The Conversion Bureau: Threshold

by Guardian_Gryphon

Chapter-8

Earth Calendar: 1/20/2102
18:30 GMT [External Time-Frame, Greenwich Mean]
16:09 RTF [Relative Time-Frame, Anomaly Horizon]
Terceira Island, 18 Kliks N-NW of Staging Camp
The Azores

Puller couldn't take his eyes off the shimmer. If he focused on the horizon, it appeared as if the sun had just set. But if he pulled focus, the sun was somewhere above the horizon, invisibly casting its rays through the permanent opacity of the sky.

He glanced momentarily over his shoulder, to see Thornton frantically scrambling back and forth between pieces of equipment, "Hey... is this time difference gonna give us problems on the way out?"

Thornton returned the glance; a singular expression of disdain, panic, and frustration warping his features, "*I* don't *know!* Incase you were curious, no ones ever *been* in this sort of position so far, in all the annals of science. Would you like to know who's going to win the World Series next year too perhaps?"

Puller growled, gritting his teeth harshly "I ask because if we're going to have problems then we need to beat it out of here early to make sure we beat the big bang."

Thornton tapped out a staccato rhythm of commands on his DaTab, "*Out* of the question. I still have one more probes' worth of data..."

His words were cut short as the ground rumbled ominously. Equipment fell from the portable tables, loose stones vibrated on the ground, and the shimmer of the vortex abruptly vanished. All at once, the world was preternaturally still.

Thornton stiffened, "Or... we could leave now. Now actually sounds really GOOD!"
His last word came out like shout as Puller snagged him by his collar and began dragging him down the path at breakneck pace.

It was all Thornton could do to get his legs under him, and somehow miraculously slip the DaTab into a secure pouch on his suit.

Behind the sprinting pair, the anomaly reappeared. No longer an innocent shimmer, the vortex re-manifested as an ominous jet-black tear in the world, with glowing edges that arced blue tendrils of menacing energy.

As the two men practically galloped down the slope, without care for rocks or crevices, Thornton cast a glance backwards and nearly stumbled in shock. He realized the time differential was flipping, from his perspective, and thus events within were traveling faster than events without by their new vantage point.

The anomaly was now an immense void, a surprisingly straight-edged and regular rift that was devouring the mountain methodically, and ruthlessly.

Puller, seeing his companion's fevered glances, looked over his own shoulder, and blanched, "Can we outrun it?!"

Thornton shook his head, "Not the problem!"

"What do you MEAN not the problem? I'd call that a *problem!*"

Thornton stumbled on a loose pile of gravel, but Puller nabbed the collar of his suit, and arrested his downward momentum long enough for the scientist to scramble and right himself.

Thornton wheezed, not used to the physical exertion, "Its like the Coulomb barrier!"

"What?!"

"Once the anomaly overcomes the gravitic differential of our universe, its going to erupt and grow to thousands of times that size. Violently. Instantly."

Puller's stream of invectives was lost to a sudden draft of wind, which began to pick up exponentially as the two pressed on. The Colonel had to bellow to make himself heard, "The HELL did this come from?!"

Thornton leaned into the sixty mile an hour stream of air, and trudged on, "The temporal variance has caused a massive pressure and temperature differential between here and there. Its creating a vacuum effect, and the rift isn't helping!"

Puller stumbled to a stop, and pointed. Far down in the valley below, Thornton could just make out the angles and lines of a standard military VTOL. Puller shouted again, "That's it! We just have to make that before this place blows its stack, with enough time leftover to start the engines. Whatever you do? DO! NOT! STOP!"

The pair plunged on, as the universe came undone in their wake, desperate to outrun the end.

Equestrian Calendar: 2nd Month, 8th Day, Year 1002 PB (Post Banishment)
An Hour After Sunset
RES Ascendant with Royal Expeditionary Force
The Port Village of Pineapple Glen

Flux was just preparing for bed when the commotion began. It started with the sound of heavy hoofbeats on the hallways outside his room. He had opted, like most of the crew, to spend the night in a steady grounded bed with a warm hearth, and the plantation's tavern had offered a good rate.

All hope of a restful night was shattered, however, when the distinctive sound of a metal hoof-guard against oak rang out from his own door, followed by the words, "To stations! All crew are being recalled to the ships!"

Flux tumbled out of bed as a Night Guard burst into his room abruptly, a severe expression on his demeanor, "What goods did you bring with you?"

"Nnn.. Not much... a small trunk..."

The guard abruptly seized the offending item in his muzzle, and took off down the hall on his disquieting bat-like wings, leaving Flux to wonder just what had motivated such an alarming change in plans.

As Flux forced his way through the stream of returning crewmembers and the gaggles of nervous townsfolk, he began to feel a sense of disquiet. He noted, with a rising sense of fear, that the other Unicorns on the crew, and among the villagers, seemed more on edge than anyone else.

When he finally made it up the makeshift mooring mast to the deck of the Ascendant, he was shocked to see Princess Luna, standing on the foredeck, eyes closed, horn ablaze, lips moving as if reciting something in a forgotten and forbidden tongue.

By the time he reached her, the fleet had prepared to cast-off, and the Captain had joined him in awaiting the conclusion of the monarch's trance-like state.

For almost a full minute, the entire crew of the fleet stood at-the-ready, in absolute silence.
Ropes shifted softly, and planking creaked under the weight of crew and provisions, lending an eerie aural backdrop to the moment.

At last, Luna's eyes snapped open, and she spoke, "It has begun."

She turned to the captain without preamble, " Make ready to depart. With all haste."
Next, the lunar Princess locked eyes with Flux, "I shall have need of you within the hour. You shall soon have your answers."

18:35 GMT
ACV-10 UES Yorktown
50 NM West of The Azores

"General Quarters! General Quarters! This is not a drill, all crew to action stations, all passengers to berths. Standby for submersion operations. Flight crews; secure the deck."

The captain replaced the PA microphone, and turned to Admiral Laren, "We're still inside the danger radius according to the latest numbers... but we should be able to make it out by zero hour."

The Yorktown bridge was a hive of activity set to the backdrop of gray floors, low ceilings with recessed lights, and a bevy of screens and holographic interfaces coating nearly every available surface.

The center of the room was dominated by a massive holotank, the counterpoint to which was the large four-person steering, throttle, and flight-ops command quadrant at the front of the room facing an enormous plexiglass bank of windows.

The admiral tapped the central holotank, his fingers creating an echoing thud against the plastic of the surface, "The rest of the ships?"

The navigator piped up, gesturing to icons suspended above the table in mid-air, "The destroyers and frigates got out long before we did, they make good time. Most civilian traffic got the head-start it needed, but there's a foundered container-foil in grid seve..."

The admiral cut him off sharply, "Divert the Saratoga. Evacuate it. Leave the hulk, any corpses, and the provisions, along with any civilian possessions. We don't have time for repairs or shipping out anything but the warm bodies."

"Yes sir."

Laren strode to the forward bank of windows, where Firebrand was busy nervously tapping the sealant around the hardened tactical plexiglass, "Where's your CO? You told me he had a grasp of the situation and was going to be off that rock before it went critical."

The pilot glanced over her shoulder, "Sir... to be honest? I don't know. If I can talk freely?"

The admiral nodded, so Firebrand continued, "He has a habit of... close shaves."

Laren ran a hand through the hair at the back of his head, betraying only a microcosm of the frustration he was feeling within, "Lieutenant... I want to bring him in. I'd like this to be a zero-body count operation... but he chose to stay behind, and I have thousands of crewmembers and civilians on this ship depending on us to be out, and deep, when disaster hits."

Sorden sighed, and fidgeted with her military-cut trademark red hair, "I know. I just... He's always come back before."

The Captain stepped up to join the group, and nodded sagely, "Lets hope his luck holds. I've never known the man to break a good streak yet."

Equestrian Calendar: 2nd Month, 8th Day, Year 1002 PB (Post Banishment)
An Hour and a Half After Sunset
RES Ascendant with Royal Expeditionary Force
Two Miles Offshore of the Equestrian Coast

When Flux arrived in the Captain's cabin, Luna and the Gryphons were already present. The tension was instantly palpable, but it was clear that it stemmed from an external source, and was shared by all the room's occupants.

Luna dipped her head sharply in acknowledgement, "Good. Now that all concerned are here.. I wanted to explain the full nature of what is about to transpire, before I have the captains break the news to the entire fleet's crew."

Flux gulped in anticipation. Now that the moment had come, it was about more than simply proving his hypothesis. The question of their mission had taken on a significance that lent it a life of its own.

Luna inhaled deeply, and launched into the long awaited explanation with her usual clarity and gravity, "Some years ago, my sister became aware of a disquieting shift in our world. Over the course of several months, she finally managed to procure an artifact that allowed her to fully confirm her suppositions, and grasp the full nature of forthcoming event."

Flux was on the verge of interrupting to pose a question, when the captain did it for him, "This.. 'event...' 's what's got all you folks with horns spooked i'nt it?"

Luna nodded, "A peculiar... but apt turn of phrase. The collision has begun, and it is sending ripples through the very vein of magic that underlies the world as we know it."

Flux prodded eagerly unable to help himself, "Collision... of?"

"Worlds."

The gravity of the statement cloaked the room in a blanket of seemingly unbreakable solemn silence. Flux had expected something along the lines of contact with a new race, but the advent of a new world? Such an event was one of the rarest imaginable turning points in the annals of history.

Luna was the first to resume speaking, The nature of our mission, and your reasons for being here, should be eminently clear to you now. I tell you this because, as you," she nodded to Flux, "can no doubt sense on some level; events have begun slightly sooner than we expected. Within a day's time, we will arrive at the place where we expect the barrier between the worlds to appear."

Flux finally found his voice, "Is there any... ah.. any danger to our world?"

The Lunar ruler shook her head, "Rather to theirs. The collision will damage them most grievously, if not destroy them outright, over the span of a relatively short time. In the eyes of history. Part of our mission is to bring a warning, and lend an offer of help, if they will have it."

The Captain raised an eyebrow, "And if they will not?"

Sildinar snorted, "Then that's where we earn our keep."

Luna paused again to allow the gravity of the situation time to sink in. She turned to face the porthole, "Very well.. we have only a short time left, and much of it shall be spent in preparing. So this is your last opportunity. Have you any questions?"

Earth Calendar: 1/20/2102
18:37 GMT
Terceira Island, Staging Camp
The Azores

By the time Puller and Thornton had reached the VTOL, the rift had all but consumed the center of the mountain behind them, splitting it in two; the division a gaping maw into infinity.

Above, storm clouds were gathering in an ominous vortex pattern, goaded on by the increasing pressure differential and the haywire electromagnetic effects of the anomaly.

The VTOL was, to Puller's relief, still vertical and intact. The wind was gusting, according to Thornton's suit instruments, at upwards of one hundred miles an hour, and lightning was striking everywhere the pair could see, several times a second.

The sea roiled in the distance like a cauldron over a fire, molten rock poured from fissures exacerbated by the geologic instability the anomaly was producing, and everywhere debris flew through the air in the clutches of the wind, moving inexorably in the direction of the gaping lovecraftian maw.

It truly did look like the end of the world.

Puller yanked open the side hatch at practically forced Thornton into the co-pilot's seat, "STRAP IN!"
He dashed around the front of the craft, and hurriedly made his own ingress, yanking hard on the door to force it shut in the face of the gruelling wind.

With the noise level vastly decreased, Puller's bellowed words nearly deafened him inside his own helmet, "Keep your lid ON geek-boy. If the cockpit is compromised, you will cook in your seat from the radiation."

Thornton hurriedly removed his hands from the sides of his helmet, "Ah. I hadn't thought of that."

Puller shook his head as he began flicking switches as fast as his gloved hands would allow, "How did someone as dumb as you ever get all those degrees? They don't grade for common sense in chem lab anymore?"

Puller returned his attention to the panel, as an alarm sounded and the AI put up a bevy of warnings.
The colonel grunted, "Override all safeties, go to abbreviated startup sequence. I authenticate, code 1717, Victor Mike."

A two-tone alarm sounded, but the other warnings disappeared, and Puller continued flicking switches, until he finally had the power configuration ready for engine-start. He reached up to the central strut console that divided the main canopy, and pulled down the switch-cover marked "MES."

With his other hand, he began flicking the two large red "APU-STRT" switches. When the whine of the electrical system reached proper pitch, and the panel indicated the system was ready, he jammed his thumb into the master engine start button as hard as he could.

To the relief of the beleaguered men, the engines roared to life on the first try, despite the increased danger of misfire in the abbreviated startup sequence.

Puller grinned maniacally, "Cinch those straps nugget. You will*not* enjoy this."

With that, the colonel rammed all four engine throttles to maximum with no prelude, or warm-up.
The whine of the turbojets went from needing, to ear splitting as the powerplant struggled to keep up with the insane request of the pilot.

Fortunately for the two hopeful escapees, the VTOL's engines were fairly overpowered for its mass, especially empty of cargo. The craft leapt into the wind, juking awkwardly as Puller spotted a particularly large piece of debris hurtling towards them in the wind.

As soon as he had the altitude he needed, he rammed the configuration levers all the way to 'forward flight' and leaned back in his seat as the engines kicked the VTOL ruthlessly into the wind.

Puller muttered as he struggled with the control sticks, trying to keep the vehicle level, "So far so good. Hope ya'll left the lights on for us."

18:37 GMT
ACV-10 UES Yorktown
79 NM West of The Azores

"Bridge, Airstream in CIC. You asked to know if we saw anything that looked like an airborne bird in the NFZ? Well thermal just pulled a reading that looked like a hot-burn engine start."

Firebrand physically cut the ship's captain off, snagging the comm mic off its wall stand and adjacent touchscreen before anyone could stop her, "Where *exactly?*"

"Uhh... Terceira staging ground ma'am. Right where you parked..."

"His evac bird!" Firebrand rammed the microphone back onto its stanchion, and whirled on the Captain and Admiral Laren, "He's up! In that ship it ought to only take him a few minutes to get here...."

The Captain shook his head, and jerked a thumb at the deck, where the final fighters were being pulled below by a service elevator, "We are bottom-side in three minutes. There is no *way* your CO is making deck in that time, and there is no chance we can stay up here to keep the deck dry. We're out there in the open this close? We cook everyone alive even through the armor plating."

Admiral Laren sighed, as Firebrand shot him a look that was at once accusing, and pleading, "I'm sorry. The captain is right. We'll hold until exactly 40 past the hour. Then we're done. I will not kill half the people on this ship for one man's close shave, no matter how much I want to risk it."

18:40 GMT
VTOL 217-Delta
78 NM West of The Azores

As a new alarm sounded amongst the bevy of already tripped warnings in the cockpit, Thornton tensed yet again, "What does THAT one mean?"

Puller, finally at the end of his rope, smashed his fist into the master speaker cut off, "Its the SHUT THE HELL UP AND LET THE PILOT *THINK* alarm. Now CAN IT! Or I will eject you!"

Thornton glanced down at the main panel clock, and visibly paled, "Colonel!?"

"*WHAT?!*"

"Uhm... we're out of time."

Puller glanced first at Thornton, then at the clock, and finally at the rear-view cameras. The anomaly was now glowing so brightly that the lens was completely washed out.

Puller slammed his fist into the panel, "Son of a..."

Before he could finish, the shockwave hit.

The VTOL crumpled like paper in the first of a vengeful giant. Puller and Thornton were yanked free in the cataclysmic release of energy, air, and matter. In his last seconds of consciousness, falling towards the roiling ocean, the Colonel could have sworn he glimpsed first the gaping maw, consuming the Azores in hellfire and cataclysm.

Then the image abruptly shifted, for the tiniest fraction of a moment, to shades of luxuriant green and blue...

Then finally, absolute darkness.

18:40 GMT
ACV-10 UES Yorktown
81 NM West of The Azores

The flash was so bright, that the bridge windows automatically tinted to compensate. The bridge AI appeared as a column of green light in the central holotank and intoned, "Warning! Critical radiation discharge."

Admiral Laren shook his head and sighed, "Alright. That's it."

The Captain nodded, and snagged the PA mic deftly, "Rig ship for dive! All hands brace for sharp inclination." He turned to the command and nav quadrant, replacing the device as he did so, "Helmsman, make your depth four hundred feet, down angle on the bow planes at maximum safe ratios. Fill all ballast tanks to maximum, pumps to emergency-max."

All over the ship, small blue lights recessed into the walls began to insistently blink, as the bridge AI intoned over the open PA frequency, "Diving. Brace for Inclination. Diving. Brace for inclination."

The helmsman flipped the ship's wheel down into the console, triggering the release of several levers, and a secondary plane control disc from the console in front of him. He spun the latter as fast as the operational limits would safely allow.

At the back of the bridge, officers scrambled to ensure that all hatches were secure, and any appropriate blast shields were closed.

The Yorktown's forward deck suddenly plunged beneath the sea, and the momentum imparted by her engines swiftly immersed the ship, treating those on the bridge to a starburst of bubbles as the water flew past at breakneck speed.

When the shockwave arrived, the ship was already so far down that there was little indication she had ever existed in the world above.

18:45 GMT
38.726300, -27.211081
The Azores

At 18:45, Greenwich Mean time, the Quantum Situation Awareness facility logged an event of such magnitude that the computing AI assigned to the task were unable to find a proper classification for it.

Even as the Earthgov Council prepared to convene an emergency session, the physics driving the most cataclysmic event in the history of the planet since the last extinction cycle, were already in motion.

The rift, now engorged on mass gathered from Terceira, split the very fabric of space, time, and existence; releasing so much excess energy that it caused a flash of light ten times more luminous than the brightness of the sun as seen from orbit.

Satellites on nearby trajectories were instantly fried down to the circuit boards from the massive influx of Cherenkov radiation, and the ocean within a forty mile radius of the vortex flash-boiled under the intensity of the particle bombardment.

A moment later, all the matter within an eighty mile radius of coordinates 38.726300, by -27.211081, was simply displaced from existence, breaking down into pure energy that dispersed into the aether between universes, like so much cosmic dust scattered by a breeze.

Satellites viewing the event from an oblique angle were momentarily blinded as the levels of every known portion of the electromagnetic spectrum skyrocketed beyond the capacity for their instruments to record.

The airburst from the event shattered windows on ships as far away as two hundred and thirty miles.

The EMP discharge created a visible aurora for most of the Atlantic, and darkened New York, London, and Johannesburg for nearly twelve seconds.

Earthquakes approaching magnitude 2.1 were felt on every major fault-line bordering the Atlantic ocean.

In the center of the ocean, time and space warped well beyond their usual tolerances. The two universes collided in spectacular fashion, and the un-resolvable difference in the fundamental structuring of their quantum base-patterns instantly caused a Threshold event.

A barrier sprang into existence, stretching the entire diameter of the eighty mile danger zone, and nearly into orbit vertically. By the time the nearest satellites managed to regain telemetry, The Azores were consigned to the history books. Not so much as a solitary pebble remained.

In place of the island chain, and surrounding ocean, stood a vast and enigmatic field of interplaying light and shimmers that would frequently be described by eyewitnesses as a 'bubble.'

The end of the world had officially begun.

Comments

[Guardian_Gryphon]

Surprise chapter.
I didn't expect to do this today, but I ended up deciding to once I finished a film paper.
I just didn't feel like doing further 'real work.'

Means the next couple chapters, being as important as they are, and given the fact that my schedule won't be so clear for very long, will likely take a bit longer. If not, so much the better, but don't make any bets on the publish dates.

Enjoy the end of the world.

Keep Calm.
Watch Ponies.

[Westphalian_Musketeer]

I have the feeling that invective is your favorite word.

At last, Luna's eyes snapped open, and she spoke, "It has begun."

- What has, m'lady?
- An end, dear Reginald, an end.

Luna was the first to resume speaking, The nature of our mission, and your reasons for being here, should be eminently clear to you now. I tell you this because, as you," she nodded to Flux,

- Missing the opening quotations there friend.

The VTOL crumpled like paper in the first of a vengeful giant.

- the fist of a vengeful giant.

Alright good point to cut off before taking time for the next chapters. Best of luck in school Gryph!

[MetBoy]

Hmmm. My story idea... might require a large raft.