Bridgers 4: The Mind of Many
by Stan C. Smith
Chapter 1
ST6
by Stan C. Smith
Chapter 1
ST6
September 4 - 6:03 AM
Infinity Fowler stared at herself in the mirror as an earthquake rattled the entire SafeTrek bridging facility. She reacted only by bending her knees slightly for stability. The tremors had become so frequent that she barely noticed them anymore. Besides, her mind was elsewhere—she was now in her last hour on this version of Earth. Within minutes, she’d be leaving all this destruction and horror behind. But she couldn't stop thinking about the fact that eight billion other people didn’t have that option. They would all die, along with every other living thing on the planet.
She ran her fingertips over three scars on her belly, each about an inch long. Knife wounds. From thirteen years ago. Eddy Chastain had stabbed her three times over a goddamn t-shirt. She was proud of most of her scars—and she had a lot of them—but these three were troubling. For the first time, she was bothered by the fact that Eddy Chastain had given her a wound that may have stolen her ability to have children. It didn’t comfort her much to know that, if the bastard was still alive, he was about to die along with everyone else.
Her hand moved up past her breasts to the large tattoo in the center of her chest. It was of a bird—a painted bunting—inked in blue, red, and green, although the colors had faded. Each time she bridged to an alternate world, a little more of the ink was stripped away. But today’s bridge would be her last.
She stared at the tattoo. Passerina. That was the bird’s genus name. And it was Infinity’s birth name, given to her by her parents. Infinity’s chest heaved, surprising her. What the hell? It was a sob. Why would she be crying now?
As a kid, she had hated her parents. She’d left home at fourteen and never returned. Not because her mom or dad had beat her. They hadn’t. Besides, she could have endured just about any physical abuse, even at that age. And they hadn’t verbally abused her either. Verbal abuse would have required that they care, at least a little. Instead, they had been completely, unconditionally indifferent. It was as if Infinity—Passerina—had become invisible once she was old enough to dress herself and get ready for school. Her parents would get up, go to work, and come home. Occasionally, the three of them would sit and eat together, but even then her mom and dad would hardly talk to each other, let alone to their daughter.
She pulled her gaze from her bird tattoo and looked into her own eyes. They were slightly teary. Where were her parents now? The world was coming to an end and she hadn’t even tried to locate them. She didn’t even know whether they were still alive. Even if she had found them, what could she have said? “Hey you guys, it’s me. Remember that last thing I said to you when I left, that I hoped you’d both die in pain? Well, you’re about to, along with everyone else on the planet, and it’s partly my fault.”
Her chest heaved again, and she turned away from the mirror. These thoughts were a waste of time. She had less than an hour left, and she didn’t want to miss seeing her last sunrise on this world.
She turned to the black shorts and racerback sports bra she’d selected, her favorite fightwear outfit. It was strange to think that this would be her last time wearing them. After pulling them on, she left her bunkroom.
The mostly-empty halls of the SafeTrek facility were deceptively quiet. Infinity knew that just outside the building were thousands of refugees hoping against all odds to be selected for an outgoing bridging colony. During the last few days, the scene outside had become increasingly chaotic and violent, as food and other necessary items dwindled. As many as two thousand National Guardsmen had been brought in to protect the facility and provide resources to the refugees, but at least a quarter of the guardsmen had defected since being brought in. Infinity didn’t blame them—most had families.
Her bare feet nearly silent on the tile floor, she made her way to the back of the facility and entered the stairwell leading to the roof. After climbing three flights, she emerged into the open air. The sun wasn’t up yet, but the eastern sky’s orange glow illuminated the roof enough for her to see that her hopes of quietly watching this last sunset with Desmond were in vain. Desmond Weaver, her bridging partner and now her lover, was there waiting for her, but he wasn’t alone. Beside him was Armando Doyle, Infinity’s boss and the CEO of SafeTrek. Also present were Lenny Stiles and Xavier Cahill, Desmond’s friends who, with Desmond’s help, had managed to secure their own spots with the outgoing colony—colony ST6. And at least thirty National Guardsmen were also on the roof, stationed around the perimeter, monitoring the ground below.
What the hell was going on?
“A slight change of plans,” Armando said as Infinity approached.
She frowned and glanced at Desmond.
“Don’t worry,” Desmond said. “We’re still going out with group one at seven.”
Infinity exhaled, relieved. “Then what’s the problem?”
Armando pointed to the northwest. “Not a problem, exactly, but we’re expecting one more refugee to arrive within the next few minutes. Hayley Millwright.”
She stared at him. “As in President Hayley Millwright?”
“How’s that for a zip-banging head rush?” Lenny said. “The president of the United States is going to be in our colony. My hopes for becoming colony leader have been crushed.”
Armando actually chuckled at this before saying, “President Millwright has requested to join group thirty-six, the last group to bridge out.”
Infinity tried to wrap her head around this. Apparently the federal government expected colony ST6 to be the last colony to bridge out, the last hope to save a small portion of the human species.
“She’ll be arriving in a chopper soon,” Desmond said. “So, um, do you still want to watch the sunrise together?”
Infinity looked around at all the guardsmen and sighed. “Damn right I do.” She stepped to Desmond’s side and took his hand. They both turned and gazed at the orange horizon. She squeezed his hand tightly, feeling its warmth. He was the one thing in this world she would not be willing to leave behind.
Desmond then spoke to her by sending his thoughts through his arm, across the place where their skin touched, up her arm, and into her mind. “I can’t believe we’re actually leaving this world forever. Are you ready for this?”
She glanced at him. On their most recent bridging excursion he had obtained the ability to project his thoughts telepathically to any person he was touching, and apparently this somewhat creepy ability hadn’t diminished, even after having bridged back to his own world. Infinity had refused the serum that would have given her this ability, which meant she couldn’t reply to his question without speaking aloud. Instead, she just squeezed his hand more tightly. She didn’t know how to answer the question anyway.
She and the others stared out at the orange and navy blue sky in silence. From the sea of thousands of camping refugees below, she could hear faint conversations, crying children, and the clinking of cookware and other equipment. Later, as more of the refugees awoke, arguments would begin, eventually escalating into fights, protesters would chant against SafeTrek’s seemingly callous colonist selection process, and desperate campers would attempt to infiltrate the ranks of the 718 refugees chosen for colony ST6. The lucky refugees of ST6 had been separated from the others using hastily-constructed fencing, and they were protected by hundreds of vigilant National Guardsmen, but the sheer number of campers streaming into the area was concerning. Infinity shuddered at the thought of what might happen if those people somehow learned that ST6 was almost certain to be the last outgoing colony.
Armando sighed as if he were content simply to stare at the sunrise, but then he said, “I don’t suppose any of you have heard the story of how bridging got its name?”
Infinity turned to him. She had been bridging for Armando for over four years, but he had never mentioned this.
Armando continued. “Most people think it was simply derived from the fact that the technology allows one to bridge to alternate universes. But not so. I was the first to muster the funds for an operational bridging center, so I had the privilege of coming up with a suitable name for the process.” He paused, as if thinking. “I’m a scholar of the great explorers throughout history, including a man by the name of Jim Bridger. Bridger considered himself a native Missourian, by the way, but he explored much of the western United States between 1820 and 1850. He saw sights that no man of European descent had ever seen before. A fascinating, larger-than-life character by any measure. So I decided pioneers using this new technology should be called bridgers, and the process should be called bridging.”
“Well, that was kind of random,” Lenny said. “Interesting, but random.”
Infinity gazed at Armando. She had gradually come to think of him as the father she had always wished she’d had, and she was grateful he’d decided to bridge out with colony ST6. But at this moment he looked more frazzled than she’d ever seen him. His eyes were sunken from lack of sleep. His characteristic bowtie was missing, and his white shirt was untucked. His disheveled, thinning hair made him look like a mad scientist. His back was stiff, as if he were in pain. For his sake, she hoped the upcoming bridging process would be relatively smooth. She was pretty sure he’d never actually bridged before.
“Uh, you guys. What is that?” It was Xavier. He was pointing north.
The tip of the sun was just now coming up over the eastern horizon, and the sky to the north was illuminated with a deep blue hue. A massive black cloud was growing there. No, not just growing—it was churning and heaving like a living thing. Tiny flashes of lightning twinkled constantly, like fireflies, revealing how immense the storm was.
As Infinity stared, it became obvious that the dark mass was rotating.
“God almighty,” Armando said.
Lenny whistled. “That’s one big-ass tornado.”
“It can’t be a tornado,” Armando said. “It’s at least ten miles wide. The largest tornado ever recorded was only two and a half.”
The cloud’s rotation was picking up speed, throwing up a smaller cloud of tiny specks. Infinity squinted. At least some of the specks were uprooted trees.
“Look at that,” Xavier said, pointing west. “More of them.”
Two more black clouds were forming, each at least as large as the first, and one was already visibly rotating. Armando had been wrong—these things weren’t ten miles wide. They were at least fifteen.
The building lurched, forcing the guardsmen to move back from the edge to keep from falling off the roof. The building had heaved upward at least six inches. This was immediately followed by several smaller tremors. A swell of cries arose from the camped refugees below.
Xavier was still watching the storms in the distance. “They’re either getting larger, or they’re coming this way!”
He was right. The two churning clouds to the west were definitely moving toward SafeTrek. And now they were throwing up just as much debris as the storm to the north.
“When is Millwright’s chopper supposed to arrive?” Infinity asked Armando.
“Should be here any time,” he replied, not taking his eyes off the approaching storms. “The chopper’s coming from Kansas City.”
Infinity turned to the northwest and scanned the sky, which now had taken on a strange contrast of orange and green hues. Surely the pilot would have turned back at the sight of these freak twisters. But the storms had popped up so quickly.
Suddenly she spotted the chopper, a miniature black toy to the north of one of the twisters coming from the west. The chopper was headed straight for SafeTrek, but the massive tornado was approaching the facility at a surprising pace, threatening to force the aircraft off course.
“This doesn’t look good,” Armando said, having spotted the helicopter. “What is that pilot thinking?”
Desmond said, “He’s thinking about saving the president’s life. Bridging out with ST6 is her only chance.”
Infinity pulled her eyes from the chopper to look at the tornado nearest to SafeTrek. Its size and violence made her stomach lurch. Swirling around its base were hundreds of uprooted trees and other objects that might have been houses and vehicles. No human-made structure in its path—not even the SafeTrek building—could survive its fury. The roof beneath her feet began to shake from another ground tremor. A low roar was building in volume, from the earthquake, the approaching storm, or both.
“Go faster!” Lenny cried, staring at the president’s chopper.
The helicopter was approaching fast but struggling to hold a straight course, pitching back and forth from the turbulence. The swirling black cloud appeared to be almost touching the chopper, but this could easily have been an optical illusion due to the tornado’s size.
Infinity glanced at the other two twisters. The one to the southwest appeared to be fizzling out, and the one to the north was moving east, staying at a safe distance. The third one was still getting closer, although it appeared to be shifting northward. It was a dark, menacing wall, thousands of feet tall.
Even if the twister continued angling north, it would only miss SafeTrek by a mile or so. Could the building survive?
The chopper started descending, thrown to the left and then the right. Fortunately, it was a large, heavy aircraft—otherwise it wouldn’t have had much of a chance.
Desmond shouted something, but his words were lost in the deafening roar. He pointed, and Infinity saw—the twister’s debris field was about to envelope the chopper. As she watched, a tree that was nearly as long as the helicopter narrowly missed smashing into it.
“Go, goddammit!” Infinity shouted. The chopper was seconds away from SafeTrek, perhaps a quarter of a mile.
As debris started hitting SafeTrek’s roof, the guardsmen headed for the door to the stairs, herding the civilians with them. Infinity paused just inside the door as the last of the guardsmen filed in past her. She shielded her eyes and turned back to look. The chopper was attempting to land, but it was being buffeted wildly. An airborne tree limb suddenly struck the tail rotor and the chopper started to spin. The pilot expertly dropped the chopper the last ten feet with what little control he still had, and the massive aircraft jostled to a rough stop near the roof’s edge.
Infinity stepped aside as the guardsmen poured back out of the stairwell and ran to the chopper, hunkering low to avoid flying debris. She glimpsed two heads of wildly-blowing blonde hair amidst the ten or so people emerging from the helicopter—President Millwright and her daughter. The guardsmen surrounded the new arrivals and hustled them back toward the stairs, shielding them with their own bodies.
Infinity held the door open, struggling to keep it still, as the mass of people pushed through to the stairs. Before shutting the door, she looked back once more, just in time to see the massive green and white helicopter tumble over the side of the roof and disappear.
She descended the stairs, following the others. She could hear them shouting to each other, but the debris pelting the stairwell housing and metal door behind her was too loud for her to make out what they were saying.
Infinity had just turned the corner to start down the second flight when she heard the door to the ground floor below being opened. This was followed by more shouting, and then gunfire from somewhere within the building. What the hell? Who was shooting? The only scenario she could imagine was that the refugees from outside had somehow broken through the front doors seeking shelter from the storm, in which case the guardsmen may have panicked and opened fire.
She emerged from the stairwell to a scene of chaos. The guardsmen, surrounding the president and her entourage, were moving steadily down the hall, firing at someone Infinity couldn’t see.
“What the hell are they shooting at?” Infinity shouted as she caught up with Desmond, Lenny, Xavier, and Armando immediately behind the mass of guardsmen.
Desmond shook his head, indicating he had no idea. But they didn’t have to wonder for long. As they continued following the armed men through the hallway, they soon found themselves stepping over the bodies of several civilians.
“Stop shooting!” Infinity screamed. “These people are not a threat!”
But her words were lost in the chaos. The president’s bodyguards and some of the guardsmen continued shooting people who couldn’t or wouldn’t get out of their way.
The hallway opened up to the expansive area that included the cafeteria, lounge, and entryways that led to other halls that led to offices, bunk rooms, the bridging chamber, and the quarantine lab. The entire space was filled with people, most of them cowering in fear from the advancing armed men.
“Hold your fire!” a woman’s voice shouted through all the other noise. “For God’s sake, stop shooting!”
The voice belonged to President Hayley Millwright. Infinity seldom watched the news, but she had heard that voice plenty of times when passing by the TV in the lounge.
The large room became relatively quiet, and for the first time, Infinity realized the floor was vibrating, either from another earthquake or from the massive storm outside. She scanned the crowd. Hundreds of refugees—perhaps thousands—were crammed into the space, along with National Guardsmen who had apparently been working outside when the tornado had formed.
“Clear the way!” a guardsmen shouted. “We’re coming through, even if we have to walk over your dead bodies.”
Infinity nudged Desmond. “I have to do something.” She pushed her way through the throng until she was beside President Millwright’s knot of protectors. “Listen!” she shouted to the crowd. “I know we’re all frightened, but—”
“Frightened, my ass!” a man in civilian clothes shouted. “Do you have any idea how many people are dying out there in that storm? And you folks are in here safe and sound, ready to bridge away from this hellhole.” The man put a hand on the shoulder of a frightened-looking kid about ten years old. “I brought my boy all the way here from Des Moines, and even if you won’t let me go, I’m begging you to take him. You’re one of them bridgers, aren’t you?”
Infinity shook her head. “I am, but I don’t get to decide who goes.”
A woman in the crowd pointed and said, “That’s President Millwright! If anyone can decide, she can. Mrs. Millwright, we don’t want to die any more than you do. You’ve got to help us!”
Infinity turned to Millwright. Instead of cowering behind the bodyguards and soldiers, the president stood up straight and stepped forward. Millwright’s husband and daughter were with her. Both were wide-eyed, but they stood as tall and dignified as the president. Millwright’s daughter—Infinity couldn’t remember her name—was like a twenty-something version of her mom, Both women looked disheveled, their blonde hair having been blasted by the wind so that they looked completely different than they normally did on television.
“I hear what you’re saying, and I understand,” Millwright announced. “I came to this place not because I insisted on it, but because my advisors convinced me to come. They believe my presence within the next outgoing colony could be valuable, both to the colonists themselves and to the occupants of the world we bridge to. And so I agreed. And I’m confident that each member of the colony was selected based on their ability to contribute significantly.” She paused expertly, and everyone became silent in order to hear what she was about to say.
“So I have a proposal,” she went on. “If you can bring some order to this mob, and if you can form an orderly line, I’ll have a team of people interview each and every one of you. You convince them that you would be valuable to the colony—more valuable than any one person already assigned to the colony—and they will put you in that person’s place. If not in this colony, then perhaps in the next. Can you think of any procedure more fair than that?”
The room was silent, other than the wind that was still raging outside.
“This is bullshit!” said the man from Des Moines. “Why should my son be left to die just because he’s not a doctor or a politician? Does that make him less important? Is he less important than your husband or daughter? And we know damn well there won’t be no more colonies going out. This building could collapse any minute!”
As if in response, the floor suddenly lurched, throwing people off their feet and prompting a chorus of screams. The lights blinked off for a moment and then flickered back on.
“To hell with you!” the man cried, staggering to his feet. He then rushed toward the president as if he intended to attack her.
Before the guardsmen could shoot the man, Infinity clotheslined him and took him to the ground. She locked her legs around his chest and clamped her right arm around his neck, immobilizing him.
“Unless you all want to be slaughtered,” she shouted at the refugees, “you need to back off and consider President Millwright’s offer!”
Abruptly, the floor heaved again, this time sending light fixtures and pieces of concrete from the ceiling crashing into the crowd. A wave of panicked screams came from the direction of the building’s front door. These were more than screams of fear—they had the horrific and unmistakable tenor of pain and death. Infinity realized what was happening. The thousands of refugees still outside were forcing their way in, probably trampling and crushing people in the process, pushing a wave of tremendous force toward the center of the building. The advancing pressure of bodies would reach this central room within seconds.
Infinity released the man and jumped to her feet. “Get Millwright to the bridging chamber, now!” She shouted, pointing down the hall to her right.
And then the heaving wave of humanity flowed into the open space of the large room. Screaming refugees and guardsmen were forced into the room like twigs carried by a flooded river.
“Clear the way!” one of the president’s bodyguards shouted. But it was no use—the space was too tightly packed.
Somewhere nearby an automatic weapon fired a two-second burst, which only intensified the panic and screams. More gunfire quickly drowned out the voices. Dozens of guardsmen were spraying the ceiling with bullets in a deafening attempt to clear a path to the bridging chamber. Several of the men began shooting into the crowd, adding splattering blood and falling bodies to the mayhem.
Refugees began climbing over each other to get out of the way, creating a tangle of limbs and body parts. Miraculously, an opening began to form. The guardsmen pushed through, pulling the Millwrights with them.
“Follow them!” Infinity yelled at Desmond.
Desmond, Armando, Lenny, and Xavier huddled against the pack of Millwright’s protectors, following them, with Infinity bringing up the rear.
Seconds later they passed through the airlock into the quarantine lab adjacent to the bridging chamber. Lab techs slammed the two airlock hatches shut behind them and secured the locks.
In the center of the lab stood fifteen of the first twenty refugees to be bridged out with colony ST6. Beside the refugees was Reece Eagleton, the regional FEMA Administrator who was in charge of overseeing SafeTrek’s attempts to save the human species.
“What the hell’s happening out there?” Eagleton demanded.
“A better question might be, what isn’t happening,” Armando replied. “The mother of all tornadoes nearly took out the building.”
“Unauthorized refugees breached the facility,” one of the guardsmen added. “We had to inflict some casualties to get through with President Millwright.”
Eagleton looked at Millwright. “Welcome, Madam President. Don’t fret over the extreme measures taken to get you here. Those people out there are going to perish soon anyway. The important thing is—”
“Shut up, Reece!” Millwright said. “All of you just shut up!” She rubbed her face with her hands. “I know exactly what’s happening out there, and I don’t need to hear you talking about those people as if they were acceptable losses. Have some respect!” She stared at her fingers, which were trembling, and then balled them into fists.
Infinity didn’t know much about Millwright, but her opinion of the woman had just risen a few notches.
Millwright’s husband and daughter remained silent but moved closer together as the president looked around with burning intensity. “I don’t know if you people have heard, but SafeTrek is the last of the seven bridging facilities still standing.” She nodded toward the airlock hatch. “I just told those people out there we would allow them to make a case for being included in the colony. Assuming your machinery is functional, would it be feasible to bridge some of them out?”
After several seconds of uncomfortable silence, Armando said, “I can’t say how feasible that is, but my gut tells me we need to start bridging now, before it’s too late. Madam President, I want to shift you and your family to group one.” He glanced at his watch. “And group one should have bridged four minutes ago.”
“We had discussed being included in the last group going out, group thirty-six,” Millwright said.
Armando shook his head. “I don’t think you should wait.”
One of the guardsmen chosen to be part of group one stepped forward. “It would be my honor to shift my spot to a later group to make room for you, Madam President.”
Another guardsman stepped forward, this one a rough-looking woman. “And I’ll shift my spot for your husband or daughter, ma’am.”
“And I’ll step aside as well,” another uniformed man said.
“We’ll shift these three to group two, Madam President,” Armando quickly said. “They’ll show up at the destination world one hour after you and the rest of group one arrive there.”
The building began shaking again, and faint screams arose from the mob of refugees beyond the airlock.
Armando stepped toward the bridging chamber and gestured toward the hatch. “Please, everyone, this way. Hurry!”
Millwright sighed, obviously reluctant. “Thank you,” she said to the three guardsmen who had volunteered their spots. The president, her husband, and her daughter were then ushered through the airlock. They were followed by two history professors, a man and woman, selected as arbitrators between the refugees and the residents of the destination world. But since colony ST6 was headed for a world that had diverged from Earth’s timeline only twenty years ago, the historians’ job was expected to be easy. Following the professors were four doctors. Three of these, all women, were SafeTrek med techs, including Infinity’s favorite, Poppy Safran. The fourth was a man from Saint Louis who happened to have no family to prevent him from volunteering.
Infinity, Desmond, Lenny, and Xavier entered the chamber next. Infinity and Desmond were the official bridgers for the colony. Lenny and Xavier had bridged only once before, but Armando and Eagleton, with a bit of convincing, had agreed that Lenny and Xavier’s experience, as well as their biological expertise, would be valuable.
Armando and his assistant, Celia Pickett, entered next. Infinity had recently convinced Armando to join colony ST6, and he had insisted on Celia joining the group as well. Between the two of them, Armando and Celia possessed more knowledge about bridging technology than anyone on Earth. That knowledge would almost certainly be useful to the people of the destination world, if for no other reason than to prevent them from destroying their own version of Earth the way this version had been destroyed. But Infinity’s reasons for wanting Armando to join the colony were of a more personal nature. He was a dear friend.
Finally, five guardsmen entered, now down from eight since three had volunteered to bridge with the next group.
This was the first group of twenty. If the bridging device continued to function, thirty-five more groups would follow, one group per hour. These were the limits imposed by bridging technology, although no one knew why. The technology had actually come from an alien civilization in the form of encoded instructions sent through space via a radio signal. Only 20 people per group. Any more than that and the device would simply not function. It took about sixty minutes to prepare the device to bridge another group, and the device would keep a connection to a specific destination world open for only thirty-six hours. After that, the connection would be severed forever. Again, no one knew why. Or how.
Infinity and Desmond stood facing the other eighteen refugees, and Infinity instructed them to spread out with about a foot of space between them.
“You can leave your clothes on, or you can take them off,” Desmond said. “Either way, you’ll arrive at the destination world naked. And without your hair.”
Everyone remained still except for Armando and Celia, who both removed their shirts. Their motions were rather stiff, and Infinity immediately saw why. Both of them had fresh tattoos covering their entire backs. The skin bordering the ink lines was red and covered with glistening ointment. It was obvious what the tattoos were. Each of their backs was covered with the entire set of nine hundred symbols constituting the “key” to bridging technology. A grid, thirty by thirty. These symbols had been given to Desmond just yesterday by a bizarre species of transparent, fluid-dwelling creatures on the destination world of colony ST5.
“I’ll explain later,” Armando said when he saw Infinity’s frown.
The voice of one of the techs sounded over the intercom system. “I’m resetting the countdown, Mr. Doyle. Is two minutes enough time, or do you need more?”
“We’ll be ready in two,” Armando replied. “Initiate.”
Without hesitating, Desmond continued with his instructions. “The device scans the destination area just before bridging, so don’t worry—it won’t bridge you into a solid object or anything like that. But you’ll arrive a short distance above the surface as a safety measure. You’ll drop to the ground, usually only a few inches. Bend your knees slightly and try to stay on your feet.”
The building began shaking again, heaving up and down enough that most of the group went to their knees to avoid falling.
“Wait! Please wait a moment.” The voice had come from beyond the airlock hatches, which the techs had been in the process of closing. Seconds later, Reece Eagleton entered the chamber, his eyes wide. “Madam President, I’d like to be a part of this group. I beg of you to allow it. Honestly, I don’t know if we’ll have time for a second group.” Tears were forming in Eagleton’s eyes.
Millwright turned to Armando. “Can the device accommodate twenty-one?”
Armando shook his head. “It isn’t wise to try, especially considering the circumstances.”
One of the guardsmen, speaking solemnly, said, “I can wait an hour to join group two.”
Infinity recognized the guy as Gideon Stead, who had escorted her and Desmond on a recent trip to Kentucky so that Desmond could see his mother one last time. The trip had gone terribly wrong, and Gideon had proven himself to be skilled and resilient.
Armando shook his head again. “We’ve already moved three of you. We had good reason for including eight guardsmen in the first group. I won’t allow less than five.” He hesitated for a moment and then nodded his head slightly as if making a decision. “I’ll wait for a later group.” He headed for the hatch.
“No!” Infinity cried. “You said you would—”
“I will—later!” Armando said, cutting her off. “This makes sense, and you know it. If we have trouble with the device, I need to be here to troubleshoot. It’s my duty to be here.”
Infinity couldn’t believe this was happening. She stepped toward the hatch to stop him, but then the floor shifted sideways and she went down. Shouts filled the chamber as the room continued jerking from side to side. Infinity managed to get to her knees in time to see Armando closing the airlock hatch from the other side. She heard him shout, “Activate the bridge! Do it now!”
Eagleton scrambled forward, trying to get to his feet but unable to. He rolled to his side and ended up inches from Infinity.
She could barely hear the tech’s voice over the groaning and heaving of the building. “Bridging in five, four, three…”
Infinity grabbed Eagleton by his shirt. “You goddamn son of a—”
The violence, the noise, and the bridging chamber all vanished.
Infinity Fowler stared at herself in the mirror as an earthquake rattled the entire SafeTrek bridging facility. She reacted only by bending her knees slightly for stability. The tremors had become so frequent that she barely noticed them anymore. Besides, her mind was elsewhere—she was now in her last hour on this version of Earth. Within minutes, she’d be leaving all this destruction and horror behind. But she couldn't stop thinking about the fact that eight billion other people didn’t have that option. They would all die, along with every other living thing on the planet.
She ran her fingertips over three scars on her belly, each about an inch long. Knife wounds. From thirteen years ago. Eddy Chastain had stabbed her three times over a goddamn t-shirt. She was proud of most of her scars—and she had a lot of them—but these three were troubling. For the first time, she was bothered by the fact that Eddy Chastain had given her a wound that may have stolen her ability to have children. It didn’t comfort her much to know that, if the bastard was still alive, he was about to die along with everyone else.
Her hand moved up past her breasts to the large tattoo in the center of her chest. It was of a bird—a painted bunting—inked in blue, red, and green, although the colors had faded. Each time she bridged to an alternate world, a little more of the ink was stripped away. But today’s bridge would be her last.
She stared at the tattoo. Passerina. That was the bird’s genus name. And it was Infinity’s birth name, given to her by her parents. Infinity’s chest heaved, surprising her. What the hell? It was a sob. Why would she be crying now?
As a kid, she had hated her parents. She’d left home at fourteen and never returned. Not because her mom or dad had beat her. They hadn’t. Besides, she could have endured just about any physical abuse, even at that age. And they hadn’t verbally abused her either. Verbal abuse would have required that they care, at least a little. Instead, they had been completely, unconditionally indifferent. It was as if Infinity—Passerina—had become invisible once she was old enough to dress herself and get ready for school. Her parents would get up, go to work, and come home. Occasionally, the three of them would sit and eat together, but even then her mom and dad would hardly talk to each other, let alone to their daughter.
She pulled her gaze from her bird tattoo and looked into her own eyes. They were slightly teary. Where were her parents now? The world was coming to an end and she hadn’t even tried to locate them. She didn’t even know whether they were still alive. Even if she had found them, what could she have said? “Hey you guys, it’s me. Remember that last thing I said to you when I left, that I hoped you’d both die in pain? Well, you’re about to, along with everyone else on the planet, and it’s partly my fault.”
Her chest heaved again, and she turned away from the mirror. These thoughts were a waste of time. She had less than an hour left, and she didn’t want to miss seeing her last sunrise on this world.
She turned to the black shorts and racerback sports bra she’d selected, her favorite fightwear outfit. It was strange to think that this would be her last time wearing them. After pulling them on, she left her bunkroom.
The mostly-empty halls of the SafeTrek facility were deceptively quiet. Infinity knew that just outside the building were thousands of refugees hoping against all odds to be selected for an outgoing bridging colony. During the last few days, the scene outside had become increasingly chaotic and violent, as food and other necessary items dwindled. As many as two thousand National Guardsmen had been brought in to protect the facility and provide resources to the refugees, but at least a quarter of the guardsmen had defected since being brought in. Infinity didn’t blame them—most had families.
Her bare feet nearly silent on the tile floor, she made her way to the back of the facility and entered the stairwell leading to the roof. After climbing three flights, she emerged into the open air. The sun wasn’t up yet, but the eastern sky’s orange glow illuminated the roof enough for her to see that her hopes of quietly watching this last sunset with Desmond were in vain. Desmond Weaver, her bridging partner and now her lover, was there waiting for her, but he wasn’t alone. Beside him was Armando Doyle, Infinity’s boss and the CEO of SafeTrek. Also present were Lenny Stiles and Xavier Cahill, Desmond’s friends who, with Desmond’s help, had managed to secure their own spots with the outgoing colony—colony ST6. And at least thirty National Guardsmen were also on the roof, stationed around the perimeter, monitoring the ground below.
What the hell was going on?
“A slight change of plans,” Armando said as Infinity approached.
She frowned and glanced at Desmond.
“Don’t worry,” Desmond said. “We’re still going out with group one at seven.”
Infinity exhaled, relieved. “Then what’s the problem?”
Armando pointed to the northwest. “Not a problem, exactly, but we’re expecting one more refugee to arrive within the next few minutes. Hayley Millwright.”
She stared at him. “As in President Hayley Millwright?”
“How’s that for a zip-banging head rush?” Lenny said. “The president of the United States is going to be in our colony. My hopes for becoming colony leader have been crushed.”
Armando actually chuckled at this before saying, “President Millwright has requested to join group thirty-six, the last group to bridge out.”
Infinity tried to wrap her head around this. Apparently the federal government expected colony ST6 to be the last colony to bridge out, the last hope to save a small portion of the human species.
“She’ll be arriving in a chopper soon,” Desmond said. “So, um, do you still want to watch the sunrise together?”
Infinity looked around at all the guardsmen and sighed. “Damn right I do.” She stepped to Desmond’s side and took his hand. They both turned and gazed at the orange horizon. She squeezed his hand tightly, feeling its warmth. He was the one thing in this world she would not be willing to leave behind.
Desmond then spoke to her by sending his thoughts through his arm, across the place where their skin touched, up her arm, and into her mind. “I can’t believe we’re actually leaving this world forever. Are you ready for this?”
She glanced at him. On their most recent bridging excursion he had obtained the ability to project his thoughts telepathically to any person he was touching, and apparently this somewhat creepy ability hadn’t diminished, even after having bridged back to his own world. Infinity had refused the serum that would have given her this ability, which meant she couldn’t reply to his question without speaking aloud. Instead, she just squeezed his hand more tightly. She didn’t know how to answer the question anyway.
She and the others stared out at the orange and navy blue sky in silence. From the sea of thousands of camping refugees below, she could hear faint conversations, crying children, and the clinking of cookware and other equipment. Later, as more of the refugees awoke, arguments would begin, eventually escalating into fights, protesters would chant against SafeTrek’s seemingly callous colonist selection process, and desperate campers would attempt to infiltrate the ranks of the 718 refugees chosen for colony ST6. The lucky refugees of ST6 had been separated from the others using hastily-constructed fencing, and they were protected by hundreds of vigilant National Guardsmen, but the sheer number of campers streaming into the area was concerning. Infinity shuddered at the thought of what might happen if those people somehow learned that ST6 was almost certain to be the last outgoing colony.
Armando sighed as if he were content simply to stare at the sunrise, but then he said, “I don’t suppose any of you have heard the story of how bridging got its name?”
Infinity turned to him. She had been bridging for Armando for over four years, but he had never mentioned this.
Armando continued. “Most people think it was simply derived from the fact that the technology allows one to bridge to alternate universes. But not so. I was the first to muster the funds for an operational bridging center, so I had the privilege of coming up with a suitable name for the process.” He paused, as if thinking. “I’m a scholar of the great explorers throughout history, including a man by the name of Jim Bridger. Bridger considered himself a native Missourian, by the way, but he explored much of the western United States between 1820 and 1850. He saw sights that no man of European descent had ever seen before. A fascinating, larger-than-life character by any measure. So I decided pioneers using this new technology should be called bridgers, and the process should be called bridging.”
“Well, that was kind of random,” Lenny said. “Interesting, but random.”
Infinity gazed at Armando. She had gradually come to think of him as the father she had always wished she’d had, and she was grateful he’d decided to bridge out with colony ST6. But at this moment he looked more frazzled than she’d ever seen him. His eyes were sunken from lack of sleep. His characteristic bowtie was missing, and his white shirt was untucked. His disheveled, thinning hair made him look like a mad scientist. His back was stiff, as if he were in pain. For his sake, she hoped the upcoming bridging process would be relatively smooth. She was pretty sure he’d never actually bridged before.
“Uh, you guys. What is that?” It was Xavier. He was pointing north.
The tip of the sun was just now coming up over the eastern horizon, and the sky to the north was illuminated with a deep blue hue. A massive black cloud was growing there. No, not just growing—it was churning and heaving like a living thing. Tiny flashes of lightning twinkled constantly, like fireflies, revealing how immense the storm was.
As Infinity stared, it became obvious that the dark mass was rotating.
“God almighty,” Armando said.
Lenny whistled. “That’s one big-ass tornado.”
“It can’t be a tornado,” Armando said. “It’s at least ten miles wide. The largest tornado ever recorded was only two and a half.”
The cloud’s rotation was picking up speed, throwing up a smaller cloud of tiny specks. Infinity squinted. At least some of the specks were uprooted trees.
“Look at that,” Xavier said, pointing west. “More of them.”
Two more black clouds were forming, each at least as large as the first, and one was already visibly rotating. Armando had been wrong—these things weren’t ten miles wide. They were at least fifteen.
The building lurched, forcing the guardsmen to move back from the edge to keep from falling off the roof. The building had heaved upward at least six inches. This was immediately followed by several smaller tremors. A swell of cries arose from the camped refugees below.
Xavier was still watching the storms in the distance. “They’re either getting larger, or they’re coming this way!”
He was right. The two churning clouds to the west were definitely moving toward SafeTrek. And now they were throwing up just as much debris as the storm to the north.
“When is Millwright’s chopper supposed to arrive?” Infinity asked Armando.
“Should be here any time,” he replied, not taking his eyes off the approaching storms. “The chopper’s coming from Kansas City.”
Infinity turned to the northwest and scanned the sky, which now had taken on a strange contrast of orange and green hues. Surely the pilot would have turned back at the sight of these freak twisters. But the storms had popped up so quickly.
Suddenly she spotted the chopper, a miniature black toy to the north of one of the twisters coming from the west. The chopper was headed straight for SafeTrek, but the massive tornado was approaching the facility at a surprising pace, threatening to force the aircraft off course.
“This doesn’t look good,” Armando said, having spotted the helicopter. “What is that pilot thinking?”
Desmond said, “He’s thinking about saving the president’s life. Bridging out with ST6 is her only chance.”
Infinity pulled her eyes from the chopper to look at the tornado nearest to SafeTrek. Its size and violence made her stomach lurch. Swirling around its base were hundreds of uprooted trees and other objects that might have been houses and vehicles. No human-made structure in its path—not even the SafeTrek building—could survive its fury. The roof beneath her feet began to shake from another ground tremor. A low roar was building in volume, from the earthquake, the approaching storm, or both.
“Go faster!” Lenny cried, staring at the president’s chopper.
The helicopter was approaching fast but struggling to hold a straight course, pitching back and forth from the turbulence. The swirling black cloud appeared to be almost touching the chopper, but this could easily have been an optical illusion due to the tornado’s size.
Infinity glanced at the other two twisters. The one to the southwest appeared to be fizzling out, and the one to the north was moving east, staying at a safe distance. The third one was still getting closer, although it appeared to be shifting northward. It was a dark, menacing wall, thousands of feet tall.
Even if the twister continued angling north, it would only miss SafeTrek by a mile or so. Could the building survive?
The chopper started descending, thrown to the left and then the right. Fortunately, it was a large, heavy aircraft—otherwise it wouldn’t have had much of a chance.
Desmond shouted something, but his words were lost in the deafening roar. He pointed, and Infinity saw—the twister’s debris field was about to envelope the chopper. As she watched, a tree that was nearly as long as the helicopter narrowly missed smashing into it.
“Go, goddammit!” Infinity shouted. The chopper was seconds away from SafeTrek, perhaps a quarter of a mile.
As debris started hitting SafeTrek’s roof, the guardsmen headed for the door to the stairs, herding the civilians with them. Infinity paused just inside the door as the last of the guardsmen filed in past her. She shielded her eyes and turned back to look. The chopper was attempting to land, but it was being buffeted wildly. An airborne tree limb suddenly struck the tail rotor and the chopper started to spin. The pilot expertly dropped the chopper the last ten feet with what little control he still had, and the massive aircraft jostled to a rough stop near the roof’s edge.
Infinity stepped aside as the guardsmen poured back out of the stairwell and ran to the chopper, hunkering low to avoid flying debris. She glimpsed two heads of wildly-blowing blonde hair amidst the ten or so people emerging from the helicopter—President Millwright and her daughter. The guardsmen surrounded the new arrivals and hustled them back toward the stairs, shielding them with their own bodies.
Infinity held the door open, struggling to keep it still, as the mass of people pushed through to the stairs. Before shutting the door, she looked back once more, just in time to see the massive green and white helicopter tumble over the side of the roof and disappear.
She descended the stairs, following the others. She could hear them shouting to each other, but the debris pelting the stairwell housing and metal door behind her was too loud for her to make out what they were saying.
Infinity had just turned the corner to start down the second flight when she heard the door to the ground floor below being opened. This was followed by more shouting, and then gunfire from somewhere within the building. What the hell? Who was shooting? The only scenario she could imagine was that the refugees from outside had somehow broken through the front doors seeking shelter from the storm, in which case the guardsmen may have panicked and opened fire.
She emerged from the stairwell to a scene of chaos. The guardsmen, surrounding the president and her entourage, were moving steadily down the hall, firing at someone Infinity couldn’t see.
“What the hell are they shooting at?” Infinity shouted as she caught up with Desmond, Lenny, Xavier, and Armando immediately behind the mass of guardsmen.
Desmond shook his head, indicating he had no idea. But they didn’t have to wonder for long. As they continued following the armed men through the hallway, they soon found themselves stepping over the bodies of several civilians.
“Stop shooting!” Infinity screamed. “These people are not a threat!”
But her words were lost in the chaos. The president’s bodyguards and some of the guardsmen continued shooting people who couldn’t or wouldn’t get out of their way.
The hallway opened up to the expansive area that included the cafeteria, lounge, and entryways that led to other halls that led to offices, bunk rooms, the bridging chamber, and the quarantine lab. The entire space was filled with people, most of them cowering in fear from the advancing armed men.
“Hold your fire!” a woman’s voice shouted through all the other noise. “For God’s sake, stop shooting!”
The voice belonged to President Hayley Millwright. Infinity seldom watched the news, but she had heard that voice plenty of times when passing by the TV in the lounge.
The large room became relatively quiet, and for the first time, Infinity realized the floor was vibrating, either from another earthquake or from the massive storm outside. She scanned the crowd. Hundreds of refugees—perhaps thousands—were crammed into the space, along with National Guardsmen who had apparently been working outside when the tornado had formed.
“Clear the way!” a guardsmen shouted. “We’re coming through, even if we have to walk over your dead bodies.”
Infinity nudged Desmond. “I have to do something.” She pushed her way through the throng until she was beside President Millwright’s knot of protectors. “Listen!” she shouted to the crowd. “I know we’re all frightened, but—”
“Frightened, my ass!” a man in civilian clothes shouted. “Do you have any idea how many people are dying out there in that storm? And you folks are in here safe and sound, ready to bridge away from this hellhole.” The man put a hand on the shoulder of a frightened-looking kid about ten years old. “I brought my boy all the way here from Des Moines, and even if you won’t let me go, I’m begging you to take him. You’re one of them bridgers, aren’t you?”
Infinity shook her head. “I am, but I don’t get to decide who goes.”
A woman in the crowd pointed and said, “That’s President Millwright! If anyone can decide, she can. Mrs. Millwright, we don’t want to die any more than you do. You’ve got to help us!”
Infinity turned to Millwright. Instead of cowering behind the bodyguards and soldiers, the president stood up straight and stepped forward. Millwright’s husband and daughter were with her. Both were wide-eyed, but they stood as tall and dignified as the president. Millwright’s daughter—Infinity couldn’t remember her name—was like a twenty-something version of her mom, Both women looked disheveled, their blonde hair having been blasted by the wind so that they looked completely different than they normally did on television.
“I hear what you’re saying, and I understand,” Millwright announced. “I came to this place not because I insisted on it, but because my advisors convinced me to come. They believe my presence within the next outgoing colony could be valuable, both to the colonists themselves and to the occupants of the world we bridge to. And so I agreed. And I’m confident that each member of the colony was selected based on their ability to contribute significantly.” She paused expertly, and everyone became silent in order to hear what she was about to say.
“So I have a proposal,” she went on. “If you can bring some order to this mob, and if you can form an orderly line, I’ll have a team of people interview each and every one of you. You convince them that you would be valuable to the colony—more valuable than any one person already assigned to the colony—and they will put you in that person’s place. If not in this colony, then perhaps in the next. Can you think of any procedure more fair than that?”
The room was silent, other than the wind that was still raging outside.
“This is bullshit!” said the man from Des Moines. “Why should my son be left to die just because he’s not a doctor or a politician? Does that make him less important? Is he less important than your husband or daughter? And we know damn well there won’t be no more colonies going out. This building could collapse any minute!”
As if in response, the floor suddenly lurched, throwing people off their feet and prompting a chorus of screams. The lights blinked off for a moment and then flickered back on.
“To hell with you!” the man cried, staggering to his feet. He then rushed toward the president as if he intended to attack her.
Before the guardsmen could shoot the man, Infinity clotheslined him and took him to the ground. She locked her legs around his chest and clamped her right arm around his neck, immobilizing him.
“Unless you all want to be slaughtered,” she shouted at the refugees, “you need to back off and consider President Millwright’s offer!”
Abruptly, the floor heaved again, this time sending light fixtures and pieces of concrete from the ceiling crashing into the crowd. A wave of panicked screams came from the direction of the building’s front door. These were more than screams of fear—they had the horrific and unmistakable tenor of pain and death. Infinity realized what was happening. The thousands of refugees still outside were forcing their way in, probably trampling and crushing people in the process, pushing a wave of tremendous force toward the center of the building. The advancing pressure of bodies would reach this central room within seconds.
Infinity released the man and jumped to her feet. “Get Millwright to the bridging chamber, now!” She shouted, pointing down the hall to her right.
And then the heaving wave of humanity flowed into the open space of the large room. Screaming refugees and guardsmen were forced into the room like twigs carried by a flooded river.
“Clear the way!” one of the president’s bodyguards shouted. But it was no use—the space was too tightly packed.
Somewhere nearby an automatic weapon fired a two-second burst, which only intensified the panic and screams. More gunfire quickly drowned out the voices. Dozens of guardsmen were spraying the ceiling with bullets in a deafening attempt to clear a path to the bridging chamber. Several of the men began shooting into the crowd, adding splattering blood and falling bodies to the mayhem.
Refugees began climbing over each other to get out of the way, creating a tangle of limbs and body parts. Miraculously, an opening began to form. The guardsmen pushed through, pulling the Millwrights with them.
“Follow them!” Infinity yelled at Desmond.
Desmond, Armando, Lenny, and Xavier huddled against the pack of Millwright’s protectors, following them, with Infinity bringing up the rear.
Seconds later they passed through the airlock into the quarantine lab adjacent to the bridging chamber. Lab techs slammed the two airlock hatches shut behind them and secured the locks.
In the center of the lab stood fifteen of the first twenty refugees to be bridged out with colony ST6. Beside the refugees was Reece Eagleton, the regional FEMA Administrator who was in charge of overseeing SafeTrek’s attempts to save the human species.
“What the hell’s happening out there?” Eagleton demanded.
“A better question might be, what isn’t happening,” Armando replied. “The mother of all tornadoes nearly took out the building.”
“Unauthorized refugees breached the facility,” one of the guardsmen added. “We had to inflict some casualties to get through with President Millwright.”
Eagleton looked at Millwright. “Welcome, Madam President. Don’t fret over the extreme measures taken to get you here. Those people out there are going to perish soon anyway. The important thing is—”
“Shut up, Reece!” Millwright said. “All of you just shut up!” She rubbed her face with her hands. “I know exactly what’s happening out there, and I don’t need to hear you talking about those people as if they were acceptable losses. Have some respect!” She stared at her fingers, which were trembling, and then balled them into fists.
Infinity didn’t know much about Millwright, but her opinion of the woman had just risen a few notches.
Millwright’s husband and daughter remained silent but moved closer together as the president looked around with burning intensity. “I don’t know if you people have heard, but SafeTrek is the last of the seven bridging facilities still standing.” She nodded toward the airlock hatch. “I just told those people out there we would allow them to make a case for being included in the colony. Assuming your machinery is functional, would it be feasible to bridge some of them out?”
After several seconds of uncomfortable silence, Armando said, “I can’t say how feasible that is, but my gut tells me we need to start bridging now, before it’s too late. Madam President, I want to shift you and your family to group one.” He glanced at his watch. “And group one should have bridged four minutes ago.”
“We had discussed being included in the last group going out, group thirty-six,” Millwright said.
Armando shook his head. “I don’t think you should wait.”
One of the guardsmen chosen to be part of group one stepped forward. “It would be my honor to shift my spot to a later group to make room for you, Madam President.”
Another guardsman stepped forward, this one a rough-looking woman. “And I’ll shift my spot for your husband or daughter, ma’am.”
“And I’ll step aside as well,” another uniformed man said.
“We’ll shift these three to group two, Madam President,” Armando quickly said. “They’ll show up at the destination world one hour after you and the rest of group one arrive there.”
The building began shaking again, and faint screams arose from the mob of refugees beyond the airlock.
Armando stepped toward the bridging chamber and gestured toward the hatch. “Please, everyone, this way. Hurry!”
Millwright sighed, obviously reluctant. “Thank you,” she said to the three guardsmen who had volunteered their spots. The president, her husband, and her daughter were then ushered through the airlock. They were followed by two history professors, a man and woman, selected as arbitrators between the refugees and the residents of the destination world. But since colony ST6 was headed for a world that had diverged from Earth’s timeline only twenty years ago, the historians’ job was expected to be easy. Following the professors were four doctors. Three of these, all women, were SafeTrek med techs, including Infinity’s favorite, Poppy Safran. The fourth was a man from Saint Louis who happened to have no family to prevent him from volunteering.
Infinity, Desmond, Lenny, and Xavier entered the chamber next. Infinity and Desmond were the official bridgers for the colony. Lenny and Xavier had bridged only once before, but Armando and Eagleton, with a bit of convincing, had agreed that Lenny and Xavier’s experience, as well as their biological expertise, would be valuable.
Armando and his assistant, Celia Pickett, entered next. Infinity had recently convinced Armando to join colony ST6, and he had insisted on Celia joining the group as well. Between the two of them, Armando and Celia possessed more knowledge about bridging technology than anyone on Earth. That knowledge would almost certainly be useful to the people of the destination world, if for no other reason than to prevent them from destroying their own version of Earth the way this version had been destroyed. But Infinity’s reasons for wanting Armando to join the colony were of a more personal nature. He was a dear friend.
Finally, five guardsmen entered, now down from eight since three had volunteered to bridge with the next group.
This was the first group of twenty. If the bridging device continued to function, thirty-five more groups would follow, one group per hour. These were the limits imposed by bridging technology, although no one knew why. The technology had actually come from an alien civilization in the form of encoded instructions sent through space via a radio signal. Only 20 people per group. Any more than that and the device would simply not function. It took about sixty minutes to prepare the device to bridge another group, and the device would keep a connection to a specific destination world open for only thirty-six hours. After that, the connection would be severed forever. Again, no one knew why. Or how.
Infinity and Desmond stood facing the other eighteen refugees, and Infinity instructed them to spread out with about a foot of space between them.
“You can leave your clothes on, or you can take them off,” Desmond said. “Either way, you’ll arrive at the destination world naked. And without your hair.”
Everyone remained still except for Armando and Celia, who both removed their shirts. Their motions were rather stiff, and Infinity immediately saw why. Both of them had fresh tattoos covering their entire backs. The skin bordering the ink lines was red and covered with glistening ointment. It was obvious what the tattoos were. Each of their backs was covered with the entire set of nine hundred symbols constituting the “key” to bridging technology. A grid, thirty by thirty. These symbols had been given to Desmond just yesterday by a bizarre species of transparent, fluid-dwelling creatures on the destination world of colony ST5.
“I’ll explain later,” Armando said when he saw Infinity’s frown.
The voice of one of the techs sounded over the intercom system. “I’m resetting the countdown, Mr. Doyle. Is two minutes enough time, or do you need more?”
“We’ll be ready in two,” Armando replied. “Initiate.”
Without hesitating, Desmond continued with his instructions. “The device scans the destination area just before bridging, so don’t worry—it won’t bridge you into a solid object or anything like that. But you’ll arrive a short distance above the surface as a safety measure. You’ll drop to the ground, usually only a few inches. Bend your knees slightly and try to stay on your feet.”
The building began shaking again, heaving up and down enough that most of the group went to their knees to avoid falling.
“Wait! Please wait a moment.” The voice had come from beyond the airlock hatches, which the techs had been in the process of closing. Seconds later, Reece Eagleton entered the chamber, his eyes wide. “Madam President, I’d like to be a part of this group. I beg of you to allow it. Honestly, I don’t know if we’ll have time for a second group.” Tears were forming in Eagleton’s eyes.
Millwright turned to Armando. “Can the device accommodate twenty-one?”
Armando shook his head. “It isn’t wise to try, especially considering the circumstances.”
One of the guardsmen, speaking solemnly, said, “I can wait an hour to join group two.”
Infinity recognized the guy as Gideon Stead, who had escorted her and Desmond on a recent trip to Kentucky so that Desmond could see his mother one last time. The trip had gone terribly wrong, and Gideon had proven himself to be skilled and resilient.
Armando shook his head again. “We’ve already moved three of you. We had good reason for including eight guardsmen in the first group. I won’t allow less than five.” He hesitated for a moment and then nodded his head slightly as if making a decision. “I’ll wait for a later group.” He headed for the hatch.
“No!” Infinity cried. “You said you would—”
“I will—later!” Armando said, cutting her off. “This makes sense, and you know it. If we have trouble with the device, I need to be here to troubleshoot. It’s my duty to be here.”
Infinity couldn’t believe this was happening. She stepped toward the hatch to stop him, but then the floor shifted sideways and she went down. Shouts filled the chamber as the room continued jerking from side to side. Infinity managed to get to her knees in time to see Armando closing the airlock hatch from the other side. She heard him shout, “Activate the bridge! Do it now!”
Eagleton scrambled forward, trying to get to his feet but unable to. He rolled to his side and ended up inches from Infinity.
She could barely hear the tech’s voice over the groaning and heaving of the building. “Bridging in five, four, three…”
Infinity grabbed Eagleton by his shirt. “You goddamn son of a—”
The violence, the noise, and the bridging chamber all vanished.
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If you enjoyed reading Chapter 1 of Bridgers 4: The Mind of Many, you are going to LOVE the rest of the book! It is now available for pre-order, and it's official release date is December 5. You can get it from Amazon here.