Overture (Earth Song)

by Mark Wandrey

  Mindy worked as fast as she could; carefully studying every aspect of the sky she'd never actually seen. There was that strange arrow-shaped formation, and there the one that looked like a dragon. In her head she had begun to name them. It made her feel like an ancient Greek mariner lying on a ship and staring up at the night sky. The constellations’ shapes began to take on personalities all their own and eventually grew into an entire pantheon. She wondered if that would happen to the future colonists of this new world.

  Staring at one tantalizingly familiar formation she squinted in concentration. She had dubbed it Osiris because, to her, it faintly resembled the Egyptian Eye of Osiris. Now staring at it through the crystal clear Portal, its familiarity reached a level so intense that her head hurt. It was like someone had sunk a fishhook into part of her brain and was tugging at it. All too quickly, the image swirled and vanished. “Damn!” she screamed and slammed one fist into the other.

  “You didn’t move a muscle the whole time,” Harold said as he came up behind her, “we were afraid you had a seizure.”

  “No, I’m fine,” she growled. “Damn it, I was getting close!”

  “You’ve been getting close for weeks.”

  “You don’t understand, I’m really getting close!”

  “Well, there’s nothing much to be done about it.”

  Over at the computers, Osgood was busily plowing through all the messages that the team on the other end had generated waiting for this chance to communicate. Many were intended for loved ones and would have to be combed before transmission. Others were of a technical nature, discussing the condition of their equipment and personnel. The few of a scientific nature were light in the way of hard information, another disappointment for him. And finally one was marked as urgent. He opened that one as Volant rolled over to spy past his elbow. They read it at the same time and then looked at each other.

  Lt. Colonel Dan Wilson had written several hours ago. “This morning we were stunned to receive a transmission on the shortwave radio. We knew the other Portals were being used, especially the Israeli’s, but to this point there had been no radio traffic. It was as if by some unwritten agreement we had all been keeping radio silence. My team only used low power VHF transmitters while exploring. Yesterday this is what we heard.”

  There was an imbedded audio file. Osgood tapped the link and they listened. Static hissed for a moment then a voice came through albeit somewhat distant and weak. “Attention all those who are listening. We hereby claim this world in the name of the Soviet Socialists Party. All who immigrate here are thus forward considered subjects of the Party and will work to our greater goal. We warn you that none dare oppose the Red Army. We carry with us the force of nuclear arms and will use them against our enemies.” The message ended to the strains of the old communist anthem.

  “Guess Eden has a few serpents,” Volant said. “This changes things.” He read the rest of the message that stated they believed the signal was from more than a thousand miles away. The commander also commented that they were running somewhat low on ammunition as a result of an attempt by local fauna to re-colonize their area. “Could those Commies have gotten a bomb through?” Volant asked.

  “Anything is possible, it just has to be light enough and they have to be willing to give up the weight.” Volant considered the smallest nuke the Russian Federation had in its arsenal and quickly realized that two or three warheads met the size restraints of being carried by a smaller man. Or what if they used a small child, or a baby to activate the Portal? They could have almost the whole weight allotment and that meant a good sized nuke.

  “But could they get a delivery device through?”

  “I’m an egghead, remember Volant? What the hell do you mean by delivery device?”

  “A way to set off the bomb without killing the user. An airplane, missile, or a really big artillery piece.”

  “Like I said before, it’s all a matter of how much you want to give up in weight from each person crossing. We could bring a jet fighter if we took it apart and each person only carried parts for it. Of course then there is fuel, a landing strip, the tools to put it together…”

  Osgood rambled on as Volant was considering all of this. Was it now imperative that he get a nuke or two across as well? Something about that struck him as ludicrous. He had to consider these Soviet types cracked to the core and settle for that. Would they be a real threat? Had they been insane enough to get an aircraft to carry a nuke and drop it in the American’s lap?

  “We’re sending another person through,” he decided.

  “Great, how soon?”

  “In about an hour,” Volant said and turned to Steve. “Get a hold of Ordinance; I have a couple things I want brought over.” Steve listened and nodded his head.

  “What’s going on?” Mindy asked Leo as the dome continued to swirl with activity.

  “You’re going to get a second peep through the Portal. The team over there sent back a message and it’s got Osgood and Volant into a fit. They’re going to send another person over.”

  “Who’s it going to be?” she asked with an ear to ear grin.

  “Don’t even think about it. They have a couple soldiers left from the initial team of volunteers. They’re eager to link up with their friends and crazy enough not to care that it’s a one way trip.”

  “Did you say we got a message from the other side? I didn’t see anyone there except the woman we just sent through, how are they communicating?”

  “Only thing they could get to transmit was a laser. Every time someone goes through they instantly link up and exchange data. If someone is waiting over there you can even have a conversation via headsets.”

  “Wow, that’s handy. Has anyone tried any other ways of controlling the Portal?”

  “There hasn’t been time.”

  Less than an hour later a squad of soldiers appeared carrying two long olive drab crates and an assortment of smaller metal cans. One of the remaining Special Forces volunteers was finishing her preparation, eager to get on with it. At exactly an hour after the first crossing, the soldier stepped past Mindy and onto the other world. Mindy quickly leaned in and picked up her observations as the other soldiers handed through the heavy crates.

  Having been alerted of a possible follow up, the rest of the residents of Ft. Eden were in attendance. Lt. Colonel Wilson had already been over the briefing sent to him concerning why they’d been so long without reinforcements and the concern was evident on his face. When the long crates were handed through he recognized them instantly and nodded his head.

  “Thanks,” he said into the headset.

  “No problem, Lt. Colonel,” said Volant from his wheelchair, “let’s just hope you don’t need them.”

  “I agree, sir. Good choice for a scientist. Sgt. Broadmoore is going to fit right in.”

  “Good to hear it.” Volant noticed how the Lt. Colonel was looking at the tableau of Mindy staring up at the night sky. “She’s trying to figure out where you are.”

  “Oh, I guess that might be useful. We need some help in dealing with these lizards. The Komodo sloths are turning out to be a tad more energetic than originally thought. I’d have to say they’re territorial as well. Our presence here has become a challenge to the scaly bastards. We’ve capped at least forty of them.”

  “We took care of that ammo problem for you. Our next contact is in seventy-two hours. Forty lizards, eh? How do they taste?”

  “Kinda like chicken.” The Portal shimmered and closed. Mindy turned around and was walking away from the Portal, her eyes unfocused and mind completely occupied. She moved past and bounced off people without seeming to notice them as she headed for the exit. “What’s the story?” Volant asked, maneuvering his wheelchair in behind her. “Do you know where they are?”

  “I’ll let you know,” she said simply and left.

  “She okay?” he asked Leo and Harold.

  “You’ve never hung around astronomers before, have
you?” Harold asked.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means she’ll be fine,” Leo said. “She just needs some time to let that all come together in her head.” Volant shrugged and watched them all go. Osgood was busy going over his data and the technicians were shutting down their instruments. Two crossings, lots of new info, and only an hour before his PT appointment.

  “I’ve got to get going or I’m going to miss my appointment,” he told Steve.

  “No problem sir, I have things under control.” Volant nodded his head and steered toward the exit. “Oh, I almost forgot!” Steve ran up behind him and tucked a file into the satchel on Volant’s wheelchair. “You wanted this a few days ago, I just got it. Take a look after your appointment.”

  Volant nodded his head absently and wheeled out to his waiting car. It was really a van, but the man behind the wheel was his regular driver. The file was completely forgotten as he rolled inside and let the driver secure his chair.

  “Everything go fine, sir?”

  “No problems, son. Let’s hurry it up; I don’t want to keep Tinkerbell waiting.”

  Amanda Broadmoore finished her tour of the modest facilities and was busy unpacking her gear. They'd been fairly liberal with her allotment of equipment considering the inherent weight limitations imposed by the Portal. When another person made a surprise crossing shortly after hers, Osgood had made good his promise to keep it coming. One of the Special Forces guys brought her a metallic case. Inside was a miniaturized mass spectrometer and materials analysis apparatus designed by NASA for the Mars project. “Nothing like a million dollar box to make a girl feel at home,” she said and patted the case. Now her only problem was power. The whole place, which they euphemistically called Ft. Eden, had only five two hundred watt solar arrays and the one small rechargeable deep cycle battery bank. She quickly sent to the base computer a request for more solar power arrays and batteries. Considering the incredibly massive list of equipment they needed, it was unlikely she would see it any time soon. The spectrometer had its own set of solar cells, and they were fifth generation, designed to extract power from the more distant sun on Mars. If she had more external power, her work would go much faster.

  Her new home and lab once housed two men. They had already moved their stuff to one end, giving up half their living space for her to sleep and work. Several other men already provided improvised wooden tables and one of their precious micro white LED table lights. It appeared a girl in the base was a refreshing change of scenery and they were eager to get on her good side. In an hour she was right at home.

  “Moved in okay?” asked Lt. Colonel Wilson who'd been watching her for a few minutes.

  “Sir!” she said and jumped to her feet.

  “Stop that, sergeant,” he ordered and she relaxed, “here at Ft. Eden we prefer to keep it informal.”

  “As you wish, sir. Yes, the men have been quite accommodating.”

  “The fact that you are an attractive woman probably has some bearing on that.” She smiled, thinking that her sex was probably the reason why he was talking to her as well. “I brought you a taste of the local cuisine.” He held out a Ziploc clear plastic package. Inside were several strips of vaguely pinkish meat with a decidedly ‘alien’ smell to it. The scientist in her recoiled in horror. The Lt. Colonel saw her expression and grinned. “We’ve been eating this for a couple weeks now. We’re fine, no signs of illness or malnutrition.”

  “I’d think if you were going to get sick it would have happened by now,” she said and accepted the package. Aside from an exotic twinge, it smelled sweet and possessed a chicken-like taste, only with more fiber, like a steak. They had dried it and added some pepper for flavoring. Amanda didn’t remember if she had ever bought jerky in the store that tasted better. “Very tasty,” she said as she chewed. “Probably sell a ton of it back home.”

  “Exporting it could be a challenge,” Wilson said. Outside, the night forest reverberated with a thunderous sound. Some little element in the back of her monkey brain recoiled in fear at the primal roar of a huge predatory reptile.

  “Oh, my Lord,” Amanda whispered.

  “Yeah, the neighbors are restless.” Wilson went outside with Amanda right behind him. The forest was surrealistically quiet except for the sound of something moving through the undergrowth not too far away. She caught herself looking toward the Portal as a line of retreat before she remembered it was only one way.

  “What’s the sitrep, Jeff?” Wilson yelled.

  Jeff was a Special Forces soldier a short distance away. He wore night vision optics and pointed into the woods. “It’s a pair of Komodo sloths stalking the camp. Vince sat on a howler a few minutes ago and set off a shit load of them. The local cops are just showing up to enforce the noise ordinance.”

  “What’s a howler?” Amanda asked.

  Wilson pointed at a six inch long lizard on a branch watching them with all four of its golden eyes. Three pairs of delicately clawed arms held the branch, tensed to jump in an instant. “Harmless little predators. They squawk if you touch them. The others pick up the call and sometimes if a sloth is nearby it shows up to investigate.” The howler eyed them for a few seconds before deciding to scamper off.

  “I thought you said sometimes a sloth showed up, this is two of them.”

  “A new phenomenon. We killed all the ones we found in a kilometer radius. They have no fear of man and consider anything that fits in their mouth to be food. A few days ago they started showing up in greater numbers. I think they must be attracted to the camp.”

  “We’ll have to see what we can do about that,” Amanda said as she surveyed the clearing with an eye toward fortifications.

  “Here comes one,” Jeff warned and blew a whistle he wore around his neck. The other six Special Forces soldiers all appeared instantly; many of them dressed only in underwear or shorts, but they all carried their battle rifles.

  “Anyone get out the new .50 caliber we got in the last load?”

  “Not yet, sir,” someone said.

  “Shit. All right, standard OP. Aim for the eyes.” The movement from the nearby jungle stopped. “They follow the same stalking tactics every time,” Wilson explained. “Get in close enough to see the target, stop and watch it for a while, then pounce.” Another huge roar broke the silence and the two ton predator crashed through the foliage and raced straight at Wilson and Amanda.

  “Oh fuck!” she said and snatched at her side arm. Wilson reached over and held her arm down.

  “Handguns just piss them off,” he warned her. From two sides men opened up with their assault rifles. The Komodo sloth looked like a giant howler, right down to the six legs and basic proportions. The two forward eyes, bigger and more advanced she would learn later, were fixed determinedly on the target. The two smaller rearward eyes swiveled sideways and watched the men who were now firing at it.

  The gunfire was aimed just behind the rudimentary rear eyes. Careful dissection of the first two specimens showed where the animal’s brain was located. Their skulls were heavily armored from the front while the side bone was thinner. They raked their bullets from front to back along its skull, bone and blood exploding into the air. The bullets found their mark and the charging monster jerked, crashing to the ground. One man stepped in and fired several shots at point blank range into its spine, right behind the head. Amanda made a face which Wilson noticed.

  “Even with the brain dead they can be dangerous,” he explained.

  “Primitive nervous system,” she said. “I’d like a specimen to examine more closely.” In the lull between the first attack and the arrival of the second monster one of the men trotted up with their new ordinance. The rifle was almost too big for one man to carry. It sported only a five round magazine and the bullets were longer than a man's hand.

  “Hurry up, son, here it comes,” Wilson warned as the forest went quiet.

  “Haven’t shot one of these in some time,” the man explained as h
e locked its breach open and quickly stuffed massive bullets into an empty magazine.

  “Give it to me,” Wilson said impatiently and reached for it. The man surrendered the weapon without complaint as the Komodo sloth roared and burst from the tree line much closer than the previous one.

  “Ammo,” Wilson hissed. The soldier stuffed a final round into the magazine and slapped it into his commander’s hand. Wilson cocked the gun’s butt on his hip with his left hand as he took the magazine in his right, slapped it against his helmet to seat the rounds, and then smacked it home in the magazine well. With amazing self-control in the face of a charging dinosaur, he transferred the gun to a right-handed stance, swept the bolt forward, released the safety and put the weapon to his shoulder.

  The animal was only twenty feet away when the huge rifle gave its answering roar. The recoil was enough to make Wilson take an involuntary step back, and the muzzle blast knocked Amanda’s beret from her head. The bullet smacked into the sloth between the front set of eyes, the impact a powerful thump that Amanda felt in her solar plexus. Most of the head exploded like a meaty hand grenade, and the beast fell like a marionette having its strings cut. It slid to a stop in the sandy soil less than a foot from their boots.

  “Hail to the chief!” one of the men yelled and they all cheered. Wilson handed the weapon back to the soldier who had been about to use it.

  “Practice with that weapon soldier, but do not expend any ammo.” The man nodded and ejected the spent cartridge. “And police that brass. There’s no way to know if we’re going to get any more of that kind of ammo.”

  “Nice shot, Colonel,” Amanda said as she retrieved her fallen beret and swatted it clean on her fatigues.

  “Thanks sergeant. You can have that one as a specimen,” he said and gestured at the dead lizard. “We’ve got enough cooked up for a few weeks anyway. See if you can figure out what makes them tick. I’m tired of sleeping with my gun like it’s a girlfriend.”