Charger the Soldier (11 page)

"I think so."

The professor smiled wryly. "I hope you are.
Only my brightest students would sit still and listen to me. The
rest of them were more interested in frat parties, or just getting
away from the sound of my voice droning on."

With seventeen hours to kill, he might as
well listen to the old man. Besides, this theory of a dual universe
sounded interesting.

"All right. Then I would draw a third circle
inside the second circle. When civilization ignites a big bang
event, we find that a third balloon is created. A third balloon
cannot exist, however; so what happens is that all the matter from
the outermost balloon is forced, through the explosion, into the
empty space created by the third balloon, thus always creating the
two in-balance universe states, one of light, one of dark, one
positive, one negative, one of matter, one of antimatter. This
continues infinitely, for the two universe states are always in
balance, like yin and yang."

"I see," Ben prompted. What the professor
said seemed logical, but whether it was true, he had no way of
judging. He had never studied science. Only faith, which was dead.
"But wouldn't a big bang happen naturally?"

The professor shook his head. "No, it would
have to be a civilization which caused it, for nothing in our
universe could naturally cause that type of event. Only meddling
fingers and minds could create this type of catastrophe. That is
why I believe CERN, The European Organization for Nuclear Research,
should have been stopped."

"But I thought CERN was a good thing," Ben
protested. "Doesn't it use particle accelerators and high energy to
experiment with particles? Isn't it probing the fundamental nature
of the universe?"

"Oh yes, it's doing all of that. But humanity
must come to understand that at some point in the future, it will
inevitably discover the ability to ignite another big bang event.
In our hurry to learn the mysteries of the cosmos, we may
inadvertently discover the pin on the hand grenade of existence,
and rush blindly into disaster."

Ben found himself inexplicably shivering.
Then he forced himself back to calmness. They were flying to the
United States, an ordinary sort of thing to do, and tomorrow he
would be searching for work where his talent at research might be
useful. In the meantime, this conversation was better than worrying
about his future. "But we don't know that there is life on other
planets and we can't see another universe."

"Do you have any idea how enormous this
universe is?" the professor said sharply. "Even with our
sophisticated telescopes, we can see only a little." He paused for
a moment. "When we look through the Hubble telescope toward the
center of the universe, we see the light from the big bang we live
in, an explosion caused by a civilization so advanced that they had
the ability – through creation or mistake – to restart the
universe, but in its opposite charge."

"I wish we could see more," Ben said. Oddly
enough, he did wish that. Perhaps because he was freeing himself
from the bounds and prejudices of the church.

"So do I. If we had a magic spaceship to
travel to the center of our universe, we'd find a negative universe
forming, one we couldn't survive in because we would be the
antimatter. And, if we traveled outward to the rim of our visible
universe, we would again encounter the negative universe and again
be annihilated. But we might see that negative universe shrinking,
or receding into the formation of the new universe being created at
the center of our known universe."

"I'd go up in your magic spaceship," Ben
said. "I'd be scared shitless but I'd go. I'd like to see what's
really there."

"And what you would see," said the professor,
"is that both universes look the same since both are just a
formation of particles. But our instruments would find the place of
opposite-charge particles. The idea that we exist on a membrane in
a multiverse is almost right. But instead, we live inside the
expanding balloon and the membrane is the edge of the expanding
universe we occupy."

Ben nodded. "If you say so. It sounds
plausible. But I don't think my brain is capable of comprehending
the vastness of space. To me, Earth is almost too big to
comprehend."

The professor nodded. "I understand. So I
will finish my little lecture the way I always did for my students.
Our universe is one of only two that can ever exist. We are simple
humans living in a world of opposing forces, tugging at our very
existence. Thanks to science and human curiosity, we rush into a
future that we can't predict, which may be bright or may cause our
demise. And, thanks to religion, we live in a world that stagnates
our ability to think, our ability to grow."

The professor fell silent for a few moments,
then said, "Do you follow football?"

Relieved that he could let his mind relax,
Ben said, "A bit."

The conversation was confined after that to
sports and the weather in Turkey, interspersed with naps and the
occasional stroll up and down the aisle to stretch his muscles. In
spite of that, Ben was feeling very stiff and tired and looking
forward to disembarking. He was sure the professor, with his old
bones, felt much worse.

The pilot made an announcement. "Attention,
passengers, we have been asked to land at Los Angeles International
airport rather than SeaTac in Washington. There is no reason for
concern, and arrangements will be made for all passengers to be
sent to their respective destinations as quickly as possible after
we touch down."

Conversations resumed among the passengers up
and down the aisles. No one seemed concerned about the
situation.

Then the plane shuddered, suddenly banked
sharply and dropped like a stone toward the ground. Passengers
screamed as it pitched and rolled. A flash of intense light burst
past the windows, followed by several loud booms. The plane shook
and rattled violently. It pitched up, then plunged straight down,
spiraling as parts of the hull and the wings broke off. Several
seats, with people strapped into them, tore loose and tumbled out
into the sky.

The pilot managed to correct the plane's
descent just long enough to belly-land the stricken craft on a farm
field, spraying the air with dirt and debris. Like a held breath,
there was silence for a moment. Then came the whimpers, sobs, and
panic-stricken screams.

When Ben came to, he found that he and the
old professor were still strapped into their seats together, and
had been thrown some fifty feet from the wreckage. Struggling to
disentangle themselves, they discovered they had survived with no
injuries beyond a few bruises. Finally, free, they set out to help
as many of the others as they could. It did not take long for Ben
to realize that the disaster was far from being over. In the
distance, thunder rang out, and though the skies were clear, it
seemed to be drawing closer.

"Dear God, what the hell is that?" Ben cried,
gasping in horror.

Across the fields, what looked like many
small tornados dotted the horizon, and a dark greenish mist rolled
across the ground toward them like a blinding desert dust storm.
Wicked streaks of light flashed from the mist, darting in every
direction. Even more unbelievable, between the plane's survivors
and the impending storm, were hundreds and hundreds of cars and
trucks rushing along the road near the downed plane in a desperate
attempt to escape.

Many failed. The tornados swept up cars,
trucks, and the people inside them, and whirled all into oblivion.
Where the crowd was thickest, a large jagged spike burst upward
from the ground to about sixty feet in height. People scattered to
get away from the spike, but they had only gained perhaps twenty
feet when the thing was activated. Hooks attached to tentacles shot
out from the spike, and struck fleeing people in the back. Thirty
or more humans were thus instantly paralyzed and the spike began
spinning clockwise, drawing the victims back toward the rotating
machine. With the victims drawn up tight to the spike, it gave a
shudder and plunged back into the ground.

The survivors around the wreckage of the
plane now left the wounded where they lay and bolted, hoping to
escape the onslaught. Ben and the professor helped a couple of
women as they made their way, running and tripping, toward a town
that lay on the other side of the fields.

Darting all around the four, as they fled,
were thin steel rods, seemingly self-controlled, flashing through
the air and destroying everything they crashed through, vehicles as
well as people.

The professor called out, "Here, inside this
tavern!"

They struggled desperately to get inside,
while around them, cracks opened up in the streets. The two women
hesitated, staggered as if off balance, and were sucked into the
ground. Only Ben and the professor made it into the tavern.

>>>

Ben had already decided that the only
sensible thing to do was hide and he didn't object when the
professor tugged him into a broom closet at the back of the tavern.
If the strange weapons couldn't see them, perhaps they would stay
safe.

Dr. Opinhimmer kept talking. Ben didn't pay
much attention. He was trying to move stuff out of the way and pull
the door of the closet shut.

The old professor finally shouted, "I don't
think you understand what I am saying here! If I die, so do all the
people of this world. I am the linchpin, the fulcrum that may tip
the balance of life. Without me, this place as we know it will
cease to exist. As life drains from me, all life ceases to
exist."

"Just a bit dramatic, don't you think, Prof?"
Ben grunted.

A startling apparition appeared in the gap
between door and doorjamb. It was shaped like a small human but
looked like a moving, quivering column of liquid, refracting light
so that what might be a solid core appeared to shift back and
forth. Behind it loomed several more such beings. Desperate, Ben
drove his buck knife into what he hoped was the creature's neck.
Liquid spurted everywhere, but the creature kept pushing into the
closet.

Now Ben could see eyes, multi-faceted
gold-colored eyes, like those of dragonflies. Terror drove him to
attack with all his strength and he jammed the buck knife into one
of those eyes, twisting the blade. The eyes went dark and the
creature collapsed right at his feet. Now Ben was able to slam the
door shut.

This created a frenzy of noise and pounding
on the other side. Ben could only conclude, as crazy as the idea
seemed, that these creatures were aliens and that they'd never
encountered a door before and didn't know how this simple wooden
object was preventing them from killing the two humans.

"Not so dramatic, my friend," the professor
said, clinging to Ben's shirt sleeve as if that were the only thing
between him and total panic. "I have information this world needs
to defeat these beings."

Ben kept trying to move the professor farther
back into the broom closet so that he had room to move. He fumbled
for the light switch and turned it on to reveal the carnage at
their feet. "Woo hoo, that's a very dead alien," Ben said to the
professor, his flippancy designed to cover the horror he felt. The
light showed that the professor's face was gray and seemingly ill
from the sight of fresh death.

"Don't you puke in here," Ben snapped, "or
I'm going to open this door and toss you out."

The professor regained his composure or at
least swallowed any vomit that might be forming in the back of his
throat. The scratching and clawing and smashing on the other side
of the door dropped off suddenly and Ben felt confused as well as
terrified.

Bang! A thud so hard upon the door that the
hinges and Ben's chest reverberated with the impact. "Shit," he
snapped. "Move, Professor, let me past you for a sec." Clearly the
professor did not want Ben to move behind him and leave him to face
whatever had just hit the door. Shoving the professor aside, Ben
slid his ass down to the floor and, bracing his back against the
wall, stretched his legs out and slammed his feet against the
bottom of the door. He did not have to wait long for the next
impact. Bang!

"Get down here and give me a hand, you fool!"
Ben yelled.

The old man complied and they both braced
their feet against the bottom of the door.

Bang! Small splinters of wood from the
shattering door fell to the floor. Bang! What sounded like the loud
rumbling of a diesel engine starting on a cold winter's day came
from beyond the door, intensifying Ben's fear. The sound of wood
cracking became louder. Boom! The top of the door split open and
large splinters fell to the floor.

A long, metallic, snaking object entered
through the crack, forming spikes along its length. The limb became
rigid and smashed into the one light, sending glass and ceiling
debris everywhere. The room went black.

Ben felt as if his heart had stopped beating
as silence followed the shattering of the light bulb. Beyond the
door gunfire erupted; not the automatic gunfire of the military,
but from a hunter's rifle. The long, spiked tentacle was slowly
withdrawn from the closet, and new sounds indicated that the aliens
were moving off in the direction of the gunfire.

"What do you do for a living?" the professor
asked.

What an insane question! Ben thought. But it
had broken the tension and he was breathing again.

"Are you a boxer or some kind of kung fu
fighter?" the professor persisted. "Maybe you're ex-military?"

Maybe the old boy had snapped. Better just
answer him and see if that would keep him quiet. Relaxing and
rubbing his legs after the ordeal of holding the door firmly shut
against the pounding of the aliens, Ben answered. "I was a monk, in
Anatolia in Turkey." He could not quell the sad note in his voice.
"I left the monastery when my faith in God was destroyed by what I
learned from some old manuscripts I was translating."