From: bkoike@sdcc13.UCSD.EDU (Bryce Koike)
Subject: STORY: The Otherworld (Chapter 8)
Followup-To: rec.games.frp.misc
Date: Tue, 10 Nov 1992 18:52:28 GMT

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                   The Otherworld <> Chapter 8

                    :: HER MAJESTY'S FINEST ::

                   Copyright 1992 by Bryce Koike
                        All Rights Reserved
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-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
     Any comments, criticisms, opinions, etc, are welcome.  I can
be reached on Internet as:
     bkoike@sdcc13.ucsd.edu
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"Midnight, our sons and daughters
Were cut down and taken from us
Hear their heartbeat . . .
We hear their heartbeat
In the wind
We hear their laughter
In the rain
We see their tears"
                            ("Mothers of the Disappeared" -- U2)
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Author's Note
    This chapter was gettng a bit long, so I chopped it.  The
remainder will appear as Chapter 9.  It may be long in coming, so
I'm apologizing in advance.  School and all, you know.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Date:      September 7, 2195
Location:  Combat Orbit around Jupiter
           One Of Our Possible Futures
Time:      11:35 am

    The melodic female voice called in over the intercom.
    "Preparing for final run," she said.
    The bulbous troop carrier hit maximum burn, heading for point
Sigma One.  Each soldier was held safely within their special
couches, each cradled within their medium powered suit.
    Captain Bryant tapped the communications net with his mind.
"Roger that, Central," he said.  "This is going to be one bloody
mess, eh?"
    "Your trajectory looks good, sir.  We've kept the hounds off
your back.  American forces are now in retreat.  We're having
difficulties with the Yamato, though."
    "Right."
    The American pigs!  The Bayle Act had specifically declared all
of Jupiter's space to be Alliance territory and yet the moment the
Combine heard of the incredible mineral wealth found about Sigma
One they jumped at the first excuse to set their warships on burn.
Ever the imperialist bastards, sticking their impulsive heads where
they didn't belong!  As it is said, their history preceded them.
    "Starbase in sight."
    Bryant flipped the visuals to his helmet.  They'd towed the
structure in pieces with their main battlefleet, a supposed
peace-making gesture during the Jupiter riots.  What they didn't
mention was the social brainwashing that went on there and the heavy
weapons mounted on its structure.  They had sole rights to Mars, did
their greed never stop?
    Bryant flipped to the soldier's frequency.  "Alright men," he
said, "we're on entry trajectory now.  You know your mission
objectives!  We hit them hard and don't give 'em a chance to
recover!"
    Even as his seat slowly leaned back toward the wall, leading him
into the launch tube, he felt a strange rumble in the ship.
Diagnostics gave no answers.
    "Drummond!" he called over the link.  "What's going on?"
    "Disturbance, sir!" cried the pilot.  "I can't determine its
source!  You think they're using some sort of gravity weapon on us?"
    "Keep us on target, Drummond!  We're in the pipe and Mother's not
going to take us home!"
    "Yes, sir!"
    The ship gave a horrible shake and suddenly all lights went
dead.  The linkage unit stopped with a jerk as a wave seemed to roll
across the troop carrier.
    "Jesus!" cried Bryant as suit power dropped to nothing.  He was
cloaked in darkness and completely cut off.  The manual release
switch wasn't working.  Nothing.  A massive electromagnetic pulse?
All ships were supposed to be properly shielded, but still . . . a
bomb or emp weapon placed near the ship's drives could conceivably
cause enough damage to completely cripple the vessel.
    The craft shuddered again.  Shockwaves?  Bryant tried to
activate the manual release, but still nothing.  Already the suit's
oxygen felt like it was going stale.  How soon before he'd suffocate
in his own carbon dioxide?  Another shockwave hit the craft and a
swift wrenching sensation followed.  He suddenly realized that they
weren't in free fall anymore.
    Gravity?  From where?

    The general slammed a fist down onto the desk.  "What do you
mean Captain Bryant's ship has disappeared?  Explain!"
    The aide shook his head in amazement.  "I'm not certain, sir!
Only two seconds into their distress signal we lost contact with
them.  With what little information we got, we're thinking it might
be some sort of gravity weapon, perhaps."
    The man growled.  "Gravity weapons from the Combine?  Why didn't
they use it earlier today when we nearly destroyed their command
vessel?  The Yamato's pulling back even now.  We've destroyed their
support fleet.  Is some other group at work here?"
    "I'm not certain, sir.  We're still working on it."
    "Damn!"
    A major officer and a hundred of the Alliance's best troops gone
in an instant with no trace!  No explanation!  Gone in one of the
most decisive battles of the three-year war with the Americans and
their Asian allies.
    "Get the Hammer on the net," ordered the general.  "I want all
forces mobilized immediately.  Demand surrender of the Combine
starbase or we'll vaporize her from combat orbit."
    "Sir, is that advisable?  There's civilians on that base, many
of them ours!"
    "Yes, I know."  The general sighed wearily.  "I know.  But I
cannot think of anything else that will bring a more expedient end
to this war.  Already the public is turning against us.  We cannot
afford to extend the war for two more years.  It must end soon.  And
that ending must begin here!"

    Abuptly the troop carrier rumbled again and electricity
returned.  Bryant sighed in relief as his oxygen recyclers
re-engaged.  The ship was in constant vibrations now, though, and
was shaking violently.
    "Drummond!" Bryant called out.
    "Sir, brace yourselves for re-entry!" cried Drummond.  Muted
cursing could be heard on the other end.
    "What?"
    "Re-entry, sir!  I don't know what the bloody hell happened, but
we're caught in a planet's gravity well!  Hold on!"
    A planet's gravity well?  Jupiter's?  Certainly not!  Bryant
called up data on his visor.  Not much of the information was useful
-- most of the computer was tied into keeping the troop carrier
stable during re-entry.  Jupiter carriers were not expected for
planetfall and yet were still equipped with the capability on the
chance that it may become important.  What had happened in the few
seconds that they had lost power?

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Date:      September 7, 1992
Location:  Northern California
           Otherworld
Time:      11:45 am

    "Atmosphere readings are okay.  Completely compatible."
Drummond stood up from the seat.  "We're still unable to locate our
accurate position, but so far as we can tell we're still well-within
the Terran sphere."
    "Hmm."  Bryant stared at the view screen.  Outside a sparse
forest.  "How soon before we know?"
    "Give us a couple more hours, sir.  We've lost access to the CP
net."
    "Nothing from Alliance HQ?"
    "Nothing, sir."
    Captain Bryant sighed.  The loss of energy to computer systems
had made planetfall unnaturally difficult.  And it had also made it
impossible to make planetary readings during touchdown.  The troop
ship had been damaged during landing and Bryant wasn't about to
order a scout before all equipment had been checked.
    "Okay, Drummond, you get your couple hours.  You said you saw
cities?"
    "Aye, sir.  Fairly large by the looks of them.  We obviously
didn't have much time to gawk."
    "Sergeant Nimitz?  I want you to prepare a scouting party.  I'm
not expecting a hostile environment, so keep to light armament and
armor configuration.  You'll be moving out as soon as we've got
things checked out."
    "Yessir!"
    Nimitz snapped his heels together and saluted.  He sharply spun
and marched out.  Bryant activated a holographic unit.
    "This," he said, pointing to the projection, "is our status
during the last minutes before the blackout, correct?"
    "Aye, sir," answered Drummond.  "As you'll notice, only slight
EMP ratings previous to the blackout.  There was an interesting
energy flux coming from the power plant, but that quickly
straightened out.  Then here, just a drop in everything.  We even
lost all life support.  A little over a minute later everything came
back on-line and we were plunging into a planet's atmosphere.  Had
to do a manual landing due to the power outage."
    "Yes.  Did it strike you odd that all of our readings dropped to
zero at the same rate?  Everything, even exterior readings.  Like we
entered some sort of dead zone.  And we're nowhere near Jupiter.
Any chance of it being gravitics?"
    "None, sir.  There was no gravity change during any of the
shockwaves. And a gravity beam that could push this ship halfway
across even half of our own solar system would have killed us all.
I honestly cannot explain what happened.  And certainly no chance of
the Combine dragging some planet here."
    "Of course not.  Excuse me.  I'd like to look in on the
technicians."
    "Yes, sir.  If you need anything, just call."
    "Thank you, Drummond."

    No one had been killed or injured, thankfully.  Bryant headed
his way back to the reactor.  That was the critical piece.  If it
had been damaged they'd be grounded unless repairs could be made.
And if they were in hostile territory, they'd be dead.
    The terran vegitation had made Bryant do a double take.  Unless
they had somehow been moved all the way to Earth, they had to be
near some terraformed colony.  Whether it was Combine or Alliance it
was undetermined.  How they had managed to get there was even more
peculiar.
    The technicians were still doing tests on the reactor.  Raleigh
approached him and saluted.
    "Sir!" he said.
    "At ease.  How is the reactor?"
    Raleigh shook his head.  "It's got a fissure in it.  We can
contain it, but there's no way we'll be able to leave this planet
without the appropriate repairs.  All of the backups died with the
power outage and allowed some leakage which damage the bottle.  We
can still use it for power, though."
    "Damn.  Other than that?"
    "Other than the reactor, everything's fine.  We've got a couple
dented suits, but that's about it.  You can start operations any
time you want, sir.  We're ready to switch full power on to the
reactor."
    "So things are safe?"
    "Yes, sir.  We've installed a temporary band aid solution that
will hold for a few weeks.  We hope to have a more permanent
solution before then, though.  But so far as things stand now, we're
as fully operational as we'll ever be."
    "Thank you, Raleigh.  Keep up the work."

    "Toward the south there's a city.  We have a strong belief that
it's a Terran city.  That's why we're outfitting you with scanners
and radio transmitters.  You are to scan all transmission
frequencies as well as check for energy outputs.  We need to know
what forces control this planet and their alignment.  If they're
Alliance, attempt to contact Jupiter.  If not, return to base
immediately.  We can't have you being captured.  Understand?"
    "Yessir!" cried Sergeant Nimitz.
    "Good.  Now on your way.  We'll expect a transmission from you
within the next eight hours or when you locate the outskirts of the
city, whichever is sooner."
    "Yessir!"
    The cargo door carefully opened and lowered.  Clad in light
powered armor Nimitz and his squad saluted, then turned and began
their march.
    "Martique?  Have you set up the watch?"
    "Aye, sir," answered the Lieutenant.  "We've got them currently
at ten minute intervals.  If we have reports of hostile entities
we'll up that immediately.  Do you expect some sort of violent
action, sir?"
    "No, Martique, I do not.  We haven't been able to reach anyone
up on any communication frequency.  I don't know what happened to
this place, but either its population has been removed or they have
somehow regressed to lesser technologies.  Either way, we're dealing
with an unfamiliar anomaly among any of the Colonies."
    "Sir, have you thought that perhaps this is not one of our
Colonies?"
    "How is that, lieutenant?"
    "Well, sir, do you remember the Free States?  They did send out
an early colony ship.  If it was possible that we somehow passed
through a sort of wormhole in space, perhaps we have come across the
colony.  It's been a little under a century since they established
some of their colonies."
    Bryant scratched his head.  "And we do know that they took many
types of terran fauna and flora with them.  I suppose that it's
possible, Martique.  Tell our communications officer to look into
it."
    "Yes, sir."

    Their sensor arrays indicated that there was nothing unusual
throughout the area.  The city was not as far away as they had
expected: it would probably only take another hour at a careful
march until they reached it.  They had already crossed old paved
roads.  A sign of a technological society, yes, but what level?
What they had seen was indicative of little.
    "Banks," said Nimitz over the comlink.
    "Yes, sir?" came back his scratchy response.
    "Your blood temperature is going up.  Something wrong?"
    "Well, my oxygen recycler's acting up again, that's all, sir."
    "Troops, halt."
    Nimitz cracked his suit's helmet.  "Banks, that's not all right.
It's our duty to keep our suits in top condition.  Now crack that
suit and we'll see what we can do.  What if we were to get into
combat?  You know you need that recylcer operating at maximum
capacity."
    Banks blushed.  "Yessir.  Okay."  His suit separated at a
command from his mind.
    "Okay, let's see what we can do."

    "No flight capabilities at all?" asked Bryant as he sipped some
hot water.
    The scientist thought for a moment.  "Well, sir, so long as we
keep her close to the ground and carefully watch the reactor
shielding, we should be able to have some sort of flight ability.
It'll probably be limited."
    "But will it be enough to get us to that city?"
    "Yes, sir, it probably would.  We should have a better patch on
the shield fairly soon and that should allow greater stress levels.
We ought to be prepared for full emergency evacuation, though, if
anything goes wrong."
    "Alright, that's all."
    "Sir?"
    "Yes?"
    "Do you know where we are?"
    Bryant shook his head.  "No, no I do not know.  I do wish I did,
though."
    "Thank youk, sir."
    The scientist saluted.  It was strange to Bryant.  No non-
military scientists in the marines anymore.  And all had to go
through the hellish three months that had made up basic training.
Each was trained and prepared to take up weapons if need be.  The
war had done horrible things to both sides.
    Bryant looked at the viewscreen.  The countryside looked so
harmless, so inviting.  It would be so easy to just take a step
outside and forget the war.  Forget responsibilities.  Bryant took a
pull on his cigarette.  Old Terran-style.  Of all the things to last
from that time, it was strange that tobacco was one of them.
    A technician approached him.  "Sir, we've got two mobile units
rigged for remote scouting.  Anytime you want we can launch them."
    Bryant stirred in the chair.  "Excellent.  Launch one toward the
southern city.  I want the other on an intensive search and scout
routine.  I want as much information as we can get on the
surrounding area."
    "Yes, sir."

    Nimitz stood at the edge of the city and stared at it.  He felt
as if he had been underground for a million years and had returned
only to find deserted buildings as a sign that people ever walked
the earth.
    "Twentieth Century by the looks of it, sir," said McCabot.
"Look at that!  Lord, is that an honest car?  What kind of place is
this?"
    Nimitz shook his head.  "Men, I do not know," was his only
reply.  "But something horrible must have happened to this world.
Horrible enough to ravage the people but leave the buildings intact.
We must make certain before we report, though, that this city truly
is empty.  It could be a religious holiday or something for them."
    A soldier snickered.
    "Alright, we'll split into groups of two and scour the area.  We
meet back at this location in precisely two hours."
    Quietly they split into pairs and carefully watched their
scanning equipment.  There was nothing of consequence across the
entire spectrum.
    Nimitz tweaked his communications unit.

    The communcations officer swung about in his chair.  "Sir,
Nimitz is calling in!"
    Bryant gestrued at the viewscreen.  "Put him on."
    "Nimitz reporting, sir."
    "Your report?"
    Nimitz' eyes turned toward the sky for a moment and then the
screen's view changed to that of the city.  "It's late Twentieth
Century by the looks of it, sir.  You'll notice the antique-style
cars and the such.  Completely authentic, if not the actual thing.
One strange thing, though, sir."
    "What's that?"
    "It's completely empty, sir.  We haven't been able to find
anyone as of yet.  Right now I've got men out searching and
scouting, but we don't thing we'll find anything soon."
    "Hmm.  Absolutely no sign of life?"
    "No human life, sir.  There are basic terrestrial life forms,
though.  We haven't had much time to search the area."
    "Understood.  Report back as soon as possible."
    "Yessir.  Nimitz out."
    The screen went to static for a moment and then cleared.
    "What's your opinion, Drummand?" Bryant asked.
    "I'm not sure, sir.  I'm quite confused.  And the information
we're getting from the computers isn't any better."
    "Explain."
    Drummand scratched his head and with a sheepish grin, he said,
"Well, sir, according to the computer, we're supposed to be on 20th
Century Earth in Northern California."

    Earth, the birth-home of mankind.  Many men, born on other
worlds, find a urge within themselves to return to Earth to visit.
The proverbial return to the womb.  Earth, for so long it had sank
deeper and deeper into ecological collapse until the planet was
literally evacuated save for a contigent of fantatic scientists
whose sole duty was to save the mother planet.
    Terrapiracy started then -- the raiding of Earth.  Whether if it
was for ores or other materials on the planet or for momentos and
other belongings, there were those who were willing to purchase what
the Terrapirates were so happy to steal.  The Terran Sphere Patrol
had to be formed and waged vicious battles against the Terrapirates
before their ultimate cordon around Earth was sealed permanently.
Only recently had Earth been reopened for limited visitation rights.
    Earth!  The planet that conjured in minds the classic ecological
system.  The mother-home!  To save credits over the years to pay
for a shuttle to the Earth and then a drop from LEO down to the
surface.  For a day, a week, it was worth it to return Home.  No
matter where you were born you felt it:  the pull toward Earth.  It
called like a siren atop her craggy cliff; it was the irresistable
force.
    EARTH!

    Bryant's eyes snapped to the viewscreen, to the trees that
reached out toward the horizon.  To the clouds that hung suspended
in the sky.
    "This . . . cannot be," he said.
    Drummond let out a bark of a laugh.  "Yes, I know, sir!  How
could we have gone back in time?  It's preposterous!"
    "No.  No.  But where are the people?  If this is Earth, where
have the people gone?"
    And as their eyes turned toward the viewscreen to feast their
eyes on the American countryside, neither of them had the slightest
idea that they had passed what they took for reality and had entered
another.  That this was the Otherworld they were in, for better or
for worse.
    As the Jupiter space marines say, once there, you were there for
the duration.  The only freedom available was death.

    "To your stations!" cried the sergeant.  "C'mon ladies, let's
move!  Take off's in ten!  Move!  Move!  Move!"
    Soldiers piled into the troop carrier and tightened their
harness restraints.  At the bridge, Bryant tugged at his own chair.
The sound of the reactor's whine could be faintly heard in the
distance.
    "She's holding tight, sir!" yelled a technician.  "We're ALL
GO!"
    "Launch in three!" shouted Bryant.
    "Roger that, launch in three."
    "Actuators and gyroscopes on-line.  Thrusters are green across
the board."
    "Primary thrust activate!"
    "Launch in two!"
    The troop carrier gave a momentous shudder.
    "Seventy-five percent power!"
    "Reactor's at green minus four!"
    "Reactor bottle intact!"
    "Launch in one!"
    "Full power!"
    "Gyroscopes steady!"
    "Reactor bottle holding tight!"
    "Full thrust achieved!"
    The lumbering giant rose from her great slumber and barely
reaching over the tree tops she slowly crawled southward.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Date:      September 8, 1992
Location:  Northern California
           Otherworld
Time:      8:00 am

    Triple-A street maps were spread out on the table.  "This is our
location," said Lieutenant Martique.  "Anyone remember any 20th
Century history?"
    Silence around the table.
    "Okay, we're going to have to find a good location for us to set
up our center of operations.  Conditions in the carrier are going to
go downhill pretty fast as we all know.  And if we do want to spread
out in this city we're going to have to get some sort of electrical
system going.  There's a power plant for the city, but it's nowhere
near our current position.  We could conceivably power certain
buildings from our own reactor with some work, but that'll take
time.  In the meantime we've got to get more surveillance and scour
the area."
    Bryant stood.  "Lieutenant, have you any information about
orbital satellites?"
    "Aye, sir.  There's nothing in orbit around this planet.  No
space junk and no satellites.  And that's very strange considering
the large number of satellites that the various world powers had in
orbit."
    "Hmm.  What about feeding our men?  The Callasius wasn't
outfitted for extended duty."
    "Well, sir, we can raid local stores for unspoiled food.  That's
the short-term solution.  For the long-term we're going to have to
grow crops of some sort and possibly raise animals as well.  That's
going to require some work, of course.  Local stores and the such
should have some sort of seeds that we can use to start off our
crops.  What we need to do first is to locate a good base of
operations within the city which corresponds to specific
characteristics we desire.  Remember, the Callasius isn't exactly
small.  We're going to need a fairly large area to set her down in.
And we're also to going to need an area like a park that we can turn
to crops.  The city has a variety of systems that have been shut
down and we hardly have the manpower to operate them.  That means
that we're going to have to jury-rig our own sewage treatment
systems.  Now Silva tells us that the reactor bottle can take a
helluva lot of stress, but I'd prefer not to stretch that too far.
That means possibly activiting the local power plant to provide
electricity for the city's entire grid."
    "Lieutenant," said Bryant, "that will require us to set down the
Callasius nearby the power plant, correct?  That will strictly
reduce our possible locations to roughly a seven kilometer radius,
I'd say.  Anyone remember how many miles in a kilometer?  These damn
maps are in miles . . ."
    "One point six, sir," piped up a sergeant.
    "Thank you, Bradley.  Now the location here looks good.  The
problem is that it's not very popular to place housing nearby power
plants.  Any crops we have may fall beyond our ability to protect
them from enemy attack."
    "Sir, that's suggesting that there are enemies which will attack
us," remarked Martique.  "We have little clue, if any, where we are
save for the fact that this seems to be 20th Century Earth.  This
isn't any Earth that we have known or read about, though.  I believe
that it's safe to say that the Combine are the least of our
worries, sir."
    Captain Bryant nodded.  "I can accept that.  I take it we'll
have to take some of our soldiers out of uniform and put them to
handling the power plants and fields then as well as foraging for
food and equipment."
    "Probably, sir.  While we could put some of the soldiers on a
rotational basis for certain tasks, we'll need to train specific
soldiers for operating the power plant if we deem it necessary.  It
might actually be possible to connect our own reactor to the power
grid and bypass many problems."

    "So this is Earth, eh?"
    A soldier leaned himself against a brick wall.  His friend
behind him snorted.
    "Looks just like all the rest.  Great damn antiques here,
though, eh?"
    "Christ, yeah.  Where's all the goddamn forests and animals
supposed to be?  Don't see nothing but concrete and buildings
everywhere."
    "Crazy, you saw them back at that forest."
    "Forest my arse.  They're growing better forests on Mars.  Nice
sky, though."
    "Clouds are in the way."
    "Mmm.  Yeah.  Want some water?"
    "Thought you'd never ask."
    They sat for a time in silence.
    "Barry?"
    "Yeah, Rich?"
    "Gotta light?"
    Barry pulled a pack from his pocket.  "Take your pick."
    "Not bad for a city.  Reminds me of the frontier, you know?
Border cities on the edge of the empires.  Real nice places, if you
know what I'm talking about."
    "Yeah, that I know."

    "Hey.  Hey!  I've got infrared pickups on Charlie 1!  Humanoid
forms!  120 kilometers south of our location!"  The scientist
excitedly put the display on the main screen.
    "There's something wrong with the focus," Bryant said.  He
leaned toward the screen.  "Give us better resolution."
    "Roger!"
    The screen blinked for a moment as the flight unit moved in
closer.  As the infrared scan intensified, something began to crawl
in Bryant's stomach.
    "I want visuals on that," he said.
    "Can't, sir, he's in a building.  Our only chance is if he goes
past a window."
    "Well, dammit, get Charlie up to a window!" barked Bryant.
    The infrared scan switched to raw visuals.  The building was of
a standard 20th Century concrete type with small glass windows.  An
apartment complex or hotel of some sort, Bryant guessed.
    "Humanoid moving."
    What passed by the window in that short moment was tall and red,
its upper torso well-defined, tapering down to a waist and then
spreading out again at the hips.  It was chitinous and altogether
inhuman.
    "Dear jesus," whispered Bryant.  "Where is that compared to our
location?  Morris!"
    "Umm, Charlie's due south of us, 120 kilometers, a city nearly
one called Stockton, I gather.  What the hell was that?"
    Bryant stood from his chair.  "I want stills of that thing.
Full blowup and image enhancement.  There will be a war meeting in
my office within the hour."

    For a moment the warrior noticed a shining object on the horizon
but then it was gone.  It was probably the Elders working their
magics again.  He returned to his task at hand.

    The pictures began to fill the screen.  The alien had an
insectoid head with eye slits.  A pair of antennae and what looked
like fur adorned its head in patches.  The being's body was hard and
chitinous and suggested great strength.  Great claws hung off of its
left hand.
    "A costume, perhaps?" asked Martique.
    A scientist shook his head.  "Improbable.  That thing seems
definitely inhuman to me.  I doubt that you'd be able to fit a
realistic human body into that exoskeleton.  Possibly a robot or
something on that order.  I'll put my bets on the alien, though."
    Bryant walked up to the display screen.  "Alright, we're going
to need more information on these things.  What they're up to, where
they're from, everything we can get.  I want Charlie 1 and 2 in the
air ASAP and a 24-hour watch.  If any of those things enters our
area I want them to be treated with absolute caution.  We don't know
if they're friendly or not."
    "I'd say that with those claws they sure as hell aren't
friendly," a sergeant said.  "You think they eat people for dinner?"
    "Cut it out, Sutcliffe.  What if some plague hit this planet?
What if they ARE friendly?  We can't take chances and we certainly
don't know what our odds would be if we started a war now.  For all
we know they're all over this planet."
    Sutcliffe rose to his feet.  "So we call up a battle order,
launch some battleships down the pipe, and bombard this planet from
orbit.  Sounds pretty straightforward to me."
    "You're forgetting, sergeant, that we CAN'T call up a battle
order.  We're shut off from Alliance headquarters and everything
else.  Whatever and wherever this planet is, it has no access to our
homes.  For all we know, this is some other universe."
    Soldiers traded glances.
    Martique shook his head sadly.  "Regardless, we should prepare
for war.  I want all scouts, guards, and sentries in powered armor
around the clock.  And we'll be needing more flight units if we're
to protect our permimeter."
    Bryant trained a cocked eyebrow in Martique's direction.
"Lieutenant, do you truly feel that this is necessary?"
    "Sir, I do."
    "Then carry on."
    With this new threat, the Americans and Asians all seemed so
small, so miniscule, so inconsequential . . .

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Date:      September 9, 1992
Location:  Northern California
           Otherworld
Time:      1:04 pm

    They had been assigned to outer perimeter duty:  Rich Clemmons
and Barry Luther.  They marched down the street and turned the
corner to continue their detail.  Infrared sensors started to
scream.  Two units, approximately 100 meters away!  Their cameras
said that nothing was there, though!  Barry flipped back to IR.
There they were.  Just like the Asians and their camouflage suits.
    "Barry?"
    "I've got it, Rich.  Flip to IR.  They're there."
    Pressed against the wall like Asian cowards, hiding trying to
flee.  "We know how to deal with these, Rich.  Kill the fucks!"  It
was like the Altair wars again, hunting down the Asian ninjas in the
streets with only fuzzy IR readouts as targets.
    "They're history."  The two leveled their rifles just as the two
skulks turned to run.  A burst from each gun dropped the skulks to
the ground, their bodies bleeding a thick ichor.  Two more bursts
and they died, silently.
    "Ugly bastards.  Look at this shit.  C'mere, Barry."
    Rich prodded one of the bodies with the toe of his suit.  "This
is Corporal Clemmons to HQ.  Repeat, Clemmons to HQ.  We've come in
contact with the enemy and have attacked them.  They possessed some
sort of cloak system like the Combine."
    Static crackled over the intercom, covering up soft cursing.
    "Roger that, Clemmons.  You and Luther return to base.  We're
radioing your position in now to agravs: let them take care of the
bodies."
    "Roger, HQ.  C'mon Barry, let's get back to base."
    "Yeah, yeah.  Y'know, in the history books we might go down as
the first people to start a war with another race?  Wonder if that's
a thing to be proud of."
    "Hey, man, we didn't start the war.  They did.  You heard the
reports from the sarge.  Don't try and fool yourself into guilt.
C'mon, man, it's time to go.  C'mon!"
    "Okay."

    "Well?" asked Martique.
    Bryant cursed.  "They should have waited.  They should have
checked in with us before acting."
    "Sir, those beings were hidden.  It was only becaue of the
infrared sensors that our soldiers saw them.  Remember that Clemmons
and Luther both were active in the Altair conflicts.  They acted in
the exact manner that they were trained."
    "You're right, of course.  But now it's probably war.  How much
longer before the new flight units are operable?"
    "The techs say two more hours.  They're being wired for better
electronics scanning.  We should find them far more effective than
Charlie 1 and 2, especially during night scans."
    "Excellent.  I want two trained on the ET area at all times.
The others will be running perimeter checks.  Any luck at supplying
power to the city?"
    "Right now, sir, we're still patching into their grid.  It's
going to take some time, especially with our work split so many
ways.  And none of us here are agriculturists.  Dell was, but we
left him back in the infirmary.  We probably won't be getting viable
crops for quite a while.  And if we get involved in a war in the
meantime . . ."
    Bryant sank into his chair.  "Yes.  Alright, we continue work on
our food supply but terminate it immediately if we get involved in a
conflict with these aliens.  Acceptable?"
    "Yes, sir, it is."
    "Good.  I want the techs working double-time on those flight
units.  They're integral to our defenses.  Double the guards along
our perimeter."
    "Yes, sir."
    Martique turned and marched out of the room.  Behind him the
door slid shut with a soft hum of machinery.  Bryant recalled the
image of the Eternal on his computer.  Its form implied strength and
power.  Perhaps it was a warrior of its race.  Would all of them
look this way?  The two they had met had died with ease.  Only time
could tell.

    "These are definitely different from the one our flight unit
spied.  Look, these are spinier and thinner.  Their heads are
radically-sloped with long tapered ears.  Intriguing.  The fact that
the two of these are similar in their design, I'd say that the
aliens may have some sort of structure that separates different
physical types into different specialities.  In this case, these
must have been spies of some sort.  This is all speculation, of
course."
    The corpses were already beginning to smell.  Bryant was glad
that they hadn't used his office to examine them.
    "Any special reason for their blood?" Bryant asked.
    "None that I can tell at this time, sir.  We'd need better
computers than the ones we've got on this ship to do a complete
breakdown of the aliens and even then the reliability of the
information would be sketchy."
    He turned and called up a hologram.  "Now this is a scan we did
of their structure.  Notice that they have a very hard exoskeleton.
But underneath that exoskeleton is a complete bone structure as well
along with a circulatory system similar to our own.  Their hearts
are more defined, though, and separated into very specific sections.
What I take to be their brain is roughly the same size as ours,
although its makeup is quite foreign."
    "Interesting.  So what does this tell us?" asked Bryant.
    "Not much.  They're definitely alien, though.  It'll take me
more time to learn about their body chemistry and it doesn't help
that these are dead.  Have you noticed that they didn't have any
clothing?  And I don't see any cloaking devices on their bodies.
How did they accomplish the cloaking effect?  We have a lot of
questions that just don't have any answers as of yet."
    "Mmm hmm.  Okay, get to work.  Assign Levitt to your section.
He's had E.T. training in the past, as I recall.  I want the
surveillance teams to work closely with you, understand? We need as
much information as possible on these aliens."
    "As you wish, sir."
    "Men, whether or not these aliens are hostile, our actions
against them may have started the first interstellar war in the
history of mankind.  We must try, if at all possible, to negotiate
with them.  If this proves impossible, then we must gear ourselves
for battle.  We are only a handful of soldiers, though.  Are we
prepared to die here?"
    Martique carefully rubbed his fingernail against the desk.
"Sir," he said, "if this is a true contigent of aliens, our hopes of
making a worthwhile stand against them is minimal.  If at all
possible, I would prefer a strategic retreat.  This would be
impossible, though, without greater information on this planet and
the aliens.  Do they possess space travel capabilities?  Is it
possible for us to repair our reactor and flee if we sustain losses
greater than we can handle?  If we mus accept the responsibility for
starting war, we must then also accept the responsibility for
whatever information we have on these aliens.  At the very least we
must endeavor to launch a capsule with information on these
creatures and this planet to Alliance HQ."
    "Do the others agree with this?  Is this what is on your minds?"
    Silent, stony faces stared back at Bryant.  He searched their
eyes for a long moment, viewing their determination, their unease.
    "Then this is the course of action we will take.  We do indeed
have a heavy weight on our heads and we must learn to accept it.  We
do have the responsibility for returning to Alliance HQ with what
information we can gather.  If these turn out to be a warlike
species of alien, we must prepare our worlds against attack.  These
are our greatest responsibilities above and beyond all else.  There
are other questions which I must ask first, though.
    "The first is:  where are we?  Our computers have told us time
and time again that we are on the planet Earth in the late 20th
Century.  Certainly this cannot be.  There are no people here.  And
yet that is what my own eyes tell me.  These aliens inhabit this
planet and walk its street in fear; they use cloaking systems
similar to the Combine ninjas.  Therefore they might not be the only
factions on this planet.  We may have somehow come across a massive
fluke or perhaps an alternate reality.  We may never know.  Our
actions here may have no affect on our homes at all if we are not
even in our own universe.  And if this is true, then I must raise
another question.
    "Is it possible to go home?  Will we ever go home?  Are we
capable of accepting the fact that we may spend the rest of our
lives here on this planet without hope of rescue?  Please, do not
answer me.  These are questions for you to ask yourselves, to think
about tonight when you go to bed.  We may never see our families and
loved ones again.  We may die here, on an alien planet, without our
own kind knowing what happened to us."
    Bryant paused for a moment and took a sip from a glass.  Then he
continued.  "These are the things I have been thinking about myself.
The moral of our men may very well drop if they know that they are
doomed to this world.  And this we cannot accept!  We may be on the
brink of the gravest war we will have ever fought and we cannot face
such a responsibility with our hopes dashed and our pride destroyed!
I will stress this my friends, we WILL go home.  One way or another,
we WILL GO HOME!"
    His hand slammed down on the desk, marking the finality of his
statement.  Bryant spun around and left the room.

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