Infinity's Gateway, page 3
The admiral had no idea what was coming next. To his way of thinking they had just crossed over to the world of science fiction. He half expected Patrick Stewart to walk into the room dressed in a tight red and black shirt, closely followed by Worf and Mr. Data. Or maybe his alarm would start to ring, and he’d find this had all been just a bad dream.
“I’ll give you what we have been able to pull together so far,” answered Captain Ramirez. “Much of the science we’re talking about here is still theoretical. But based on the data that our satellites were able to capture, there is the possibility that this hole potentially leads, or opens, to other dimensions. As I understand it, years of study have been given to this line of thought by many prominent physicists. It is called the many-worlds interpretation.”
“Many-worlds interpretation,” repeated the admiral. “Parallel dimensions? What’s next, Captain, is Doctor Who going to show up with his phone booth?”
Without thinking, Miller interjected, “Actually, he’s just called the doctor.” And she bit her lip.
Her remark broke the tension and the admiral stifled a laugh. “Okay, someone made a special effect. They no doubt wanted us to see it. Great psy-op, so why are my senior officers running to the least likely hypothesis?”
“Sir, during the seventeen minutes in which this event occurred, we had close to three hundred other anomalies reported by various people in and around the area. Ships and planes with compasses pointing in odd directions, radios suddenly filled with static, we even had a ham operator in Fort Lauderdale who claims to have received “alien radio” signals. There’s also a seismograph reading showing a tremor in the region. All began and ended with this gateway closing.”
“Oh, it has a name now.” The admiral’s voice had turned cold again. Anyone who had served with him knew this tone. They also knew that it was never good to be in the vicinity of the admiral when it showed up. “Regardless of the really bad idea of personifying a possible natural phenomenon, tell me why this is a military issue. Why is your team focused on this instead of NASA or NOAA? I’m sure it’s all very interesting, and men in white lab coats may end up building careers on this, but a natural phenomenon is not our problem.”
“It’s not a natural phenomenon. Admiral, one of my technicians said it best. Miller?”
The young lady, still embarrassed at her Dr. Who remark, said. “Admiral, a uranium atom decaying normally is a natural phenomenon. Several billion of them decaying under forced conditions is Hiroshima.”
Then there was a pause.
“Okay, let’s say it’s not a natural phenomenon, that someone out there is controlling this thing. Who would that be? I sincerely doubt it’s the Russians; they’re behind us on almost everything from military aircraft to toasters. That only leaves the Chinese and they’re too busy trying to steal our stuff.”
Ramirez said very carefully, “The energy required to do this is probably not possessed by any nation or corporation. If so, it would be the kind of leap achieved by the Manhattan Project.” Ramirez paused long enough to clear his throat before continuing. “Although at this point we do not have anything to definitively tie the two events together, an analyst at the NSA did offer an observation. On December 5th, back in 1945, the navy lost five Avenger torpedo bombers off the coast of Florida. Their disappearance occurred, geographically, in roughly the same place as the object our satellites picked up.”
In a flash Admiral Fairfax saw his career ending. This was it. Not Islamic terrorists, not the Chinese, it was going to be the Weekly World News. He could see his picture in the checkout lines with a fuzzy map of the Caribbean behind him with a dark triangle pointing north.
“That’s enough, Captain!” barked Admiral Fairfax. “Getting questions from our elected officials about the Bermuda Triangle is right in line with the disappointingly low level of expectations I hold for them, but I will not tolerate this kind of nonsense from the best trained people in the world.”
“Sir, the NSA analyst wasn’t just speculating. As I stated before, the many-worlds interpretation has been seriously researched for years. There are many books and papers out there, all written by experts. By taking and using the data we have just collected, he is saying that there is enough here to suggest that the concept of interdimensional travel just might be possible. Accepting that as a working hypothesis would provide an explanation for many of the craft that have gone missing in this part of the ocean.”
Admiral Fairfax was close to losing it. Did he really need to explain to Captain Ramirez that the whole myth about the Bermuda Triangle had been framed years ago by a simple newspaper reporter? Charles Berlitz! He hated the man. Atlantis, the Bermuda Triangle, the Philadelphia Experiment, it wasn’t real, it’s tripe, they’re all works of fiction.
Then it dawned on him as to what he’d just said. He was indeed arguing with the best trained, most intelligent people in the world. None of them would jeopardize their reputations if they didn’t firmly believe that they had the data they needed to back this theory up. Ensign Miller was staring at him, dying to say something.
Taking a deep breath, he managed to keep his emotions in check. Looking at Ramirez, he said, “Captain, being the one with the privilege of giving this report to me couldn’t have been easy. As always you were direct and to the point. I appreciate that. Continue to work with your team and let’s see what they finally determine to be the cause behind this. I’ll expect a full report from you tomorrow morning at 08:00 in my office.”
“Yes sir, I’ll be there.”
To the men and women who had watched all of this he nodded and said, “Carry on.” Admiral Fairfax then left the intelligence center and returned to his office. Not a deeply religious man, he breathed a silent prayer that they were wrong. They had to be.
CHAPTER 2
It had been a miserable night for Admiral Fairfax. As the hours dragged on, his mood became progressively worse. Years of experience had taught him that nothing this big could have been kept secret, it just wasn’t possible. Word would have leaked out, even if only bits and pieces. A capability this advanced, this game-changing, could simply not remain hidden. Especially when you consider the multitude of intelligence agencies constantly prowling even the most remote back alleys of the world. Today’s technology had taken espionage to another level, making it extremely difficult to hide anything, particularly something of this magnitude.
Yet the reality was that something had happened, and that something was very real. Multiple satellites had recorded the event, an event that so far defied any reasonable explanation. Worst of all, it had occurred uncomfortably close to the Florida coast. For anyone to have launched such an event this close to US territorial waters was in and of itself a pretty audacious thing to do. It was also terrifying.
When he was a kid, his father, Captain Fairfax, had drilled into his head the fact that Florida was in danger. The Russians were in Cuba. His grandfather had commanded a carrier during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Now there was this. But this was not how things were supposed to work. Rather than an elite team at the Pentagon working off solid data, it should have been some farmer in Pine Fart, Arkansas seeing a UFO at three in the morning with no radar traces and no sober witnesses. The fact that this event had been so blatant, so in their face, it opened up possibilities that he didn’t dare consider.
There were two more items that made him sick to his stomach. This event had been quite public. That meant aerospace companies knew. Academics knew, each inside his or her area, although the meteorologists were probably not talking to the physicists yet. It meant Britain and France and China and Israel and Brazil and Saudi Arabia knew something. And secondly, thanks to the internet, and all the things people had access to, everyone from teenage hackers in Ohio on up to other intelligence agencies in the US probably had knowledge of this. And each would have a desire and a spin to deal with the news.
If he hadn’t divorced Carolyn, or, more accurately, if Carolyn hadn’t divorced him, she would be telling him to get to bed. Lately, more often than not, he found his thoughts going back to when he was married. Truth was he missed Carolyn, missed her terribly.
Despite the confusion and the frustration, Admiral Fairfax had never been one to sit around and wait for developments. Immediately after his meeting with Ramirez, he began to consider the various scenarios they might be facing. Once he had these roughly sketched out in his mind, he then began to determine who he could get to take the lead on such a sensitive operation.
What was that story about Miller? He began googling many-world interpretation, then M-theory. There are eleven dimensions now? What happened to four? Then black holes and white holes and Hawking radiation and “arrow of time.” He broke into laughter, “Lions and tigers and bears, oh my.”
With operations such as this, there were several risks to be considered. In all probability, this would most likely turn out to be a total waste of time and money. If so, while it would be difficult to explain the loss of said time and money, he knew that that could be easily handled. It was the other end of the spectrum that had him worried. Something like this could also be the precursor to war.
“Do you have an update on Commander Colton?” snapped the admiral, speaking into the intercom on his desk.
“Yes sir,” Lt. Commander Flanagan replied. “He’s expected to arrive in twenty minutes.”
“Good,” said Admiral Fairfax. “Have him brought directly to my office.”
“Yes sir.”
Should worse come to worse, Fairfax knew he’d need a highly trained individual whose loyalty was beyond question. He needed a leader, a man who could follow orders, and yet wasn’t afraid to do whatever was necessary to resolve a situation. Brett Colton was the first name that came to mind.
While Colton had extensive combat experience, he was best known for his intelligence work. He’d successfully led several black ops missions comprised of SEALs, CIA, and Naval Intelligence personnel into some of the most dangerous parts of the world. He was as cunning as he was lethal.
Fairfax hit the intercom button on his phone and said, “Flanagan, we have much to do. Please join me in my office.”
Lt. Commander Flanagan was a young officer with a promising career. Now in his early thirties, he’d served as an aide to Admiral Fairfax for almost a year and a half and fit into life at the Pentagon better than many of his peers. Standing in front of the admiral’s desk he asked, “How can I help, sir?”
“I believe the USS Eclipse is docked in Baltimore. As quickly as you can, I need a complete status update on its crew and its readiness to set sail.”
“I’ll get that together right away. Is there anything else sir?”
“Yes. I need to talk to Captain MacKay. Please track him down and get him on the phone for me,” answered the admiral.
“Yes sir, will do.” With that he turned and left the admiral, closing the door behind him.
Fairfax had met MacKay a few times and genuinely liked the man. Not only was he completely dependable, but the man could also think on his feet when things got rough. Although his true rank was commander, he carried the title of captain, as far as the public was concerned, being the captain of the Eclipse. The Eclipse, to say the least, was a very unique ship, especially considering the equipment it carried.
The USS Eclipse was an old World War II destroyer that had been rescued from salvage and refitted as a research vessel, supporting various kinds of oceanographic studies. On paper the Eclipse was owned by a private US corporation. That corporation helped to fund many of the research missions that were usually cosponsored by organizations such as National Geographic and various universities. But that was only its cover.
Operating far under the radar, the USS Eclipse was easily the most advanced research ship of its kind, housing the most current, state-of-the-art equipment, manned and maintained by the US Navy. But what made this ship especially unique was that it housed Argos.
Argos was perhaps the most closely guarded secret in the US military. Years earlier Admiral Fairfax had tried to explain Argos to a congressional budget committee without giving away too many details to a bunch of transient politicians. Keeping it as simple as possible, he described Argos as being a massive computer, loaded with the most sophisticated artificial intelligence available. Its capabilities were nearly endless, and it could run completely independent of any other systems. At sea, or while in port, Argos had its own twenty-four-hour marine security team.
Named for the hundred-eye titan of Greek mythology, it was a combination of linked quantum computers and a vast self-configuring neural net. It could handle regular computation needs at 418 petaflops per second (118 more than the official speed of the world’s fastest supercomputer). Argos boasted a neural net that could analyze data like the brain of a young child. It contained artificial curiosity and could correlate more than 665 billion events a second. The admiral had not shared these incredible details with Congress, a body well known for its inability to keep a secret. He could hear a senator beginning his speech with, “I ain’t sure about teraflops, but back home we’ve got plenty of cow flops.”
Argos could pull together weather reports, decades of newspaper stories, data from every satellite in the sky, and computer uses all over the planet in seconds. It could watch the Armenian stock exchange and daily experiments at CERN at the same time. One of the scientists that designed it (although Argos had been on its own design team when it reached 30 percent capacity) said that it could even dream. It was created to look for patterns that humans would overlook and then test out hypotheses a million times faster than humans could. There was nothing else on earth even close to Argos.
It had only been about ten minutes when the admiral’s door opened, and Lt. Commander Flanagan came back in. “Here are the crew files for the Eclipse, as well as the most current maintenance reports. Captain MacKay is updating the ship’s readiness report as we speak,” he said, laying the files on the admiral’s desk.
“Thank you, Flanagan. Where is MacKay now?”
“He’s in the briefing room just off the bridge of the Eclipse. He’s waiting to talk to you. Shall I transfer him in?”
“Please do. Well done, Lt. Commander.”
The briefing room on the Eclipse, like Admiral Fairfax’s office, was a secure location, which meant that even the most sensitive information could be shared without fear of it being intercepted.
Admiral Fairfax picked up the receiver, “Good morning, Captain! Sorry to get you up so early.”
“Unfortunately, I was already up, Admiral. My conscience won’t let me sleep in like I used to.”
Fairfax laughed at that. “Too many of us suffer from that ailment. Captain, I’ll get right to the point. We have a rather serious situation on our hands and we’re going to need to respond to it immediately. I’ll bring you up to speed, at least as much as I can, then I’ll let you get started coordinating with all that’s being set in motion.”
“Not the first time I’ve received this kind of call, Admiral. We’ll make sure that the Eclipse is ready when you are.”
The call continued for a little more than thirty minutes. He gave MacKay a broad overview of what they were facing but provided few specifics. As Admiral Fairfax hung up the phone, he realized that he was feeling better now than he had for the last twelve hours. Whatever they were facing, he was going to meet it head-on.
The CH-53E Super Stallion helicopter had no sooner touched down when the door was opened by a marine MP. Colton stepped out, returned the young corporal’s salute, and followed him inside. “I’m to take you directly to Admiral Fairfax’s office, sir,” he said.
Colton smiled and said, “This must be serious, I usually don’t get door-to-door service.”
In his early thirties, and just under six feet tall, Colton’s physical appearance could be quite intimidating. Due to the kind of missions he typically commanded, he made it a point to stay in top physical condition, but it was more than just his broad shoulders and rugged features that put people on edge. There was an air about him, a self-assured confidence that let people know he was not someone to be taken lightly. Colton had bright, piercing blue eyes that seemed to be able to drill into a person’s soul, eyes that missed nothing. The small scar over his left eye accentuated a sense of danger.
For the past two years Colton had been working out of the Indian Head naval base, not too far from the Pentagon. He’d been on his way to his office when the MPs tracked him down. They quickly ushered him into the helicopter, letting him know that he’d been ordered to report to Fairfax immediately.
The urgency of the situation, however, wasn’t all that unusual, and in an offbeat way, he found it mildly amusing. The term “emergency” in Washington was broadly overused. A fender bender with a Russian diplomat did not merit a military response.
Yet, over the past few years, in Colton’s opinion, the world had been on a downward spiral, with new enemies popping up almost daily. Considering those circumstances, Admiral Fairfax was the right man to have at the helm. Colton liked and respected the admiral, having worked a few assignments for him before. As flag officers go, Fairfax had kept his ego in check, and kept the best interest of his sailors in the forefront.
When they got to the admiral’s office Colton thanked the MP and went inside. He was met by Lt. Commander Flanagan who got up, saluted him, then shook Colton’s hand. “My apologies for the way you were rushed over here, Commander, but I’m afraid this is rather urgent.”
“Of course, it is,” said Colton, the trace of a smile on his face. “The last time I got whisked away to the Pentagon it was also critically important. If memory serves, a congressman had gotten so drunk that he’d left his yacht running, staggered across the dock to the parking lot, and proceeded to pass out in his car. When he woke up, his boat had sailed off along with his girlfriend, a guy who worked at the marina, and a briefcase full of classified documents regarding diplomatic protocol procedures. Yeah, that was some emergency.”
