//------------------------------// // Chapter 32: In Someone Else's Home // Story: Through the Aurora // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Agent Barton walked calmly through the halls of Barrow Observatory, his ears alert to everything happening around him. The base normally had only a few people during winters, a crew that he could’ve counted on one hand. Thanks to his agency, there were now two hundred people. They passed him in the halls, hurrying along with lab coats or pushing carts of supplies. Department of Defense dollars had turned this modest observatory into something that scientists stationed elsewhere could envy. Assuming any more civilians ever got stationed here. His radio hissed and vibrated again, and he took another glance down at the screen. The same message as before. “Supervising Officer needed urgently in command.” Barton strode forward at a brisk pace, not quite a run. They didn’t pay him well enough to run. They hadn’t removed the original crew. They could take no chances about what had caused the events of Theodor’s disappearance, even something completely unrelated like the piercings of the janitor mopping a floor two levels down. The new command building was in what had been a stretch of open snowpack, as far from the experimental tower as one could be and still attach to the same buildings. It was a temporary structure, assembled from a half dozen shipping containers all sealed together. Even with the portable reactor running all the time, it was always just a little too cold for comfort. Agent Barton shivered once, adjusting his jacket as he stepped inside. Men and women stopped what they were doing as he passed, saluting or just waiting respectfully for him to go first. He nodded in response to each one. These were good people, doing good work. He wasn’t about to take their contributions for granted. A pair of uniformed marines stood outside at all times. One took his badge into an electronic scanner, before returning it a second later as the door hissed open with compressed air.  A wave of voices struck into Barton as he made his way inside. He tried to evaluate the emotional tone of the room in just a few moments. There was a great deal of nervous fear, joined with something else. Eagerness?  Computers rang the outside of the room, perhaps a dozen technicians manning them at any one time. The center had a single large flat screen mounted at table-level, projecting real time information from the tower. His eyes widened as he saw what was reflected there. Current power consumption, 25 megawatts.  “Dr. Bennett,” he said, tapping two fingers on the glass. “I’m sure you have an interesting story for me this morning.” He glanced to the side. “Is Foster here with my coffee yet?” He didn’t see her—she wasn’t paid well enough to run either. “Interesting is one way to describe it,” Dr. Bennett said, holding a dozen different printouts in his arms, all overlapping and confused together. “You wouldn’t… believe.” He rolled his eyes. “I’d believe many things, Doctor. Be succinct, please.” The scientist reached down to the table, manipulating the controls. He switched on the speakers, which filled the room with hissing static for a few seconds, silencing everyone. “That’s it?” Agent Barton raised an eyebrow. “I hope there’s more.” “Naturally,” Dr. Bennett said. “At first, we thought it was… environmental static, though it was unusually centralized around the tower. So we ran a de-noising algorithm.” The fluffy lines of nonsense resolved with one Fourier transform after another into a series of short and long pulses. Dr. Bennett pressed play again, filling the room with the distinctive dash-dot-dash of Morse code. Or something so similar as to be indistinguishable. “It only lasted for a few moments at first,” Dr. Bennett said. “I wasn’t sure… if we would lose it. So we recreated the conditions of the initial experiment. We’ve been running it continuously for the last hour.” Now that he knew what to look for, Barton moved one hand rapidly through the controls, searching for the transcript of what they’d received. Someone had already translated it back into Roman characters. English words. “No bullshit?” he asked, tapping the transcript again. “No one creatively interpreted this?” “It’s real,” one of the technicians said. “There are a few spelling errors, but otherwise it looks good.” “English wasn’t his first language,” Agent Barton muttered. ‘IF ANYONE IS LISTENING ON THE OTHER SIDE EXTREME DANGER STOP THIS REALM IS EXTREMELY HOSTILE STOP DISMANTLE THE AURORA EXPERIMENT IMMIDIATELY STOP CANNOT LET THEM THROUGH STOP MUST PROTECT THE EARTH STOP TELL MY FAMILY I LOVE THEM STOP’ Someone thrust a cup of coffee into his hand. He took it, grinning up at Agent Foster. “You’re just in time for the fireworks.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been up for hours, Barton. You should leave your radio on.” He took a nice long sip from the insulated mug. “Maybe. This constant twilight is wreaking havoc on my internal clock. I need some sunlight.” She ignored him. “From the look of it, our missing kid’s equipment stopped working months ago. He must’ve worked up a transmitter of some kind. Spark gap by the look of that signal, real dirty. Don’t know how he’s powering it.” “Very self-sacrificing,” he agreed, looking back to Dr. Bennett. “Has anyone tried to say anything to him?” The man looked annoyed. “We were waiting for your approval. He’s been sending that same message, with little errors and variations each time. Probably doing it by hand. “We have a bridge,” he muttered, awed. “I need to call the Pentagon. First, though… ask him what’s so dangerous. If it’s so bad we should dismantle the observatory, how is he alive after months alone in the snow?” “Even if he has a receiver, it’s probably shit,” the technician said. “We need something short and simple.” “Right.” Agent Barton cleared his throat. “Say: ‘MESSAGE RECEIVED STOP EXPLAIN DANGER STOP’. Get that repeating for a few minutes and see what happens.” While they rushed to obey, Barton made his way to the window, where he could look up across the base at the observatory tower. It looked strange in the perpetual twilight, as though the greens and purples of the aurora borealis had been draped around it. Their own massive power cables now ran up the tower, hissing and steaming with the incredible volume of energy they were pumping out. Apparently into nothing. Even as someone who knew nothing about the work these people were doing, it didn’t feel right that 25 megawatts could be pumped into something for an hour and have anything other than melted metal. He sipped at his coffee, feeling a little more human with every sip. Foster followed him over, voice a whisper. “What do you think?” He shook his head. “We’re missing something. Maybe something he isn’t telling. I don’t know many civvies who would open with ‘take apart the experiment that could get me home.’ How about ‘send me supplies so I can build it on this side?’ or ‘Help me open it all the way.’ Last we checked, we don’t even know what’s creating the door on the other side, do we?” She shook her head. “Dr. Bennett has hypothesized something about natural structures that might do something similar. Maybe large metallic formations that could briefly open during a lightning storm on the other side.” “The ‘Back to the Future’ solution.” He rolled his eyes, finally draining his mug. “Thank you for the coffee. I’ll probably need another after talking to the Pentagon.” She grinned. “I put another pot on for you, partner. You can get it yourself.” “We’re getting a response!” the technician yelled. “This signal is different! Parsing it now…” The room filled with hissing static, which resolved into an orderly series of beeps. Agent Barton couldn’t quite translate it by ear, though of course he didn’t have to. The computer was doing that, reading in a mechanical, synthesized voice. “UNKNOWN BIOAGENT STOP CHANGED ME LIKELY TO BE FATAL STOP IMMIDIATELY CONTAGEOUS AND IRRIVERSIBLE STOP” The words rang through the control room, which went eerily silent other than the cooling fans of their many computers. Barton quietly removed his phone, flipping through to the scan of the strange photograph that had turned this from an empty waste of tax dollars into a real investigation. There were the three not-animals, obviously posing together. They were in a cave, a cave with distinctly mechanical suggestions on the ceiling. They don’t look like they’re dying of space Ebola to me.  He flipped the phone off, walking back to the control panel. “Anything else?” “No,” the technician said, a moment later. “Message is repeating, just like before. A few little errors, but it’s the same one.” You’re not being honest with me, Theo. What are you hiding? Whatever it was, he had no doubt that powers greater than himself would be making the decision about what to do. Maybe Theo would get his way, and he would get to die a martyr to protect Earth from dangers it had never understood. Or maybe more ambitious minds would prevail, and they wouldn’t put this discovery to waste. “I have a new message for you,” he said, breaking the silence. “Send: ‘PLEASE STAY NEAR YOUR RADIO STOP’. I don’t want any other messages going through until I’ve had a word with command. None of us have the authority to decide what to do here.” He turned to go, ignoring their protests. “Text me if we get anything else from his side.” But that’s an assumption too. We don’t know that’s really Theo Pichler over there. But if it wasn’t their missing computer programmer, who knew how to send Morse code? Who knew English? He found an empty room, checked it to be sure it was secure, then made his call. He shared everything they knew, along with his own feelings on what they were getting. That was the entire point of keeping someone like him on the ground, after all. He had a good gut for these things. After an hour, he returned to the control room, feeling as though he’d been gone for days. There was no change at all to the energy of the place, with technicians still working furiously at their stations, exchanging notes and muttering to each other about their observations of the bridge.  “Was it just the one message?” he asked, tossing his phone up and down as he walked. “Just the ‘Can’t stay long’ thing?” “Yes.” Dr. Bennett was the first to answer. He’d swapped out his massive piles of printouts for a single tablet computer. “And I’m fairly certain our contact is still there on the other end, even if he isn’t repeating the message any longer. It’s the bridge itself—we’re getting feedback from that side. I believe something on that side is helping to… hold it open, if you like. Only with the active expenditure of energy on both ends can we have this conversation. Even now, we’ve only opened it wide enough to exchange radio transmissions. Based on these numbers, we’ll need an order of magnitude more energy to make something wide enough for a human to pass through.” “That sounds… ridiculous,” Agent Foster said, glancing over his shoulder at his tablet. “Isn’t that the kind of power a whole town uses? I’ve climbed that tower—everything on it would explode if we ran that much power through it.” “It’s not going into the tower,” the nearest technician said. An older woman this time, behind a pair of thick glasses. “I can’t explain it, but we’re reading consumption of about ten kilowatts from the array. The rest of that energy is going somewhere else. Not on base, satellite doesn’t have anywhere that hot.” Agent Barton followed her gesture to the screen on her station, showing Barrow from high above. There was a little patch of heat from the tower, consistent with ten kilowatts or so of energy use.  “Well it’s a good thing we’ve got more,” Barton said. “Because our goal hasn’t changed. We’re getting that door open, no matter how much of a martyr our scientist wants to make himself.” Agent Foster turned, raising an eyebrow. “What about everything he said about the bioagent? The… evidence we saw?” Many in this room didn’t know about the photograph, and that wasn’t about to change now. “We’ll be taking those threats seriously. Utqiaġvik is being evacuated. As of this moment, this facility is in quarantine.” He held up his phone. “The boys back in Psych have some questions we’re supposed to ask. We’re going to keep him on the line, stay with me…” Summer swam to the edge of the water, staring up at the underside. In its way, it was a sheet of reflective glass, and the world on the other side was one she could barely understand. It was where she belonged, yet she couldn’t shake the fear that she wouldn’t be able to pass through it safely. It was certainly quite a nightmare. There was no way to change back, she’d be cursed to stay in the ocean forever. Seaquestria was beautiful, certainly. But it would be her prison. “Have no fear, we were expecting this,” said a voice just behind her. It was Cloudhunter, the creature who had arrived to escort them back to the surface just that morning. Considering he was one of the only familiar faces on Mt. Aris, Summer was happy to see him.   It was time to get the Horizon repaired, and Sharp wouldn’t hear of having the repairs done without him. “Don’t know how to use the pearl yet, I take it?” Summer was the only bird in the group beside Cloudhunter, so it wasn’t hard to figure out he was talking about her. She nodded. “I don’t,” she admitted. “I’ve thought about it since yesterday, but there wasn’t a chance to practice. There was an awful lot of water down in the city, and I like not drowning.” Cloudhunter shrugged. “Well, that’s why I’m here. One of the reasons it was me over any other bird. I used to teach a class on the pearl’s magic to hatchlings after they made their way under for the first time. I know all the tricks.” He gestured along the bottom of the water, where a ramp had been cut from the rock. A thin layer of slimy green seaweed grew there, with little shells and bits of coral stuck to it. “Put your forelegs on that, and try to feel heavy. The pearl’s magic isn’t like a unicorn’s spell. There’s no calculation and memorization, or anything like that. It’s about feeling your connection to the ocean, or letting go of it. Take back the sky, and walk back out.” Take back the sky. She settled her fins on the mossy ground one at a time, though of course she only had her forelegs, so her tail just trailed through the water behind her. At least she wasn’t alone.  “You can do it, Summer!” Emerald called, circling around her. “I, uh… they’re going to let us out too, right?” “Yes, yes.” Cloudhunter waved a dismissive fin through the water. “Just wait until your friend is up there. I’ll bring you both. She’s not ready to take other creatures yet.” Theo closed her eyes, pressing down with one hoof and pushing herself through the water. Sound echoed against the ceiling above her, as though she were in a strangely acoustic room. She could hear distant waves lapping against the shore, and voices from the other side of the ramp. There were dozens of birds up there, probably a little annoyed that she was stopping traffic. But she couldn’t feel guilty on their account. She took another step forward, trying to do what the officer had said. Focus on her connection to land, what even was that? Until her time in Equestria, she wouldn’t have considered herself connected to anything. Maybe her work with computers, if she had to name something. But what even was land? It’s a little late to doubt their way of doing things now. The ponies might have a strange religion that didn’t make sense to her, but she’d seen that pearl. She had fins right now, when she’d been a shy computer programmer only a few months before. Everything about her life was different. And Sharp was watching her. He was probably getting a pretty good view of her tail from back there. The embarrassment did it. She hurried forward, feeling as though she could walk right up the slope and out into the air. Somehow, she did. Her head crested the water, and she took her first breath of air. Damp wings settled against her sides just as her hindlegs touched down on the ramp behind her, and she emerged onto a slope covered in rubber mats and up onto a bustling peer. There were restaurants nearby radiating the mouthwatering smell of roasted fish. Real fish this time too, not the awful canned stuff Sharp had fed her. Further along, she could hear music coming from a streetside musician, and the shouts of birds buying and selling.  The first thing she did was get out of the way, shaking herself out with every step. It didn’t seem that bad, even if she’d been in the water for over a day. Far from getting wrinkled and pruned, her body seemed like an ocean bird, shedding the water effortlessly around her as she moved. The air was fiercely chilly—no mystery about that, considering how far south they’d come. But her feathers worked just as well wet as they did dry. Maybe better. A few seconds later, she saw a few more creatures break the water. Their steps came with a burst of light, and then there were three creatures standing there. Emerald coughed and spluttered, hacking out mouthfuls of sea water and sticking out her tongue in disgust. Sharp did a little better, though he instantly started shivering. I’m built for this, and they aren’t. I’m actually at home here. Still, they were in full sun, so at least they wouldn’t stay cold for long. “Take it slow, you two,” Cloudhunter said, staying within reach. For good reason—Emerald started slipping back down the ramp, as though her back legs had just stopped working. He caught her, dragging her forward along the rubber mat until she was on flat ground. “Other creatures don’t do as well being changed back and forth, so there’s a bit of recovery time. Just take things nice and slow, and it’ll come back.”  He lowered his voice, tone becoming deadly serious. He looked to her while he said it. “There’s good reason why the Queen usually only takes formal visits under there. Foreigners aren’t built to change back and forth like we are. If they stay in the water for too long, the magic of the pearl won’t work to change them back.” “That sounds… dreadfully serious,” Sharp said, leaning to one side and spitting into the ocean. He didn’t fall over like Emerald had done, but he was flush with earth pony strength. They were sturdier creatures than their flying cousins by far. “How long is it safe for us to visit before needing to worry about that?” Cloudhunter shrugged one shoulder. “I believe the Queen instructed me not to bring you back tonight. If I know her, you won’t be returning for the remainder of your visit. Of course, there are no laws preventing your friend from assisting you… but I doubt she’ll be able. Limit yourself to a day at a time, and you’ll be fine.” “Right.” Sharp glanced over his shoulder again, then met her eyes. His ears flattened with embarrassment, and he looked away. You were looking at my tail! “Right,” he said, almost as though he could hear her thoughts. “We’ll keep that in mind, Lieutenant Cloudhunter. But now… I believe we have a ship to repair. Is the queen’s offer to help us still good?” “Of course,” he said, gesturing down the street. It wasn’t far before the road twisted sharply, leading up a precariously narrow set of switchbacks along the side of the mountain. Mt. Aris, Summer guessed. “Seaquestria is nothing but generous to all her visitors. And if we weren’t, stranding you here without a functioning vessel would be no way to maintain our privacy. There should already be a team of engineers waiting for us. Let’s meet them. Given you can’t fly, we’ll have to hike.” “Unless you’d prefer to wait for me at the top,” Sharp said, glancing between Summer and Emerald. There was a little humor in his eye, just daring her. You know I can’t fly, jerk. But she wasn’t that upset about it. Just more determined to learn. “No, we’ll walk with you,” Summer said, before the others could say anything. She slid in beside him, getting him as wet as possible. Except that she was already drying out, and his fur was still soaked, so she was the one who got wet. He grinned back, apparently realizing the mistake she’d just made, but not trying to pull away. “Up we go, then. Let’s fix that ship.”