Event Horizon Threshold

by Kaitlyn O’Connor

  EVENT HORIZON:

  THRESHOLD

  By

  Kaitlyn O’Connor

  Copyright ( c ) Madris DePasture writing as Kaitlyn O’Connor March 2021

  Cover Art by Jenny Dixon

  Smashwords Edition

  New Concepts Publishing

  Lake Park, GA 31636

  www.newconceptspublishing.com

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

  Chapter One

  Dr. Roslyn O’Neal struggled to ignore the organized chaos around her and focus on her relaxation techniques.

  To prevent herself from an acute case of hysterics brought on by terror of the most intense kind.

  She was poised—with her group of carefully selected scientists—to make a discovery that went so far beyond ‘historic’ and ‘monumental’ she doubted there was a word in the English language that could be used to describe it.

  ‘The Gods’ actually had left a message for mankind.

  For years the rumors/tales/pure fiction had circulated that aliens had visited the Earth long ago and had left ‘evidence’ and or knowledge for the descendents of first man.

  Then, as is so often the case, one man stumbled upon it—not entirely by accident because he’d been searching for it for decades.

  A string of data embedded in human DNA that wasn’t junk and wasn’t actual DNA, but rather a blueprint and instructions for the thing the team was currently powering up.

  A gateway to the stars.

  There were still far too many questions in Rosyln’s mind for her to feel the confidence she wished for in the endeavor. Was the information they’d been bequeathed an invitation? Or a summons?

  Would the aliens who’d left it be hostile, having long forgotten the message they left?

  Forgotten by thousands of years.

  Would they even still exist after so much time had passed?

  And, saying they actually did get to wherever they were meant to go instead of having their atoms scattered across the universe, would there be a way to come back?

  And what if it transpired that it was only a trick and the device was some sort of bomb that would destroy the Earth when it was activated?

  Of course, teams of the most brilliant minds in every discipline had poured over the data with a fine toothed comb and assured everyone in power that this was a gift, knowledge and technology beyond our wildest dreams.

  Not that it actually was beyond our wildest dreams, because scientists had been feverishly working on space travel for many years, trying to figure out how they could get from point A to point Z in the space of a human lifetime—in fact well under that. They had felt like, for decades, that they were on the very cusp of a breakthrough that would make exploration of distant solar systems, and galaxies a doable possibility.

  And then, suddenly, there it was, dropped in the laps of humanity in a neat little package.

  Roslyn tried not to think of it as a Trojan horse.

  She thought, even if she hadn’t been going herself, that she would have been afraid that that was what it was. The fact that she’d answered the call made it that much more terrifying a possibility.

  She didn’t see the same level of fear in her fellow travelers and it made her wonder if they’d been given Valium and she’d been screwed.

  She picked her backpack up for the millionth time and opened it to check the contents, to make certain she had packed everything she absolutely couldn’t do without.

  They weren’t supposed to be gone more than a week, but she knew how that sort of thing could pan out.

  And there were some things a person just didn’t want to do without days, let alone weeks.

  She mentally ticked off the contents list—hers—not what she’d been told to bring. The things she’d added were at least as important to her as the list of essentials the company/government had given her. It added a tiny bit to the weight, but not enough to worry about, she told herself.

  Better to have it and whine about the weight than not have it.

  Satisfied, she closed it up again and settled it beside the chair she occupied.

  Naturally, she’d no sooner suited up than she’d had to pee.

  Damn it!

  Well, she might as well get used to using the suit, she told herself. She could be living in it until she got back—as disgusting as that thought was.

  But she had to accept that, if the target planet didn’t support human life, she couldn’t take it off. There wouldn’t be a safe chamber to do it.

  The probes had said it was safe, of course—at least that was what they’d been told—but the truth was no damned body really knew where they were going or even if they hit the same target every time it was powered up. They believed it did.

  Or at least seemed to.

  They—her and the rest of the team that was going—were told the suits were ‘insurance’.

  And that they—the people who were actually in charge of the project—were more concerned about the conditions in the wormhole than on the target planet itself.

  To preserve any semblance of calm, she dismissed those thoughts, again, with an effort as she straightened in her seat.

  A commotion near the entrance to the control room caught her attention as she sat back, drew her gaze—set off alarm bells.

  The sight that greeted her silenced the bells instantly.

  Three men wearing suits similar to theirs, except a different color and with military insignias, had just entered the control room. Almost as if a tidal wave of testosterone rushed before them, crossing the room in a split second to engulf her, Roslyn felt the shockwave hit her and stun her.

  She thought their military bearing would’ve been impressive enough in and of itself, but the suits set off builds that went beyond ‘fit’ into the realm of female fantasy. And if that were not enough, all three of them were well above average in looks—almost male model beauty.

  She was so entranced it took her many moments of gaping at them in stunned awe before it slowly sank in that they were staring back at her.

  She felt her face light up like a Christmas tree and jerked her gaze away, reaching down to snatch her backpack up for another check.

  “Do you think there’s anything in there that magically appeared? Or disappeared since the last time you checked.”

  It was a male voice, but the one beside her, not the gods standing across the room.

  It increased Rosyln’s embarrassment and brought a surge of resentment, as well. “I just remembered I didn’t remember seeing my toothbrush,” she muttered without glancing at him.

  He uttered a snort of laughter.

  Rosyln did turn to glare at him, then, made no attempt to hide her annoyance. “This is funny how?”

  He shook his head. “Paul. Dr. Rucker,” he said, sticking his hand out to shake.

  Rosyln struggled with her temper. “Dr. O’Neal,” she responded, hesitating and then extending her gloved hand for a brief shake.

  “I figured that’s who you were. Going to do the Tomb Raiders sort of thing on the alien world?”

  Her lips tightened. She was sorry she’d shook his hand. She supposed he thought he was being clever and funny, but she found it insulting. “I’m an archeologist, yes. I don’t really expect to find tombs to desecrate. I do hope to see some ruins to explore.”

  “I just hope we land on solid ground,” the man on her other side mumbled and extended his hand when Roslyn glanced in his direction. “Marvin Trujillo.”

  Rosyln offered him a genuine smile. “Roslyn. So nice to meet you. I’ve heard a l
ot about your work.”

  She hadn’t, actually, but it seemed a polite remark to make and harmless—hopefully. Most scientists that she knew were so thrilled to meet another scientist that might be interested in the area they were that they tended to gush when they got the chance.

  “I see our military watchdogs arrived. I guess this means they’ll be powering up the gateway any time now.”

  Roslyn’s belly instantly cramped at the reminder that they were about to step into a machine no human had ever been through.

  All sorts of inanimate objects—mostly probes—many of which had simply disappeared from what she’d heard—and a few lab animals—but no people.

  The reminder of their escort was enough to distract her, though, and she flicked a glance in their direction. Dismayed when she saw they were no longer where she’d seen them before, she searched the floor and then glanced toward the observation window above them.

  Apparently the trio had been drawn into a last meeting with the project director. Even as she found them, though, they turned, almost as if they sensed her attention, and looked across the floor to where she sat waiting with the others.

  Or maybe the director was discussing them?

  Dismissing it with an effort, she leaned forward to look at the last member of their group, smiled when she caught her eye and introduced herself. The woman sent her a haunted look and a forced smile. “Gretchen … uh … Brooks.”

  Ok, Gretchen might be more terrified than she was, Roslyn thought.

  Her heart skipped a dozen beats when she settled back and turned to look for their military escort again. They’d entered the command center again and were striding directly toward them.

  The one in the lead nodded. “Helmets on.”

  Roslyn merely gaped at him like a moron, so mesmerized by the sound of his voice, and, if she was honest, the beautiful view, she hardly registered what he’d said. He had the most beautifully formed lips she’d ever seen, she thought, dazzled.

  Paul elbowed her. “The helmet? Apparently we’re about to leave.”

  Brought to sudden awareness of her surroundings, Roslyn nearly head butted the soldier’s crotch when she leaned down to grab the helmet that she’d set by her foot.

  She felt the top of her head skim his … something.

  Her face was red again when she sat back and stared at the helmet, trying to figure out how to put it on. A pair of male hands removed it from her hold and nudged her chin to make her tilt her head back.

  “Stand.”

  Like a sleepwalker, she stood up. He took the helmet in both hands, then, and carefully slipped it over her head and then fastened it. Grasping her shoulders, he turned her away from him and turned on the tank to feed oxygen to her.

  When he’d checked her suit carefully, he glanced at the others and finally moved down to help Marvin with his suit since the other two soldiers were helping Gretchen and Paul.

  Even the sound deadening effects of the suit didn’t completely close out the sound of the gateway powering up.

  Rosyln’s heart ceased to gallop for the unknown soldier and began to race in fear as she turned to stare at the machine.

  “I guess we aren’t important enough to get introductions,” Paul muttered in her earpiece.

  She sent a horrified glance at him since the soldiers were also wearing helmets by this time, but he merely grinned at her cockily.

  “Maybe they don’t want to get too personal … under the circumstances?” Marvin commented.

  “What circumstances?” Gretchen asked in a quaking voice.

  “Way to go, dipshit,” Paul muttered.

  Marvin glared at him. “Wormy bastard.”

  Oh my god! They hadn’t even gotten through the gateway and they were already fighting!

  The soldiers distracted them by herding them over to the gangplank—so aptly named, all things considered!

  They lined up with the ‘creepy thing’—a robotic pack machine that looked sort of like a mechanical dog—except it had no head on either end.

  It was loaded down with everything imaginable and it should have helped her feelings to see it, she supposed, but she just couldn’t dismiss the creep factor long enough to appreciate it.

  Two of the men assumed ‘point’ and one followed up the rear, directly behind Roslyn.

  It was the number one hunk—the one who seemed to be the leader of the group—a blond giant that made her think of the Viking god Thor. Except he didn’t have the long, flowing golden mane of the myth—or thankfully the wild beard! His beautiful mug was all bare.

  She felt like she had a force field at her back.

  It was so bizarre to feel like she could feel him.

  But it was a welcome distraction as they began to march toward stardom … or doom.

  The gateway opened with a crackle like lightning—or raw electricity and almost seemed to suck them in.

  Not almost—did.

  Rosyln hovered on the threshold for a split-second when she reached it and then she was sucked in by the force of the event horizon. She felt her beautiful hunk grasp her hand as she was sucked through.

  * * * *

  As accustomed to lab settings as Aurek was, the activity, the babble of so many voices at once, within the control room was such that it momentarily disrupted his focus, disorienting him. In a moment, however, he was able to tune all of it out and narrow his focus to his search. It was a short one. The scientists that he was to escort were seated in a row of chairs to one side of the room, looking lost and terrified.

  He scanned them thoroughly, one by one, and finally settled on the one and activated his internal communications. Target acquired. Locked. Initiating prime directive protocols. Unit one, do you copy?

  Unit one. Affirmative. Target acquired. Locked. Initiating prime directive protocols.

  Unit two?

  Unit two, affirmative. Target acquired. Locked. Initiating prime directive protocols.

  “You’re late. Come with me,” a man said directly beside them.

  “We are precisely on time,” Aurek responded. “You chronometer is incorrect.”

  The man threw him an irritated glance, but apparently decided that it was pointless to argue. He ushered them into the observation room.

  “I need you to repeat your orders, alpha leader.”

  Aurek stared at him, analyzing the comment for subtle translations. He could find nothing, however, that suggested the man had meant other than what he’d said. “The orders were programmed into our CPUs,” he responded finally. “We cannot ‘forget’ them.”

  “Humor me,” the director said tightly.

  “Very well,” Aurek responded, accessing the government’s orders since he had ascertained that he was speaking to a government representative, without pointing out that he had orders from three separate entities—the government, the company that had funded the project from inception, and the creators—whose orders superseded all others in the case that those orders contradicted the prime directive. “We are to escort the scientific expedition to the target planet. We are ordered to close and seal the gateway when we arrive and to protect the scientists from harm while they learn what they can in the allotted time. In the event that we are met with hostile aliens, we are to execute the scientists and self-destruct to eliminate the possibility of hostile aliens using the gateway to reach Earth and to prevent the scientists from being tortured for potentially dangerous information about the Earth’s military capabilities.”

  The director nodded. “Do you have questions?”

  Aurek stared at him. “We have been adequately programmed.”

  Again, the director nodded. “Will you have any problem executing the orders as given?”

  “Negative,” Aurek responded promptly.

  “Good! I think we’re ready now. You should check to make sure the science team is properly suited up before they get to the gateway. They’re understandably nervous.”

  “Affirmative.”

 
He exchanged a long look with Dylan and the medic, Tor, as they filed out of the observation room and returned to the operations room, wondering what their perception was of the strange conversation.

  “I do not think I comprehend the intentions of the project director,” Dylan said almost on that thought.

  “It seemed … completely unnecessary,” Tor agreed. “Do you think he is unaware that we are cyborgs?”

  Aurek frowned as he considered that. “It seems unlikely, but I suppose it is possible. The government tends to work on a ‘need to know’ basis. Perhaps he does not need to know?”

  They dismissed it as they reached the control room once more and headed directly toward the science team to make certain they were properly suited up. He went straight to the pale haired one—Dr. Roslyn O’Neal. He had, of course, observed her from the other side of the room, but he found that there were subtle details in her expressions that he had failed to register from that distance.

  The look in her eyes when she met his gaze elevated his heart rate and his respiration. It disconcerted him, at first, but he was part human and he realized it was that part of himself that had reacted to her.

  Anger flickered through him.

  The creators had not given proper consideration to who might develop them, he decided, or they would have made certain to instruct them to develop—teach—them how to interact with humans. Instead, they had focused entirely on weapons development and programming and left it up to them to learn what they could themselves in a limited environment.

  Or not.

  Clearly it had not been a matter of interest to the developers.

  He could not think that he and his team were even nominally prepared in that sense for the task the creators had expected of them.

  He felt the biological part of himself, but he had no real understanding of it.

  Was that a good thing—that it appeared to have been developed as expected?

  Or might it be … disastrous to the prime directive?

  Chapter Two

  Roslyn clung to the hand holding hers as if it was a lifeline as she was sucked through a swirling maelstrom—a space vortex—instead of belonging to a fellow traveler who was no more safe harbor than she was.