As with most of the scientists the Nightstalkers ended up putting in body bags or more likely listing as MIA, she really didn’t.
A crackling noise caused her to finally look up. Her mouth dropped open and she couldn’t even moan her excitement anymore. The entire interior of the Arch was flickering, a slightly golden sheen illuminating the space framed by what Eagle could have told her was a weighted catenary form of stainless steel. Eagle could have even gone into the math involved, something to do with x and y and cosines and fractions and whatnot, but that wasn’t what Melissa Eden was interested in, even though she was very good at math, having earned a PhD in physics from Stanford, which required more than a few math courses along the way.
Just as quickly as she’d seen it, the gold coalesced inward from the metal arch to a single tiny, golden, glowing arch, about ten feet wide and high, in the exact center on the ground.
It wasn’t a sign for McDonald’s.
Eden felt the hairs on her arms tingle and there was another crackling sound. She had a sour taste in her mouth. She squinted, because through that small arch, there was something, like there was another side, which was the whole point of this experiment, except even in her most excited dream, she’d never really imagined it would work. Because no one had ever published on it, saying they had succeeded.
That should have been a hint.
She didn’t realize she’d gotten to her feet, the laptop forgotten on the grass. Through the golden arch, she saw rows of…something. Even though she couldn’t make out what the somethings were, she had the distinct sense the somethings were facing this arch and if it stayed open much longer, they were going to come through.
In the way ancient man used to stare out the mouth of the cave into the darkness, knowing danger lurked out there, Eden felt a primeval fear of those somethings.
Here there be monsters used to be written on ancient maps to fill in the blank spaces. In this case, it should be written in capital letters. With one or two exclamation points.
As quickly as she thought that, though, instead of a bunch of somethings, a single someone stepped through and the golden arch snapped out of existence.
Roland was focused on the Arch and the area around it. There was a golden glow underneath the stainless steel structure, which was never a good sign.
As he passed through eight thousand feet, he checked in, because it was Protocol that he check in at eight thousand feet.
“Eagle, thermals?” Roland asked as he adjusted his descent.
“I’ve got one hot spot near the Arch. On the landward side. Probably our genius scientist.”
“That’s the side on the other side from the river,” Mac added, in this case probably a smart add, because Roland had been a bit puzzled by the landward part, although Mac’s explanation didn’t help much with its redundancy.
Roland was using a clockwise spiral to descend, checking all directions.
“Beyond that, looks like a couple of homeless on the riverfront,” Eagle continued. “And then there’s the city. You’ve got I-70 cutting the park off from it.”
Doc’s voice cut in. “The Rift is closed. I’m getting nothing. That was different. Like it snapped shut.”
“Roland, see any Fireflies?” Moms asked.
“Too high up,” Roland replied.
Roland started to dump air, increasing his downward speed.
The someone was a man. He was walking straight toward Eden. He wore a long tan bush coat, inappropriate for the warm night, and a fedora, pulled low over his eyes.
“What—” Eden began, but then she saw his face under the fedora and the next words were clenched in her throat. His skin looked like he’d been through a shredder. He paused about five feet from her and cocked his head, revealing more of his disfigurement.
“Does my face disturb you?” he asked. As he spoke, his skin rippled and smoothed out. “Better?”
Eden still couldn’t find words.
“I guess not.” He looked down at the laptop and tsked. “One should not interfere with things beyond one’s comprehension. My associates on the other side are getting rather irritated with the whole thing and believe it’s getting near to time that this be brought to a conclusion.”
He leaned over to pick up the laptop, and that move finally stirred Eden to action. “That’s mine!” She stepped toward him and grabbed his arm, her other hand going for the computer.
Her second mistake of the evening.
And her last.
With his free hand, the man grabbed the top of her hand, seizing it in a grip that froze her muscles, and he lifted her off the ground. She dangled from his hand as he peered into her eyes. They remained like that for several seconds; then the man dropped her.
Eden lay stunned for a second; then her spirit came back and she jumped to her feet. “That’s—”
She never finished as the man drew a silenced pistol from inside his coat, pressed it against the side of her head, and pulled the trigger. The round went into her skull with a soft chugging sound, then fragmented, shredding her brain. She was dead before she hit the ground, but the man fired again, this round into her forehead.
“Nada Yada,” the man said with a grin, the scars returning to his face. “Always double-tap and make sure they’re dead.” He stared down at her. “I saved you considerable pain.”
He holstered the pistol, snatched up the laptop, and tucked it under his arm. He began walking toward the nearest road.
As he was about to pass through four thousand feet, Roland took a moment to get oriented. It was easy, given the size of the Arch. The M240 machine gun was rigged tight against his body on one side, a flamer on the other, the fuel for it underneath the parachute case on his back. Protocol said he was to reverse directions after passing through four thousand feet, so Roland regained the toggles and reversed. Roland was a big believer in Protocol.
“Wind?” Roland asked.
“Negligible,” Eagle reported. “You’re still clear. We’re holding at three thousand to the west.” There was a pause. “We’ve got a second person with the first.”
“Where did that one come from?” Roland asked, peering down.
“I think out of the Arch,” Doc said. “No indication of Fireflies, though.”
Roland couldn’t make out the people on the grass, but he did see a church across the road from the Arch. It stirred memories of a wedding, a buddy in the army, and holding a sword forming an arc, but not much more of the wedding itself since he’d been drunk and there’d been a bunch of singing and girls crying and crap. The reception, on the other hand, he could remember clearly. He’d gotten into a fight with the best man, and the bride had been pissed, but his army buddy, the groom, had laughed, because what was an army wedding without some blood being spilled?
It had been a great reception, but as Roland went through three thousand feet, he had a feeling this reception wasn’t going to be as good.
Keith was drunk, it was 3:00 a.m., and he could have sworn the Arch had been shimmering just a minute ago. Maybe some special promo, like when they’d shone pink lights on it in support of breast cancer research. He was stopped at a red light, left turn signal on, nervously drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, constantly glancing in his rearview mirror, dreading that a cop car would pull up behind him.
He couldn’t afford another DUI. He’d lose not only his job, but also his license. And how could he get another job if—
Just as the light turned green, the engine stalled out, which was almost impossible to tell since he was driving a Prius and the battery had been powering the car, but a warning light flashed on the dash and nothing happened when he pressed the accelerator. Keith cursed and punched the start button to no avail.