Wormholes (22 page)

“A
lpha to Control. Target surfacing!” Gerald’s voice echoed in his own helmet’s headphones. He could also hear his own heavy breathing, as he crouched in the artillery carrier’s cramped passenger compartment. A deep gut-shaking rumble rose outside, penetrating even the carrier’s two inches of steel. The rumble rattled the twenty-two-ton vehicle like a toy, but the driver, Clark, sat imperviously in the driver’s seat, his gloved hands firmly gripping the controls, scanning the instruments and peering out the front slit. Clark, the squat, solid ex-army officer, only cared about fulfilling his mission, and Gerald was thankful for that. He scanned his own instruments that told him of the dish’s status. The electronics gave him a peculiar sense of security. He’d buried any fear under his excitement long ago. This was an encounter he’d never dreamed of. The paper theories about the wormholes were real, and one of them had roared to deafening life outside.

The magnetic capture display told him the dish was working, and the radar screen pinpointed the hole’s location. Peering over Clark’s shoulder through the slit, he could see the inward rush of debris marking the huge swirling disruption a thousand feet away. But a building partially blocked his view. Then the building disappeared.

“Bravo, look outside!” he shouted over the shriek of twisting metal. “Can you see it? It ate a building in front of me! That’s a steel warehouse! Still can’t see the thing clear, though. Lotta stuff flyin’!”

“… see it a little bit,” he heard Dacey say over the radio, above the thunderous noise.

“Alpha, you’re twenty yards too far south.” Mullins’ voice from the control van was thick with excitement. “And you’re too close. Avoid the crater it’s making!
MOVE! NOW!
”

“Okay, Andy, I see on the display,” shouted Gerald. Behind him, the five-hundred-horsepower diesel engine growled to life. Clark jammed the controls in reverse to back away. If they fell into the chasm the wormhole ripped in the earth, it would be all over. They had to catch it aboveground, or to attract it there. “In transit,” said Gerald.

“We got slammed by an incoming,” shouted Dacey. “Damned big chunk of steel! Rang our bell!” Gerald caught his breath. He was more afraid for Dacey than for himself. Somehow, he felt immune. He’d already trapped this hole into another universe in his web of equations. He knew this thing. He understood what it would do. But Dacey had only that incredible, brash self-confidence to protect her from utter panic. Fortunately, the driver of the other carrier, Herndon, was as rock-solid as Clark.

“Are you operational with that hit?” asked Mullins, who had joined Cooper to manage the capture. “You want vehicle Charlie to take over?”

“Negative, Control, my readouts look okay. Can you get a visual on me? From one of the helicopters?”

“Nobody can see zip, Bravo. We’ve gone totally to instruments. Dacey, can you see anything out the front slit?”

“I can see my capture dish. It’s got some flutter, but it looks okay.”

“Guys, I’m activating your capture dish fields. We’re on computer now. I can’t believe this luck … that the target surfaced. Watch your displays. Move like the computer tells you. And damned quick. And keep the hell away from that hole!”

“Okay,” said Clark. “On track.”

“Roger,” said Herndon. “Come to mama!” Herndon was clearly exultant at the greatest adventure since his tank-driving days.

“Good … good … good.” Mullins’ voice rose in pitch with each word. “Radar says the target’s right between you. It’s just floatin’ there maybe ten yards from each of you. Can you see it?”

“Hell, no!” Dacey spat.

Gerald smiled at the lilting sing-song way Dacey had answered. He knew it was something of a front. “Same here,” he replied, trying to exude the same bravado.

“Gerald, if it looks like it’s gonna come in and give you a kiss, just reverse out,” she said.

“Bravo here. First kiss I ever backed out of.”

Mullins’ voice came on the radio. “Everything’s stable. Fields are just real fine. Move forward.”

“Damn! I’m hittin’ turbulence! I can hardly breathe!” Dacey’s voice was tinged with fear.

“Put on your mask, Dacey.” Gerald felt the violent shaking, too, as if a giant fist had begun pounding the carrier. The atmosphere grew thin, as if the air was trying to escape the fury. He snapped on an oxygen mask. So did Clark.

“Am I stable? Am I stable?” It was Herndon’s voice in his headphone. “I feel like I’m skiddin’ forward! I’m blind out here!”

“Bravo, you’ve got it by the shorts!” Mullins answered. “Don’t give up now!”

“Really appreciate the cheering section, Control,” shouted Dacey.

“Forward ten yards. Both of you,” shouted Mullins.

A screaming wail rose, as the hole rose into the clear atmosphere, its maw sucking in only air. An ear-splitting whistle rose as the tortured air streamed into the hole.

“Son-of-a-bitch! My ears!” yelled Clark. “I see it! I see it! Jesus!” It was the first time Gerald had detected emotion in Clark’s voice. Out the front slit, Gerald saw a vague, round blackness floating ahead of the vehicle, chunks of concrete and earth leaping into it.

“Incoming!” shouted Herndon. “Shit! I—”

“Bravo, just keep going forward,” said Mullins. “Alpha, go three degrees left!” After a long moment, Mullins asked, “Are your dishes in position? Are the docking probes in position?”

“Affirmative,” said Clark. Gerald felt the vehicle suddenly lurch forward, sliding downhill into the crater the hole had excavated. “Whoa, mama!” exclaimed Clark. “I’m gonna need new tires!”

“Bravo, you copy?” asked Mullins.

Nothing but static.

“Bravo?
Bravo
!?” Now with more urgency.

Still no reply from Dacey or Herndon. Gerald peered intently out the slit. Through the tornado of swirling dust, he could barely see the other carrier. “I think Bravo’s antenna got sheared off. She can’t hear you. But she’s still in position.”

“Mag field’s still okay,” reported Mullins. “Move to close on target. Alpha! Do you hear? Move to close!”

“Roger, closing!” Gerald riveted his attention on the radar screen. He couldn’t tell! He just couldn’t tell what was happening! Clark jammed the carrier’s gear controls back and forth and jerked the steering lever, trying to keep the bucking vehicle lined up. He leaned forward and looked through the slit at the huge capture dish. It was vibrating, but solid. The blinding dust abated for an instant and Gerald could see the other carrier, still sitting unmoving. Dear God, had they been killed? Suffocated? Killed by a piece of steel penetrating the armor? His heart pounded violently.

“Bravo’s not moving! Dacey doesn’t answer.” He tried to calm himself. He wouldn’t do her any good by panicking. “But we can compensate, I think.” In front of him, Clark nodded his helmeted head and slammed the controls, to make the carrier back away so he could start another approach.

They eased forward in the blinding dust, the deafening shriek. The heat became stifling in the small space. The other carrier still sat immobile.

The dishes met and the debris became a circular ring of inrushing dust around the edges. Gerald held his breath. What if a chunk of debris lodged between the spheres? A chunk of rock did catch for a moment. Then it was gone and the dishes slammed together. His instruments registered the closure. “
CAPTURE DISH CONTACT!
” he shouted, feeling his vocal cords nearly snap. “
WE’VE GOT INITIAL SEALING! IT’S STILL LEAKING VACUUM! JESUS, WHAT A NOISE!
”

“Engage your capture latches!” Mullins shouted. Gerald could barely make out the words over the scream and the growing static in the headphones.

“Roger. Okay.” Gerald flipped switches on a console and leaned forward to look out the slit. He could see nothing from his angle. He found himself holding his breath again and forced himself to inhale. If the latches didn’t engage, they were trapped with the ultimate deadly tiger by the tail. Abruptly, Clark gave a gloved thumbs-up sign. “
ENGAGED!
” shouted Gerald into the microphone.

“Bravo, you copy?” Mullins didn’t attempt to hide his alarm. “Alpha, what’s happening with Bravo?”

“Her latches aren’t engaged. Hasn’t moved.” The seal still had not been made and Gerald could still hear the high-pitched hiss of leakage.

“Shit, we’re gonna be stuck here with a half-assed capture,” said Clark, his low voice that of a soldier preparing to die.

“Can’t you signal?” asked Mullins. “Clark, can’t you signal?”

“How? You want me to go topside and fuckin’ wave? Wait … wait … I can see his latches engaging!
THEY ENGAGED! WE’RE DOCKED! LOOKS SOLID!
”

Gerald reined in his excitement. He scanned his gauges. The magnetic fields were all stable. The hole was not moving inside the sphere.

“Okay, guys,” Mullins gasped in relief. “Target looks stable in there. By God, it looks stable! Alpha, set your controls, climb out and go find out about Bravo. Then everybody run like bunnies!”

Gerald whipped off his seat belt and tore off his helmet. He slammed open the overhead hatch and scrambled out onto the top. Clark followed immediately. Before them rose the huge sphere formed from the two dish halves, a frozen vapor condensing on it. The sphere vibrated as if it caged a monster that struggled to escape, but it appeared to be holding … for now. Gerald peered beneath the sphere across to the other artillery carrier. No movement.

Then the hatch opened and he glimpsed Dacey pulling herself out, throwing off her helmet, and leaping lithely off the side. With a triumphant whoop, he jumped down from the carrier and they embraced as tightly as either of them ever had. Clark and Herndon followed, shaking hands and cursing jovially. The generators mounted on the vehicles hummed steadily, reassuringly. But they reminded the celebrants that one tiny glitch anywhere in the system and the beast would free itself and devour them and their vehicles. So, they quickly inspected the sphere, set up a monitoring video camera, checked the generators, and scrambled away over the wasteland that had once been Manitowoc, Wisconsin.

G
erald picked his way among the rubble that was once a town, stepping over a twisted steel girder and across a shattered brick wall. He carefully aimed the video camera as he went, transmitting his progress. He breathed heavily, even though the exertion wasn’t extreme. This was it. He would be the first to really see the hole. It seemed to draw him toward it as if he, too, were affected by magnetic fields. But he knew it was his curiosity that attracted him toward the deadly captive object.

He heard the drone of the diesel generators before he saw the two converted artillery carriers. He skirted a mound of shattered concrete bristling with rusted fingers of twisted steel rebar, and the carriers came into view. They sat amidst a broad, flat depression that had been scoured clean by the hellish gale created by the hole. The carriers held the Lexan sphere, its surface thick with a white crystalline frost. The ice sparkled in the sun, periodically sloughing off onto the ground, forming a rapidly melting pile of slush. It seemed almost a religious object, a shrine for some scientific pilgrims.

But the generators had only an hour’s worth of fuel left. So, he increased his pace, jogging toward the frosted sphere, tripping once on the stub of a street sign that had vanished into another universe.

The monitoring video camera had still showed the sphere holding firm against the vacuum. But it was Gerald’s job to decide whether the transfer could continue. He insisted on going in alone. Dacey had persuaded him that she would drive him in the army Humvee within a thousand yards, but he made her stop at a safe distance. If the hole escaped its magnetic trap and sliced through the sphere, no rescue was possible. Helicopters — military, police, and television network — circled in the distance like buzzing insects in the clear, blue sky. They could all see him well, so his death, if it happened would be carried live around the world. He didn’t let himself think of that. His job came first.

As he approached the carriers, he perceived another sound beneath the generators’ roar — the rich resonant hum of the confining magnetic fields. He brought up his camera, transmitting a second video picture of the capture sphere back to the control van, to be relayed to the world. He walked closer, setting the camera on the battered deck of one of the carriers and pointing it at the frosted sphere. He moved toward the sphere. He
had
to be the first to really see the wormhole.

He stepped close to the sphere and reached up. He smiled in amazement. His breathing grew more rapid. He felt its frost-covered surface vibrating fiercely beneath his hand — maybe from the magnetic coils, maybe some cosmic effect new to science. He figured that the sphere was so cold because heat was radiating through the hole into space on the other side.

The other side! Just feet away lay the cold vacuum of interstellar space, perhaps of another universe! Excitedly, he scraped away some of the frost and tried to see in. He could just make out a region of utter darkness wafting back and forth inside the sphere, but it was indistinct. Even the sphere’s supertough Lexan had been abraded by the vicious bombardment of debris streaming into the hole. He was disappointed. He would have to wait for a clear view until the hole was transferred to the large vacuum chamber in the desert.

Inch by inch, he meticulously inspected the sphere’s surface, its latches and seals, and the magnetic coils surrounding it. It was holding firm, he decided; the transfer could take place. As he worked, he couldn’t resist touching the sphere again and again, feeling it shiver, feeling the numbing frigidity beneath his fingers.

He radioed the control van and within minutes, a bulldozer appeared, shoving its way through the rubble, clearing a path to the sphere. It departed and a flat-bed trailer truck appeared, fitted with a generator, a crane, and a steel-girder frame that would accept the sphere. The truck backed into the depression up to the sphere and Andy Mullins jumped down from the passenger side. Clark stayed in the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the steering wheel, in case a quick escape was necessary. The wide-body Humvee, driven by Cooper, careened into sight and swerved up close to the tractor-trailer. Dacey leaped out of the passenger seat, stopping reluctantly and making a frustrated face when Gerald held up his hand pleadingly for her to stay a safe distance.

“Okay, let’s set up for switchover.” The short, round Mullins grinned like a kid who’d just been handed the keys to Disneyland. He plugged computer and power cables from the trailer into the sphere’s magnets and tested them for a firm contact. Then Clark, Mullins, Gerald, and Dacey climbed into the Humvee.

“What’s it like? What’s it like?” Dacey demanded. Gerald shook his head and smiled at his inability to describe the sight. She smiled back in understanding as Cooper expertly gunned the vehicle through the cleared path a mile away to the control van. There, they crowded into the van and watched the swarthy, skinny Julio, who was Mullins’ chief technician, run tests of the connections to the sphere, and type in a final command to the computer.

“Okay, let’s see if we can switch over faster than this thing can react,” said Julio. His finger poised over a red button on the control panel. “Countdown to switchover five, four, three, two, one,
zero
!” He hit the button. They stared at the computer screen, which displayed a diagram of the magnetic fields, the sphere, and the hole.

“
STILL GOT ’ER!
” shouted Mullins, clapping his pudgy hand on Julio’s shoulder. Instantly, they clambered back into the Humvee and sped back to the site. As they neared, Cooper slowed the vehicle to give them a chance to make sure that the switchover had been complete.

“Sensors can lie,” he declared. “Nothing like first-hand observation.”

The sphere was intact.

Clark and Herndon arrived in a Humvee, and they all worked to attach the truck’s crane to the sphere, ever-so carefully hoist it into the trailer’s frame, and bolt it securely. Throughout, the sphere hummed like a huge hive of bees, vibrated fiercely, and shed clumps of white frost, as if it were struggling to free itself, seeking the smallest flaw in their trap.

After checking the status of the computers and power, Gerald gave Clark a thumbs up, and he revved the truck’s engine and eased slowly away. Gerald stood quietly and watched it go, hearing sirens rise in the distance. The truck would have a clear road along the entire freeway leading to the nearby airport, with a phalanx of Wisconsin state trooper squad cars leading the way. It would roll onto a
C
5
-A
cargo plane for the trip to Nevada. There, they would perform one more field switchover into the huge vacuum chamber, and their captive would be secure. Then they could begin to fathom its mystery.

• • •

“Damn, let’s just go on up there and see the thing for ourselves,” said Lambert, standing impatiently in the blockhouse in the Nevada desert, his arms folded, watching the wall-sized video screen. The sphere was being slowly lifted from the truck, which had backed up next to one of the giant vacuum chambers.

“No,” said Gerald with absolute finality. For once Lambert said nothing. This was Gerald’s show. Lambert knew that if it was successful, he could announce
his
triumph to the media. If not, it was Gerald’s failure. Still intent on the monitor, Gerald continued. “I put that vacuum chamber two miles out in the desert for a reason. Until we know how these things react, only a few people are going near them. You can watch it from here.”

Instead of replying, Lambert barked an order to his assistant, who sat in a rear observation gallery with four other Lambert men, to bring his plane around. “I’ll be leaving after I get a look,” he said. “If all I can do is watch television, I might as well be in Houston. Hell, I can see this on all the damned networks, anyway.”

George Voigt sensed Gerald’s frustration. “It’s a wise move, putting the chamber out there … limiting access,” he said reassuringly. The spare old doctor sat in a chair at the main data console, where he would monitor the vital signs of the first space-suited people who would enter the vacuum chamber to actually encounter the hole. “You have the firmest grasp of the theory,” George had told him. “You’ll be more effective watching the data come in; figuring out what’s happening. Let Brendan and K.C. do the reconnoitering. They can handle this sort of thing.” He’d also persuaded Gerald to keep Dacey, and the criminalists Cameron and Gaston, in the control room, much to their frustration.

Brendan Cooper and K.C. Wang had campaigned mightily to be the first ones to enter the chamber and attempt to traverse the hole.

“Whoever goes in there had goddamned better well have experience operating under pressure inside an isolation suit,” declared Cooper. “And there’s no bigger pucker factor than being inside an aluminum deep-dive Hardsuit at two thousand feet. Both K.C. and me have done that. You also better have a situational awareness from being inside a suit or you’ll be not only merely dead, but really most sincerely dead,” he said puckishly quoting from the
Wizard of Oz
.

Gerald had reluctantly agreed, and as Cooper and Wang prepared, Julio and the Deus technicians performed the perilous maneuver of moving the wormhole-containing sphere into the vacuum chamber. They had swung the massive steel doors shut, and evacuated to a safe distance. From the blockhouse, Mullins threw the switches to evacuate the chamber and open the sphere, unleashing the hole to float free inside, suspended only by the chamber’s magnetic fields.

“Oh, my God!” Dacey exclaimed at the first sight over the video monitors of the hole, floating free.

“Goodness,” said George. “Are those stars?”

“Yes,” said Gerald. His heart pounding, he steadied his hands by placing them on the console, as a wave of emotion swept over him. He felt tears welling in his eyes and glanced up to see lines of wetness on Dacey’s face. When he had begun this obsession, all had been cool mathematical theory. But then came the excitement and utter fear of the hunt and the capture. But throughout, even after its capture, the holes had been only vague shapes, whether devastating a city or trapped inside the sphere.

Now, floating before them on the screen was a wormhole in astonishing crystal-clarity. A shimmering sphere ten feet in diameter, it hovered in the middle of the chamber, with faint swirling auroras of glowing light playing about its edges. It drifted slowly back and forth, like some predator seeking an opening to attack.

From inside the sphere shone stars. Not the faint, twinkling stars seen from earth, but icy points of intense light set against absolute blackness. Gerald broke the stunned silence that had blanketed the room. He spoke softly, reverently. His words were pragmatic, but those who heard him knew that they marked a portentous beginning for humans, perhaps of destruction, perhaps of a new millennium.

“Let’s give it some time. Check the parameters. Then go in.”