To my loving family who accepted my erratic writing hours and a few cold meals.
Today seemed like the perfect day to burn bridges. Technocon, a small technologies company, had promised Susan free rein on all her projects. She ran her lab, hired her own staff, and ordered what she needed within budgetary reason.
Technocon was a liar, and she’d swallowed their scientific support story like it was candy, but really what they had served her was chocolate-dipped bullshit.
Who said a genius couldn’t be an idiot?
Out of public sight, she melted into her office chair and leaned her head against her hands. The universities had laughed at her proposals and her math on dimensional travel. She hadn’t been able to find a grant anywhere to allow her to build her machine, which led her to the private sector—to Technocon.
For five whole minutes, she’d been able to open and sustain a dimensional gateway to…God knows where. She had sent a chimp through and back yesterday with no apparent damage to his cellular structure. Last night she’d celebrated with her team, taking them all to dinner. It seemed like a hundred years ago.
Sitting at her desk, she stared at her blank computer terminal. The last seven years of her life were accumulated on the hard drive. Calculations, theories and articles she’d written. Her gaze wandered. Not a single picture adorned her desk or walls—no boyfriend or kids, not even a pet. How empty it all appeared.
She’d sacrificed everything for a glimpse of blinding blue light that led to possible exploration of the unknown and…adventure. What a waste.
She’d created DOUG as a means for peaceful exploration. To study other cultures on alternate Earths, maybe learn from their mistakes or successes. She doubted the military invading her lab wanted the same thing. Ultimately, she was responsible for any consequences of DOUG’s misuse. As creator, the weight of responsibility sat heavily on her shoulders.
She rose to her feet and straightened her labcoat with a sharp tug. Before she left her office, she grabbed the document her printer spit out and ignored the pointed stares from the soldiers while she exited the work area.
Crumpling the paper in her hand, she strode across the lobby, her labcoat swaying with her momentum. She couldn’t stop seeing the words in her mind’s eye.
Congratulations, the United States Marine Corp (USMC) has a legal interest in the Dimensional Opening Universal Gateway (DOUG), therefore you must present the following list: design specification, running systems, test results…
Didn’t matter how pretty their wordage, they were taking over her freaking life’s work. In less than five minutes she had typed her resignation—not too many ways of saying I fucking quit.
Her heels clicked on the cheap, faux marble flooring, and the sound echoed in the wide open space. The soldiers milling around the area parted like the Red Sea as she stormed toward the closed wooden door to the project manager’s office.
She swung it open and paused, taking a deep, shaky breath. Nothing good ever came from violence. Racing across the manager’s office and tearing out his flabby throat wouldn’t prevent DOUG from falling into the wrong hands.
Jeff sat facing the door. His assistant squirmed in a small plastic chair next to the desk and stared at his tablet.
“Get out, pipsqueak.” Susan pointed to the doorway.
“Yes, Dr. Barlow.” The assistant didn’t even glance at Jeff before jumping to his feet and scurrying from the room.
She slammed the door behind him.
“Was that necessary?” Jeff folded his pudgy fingers over his belly. At first sight, he gave the impression of a chubby favorite uncle, but under that soft exterior lived a cold-hearted number cruncher.
Susan used her best die-and-go-to-hell glare on him but it didn’t work so she tossed her neat resignation on his desk with the crumpled memo instead. “How could you have allowed DOUG to fall into their hands?” She leaned across his desk, jabbing her finger at him to punctuate her words. “You promised no military.” Tightness squeezed her chest. She wouldn’t dare sob in front of this jackal. Clearing her suddenly rough throat, she met his beady-eyed stare.
He spread his hands as if pleading with her. “I never thought in a million years you’d make that thing work.”
She took a step back, his words a slap to her ego. “What?” Her voice rose to a painful octave. “Why fund it then?”
“Tax break. We needed a pro-bono project or Uncle Sam took a chunk of our profits, but you made your crazy idea work. So I had to sell it to stay in the green.”
“They’ll abuse it,” she whispered. “DOUG was meant for exploration. I wanted scientists to cross into other dimensions, people who could understand the delicate balance between universes. Those soldiers will conquer or destroy any dimension they travel to, and God knows what they’ll bring back.”
“Or they’ll prevent us from being the ones who are conquered or destroyed. Did you ever think that maybe a different version of you might be developing the same machine in another dimension?”
“You’re afraid of DOUG. It’s a gateway to learning, trade—” She saved her breath. They’d argued this before a thousand times until she was blue in the face and Jeff’s face had been red.
He lifted the paper she’d thrown on his desk and read her resignation, then promptly dropped it in the shredder. “Nice try, Susan. Read the fine print on your contract. As long as the project is open, you’re bound to it. You can’t quit until you’ve trained a replacement.”
“Or what? I can’t be held prisoner. It’s against my civil rights.” She folded her arms. When she signed the contract she had thought that clause would protect her job, not trap her. Crap. They were going to force her hand somehow. She could see it in Jeff’s smug expression. “The contract states that once completed no one can take over my project without my consent.”
“You still haven’t had a human test subject go through DOUG, only animals. Technically, it’s not finished.”
“Bastard.”
“Flirting won’t get you anywhere with me, toots. According to subsection one seven four, you can get arrested for obstructing a military project of this classification.” He produced a file from his desk and offered it to her. “You’re not a civilian anymore. You’ve been drafted.”
Susan skimmed over the file. “This was prepared ahead of time. How long have you been working on this?”
“Doesn’t matter. Every bigwig with more stripes than brains is waiting for someone to hit the start button on DOUG. Either get in there and take some credit for your hard work or let me call the MPs in to arrest you.” He leaned forward and waited.
“I hate you.”
“I don’t care.” He raised a bushy eyebrow. “You’ll never get another job in research again if you ditch now. Choose.”
Exhaling a long, slow breath, she forced her shoulders not to sag. All that work, all those sleepless nights, and for what? To create a machine the government didn’t understand and would probably misuse. She clenched her fists. No one would take her control of DOUG away. Not now, not ever. “I’ll start it.”
She spun and left his office. He might think he’d outsmarted her, but there was still a way out if she could muster the courage.
Returning to her designated area in Technocon, she forced herself to meet the gaze of anyone brave enough to look her way. She passed a large window in the narrow hallway that didn’t face the outdoors but gave a view inside her lab. DOUG sat in the center of the room, a slim, clear rod standing eight feet tall. She slowed her pace to admire her achievement. At each compass mark rose a smaller version of the main rod. Thick, conductive fiber optic cables connected the rods at their bases, making a circle of electric tentacles.
By the wall, her staff stood guard at their computers, attention focused on the warm-up sequences and not on the gun-toting marines at their sides.
She entered her lab and pushed her way through the military personnel. Everyone turned to face her, and all her bravado wavered at being the center of attention, the butt of the unspoken joke. Leader of the DOUG project tricked by her supposed supporter and now an employee of the US military.
“Dr. Barlow?” An important-appearing, middle-aged man approached. “I’m General—”
“Don’t bother with your name. I won’t remember it by the end of the day. Kate, start it up.” She left General Buttinski gaping as she circulated to each workstation.
With a whispered request, she sent each member of her team on individual missions outside the lab. Her heart galloped as she changed the settings on DOUG’s start up to maximum power and glared at the thieves observing by the back wall.
If the military moved their uniformed asses fast enough, they’d make it to the exit in time and wouldn’t be hurt by the possible explosion. She really didn’t know what would happen with the overload.
Wiping her sweaty palms on her coat, she listened to the increasing hum of the crystal rods and faced her audience. “DOUG was created to open gateways between dimensions. I’ve studied multi-dimensional science long enough to see a pattern that integrated reality with mysticism.” She gestured toward her creation and blinked away the tears burning behind her eyelids. “It’s the next best thing to space exploration.” By some miracle, she’d kept her voice steady.
Heart drumming, Susan caught a glimpse of the red alert warning sign on the computer screen. The overload grew, and it would be seconds before the audio alarms outside her lab went off—before there was no turning back. “Naturally, some would claim it’s a supernatural phenomenon, but I assure you that solid science has been used to develop this technology.”
A blue glow formed around the rods as they shed the extra electrons produced. The protons remained trapped within, building a concentration strong enough to puncture a hole through reality and create a bridge to a parallel dimension. She only needed to hit the switch to release the energy, but that wasn’t the plan.
Her fingers itched and she rubbed them together, relieving the ache to stop the process and end her madness. Could she escape the lab in time if it exploded?
The screens flashed red and the sirens outside her lab rang. Startled by the sudden noise, she jumped and pointed to her audience. “Everyone out! It’s going to blow.” A low vibration ran through the floor, and loose objects on the tables rattled.
As one, the mob crowded toward the exit.
The rods shook. A blue halo surrounded DOUG. She couldn’t look away from the swirling light gathering in the center of the rods. It faded at the edges into nothing. The power within the Gate thrummed through the building. She’d never poured so much energy into the device. What would happen?
All she wanted was to make a difference in the world. Instead, she’d be a footnote in some military manual and a stain on the lab wall.
Blinded by the light, she shielded her eyes and turned to follow the last person out of the lab. She took an unsteady step, but a powerful blast rushed past her legs, knocking her off her feet. Gasping, she flailed and tumbled forward, heels over head, yet never hit the wall.
Round and round she fell. Her head spun and nausea flipped her stomach. If this was the road to heaven, they needed a better engineer.
With a sudden halt, she hit something hard. Her back ached with the impact. She tried to scream but nothing came out. Flopping onto her side, she gasped until her lungs remembered how to work. Next time she blew up something, she would get out of the freaking way faster.
Stars flashed in her vision. Air finally flowed into her chest, and she let out a groan. She felt more like she’d fallen than been blown to pieces.
Something cool and soft touched her cheek. She flinched and tried to sit up but only managed to roll onto her stomach. That didn’t help her nausea, and she struggled to keep breakfast down.
Fuck it. The blast hadn’t killed her so the military could clean her puke. Then they could haul her ass to jail—or the hospital.
Resting, she waited for Jeff’s yells for her arrest and execution, but the only sounds came from birdsongs. She jerked her face off the moist ground and grunted.
Birds? Had she blow the roof off the building?
Cool.
She rubbed her blurry eyes and blinked. Her heart did a double beat. She shook her head and blinked again.
Surrounded by lush green plants, Susan sat on a carpet of soft moss. She rose onto shaky, numb legs. A giant tree loomed thirty feet over her head. Three grown men touching fingertips might be able to hug the trunk.
There wasn’t a forest for miles, yet here she stood in the middle of one. She did a slow three-sixty. Tree, tree, bush, tree, building. Bingo.
Before her towered a stone structure overgrown with flowering vines. Taking one slow step at a time, she approached it. The steps were swept clean of any debris or growth. She climbed, listening for aything inside. Huge gaps in the walls let the sunlight in between the stone slabs, and deep, worn engravings covered them. She traced one with her fingertip and didn’t recognize the language. Hell, she couldn’t even read the symbol. Where was she?
Sucking in a sharp breath, she clapped her hands over her mouth.
DOUG had worked?
She was standing in another dimension.
Alive.
Her trip had been unintentional yet successful. She needed to high five someone. It had worked just like she’d said it would. All those people who’d laughed at her idea could shove it up their collective—
Twisting around with a foolish grin cramping her cheeks, she saw only rainforest. Shadows covered the ground since the trees’ canopy blocked most of the sunlight. Her grin faded and she broke into a cold sweat.
Oh shit, it had worked.
A vacuum of dread sucked the excitement from her body. The explosion must have punctured a hole through the dimensional veil and thrown her through. She couldn’t see the blue portal light. Without the machine, the gateway couldn’t remain open. Or ever open again since it should be slag with the rest of her lab. She shivered and pulled her coat tighter.
She was alone. Stranded God knows where.
For all she knew, T-rex lived over the next hill or worse, the Nazis had won World War II.
Taking a shuddering breath, she closed her eyes. She was a brilliant scientist, graduating at the top of all her classes. The unknown wasn’t something to fear but to be embraced and studied. However, field operations had never thrilled her. She was a lab geek with delusions of exploration. She’d always pictured herself guiding those brave souls who would step onto a new world from the safety of Technocon, not being that person. Glancing over her shoulder at the forest, she took a steadying breath.
What lived out there?
Birds sang, loud and uninterrupted by the hum of cars or machines. She couldn’t see any electrical lines or other buildings. Please, let there be some kind of path or road to follow. How long could she survive in the wilderness? Probably a couple days before something ate her.
The birds fell silent. She froze, facing the forest. Nothing moved. Her heart galloped as she searched the gloom. She backed into the building, not wanting to take her eyes off the woods. A crack in the floor caught her heel, and she stumbled while her arms pinwheeled until she caught her balance.
All right, she needed to get a grip. Just because things were quiet didn’t mean she should panic. Breaking her leg would be a death sentence. She kicked off her shoes. The logic was sound but the adrenaline coursing through her body told her to screw off and run. A cold sweat broke out over her skin, and a cool wind made her shiver.
She scanned the inside of the building. It didn’t have a roof. A stone altar in the center offered the only shelter. She hurried across to it and laid a hand over the smooth, cool surface. Breathing a sigh of relief, she closed her eyes for a heartbeat. It wasn’t bloodstained. That was a good sign, right?
She crept around to the other side and knelt behind it. Hiding felt right.
Crouched on the cold stone floor, she hugged her knees to her chest. At least the military hadn’t get her machine. A small consolation while squatting in another dimension, all alone like a frightened animal.
The rustle of leaves to her left made her squeak. She clapped her hand over her mouth and peeked around the corner. Something with silver-gray fur crawled under the vines through one of the wall’s many gaps.
Please let that be a big-ass raccoon. She watched as the creature’s dark, wet nose moved in her direction and sniffed. All her muscles seized. She couldn’t move or breathe.
The nose pushed through, followed by a large, wolf-like head. On his stomach, he crept into the building. Her vision tunneled as he rose to his hind legs and kept rising until he towered over her. Long claws protruded from his fingers and toes. Swinging his head, he sniffed the air. Three jagged scars ran over his muzzle. His amber gaze met her stare, and he bared his sharp teeth. As he moved, thick, solid muscles slid under his silver fur.
With a knocking heart, Susan was anchored to the spot. A werewolf. A real, honest-to-God werewolf stood not five feet from her. She hadn’t crossed dimensions. She’d died and gone to hell.
As he stepped toward her, something flipped off in her brain and it stopped functioning. Deductive reasoning vanished like a cheap parlor trick. Sixty thousand years of human instinct buried in her genes kicked in, and Susan scuttled away from the beast until her head hit the stone wall. Ignoring the sharp pain, she grabbed the vines and pulled herself to her feet. All the while she couldn’t stop staring at this magnificent creature made of nightmares. She took a deep breath and let out a scream that rattled her tonsils.