by Geoff Wolak
Texas, meanwhile, had the benefit of our cooperation, since they were cooperating with us. They had continued to expand outwards and absorb more land and more states, but had not seen fit to give any powers back at a local level. Power was centralised and strong, a de-facto dictatorship. Canada had grown and done well, Mexico still a radioactive dust bowl, Central America a lawless zone. But Texas was the rising star, now controlling sixty percent of the previous US territory. They had even pinched a bit of Mexico. Parts of Florida were under their control, but the eastern seaboard was still a wasteland.
That wasteland was a densely populated wasteland, in that there were plenty of militias and cannibals roaming around, descendants of those who had survived the war. Any trip to the east by the Texan Army led to casualties, and so trips to the east were not a priority. Drones had been given to Texas to use, and those drones killed feral people on a daily basis, or attacked militias. One such militia around Virginia numbered some twenty thousand men and boys; an army.
The news was full of people returning home, for a few days at least, much talk of new weapons that would protect the linked worlds from attack. That threat had been exaggerated a little, and we all knew that just three ships were now approaching, and then just approaching the Seethan world.
With the media furore easing, it was time to test a portal that used more power than the domestic consumers of New York City combined. The portal rested horizontal in a tall shaft, placed at the top of that shaft, the shaft itself part of a large rail-gun. At the base of the shaft rested a simplistic steam catapult that may have better suited a dated aircraft carrier, and it would start the process of pushing the payload gently upwards. That payload sat enclosed in a giant magnetic basket, magnetic on the outside, not the inside – to protect the payload. The rail gun would accelerate the payload and its magnet to a great speed, air having been evacuated from the shaft ahead of time.
I stood with Jimmy behind a bank of screens at the space centre west of New Kinshasa, late one night, reporters with us. The Moon habitat had been loaded and checked, the steam catapult checked, the rail gun powered up, and the portal was finally opened. The scientists had just twenty seconds to check telemetry. That was done by launching a small probe through, the probe looking for large bright objects that appeared like the Moon. It would report back the position of the portal’s event horizon and, if it was within tolerance, the payload would be launched. On a good day the Moon would appear dead ahead, and today it could be glimpsed on the far left. A ‘go’ was given.
The steam catapult started slowly, but accelerated quickly, the rail gun then taking over. Both magnet and payload passed up through the portal, soon a third of the way to the Moon, the portal shut down. But this particular target Moon was on Baldy’s world, telemetry being passed back via an open micro-portal. With the trajectory tested over many minutes, the payload would be launched from the magnetic basket - with rockets built into the basket, a further boost from the payload itself. That payload was soon on its way to the Moon, manoeuvring thrusters used, a trajectory ahead of the Moon’s orbit chosen. We headed off to bed after thanking everyone.
And that payload, it was thirty-six tonnes in weight, a habitat some twenty yards long, and packed full of supplies. It would now land itself on the far side of the Moon, and someday be used by an astronaut desiring a happy home. Additional habitats and modules had been sent up by the Russians and Chinese on Baldy’s world, and the rockets themselves became the habitats, settling on the Moon close to each other.
Baldy had also been busy with his secret launcher, which made ours look like a toy. His was twice as big, drew more power, and had been launching a habitat or payload every other day for the last six weeks. Unfortunately, Wonder Plastic has been superseded by the EM armour, which would now be used for habitats, since it was not only very strong - but absorbed radiation and converted it into useful energy. The outer layer of the habitats would mostly be that armour, panels now being assembled in a hurry.
Baldy had also beaten us to the first Moon landings, and his world now claimed twenty six people at the Moon base, six months worth of supplies stored. Habitats had been created from Wonder Plastic, the square habitats placed inside, the final section buried under Moon dust. But the important part of Baldy’s project was to do with threatening the Seether, the future Seether. He had sent missiles to the Moon, missiles fitted with EMP pulse weapons, but also missiles with a ground attack capability. He had also dispatched portal technology, launched via his huge underground portal.
Those smaller portals had been assembled and tested, solar panels collecting energy for them. Those tests consisted of launching small probes that scanned Earth for EM signatures and relayed back the findings as compressed data streams. The first test was for 1938-world, the TV news glimpsed as it should be. Next they opened portals to all of the linked worlds, and checked the news. Those newscasts now contained a hidden code, and Baldy’s people knew what to look out for, the code having been placed on Jimmy’s instructions - and in secret.
Baldy had also opened a portal to the Seethan world, and a probe above the Moon picked up crappy Seethan TV, as well as the comm’s traffic that I and the staff used. But, most importantly, he had opened two other portals, and sent through probes and computers. The computers sat on the Moon’s surface and collected data from the probes, the probes scanning the distant Earth. One of those computers sat on a world not previously visited - and exhibiting no EM traffic at all, and one was the world of the future Seether, the frequency that Jesus had used. The computer units on those two extra worlds had been joined by a very small portal, solar powered, just capable of a micro-portal, enough to send a signal.
None of the various portals on the Moon remained open long, that was the whole point, and each would try and dial into the other every day, just for a few seconds. If all was OK, then the micro-portal would close. But if something was amiss, it could have been the result of a traveller altering the past on a particular world.
Each world checked the others, and the others checked that world. If a signal was lost, a portal would be opened at an earlier date, soon stepping through time backwards, and if possible the date of the change would be detected. News channels would be recorded for the twenty four hours prior to that change, and a signal would be sent to people of that respective world, and all other worlds, warning of the change, a warning of up to three months prior to the change.
On the future Seethan world, the signals being monitored were looking for certain keywords, but also scanning for portal activations. Those portal activations could trigger a missile launch, which might knock down satellites, or even nuke a principal city.
Baldy himself had sat watching readouts as Jimmy arrived in the Seethan future - long after Jimmy had returned, Seethan news outlets reporting his arrival. On that signal, Baldy closed the portal, wound back time few hours, and fired the missiles – as he had agreed with Jimmy before Jimmy had set off for that world, and for that particular time – the time set by Jesus at the barn. The missiles took a few hours to reach Earth’s orbit, and to discharge EMPs towards satellites.
Having seen the missiles cause their damage, Baldy now prepared a diplomatic team to go visit the Seethan future, and the Americans on his world created a portal in Denver, after the Seethan newscasts had indicated where exactly Jimmy was, and where the capital was located. The paradox had been completed.
But that paradox, and the missiles targeting the future Seethans, was just part of the plan, and Baldy continued to build-up his Moon base at a pace.
Magestic 3
Copyright © Geoff Wolak
www.geoffwolak-writing.com
Part 4
Is there anyone there?
As part of a new security protocol, all of the various portals on all of our linked worlds would be shut down in sequence at certain times of the day, contact re-established later, and chronometers carefully checked. Open active links would no longer operate, just in case
a timeline was altered. Were we not sure what affect an open link would have on another world, a portal open and in use during a change, and until we did we would shut down and re-open portals, hoping to catch a change if one occurred.
With much to do, I delayed my return to Seether. Additional volunteers returned to us from Jimmy’s old world in the days that followed, or they journeyed to other worlds - and other parts of those worlds, till many of the project workers had dispersed. The hard core of ship builders, those who had created Dark Star, remained in Africa on that world, but a few took much-needed holidays and visited friends. And three scientists, who had flown Slumber’s ship to that world, went back to their wives, no doubt for a serious ear-bashing.
Texas, on Jimmy’s old world, had received a few rail guns, and was building a neutron cannon with our blessing; they couldn’t use it on errant teenagers. The authorities on many worlds now operated advanced scanners, and were all well prepared for any potential stealth ship incursion. Despite the technology, the various portals and Dark Star, Texas – on many worlds - still taught creationism in schools. God created the Earth, all of the Earths, and … the little alien fellas as well.
Dark Star, meanwhile, was still flying round and round the Sun and scanning for unwelcome visitors, three sister ships soon to be ready.
Sandra, meanwhile, had produced six hundred kids in her time in exile, and decided that enough was enough; an operation prevented future pregnancies. Still, we had enough Seethans, more than enough, and each principal nation adopted a few of her younger offspring, many of the adults offered jobs in the various space programmes. But the reason that Dark Star had an advanced AI system, instead of a frozen Seethan pilot, was so that it could accelerate beyond both human and Seethan tolerances, and turn in high-g manoeuvres, again beyond human and Seethan tolerances.
A warning then came. We had sent Slumber’s old ship back to Seether, being flown by a young Seethan pilot. That pilot had flown out of the Earth’s gravity well, and checked his readings. Seems that the inbound ships had used the extra energy they were getting from our Sun’s rays for a little acceleration, and they would land in a month or so; the closer they got to the Sun, the more energy they could absorb. We were now on a war footing, and we had just a month, not three months as planned for.
I rushed over to the Azores on 1938-world, and stepped through to the Seethan world, to be driven around to see Admiral Forrestor in one of our own electric cars – and in brilliant sunshine. I caught glimpses of the coast, brilliant white sand and an azure ocean, mountains and nearby islands, the place reminding me of Hawaii.
The Admiral stood waiting. ‘Great little cars,’ he commented as I emerged, the Admiral and his staff now dressed in their in Navy whites.
We shook hands. I hurriedly began, ‘We have alien craft heading for this planet, and we have four weeks or less.’ That wiped the confident smile off his face. ‘Where can we talk?’
He led me inside his command headquarters, a building that looked like an old school house which had been converted. Cold squash was offered as his men settled.
‘Aliens, eh?’ he let out. ‘And these are not the … funny fish people.’
‘No, these are hostile, and … most likely, they developed the flu virus on this world - and started the war.’ He stared back. I continued, ‘These aliens – called the Zim - come in small ships across space. They land, they assume someone’s identity for years on end, and they change history so that … humans and the like are not a threat to them in the future. We caught one, grabbed his ship, and now we’ve built our own ships - that are similar. In fact, ours would kick the crap out of theirs.’
‘And the reason you’re telling us all this…?’
I took a moment. ‘The ships are heading here, not to one of our populated worlds. And, since we’re busy building up the Seether, we’d rather not fight these guys amongst the Seether.’ I waited.
‘You want to fight them … here?’ Forrestor puzzled.
‘We want to send up a big smoke signal, lots of advanced technology in use, radio signals and radar, so that they’ll be curious - and come here. We can track them, and we can destroy them – we’re sure of that. But, there’s always the chance that something may go wrong.’
‘And we’re expendable,’ the Admiral testily noted.
‘You’re a group of people without friends or support, and our tolerance is finite.’ He blinked. ‘If … you assist, and we fight a battle here, then you’ll have a few more friends, and a little more support. And, between now and the date of any landing, your men would be flat-out busy making ready; new training, new kit, a new outlook and … a new pride and purpose in themselves. Nothing gels men … like a good battle; I know, I’ve fought through a few battles myself, one lasting twelve years. And, as the final sweetener, Mister Silo is working a deal for you and your men.’
‘If … we fight.’
‘There are aliens heading here. Can you think of a reason why you wouldn’t defend Earth, even this scorched Earth?’ I waited.
The Admiral eased back and waved a hand. ‘And this … deal?’
‘That’s between you and Jimmy, and we’ll discuss it after … you prove yourselves. In the short term, we want to start training your men, especially in how to track and shoot at alien stealth craft. Mister Silo says … that afterwards you may all suddenly be gainfully employed - and not just searching islands here.
‘And Admiral, these aliens will probably spot you from orbit, and come have a look anyway. They can change appearance and adopt personalities, so … you may have a problem either way, with or without us.’
Admiral Forrestor slowly nodded to himself. ‘You’ve been about a bit, Mister Holton, I can tell, and you like to go loaded,’ Forrestor noted. ‘Fact is, men are no good sat around, they go soft. Soldiers need a war and … this threat will help to gel the men into units as you say. Even if it was an exercise it would help, but this sounds … well, just a little scary.
‘Like most people, I like a stand-up fight, not some fifth column, so we’ll need to be on our guard, passwords used.’ He slowly nodded his head as he stared at the desk. Raising his head, he said, ‘These four weeks of training, they would entail … what exactly?’
‘Shooting practice, first aid, close quarter battle, security drills, fitness, and using new kit that we bring for you.’
‘And our ships?’
‘Would not be needed. The aliens will land here, and try and assume someone’s identity. They probably have weapons, but that’s not how they work.’
The Admiral took a moment. ‘You know, I knew you guys were on the level when you issued us new with new firearms. And now I know you’re on the level, because you care about the unit’s morale and cohesion. You could have just used this knock-out gas that I heard about from your doctor, or dropped a bomb on us.
‘And you, Mister Holton, you’ve quite a colourful past, as I’ve also been hearing about. As you said, twelve years fighting - against the Arabs with the US Marines. That takes staying power, strength of mind, and some of those Marines you fought with are around here someplace, helping out. By all accounts, they’d follow you into hell. And as for this Silo fellow, I’d be interested in meeting that man, since even the doctors around here would follow him into hell if he ordered it.’
‘He does have … a following,’ I said with a smile.
The Admiral faced his others. ‘Gentlemen, talk to the unit commanders, and from 0900 tomorrow we go on a war footing till this is done.’ He stood, and his officers followed him up. ‘This’ll be the first battle since the war, but I have to admit – we are a little rusty, and not just the ships!’
‘We have four weeks, and we’ll inject everyone.’
‘The wonder drug that makes men indestructible, as well as immortal.’
‘The use of the drug is your choice, Admiral, but it will be available to you.’
‘Should we recall our ships?’ he asked as he led me outside, and into the
brilliant sunshine.
‘They wouldn’t make any difference,’ I assured him. ‘Keep them busy elsewhere.’
Back on 1938-world, my family accompanied me across to Trophy, Susan having waited for me on the Azores with the boys. We reclaimed our house, and I made a few war plans, Toby arriving home a day later.
‘Hello stranger,’ I said, shaking his hand. ‘You’ve aged a bit.’
‘Matured a bit as well, but not much,’ he said with the same cheeky grin. He hugged Susan.
We sat. ‘So, got to fly Dark Star,’ I floated.
‘Yeah, and she’s a beauty. But to start with I spent a lot of time just kicking ideas around with people, and we improved a few fighters.’
‘And … any women in your life?’ I nudged.
‘No, but I adopted a young girl after her family died in a car wreck.’
‘And … where is she?’
‘In college. C’mon, dad, get with the timeline. She’s seventeen.’
‘Seventeen?’ Susan repeated. ‘You … raised her?’
‘I did, and I did a good job; people said so as well,’ he said with a grin. ‘I had a steady girlfriend for a few years, and she helped raise the little trouble-maker.’
‘Oh. And … what’s she called?’ I pressed.
‘Kuku.’
‘An African?’ I asked.
‘Half caste, family were from New Kinshasa.’ I exchanged a look with Susan, Toby adding, ‘Hear you’ve had your hands full as well over in Seether.’
‘It’s coming along, slowly.’
‘Why don’t Jimmy give you pointers, he’s seen how they turn out?’
‘He has made a few suggestions, but left the rest to me. I was, apparently, supposed to do this.’
‘You’ll be there when ET arrives?’