by Mark Wandrey
The work went quickly and soon the dome was home to piles of green marked boxes, crates and bags. When they were ready, she mounted the Portal and turned to the assembled people. The last crate was stacked and everyone was inside now. The dome was as crammed as she had ever seen it, with more than a hundred souls packed ear to ear. Once all eyes were looking at her she stepped backwards, up to the top of the dais. The Portal archway hologram popped into existence causing gasps of surprise.
Mindy could see the full range of human emotions among the people. The fear and confusion of the police officers, the lack of comprehension by the children, and the sparkle of excitement from those who knew what the device was. She cleared her throat and began.
“This is a portal to another world,” she said. There was a single strangled sound almost like a laugh that quickly ended. “It landed here many months ago and the government has been studying it ever since. The other side of that swirling portal is many light years away on a planet in the Bellatrix star system, Gamma Orionis. We know this because there are already a dozen people there, busy working to make a place for us to live.
“We’re not supposed to be here, obviously, and in a short time the government authorities are going to show up and try to stop us. They have been treating this only chance at survival as a tool to gain absolute power. Only the elite and a few laborers would have been allowed to go.” Now there were angry shouts and a few fists shook in the air. “The assortment of worthless equipment and junk they intended to bring with them filled the other warehouses. Only one hundred forty-four people can go through this Portal before it closes, and fourteen have already gone over. Each person can take a total of four hundred kilos, including themselves, through the portal.
“That’s where we are now, and the weight issue is why the children have to go first. After they pass through, we can hand toss crates after them to the people on the other side. The last people to go will need to stumble through with as much as they can carry because there won’t be anyone left here to pass them crates.”
“I’m not letting my little girl walk through that thing and be disintegrated!” cried one mother.
“Me, neither,” agreed a second father and he got ready to leave.
“That is, of course, your choice,” Mindy said somberly.
“But Lebowski will kill you in less than twelve hours if you don’t go with us,” Billy yelled. “So make up your minds, because we can’t waste time trying to convince you any more.” To Mindy’s shock, one family actually left. Luckily, the rest stayed resolute. Regardless of the ludicrousness of the situation, people needed something to cling to, some kind of hope that they could survive, and keep their family alive. Twilight was upon them.
“We’ve got some people coming,” yelled a cop from the big open garage door where most of the green boxes were stacked.
“Get the kids cued up,” she said to Billy and headed for the doorway, “I think I know who this is.”
Four of the cops stood by the doorway in their dusty blue uniforms. Their gun belts had been replaced and they all held automatic rifles. “Halt!” one of them yelled and they all raised their guns.
“It’s Dr. Osgood, you dumb grunt!” called back a familiar voice as Mindy approached the opening. She looked out to see Osgood and a couple dozen technicians, no doubt sent to begin preparations for the official crossing. And sure enough she could hear the increased sounds of machinery at the other warehouses.
“I’m no grunt, and you better stop,” said the black officer as he aimed his weapon.
“I said I’m Doctor Osgood-” he started to say and was cut short as three short bursts of automatic fire hit the ground in front of the advancing scientists bringing them all to a stunned stop.
“What the hell is going on?” Osgood screamed.
“Better just turn around, Doctor,” Mindy said from behind the cops.
“Mindy, is that you? What is happening here? Why has all this equipment been brought down here already? Who are these people?”
“I'm sorry, but it doesn’t concern you anymore.”
“What do you think you’re doing? Hipstitch will be here in a couple hours!”
“By the time he gets here, we won't be.” Dr. Osgood’s expression changed from anger to shock, then to fear.
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Already done, now leave.”
The aging scientist looked around for answers, his expression becoming slightly crazed. “The lady said get moving, or we won’t fire at the ground next time!” the cop said.
“But-” he said and the guns came up a second time. Most of the technicians turned and ran while Osgood stood his ground. “At least let me come in and talk to you?”
“No way,” the cop said but Mindy laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Can’t hurt, let him come in.”
“You sure, ma’am?”
“Yes.”
“Alright doctor, you can come up, the rest of you light out of here.” Osgood turned around and said something quietly to one of the men who remained and then sent them all away.
“Okay, here I come.”
“Nice and easy, Doc,” one of the cops said and then frisked the doctor when he was close enough.
“Mindy, please, this is crazy! Hipstitch will kill all of you!”
“And that is worse than just huddling down and letting LM-245 do the job?”
“No, I wasn’t suggesting that.” He leaned in close. “You have a guaranteed trip over,” he said into her ear, “are these really the people we want to go?”
“You bet your ass they are,” Mindy told him roughly, “and this is the equipment I want to go, not that crap in the other warehouses.”
“This was all debatable…”
“Maybe weeks ago, now time is up. We have to do what we have to do.”
“The kids are ready, Mindy,” said Billy yelled inside the dome.
“Kids?” Osgood said incredulously.
“Yes, kids. A small person leaves a large amount of space remaining for equipment.”
“I suppose that makes sense.”
Mindy snorted and turned to the Portal dais where fifteen wide-eyed children were staring at the huge ghostly apparition of the Portal’s holographic arch. “Just like we talked about,” Mindy said and five burly cops climbed the steps with heavy loads while others began placing more crates within easy reach. The parents of the first child, a pre-teen girl and just about the oldest, hugged her and wiped tears away from her face.
“It’ll only be a few minutes,” the mother assured her. “Remember to move out of the way as soon as you get on the other side, just like Ms. Mindy said, or you could get hit by a crate.”
“Give the commander this,” Mindy said as she climbed to the crowded top next to the child. It was a handwritten note she'd written during the short truck ride. “It explains what’s about to happen and encourages them to help in any way possible.” The young girl accepted the note and turned to face the Portal.
“I-I don’t know I-if I can d-do this,” she said and more tears ran down her face. Mindy stepped close behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.
“You have to be brave for the little kids,” she said to her, “or they will never do it.” The girl shivered and shook her head.
Then suddenly an eight-year-old boy with bright red hair spoke. “I’ll do it,” he said and with a movement too quick to be stopped he took two steps and jumped through the center of the Portal. Many people screamed again, including the parents of the little boy, as the Portal pulsed purple and he temporarily disappeared. A split second later he was there again standing in a scene lit by torches. The towering tree trunk palisade could be seen in the near distance as well as a cabin made of rough cut logs. The boy turned around and waved to those on the other side.
“Brat,” the girl sniffed.
“Your brother?” Mindy asked.
“Of course.”
“Don’t just stand there; get that s
tuff through the Portal!” Mindy yelled and pulled the girl out of the way. The boy on the other side yelped and ran down the stairs on the other side as the first crate flew through and almost knocked him over.
This time a half dozen occupants of Ft. Eden appeared by the young boy. He pointed back through the Portal where Mindy was just visible to them. Mindy snatched the letter she’d written from the girls hands and tossed it easily through the Portal. Dodging flying crates, one of the soldiers climbed steps and recovered the letter. No sooner had he stood up to read it then a big crate bounced off the Portal with a loud thump.
“What happened?” asked one of the sweating cops who’d been lugging crates.
“We reached the weight limit,” Mindy told them. “Just like I said, four hundred kilos per person.” The Portal swirled and closed as the stunned group of first timers looked on. “Let’s give it a minute for them to get organized and then send through the next kid.”
“I’ll go this time,” the older girl announced bravely.
“I want to go!” cried a five year old. Luckily, one of the adults restrained the little boy from diving through without warning and thus wasting hundreds of kilos in essential freight.
“Mindy, we need to talk.” She'd almost forgotten about Osgood.
“I let you in because you’re harmless, don’t get in the way.”
“You don’t understand what Hipstitch is capable of,” he said urgently.
“My best friend in the world was murdered in cold blood; I have a pretty good idea what he’s capable of.”
“That’s nothing,” he said with a slight moan. Mindy wondered why he was so scared of the fat old general. Hipstitch had killed her best friend, the man who'd ultimately broken the alien language. She only hoped he came strolling in just as the last of them crossed over. “He’s a psychopath! He ordered the President killed to try and stop the attack now underway.”
“The President?” Mindy was glad the others were too busy to hear what Osgood had said.
“Killing is something he finds enjoyable.”
“By the time he figures out what has happened, his own death will be all he has left to enjoy.” She turned back to the work at the Portal.
Unnoticed, Dr. Osgood moved to the side and watched them work. They were unpracticed in their efforts, but in a few minutes time they moved all the children and the maximum amount of goods through the Portal. He silently grumbled at the obviousness of using children; it greatly increased the amount of baggage that could cross over with each person.
The last of the young children had passed through the Portal and was greeted by many of the Ft. Eden personnel. The next group began to move up the steps. These were the wives of the police officers and the women from the Portal Project who were too lithe of build to be of much help in moving crates. Osgood saw several of the women were visibly pregnant, then realized this too was an ingenious move. I was stupid; we should just have gotten women from all over the country and made them pregnant with men who were not going. He shook his head at all the lost opportunities. In warehouse two was more than five hundred kilos of equipment containing hundreds of sperm and egg samples being kept cooled by liquid nitrogen. Who needs that when women can carry that material inside themselves for free?
One of the cops had been keeping an eye on the aging scientist but as his wife came over to say goodbye he forgot what Mindy had quietly asked him to do. Osgood didn’t fail to notice the lapse of attention because he causally turned away and produced a cellular phone. He tapped a number on speed dial and waited. The phone struggled for several seconds to find a functioning cell tower in the war-ravaged city. “Come on,” he urged it while glancing at the preoccupied officer.
A half a ring and a voice suddenly answered. “What the fuck is it?”
“We’ve got trouble at the Portal,” he said quickly.
“Osgood? What the hell you talking about?”
“Mindy got it fixed-”
“I know, I just got word from some of the technicians.”
“That’s not the least of it. She’s brought a hundred friends. At this moment they are moving themselves through the Portal!”
“What?”
“You heard me. At the rate they’re going, they’ll be through and the Portal will close in about four hours.”
“That little cunt! I should have had her killed with her fucking hippie friend! What the hell happened to security?”
“Who the hell knows? The fact is our people haven’t even got one truck loaded while Mindy and her buddies are humping it across the stars right now!”
“We’ll see about that!” The phone went dead and Osgood pocketed it with a stealthy move. The cop who had been guarding him looked up just as he was straightening his coat. The man cocked his head and Osgood just smiled at him. Figuring he'd got away with it he just stood there and watched with an affected look of worry, but he didn’t see Mindy looking at him from the other side of the dome. She tapped her husband on the shoulder and gave him the thumbs up. Billy nodded and popped his headset on. He talked to someone for a moment before turning to his wife and giving the thumbs up back. Mindy smiled and blew him a quick kiss before going back to work.
Hipstitch put down his phone and looked up at the tactical map. It wasn’t easy to admit but the fight was lost. The submersible landing craft were a diversion and he obliged by prematurely committing his reserves. While he’d been sending his meager artillery out onto Long Island, three divisions of airborne infantry from Ft. Lagune, North Carolina dropped onto Manhattan and Queens, right into his rear.
“It’s leave now or get cut off from Central Park,” an aide informed him in a somber tone.
“Can 3rd Company move to reinforce our troops here?”
“They haven’t responded since the last helicopter landing on the Upper East Side; we’ve marked them off the board.” On that board a symbol representing attacking infantry units was updated again, and now it was considerably closer to the command post.
“Time to go,” Hipstitch said and got to his feet, “Order all 'A' list units to fall back toward Central Park and form a defensive perimeter. Order all other units to hold at all costs.”
“Yes, sir. Orders are going out.”
“Don’t screw around son, or you’re going to have some explaining to do.”
Hipstitch rode the elevator up to the City Hall lobby and strode out onto the famous steps. The streets were full of smoke and the sounds of battle were growing closer. Right on cue, a platoon of Humvees rolled to a stop and waited while the general and his aides trotted down the steps. As he climbed aboard the middle (and most protected) truck, small arms rounds winged off the armored vehicle. A moment later the convoy started up, weaving through the hundreds of abandoned vehicles between them and Central Park. They wouldn’t get there easily.
“Gunships!” yelled his driver and all the trucks in their convoy began swerving as a flight of attack copters appeared out of nowhere and pounded them with gunfire.
“Get us some air support!” Hipstitch yelled as powerful cannon fire tore the vehicle next to his into flaming scrap metal, flinging its crew all over the road. Farther back in the convoy, a single ineffectual rocket arced into the sky, but it hit the corner of a building and spun away. A second later a round tore through his own vehicle and blew the brains of one of his aides all over the inside of the compartment. “Damn it, get us off the main road!”
His driver abandoned the rest of the column and cut the truck sideways. They crashed into an abandoned luxury car and over a pair or compact cars to end up ricocheting down a trash-strewn alley. Hipstitch craned his neck to see the street behind them awash in flame and explosions as the gunships chewed his column into bloody pieces. Three other trucks made it out behind them and a fourth nearly reached the safety of the alley but was caught by a rocket and flipped end over end.
“Good job driver, keep to the side streets, don’t stop for anything!” Only a few blocks later they came upon a
scene of utter devastation. Several towering skyscrapers had met a terrible end and collapsed onto each other. The mountains of debris extended for blocks in every direction and created a dense haze of dust that kept them hidden from the marauding helicopters. To get back on course would involve using a major crossroad. “Shit,” he said simply, as he wrinkled his nose from the dust that had begun seeping inside his vehicle. Then his cell phone rang.
“Hipstitch.”
“Where are you?” asked a voice.
“This Skinner?”
“Who else?”
“We’re bottled up about twenty blocks from the park,” he said then looked around for a street sign before giving him more specific locations. The line was silent for several long seconds before Leo spoke again.
“Turn east for three blocks,” the other man said.
“That’s away from the park, what good does that do-”
“You want to get to the park or not?”
“Of course I do, damn it, you think I want to die on this doomed world?”
“Then do what I say.”
“How do you know?” Hipstitch demanded suspiciously.
“I can teach or we can do, what’s it going to be old man?”
“Fuck!” Hipstitch barked and slammed a beefy fist down on the Hummer’s armrest. There was nothing he hated more than not being in control of a situation. “Fine, tell me what to do.”
Instructions in hand, Hipstitch passed them on to his wide-eyed driver. The man gulped but followed orders and the diminished convoy spun around to head away from their objective.
They left the collapsed buildings behind and turned on a smaller avenue leading them south for a mile. The street was even more littered with burned out cars and debris. Time and again they had to hang on as the drivers were forced to either crash through obstacles or use the Hummers’ brute force to shove wreckage out of the way.
Finally the convoy shoved its way out onto a main boulevard and darted across as quickly as it could. A flurry of small arms fire ricocheted off the trucks and several dozen people appeared in their path. Many of them held fluid filled bottles with burning rags stuffed in them as they ran toward the convoy.