Bridgers 3_The Voice of Reason Page 5

  Armando got up and walked to the door. He paused with his hand on the door knob. “Perhaps we can discuss this further when you and Desmond return from bridging ST5.” He turned and leveled his gaze at her. “You are going to return, are you not?”

  “I haven’t found a world that can beat me yet.”

  He opened the door and stepped out. “That’s the spirit, kiddo.”

  5

  Bio-probe

  September 1 - 10:39 PM

  Desmond stared at Infinity, who was sitting across from him in the grass on the training lawn behind the SafeTrek building. “You think he’s seriously considering it?”

  She nodded, her features illuminated by the green glow of an immense aurora borealis in the night sky above. “I could see it in his eyes.”

  Desmond struggled to digest this news. He had wanted his mom to believe he and Infinity would become part of a refugee colony, but he hadn’t actually thought it would happen. The possibility was exhilarating. And gut-wrenching. “What about Colony ST7, or ST8?”

  “You and I can’t do it all. We can’t keep bridging over and over at this pace. It will kill us both. Armando’s going to recruit some new bridgers. Besides, do you really think there’s going to be an ST7 or ST8?” She glanced up at the brightly-lit night sky.

  Desmond gazed up at the aurora. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen, even in photos. Green streaks of light shimmered from horizon to horizon, so rich in various hues that they were beyond beautiful—they were downright terrifying. As if affirming his fears, the ground began trembling. The horizon to the east suddenly glowed orange. The orange grew in intensity and then quickly faded, followed seconds later by a low boom that echoed through the surrounding hills and off the backside of the SafeTrek building. Something massive must have exploded.

  Infinity was right. The SafeTrek facility had proven itself to be strong, but it wasn’t indestructible. At any time there could be an earthquake strong enough to destroy it. Four of the six other bridging facilities had already failed. The building might not even last long enough to bridge out all of Colony ST5. Not to mention ST6 or beyond.

  A thought occurred to him. “What happens if the bridging device is destroyed while we’re still on the excursion helping ST5?”

  She shrugged. “No one knows. It’s kind of a bridgers’ myth that you would die when the thirty-six hours is up. But most likely, we simply wouldn’t bridge back.”

  A much darker thought occurred to him. “So we don’t really know if these colonies of refugees even continue living after the thirty-six hours. They may all die the moment we bridge back.”

  “That has occurred to me,” she said. “But it would mean we’re doing all this for nothing. So shut the hell up.”

  He looked at her, but she was staring up at the green sky without expression.

  “Fair enough,” he said.

  She scooted over between his legs and leaned back against his chest. Still staring up at the sky, she sighed. Desmond hoped it was a sigh of contentment, but something about it suggested sadness.

  After several minutes, Desmond glanced at his phone. “The bio-probe will return in ten minutes. I guess we should go inside.”

  “Didn’t you just agree to shut the hell up?”

  10:57 PM

  The moment they walked into the bridging chamber viewing room, Desmond knew the conversation wasn’t going to be pleasant. Because Reece Eagleton was there. Infinity hated the man. Desmond found him unpleasant but knew he was just doing his job. Armando Doyle was also there, as well as the reps for Colony ST5, Andrea and Gavin. Surely their presence would help keep the peace.

  Celia’s voice sounded over the comm system, “Three minutes.”

  “We were beginning to wonder if you intended to join us,” Eagleton said to Desmond and Infinity.

  Infinity surprised Desmond by ignoring Eagleton and turning to watch through the window of the bridging chamber.

  Desmond decided he would take up the slack. “The only reason we’re here is to learn at least a little about what we’re getting into next. We assume you’re going to insist we bridge the colony regardless of the results of the bio-probe.”

  “Well, you’re half right,” Eagleton replied. “If the test animals come back dead, with telltale signs of an inhospitable environment, we’ll scrap that world as a possibility. But we’ll still begin bridging out Colony ST5 at midnight.”

  This was too much for Infinity. “It’s bad enough you’ve already eliminated the assessment excursions—you intend to bridge 718 refugees without even doing a bio-probe?”

  “Bio-probes take thirty-six hours,” Eagleton said. “It’s a luxury we can no longer afford. This will be the last bio-probe we conduct.”

  Desmond tried to swallow but found it difficult. Instead, he cleared his throat and started talking. “Mr. Eagleton, I assume you’re aware the Bridging Center Code of Operation was created by the combined intellectual efforts of ethics and human rights experts from fourteen countries. The Code of Operation was signed by the leaders of all fourteen countries, including President Millwright. Section 39, devoted to ethically responsible risk avoidance, states, ‘Due to inherent uncertainties regarding physical, geologic, climatic, and biological parameters, no human excursion will be allowed without adequate measures assuring a reasonably safe and habitable destination—e.g., a bio-probe meeting or exceeding guidelines as detailed in Section 14.”

  Eagleton furrowed his brows at Desmond.

  “Uh, Desmond has a rather unique, photographic memory,” Doyle offered as explanation. “And he does make a good point.”

  “Photographic memory is a myth,” Desmond said, not sure why he was even bothering to explain, considering the bombshell announcement Eagleton had just dropped on them. “I happen to be good at committing certain things to memory.”

  “Regardless,” Eagleton said, “the Code of Operation became null and void the moment we learned the human race was going extinct.”

  “One minute,” announced Celia.

  Desmond turned to Infinity, and she met his gaze. This seemed like madness—bridging a colony without a bio-probe or assessment excursion. If they survived this excursion with colony ST5, the next excursion would be to a completely untested world where they intended to live out the rest of their lives.

  The uncertainty and finality of it was terrifying. So they both silently turned to the bridging room and waited.

  Suddenly the plexiglass window bulged out briefly. Twelve test animals appeared in the center of the bridging chamber, dropped to the floor, and scattered in panic. They were all alive. The airlock door opened and white-clad techs with various probes rushed in to capture the animals and take measurements.

  Desmond scanned the panicked creatures, looking for injuries or other signs of a harsh environment. He noticed nothing unusual. But then his eyes fell upon one of the medium-sized creatures. It was hunkered against the stark white wall, and two of the techs were standing there staring at it through their bio-suit faceplates. The creature was about the size of one of the cats, or perhaps one of the rabbits. But it wasn’t a cat or a rabbit.

  Armando Doyle pressed the button to turn on the comm system. “Report please. What is that thing?”

  The two techs nearest the creature turned and surveyed the chamber, presumably counting the other animals. Finally, one of them said, “No idea, sir. But we’re missing one of the cats.”

  “Then it has to be the missing cat,” Doyle said, impatience in his voice. “It’s impossible for it to be anything else.”

  One of the techs reached for the animal and picked it up. The creature struggled and let out a warbling shriek that sounded like no animal Desmond had ever heard. The tech approached the viewing room window, holding the creature at arm’s length. “See for yourself, sir.”

  Desmond and the others stepped closer to the plexiglass. The creature was definitely not the missing cat. Its skin color was somewhere between green and aqua blue, and it had
a gray belly. It was hairless, of course—the bridging process guaranteed that. But the pattern of pale stripes on its back made Desmond think it must have been naturally hairless. A long, prehensile tail had coiled around the tech’s arm. The creature had six long legs, one pair attached at the back hips and two pairs closer to the shoulders. At the end of each leg was a hand with four long, slender fingers. The animal’s head, about the size of a cat’s, was as round as a tennis ball, and two small, black eyes glanced back and forth, looking warily around the room. It shrieked again, and for an instant Desmond thought the thing was actually trying to talk.

  “What in the name of God?” muttered Andrea.

  “That’s impossible,” Doyle said. “The only thing that can bridge back is the body tissue of the cat.”

  “It’s clearly not a cat,” Desmond said.

  “But it has to be,” Doyle insisted. “How….”

  Infinity turned from the viewing window. “Am I the only one here who sees the more disturbing question? How can a version of Earth that diverged only 150 years ago have a creature that looks like that thing?”

  The room was silent for several long seconds.

  The tech on the other side of the window said, “Sir, what would you like me to to do with this thing? It’s trying to chew through my glove.” The creature was growling and grunting as it chewed. Its long tail released the tech’s arm, whipped about in the air for a moment, and then wrapped around the tech’s other arm.

  “I have no idea,” Doyle said, shaking his head. “I guess take it to the quarantine lab. Keep it alive, if you can. We’ll figure out what it is later.” As the tech headed for the airlock, Doyle muttered, “It has to be the cat’s body tissue. Nothing else is possible.” He turned to face Infinity and Desmond. “It just doesn’t make sense.”

  Gavin cleared his throat. “I certainly don’t understand either, but we’re scheduled to bridge our first group in less than an hour. We chose a world with a divergence of only a 150 years because we have no intention of roughing it in the wilderness. We intend to negotiate with the human occupants of the world so that we can become a useful part of their society. If this creature really is the same one that departed here thirty-six hours ago, as you say it must be, then that convinces me the people of our destination world have some kind of advanced biological technology. An advanced society is exactly what we are looking for. Mr. Eagleton here tells us that we can bridge either to the world you just bio-probed or to another randomly-selected world. Personally, I prefer to stick with this world.”

  Andrea said, “I suppose I agree, considering the two choices we’ve been given.” She turned to Doyle. “I have no idea what that creature was, but I suppose Gavin could be correct—it may indicate a technologically-advanced destination world. Not only that, but I’ve felt two tremors in the last hour. I agree that the urgency of our situation precludes doing another bio-probe. And so I also agree with Gavin that our best chances are with the world we’ve already probed.”

  Before anyone else could speak up, Eagleton clapped his hands once and said, “That settles it then. Mr. Pushing and Ms. Van Loon, prepare your people. Mr. Doyle, prepare the bridging device.” He then turned to Desmond and Infinity. “Bridgers, shall I assume you’re on board?”

  Desmond met Infinity’s gaze. She shook her head slightly, obviously as confused as Desmond and Doyle were about what they’d just seen. She turned to Eagleton. “Do we have a choice?”

  “Of course,” Eagleton replied. “You can choose to resign your responsibilities. In which case I’ll have you both escorted off SafeTrek property.”

  “Then I guess we’re on board,” Infinity said.

  11:51 PM

  The first eighteen members of Colony ST5 filed silently through the airlock into the bridging chamber. They gathered around Desmond and Infinity as if they thought they’d be safer just being close to the two bridgers. Doyle’s assistant, Celia, followed them in, carrying an armload of clear plastic bags for their clothing.

  “As you’ve been told,” Celia said to the refugees, “your clothing and hair will be stripped away during the bridging process. If you wish to remove your clothes now, place them in one of these bags.” She held the bags out, but not a single refugee took one.

  “We’re not coming back,” a woman said. “So it doesn’t matter what happens to my clothes. I prefer to retain my dignity.”

  The other refugees nodded in agreement. Desmond felt a twinge of the angst these people must have been feeling. They were leaving their world forever, without knowing what awaited them. On the other hand, he and Infinity had taken their doses of technetium-99m, the radioisotope tissue marker that would allow the bridging device to pull them back to their own version of Earth after thirty-six hours. This was a one-way trip for the refugees.

  Desmond and Infinity glanced at one another, and then they both removed their clothes and placed them into bags. They handed the bags to Celia.

  “We’ll do the last-minute instructions, Celia, if you don’t mind,” Infinity said. “Please record the next five minutes and play the audio back to each group following us.”

  Celia nodded. “Understood.” She went to the airlock and then turned back to face them. “Good luck to all of you. In the bridging world, we use the term “neverland” to describe a beautiful and hospitable destination world. May your new home be a neverland.” She then stepped through the airlock and closed the hatch.

  Desmond scanned the refugees’ faces. The eyes of at least half of them were glazed over and bloodshot. They had obviously drugged themselves up, even though they’d been told specifically not to. This group was clearly a different mix of people than the last colony he and Infinity had bridged. Most of the people here appeared to be within ten years of the upper age limit of sixty. And according to Andrea and Gavin, all 718 members of ST5 were people of influence. Some of them were obviously pushing the upper weight limit, and most were in questionable physical condition. Apparently the selection process was relatively relaxed when it came to the wealthy.

  “You have chosen a divergence of only 150 years,” Infinity said. “So it’s likely you’ll get what you want—a world very similar to ours, with a society that is also similar to ours. But keep in mind that the SafeTrek facility is positioned in a fairly remote region of Missouri. It was built here intentionally, to allow research of alternate evolutionary timelines. So even if your new world is almost identical to ours, we’ll likely find ourselves far from the nearest town. We will almost certainly be in a forest like the one surrounding SafeTrek. How many of you have been naked in a Missouri forest at midnight?”

  After several seconds of waiting, nobody had raised a hand.

  “Well, it can suck,” she said. “Ticks, chiggers, and mosquitoes. And if you start wandering around in the dark, you could fall into a ravine. The plan is simple. We bridge in, we move to the side of the bridge-in site to make room for later groups, and we wait. The next group will arrive an hour later, and the next an hour after that. You will sit together on the ground and wait. If it’s cold, huddle up. Sunrise will be at 6:40 AM. By that time, we’ll have almost 150 people waiting. Once the sun comes up, we can assess our surroundings.”

  Gavin spoke up. “Actually, if there is evidence of a farm or town nearby, we’d prefer to approach them immediately. We’ll explain what’s happening and convince them to call the authorities and have buses or whatever type of transportation they have available come and pick us up. We are going on the assumption that people will accept us and provide us with clothing and shelter.”

  Infinity frowned and shot a glance at Desmond.

  “Gavin,” Desmond interjected before Infinity lost her temper. “There are more things wrong with that assumption than we have time to discuss. Keep in mind we’ll be bridging in at midnight. You can’t—”

  “Damn right, you can’t,” Infinity said. “I don’t care who you are or what you think is happening here, but for the first thirty-six hours, until your
entire colony has bridged in, and Desmond and I are gone, you’ll follow every goddamn order we give you.”

  “Three minutes,” Celia said over the comm system.

  All eighteen refugees were staring at Infinity, some of them nodding in compliance, some glaring as if she had no right to speak to them that way. A few stared with drugged grins, unaware of or indifferent to what was happening.

  “We’re here to help you survive the first thirty-six hours,” Desmond said. “We’ve only bridged one colony before this, but none of those colonists would have survived without Infinity’s leadership.”

  “We heard at least two hundred of those colonists died before you even bridged back,” one of the men said.

  Again, Desmond exchanged a glance with Infinity. She just shook her head.

  “All 718 would have died without Infinity,” Desmond said. “Look, we hope this world is exactly what you want it to be. But you have to follow our instructions and allow us to do our job.”

  Infinity stepped forward. “Have we made ourselves clear?” With her brows raised, she waited several long seconds before continuing. “When we bridge, you’re going to drop several inches to the ground, so hold your legs apart, bend your knees slightly, and put your arms out for balance, like this.” She demonstrated. “Everybody give it a try.”

  The refugees followed her lead, spacing themselves out for room.

  “One minute,” Celia announced.

  Desmond said, “We’ve found that with groups this big, people usually become disoriented and fall to the ground. And it doesn’t help that you’ll feel like you need to throw up for a minute or two after bridging. When the nausea passes, calmly get to your feet and help each other up.”

  “Thirty seconds.”