"It was surprising! We hastily set up quarantine as best as we could in the facility. We didn't have an enormous medical facility in the Bunker, but we made do with plastic sheets and rubbing alcohol. It wasn't the most effective quarantine, and I wouldn't have been surprised if things went way worse than they did. So, when nothing happened after three days, I was curious. I took some samples from their bodies - nothing much, just a few mouth swabs - and I took a look at them. There were microbes, sure, but they were all dead! This wasn't an incompatibility issue, either, although I think that would have prevented a lot of cross-transfer of diseases anyways. The biologists said that microbes died whenever they went from one side to the other, but if that was so - why weren't our personnel getting sick? Let me explain; our stomach contains several pounds of essential microorganisms that help regulate digestion. If those died, as they should have, people should have gotten really, really ill. Yet we had people living there for weeks! This just goes to show that we still have a lot to learn about...Eden, as the higher-ups have called it. And...that we have much to be wary about.”
-Michael Yang, Chief Nursing Officer
-Surveillance Detail-
Aerial drones did two things on the other side: exploration and surveillance. Not only was it necessary to scout out the camp's surroundings, constant information about the state of its surroundings was also vital. Whereas the exploration drones were quadcopters equipped with longer battery lives and better cameras, the surveillance drones were winged machines with much faster propellors that allowed for an automated, 24/7 monitoring of the woods.
It was necessary, sure, but that didn't mean the people behind the monitors appreciated it very much. Being cooped up in a dark tent for up to eight hours in a row and staring at a wall of monitors that always showed nothing but the same yellow and red treetops was less than entertaining, to say the least. At least they didn't have to fly each individual one; their AI was advanced enough to handle automated flight patterns in the face of even the harshest conditions.
The pilot leaned back in his aluminum folding chair, setting down the can of soda on the desk to his side as he propped the back of his seat onto the table behind him. He stared at his smartphone, scrolling down his social media feed as the drone footage passed over miles and miles of unchanging foliage. Ever since the camp Wi-Fi network had been set up, the little metal and plastic devices had made an enormous comeback to Earth-level usage levels. Everyone, from the guards to the senior scientists, would pull their phones out every once in a while and check for any new updates or notifications or just use them to pass some idle time.
He sniffled, then grabbed the soda again and put it to his lips, tipping the aluminum can all the way back until the last drop of sugary sweetness fell into her mouth. The empty can was no match for his tight grasp, and it crumpled into a little disc as he squeezed it between his palm and fingers.
"Antonio? Could you get me another Dr. Pepper? I'll give you the money."
"Sure. I was going to go get something to eat, anyways. The cafeteria dishes up a mean BLT, I have to admit."
With careful aim, he tossed the crushed soda can at the wastebasket in the far corner of the tent. A satisfying clang rang out as it neatly bounced off the rim and into the wireframe trash bin. As his coworker stood up from his chair and stretched, he pulled his wallet out from his back pocket and pulled out two crumpled-up one-dollar bills from the inside flaps.
"Here," he said as he handed Antonio the two dollars. Because Antonio would be gone for the moment, he would have to watch over both of their assigned drone feeds for the moment. He shifted his chair to the left, setting himself down right between the two monitor arrays, then rediverted his attention towards his phone.
His social media feed was completely stale, with no new posts or updates from the accounts he followed. He sighed; perhaps his expectations were too high? Sure, he was on another world, but was it really that exciting? The work was boring, but that wasn't the only thing that was disappointing. Not only were they in what appeared to be any old national park forest, but civilization was literally within walking distance - this was like a "camping trip" in the backyard, like that one he had about twenty-five years ago, as a child.
His phone no longer of interest, he snorted and set it aside, rubbing his eyes as he stared at the drone camera feeds. They're almost out of eye drops, he thought as he grabbed the tiny bottle in front of him and held it above his eyes. The long hours of surveillance detail really dried a person's eyeballs out, and the cool saline liquid felt like heaven as it dripped into first one eye, then the other.
Something on the screen flashed by, a streak of contrast from the sheet of yellows and oranges. He furled his eyebrows, then sat up and pressed the space bar on the keyboard to his left. The moving treetops paused, the blur just out of the camera's sight. One of Antonio's drones had caught something odd, or so it seemed, and he skipped back a couple of seconds to confirm his suspicions. Something strange was in the woods, a string of bright colors cutting through the brush. The man looked at the monitor in the lower-right corner, then clicked on the streak. The approximate location of his click was marked by a green X on the drone tracker, labeled "Drone #24, 09:18:02 - 302°H 18°V".
"Let's see what this is," he muttered as he set the drone to "Constant Monitor, Waypoint 1". The camera feed suddenly unfroze, and the drone began to turn around and head towards the X. He zoomed in on the streak as the drone circled around the waypoint, the autofocus painfully slow as the image gradually sharpened...
"...oh, crap...Oh! Oh, gosh, oh..."
He hastily clicked the "Report Observance" button, his hands beginning to shake as he typed.
"Hey, Mason, I got you your-"
"Antonio, get someone, this is important."
"What-"
"Just do it!" he mumbled.
"What's going on?"
"There's..."
He looked up at Antonio, a sense of urgency visible in his eyes. The mass of ponies continued to move east-southeast as the two stared at each other, the drone still circling over its waypoint as the creatures below returned to their encampment.
-William-
"I'm not a general!"
"Well, you have to do something!"
"I don't have the military expertise! Don't you have someone that can take over?"
"We're not asking you to take action, alright? I'm asking you to prepare for any contingency-"
"But I don't know what to-"
The President sighed as William tried to protest. "We'll send someone to assume command of the troops garrisoned over there. For now, though, just order everyone to return to safety."
"Safety? What's that supposed to mean?"
"Then, order security to set up defensive measures."
"I don't know what that means..."
"Understood?"
"No!"
Boop...Boop...Boop...
William slammed the desk phone on its stand, then leaned back in his office chair. He stared at the ceiling as he slowly walked through his next course of action, then turned towards the monitor and the recordings of the aliens' trek through the forest. The horses were back, alright, and in enormous numbers. The spears and swords that they carried with them meant that they definitely were prepared for a fight, and the boxes and sacks they hauled in wooden carts meant they were here to stay.
What was he supposed to do? The aliens were carrying weapons, but that didn't confirm that they would attack the Portgate camp. There was still a chance, though, of offensive action, especially considering the last time both species had interacted. And that would be a disaster - not just for the natives, who were certainly vulnerable to fast-traveling lead, but for the humans who had yearned for a peaceful first contact.
Or rather, a second contact.
He ran his hand through his hair, then picked up his phone again. The head of Project Eden was just about to hit the speed-dial when someone knocked on his door, the raps soft yet demanding.
"Who is it?", William asked inquisitively.
"A representative, whose goods and services might be of use to a gentleman such as yourself..."
William snuck a quick glance at his computer, his schedule noticeably void of visitors. "I don't believe we have an appointment..."
The door swung open as the strange businessman stepped inside. Which was strange, because William swore that it had been locked ever since he had come back from lunch.
"How did you-"
"Hello there, Mister Anderson. John Baker, at your service," the man said as he extended his hand. William stared at the well-manicured hand extended towards him, then hesitantly took it in his and shook it, unsure if he should have called for security or not. He was amazingly dressed, with a business suit and black tie that looked exorbitantly expensive and the suitcase and watch to match, but something about the overly handsome man seemed off...
"Why are you here?" he dubiously asked.
"Straight to business, then? Excellent. Well," he slyly chuckled, "I've heard from one of my...sources...that you need a little bit of, let's say...assistance."
"Excuse me?"
"Of course, we have to have some context now, shouldn't we? I represent Lockheed-Martin as a salesman, of sorts, and I-"
"I'm not interested in whatever you're selling, especially not from the military-industrial complex," William huffed. Sure, the man hadn't killed him yet, but something very fishy was going on in his office.
"Really now?" asked the strange man as he raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure it may seem that way, what with the heroic return of your three adventurers in the news and all that. 'Interdimensional Castaways Return Home,' now that's what I call a sensationalist headline!"
"Get to the point," William uneasily demanded.
The shady businessman leaned forward, and William caught a whiff of his heady, four-figure cologne. "My point, Mister Anderson, is that I'm also aware that there's more to the story than the ink and pulp. That there may be a few facts that were...held in reserve."
"W-What are you talking about?" His gaze shifted around, searching for anything other than the man in front of him.
"Oh, just a few interesting key points. Like...how the Portgate is still open, and has been for quite a few days. Man, that's interesting! Especially since just a month ago, the papers reported that you guys could barely hold it open for ten minutes."
"How do you - I mean, what are you talking about?"
"Not very good at hiding things, huh? Well, I was also led to believe that there may be some things on the other side that are, shall we say...of reasonable concern? And don't worry, your secret is safe with us; after all, we just want to help you out."
"Ugh...how?"
"So glad you asked!"
William was about to lay his head on his desk, but the man suddenly slammed his suitcase on it and threw the top open.
"Jesus!"
"Weapons, Anderson! Weapons, the foundation of society. We've been looking for a place to try out some of these bad boys, but ever since the global clampdown on terrorism, as you know, the market has shrunk significantly. Peace is great and all, but we have a business to run!"
The man began to pull out sheet after sheet of paper and hand each one to William, each one either a blueprint for weapons of all shapes and sizes or a legal document with immeasurably tiny fine print. William grabbed one after the other, staring at the schematics. There was one for a high-wattage laser turret, one for an experimental battle rifle, one for an armed drone...
"And that's just the surface of what we have planned! Five years of no conflict at all is great for brainstorming, and I'm sure a man such as yourself can see the value in our products."
"I'm not the guy you're looking for!"
"Ah, no no, I thought we agreed to keep this hush hush, right? Nobody else needs to know," the man said with a grin.
"But I - no...oh, fine."
"Now, don't you worry a thing, Anderson. This is all courtesy of our company, of course. I know you're a busy man, so I'll condense this down to a couple of sentences. We get to test out our toys in the field - that is, through the Portgate - and you get some defensive measures to use against whatever lies in the unknown, free of charge! We've been absolutely itching to do some quality control, and this discovery of yours is the perfect opportunity! And if that doesn't sound good enough, the Portgate Project takes no legal responsibility."
"This still doesn't sound convincing to me. Besides, the government-"
"The government will be fine with it. We have a lot of influence, you know. Do it for science, Anderson. You know how the greatest advances in technology often come from military research? Don't you want to make our world a better place?"
"I...I..."
-Noah-
"God, it's weird to be back at work again," said Noah as he took a draw from his electronic cigarette. "Sitting around, doing regular two-hour patrols..."
"Put that thing away, Noah! It's making me light-headed."
"You're always light-headed, Leah. And I guess you'll want me to stop drinking? Which reminds me, can't we have good beer for once?", Noah complained loudly.
"This is the only thing they have in the cafeteria that's even remotely alcoholic," Andrew sighed as he lifted the bottle of near-lukewarm big-brand brew to his lips. A military cargo truck passed by, the beige vehicle roaring as it carried its load down the main corridor of the camp. He checked his watch. 1:28 PM - on Earth, at least. In the forest, the horizon was glowing a brilliant orange as the sun began to set.
"Oh, by the way, did you hear about the project head?" Leah asked, excited to share her first piece of gossip since she had returned to civilization.
"Anderson? Doesn't he have a bunch more responsibility now? Like, what with all of the business that's been going down recently."
"Well, last I heard, someone looked at his office CCTV..."
"And?"
She smiled deviously. "And he had a bottle of vodka and a two-liter of orange Fanta on his desk."
Everyone in the little ring of friends laughed as another truck passed by.
"Well, the man does have a lot to handle now," Andrew chuckled as he waved at their surroundings. The wilderness was beautiful, like something straight out of Yellowstone, and a campy atmosphere had developed across the alien meadow. Sitting on three metal chairs in a circle, the trio felt perfectly comfy even without a fire or marshmallows to roast. Rows and rows of tents added to the nature atmosphere...tents that were the responsibility of one William Anderson.
"I haven't had a good mixed drink in forever! I just realized that. Fanta and vodka, curious combo..."
"Shush, Noah. But yeah, they said he was muttering something about 'those accursed businessmen and their shifty deals'..."
"Heh. I know what he's talking about."
"So, Leah, how's work going?"
"All the biologists are going crazy for me! I've been showing them around the place, telling them about the plants and critters and stuff. Dunno why they'd want me, though, since I know nothing about the organic sciences. How about you, Andrew?"
"Nothing much. Just helping set stuff up, like tents and stuff."
"They're making you do that? You're, like, supposed to be working on super complex machines!"
"Well, ever since the portal opened, the Portgate ring is pretty much for decorative purposes. If we ever bring in something with a lot of parts, I might help out. Till then, they're just keeping me around here for general construction labor, maybe a few repairs here and there."
"I haven't been doing much either," Noah added. "Well, at least with the "being part of a special task force" thing. I have been on duty as a sentry, though; nothing exciting's happened, sadly, so I can't complain."
"So, it's pretty much been back to business?"
"Yep."
"..."
*Beep-Beep!*
"Oh, gosh, what now?" Noah complained.
"Noah, what's going on?" Andrew asked. Leah and Andrew watched as Noah pulled out a black plastic brick out of his belt, then sighed as he read the display.
"Head to Security meeting area at 1400, attendance mandatory for emergency meeting. Why wait if it's an emergency?"
"Is that a-"
"I know, I know, Leah. A pager. My dad had one of these."
"Isn't that just the quaintest thing..."
"You should go, Noah."
"Yeah, Andrew, this is probably still important either way." Noah stood up and folded up the chair he was sitting on, leaning it on the side of the tent behind him.
"Alright, later!" Leah yelled as Noah began to walk towards the Security tent.
"Later, guys," Noah called back. His destination was actually rather close by; a short three-minute walk through the narrow walkways of the encampment brought him to a comparatively large tent near the Portgate. He stepped inside, the mass of tan and black uniforms in the room confirming the purpose of the tent.
Most of the armed personnel on the other side of the Portgate was comprised of soldiers pulled from the U.S. Army, with a few coming from the facility's own security forces. Although they were technically classified as an entirely new entity separate from both parties, not enough time had passed for them to be issued standard uniforms or equipment. Everybody was sitting down somewhere around the room from chairs to tables to the floor, so Noah just pulled up a nearby crate and sat down on it.
"Is everyone here?" asked the man standing in the back of the tent near the whiteboard. "Alright, let's get started. You're all wondering why you're here. Let me start by saying that this information is confidential and should not be shared with anyone outside of this room."
Mumbles of curiosity bubbled up around the room.
"At 0920 hours, one of our surveillance drones picked up...discovered...came across this."
He pressed a button on the clicker in his hand, and the flat-screen TV behind him switched to footage of the surrounding forest. The murmurs rose as the streak of color appeared on the screen, then crescendoed to an agitated buzz as the footage zoomed in on the brightly-colored horses below.
"Settle down! Settle down. I believe most of you are familiar with these creatures. They're the locals. And they're armed."
Silence broke out across the room, then disappeared as the mumbling resurfaced once again.
"I know they're just wielding bows and swords, but they can still be dangerous. Don't underestimate them, especially since we haven't seen what they can do. Hey, quiet! QUIET!"
Reluctantly, the audience stopped talking amongst each other.
"Look, this is serious stuff. There's a huge army headed our way, and we have to be prepared if they attack. Alright?"
Everyone looked at each other, then nodded silently.
"Now, we've been ordered to 'standby on defense'...whatever that means. So, after some consideration, me and Lieutenant Jackson here have come up with some plans. Everyone, I need your full attention for the next three hours. We will start by detailing the layout of the outer fortifications, then move on to a briefing on our..."
Noah listened intently for the first thirty minutes, then nodded off for the next three and a half hours.