[COPY] Containment Protocol
Colonel Shaylton had to make a command decision. Fiction. 1500 words (8-minute read).
CONTAINMENT PROTOCOL
by Ray Tabler
“What’re those boys doin’ down there?” Senator Harshaw shoved a stick of gum into his mouth, chewing doggedly. “Damned smoking ban down here!”
Colonel Shaylton frowned behind politician’s back. The general had warned him. Harshaw looked and sounded like dumb hick. Many in Washington assumed that was all there was to Harshaw, to their regret.
Shaylton rose from his desk and crossed the office to step out onto the balcony overlooking the cavern floor. One hundred fifty feet below, a dozen armed troops milled about on the flat, stone area, checking equipment, and loading weapons. Support personnel swarmed the complex machinery climbing the cavern walls and suspended from the roof.
“That’s a recovery team. One of our agents is overdue, and I ordered a transit to recon his last known coordinates.”
“That happen a lot?” Harshaw raised an eyebrow.
“Not that often.”
Harshaw picked up a pair of binoculars from a shelf, and studied the team. Shaylton kept the glasses there on the balcony. It annoyed him that Harshaw used the binoculars without even asking.
Harshaw whistled. “They shore look like they’s loaded for bear!”
“Loaded for much more than bear, if they’re following procedure.”
“Why don’t you jest send a tank?”
“We will, if it’s needed. A whole battalion of tanks, if we have to. But not yet. This is just a recovery team.”
“Trying to keep a low profile?”
“That’s the idea.” Shaylton answered.
“Who’s the overdue agent?” Harshaw set the binoculars back on the shelf.
“Our best. A man named Muñoz.”
“I remember the name from the briefings. Something like three dozen missions. Must be very good.”
“He is good. In fact, he’s better than good, senator. Muñoz is lucky.” Shaylton grinned.
Harshaw chuckled. “Well—”
“Colonel, incoming emergency transit request!” The duty officer in the control room adjacent to Shaylton’s office announced in a nervous bark. “Muñoz’s code.”
Shaylton hustled along the connecting balcony and stuck his head into the control room. Harshaw followed.
“Open the gate. Containment protocol.” Shaylton ordered.
“What’s that mean?” Harshaw had time to ask before klaxons blared and the cavern erupted into frantic activity.
Personnel ran to control stations and weapons emplacements, buckling on body armor and helmets as they went. The recovery team sprinted for a side entrance to the transit floor, their op at least momentarily canceled. Additional technicians flooded into the control room, switching consoles from standby to ready mode.
A basso rumbling made the floor tremble, and high voltage relays closed with abrupt clunks throughout the portal generation array mounted on the far end of the cavern’s wall. The tang of ozone tickled Harshaw’s nose.
“This is very impressive, Colonel.” Harshaw admitted. He looked around for Shaylton. “Colonel?”
Shaylton stood at a consol in the control room, fishing a key from under his shirt on a chain round his neck. He inserted the key into a lock on the console and turned it. A small, rectangular panel swung open. Below the panel resided a large, red button, flanked by blinking lights.
“Is that what I think it is?” Harshaw asked.
“Yes, senator. About fifty kilotons worth. More than enough to vaporize everything in this complex, and then collapse the two miles of granite above our heads onto whatever’s left.”
“Holy shit!” Harshaw whispered.
“I agree.” Shaylton carefully rested his thumb onto one of the blinking lights next to the big, red button, where only a twitch would allow him to unleash their doom. “Open the portal.”
Technicians in the control room flipped switches and entered commands into terminal keyboards. They rushed through the portal initiation, calling out status of each subsystem as it came online in a frantic sing song chant. After a tense pause, a noncom listening through his headset gave a thumbs up, and an officer threw a toggle.
Harshaw heard a warbling sound from the portal array. He turned to watch as plasma danced from the periphery of the vertical framework mounted on the far wall of the cavern. The plasma spiderwebbed across the ring of superconducting elements. In the blink of an eye the plane of the interface formed, a portal to another universe.
“Interface stable.” A technician announced, finger moving to focus his attention on one complex display after another.
“Ready the probe.” Shaylton ordered.
“Looks like somebody’s comin’ though.” Harshaw focused the binoculars on the ramp leading down from where the circular gate came within a few feet of the cavern floor.
Weapons pivoted to bear on the gate. A pair of figures sprinted through the interface; the shimmering iridescence seemed to momentarily cling to them like a vertical wall of honey.
“That’s Muñoz!” Shaylton said. “I recognize how he moves.”
“Well, he’s brought a friend.” Harshaw drawled. “Pretty little thing. Fast too.”
Muñoz’s companion was human, blonde, and female. That was evident even from a distance.
“Muñoz isn’t stopping, or even slowing down. That means—”
Something huge poked its nose through the interface, followed by a leg the size of an ICBM. The ground shook when that leg landed a clawed, splay foot on the flat cavern floor. The beast swung a shovel-shaped head as long as a tractor trailer rig about. When it pinpointed the fleeing figures of Muñoz and the woman, a very toothy mouth dropped open, and a roar erupted from it which rumbled Shaylton’s gut more than it battered his ears.
“What the hell is that thing? A dinosaur?” Harshaw spat out his gum, and cringed behind the railing. As if that would protect him.
“Shut down the gate!” Shaylton ordered.
A technician jammed the kill switch with his thumb. The gate remained. “Oh shit!” He pressed the switch again and again.
“What’s wrong?” Shaylton demanded.
The beast brought another leg through the gate and more of its massive bulk slid into the cavern. Without waiting for orders, cannon and machine guns mounted on the floor and walls opened up, filling the cavern with flashes and more deafening noise. Shells impacted the leviathan, and seemed to have minimal, if any, effect.
“Power’s cut. The gate should’ve dissipated.” The technician glared at his controls, eyes narrowing. “Something’s powering it from the other side.”
“That can happen?” Harshaw’s face was pale.
“It shouldn’t be possible.” The technician backed away from his station, toward the door.
Shaylton reflected that it was time for him to make a judgement call. His thumb slid from next to the big, red button to resting on top of it. He tensed, in preparation for executing the containment protocol.
The beast heaved its way further through the gate, swaying side to side with a lumbering gait. One gigantic foot slipped on the smooth, granite floor, and a scaled flank crashed against the delicate machinery of the gate frame. That was enough.
The gosamer interface between universes vanished like an over-stretched soap bubble. The front half of the dinosaur-like creature could not balance for long on its front two legs. It crashed to the floor, screeching in pain and rage. Swimming pools of pale, green blood flooded out of where the collapsed gate had chopped it in half like an enormous guillotine.
“Oh muh Gawd!” Harshaw gripped the railing with white knuckles.
The creature was dying. It twitched and lashed out with its claws, splashing its own pooled blood about. Security personnel stayed well back, only dashing forward to usher Muñoz and the woman safely out of the way of the still-deadly claws.
Shaylton let out a shuddering sigh, and carefully lifted his thumb from the button. He muttered a prayer of thanks, and shut the safety cover on the fifty-kiloton trigger. Without another word, Shaylton dashed through the control room door.
“Where you goin’, colonel?” Harshaw hurried after him.
Harshaw caught up to Shaylton just as they reached the cavern floor. Someone had draped blankets over Muñoz and the woman, as a precaution against the pair going into shock. Muñoz wore his customary jungle cammo fatigues, boots, and booney hat. The woman was dressed in an outfit which looked like something Robin Hood might wear.
The dinosaur whimpered one last time, and evidently died. Although, no one appeared willing to get close enough to confirm the fact. More blood gushed out, shorting out some electronics unfortunate enough to be in the way. The woman shook a tanned, calloused fist at the dead beast, shouting what had to be a heartfelt curse in some indecipherable language.
“You shore know how ta make an entrance, son!” Harshaw grabbed Muñoz’s fist, pumping it up and down. “Ever think about runnin’ for office?”
“I’m eager to hear your briefing, Muñoz.” Shaylton crossed his arms.
Muñoz extricated his hand from the senator, and saluted. “Yes, sir! Have I got a story for you!”
END
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