Kara Discovered: Episode 1, The Gate is Opened

Jeffries readies himself to command a mission he doesn’t want. His men would be half blind, with no technology on an infinite world older than he thought anything could be. But the legion calls.

Jefferies stared at his wall screen in disgust as the alarm filled the room. He looked back down at the protest he had been filing. It would have been his seventh protest.

The station’s speaker came to life as the AI announced, “The Gate to the Fourth Universe is now open and stable. Reading are taken and green. Mission is a go. Exploration party, prepare to depart.”

The wall screen changed. The gate appeared and through the gate, a small plant sat in desert sand. Sand, rock or water was common every time they opened a portal to this universe. But that was the first plant, or any other life detected.

The side bar said that the air was breathable instead of the CO2, N2 mix, like every other time they opened a gate onto this madhouse of a universe.

But damn, it was hot. 10° C hotter than the other times that they open a gate there. Yet 41° C was two degrees short of an automatic abort.

He hit delete on his own computer screen. No point in filing yet another protest, no matter how insane this mission was. Now it was go; or resign his commission.

But for Lieutenant Peter Jeffries, honor ruled out dumping this mess on another officer.

This insane Rush made no sense. This universe wasn’t going anywhere. They could spend decades if they needed studying it before sending people and damn well should.

He grimaced and stood. Opening his locker, he took out the greyish monochrome coveralls that replaced his Legion of Armstrong uniform for the mission. It was like wearing clothing made of sandpaper.

With exaggerated care he sat down to put on shoes made of the same stuff. Yet he still managed to abrade himself slightly on one inner thigh.

Legionnaires are tough, but it was insane to tell them to carry out a mission in these, even if they were supposed to be soft in the other universe. No one had put that to the test yet, so he had his doubts.

Putting on those damn shoes made of the same stuff, only thicker, so they didn’t abrade his feet, was a time-consuming chore. Between them and the clothing, only three of his eighty men made it on the first drill, still fit enough to carry out the mission all those months ago. Only daily drills dressing after that, had made it possible for him to have his men able to turn out fit for duty, though not one managed not to get some scratches putting the bastard things on.

His men hated him and his drills, but they could now get dress on time.

He reached for the belt holding the javelins and his canteen, the very reason that he, a lieutenant less than a century old, and with only two planet drops as an officer, none as the senior officer, was given command of this mission.

Modern weapons would not work there. The physics of that Universe prohibited them. They needed an officer that could use primitive weapons.

That meant him, Lieutenant Peter Jefferies, ex-history professor, kicked out of his teaching post at the University of Heinlein for the very unsocial habit of learning how to kill with primitive weapons.

Lastly, he grabbed the thick eyeglasses. They were on a thick cord made of the same thing as the uniform. The cord went around his neck. Those glasses were supposed to allow him to see once he crossed to the other universe. The glasses were useless white translucent junk here but were supposed to work there where the rules of refraction were quite different. But again, he had his doubts.

Stepping from his room with great care, he stepped onto the hover disk that all men from his command now use when wearing these ridiculous coveralls since that first disastrous drill. It rose, and he shifted his weight and started down the hall toward the gate room, dread filling him.

<chapter 2>