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Lisbeth sat on her cot staring at the cards laid out in front of her. Her shifts ran for forty-eight hours on and forty-eight off. It was an easy job as far as that went. She spent most of her time reading, playing games on her phone or, like tonight, playing cards with one of her crewmates. Sometimes they’d all agree on a movie and watch it in the break room.
So far, the hardest part of the job was sleeping fully dressed in your boots. Or if you could get your boots on fast enough, next to your cot. Once the alarm sounded the crew had to get out to the chopper in less than a minute. But after three years, Lisbeth had gotten used to the drills at different times of her shift. Wide awake or fast asleep, the crew learned to work as one to get to the helicopter as fast as possible. They even set up contests with the other crews, the best time won. And her crew had won the most lately. They were a well-rounded team, and it gave her pride to be a part of it.
“Come on, girl. It’s your turn.” Paul sighed loudly and rolled his eyes when she didn’t make a move. “How hard could it be? It’s rummy, not brain surgery.”
“Quit being a jerk. Some people like to think about their next move and not just dive in and have regrets later.” Rita’s voice carried across the bunk room.
“Geeze, Rita, it’s a card game, not a decision to buy a car or get married. It’s easy, draw a card and either lay down a hand or discard.” Paul glared at Rita and not Lisbeth probably because they’d known each other for years, since high school. From what Lisbeth knew, they’d never gotten along, but for some reason were a great team on the chopper crew. Working, they were always able to finish each other’s thoughts, anticipate what the other needed. But they couldn’t say two words to each other outside of the chopper without fighting about it. They’d even argued about the color of the sky. Baby blue or light blue.
Lisbeth drew a card and put all her cards down and discarded, going out. Rita broke out in peals of laughter while Paul narrowed his eyes and groaned.
“I’m not impulsive, Paul. I never do anything without thinking it through. I always make a plan and follow it.” Standing from her bed, she stretched then straightened her one-piece flight suit. “It’s only seven o’clock, so I think I’ll go see what’s on television.”
“Oh!” Rita stood up. “I heard O’Rourke’s Revenge is on that first run movie channel tonight.” Lisbeth made a face.
“That sounds like a gory movie. I hate blood and guts horror movies.”
Paul laughed at her words outright. “That’s because you’re a pacifist, Mohr. Rita is all for going for the jugular.” Rita threw up her middle finger.
Lisbeth grinned at her crewmates. “Well, give me science fiction any day.”
“No, it’s not a horror movie. It’s a comedy movie where the girl gets dumped on her wedding day and—” Her voice was cut off when alarms sounded, and orange lights flashed. Everyone immediately jumped up and ran for their lockers.
Helmets and other gear were grabbed out of the metal containers and booted feet ran for the helipad. “Code Orange initiated.” The prerecorded female voice blasted over the speakers. “This is not a drill.” Lisbeth’s heart sped up. They’d trained for this most every shift, but the fear still rode her hard. Her mouth was so dry, she had to fight the urge to gag from it.
The crew jogged down the hall and was met by Captain Dave Amsted. He nodded to them as they stepped into the elevator. He was the consummate professional. His calm demeanor always kept everyone on an even keel. “We’re the closest team. According to the report, we should be within visual range within minutes of liftoff. Ms. Mohr, you should be receiving specific coordinates any second. Mr. Rose and Ms. Matthews, did you complete the preflight checklist before chow?” God, this was real. Really real. Shit.
Paul and Rita answered, “Yes, sir,” in unison. The lift stopped seconds later, and the crew met the last member, Lieutenant Chase Nelson who came out of the small building on the helipad. He was pulling on his helmet and jogging toward the helicopter. He always bunked next to the chopper to have it on standby. They all boarded silently and moved automatically to their seats.
“She’s ready, captain.” Amsted nodded and immediately tightened the straps in the pilot seat. The helicopter was a new design, created by KenSpec Labs. It could be airborne almost immediately instead the normal forty-minute warmup time. Within moments everyone was ready to fly. Her phone pinged, letting her know the satellite had sent the exact coordinates to her phone. Lisbeth put her phone in the docking area to download the information to the rest of the crew.
“Downloading coordinates to the chopper, captain. It’s very close.” She didn’t hear if he answered her over her heart beating in her ears.
The years of training and drills kept Lisbeth focused, despite her fear. Her fingers flew over the keyboard that occupied the area next to her seat, readying the computer to take measurements. She pushed a button on her helmet, releasing a clear plastic square that came down over her right eye. Immediately satellite images were revealed on the plastic. Her fingers stopped moving briefly, taking in the amazing sight of the grainy, zoomed-in picture of the anomaly from space.
She felt the familiar sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach as the helicopter lifted from the helipad. “Bird away and cleared, captain.” Nelson’s voice filled her headset as the helicopter did a sharp left turn and sped toward the coordinates the satellite had sent to her phone.
“Copy that, Lt. Nelson. Bird away and cleared.” Amsted’s voice was quiet and sure, and his hands stayed steady on the control. It was as if he was taking a Sunday drive or playing a video game, not flying toward something that could destroy the world.
“Mohr, ETA to the distortion?” Captain Amsted’s voice helped to calm her nerves and bring her back to the job at hand. She focused back on the computer screen as it mapped their current location from the time rip. The instruments KenSpec Labs had installed on the chopper were so accurate, it was within an inch of distance. She’d spent four years in college to learn to read the equations of these instruments and countless hours in flight simulation to be as accurate as the tools she used.
“We should be seeing it in a matter of seconds. Pull up another fifty feet to fly above…” Her voice trailed off as a jagged line filled with bright rainbow colors came into view. According to the computer, it was close to the size of a basketball. The radio crackled in her ears. She glanced at Captain Amsted as he narrowed his gaze, focusing on the sight of the distortion. She took a deep breath, pushing buttons to take still pictures along with steadying the video that was streaming to the air base. Colonel Barker’s voice came over the headset, barely discernable from the loud static.
"Sir, nothing seems to be happening with the exception of the, uh, rainbow-colored anomaly below. I see no distortions around the, um, lights, but a slight wavy pattern around the edges of the light. It seems to be pulsing slightly and the size varies, but it doesn't seem to be getting bigger. In fact, sir, it seems to be decreasing in size slightly." The captain seemed confused, unable to put his thoughts into words. Lisbeth could understand, her br
ain felt like it was sizzling inside her skull.
Lisbeth continued to type on her keyboard, sending information to Captain Amsted on the size and density of the lights in front of them. He could then relay the information as needed. All the scientific data was being sent directly to KenSpec Labs and the scientists sitting with Colonel Barker.
Terrible static filled her headphones just before a strange voice from the air base spoke. "Affirmative, Colonel, the rip is decreasing in size about one percent for every second it is visible." The voice that came through the headphones was apparently one of the scientists in the room at the military base.
“How long has the rip been open?" Barker’s voice was sounding farther away and somehow, echoed, sounding hollow.
"Approximately seven minutes. Visual confirmation on screen approximately thirty seconds." Lisbeth heard the words, but they didn’t make sense to her. She felt confused, outside of her own body. She looked up to the pictures being recorded that flashed on her plastic eyepiece. A fuzzy image of a face appeared. She focused on the face and realized she was looking at herself. Not a mirror image, but like a twin, enough to look alike but different all the same.
"Thirty seconds? Are you," Barker’s voice was interrupted by a loud popping noise that seemed to fill Lisbeth’s headphones. The sound so loud, she nearly ripped her helmet from her head to cover her ears. She barely registered the helicopter veering wildly, shaking hard and spinning out of control. Alarms sounded while Captain Amsted fought the controls of the helicopter to keep it from crashing. It felt like something had slapped the machine, sending it reeling backward. The occupants were completely silent, trusting Captain Amsted’s cool-under-pressure professionalism and training to save them.
The helicopter began to slow, the shaking stopped, and the alarms fell silent. Everything smoothed out, and for an unspecified amount of time, everything seemed to be totally quiet. Strangely, Lisbeth felt her heart still in her chest and then began to beat again. It seemed like she was being pulled from such solid darkness that it had stolen her breath. She sucked in air and shook her head and pushed the plastic eyepiece away from her face to turn and look at the rest of the crew in the chopper. Everyone was looking around, confusion on their faces. Crackling filled their ears before the headphones began to pick up sound again.
