P.O.R.T. 101
• Book One •
Dark Horizon
By Jeremy Parrish
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Copyright © 2009 by Jeremy A. Parrish
*****
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the aforementioned author of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Chapter 01, The Beach
The scent of the sea... salty, moist, and teaming with life, filled his nostrils. The sound of waves crashing into the shore, a few feet from his face, urged him to burrow deeper into his arms. The lapping water assailed his senses again and again, shaking him from sleep. Tucking himself into a fetal shield against the onslaught of sound, he struggled to find a few more moments of sleepless relaxation. It would all fade when he really woke up, he knew. Stretching, he opened his eyes, rubbing them lazily, inadvertently freckling his face with grains of sand. For a moment, he sat staring, shaking his head and batting at the sand fleas on his arms and legs. Crawling to his feet and he staggered as a wave crashed inches away from where he had lain. He gazed out at the sea, lining the shore. The sand stretched out to the horizon, running parallel to a tree lined coast. Splashed across the sand, small crystalline deposits freckled the shore, bathing the surrounding sand in a pale blue light.
The remnants of a shattered moon formed a broken path across the sky to the newly risen sun, hanging just above distant hills. A dream, he thought, but he hadn't remembered his dreams as being so vivid and so empty. Rubbing he eyes, he shook his head, trying to dislodge what must be an illusion or hallucination. As continued to stare in wonder, high pitched roar echoed across the beach behind him. He felt an overwhelming urge spurring him into action. The urge took root and panic filled his mind with one thought. Run! So he did. He ran. He walked. He rested. Then, he ran some more. Distant hills drew closer, as sand turned to sandstone, and finally sandstone to rock. What appeared to be distant hills were merely mounds of petrified sand. At the peak of each mound, transparent pillars towered over the shore. Evenly spaced and virtually identical, pillars rose out of sand and stone, as far as the eye could see. A faint, but distinctive hum filled the air. As he neared the first of many pillars lining the beach, his skin tingled and the air began to pulse with light, as his consciousness began to slip. All the feeling in his limbs melted away, as his legs buckled and warm sand pressed into his skin. Just before he blacked out, he felt a hand settle on his shoulder and he heard someone speak.
Does he have it, it asked?
No..., not exactly. I think he is it... said another voice.
Suddenly, all that he could hear was the beating of his own heart, which became increasingly difficult to hear as he lost consciousness.
Chapter 02, The Experiment
Frustrated... he slammed his hands onto the desk next to the display. It wavered out of sight as Herb said, 'display out.' His face contorted with confusion. He said to himself... what happened? Display up! He shouted.
The date and time wavered into view. 48 hours earlier, Dr. Herbert Li had begun to make progress in his experiments. Years of hypothesis, theory, and experimentation were finally paying off. In spite of the miscalculations and close calls, Herb knew that he was close, too close. So he pressed on, refining, recalculating and knowing that he drew closer to what he was destined to achieve.
Begin recording... Experiment T0097, he commanded.
Previous attempts to Port Beta object were marginally successful. Upon achieving 75% output, Beta Object (an apple) was displaced from platform A for less than .5 milliseconds, re-appearing in perfect condition, just outside of the designated coordinates (platform B). Initial and current tests show that cellular integrity has remained constant. Despite the remnant chronyte levels, Beta object remains intact.
The Chronyte core continues to steadily output, with minor fluctuations in intensity. Based on recent results, a 10% power increase and the addition of the chronyte regulator should compensate for the re-occurring targeting errors. The power fluctuations occur within .25 milliseconds of initial transport. In theory, an increase in intensity and power should correct the targeting issues which have plagued this phase of the project. If successful, upon confirmation, we should be ready for the initial phases of human testing. Initial phases will utilize plasma samples from the national archives (human blood).
Initiating T0097...
The display flashed, "Initiating Port 0097 - Time/Date."
Display Up!
Begin Recording... Experiments T0098, 99, and 100 have been successful. All Beta Objects were Ported and maintain cellular stability. Initial tests using the regulator resulted in overshooting of platform B. Backing power down by 20% seemed to solve the problem. No further targeting issues have occurred since.
Commencing, Gamma Phase. “Gamma One”, the first human plasma sample is in position and ready to Port. Thermals have been applied, normalizing Gamma One to body temp. If successful, this could change everything.
Initiating T0101...
The computer display flashed, "Initiating Port 0101 - Time/Date."
Staring at the readings on the display, Herb's eyes widened until one word exploded from his mouth.
NO!
In a flash, Gamma One was gone. Herb scrabbled to his terminal, checking the readings. Nothing appeared to be off. He searched the lab, praying that the test tube or a warm crimson puddle would miraculously appear. Nothing… Herb sat at his terminal and called up the tracking system.
Port CTS on! Julius, Alert the retrieval team.
Previously, when items had vanished, Herb had discovered that when and where they reappeared, they emitted a distinct chronyte signature. Satellites allowed for citywide scans, but they could only supply a location within 20 yards of the target. Eventually a retrieval team was outfitted with hand scanners, which allowed for tracking within inches.
Chapter 03, Alex
Every morning, the smell of fresh baked bread wafted through the air, closely followed by the aromatic beckoning of bear claws and crescents. Alex never watched the clock. Mr. Li's Bakery was the only clock that he needed. First thing in the morning, Mr. Li made bagels, bear claws, and crescents. Mr. Li had been getting up to bake at 4am since the dawn of the deep fryer. By 6am, you could smell baked goods for blocks.
Lunch was easy, chocolate chip. If Alex inhaled long enough, he could almost taste the chips melting in his mouth. By 4pm, the air grew heavy with the sound of kids, cars, and latch keys. With kids emerging from academic imprisonment, power grids surged with the commencement of daily play this, and game box that. By then, Mr. Li's had closed and the aroma of deep fryer oil melded with exhausts and early evening commuters. Alex lived across the street from Mr. Li's. Even though he didn't eat there as often as he'd like, he never got enough of the smells. He always called baked goods, proof that god has a sweet tooth.
When Alex wasn't out on an audition or taking a class, he'd sit and watch Mr. Li's. It was amazing how many people, how many kinds of people loved Li's. Some of the
m were real characters, like Alex's 2nd floor neighbor, Ray. Ray was a retired dog walker. He spent 20 years walking dogs on the Upper East Side. He got into it when he was a kid and never had a reason to stop. Now he spends most of his time yelling "leashes aren't love" in Golden Gate Park.
In the darkness, Alex could smell the faint aroma of bread baking. His head ached and he could hardly move, but he kept focusing on the smell. Slowly, Alex clawed his way back to consciousness, looking forward to grabbing a bear claw at Mr. Li's. Instead, he found himself strapped down to some kind of chair or table.
The restraints were paper thin, but he couldn't break them. They appeared to be made of the same stuff that he was draped under him. Images of dome headed aliens and anal probing started to flood his mind. To make matters worst, he noticed a few sore spots on his forearm.
He shouted... Hello!?
I think that there's been some kind of mistake!!! Hello?
Chapter 04, Displacement
Herb had just finished reading the report on their only patient. He wasn't sure how, but some of what he'd read was all too familiar. He needed the tests run again. What he was seeing couldn't be right and he prayed that it wasn't. He had to confirm the results.
Are you sure? He bellowed. Did you take the sample yourself? Do it again! I don't care how much it cost. Just do it!
Simmons stood in the doorway shaking his head. He'd never seen the Doc like this. If it weren't so distressing, he'd have found it hilarious. He'd been there when the capture was made and when the initial samples had been taking.
There's no mistake Doc...
Our scans led us right to him. We had to narc him. When we landed, he took off. We searched the area, but the signal followed him. When we finally caught up with him, he was the only clear signal we got. There was no sign of the test tube. Herb looked up from the test results. Well, he didn't swallow it! Did you get any readings that seemed out of the ordinary?
Simmons' head wrinkled as he started to explain, as he grew increasingly concerned by the Doc's persistent enquiry. Nothing other than the usual background radiation and the standard temporal resonance, said Simmons. Although, unlike other Ports, the temporal resonance seemed to be lower in level, but scattered in every direction.
What do you mean, scattered? Herb Asked. Herb dropped the report, turning to fully face Simmons.
Usually, we get strong readings from a specific direct direction. Since you added the regulator, most of it appears to emanate from the general area, around the lab. But this time, it was as if we were getting readings from the beach, the ocean, and beyond. It’s as if the tube exploded in the atmosphere and rained all over the western hemisphere.
Beads of sweat had started to build up on Herb's forehead. Starting to turn to the display, Herb returned his gaze to the report and spoke calmly.
Alright, get back down to the beach and make sure that the search team reports all analogous reads. I don't care how minute the trace. I want to know about it.
Simmons nodded and darted from the room. Herb was determined to prove that what he suspected was not true, as searched through Simmons' data.
Julius, state progress on sample A1, A2, and A3, he said.
Julius made a sound that could have easily been interpreted as a sigh of frustration as he began to report his findings.
According to my analysis, aside from minute traces of chronyte emissions, Sample A2, type 'A' negative, human plasma... Sample A3, type 'A' negative, human plasma... are identical to Sample A1, type 'A' negative, human plasma.
All DNA markers are identical.
As Julius recited his findings, Herb sank down in his chair, shaking his head in disbelief.
That's not possible... He barked. Julius, initiate level 8 search... Identify donor, for all samples.
This time, prefixed with a sound that closely resembled a throat being cleared, Julius responded.
Herb sank back into his chair, wide eyed and eager.
Search aborted... Identity known... Identification of Sample A1 was completed 4 days ago. Identity of Samples A1, A2, and A3 are as follows.
Port 101 - Test Sample Gamma; Source of Test Sample Gamma is as follows.
Facility- National Genetic Archives
Collection location- San Francisco
Date - August 11, 2006
Donor - Alex Marsters
Age - 31
Herb licked at the salt left by the beads of sweat which had dried on his lips. Sitting upright, he spoke in a calm whisper.
Check it again...
The computer said nothing for a moment. Then in a booming voice, Julius spoke.
Search confirmed... Genetic markers and projected paths of development are consistent between all samples.
Would you like me to generate a 3DM?
Herb stood and paced back and forth in front of the display.
Yes, he said. Generate the model, maintaining average parameters, relative to the early 21st century, specifically, 2006.
Parameters confirmed... Julius bellowed, as the lab lights dimmed, except for a glowing spherical image that hung in the air above Herb's desk.
Julius continued speaking a billowy echo. "3DM ready... Projecting..."
Herb had used 3DMs in his research before, but it never ceased to amaze him. Within the sphere of light, the image of dividing cells grew into an embryo. The embryo grew into an infant, then from an infant into a boy, and finally into manhood. As it did, Herb knew that there was no doubt.
Julius, Herb called, compare the reconstruction to the patient in Observation 872. State match percentage, allowing for a 10 to 20 pound variance in muscle mass and fatty tissue.
Not even a moment had passed when Julius responded.
89.25% match...
10.75% no match
Herb hadn't expected this.
Why the 10.75%? He asked.
Again, with a sigh, Julius answered.
Although unlikely, the patient could be an illegal synthetic.
However, the chemical content of Samples is consistent with the contaminants found in plasma of the 21st century.
Herb had considered this and he was pleasantly surprised to see that Julius had done the same. The possibility was remote, but Herb needed to be sure.
Could those elements be synthesized and introduced to mimic Sample A1? Herb asked.
No. Julius said, dryly.
Why not? Herb grimaced.
After a long sigh, Julius explained.
Required elements no longer exist. Synthesis of such elements would leave distinct markers, of which, I have found none.
Herb was not ready to concede defeat, so he pressed on.
Julius, could chronyte radiation be skewing your analysis?
Julius said nothing. Herb asked again.
This time, Julius spoke with what Herb knew to be irritation.
Unlikely, chronyte radiation remains relatively inert unless subjected to high energy or stored in quantities greater than one thousand grams.
Even then, my sensors function well within designated parameters.
Herb grinned.
Ok... Julius, hypothesis...
Let's say that our patient is Alex Marsters. Under what circumstances could he be sitting in Observation 872?
Julius, clearing his non-existent throat, responded.
Barring exceptional circumstances, none. According our records, Alex Marsters was reported missing, more than 87 years ago. Even with extensive cellular regen therapy and the regular use of stasis fields, Alex Marsters would be no less than 123 years 4 months 3 weeks 2 days, and 23.751 minutes of age.
The patient in Observation 872 scans at less than 32 years, 4 months, 1 week, and 2.1 hours of age.
Herb winced, a subtle smile spread across his face, sinking back as he challenged his assistant's definitive assertion.
Julius, the patient in O.872 is giving off traces of Chronyte radiation. Under what circumstances is
that possible?
Julius responded without hesitation.
According to my readings, the patient in O.872 was Ported 29.72 hours ago.
The smile which had spread across Herb's face withered, giving way to a look of desperation.
Julius, confirm analysis and compare to power fluctuations in Port 101. Who is the patient in O 872?
Once again, without the slightest hesitation, the response came, no less certain than any other.
Analysis confirmed. Alex Marsters is emitting chronyte resonance consistent with estimated resonant levels for Port 101. Scans are also detecting diminishing transphasic fluctuations in his cellular structure, consistent with Port re-integration. Even if he had ingested the test sample, his present level of resonance would be substantially lower than it is now.
Julius, postulate a theory on Temporal Displacement, relative to the use of Chronytes.
The lights in the lab cut through the dimness, washing out the vibrant recreation that hovered above the desk. As the image shrank and faded, Julius presented his theory.
Since their discovery in the late 21st century, scientists have theorized that if one could channel chronytes, thereby focusing them at one point in space, one could punch a hole in space time, either allowing for the traversing of great distances in an instant or of time itself.