The Temporal Knights (3 page)

“I have a feeling that boredom and cabin fever will make exercise very enjoyable,” Matt answered. “And since I am the Commander, and the officer in charge of entertainment and psychological well being, I’m pleased to tell you that we will have millions of movie titles stored in our computer’s hard drive, along with the entire contents of the Library of Congress. We’ll be
taking nearly every book known to man. We will also have regular classes, learning everything from second and third languages, to astronomy and physics, and basic mechanical repair. The Skawp’s quantum computers can store a massive amount of data and we have loaded nearly everything ever known to man...and everything ever known to the Skawps. The amount of information is staggering. We’ll study the Skawps, deciphering and reviewing what the computers translate. We will keep busy gentlemen. Our years in space will not be wasted time. Are there any other questions?”

There were none, mainly because the men were so committed, but also because none of this was a surprise. There were very few secrets in a community of less than a thousand souls, especially when everyone was working for the common good. They all knew the options and they all volunteered for the mission. Each had their reasons. If the trip through the Door was successful, they could have chosen to stay and live out their lives with some sort of normalcy, but it would not have been their world, nor would they ever conquer space and travel to the stars. Who knew what the future out there might hold? It was enough to lure even the most unimaginative man.

“Dismissed then,” Matt said. “Get your gear and personal effects ready. Gary, I want you to make the final checks on the ship. We move through the Door in exactly,” he continued, checking his watch, “T-minus 10 hours and 12 minutes. I want to have everything ready and waiting exactly eight hours from now. Everyone will report to the ship at that time.”

It took Matt only about fifteen minutes to pack and prepare to leave, that left seven hours and forty-five minutes until he was needed at the ship. It seemed an eternity. He dropped down on his bunk and tried to sleep, but in less than ten minutes he was up again. He couldn’t seem to drive away the thought that human beings would soon be extinct on Earth...at least on this Earth. Frustrated, he paced his quarters, then on impulse he rummaged through his pack and pulled out a picture of Cindy, his wife, and his two kids, Shelley and little Matt. He sat and studied their faces for a long while, not wanting to forget any nuance. In those first years he dreamt of his family often, cruel dreams full of happiness and love before the scenes morphed into the sickly-sweet smell of decaying flesh and dense clouds of buzzing flies. Most nights he woke screaming out in horror and loss. He hated to dream. In his dreams, his family came alive again in every respect, the sound of their voices and laughter, and the way his kids smelled just out of the bath. Sometimes he could almost feel his wife’s soft breath on the back of his neck as he slept. He hoped he would always remember. Finally he sighed and stuffed the picture back into his bag, checked his watch, took one last look around just to make sure he had not forgotten some meaningful bauble, and then headed down to the ship.

Gary was there and saw him coming.

“You’re about seven
hours early skipper,” he said with a smile.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Well, Murphy’s inside running a diagnostic on the computer and flight systems and Harold’s been puttering around here too,” he added with a soft chuckle. “I guess none of us can get out of this place fast enough to suit.” He nodded to the commotion that was going on throughout the large hangar. Surrounding the ship were Humvees, trucks, and a few half-tracks, with men swarming around them making last minute preparations for the journey. Matt guessed that over half of the installations population was already down in the hangar. He smiled and took a few steps toward the ramp that led into the ship, but stopped as Murphy came running down.

“Good you’re here,” he said grimly. “I just talked to Commander Wilder; it seems the Skawps are a little ahead of schedule. Departure time has been moved up. We leave in two hours.” Just then the alarm sounded and a similar announcement blared over the loud speakers.

“He wants to see you in situation room 102, level B.”

Matt nodded. “Stow my gear will you?” he asked and headed off, not hearing the reply.

Ten minutes later he entered the room and found the Commander alone.

“Ah, good, Major Thane,” he said with a nod and a slight, grim smile. “Is your team ready?”

Matt nodded. “Yes Sir. We could leave now if needed.”

“Yes, that seems to be the consensus, but I’m afraid Lieutenant Cummings needs a bit more time to reroute our energy needs. But he will be ready in just under an hour, so be set at that time just in case,” Wilder said. “Come walk with me,” he said moving out of the room. Once in the hallway they were bombarded with official aids coming to the General with last minute suggestions or questions, and it took several moments before they were relatively free.

“I thought you should know that I’ve decided that two volunteers should be left behind to manually detonate the nuke here at the mountain. We’ve erased all possible information about the Door from our computer systems, but the hardware will still remain. I’ve decided that this is too dangerous to leave to automation. We don’t want any clues at all left behind for the Skawps after we’re gone. If the nuke doesn’t blow, they may be able to piece together what we’ve done, where we’ve gone. Christ, the answer to the Door is in their own computers. It’s too important of a job to be left to machines.”

Matt nodded, suddenly sick to his stomach, but aware of the necessity of the situation. It would be a mighty sacrifice for anyone. Wilder noticed his look.

“We have to be sure! The nukes have to detonate! It’s imperative or I wouldn’t ask this of anyone.”

“I know that Sir.”

“Duncan Hoff is one of the volunteers,” Commander Wilder said softly.

Matt’s ears began to roar, and his heart beat wildly in his chest. Duncan had been his close friend since before the first attack. He was there when Cindy and the kids died. They were the last of the pilots from Peterson Air Force Base.

“Carl Knubley is the other...” Wilder said mostly to himself, but Matt hardly noticed.

“You can find them in 22d West,” he added and Matt headed off.

“Major Thane,” Wilder called to his back and Matt turned around, his face frozen in pain. “If there was any other way...” his voice trailed off and Matt suddenly noticed just how much his commander had aged these past few years.

‘God he’s an old man,’
Matt thought, and nodded that he understood.

“I want you on that ship in twenty minutes, Major,” Matt heard as he spun and headed off running to 22d.

“Yes Sir,” he yelled but did not stop and did not turn around.

He burst into room 22d to find Duncan bent over Knubley’s shoulder staring at a computer screen, monitoring the progress of the Skawps against the flamethrowers.

“Man, but they are a stupid lot,” Duncan said standing and catching the eye of his friend. They held the look for a long moment.

“You heard,” Duncan said simply, and Matt was again painfully aware of the haunted look in his friend’s eyes. Duncan had been held out of the fighting for several weeks now. He had that look; the look of a man on the breaking point where he was a danger not only to himself,
but also to everyone around him. It was the look Matt himself would have acquired had the war gone on only a month longer. It was the look of a supremely tired man.

Matt nodded, trying to control his emotions.

“Look,” Duncan started, “it’s not like we were going to see much of each other in the coming years...” He stopped as his throat suddenly constricted. Knubley stood and left the room without a word, only nodding slightly on his way out.

“But why?
You could have a new life...”

“I haven’t had much of a life since Tammy and Suz died,” Duncan replied, suddenly quiet, thinking of his lost family. “I really don’t know what’s been keeping me going all these years, except maybe revenge...and our friendship. But I’m tired,” he added, finally bowing his head, “and I’m empty, and I consider it a huge privilege to explode the bomb that will kill so many of these…bastards. You have your bombs to drop and I have mine.”

“But...” Matt started but stopped as his friend looked up, his face a mixture of resignation, determination and relief. It was the look of a soldier about to make a suicidal attack on the enemy. It was the look of a man ready to die, a man who no longer cared to go on living, just so long as the constant fear and anxiety disappeared with the life he was too tired to protect any longer.

“I’m tired,” Duncan finally whispered. Matt nodded and stepped forward and they embraced each other for a long time.

“You can do something for me though,” Duncan said finally stepping away.

“Anything.”

“When you drop your bombs, tell that bitch of a Queen that they’re a gift from Duncan Hoff.”

Matt was surprised by the fact that he was smiling and even laughing a bit.

“You bet,” he said, and they stared at each other for another long moment.

“You’d better get to your ship,” Duncan said and Matt nodded, his eyes welling with tears he thought he no longer possessed.

“See ya,” he said uncomfortably, and they hugged again quickly this time and Matt started out the door.

“See ya,” he heard as he left.

§

At T-minus ten minutes everyone was in place and most of the sixty vehicles in the convoy were running and ready to depart. Fear was a very real thing, palpable, part of the air around the complex. This was a trip into the ultimate unknown. The space-time coordinates were set and the connection was complete. Lee Robertson and the engineer Cummings were beginning the process of enlarging the Door to a maximum of twenty-five feet wide by thirty feet high. This was a very small space for the vast amounts of energy it required to create, and downright small for the number of vehicles they needed to push through. They would not have a lot of time before the energy supply of the complex was completely depleted. It was a simple question of give and take; the larger the Door, the more energy it used, and the more energy it used, the less
time it could remain open. Even this relatively small Door would strain the maximum capacity of both the main and auxiliary generators as well as the entire back-up battery supply of the facility, and the battery supply was a healthy one, the largest of its kind in the world. But getting through was really the least of anyone’s worries. At the top of that list was; does Door actually work?

At T-minus five minutes it was evident that something was happening. The soft crackle of static electricity and the sharp smell of ozone permeated the room, and a fuzzy distortion appeared in the direction where the Door was supposed to form. Matt ordered the ship closed and sealed, relatively confident. He figured that locked in the ship as they were, his crew probably had the best chance to survive the crossing. If the Door only partially worked and they ended up in deep space, at least they were in a ship, and not in a damn hummer. 

By now all the vehicles were in line and running, holding just over nine hundred and fifty anxious human beings. The twin towing vehicles were the only thing between the alien ship and the Door, so as Matt took his place behind the main console he had an ideal view of the forward hangar. Captain Giles sat on his immediate right, with Lieutenant Wells and Lieutenant Turnbull sitting just behind them. The ship itself was powered down and waiting. Her engines would not be fired up until they reached the other side, and the success of the trip was confirmed.

At T-minus four minutes an announcement blared over the loudspeakers that the Skawps had defeated the automated tunnel defenses. Matt glanced silently over at Murphy, each knowing that it would not matter what the Skawps did anymore, just so long as the Door functioned properly. And it better function on the very first try, because they were out of time.

At T-minus three minutes the power generators for the Door were turned to full and the lights of the complex went completely out for a moment before the back-up lights came on. There was a faint, silvery metallic shimmering hovering in the air as the energy conductors heated up. The shimmering steadily grew stronger. It looked vaguely like the heat waves emanating from a concrete highway on a hot, August afternoon. The far side of the hangar was still visible through the waves, but the view was growing distorted.

“Field integrity at fifty percent,” the loud speakers announced.

At T-minus two minutes the shimmering effect was very strong and an occasional bolt of lightning sliced quickly across from one side of the Door to the other, however no noise accompanied the strike. A dark blue tint was creeping in from the edges of the shimmering Door.

“Field Integrity seventy percent.”

At T-minus one minute the shimmering effect was definitely electric in its movements and beauty. Bolts of electricity were now crossing from one side of the Door to the other with regularity. The dark blue tint covered roughly ninety percent of the Door, and the far side of the hangar was now completely obscured.