch won’t turn without power steering...” Scooter grunted under the strain. He reached down and pulled the parking brake up sharply. The truck skidded as it slowed, pebbles flying on either side before it stopped.
Perry got out groaning. He turned to view the vortex; glad he was far enough away to appreciate the thing. It was spinning faster now; heat and energy made the air pop and ripple around it. The air shimmered and changed colors. “Damn that's gorgeous,” he sighed. “Definitely not in Kansas anymore,” he said looking around. From a platform in the middle of the Atlantic to the bluffs of some alien world in seconds.
“Yeah, well, got under a minute to move this bitch,” Scooter grunted as he tried to climb out. He fell to the ground by the truck, head swimming suddenly as he retched. Most of what had been grudgingly thought of as a tex mex omelet ended up spewed all over the place.
“Crap,” Perry gasped himself. He stumbled then got to the hood. The disorientation, weakness, and nausea hadn't been something they'd planned on. “Damn!” He grunted trying to lift the hood. His fingers, hell his whole body tingled and felt either numb or on fire. “Get the LAV's out on point!” he hollered, not looking up from the tape as he tore at it.
“You heard the man, get the LAV's out. Shiller, barf on your own time. Move it!” Water's hoarse bellow echoed from one side. Perry glanced his way. The noncom was wiping at his own mouth as he pulled a folding knife out of a pocket.
“Gotta cut the tape,” Perry grunted taking the hint and fumbling in his pocket for his own knife. Max was out of the Stryker, tossing packages off and cutting at the tape. He pulled his belt knife and started cutting along the seam of the hood.
“Didn't plan on this. What a cluster fuck,” Scooter sighed getting to his feet. He got his own knife out and started cutting at the tape.
The vortex pulsed, making them both wince and look. “Not much time,” Perry said, starting to feel the urgency. It might be that the hairs on the back of his neck were up from the static electricity. Despite the suit they could still feel the energy coursing through the air.
They tore at the tape, throwing things to one side or another. A Stryker came through the vortex bumping into a ditch then pitching up and to the side. Perry looked up as the truck approached; ready to run but the pothole had thrown it off course. It veered past a dead stick. The driver and passenger were both out it seemed. He pursed his lips watching it go by and then went back to sawing at the rigger tape.
“Is it just me or did that damn thing move?” Scooter asked. Perry looked up at him. Scooter was staring back the way they had come. “The vortex, I could have sworn it was a bit closer,” the driver said pointing with a shaky finger. Perry followed his gaze. The vortex was pulsing, lightning rippling out. The grass around it was on fire, oily black smoke was whipped up into the air.
“I don't know, but I do know if we don't get moving we're going to have someone up our ass right smart,” Perry grunted lifting the hood. Max had his Stryker online, and it was lumbering off out of danger. It looked like he was going after the lone runaway.
“Got it,” Scooter said, leaning in and hooking the leads back up. “Got the battery sir?” the noncom asked. Perry grunted as he clipped the hot wires “done and done." “Mary, the computer?” he called as they slammed the lid closed.
“Shit, she's out,” Scooter rushed to the cab. Perry opened the passenger door then began tearing at the paneling pushing the limp woman's legs aside. Papers and crap were falling out into the foot well of the cab and onto the ground around.
“Fuck me! Why the hell did they pack the damn thing?” Scooter snarled fumbling to get crap out of the way. In haste he just chucked stuff out and off, sometimes flinging it aside. Mary groaned but didn't move.
“Beats me,” Perry grunted pulling the computer out and then hooking leads up.
“Got it,” Scooter grunted hitting the ignition button. The throaty growl was beautiful; it was the most beautiful sound in the world. “Let's rock and roll!” He slammed the parking brake down and then turned the wheel and hit the gas. Perry slammed the door and backed away as the Hummer moved out. He turned to the perimeter, doing a quick professional scan, yelling at PFC Edsfield to get with the program.
“Incoming!” Edsfield called, moving to one side as the vortex pulsed and thundered. Perry turned and then dived to the side as a supply truck came through and rumbled past, right where he'd been standing.
“Damn that thing was hauling,” he said rolling to his feet. He checked the truck, noting it was rolling far enough to be out of the way and then he turned back to the vortex. He was even more wary than before now.
“This could be a problem. It's moved,” he said, looking at it. The vortex had moved closer to the cliff edge. It was smaller and was changing shape. It seemed to ripple, energy tearing at the ground. He looked at the smoldering ground around it, then back. Each transit had knocked the vortex back and deformed it for a brief time. It was within a hundred yards of the edge of... something. He pulled off his suit and tossed it to the ground as he walked off to one side, then up towards the side of the vortex. He wanted to come in on this thing's flank not dead on in front of the next poor sap coming through the express ride to hell.
“Please don't be... please don't be...Ah hell,” he whispered, seeing the edge. “Cliff!” He turned looking at the others then pulling out his radio. He swore softly as he put the radio batteries in, and then clicked it on.
“It might help if someone else had theirs hooked up,” he sighed noting the others were still suited up. “Leave that shit for later!” he bellowed, seeing several of the scientists trying to unpack gear. One had a camera up and was trying to take video but was shaking like a leaf. “Get the hell out of the way!” he yelled again waving to them.
Max waved, adding his own full throated bellow to the mix. Scientists moved, none to their assigned tasks but at least they weren't making a mess of the LZ. “What a cluster fuck,” Perry sighed as a second supply truck bounced through the portal. Its driver hit the brakes right away, slamming it to a halt. Its trailer bucked up by the sudden stop then flipped. Cursing Max and Perry ran for it.
“Oh crap, this is going to suck,” Max hollered over the storm.
“Yeah think?” Perry snarled back, trying to right the trailer. “We've got to drag the fucker if we can't move it!” Max said between crackles and thunderous pops. He looked over his shoulder to the portal. “Damn, is it moving?”
“Probably,” Perry said, looking himself. Indeed, the portal was creeping backwards closer to the cliff's edge.
“If this keeps up we're going to have a serious problem. I make it three minutes between resets. That means we've got less than a minute to do something about this,” Max grunted, trying to pull at the trailer.
“Leave it Max!” They both looked up to see Ryans leaning out of the cab. “I've got it running.” The truck stalled, and then rumbled to life. Slowly it moved dragging its trailer behind it. Bits of gear littered its wake.
“Go!” Perry said running to the side to get clear as the portal pulsed, warning of an impending transit. Suddenly a third truck was there; it slammed into the edge of the trailer and then careened off to the left toward the other trucks. The trailer's tongue shrieked and then snapped under the strain. The safety chains held it to the ma deuce truck, however. It rolled upside do
wn, spraying some of its load and then slowly toppled back down onto one side. Equipment and material now littered the area. Perry ducked as a three meter long wire holding rolls of riggers tape came loose and went end over end. Perry watched it go briefly and then dusted himself off.
“Ah, why me?” Max half moaned, half growled, getting up from the ground. He brushed himself off with his ball cap then waved to Ryans. “Gun it!” he hollered.
“What the hell do you think I'm trying to do?!” Ryans called back.
Perry looked around. “What a cluster fuck,” he sighed. At least the LAV's were out on perimeter and there weren't any reporters on hand to record this. They had one or two more supply trucks to go before the civilian vehicles and the Colonel came through. Hopefully they could get this shit under some sort of order before the brass showed up.
His radio squelched. He could just barely hear a voice repeat something. “LAV's are out on perimeter,” Master Sergeant Waters reported over the net. “The engineering and hospital rigs are clear.”
Perry nodded, “Good. Glad something is going right. Get the civilians sorted out and get everyone on radio. Get Patterson to try to punch a signal through that and warn the following wave that they are about to run out of plateau,” Perry said, touching his mike. He looked up to the sky.
“Everyone on radio, check the people next to you and make sure they have their radios on. Buddy up. Get to your assigned tasks people. Let's move it!” Waters bellowed, pointing to a knot of scientists nearby. “You! Yeah you numb nuts get your radio on and secure your gear. Play with your toys later or I'll kick your ass up between your shoulder blades!” he snarled. He pointed to another miscreant. “You...”
Perry snorted as the Master Sergeant took the civilians in hand. “It's going to be close,” Ryans said eying the vortex. He turned his eyes to the sky, frowning at the thunderheads approaching. He looked over the edge of the cliff, and then whistled. “Long freakin' way down.” The base of the cliff was covered in jagged rocks. Storm surge was already affecting the waves; they were already white capping and crashing into the rocks with ferocious intensity.