From: cmeadows@nyx.cs.du.edu (Chris Meadows)
Subject: Robotech/Rifts Crossover (part 1 of 7)
Followup-To: alt.prose
Organization: Nyx, Public Access Unix @ U. of Denver Math/CS dept.
Date: Tue, 1 Sep 1992 16:00:43 GMT

ROBOTECH/RIFTS CROSSOVER
 
By Chris Meadows (writing as "Jared Thorne")
 
 
 
Introduction: Overview
 
     ROBOTECH and RIFTS are two Role-Playing systems created by
Palladium Books.  ROBOTECH, adapted from the cartoon epic of the
same name, concerns a mysterious alien fortress that crash-lands
on earth.  This fortress is rebuilt by the planet's inhabitants.
A race of giant humanoids called the Zentraedi come to earth to
reclaim it, but the humans defeat them and they change sides.
They go to try to negotiate a peace treaty with the aliens'
masters, the Robotech Masters. Meanwhile, the Robotech Masters
send a fleet of ships to earth to reclaim the power source hidden
within the fortress, for they will lose their great power and
virtual immortality without it. The humans defeat the aliens at
great cost.  In the end, the power source is ruptured, releasing
the seeds of the Invid Flower of Life. This attracts the Invid, a
race of insectlike aliens, to earth. They enslave it, and by the
time the expeditionary force sent to find the Robotech Masters
returns, it is almost too late. However, they defeat the Invid,
and Earth is free once more.  In the series of novels, that's how
it stays.  But in the RPG, the Invid return after a few months.
There also happens to be a Robotech Masters ship, hidden away on
earth, and a rogue Russian militia group that has cooperated with
them, forming the basis for more RPG supplements.
     The power source, Protoculture, allowed some amazing feats.
Giant robots were created, and their control systems hooked
directly into the human brain, allowing the pilot to move the
robot around like it was his own body.  Spacefold engines were
used for warp speed drive.  The Veritech vehicles were
created--airplanes, tanks, and even motorcycles that transformed
into power armor units.
     RIFTS concerns another earth, where a nuclear war has
unlocked the gates of magic.  "Ley lines" of magical energy span
the earth, and interdimensional gates (rifts) open haphazardly,
allowing all sorts of creatures to enter earth. There are several
major nation-states in this time hundreds of years after the war.
The major one, the Coalition, encourages illiteracy in its
attempts to keep control of the people, and the practice of magic
is banned.  Here, too, are giant robots, albeit nuclear powered.
And Here There Be Dragons.
 
     This continuing story is slanted more toward those who have
seen/read ROBOTECH and/or RIFTS than those who haven't. That is
not to say that those of you who have not should not read this.
I'm just explaining that if I omit some details, it is because I
am something of an expert in the subject and tend to assume that
most people know as much as I do.
 
NOTE: Two characters in this story (so far) are real: Joe Moore,
currently a Freshman at Parkview High School, Springfield, MO;
and Chris Meadows (myself), currently a Freshman at Southwest
Missouri State University, also Springfield, MO.  Also, none of
the dimensions explicitly mentioned in this story is supposed to
be the "real" one--the one WE live in.  For example, neither Joe
nor I know martial arts or are working for--but I don't want to
spoil that part of the story.  Suffice it to say that we're just
two ordinary students, in "real life."
 
 
 
Chapter 1: Enter the Storm
 
 
     Streams of plasma and cannon fire crackled back and forth
between the two opposing forces.  On one side was the
newly-returned Robotech Expeditionary force, come back to earth
for the purpose of exacting vengeance upon the Invid who had
taken Earth.  On the other were the Invid themselves, returning
fire from their outpost Hive.
     The attacking force was perhaps the last of the organized
platoons remaining from the assault on Reflex Point.  Its mecha,
Protoculture-powered fighting vehicles, consisted of ten armored
Alpha fighters, six Beta, four Gladiators, four Excalibers, 1
Spartan, and 2 Raidar X, all of the smaller REF type.  There were
also dozens of Cyclone troops, who were currently deployed on the
outskirts of the battle to serve as early warning in case Invid
reinforcements showed up.
     But the prize vehicle of the division was the MTA-Titan
transport vehicle, which was large enough to carry mecha within
itself.
     The hive forces were light, as this was merely an outpost,
in what once had been south Florida.  The REF force's commander,
Lt. Col. Avery Bowaz, felt that the best place to strike would be
at an outpost, where the defenses were thinnest.  Also, this hive
overlooked the finest crop of Invid Flowers, the source of the
Protoculture energy, for hundreds of miles.
 
     The Cyclone scout deployed on the southern tip of the
peninsula, about twenty miles away, saw it first.  He raised his
multi-optics binoculars to his face and gasped. Approaching from
the south was a gigantic column of water--or so he thought.
There was something that didn't look right about it...He switched
over to ultraviolet mode on the binocs.  And he saw that the
entire thing was glowing blue.  And it went straight up into the
sky seemingly without end.
     The trooper remembered something he'd read about a
mysterious area of the ocean just south of Florida, where ships
and planes had been disappearing for centuries.  Then it clicked.
"Omigodomigodomigod," he said.  "I'm outta here!"  He kicked in
the turbos on the Cyclone and burned rubber for the GMU.
 
     From the cockpit of the mighty vehicle, currently positioned
ten miles south of the hive, Lt. Col. Bowaz surveyed the battle
through computer reports and gunsight camera transmissions.  "It
seems to be going well, wouldn't you say?" he asked his XO,
Captain Steele.
     "It appears that we're winning."  Steele, about 28, observed
hesitantly.  He was always reluctant to make observations or
assertions until he was sure of the outcome.  "I had reservations
about sending such a small force up against a hive, even one this
small.  But it appears to be coming out all right."
     Just then, with much squealing of rubber, the scout rode up
into the mecha bay of the MTA-Titan.
     "What's that?" Bowaz asked.
     "I don't know, sir," Steele said.  "I'll find out."  He got
on the intercom to the trooper.  "We need to see you on the
bridge," he said.  He shut off the 'com.  "He says he's on his
way."
     Five minutes later, the Cyclone pilot made his appearance on
the bridge of the GMU (Ground Mobile Unit)/Titan.  "Sir, we gotta
get out of here," he panted. "There's some sort of wierd storm
coming this way!  Up off the Bermuda Triangle!"
     Bowaz turned to the young man to reassure him.  "Don't
worry, son," he said in his most fatherly voice (Though he was
only 44, his graying hair made him seem to be much older, a fact
he never belied, for it made him more acceptable as a father
figure to these young men).  "The GMU'll weather the storm.  Not
even a hurricane could hurt us."
     "Sir, I haven't told you what was strange about it yet," the
Cyc scout said.  He panted for a few seconds, then went on.
"That storm was real heavy in the ultraviolet, sir.  And it
didn't seem to have an end."
     "Oh, that's nothing to worry about," Bowaz said. "Storms on
earth ALWAYS give off ultraviolet."  He gave Steele a look that
said, "You'll back me up if you know what's good for you."
     "Yeah, yeah," Steele said.  "They always do."
     Bowaz reassured the young man some more and sent him down to
the dispensary for some coffee.  As soon as he was gone, Lt. Col
Bowaz said, "Well, Rem, what do you think?" Rem was Bowaz's
private name for Steele, based on an old 20th century detective
show he'd seen on the vid.
     "I think I'd better start calling in the fighters.  If there
really is a storm approaching, we need as many mecha as possible
under shelter."
     "Right, make it so.  I'm going to my quarters."  As Bowaz
left, Steele sent out the recall signal.  Then he moved down to
the science station and punched for a comprehensive scan of the
storm.  It was just a hunch, but hunches had a nasty way of
coming true.
 
 
 
Chapter 2: Transition
 
 
     As the mecha forces regrouped to weather the storm, Captain
Steele was examining the scan results worriedly. This storm was
giving off readings like he'd never seen. Steele was no science
officer, but he knew how a storm was supposed to scan.  And this
one was breaking all the rules.
     Radar didn't pick it up.  In fact, it picked up nothing at
all in that area or even behind it.  It was as if all the radio
waves were simply vanishing upon impact with the storm.  Laser
probes, same thing.  And some strange radiation was being emitted
from the center of the phenomenon.
     Steele hit the intercom button.  "Get me Lieutenant Martin
Jackson," he ordered the computer.  In about thirty seconds, it
beeped and Jackson came on-line.  "Sir?"
     "Lieutenant, get up here please.  I have some figures I need
interpreted by a scientific mind."
     "On my way."
 
     Five minutes later, the Lieutenant was on the bridge. He was
a young man of about 19, just out of Officers' Candidate School
on the SDF-3 before the journey to earth. He had a light
complexion, and a shock of unruly blonde, almost white, hair.
And he was a Field Scientist.
     By now the storm was clearly visible from the GMU. Several
mecha pilots were commenting on it, and some were even in favor
of leaving.  But none would violate his orders; they had been
trained too well for that.
     Jackson looked at the printouts, then looked up in
consternation.  "This thing, whatever it is, shouldn't exist."
     "Take another look.  It DOES exist, and it's bearing down on
us at approximately 23.2 knots, bearing 177x. It'll be on us in
less than half an hour."
 
     The storm relentlessly approached.  As it got closer, Steele
began to consider the possibility of evacuation.  The MTA-Titan
would easily make better than 24 mph, so they could keep ahead of
the thing.  The problem with that was that they would be easily
visible to the Invid.
     Man does not face the unknown easily, Steele reflected to
himself as the storm came ever-closer.  He fought down the urge
to hop in a plane or on a Cyclone and not stop until he reached
Canada.  Jackson, meanwhile, was ecstatic. "I'm going to be
famous!  They'll call it Jackson's Phenomena, or Jackson's
Storm."
     "Or Jackson's Bane," Steele suggested.  "Or Jackson's Doom,
or Jackson's Death, or..."
     Lieutenant Jackson ignored him, looking instead out the
window at the storm.  It now resembled a giant wall of blue,
glowing clouds.  Everybody could tell that it wasn't a normal
storm, but they all stood fast.
     "Look at that," Jackson pointed out.  "There's no wind or
anything.  The trees and grasses aren't stirring."  He ran to the
elevator.  "I'm suiting up in my Cyclone and going out there with
a scan dihilator."
     But he didn't get the chance.  As he hit the elevator
button, with a whoosh as loud as a hundred airliners passing
overhead the storm was upon them!
 
     An electric blue mist pervaded everywhere.  Time seemed to
slow down, and everything had a double-image.  This is just like
spacefolding, Steele thought.  He turned and hit some buttons on
the console.  No good.  All computer systems were locked.
     Steele could no longer see the ground, sky, or surrounding
landscape.  Oddly enough, he COULD see the Veritech and Destroid
mecha that were standing guard around the GMU.
     Time passed timelessly.  Had he been asked, later, how much
time the transition had taken, he could not have said whether it
was a minute, an hour, or a year.  All he knew was that one
instant all was blue, and the next they were in normal space
again.
     The first thing Captain Steele noticed was that the GMU was
sinking fast into the water.  "Help me here!" he yelled at
Jackson who was standing frozen in front of the elevator. "I have
to engage the propulsion systems!"  He jumped into the pilot's
seat and punched buttons.
     The GMU's built-in thrusters sputtered and came to life,
preventing the Titan from sinking into the sea. Lieutenant
Jackson helped with some of the controls, but wasn't really much
help.
     Lt. Col. Bowaz emerged from the elevator.  "What happened?
It can't have rained THAT much."
     "Sir, it didn't rain," Captain Steele said.
     "Eh?  What do you mean?"
     Lieutenant Jackson looked up from the sensor station. "Sir,
we passed through what seems to be a naturally-induced spacefold
field.  We are now somewhere...else."
     Steele gazed out the window.  They were floating in the
middle of some vast ocean.  The Alpha and Beta fighters were in
Guardian mode, hovering ten feet above the surface.  Of the
Destroids, there was no sign.
 
 
 
Chapter 3: Dinosaurs
 
 
     Fortunately, radio contact was soon reestablished with the
Destroid mecha.  They had sunk to the bottom of the sea, about
two to three hundred feet under, and would walk to shore and
rejoin the GMU and its Alpha escorts there.
     "Wherever that is," Lieutenant Jackson said gloomily.
     Captain Steele had moved over to one of the nav consoles.
"Radar indicates land about 40 miles to the north."
     Lt. Colonel Bowaz listened to the tale of the spacewarp.
"You mean, we're now on some other planet?" he said, as the full
import of the phenomenon hit him.
     "No, sir, we're not," Jackson said.  "At least, I don't
think we are."
     "Explain," Bowaz said.
     "This planet's gravity, magnetic field, atmospheric
composition, almost EVERYTHING, match up to Earth's norms to
within a thousand decimal places," the science lieutenant
explained.  "There's some unexplained electromagnetic and seismic
activity, but that's minor compared to these results.  And at
nightfall, I'll be able to get an astral fix by the stars.  But I
don't think it'll be necessary. Sir, we ARE on earth.  But
it's...different somehow."
     "Get the rest of the bridge crew up here," Bowaz said.
"Something tells me we'd better be at full defensive capacity for
the next few days."
 
     "Sir, we've got something on radar," the tech said.
"Something BIG."
     Bowaz was at the console instantly.  "What?  Where?"
     "There, sir."  The console operator pointed at the blip.
"Signature similar to certain Invid carnosaurs."  The tech was
referring to the Invid's genetic experiments which had produced
dinosaurs and similar life forms from the planet's past.
     "What's the range?"
     "22 miles."
     "Have an Alpha fighter check it out."
     "On it already, sir."
 
     The creature turned out to be a brontosaur-type beast,
placidly grazing in one of the shallower areas of the sea. Bowaz
gazed at the relay pictures thoughtfully.  "Could we be in the
interior of some sort of gigantic Genesis Pit?" he wondered.
"The Invid used them to create mutated life forms.  I've never
heard of one this big, though."
 
     When at last they reached land, the sun was beginning to go
down.  Colonel Bowaz posted perimeter guards, and even
participated in the first watch himself, in his Saber Cyclone
motorcycle/power armor.
     As the stars began to come out, Captain Steele noticed an
eerie blue glow on the horizon to the northeast.  He instructed
the GMU's main computer to analyze the light for possible
sources.  The computer cogitated for five minutes, then spewed
forth the answer: UNABLE TO OBTAIN QUANTITATIVE ANALYSIS.
POSSIBLE SOURCES INCLUDE PERYTONIAN "MAGIC" (5% PROBABILITY), ARC
LAMPS (3% PROBABILITY), PROTOCULTURE PLANT (2% PROBABILITY), OR
UNKNOWN (90% PROBABILITY).
     Steele was so involved in this work that he didn't notice
the stars themselves.  It was Lt. Jackson who said, "Hey, look!
Those stars are Earth's!"
     And it was true.  Out of the stars that weren't blotted out
by the glow, Steele could make out the Big Dipper, Orion, and
several other familiar constellations.  Jackson operated the
navigation computer.  "According to the star shots, we're in
about the middle of Florida.  Apparently the southern half of the
state is gone."  That was the second sign that all was not as it
seemed.
     "But what is that blue glow?" Steele wondered.
 
     At about midnight, the Destroids made their way ashore,
dripping water and slime from their submersion.  It was good that
they did, for an hour later the dinosaurs came.
 
     The tech who was working the radar noticed them first. "Sir,
we have thirty-plus blips on radar to the north, heading this
way," he said to the officer of the watch. "Speed, twenty-five
mph.  ETA, 5 minutes."
     "How did they get this close without being detected?" the
officer asked.
     "There's too much ground clutter to get a decent reading,"
the tech said, shoving the Mechanoids comic book under the
console with his foot.
     The officer hit the alert button on the communication
console.  Within one minute, 30 Cyclone riders, plus all ten
Alpha fighters, four of the six Betas, and all of the Destroids,
the non-transformable fighting machines, were up and ready for
combat.  In another minute, the other two Betas were fully
powered.
     Minutes later, thirty Tyrannosaurus Rex dinos thundered into
the area.
 
     These meat-eating mosters were big brutes.  Each was around
forty to fifty feet tall--twice as tall as an Alpha. Fighting was
tooth and claw.  Captain Steele in his Saber Cyclone managed to
decapitate three of them with the electro-force field CADS (Close
Assault and Defense System) blades, and destroyed two more with
mini-missiles from the breast compartments of the Cyclone.
     When the battle was over, two Cyclones had been damaged, but
nobody had been seriously hurt.  There was dinosaur meat lying
all around the camp, and some of the more enterprising soldiers
sliced off some of the less dirty portions and roasted them.
     "What other surprises do we have in store for us?" Colonel
Bowaz wondered.
 
 
 
Chapter 4: Encounter
 
 
     The next day, the force moved out of its previous
encampment, heading north.  Colonel Bowaz decided to keep to the
east side of the peninsula and then explore the interior of the
continent.
     As a precaution, Cyclone scouts were sent ahead, and the
battlegroup's two Recon Alpha fighters flew point. "Remember,
keep an eye out for danger," Bowaz needlessly admonished.  "We
don't know who or what is out here."
     They got their first inkling that trouble might lie ahead at
about ten a.m.  Corporal Felix Weidmann was riding through the
marshy ground about twenty miles ahead of the GMU.  He was
closely monitoring his short-range radar, for he didn't intend to
get caught by any dinosaurs if he could help it.
     Suddenly he noticed a blip coming from the north at about
120 mph.  It registered as being approximately human sized, at an
altitude of 150 feet.  He reported over the radio to the GMU:
"I've spotted a bogey.  Going aerial to investigate."  Weidmann
triggered the transformation, and the motorcycle reconfigured and
attached itself to his body armor, becoming a mobile power armor
suit.  The rifle-like cannon that had been mounted by the front
wheel was now in his right hand; and the rocket tubes that had
been on the hubs were now on his forearms.  Corporal Weidmann
jumped and engaged the boosters on the Cyclone's rear.  With a
whoosh, he shot up to a hundred and fifty feet and hovered there.
     The bogey was now in sight.  Felix gasped at the look of the
thing.  He could tell that it had to be some sort of flying power
armor, but what kind?  It was totally black except for a red
crest on the back of its head, and it had wings and air intakes
at the shoulders.  There were five spikes on each knee and elbow,
arranged in an "X" pattern, and there were aerial stabilizers on
each thigh to match the wings.  For weapons, it carried some sort
of long-barrelled rifle with an ammo-belt feeder leading back
around the right hip, and there was some sort of mini-missile
device built into the left forearm.
     But what struck Corporal Weidmann the most about the armor
was the shape of the helmet--a stylized, evil-looking skull.
     Weidmann described the thing quickly.  "It sure doesn't look
friendly," he said.
     "Try an all-frequencies broadcast," Lt. Col. Bowaz
suggested.  "It has to have a radio built-in.  Above all, don't
make any moves that could be interpreted as hostile."
     "I'm afraid it's too late for that," Weidmann responded as
the strange armor suit began to raise its rifle.  "He's already
making one."  Weidmann calmly dodged as the opposing gun fired,
and activated his targeting sensor.  It rose out of the right
shoulder and positioned itself in front of his eye, feeding him
precise data on the target.  The enemy (for thus had Weidmann
decided that it was) fired again, again missing the Cyclone
armor.
     Weidmann got a lock.  "Chew on THIS, pal," he muttered,
releasing all twelve of the Cyclone's armor-piercing
minimissiles.  The armor suit tried to dodge, but failed
miserably.  It exploded in a ball of flame!  Debris and chunks of
roasted flesh embedded themselves in the marsh below.
     Corporal Weidmann dropped to the ground to look at the
pieces.  As he neared the blast site, his Cyclone's built-in
dosimeter warned him that radiation levels were maxing out.
"Sheesh, these guys use nuclear power?  That's dangerous." But he
wasn't worried--even the body armor he wore beneath the Cyclone
power armor was impervious to radiation levels over twice as high
as this.
     One of the things Felix noticed was that the gun the armor
suit had carried, as well as the canister that the belt-feeder
was attached to, was lying on a mud bank, relatively intact.  He
went over to it and picked it up, sliding his EP-40 60mm pulse
cannon into the storage bracket on his left forearm plate.
     The gun was actually in great shape, considering it had
fallen 150 feet.  "I wonder if it'll still fire..." Corporal
Weidmann pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. Then he
noticed the severed power cord leading out of the rifle.  "Must
be a lead-in to the nuclear power plant of the armor," he
surmised.  "I'd better take it back to the GMU and have our
armorer take a look at it."
 
     "This is amazing.  Simply amazing," Sgt. Barry Irrout said,
examining the rifle inside the mecha garage facility of the GMU.
"In all my years as a Bio-Maintenance Engineer, I've never seen a
railgun this compact.  I can barely even recognize it."
     "Railgun?" Corporal Weidmann asked.  He, along with
Lieutenant Martin Jackson, Lieutenant Colonel Avery Bowaz, and
Captain Steele, was in the garage also, curious to see what he
had captured.  A team of three field scientists was currently
examining the rest of the wreckage, in the field.
     "Yeah, railgun," Jackson said.  "A kind of magnetic
acceleration device that fires metal slugs at hypersonic
velocities.  Kinetic energy released on impact is terrific."
     "They toyed with the concept in the early 1990's, I
understand, when the Global Civil War was in its opening stages,"
Captain Steele offered.  "As the costs of the war grew, they had
to scrap all their research projects to spend all the money they
could on the war effort.  When the SDF-1 arrived, they never got
around to much research.  Oh, the SDF and some experimental
M.A.C.-II destroids were fitted with railgun cannons, but I don't
think we ever came up with anything this small."
     "Correct.  And if this power pack I've jury-rigged works,
we're just about to see how powerful it really is," Irrout said,
raising the gun and pointing it out the open garage door.
     "Wait a minute," Weidmann said, taking the gun from his
hands.  "I'm the one wearing Cyclone power armor.  Why don't I
take the first shot?"
     He aimed the gun out at a nearby tree.  "Okay..."  The
targeting scope moved into position.  Weidmann fired.  The tree
was shredded.  "Wow!  That's as powerful as my EP-37." The
amazing power of this weapon left them all wondering what they
would encounter next.
 
 
 
Chapter 5: Magic
 
 
     As the convoy moved further and further north, the blue glow
Steele had noticed the night before became visible in the
daylight, finally presenting itself as a thousand-foot-high wall
spanning the horizon.  Alpha fighters sent ahead on recon
reported that the blue, glowing phenonena was about a half mile
wide and seemed to stretch from east to west across this part of
Florida.
     At last Steele commandeered a Recon Alpha and flew on up to
investigate the phenomenon himself.  He landed the Alpha by the
great blue glowing line, pulled off his flight helmet, and
climbed out.
     When he dropped to the ground, the first thing he noticed
was that there was another person here.  She was standing next to
the boundary of the line, looking up at the plane.
     Steele looked at her, did a double take, and then a triple
take.  This woman was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
Her body was well-endowed physically, with flesh in all the right
places.  The leather breeches and jerkin she wore were designed
to accent this, with slits and tucks in strategic locations.
     Her light blonde, almost white, hair fell to below her
waist.  Her pale yet robust complexion and sparkling ice-blue
eyes were very compelling, and Steele had to physically wrench
his head away to keep from staring.
     The woman spoke.  "That is an amazing vehicle," she said in
a delicately accented voice.  "I have never seen anything like
it."
     "Well...ah...it's a VAF-6R Alpha Recon Fighter, ah..."
Steele was amazed at himself.  He had just met the most beautiful
woman he'd ever seen in his life, and he was babbling inanely
about his Veritech fighter.
     "I am Sherelynn," the woman said.
     "Uh, Captain Steele of the um...er...Robotech Expeditionary
Force."  He tried hard to look at her without gawking, and wasn't
sure whether or not he was succeeding.
     She apparently noted his distress, and smiled.  "Many men
find me attractive.  Most of them were not as chivalrous about it
as you."
     Steele tried to change the subject.  "What is...this?" he
asked, sweeping his hand at the blue glowing wall of light.
     "You don't know?" she asked.
     "Well, they, er, don't have them where I come from."
     She scrutinized him.  "Ah.  You must be a D-Bee, then."
     "A what?" Captain Steele asked, puzzled.
     She cocked her head.  "D-Bee.  It's the current human slang
word for 'Dimensional Being,' a person or animal from another
dimension."
     Steele filed that away for future inquisition, then got back
to the blue phenomenon.  "And this?"
     "A ley line."
     "Huh?"
     The woman looked at him as if he were an ignorant child.  "I
suppose I will have to tell you the story from the beginning."
     And so they sat down together, and Sherelynn told Steele
about this different world that the GMU and its inhabitants found
itself in.  Through the tale, he sat so entranced by her beauty
that he hardly paid much attention at all to the story she was
telling.
     When Sherelynn finished her tale, Steele asked, "Could you
come back with me to our mobile base of operations and tell what
you just told me to my commanding officer?"
     She shrugged.  "Very well.  If you don't mind if I sit in
your lap on the way back--that cockpit looks rather small."
     Steele didn't mind.
 
     Steele had radioed in ahead of time that he was bringing a
guest.  What he had neglected to say was how beautiful the guest
was.  As he helped Sherelynn down from the cockpit of the Alpha
fighter, Steele was conscious of all the stares they were
getting.  All the male soldiers nearby were staring jealously at
him, and all the female soldiers were staring enviously at
Sherelynn.
     When they got to the briefing room, all the major officers
of the division had assembled, to hear what Sherelynn had to say.
"I had no idea I would be addressing such a large audience,"
Sherelynn said.
     "It doesn't bother you, does it?" Steele asked, feeling like
a fool as soon as he said it.
     "No.  It just surprises me.  But it is better this way...I
only have to tell my tale once more."
     Steele ushered her to her seat at the head of the table,
then took the seat to her left.  Lt. Colonel Bowaz, as the
highest ranking officer, sat to her right.  Lt. Jackson sat
farther down the table, as did Corporal Weidmann.
     Sherelynn began her story.
 
     "First of all, you must understand that you are no longer on
your world, or even in your dimension.  This world probably had
much the same history as yours, judging by the fact that you are
all human.  The same history, up to a point.
     "It all began several hundred years ago, by human
estimation.  Nobody knows exactly when.  A war was touched off,
using great weapons of mass destruction.
     "What the people did not know was that this war occured at a
time of a crucial conjunction of planets.  Thus, as all the
billions of people died, their psychic energy was channeled into
the countless ley lines that spanned the planet, causing them to
flare up.  With this magical awakening, many more people died; it
was a loop that fed back on itself.
     "When it was over, Earth had magic.  That blue disturbance
to the north is a ley line; magicians can draw magic from them.
But something came with the ley lines; something not usually
good. The Rifts."  She paused for dramatic emphasis.  "The Rifts
are dimensional portals, through which beings from other
universes may pass, and often do.  Some are human, like
yourselves...others are monstrous."  She shuddered.
     "Much of the continent of North America is now controlled by
the Coalition States, a tyrannical empire built on fear and
illiteracy.  You had best stay away from them, for they have
powerful forces, and this vehicle would represent an immense
prize to them."
     Corporal Weidmann spoke up.  "Would these forces wear black,
skeletal-looking power armor, and carry railgun rifles?"
     "Yes, they do," Sherelynn replied.  "Have you encountered
any?"
     "We destroyed one of them," Lt. Col Bowaz replied.
     "Then you may be in trouble," Sherelynn said.  "They have
far, far larger war machines, including robots and tanks."
     "With our mecha, I'm not worried," Weidmann said.
     "Hold on a minute, young lady," Bowaz said.  For some
reason, Sherelynn smiled when he said the words, "Young lady."
"You're telling us that we're actually in another dimension,
another universe than ours?"
     "Quite possibly another time, as well," Sherelynn said.
     "Then that means that I'm the acting commander of the REF,
as there is nobody in this universe who outranks me," Bowaz said
thoughtfully.  "This requires some thinking."
 
     The meeting was adjourned soon after that.  Steele showed
Sherelynn around the GMU, then offered to find her a room in
which to stay the night.  She declined.
     "Thank you, no.  I prefer to sleep in the wilderness," she
said.  "I must return to the woods soon, in fact, and I must go
alone.  But I will be back another time..."
     Steele tried to dissuade her, but when she looked at him,
all his arguments stuck in his throat.  She shouldered the
battered old backpack she carried and walked out of the camp.
 
 
 
Chapter 6: Glitter
 
 
     The next morning, as Col. Bowaz gave the order to move out,
the woman Sherelynn showed up again.  Steele was glad to see her.
     After excusing himself from the bridge, Steele showed her to
his private quarters.  As she removed her pack (moving in a way
that would have made a stone sit up and take notice), Captain
Steele noticed, seemingly for the first time, the large handgun
she wore at her waist.  "May I see that?" he asked.
     "Of course," she said, removing it from the holster and
handing it over by the barrel.  Steele nearly dropped it. "This
must weigh fifteen pounds!" he said.
     "Closer to thirteen, actually. But it's what I need." She
took hold of it and pointed out the features.  Steele peered
closely at it.  It was an angular weapon, with a small upper
barrel and a larger lower one.  There was a pump-action of some
sort on the lower barrel, and a curved clip feeding into the
back.  There was another clip slid into the pistol's handle.
"You see, it's a combination laser and grenade launcher."
     "It must have an immense kick to it," Steele said, handing
it back to her.
     "I can handle it," she said, and Steele didn't sense any
cockiness--it was as if she was merely stating a fact. He
wondered how it was possible that she could even carry it--she
didn't SEEM to have large muscles.
     "Where do you come from?" Steele asked, still trying not to
stare at her.  "What are you doing way out here in the middle of
nowhere?"
     Sherelynn shrugged.  "I was born in a land...very far away
from here.  I wander a great deal, and like to keep to myself.
This seemed like an ideal place, as there were no people within
miles and miles--only the dinosaurs, and they don't bother me."
Steele thought he got the impression that she was using "bother"
in the sense that meant "mess with" rather than in the sense that
meant "annoy," but dismissed it as ridiculous.
     "What do you do for a living?" he asked.  "I'm sorry for
asking so many questions, but I just want to know more about you.
You're a very...enchanting person."
     She chuckled, a tinkly laugh that sent shivers up and down
Steele's spine.  He was beginning to realize that he'd fallen,
and fallen hard for this girl.  "For a living? Actually, I don't
'work' exactly--not as you hu--people would define it.  I do hunt
occasionally, however."
     BEEP-BEEP!  BEEP-BEEP!  BEEP-BEEP!  The wrist-comm Steele
was wearing started going off.  "Yes?" Steele asked, irritated by
the distraction.
     "Sir, you're wanted at the cockpit," the tinny voice
proclaimed.  "There's something ahead of us you need to see."
     Steele thought a minute.  "I'll get to the mecha bay; it's
closer and my Cyclone's there."
     He started to leave the room when there was a horrifically
loud "WHOM!!!" and the whole room trembled. "Uh-oh," Sherelynn
said, drawing the gun.  "Wait a minute; I'm coming too."
     They ran down the corridors to the garage-like enclosure.
Steele asked into his wrist-comm, "What WAS that?!"
     "Sir, it was some kind of an, uh, warning shot, sir," the
bridge crewman said.
     "From what?!  That sounded like a sonic boom!"
     "Ah, sir, as near as the computer can figure out, it WAS."
     Steele entered the mecha bay and hurriedly suited up in his
Cyclone armor.  "Open the bay door and extend the ramp," he said.
     "But sir, that would breach integrity of the hull!  If that
thing creates another sonic boom, we'd all be deafened!" the
officer-on-watch said.
     "I don't care, just do it."  The soldier shrugged and pulled
the lever.  As the giant hatches slid open and the ramp slid out,
Steele converted to Cyclone Armor and tramped out.  Sherelynn,
with her pistol, was right behind him.
     "Perhaps you should stay inside..." he began.
     "Trust me, I can take care of myself," she said so
confidently that he began to believe she meant it.
     Steele stepped up, and got his first good look at the thing.
He gasped in astonishment.
     It was about a thousand feet away, and was being surrounded
by Cyclones.  It looked like some kind of robot. It stood about
eleven feet tall and seemed to be constructed almost entirely of
some chrome-type metal that reflected light almost perfectly.
There was a huge gun pod mounted on its right shoulder, and a
huge smoking hole in the ground about five hundred feet in front
of it.
     "That's Glitter Boy power armor," Sherelynn whispered to
Captain Steele.  "Created by the pre-Rifts U.S.A. for their
armored divisions.  Almost indestructible."
     "Is there a person inside that?" Steele asked.
     Sherelynn looked at him as if he were an idiot.  "Of course.
I said they're power armor."
     Steele shrugged.  "Just wanted to be sure."
     "I don't want any trouble," came a male voice out of a
loudspeaker somewhere on the Glitter Boy, "but I can probably
take out the lot of you if I have to.  So who wants to be first?"
     Steele turned to Sherelynn.  "Can he?"
     "He could probably destroy that armor you're in with one
blast of his gun."
     "I don't doubt it."  Steele activated his radio.
"Attention, all Cyclone Riders.  Stand down and back off.  I
repeat, stand down and back off."
     Though they appeared somewhat puzzled, the Cyclone Riders
did as ordered, lowering their weapons and backing off.  Steele
walked down the ramp and activated his own loudspeaker.  "I'm
sorry about that," he said.  "My men can get a little overzealous
when they perceive a possible threat to the GMU."
     The Glitter Boy shoved his gun down and back, so it rested,
muzzle pointing down, behind his shoulder.  "No harm done."  The
armor seemed to be peering at Steele's Cyclone. "Hmmm.  I've
never seen power armor of that type before."
     "That's rather mutual, I'm afraid," Steele said.  "We just
got in from another dimension ourselves."
     "Hmmm."  The Glitter Boy considered.  "That would explain
your strange armor and vehicles.  But I wouldn't go around
advertising that, if I were you.  It might make people
suspicious, if not overtly hostile."
     "I'll keep that in mind," Steele said.  Intuiting that the
Glitter Boy wasn't hostile, he thumbed the switch to change his
Sabre back to a motorcycle.  As he lifted the handlebars into
place and sat back down, the person in the Glitter Boy gasped,
seemingly unaware that he was still broadcasting.  "Wow!"
     "The miracles of Robotechnology," Steele muttered.
     "Robo-what?"
 
     Five minutes later, the GMU moved out again, with the
Glitter Boy aboard.  At first he had been suspicious, but the
chance to get a look at the transforming mecha had convinced him.
     The Glitter Boy pilot was a man of about twenty-five.  He
was about 5'11", with brown hair, glasses, and the beginnings of
a mustache.  He introduced himself as Joe Moore.
     Moore wore a customized flight suit that was tan, with dark
highlights.  In a shoulder holster he carried an energy pistol,
and slung on his back was an unusual rifle.  In a storage space
inside his armor, Steele had noticed, was a large duffel bag
which appeared to have some other weapons in it.
 
     Later on, in a small conference room, Sgt. Barry Irrout, Lt.
Martin Jackson, and Captain Steele met to debrief Moore, to
question him about this new world they suddenly found themselves
in.  Sherelynn was also present.  Col. Bowaz was absent from the
proceedings.
     "I understand your consternation," Joe Moore said.  "I was a
wee bit confused myself when I first arrived, and the adjustment
was pretty difficult, but I managed to survive."
     "You're a D-Bee yourself?" Steele asked.
     Moore winced.  "Please don't use that term; it has taken on
the qualities of an epithet from the Coalition's use of it.  But
yes, I came originally from another dimension.
     "I arrived about ten years ago.  I had just just graduated
from high school; it was 1995 a.d.  Don't ask me how it happened;
I have no idea myself.  All I know is that one morning I found
myself in this world, running for my life from an insane wizard.
I did eventually manage to escape, but that's a long story, and
perhaps would bear retelling at some other time.
     "For now, suffice it to say that in the end I found someone
who could help me, and I have managed to make my way quite nicely
in this world."
     "That's an interesting suit of power armor you have," Sgt.
Irrout, the Bio-Maintenance Engineer, said.
     "I should say so!" Lt. Jackson said.  He was holding a
clipboard computer in one hand and some kind of scientific
instrument in the other.  "I took a molecular density reading,
and the armor on that thing is amazingly strong!"
     "Oh?"  Steele took a look at the clipcomp.  "Amazing.
Nearly four times as resistant as Cyclone armor."
     "Apparently they made a good many advances in the field of
armor in this world," Steele guessed.
     "That's not all they made advances in," Joe said.
"Cybernetics, bionics, robotics--the Ancients, as they're called,
were amazingly advanced for their time...at least as compared to
my world."
     "Do you suppose that there's any chance of our making peace
with the Coalition?" Steele asked.
     Sherelynn, who had been sitting next to Steele listening,
recoiled as if struck.  "I can't believe what you're saying!" she
said in horrified tones.  "The Coalition is as brutal as the
ancient Nazi party!  They enforce a hunt-down-and-kill policy on
most D-Bees, and definitely distrust them all!  You should never
even consider such a thing!"
     Steele held up his hands.  "Relax, relax.  I was only asking
because Colonel Bowaz would want to know all our options.  I
would never support peace with them."  But privately, Steele was
wondering if Bowaz would feel the same way.
 
 
 
Chapter 7: Regis
 
 
     At the same time, thirty or forty miles away from the GMU's
present site, the Invid hive that the REF had originally been
attacking sat atop what had, in the other dimension, been a
ridge.  Now it was on a narrow peninsula, barely fifty feet above
the waterline.  It had made the transition also, unbeknownst to
the REF.
     Inside the hive was chaos.  The Invid, much more sensitive
to dimensional disturbances than humans, had been hit with the
equivalent of a psychic nuclear bomb.  More than half had
perished in the initial shock waves of the transition.  Half of
those that remained were in a comatose state, and would probably
stay in that condition for quite some time.  The Hive Brain was
also in a state of shock.
     Now those Invid that were left had finished gathering the
bodies of the dead together for disposal in a pyre. Their leader,
a humanoid Invid Prince named Bort, was in the brain chamber
concentrating desperately, or as close to desperately as was
possible for one who had never experienced emotion before.  He
had almost made contact once already; now, strengthened by the
passage of time, he was ready to try again.
     Bort typified the humanoid Invid type--tall, almost
handsome, with dark, shoulder-length hair.  He wore an expression
of arrogance, or would have had he not been so busy
concentrating.  All the Invid within the immediate area, even the
relatively primitive Scout drones, could feel the intensity of
Bort's mental signal.
     Then an answering signal shot through Bort's awareness like
a lightning bolt.  He stiffened, stood, and threw out his arms.
In his mind, a reverberating voice said, "CONTACT HAS BEEN MADE!"
 
     A column of ruddy light shot through the center of the
chamber.  A shadow appeared inside this pillar of fire.  It was
the psychic manifestation of the Regis, the mother of the Invid
race!  All the active Invid in the chamber were affected by her
mental presence, and the mere psychic energy given off was enough
to rouse some of the comatose Invid from their state and instill
a spark of consciousness into the stunned Hive Brain.  Though her
image was weak, all the Invid performed the alien equivalent of
genuflection; for the Regis was much more than just the mother of
the Invid, she was in a sense their creator, their god, the
literal essence of their species.  In short, the Regis WAS the
Invid.  She spoke, and her voice reverberated throughout the
entire hive.
     "Be at peace, my children, for I am with you," she reassured
them.  "I have seen your predicament, and know your location
amidst the myriad currents of space and time. Be assured, I have
not forgotten you.
     "However, I am not yet strong enough to bring you back, or
even to penetrate the fabric of time and space that separates us.
I must have much more Protoculture before I am able to do more
than maintain contact between us."
     From her own location a vast distance away in another
dimension, the Regis surveyed her childrens' predicament. She
could see only dimly the world in which the hive now found
itself; yet it seemed to her to have possibilities. Perhaps, if
it could be seeded with the Flower of Life, it might prove easier
to harvest than the Earth of this dimension that was still rife
with resistance to Invid domination.
     In moments, her decision was made.  Though she could not yet
physically penetrate the reaches of space and time that separated
her from her children, she could still supervise the hive's
functions.  She would direct the brain to increase the rate of
reactivation of the Invid in suspended animation to its utmost
maximum.  If this planet could be seeded, it might well prove to
be the salvation the Invid had hoped to find in Earth.  If not,
the loss was limited to just one Hive.
     But of course the Regis did not tell the stranded Invid all
of her plan.  She directed them, instead, to begin the
reanimation of the sleeping Invid.  "You must revive them now, to
commence the seeding of this planet with the Flower of Life! My
children, you MUST NOT FAIL in this.  This effort could prove to
be our salvation."
     Bort nodded.  "Your will shall be done, Regis."  And with
those words, a plan was set in motion that could prove to be the
downfall of this alternate earth.
 
 
 
Chapter 8: Transport
 
 
     After the meeting was over, Steele took Moore down to the
mecha bay for a first-hand look at the Cyclones.  Barry Irrout
explained how, due to the special power source, they were able to
evince such remarkable versatility.  Joe looked it over, examined
the Cyclone closely, and remarked, "This is new.  This is VERY
new," several times.
     The technicians scoping out the Glitter Boy armor (with
Joe's express consent and supervision) were saying much the same
thing, though in different (and usually highly technical) terms.
     Sgt. Irrout was particularly interested in the massive
cannon mounted to the GB's right shoulder.  Moore let him take a
couple of the weapon's access panels off, and he was amazed at
what he saw.  "This is another railgun type weapon, and it's the
most powerful one I've seen yet.  Amazing!  But the sonic boom it
creates must be immense!"
     Joe nodded.  "Yeah.  You'll notice, the armor itself is
specially insulated against the shock waves."
 
     Getting bored with all the techno-talk, Steele and Sherelynn
wandered up to the GMU's control room.  Bowaz was in the pilot's
seat, not actually doing much as the GMU was currently set on
auto-pilot.  Steele really doubted that Bowaz COULD do much in
the area of piloting the big vehicle anyway; he just sat there
for show.
     Steele and Sherelynn took seats next to each other at one of
the minor stations near the back of the bridge.  There were many
vacant stations, because of the deaths that had occured among the
bridge crew, as well as among everyone else, back on the earth of
their own dimension, against the Invid.  For a moment, Steele
wondered about that hive they'd been attacking.  Had they, too,
made the transition?  It might be worth checking out...then
Steele took one look at Sherelynn and forgot all his conjectures.
     She was so beautiful, all of the women Steele had ever been
with, or even seen, paled by comparison.  Her body was too
perfect for words, her smile brightened up the entire room, and
her eyes gazed alluringly back at him, hinting at something that
Steele found very, very inviting...
     Then their private moment was interrupted by a loudly
blaring klaxon alarm.  Bowaz, who had fallen asleep, now nearly
fell out of the chair.  "Shut off that infernal racket!" he
yelled to the radar operator, who was nearly frightened out of
her wits.
     "Yessir," she said, pressing the switch.  The alarm shut
off, but the entire bridge had been stirred into activity.
     Steele ran up to the front, with Sherelynn right behind him.
"What is it?" he demanded.
     "Large object, closing fast," she reported.  "Speed is Mach
One, range is 40 miles.  It's about as large as a small passenger
jet, sir."
     "Can you get a visual image?" Sherelynn asked.
     "I'll try," the young woman said.  She fiddled with the
controls for a few seconds.  "There."  The image came up on the
screen.  Sherelynn gasped.  The thing resembled a railway car
with a giant skull on the front and cannon turrets mounted to top
and bottom.  There was also some type of hover platform attached
there.
     "It's a Coalition transport!" Sherelynn said.  "You must
destroy it!"
     "Wait just one minute, young lady," Bowaz said.  "You say we
should shoot that thing?  But it hasn't shown any signs of
hostility yet, and..."
     "Believe me, it will, it will!" Sherelynn pleaded.  "You
must destroy it and not give it a chance to shoot first!"
     BEEEEEEEEEP!  The warning tone jerked their eyes back to the
radar screen just in time to see four smaller blips separate from
the large blip that represented the Coalition Transport.  "Radar
reports multiple missile launch," the female radar operator
reported calmly.  Steele swore and dashed over to the weapons
station.  With one hand, he keyed the small particle beam turret
mounted on top of the cockpit to lock in on the missiles and
knock them out of the air.  With the other, he pulled down on a
lever surrounded entirely in red.
     Atop the GMU, monstrous panels began to slide open, and
other components moved into place to stabilize.  The vibrations
could be felt throughout the entire Ground Mobile Unit as the
gigantic laser cannon built for taking out starships elevated and
locked into place.  "Eat LIGHT, you--" he muttered as his finger
stabbed the firing switch.
     The laser fired a mighty blast, and the Coalition transport
exploded.  "Enemy completely neutralized," the radar tech
reported.
 
     Sherelynn and Steele were in a small conference room, all
thoughts of romance forgotten.  They'd excused themselves from
the bridge, leaving Lt. Col. Bowaz to his command duties.  "We
destroyed the transport," the woman muttered.  "But the question
still remains, what was it doing there?"
     "It was after us, wasn't it?" Steele asked.  "Or else, it
was out on patrol."
     Sherelynn shook her head.  "No, that's not it.  They don't
patrol that heavily down here, and I hardly believe that killing
one SAMAS soldier would bring that."
     "Then what?" Steele asked.  "Another dimensional invasion?"
     "It might be..."  Sherelynn shook her head.  "No, it isn't.
I sense something about ten miles east of here."
     "You what?" Steele asked.
     "I can't explain how," Sherelynn said.  "My kind--I mean, I,
have psychic abilities, among which is clairvoyance.  It seldom
fails me."
     "Hmmm.  Do you think we should check it out?"
     "Anything that disturbs the Coalition so that it sends a
transport might be worth checking into," Sherelynn said.
     "Very well, I'll get a squad on it right away."  As he left
the room, he wondered momentarily why he was suddenly so quick to
implement her suggestions.
 
 
 
Chapter 9: Rescue
 
 
     Captain Steele ordered a squad of fifteen Cyclone scouts to
take a look around the area to the east, then walked out on a
small catwalk on the starboard side of the GMU, which was still
making its way north.  Sherelynn was already standing there, lost
in reflection.  "I sent some Cyclone troopers to check it out,"
Steele said, moving closer to her.
     She nodded, then checked the chronometer on her wrist.
"Captain Steele, I must go now.  I have to get back to the
forest."
     "But why?  I just sent out some troopers to check that area
for you.  Don't you want to hear what they have to say?"
     "I suspect I already know what it will be," Sherelynn
replied.  "Do not fear for me.  I am expert in the forest--it's
where I really belong.  I will return tomorrow."  With that, she
vaulted over the railing.
     "No, wait!" Steele yelled, but it was too late.  He watched
with astonishment as Sherelynn landed, 40 feet below, with the
grace of a cat.  She turned, waved, and dashed into the
jungle/forest about two hundred feet away.
     Steele sighed, bemused.  He decided to take a Recon Alpha
out over the forest, since there was really no reason for him to
remain here anyway and he was interested in what might be lurking
over there.  Though he didn't admit it, even to himself, he also
hoped he might be able to catch a covert glimpse of Sherelynn out
there.
     Over the forest, Steele engaged the scanning systems built
into his bird.  "Now let's just see what we get," he muttered.
     It wasn't long before the radar monitors began pinging.
"What's this?  I'm reading a concentration of metallic objects
registering just behind that ridge."  He radioed back to the GMU,
then increased his altitude some, to get above the cloud layer.
The clouds would provide visual cover for him, and he could use
the down-looking IR scanners to get a picture of what was going
on.  He switched to the V/STOL (Vertical/Short Take-Off and
Landing) thrusters in the Alpha's underside so he could get a
good image.
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