NOI E-Book

D.X. Wynne

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2013

Beschreibung

Dr. Daniel Two-Moons is in a life and death race against time. The enemy could be in anyone. The Noi, an alien sentient microbial awareness, have been building their numbers for decades and are poised to take over Earth; only a select few know anything about it. A particle physicist, a thief, a covert ops specialist, and an alien from a world laid waste by the Noi, need to work together to save humanity from their relentless machinations.

Leseprobe

D.X. Wynne

NOI

For Samara. A light shining, a hope burning, a future brighter for you in it.BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 Munich

1 – Origins

Harsh, ragged gasps of air, tore through his burning lungs. The muted cracking of rotted branches underfoot, was the only other sound he heard as he raced headlong through the old growth forest. The moisture in the air seemed to dampen the sounds further. He strained to hear the sounds of his pursuers. There were none as yet. He allowed a seed of hope to germinate. Staggering slightly in his near exhaustion, he relentlessly pushed himself on. The sunlight was a rapid dancing ripple across his face, as it found its way through the boughs above him to reach his fleeing form. He swiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm; the sleeve already damp from his exertions. New beads formed immediately, trying to cool his taxed and overheating system.

His heart thudded and pulsed a rapid beat. His every breath was now an agonizing labor. Survival required his persistent tolerance of the pain. He knew he had to stop soon. Escape was part of the plan; but not on foot. Looking around as he ran, he spotted a good place for the quick rest he needed. At the top of a small hill off to his left, was a ring of towering spruce whose branches interlocked and provided a small measure of security from overhead detection. He paused a moment to catch his breath and the fatigue from his efforts washed over him in a wave of gray. Forcing his leaden limbs to move again, he stumbled up to the top of the hill in faltering fits and starts, gasping and wheezing the whole way. He collapsed to the ground in a heap under the cover of the gently swaying branches.

He pulled himself up into a kneeling position with a herculean effort. Placing his hands palms upward on his thighs, he began to calm himself. Every second flying past was crucial to his very survival, and he focused all his attention on steadying his breathing and heart rate. Inhaling and exhaling through his nose, with his mouth shut, in a rapid bellows-like action, his body drank in the much needed oxygen. He slowly began to lengthen each breath. Closing his eyes, he pictured his heart returning to a normal steady rate, and the blood vessels relaxing to their normal resting diameters. Within a minute and a half of focused attention, and increasingly prolonged breaths, he had returned his heart rate to normal, and felt energy flooding back into his tortured muscles.

Renewed, he turned to the task at hand with near machine-like precision. He quickly unstrapped the pack buckled to his back. The nylon polymer of the strap whispered a mild objection as it slid across his arm. Other than the silver of the pack's zipper, his entire outfit was a deep matte black; shirt, pants, boots and the slim pack he had just removed. With deft economical movements he opened the pack withdrawing its singular contents, a slim rectangular black box that resembled a bulky laptop computer. He flipped it end over end in his hands.

Underneath it, clipped into place, was a coiled length of a flexible metallic cable. At each end of the cable was a curious looking jack that was split into four serrated quarters. He slid the three clips holding the cable in place to the side, and removed it with a practiced snap. Uncoiling it quickly, he plugged each end into two small sockets on the top of the box. As he set the box on the ground in front of him, he double-tapped a slight indentation set on the left hand side of the box. There was a faint click as a mechanism inside engaged. A panel slid smoothly out from the front of the device. On its surface were three electric-blue dials. A slight breeze tugged at an errant strand of hair at his temple.

Without pause, he turned the dial on the left as far clockwise as it would go. Immediately the top surface of the box was illuminated by a neon green grid. Inside the squares, the symbols of a standard keyboard appeared in a shimmering silver. He turned the middle dial; again, all the way clockwise that it would turn. This caused a slim panel to rise up from the surface in front of the sockets that the cables were jacked into. The panel was almost as wide as the box and stood four inches in height. It was the same glossy black material as the rest of the device.

WELCOME DANIEL. WHAT IS YOUR PASSWORD? This was displayed at the top of the panel in the same silvery script as the keyboard symbols. A cursor blinked below the W in “WELCOME”. Daniel pressed the space bar and the cursor flew across the panel to rest under the W in “WHAT”. Daniel typed a W and hit enter. The impenetrable blackness of the panel was replaced with a flat map of the Earth, without political boundary lines, yet easily recognizable in its characteristic rich browns, deep blues, and varied green hues. A spidery-thin lattice of latitude and longitude lines could be seen overlaid the oceans and continents, in a light whitish-blue.

At the bottom of the screen in a thin outlined rectangular box, was displayed, COORDINATES?:, with another underline cursor blinking patiently after the colon. Typing the coordinates and touching Enter, took less than three seconds. On the screen, in the middle of the western coast of North America, where Seattle would be, a bright blue spark pulsed. The display text below read, COORDINATES RECEIVED. SECONDARY GATE SIGNALED. SIGNAL RECEIVED. READY TO TRANSMIT. ENGAGE POWER TO PRIMARY.

Daniel turned the third bright blue dial as far clockwise as it would go. There was a loud click of metal being forcefully attracted to metal, and a low almost inaudible hum began to slowly grow in pitch and volume. The metallic cable rose into a circle four feet across, rasping across itself in a silvery slither before rigidly assuming its shape. A faint blue coruscating nimbus limned the outer edge of the cable. Daniel typed one more command, DESTRUCT PRIMARY AFTER TRANSIT, and then touched Enter. He sat down away from the device, with his back against the damp bark of the nearest sheltering tree. Knowing he had at least five minutes before the transmit threshold was reached, he closed his eyes in contemplative reverie of how he had arrived at this particular confluence of situational factors. The sweat from his torturous flight through the forest, gently rose from him as steam to then quickly cool in the early Autumn morning air.

He remembered how nervous he had been driving to work that morning. The crisp clear sounds of Mozart pouring from his car's audio system, did almost nothing to allay his fears, or staunch the sweat that slicked his palms on the steering wheel. He cleared his throat in a shaky squeak. He knew he could get the hypersonic emitter, that was disguised as a pen, past the security measures in place at the facility he worked at. His fears were based on what the successful use of the emitter would reveal to him about his friends and coworkers. The leather of the chair's upholstery rustled slightly as he shifted position.

As he pulled up to the security checkpoint, at the entrance to the parking lot, he shut off his motor. Daniel rolled down his window and held out the GRB issued ID card he had withdrawn from his coat's inner breast pocket. The guard in the security booth let him wait a few moments, as he finished entering some data into a terminal.

“Punching the clock earlier than usual, Dr. Two-Moons?” The guard said without looking up. His tone was matter of fact, yet still seemed to imply a subtle accusation. Finally completing his task, the guard turned and looked at Daniel squarely in the eyes, seeking subterfuge swimming behind the pupils.

“Well, there's only one speed on the fast track Rob,” Daniel said, throwing a small jibe at the man's ego by using the familiar shortened version of his name. “Besides, I am really close to a breakthrough on my most recent project. I wanted to get in early to check on the data that was collected overnight.”

A noncommittal grunt was Robert's answer as he took Daniel's ID card and placed it in the beige scanner. There was a flash of white visible from the side of the device, and a brief moment later a soporific tone and a green LED on the front of the reader announced that the card was not a forgery. Robert withdrew the card from the device and then replaced the scanner inside his booth. When he stepped back out he was carrying a biometric retinal analysis device, also a light beige in color. The eyepieces had a softer molding of a darker brown shade. Robert's feet lightly scuffled some gravel underfoot as he stepped over to Daniel waiting in his car.

“New procedure Dr. Two-Moons. All personnel are now required to submit to ID scan, retinal analysis, and DNA confirmation, before being allowed to enter the facilities. Please place your sockets to the eyepieces.”

“How come I didn't get a memo on this?” Daniel asked, not really expecting an answer from the taciturn Robert. Nor did he get one. The awkward silence drew itself out; Robert on the one side appearing willing to hold the biometric analyzer out for Daniel until his arms fell off, and Daniel on the other side wondering just how long that would take for someone's arms to fall off. Giving in to the inevitable with a sigh, Daniel leaned forward and pressed his eyes into the blackness of the eyepieces. A quick flash of light left him momentarily blinded. He withdrew his face from the device, his eyes blinking rapidly and watering.

Another green light, and a pleasant if somewhat muzak-like tone, cleared him for this test. Robert returned the device to the booth and came back out holding a nondescript beige cube approximately eight inches to a side. Realizing that this must be the device for testing his DNA, Daniel placed the index finger of his left hand in a small finger sized hole set in the face of the cube that Robert was presenting to him. A sharp pinprick flash of pain and a slight vacuum pressure, caused Daniel to hastily withdraw his digit. He shot Robert an accusatory glance for the lack of any kind of warning. Robert was completely oblivious.

“When did they come out with this piece of tech? I have never seen one of these before,” said Daniel with genuine curiosity. He prided himself on being up to date with the latest technology.

“I'm not sure Dr. Two-Moons. I just received this unit and a manual of operation this morning,” said Robert, as always keeping his speech and actions to a minimum.

“Well it takes a good eight hours, at the most expedient, to process and confirm DNA samples. You're going to have the entire GRB staff in a traffic jam at your gate every day. This new protocol wasn't thought through very …,” said Daniel, who was interrupted in mid sentence by the ubiquitous dulcet tones of mechanical approval from the device Robert was still holding.

“You are cleared to proceed Dr. Two-Moons,” said Robert as he returned Daniels ID card to him. Robert took two steps back and without looking activated the switch, on a panel set inside the booth, to lift the barrier gate. The gate lifted and Daniel started his car and rolled through smoothly, suppressing a last cynical remark at Robert. Easing casually towards the parking lot, Daniel looked back at Robert in his rear view mirror. Robert was out of the booth again. He was watching Daniel's car and talking into the handset clipped to his shoulder.

“Now that is weird. I know that cannot be any new security protocol. I wonder who he is telling that I have arrived?” Daniel mused aloud to himself. He quickly reached the parking lot, and even as early as he was, the lot was still over half full. A mounting unease in his gut was working its way into a full-fledged case of paranoia. He shut off the engine when he reached his designated spot. It was a coveted spot near the door to the main building and emblematic of his status. He rolled up his driver's side window, and opening the door, stepped out.

He walked several steps across the blacktop of the lot, up and onto and across the grass fringe, then onto the cement pathway leading to the main building of the complex. His legs felt treacherous and unsteady. The pleasant scent of fresh cut grass and a low dull whirring sound caused him to turn his head. Several small silver disc shaped objects were slowly moving across the grass yard of the compound. The agribots were always busy. They were simple robots, but their efficiency and tireless approach to their jobs never failed to make Daniel smile cynically as he thought how many people would be displaced from their livelihood if GRB were to ever market the little grass munching gizmos.

They never would of course. GRB, or General Research Bureau, was a top-secret branch of the National Security Agency, and revealing either its existence or its function was anathema to the agenda of its upper echelon. Tearing his attention away from the agribots and their slow motion mechanical dance, he looked up at the GRB logo set to the right of the main doors.

The planet Earth on one side of a cosmic sized scale, and an open book representing knowledge on the other side. Daniel frowned slightly as he took his gaze from the logo and headed for the entrance. He had never liked that logo design. It was as if whoever had thought it up was subtly suggesting that knowledge gained at whatever cost, even the Earth, was worth the price paid.

This made him think of Rinn. Rinn who had given him the hypersonic sound emitting pen. Rinn who had called it a ' mere bauble'. Rinn who was easily eight feet tall, and who, although Daniel was performing this mission, wasn't at all sure could be entirely trusted. Daniel remembered their first meeting almost two months ago.

He had been at his country home just a half an hour away from the GRB complex, and about another half an hour away from Twin Falls, Idaho, the nearest city. His home was very isolated by design, and he never got visitors. He was still very fortunate though, as most GRB employees were required to remain at housing located on the complex.

He was out on his deck and relaxing in the hot summer sun with a cold beer, lounging comfortably in a patio chair. Suddenly, right in front of him, appeared a huge man with long thin pale blond hair and pale blue eyes. His skin was so white and pale that it appeared translucent. Daniel let out an inarticulate yelp of fear, and fell backwards out of his chair. His beer splashed all over him. The bottle rolled around on the boards of the deck, the rest of its contents draining down to the bare earth below. Daniel sat there in a stupor of panic driven adrenaline jitters, with the sound of the foaming beer very crisp and clear in the hot humid air.

“Hello Dr. Daniel Two-Moons. My name is Rinn. I need your help,”said this huge man in a very calm and soothing voice. Startling though his appearance was, the gentle tones of his words began to calm Daniel from his heightened state of ' fight or flight'. Then he realized that this huge man, naming himself as Rinn, had not moved his mouth at all the entire time he had been talking. He had simply stared into Daniel's eyes intently, and Daniel had ' heard' the words as clearly as if they had been spoken aloud.

“I am not of this Earth. I need your help.” Again Daniel heard the unspoken words. Words that this time were less gentle and more urgent in tone. Rinn extended an impossibly long arm to Daniel, who reached out and grasped his hand. Daniels own hand was completely engulfed by Rinn's. Effortlessly Rinn pulled Daniel to his feet. Daniel stared at Rinn,a million thoughts racing through his mind.

“Okay, I'll bite. Where are you from big guy?” Daniel asked, trying to humor this giant who had appeared from nowhere and seemed to be insane, as well as an excellent ventriloquist.

“I must have dozed off, or something, while I was drinking my beer; and this guy just walked up on me,” he mused to himself while waiting for Rinn's answer. “Wait till the guys down at the lab hear about this one, they will think I have lost it for sure. On second thought maybe I will just keep this to myself,” he thought further, knowing that an incident like this one would be just the sort of ammunition that Dr. Mutabo in the nanotechnology department would love to use against him, to prevent him from getting elected to the appropriations committee of GRB. “If that happened, I can put the project on tachyon energy used for temporal relocation on indefinite hold,” he thought, momentarily forgetting his more immediate problem.

“Dr. Mutabo is the least of your worries. You must help me free your planet, and end the menace of the Noi for all time. The Noi is a single cell organism that creates perfect clones of itself. The more Noi there are, the more intelligent it becomes. It enters an environment and uses all of the material resources to re-create itself, destroying the environment, or planet, in the process. I destroyed my world in a nearly successful attempt at eradicating the Noi. A small craft escaped the gravity well implosion, and as fate would have it, made its way here to your world. The first host on your world was an Air Force colonel. The Noi's ancient imperative of reproduction for survival, was in some way altered to seek survival through covertly controlling its environment. Irony, on a cosmic level: the very greed and desire to dominate that has threatened your species so far, was the only reason for its salvation by changing the very instincts of the Noi.”

Those words rang crisp and clear in his head, then as well as now. Unspoken words echoing in his memory urged him to complete the mission set before him. His palms still slick from his trepidation, he pushed through the main door. The dim lighting and filtered air, cut him off from the bright sunshine and the scent of fresh cut grass. In the four steps from the main doors to the second set of double doors, that led to the interior of the complex, he knew he had been scanned by seven different frequencies and a chemical sniffer, that checked for everything from transmitting equipment, to weapons, and sub-dermal explosives.

With no alarm sounding, or armed security rushing him, he relaxed a little knowing he had indeed succeeded in smuggling in the nano device Rinn had given him. Unbidden, a shaky sigh escaped his pursed lips. He opened the second set of doors. The bottom of the door brushed the low knap carpet in a whiskery whispering purr, and he entered the crisp, cool, ionized air of the reception area. The walls matched the carpet, a uniform beige that subtly bespoke serious intent. The ceiling was painted an off-white that was near ecru, and so only slightly lighter than the floor and walls. This forced one's attention immediately to the reception desk. A monster of green marble with at least 40 pounds of chrome facing every intersecting angle and edge. The GRB logo was prominently displayed on its front. It was outfitted with the newest communications equipment available, an array of monitors displaying a rotating view of all the complexes security cameras, and a computer terminal and screen set into the desk itself. Sitting behind the desk, like a spinster thin spider at the center of her web, was the emaciated yet energetic Ms. Criton.

“You look as busy as usual, Ms. Criton. Are there any messages for me from the night shift of my department?” Daniel asked, being careful as always to avoid using the informal means of address with her. He had made that mistake once, and her bitterly acidic retort had burned his ears, and given him indigestion for the rest of that day.

“No, Dr. Two-Moons. There are no messages from your night shift workers. However, Director Thompkins requested your presence in his office immediately upon your arrival. I will notify him that you are on your way.” She quickly swiveled in her chair to depress Dir. Thompkins' button on the intercom panel, giving Daniel little option except to follow the directive.

“Thank you, Ms. Criton,” said Daniel, as he turned away and headed towards the elevators to the left of the desk.

“He's here,” said Ms. Criton, her voice oddly monotone.

“Good,” came the reply, also delivered without inflection. It hardly sounded like Terry Thompkins to Daniel, who had known the robust, gregarious, and only ' slightly' overweight Director of Regional Operations of GRB, for almost seven years now. He always had some joke or quip ready to enliven the moment. The strangeness caused Daniel to observe Ms. Criton's reaction from the corner of his eye as he waited for the elevator doors to open.

She was staring right at him almost hungrily. He turned his head to look her straight in the eyes, still she stared straight at him. “There is definitely something out of the ordinary occurring here,” thought Daniel. Ms. Criton rarely spared the time for a response to a question put to her, let alone drop all of her bustling activity to then simply stare at Daniel, who was already complying with his given directive. The elevator doors opened with a near silent hiss as they slid along their tracks, the only sound to be heard in the lobby. Daniel stepped through and into the elevator, Ms. Criton's eyes boring holes in the back of his neck. Turning to face the doors, he pressed the button marked with the number five. The elevator doors closed, cutting him off from the laser-like glare of Ms. Criton, who it looked like to Daniel, was smiling slightly.

“All right,now I know something is wrong. Creepy Criton never smiles for anything and Terry sounded like a robot. Rinn must have been right,” thought Daniel, taking out the pen which housed the nano device and clutching it tightly in his sweaty palm, like the proverbial drowning man grasping at straws to stay afloat. His momentary calm that had come about from passing the security checkpoints, was rapidly evaporating in the fiery burn of his rising fear. As the elevator descended into the depths of the complex, his thudding heart seemed to be rising into his throat.

Before he was quite ready, the fifth sub-floor had been reached, and the doors opened. The dimly lit hallway yawned before him like an open mouth. Before stepping out into the hallway he twisted the top half of his pen clockwise until there was a faint click. All that was left to do now to activate the device, was to depress the pen's clicker. It felt oily in his hand. The molecules were being rearranged into the design of the device; it quivered slightly in his palm,the surface shifting itself into new patterns. Feeling only slightly less like the fly in the spider's parlor, he feigned a feeling of self-assurance, and strolled nonchalantly down the hall. His black boots barely making a sound on the beige carpet.

There was only the one room, the director's office, which was at the end of the short hallway. On the right side of the steel door was a panel holding a palm and optical scanner. Daniel placed his right hand flat on the glass, and his left eye to the eyepiece. There was a flash of light from both scanners and he stepped back to await confirmation. A brief moment later his name and GRB bar code appeared on the monitor that was set above the eyepiece. The steel door emitted a loud ' clunk' as the safety bolt was electronically drawn, and the door swung open a crack. Stealing his reserve, and grasping the pen just a little tighter, Daniel pushed open the door and strolled into Dir. Thompkin's office.

“Hey chief, I heard you wanted to see me straight away. What is up?” Daniel said in what he hoped was a casual tone.

“Please have a seat Dr. Two-Moons,” said Thompkins indicating a very comfortable looking recliner. Daniel hesitated a second before settling into the burgundy colored leather upholstery of the chair. “We are aware of your being visited by the alien known as Rinn. You have compromised the security of the complex, which as you know is a treasonable offense and punishable by death. We are, however, very interested in you continuing your research. The applications of the pathways tachyons take as they travel through other dimensions could mean instantaneous transport to any location we choose. To this end, it was decided that you become a host to us, that this knowledge not be lost. In point of fact, you are already a host, having been injected at the main security gate with one thousand of us.” The nightmarish surrealistic quality of the episode was almost too much for Daniel. The roots of the horror delved deeper as the truth sank in.

“The DNA test at the gate,” that Daniel to himself only half forming the complete thought. His mind was numbed by the harsh reality of the situation. He had only one chance, and the sooner it was implemented, the better. He could practically feel the Noi reproducing inside him, growing their number to take over all his bodily systems. With a wordless wish that this was not to be his last action, he pushed the silver clicker on the pen. White fire erupted in his left hand, and up his arm, in thousands of pinpricks of superheated agony. Grimacing in pain, he dropped the pen from his right hand, and rocked back and forth clutching at his arm. Gritting his teeth in pain, he saw through clenched watery eyes, that the pain that the former Director Thompkins was undergoing was considerably worse. Terry's head had fallen forward onto his desk as white-hot flames danced about his hairless skull, melting the skin, muscle, and fat like cheap wax. The noxious effluvium oozed outward.

Daniel stared in mute horrified fascination. Terry's body twitched and jerked in his executive style swivel chair before finally becoming still. Flames still played about the charred remains of Thompkins' skull. The noisome gray black fluid had slowly seeped through the front end of the desk and, drip by drip, had formed a growing puddle on the carpeted floor. Finally pulling his attention away from the steaming mess, Daniel realized that the pain in his hand and arm was mostly gone.

Wincing, he pulled himself out of the chair and onto the floor to look for the pen that had caused him so much pain, but which was also his sole means of surviving a self extraction from the complex. After several minutes of searching, he spotted it under the desk. Reaching over the puddle on the floor, he quickly grabbed it and stood up. He was not fast enough, to avoid smelling an odor that he would never forget: a rich repulsive combination of cat food, battery acid, and burnt fish. Refusing the reflexive urge to regurgitate, he attributed solely to the numbness he felt was a defense mechanism in response to a near incapacitating panic.

Standing there in indecision, the choice as to what to do next, was taken from him when the desk blossomed into a full blaze. Thick choking smoke filled the tiny office forcing him back into the hallway. He pulled the heavy steel door shut, already feeling the heat growing on the other side. There being no other exit, he headed for the elevator. His gait was no measured stride this time, but a frantic scrambling run. He reached the elevator doors and pushed the up arrow, the fire alarm klaxon braying insanely in his ear.

“Come on, come on, come on,” Daniel chanted to himself under his breath, subconsciously shifting from foot to foot. Less than half a minute past as Daniel impatiently willed the doors to open. The muted chime sounded, indicating the arrival of the elevator at his floor, and the doors began to slide open. The steel door at his back was now glowing at its edges, and thick oily smoke was curling out into the hallway. Daniel stepped quickly into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor, the reception area. The deadly nano device was clenched tightly in his right hand. The doors sealed and he began his ascent.

The elevator stopped unexpectedly at the third sub-floor and the doors opened. Three armed security guards with fire extinguishers were on the other side. Two of them stepped back shocked and wide-eyed as the other guard's head burst into incandescence. Screams of astonishment and horror arose from several of the scientists at the nearest stations. Daniel, momentarily stunned by this development, was quicker than the guards in recovering his wits. He pushed the button for the top floor again, and as the doors closed the guards came to their senses, using the extinguishers in hand to put out their fallen comrade.

The elevator resumed its upward motion, and without further event reached the reception area. A mild vertiginous lurch coincided with the soft chime of the elevator ( barely heard over the strident blaring of the alarm). The doors opened to reveal Ms. Criton with a brightly polished chrome .44 Magnum pointed squarely at Daniel' s face.

Several things happened all at once. Ms. Criton's head burst into bone searingly hot flame. Her finger pulled the trigger of the gun even as she reeled backward in response to the pain. The bullet just barely missed Daniels head, embedding itself in the elevator's overhead speaker in a shower of sparks. The fire alarm ended abruptly. In the sonic vacuum left by its absence Daniel hurriedly stepped around the fallen form of Ms. Criton. The stench of burning flesh repulsive in his nostrils. He ran across the lobby heading for the main doors.

Before pushing open the first set of double doors, Daniel clicked his ' pen' again, shutting off the unheard frequency. This done, he ran through the short entryway without setting off more alarms, and pushed open the outer doors causing them to jarringly crash against the stoppers set in the floor. He ran straight for his car, cutting across the grass and vaulting over an agribot on the way.

A sharp pain in his right forearm spun him in his tracks as he reached his car and fell to the blacktop. A fraction of a second later he heard the crack of the gun's report followed by another, as a bullet exited the cars rear door panel about a foot away from where his head was, to burrow snugly into the turf. He scrambled up from off of the ground and hunkered himself behind the front tires' wheel well just as another bullet crashed through the front passenger side window, spraying bits of fractured glass everywhere.

“ Damn it. He has got me pinned. How do I get out of this?” the thought, wild eyed, sweating, and jittery from the adrenaline. “Wait, I bet Robert's been infected too. It just might work,” Daniel thought glancing down at the pen. Several shots rang out in succession as the drivers side tire exploded and glass from the windshield rained down on the lot. A brief silence ensued in which, Daniel hoped, Robert was reloading his side arm.

In desperation Daniel jumped up from his cover, clicked the pen, and hurled it towards the guardhouse some fifty feet away. In the brief moment he was exposed to return fire, he saw Robert walking towards him less than thirty feet away. He was just finishing pushing the new clip into his gun. He raised it, taking aim at Daniel, even as Daniel was ducking for cover again behind his car.

“It's going to completely miss him,” he thought, furious at himself for blowing his one-shot. Listening intently, he heard two more footsteps and then a muffled thud. Not daring to hope, but needing to look anyway, he lowered his head to the level of the pavement and risked a quick glance under the remains of his car. On the parking lot lay what was left of Robert. The cooked remnants of his cranium emptying onto the blacktop. His right heel twitching slightly.

“It got him anyway. I am going to have to thank Rinn when I see him. If I see him,” thought Daniel amending his mental statement as he was forming it. “Got to hurry now. No time to get the pen. Just get the gate from the car, and run for the woods. No time, no time, move it,” he urged himself on silently. He stood and opened the passenger side door, quickly reaching under the seat. He silently thanked the arrogance of the Noi, for being so self-assured that they didn't perform a complete check of his car. There under the seat, the smooth ridges of the non-adhesive side of the Velcro strap that held the pack in place met his questing fingers. In less than three seconds he had both the front and back straps undone, and the ' gate' in its backpack onto his shoulders. Then he was off and running for the tree line.

They had not caught up with him in his mad dash through the woods, and now, as he sat there musing on how very different his life had become, the gate continued to power up to its transmit threshold. The monitor indicated two minutes left.

“They are bound to have a signal fix by now. Come on hurry up,” he silently urged the gate. “Whoever is now in charge at GRB, undoubtedly someone infected with the Noi, has commandeered an NSA satellite, reconfigured it to detect cosmic radiation, and has me pinpointed to within a meter. My only hope is that they send a team to try and collect me, instead of disintegrating me from space,” he thought, cursing the scourge that had invaded his planet, not to mention ruining his career as a government researcher, and threatening his very life. He glanced back at the monitor. It read one minute forty-five seconds.

Then, faint and still far off, he heard the distinctive sound of helicopter blades grow out of the background of quiet forest noises. His breath caught in his throat. His bowels loosened in the classic fight or flight response, as adrenaline flooded his system once more.

“I'm not going to make it,” he said out loud to no one. In saying it, he felt better, resigned to whatever course fate had in store for him. He looked again at the display screen on the gate's monitor. It read one minute twenty-two seconds. Standing, he scanned the skies through the branches of his pitifully scant shelter. He couldn't see anything yet, but the sound of the helicopters was definitely louder. A trickle of sweat ran a path down his back, causing him to involuntarily shudder. His forearms broke out in goosebumps.

“I should have taken Robert's gun and extra ammo. I could sure use it now,” he thought regretfully. He turned his head to check on the remaining time. It displayed fifty-three seconds. As he turned his head back again to scan the tree line, there they were. Three Blackhawk helicopters flying in phalanx formation, and headed straight for him. All he could do was watch, as they homed in on their target. The scant clouds, patchy in the blue morning sky, a mute witness to these descending mechanical angels. Daniel moved to stand near the gate, yet still positioning a tree between himself and his aerial assailants.

“No need to make it easy for them,” he thought, a wolfish grin spreading across his face despite the fear he felt. Looking again at the time left, he saw it read twenty-four seconds remaining. “There just might be enough time,” he thought, hope flooding through his head and heart. His smile grew bigger, and a low growling chuckle issued forth.

“Come on then, you bastards. I got something for you,” he shouted up at the sky triumphantly, almost crowing the challenge. The treetops were waving wildly in the wash of the rotors, and he could see glints of sunlight reflecting off of mirrored sunglasses set on hard-edged faces. Nine seconds. Smooth black nylon ropes were thrown from the opening bays of the choppers. Seven seconds. Hard professionals with deadly intent launched themselves out of the bay doors, sliding down the ropes which were held in one hand while the other hand trained automatic weapons on Daniel's hiding spot. Three seconds. Halfway down the ropes they opened fire. Bullets sprayed everywhere, chewing up the trunks of the trees, severing branches, and sending leaves and twigs flying all about the gate. One second.

In slow motion, to his fear heightened sense of time, he pushed away from the tree and dove through the hailstorm of hot lead in a courageous attempt to reach the gate. In mid air he saw the display flip from 0:01 to 0:00, and then he was in and passing through the gate, even as a bullet ripped past his leg tearing a hole in his pants cuff. He had made it.

Daniel passed through the gate and did not come out the other side, much to the jaw-dropping astonishment of the assault force. Three things happened in a very rapid succession. The display on the monitor read TRANSMISSION COMPLETED. EXECUTE TERMINATION. Then the coruscating blue energies playing about the outer edge of the cable, gathered into the center of the circle, pulsed once, turning white, then expanded very rapidly with explosive effect. A huge fireball engulfed the gate, the copse of trees, the assault force, the helicopters, and three acres of forest in the fury of its hellish consuming fires.

2 – Rebirth

The alarm blared in his ear. An incessant breep, breep, breep that would wake a tranquilized elephant. Jimmy Roberts, J. R. to his few close personal friends, opened one bleary bloodshot eye and stared at the hated device. It read 6:30 in digital blue-green, and continued to merrily drill its shrilling tone through Jimmy's ears, and somehow found what was left of his alcohol soaked, dehydrated brain. With a growl he reached over and slapped the snooze button. Then after laying on his back for a few moments he thought better of it, swung himself up into a sitting position, and turned the alarm completely off.

“Sue?” He called out, but received no answer. “I wonder where she went, so early,” he mused, mumbling. “Sue?” He called again. Silence answered him. He sat there rubbing his eyes and getting himself ready to face the challenge of the day. A loud backfire from one of the ancient rundown beaters, which were the most common form of transportation in his neighborhood, startled him into standing up involuntarily. A red yellow spike of nerve searing pain slammed through him with every heartbeat, from his eyeballs to the back of his head and down his aching spine.

“Shit. Really bad idea,” he cursed as he slowly lowered himself to sit back down on the bed. One hand gingerly held his head together and the other extended behind him to steady himself. After five minutes of slowly massaging his temples, and deep breathing, he carefully stood and walked around the bed, heading for the bathroom. He kicked a beer bottle out of the way and grimaced at the sudden jolt to his fragile nervous system. He pushed open the unpainted wood door of the bathroom. Immediately he saw the note taped to the mirror above the sink. It looked hastily written in Sue's black eyeliner. He tore it from the mirror, hardly noticing the disheveled man in the mirror looking very untamed in just boxers, his blond hair pointing every which way and a thick growth of stubble on his face.

The note read: Jimmy, it's over between us. I'm sorry I couldn't do this face to face, but I didn't want to be talked out of it. I just can't handle your drinking anymore, or all the secrets you keep from me. Don't call me please, for at least a month. I'll always be your friend, Sue. At the bottom of the note, in Sue's shade of lipstick, passionate plum, was a smeary lipstick kiss and what looked like stains from her tears. Jimmy stood there stunned reading the note over and over, trying to grasp the reality of it. Finally after the fifth reading he dropped it, letting it slowly seesaw back and forth in the air as it drifted down, landing in a small puddle of beer. The paper started soaking up the spilled liquid, distorting the letters into illegibility. Jimmy turned the cold water on in the sink and splashed some on his face. Icy droplets ran over his feverish face and dripped on his chest and abdomen. Leaning over and putting his head in the sink, he drank directly from the tap in noisy slurping gulps. When his belly was full, he slowly stood up straight; the water racing throughout his body as his dehydrated cells sponged up the life giving liquid.

Jimmy stared at himself in the mirror studying his face. With a weary, slightly disgusted sigh, he ran his left hand across his face in a gesture somewhere between resignation and resistance, then opened the mirrored cabinet looking for some aspirin. On the middle shelf he found the bottle and shook it. The lonely rattle of one aspirin in the container could be heard over the running water. He struggled with the cap a moment before finally removing it with a small snarl of triumph. Cupping one hand under the faucet and raising it to his lips, he then added the lone tablet. Tossing his head back in a quick snapping motion, he swallowed aspirin.

Immediately he regretted his chosen method of ingestion. The quick motion sloshed around his pickled brain, causing it to bump into his egg shell thin skull, setting off his own personal laser light show behind his closed eyes. Accompanying the optic display was the dull thump of his nerves. With his right hand holding on to the sink and his left squeezing his head at the temples, he slowly sank down to the floor in a pain filled wave of dizziness that threatened to drown him as it washed over him.

“Oh. Sue is right,” Jimmy groaned aloud, resolving for the thousandth time, if not more, that now was the moment in which to change his life. A clean break for a clean start. “Maybe this time I can do it,” he thought hopefully through the murky fog of his hangover. After five minutes of holding onto the sink, he gradually straightened himself into a standing position. He stood there blinking for a bit, still a little unsteady on his feet. Gradually he became aware that the water was still pouring from the faucet, and be turned the handle off, halting the flow.

With another deep sigh, slightly shuddering, he opened the door to the shower stall. Standing on the white fuzzy cotton floor mat, he turned the hot water on all the way. While he waited for it to get hot he wiggled his toes, pulling on the fabric. The steam soon rose from the spray of water, and pulled him from his tactile reverie. He turned the cold water handle a quarter turn and stuck his hand into the stream to test it. Satisfied, he stripped out of his boxers and stepped into the shower shutting the door.

Facing the shower head he placed both hands on the wall and tilted his head forward, to let the stream of slightly hot water hit the back of his neck. For a while he just stood there letting the shower soak him. Streams of water ran over his head and across his face, forcing him to breathe through his open mouth. Then, bending his knees and making sure to keep his back straight, so that the blood wouldn't gather painfully in his head, he reached down and grabbed the green bottle of shampoo which lay on its side. A small amount of the liquid had poured out from its open cap, to form a small hard soapy disk, that the shower's water was beginning to soften.

Carefully straightening himself back up again, he resumed soaking his tortured brain in the soothing spray. His weak tremulous fingers lost their purchase on the bottle of shampoo he was holding, and it hit the stall floor with a wet hollow thud. Without thinking, he bent at the waist to retrieve the fallen bottle. As he stood, again without thinking, the pulse and pound of the pain in his brain made him pay for his thoughtlessness. He staggered slightly as he had earlier at the sink, in a whirl of pain and vertigo. His back, and the back of his head, bumped against the wall of the shower stall, and his right foot happened to find the patch of soapy scum that was now soft and slick. In a rush faster than his poor beleaguered mind could follow, his feet flew out from underneath him, up became down, and sparks of fire crackled behind closed eyes. In falling, his arms pushed open the shower door and the back of his head received a cracking blow on the metal door frame. He sank down into darkness.

When he opened his eyes he was staring up at the ceiling of the stall and seeing his feet leaning against the wall of the shower, looking wrinkled, waterlogged, and a sickly grayish green. In a flash of panic he realized that he couldn't move his toes, feet, or legs. He could still feel the water beating down on his abdomen and chest. It was icy cold. With a herculean effort, he wrenched himself about, using his arms. His legs flopped about uselessly.

He dragged himself out of the stall and pulled himself through the mixture of shower water and blood, that had come from his head wound, which now covered the whole floor. He struggled stoically to reach the towel on the towel rack, to pull himself up with. “Sue's towel. She forgot to take it,” Jimmy thought distractedly, as he pulled himself up into a sitting position with his back to the wall. He sat there a few moments waiting for the circulation to return to his legs.