SHORT STORIES OF

TIME TRAVELAND

DIMENSIONAL JOURNEYS

DOUGLAS W. DAECH

Published By Douglas W. Daech at SmashwordsCopyright 2012 Douglas Daech

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***INDEX

***The Catcher

The Romeo ProjectThe One That Got Away

Stealing TimeBloodline

***The Catcher

I had been a dog catcher for longer then I liked to admit. Still, there was something good to be said about keeping a job for a long time. For over twenty-five years I had supported my family. We had a small home on Chestnut Street where we raised our son, Carl. He was in his teens when I started getting second thoughts about my job, but I was in my late forties, and figured it was too late for a change. I kept my restlessness to myself and ignored my desire for change. The job had been good to me and we were doing pretty well.

I had a small office where I wrote reports at the Michigan Humane Society on Woodward Avenue in downtown Detroit. It was a campus of brick buildings with kennels, yards and offices, but I was on the street most of my time. My office on wheels was a white Ford pick-up with three animal pens in the back bed. It was nothing fancy but it got the job done. Part of me though I should be working in the office full time, but I really wasnt the desk job type of person. Twenty five years was a long time to be chasing animals and I was getting a little bored with it, too old as well. On many mornings I felt the aches and pains from the activities of the previous day. It never used to get the best of me like that. I used to always be on top of my game.

The morning of June 12th started like any other day. I punched in and got my report on strays and nuisance dogs. I'd have to keep an eye out for them. There were always a few calls for neglected animals to check out too. They usually have to be taken care of first, but on that

morning I had a call that took precedence over all the others. Something had happened that required me to meet the police on scene. My guess was that there had been a dog bite, or there was a dangerous animal terrorizing a mail carrier. Usually it was a matter of catching the animal and controlling it long enough to get it into one of the pens on the truck. I carried a variety of tools to help with that. A control rod with a lasso, nets and a muzzle were the main elements in my arsenal, but I did have a tranquilizer gun too. With a little luck, the lasso stick usually did the trick.

It was a little early for excitement, I had hardly sipped my morning coffee, but it was something different for a change. I jumped into the truck and headed to the scene. It was in an area that frequently had stray problems. I immediately saw the commotion in the carport of the St. Cyril Church. The old church had a double wide drive-thru carport for unloading at the entrance of the convent. Back in the days when this neighborhood was respectable, the building housed a number of nuns that worked in the Catholic school that was run by the church. Today, crime-scene ribbon roped off the carport and two police cruisers blocked the driveway. An ambulance blocked the street near the scene along with several other city vehicles. I added mine to the collection.

The amber morning sun shone on the yellowing brick building and made it look more ancient. Flaked teal paint from the seventies trimmed the building and contrasted it from the shining police cruisers with their flashing lights and chrome. The scene drew a small crowd of local residents from a line of houses that stood across the street. It was a poor, working-class neighborhood with one out of every ten homes vacant. Not long ago an auto plant, malls, and car dealerships supported the community but over the years things have changed. The plants have closed and most of the big employers have moved.

An officer managing the scene took my name and checked my ID. He gave me slip-on booties and rubber gloves so I didnt contaminate any evidence. Whatever happened must have been serious enough to demand the standard crime scene procedure. In the far corner of the carport a group of officers gathered. Lying on the ground, just inside a bed of spring flowers, a body was being inspected by the coroner. When he looked up and saw me, he motioned for me to approach. One of the men in the group introduced himself.

Hi, Im Lieutenant Andrews.Sam Baker I said.The coroner had me give you a call because he thinks we have an animal attack here. He

guided me through the scene and to the body. It looks like the attack started about six or seven feet from the body, He said. There was an area on the wall with bloodstains, and the roadbed of the drive-thru carport held a small puddle of blood that smeared in the direction of the body.

As I approached the coroner, he looked up from his kneeling position in front of the body. Assistant city coroner Dave Adams, he said interrupting his work. He was documenting the position and condition of the body. I could see it was on its back and had what appeared to be a fatal neck wound. The full front of the shirt was in bloody tatters and the flesh of the shoulder and upper arm on the left was terribly torn.

Hi, Im Sam Baker, from Animal Control. I had seen many animal attacks, but this was a bit more gruesome then I had ever seen. It looked more like a shotgun wound. What makes you think this was an animal attack?

He motioned for me to join him in the flowerbed and patiently started explaining. When you examine the edges of the wounds you can see they are serrated and show teeth marks. With

a probe he pointed out the tell-tail serrated details indicating an animal attack. Also, the bone shows some scratches in the periosteum. Thats the skin around the bone. He added.

I agreed and commented it was more vicious then I had ever seen. Its not a normal attack. He confessed. The animal did more than just attack, it appears

to have fed. With the probe, he pointed out tendons attached to the scapula and humorous that had the muscle torn and missing. It looks like several ounces, maybe even a pound of meat has been removed.

Realizing the horror of the situation for the first time, I looked at the face of the victim. It was a middle-aged man who was well groomed and apparently healthy. He was not overly slight or out of shape. The animal that took this man down must have been stronger and more agile then a stray pet. The coroner was way ahead of me.

I measured the spacing of the teeth, jaw dimensions and bite depth. I have no idea what actually attacked this guy but it was savage. Ill send the data to your office. He looked at me with seriousness in his eyes. Most predators attack the weak and sick, but this guy was healthy. He lifted the arm of the victim. There were only a few scratches on the top of the hand. The attack was fast too, there are hardly any defensive wounds.

I pointed to the blood trail on the asphalt. It must have been strong too. That is a drag mark. The body was already down, and the animal dragged it six feet to the flower bed before feeding.

The coroner added, The victim weighs about 180 pounds. It was no poodle that did this.We exchanged cards and concluded that we would keep in touch if anything further came to

light. I had no official position in the investigation but because it was an animal attack, I needed to be aware of it. The call to me was only a courtesy. When I got back to my truck I took a moment to gather my thoughts and jot some notes into my field book. There was still a crowd of onlookers across the street. Small children ran circles around their parents, who were trying to keep them under control with little success. A child would surely be simple prey for whatever animal killed that man.

There were a few other people scattered up and down the street, their morning routine hardly interrupted by the commotion at the church. A trio of leggy girls walked by, gossiping about whatever teens talk about. Two young men huddled near the side of a vacant house looking suspiciously like drug dealers. A homeless man checked out a trash barrel at the street corner looking for anything of value. A man in a light blue jumpsuit uniform walked in the distance, probably heading to work. Through the open window, I watched and listened to the neighborhood for a few minutes. There was no sign of stray pets or pets on a leash, and no sound of dogs barking at all.

I started a spiral route away from the scene, turning left at every corner, looking for any sign of a dog capable of killing. The first couple of turns took me around the church property and I passed the police activity again. They had moved the body into a truck and the commotion was starting to clear out. The onlookers were disbursing back into the routines of their regular day. Another block up, I turned left again going deeper into the neighborhood. There were more vacant houses, and a couple of empty lots. One more street up took me into more of the same. Still, I saw no stray animals or pet life of any kind, not even a dog chained-up in a yard. Several of the old homes had open garages and many of the vacant homes had missing doors or windows. There were many places for an animal to hide. To my right was a field bordered in the distance by a railroad track on a small mound. An animal could easily be beyond that and out of sight. There was no way to do a thorough search, the animal could be anywhere.

My attention was broken by a call on the radio. Baker, this is dispatch. We have a dangerous dog call at Southfield Park. Are you still in that area? It was Betty Braddock from the office. She had been working at animal control for almost as long as I have and she knew I was still in the area because all of the trucks had a GPS unit on them and she tracked us like she paid for the gas herself. I'd been told a hundred times that the trucks were not for personal use. Shes a slim woman, pretty, but kind of a control freak.

This is Baker. I'm just around the corner and will be there in a few seconds. I answered, wondering if it could be the killer dog. The park was only a few blocks ahead, where the railroad track crossed over Southfield Road. It had a few baseball diamonds and a playground frequented by many children. When I was a kid I played there. As I approached I saw a few kids trapped on the top of the slide with a large German Sheppard on the ground below. It was barking loudly and circling the structure. I had seen this dog before, and it was trouble.

I pulled into the parking lot and quickly jumped from the cab. I grabbed my lasso stick from behind the seat and headed toward the animal. As my feet left the parking lot and I entered the fenced playground the dog stopped its assault on the slide and looked straight at me. Its dark eyes flashed a look of recognition. For a moment I was worried that the six foot pole with a lasso on one end might not be enough to protect myself. If this was the killer dog it would be a struggle to control. By the time I took another running step the dog had bound off in the other direction. Two strides later it was over the fence and up the mound of the railroad track. Before crossing the tussle, it glanced back and barked a laugh at me knowing the head start made it useless for me to pursue.

It was not the first time I had come across Ranger. I called the dog Ranger because I had been seeing it in all parts of my work area. Here it was again. And again, it had out-maneuvered me. The first time I was called on it was a few weeks ago. It was terrorizing a fenced in terrier not far from St Cyril Church. Ranger had excited the terrier to the point that several people had called because of the barking. When I arrived, both dogs were running the length of the fence line, back and forth, shouting barks at each other like it was the end of the world. It was a simple catch. I used the lasso stick and took the dog into custody. Instantly he calmed and walked obediently with me to the truck while the terrier continued to roll on with incessant barking. The second I took one hand off the lasso stick to open the pen door at the back of the truck, Ranger unexpectedly jerked away and out of the collar. It was waiting for me to give it the opportunity to escape, calculating when my attention would be diverted and taking that moment to make its move. It sprinted off like it was at the races.

Miles from there, but only a day or so later, I saw Ranger behind the old Montgomery Wards Department Store. The store had been closed for years and was due for demolition. The smoky glass of the building reflected the image of the parking lot and gave away my stalking of the animal. Without even a look back, Ranger sprang into a full run in the other direction. This was a smart animal and it was looking out for me.

Ranger showed some aggression towards the children at the park. That type of behavior was new. A bad dog is a whole different animal than a stray. A bad dog can cause injury. If Ranger was going bad, it could have been the attacker at the church. It seemed unlikely though, a dog wouldn't feed on its victim. In any case, Ranger had to come off the streets.

The forensics report had been delivered and it suggested that the bite could have been made by a large dog but the coroner was unable to specify which breed. In fact, the report fell short of saying for certain that the attacker was a canine. Something in my gut told me that it was not a

dog. The fact that the animal fed on the victim just didnt seem right. Food was too easily available on the streets of the city to turn a pet into a wild dog. It just didnt make sense to me.

Days passed before anything out of the ordinary happened. There had been no further sightings of Ranger and the streets had been unusually clear of other strays. It was a little past mid-day when I got the call to report to the scene of another attack. It was only a mile or so from the church where the first attack took place. I was directed to a local public school, called Taylor Parks Elementary. I pulled into the lot and saw the familiar collection of police cruisers and city vehicles. The coroners wagon was there too. An officer directed me towards a stand of woods behind the school. Well-beaten paths, created by bike tire ruts and a million footfalls, trailed through the woods. About a quarter mile into the woods I could hear the commotion of the scene and saw the woods thinning. The trees backed up to the railroad tracks, with only a few feet of tall grass between the rail mound and the woods. Crime scene tape sectioned off an area that was guarded by a few police. The bloody body lied on the side of the rocky foundation of the railroad. Two young boys on bikes watched the activity from a distance, undaunted by the carnage. Down the track a ways, another man watched the scene. He was wearing a light blue uniform of some sort. I recalled seeing him at the last attack. I mentioned that to one of the officers who quickly headed down the tracks to check out the stranger.

It looks like the same type of animal attack, Dave Adams said. He had completed his scene investigation and was ready to leave. The body was bagged and on a body board. Two in-turns had the job of carrying the poor soul through the woods. It was the same type of injury to the neck and shoulder, with signs of feeding too. There were only minor signs of a struggle. The attack was fast and clean.

Was the area inspected for paw prints? I asked.The police report should give you all that. CSI were out here a while but its pretty clear

that its an animal attack so they didnt collect a lot of evidence. I know they took some photographs. Id suggest you look around yourself.

With that, the scene investigation was left in my hands as everyone left. Before the local boys could get under the tape I shot them a look and stooped under it myself. They watched patiently, waiting for the coast to be clear, before they would do their own investigation. The loose rocks that formed the base of the railroad didnt offer any clear prints of paws, tracks or shoes. Random litter was scattered about the railway, but nothing looked suspicious. I entered the tall grass between the tracks and the woods and started a search pattern for anything that would shed light on the attack. I came across an old bike frame, several glass bottles, an empty tattered backpack and a car tire.

The police officer was a short walk down the tracks so I started walking in that direction. It was coincidental that I would see a man in a blue jumpsuit at both scenes. I started down the tracks to meet the officer, What was his story? I asked.

I didnt get a chance to ask. The officer said. He took off into the woods and I lost him. Ill note it in the report, but the coroner says its an animal that killed the guy. With obvious lack of interest he skittered down the rail mound and followed a path back toward the parking lot.

I continued my investigation. Stepping along the tracks from tie to tie, I kept an eye to the left and right for anything in the grass. I thought less of an animal attacking me than I did the search for clues. I had only gotten about fifty paces from the death scene when I spotted a bloody piece of fabric in the grass. I slid down the railway mound and approached it carefully. It was a torn sleeve cuff. Some of the grass along this stretch showed some discoloration, with

blood dried on its tall lengths. There was hardly a path, and it could have been my imagination, but I followed the break in the grass and entered the thicket of woods.

The ground was grown thick with weeds, brush and saplings. The taller trees of the woods shaded and darkened my way. I heard the rustle of brush and the thought of my own safety entered my mind for the first time. Quickly turning to my right I saw a squirrel scurry up a tree. I knew rabbits, squirrels, raccoons and other such critters were all around and it calmed my nerves. Still, something was out here killing people.

What I thought was a path quickly became too overgrown to travel and I reversed my direction back towards the open grass, but a movement to my left caught my attention. The brush moved where an animal retreated from my intrusion. There, I saw the air swarmed with insects. Large flies circled in a beam of light that cut through the shady woods. The grass and weeds of the ground cover looked stained with dried blood and a carcass of a large fury animal lay half-hidden in the brush. I approached with caution. I didnt want to surprise an animal when it was feeding, much less a killer.

The carcass was a German Sheppard. It was Ranger. He had many wounds around his face and neck, bites in the flesh reached to the bone. From the decay and infestation of insects, I could tell the corpse was not fresh. It was impossible to say what could have killed the large dog but my guess was the same killer animal that had struck the humans. As I inspected the carcass closer, I saw a strap of some kind protruding out from under the animal. Lifting the dead weight of the dog, I pulled it free. It was a collar of some type, but I didnt recall Ranger wearing a collar. It must have been torn off the other animal. There was a small plastic box built into its length that held a blinking LED indicator lamp, but besides that, it seemed typical. The metal clasp was bent and the clip didnt hold. Apparently it was torn off during the fight between the animals. I took the collar and exited the woods. When I got back to the tracks, the kids were already within the crime scene tape and kicking at the bloody rocks of the mound.

I threw the collar over the dashboard and onto the front window deck, started my truck and kicked on the A/C. I grabbed my report book to note the latest details of my day. Betty, Queen of the office, required that every minute be logged and accounted for. As the office manager, she was a stickler for rules. I understood there was a reason for the paperwork; it was a necessary part of the job. My log-book was a jumble of comments, locations, odometer readings and hours. I knew exactly what it meant, but she would be totally lost trying to decode the pages. Something evil inside me enjoyed that fact. I wrote about finding Ranger and the collar down the rail from the death scene. I commented on seeing the man in the blue jumpsuit again, and about the curious kids. The details of the death were fresh in my mind and I wrote down all that I recalled.

The Beatles played on the radios oldies channel as I drove out of the school parking lot and back into the streets of the city. The reception was poor and a constant static crackled in the background of John Lennons vocals. The static was annoying.

There was still an hour or so of my shift yet to work but by the time I got back to the office and filed my paperwork it would be time to punch out. I thought about the collar as I drove, considered Ranger and his last moments in the battle for his life. Who was the victim on the tracks and what he was doing in the woods behind the school? I mulled over the question of who the man in the blue jumpsuit might be. As my mind meandered through the events of the day, I absentmindedly plucked the collar from the dashboard. Magically, the static cleared from classic Beatle melody. Experimenting, I positioned it closer to the dashboard and the static returned. The collar was the cause of the interference. I tossed it to the floor on the far side of the cab, far

from the radio and spent the rest of the drive listening to fab-four, static free, and wondering about the collar.

The next morning I met the man in the blue jumpsuit. He was waiting for me at the office when I arrived at work. The breast of his jumpsuit held an embroidered patch indicating he worked at the Detroit Zoo.

Hi, Im Smith, he introduced. Ive been tracking a collar that was stolen from my office at the zoo. Its got a homing signal built into it and its led me to you. Smith was tall man who appeared to be in his late twenties. His dark brown hair was cut short and barely touched his collar, and a well kept goatee gave him a friendly and presentable look. His smile flashed perfect teeth.

I introduced myself and invited him to have a seat near my desk. That collar is part of an ongoing investigation, I explained. I cant let it go until the case is complete.

He leaned closer to me. Listen, I could be in big trouble if it gets out that I lost that collar. Its kind of experimental, with the tracking chip and all. He kept his voice low. I saw Betty looking over her desk at us, hating that she couldnt hear our quiet conversation. She pulled her straight black hair back behind her ear and strained to listen. Can you keep it kind of hush-hush, and maybe I can get it back in a day or two? Smith asked.

The collar was only tied to the human killings distantly, but I didnt want to give it up yet. I had a feeling there was more to the story than I knew. Sure, give me your number and Ill call you as soon as were done, I assured him.

Ill come by every couple of days and check on it. I prefer that to you calling my office. He explained. Where is the collar now, is it safe? He asked.

Its safe. Its in the evidence locker, I lied.Great! Its my neck if I dont get it back. He stood, thinking the conversation was over.Were you tracking it yesterday along the railroad tracks? I asked.He looked at me curiously. Is that where you found it? Was it you I saw out there? I asked, thinking I knew the answer.I havent been by any tracks. He answered.I asked, Were you tracking it a few days ago near Saint Cyrils Church? He looked up surprised. No, I started tracking it today. I didnt believe him, and kept my

thoughts to myself.I thought our paths might have crossed before. I said. But I guess I was wrong. Come

by in a few days and if the collar has nothing to do with the case, you can have it back. Its really great to have met you. He said. His smile looked honest and genuine, but I still

felt he was somehow involved. We shook hands and the mysterious Mr. Smith walked out.With raised eyebrows and a condescending voice Betty questioned. Whats with the zoo

keeper? Do you think that wild dog killing people is really a lion or something?The theory had potential. I had not considered that the killer animal could have been a zoo

escapee, but I wouldnt let her know that. Its only one possibility Im looking into, Betty. I answered. But it doesnt look like its going to pan out. All the facts are leading to an attack by rats. She shifted in her seat. Betty had a frightful fear of rats, and I smiled as I left the office.

I pulled out of the Office lot onto Woodward and headed north. The zoo was only a short drive away, at the intersection with twelve mile road. Thoughts raced through my mind as I took the short drive. Could the killer animal have come from the zoo? Why hasnt anyone reported seeing a wild animal or reported one being missing? It was most likely a dead end, but Id follow it up. It would give me a chance to check out this Smith character too.

A limestone wall topped with three feet of spiked wrought iron fencing surrounded the zoo. Inside that, a small railway for guests circled the perimeter, backing many of the exhibits. The Detroit Zoo was one of the first zoos to discard cages and build free roaming environments for the animals. Wide moats and ravines separated the animals from the visitors. It is common now, but at one time, it was a revolutionary idea that put the Detroit Zoo on the map.

I walked up to the main offices and introduced myself. I was passed from the public relations office to the personnel office and finally to the manager of the carnivores exhibit. After two hours, I was on my way out of the same gate I had entered earlier. There had been no animal escapes from the zoo. They were not even happy that I considered it a possibility and stressed that there had never been an animal escape from their zoo. The manager of personnel reported that there is only one person named Smith working at the zoo and it was a food service attendant named Mary Smith.

I spent a while with the manager of the carnivore exhibits who explained that most man-eaters really dont eat men. He explained that predators would only attack man as a last resort. They would most likely claim a territory of their own and keep a familiar diet rather than attack humans. He again explained that no animals had ever escaped from his zoo. This seemed to be a serious accusation and I had hit a sore spot suggesting it. He said that I should consider the possibility the predator might have been a personal pet that had gone bad. Many people owned big cats and really didnt know how to handle them. That would be easy enough to check because there was a register of privately owned wild animal and big cat owners. The possibility that the killer was an escaped animal was still open.

The theory that an animal would claim a territory drove me back to the schoolyard. The woods behind the school were riddled with paths and trails. It would be a natural place for an animal to claim as its own hunting ground. The collar with the blinking light was on the seat next to me. How did it and the man in the blue jumpsuit fit into the puzzle? Things were not adding up, they didnt fit into the equation of a big pet cat escaping into the city. Perhaps they had nothing to do with the attacks and it was all a coincidence.

I parked, walked to the woods and followed the same path as I had the day before to the site at the railroad track. But, thinking of my safety first, I grabbed my air rifle and a pocket- case of darts. Each of the three darts were preloaded with enough sedative to take down a bear, though I doubted there was a bear anywhere around. It was a bright cloudless day but the tall oak and pine trees created the look of a dark forest. The paths, well worn with bike tire marks, offered a thousand miles of adventure for the local kids who played in the woods. Occasionally the remains of a tree fort or a hideout showed itself with spray-painted graffiti and rusty nails. In the distance kids shouted, acting out mock wars. The playtime armies were swinging swords of sticks and shooting Dollar Store cap guns. They would be no match for whatever was out here.

A rustle in the brush startled me and I turned quickly, just in time to jump aside as a fearless pudgy child on a silver bike raced past. The fact that I carried a rifle didnt slow him. In a flurry of leaves and dust he was gone, hidden by the trees and tall brush aside the zigzagging trail. I imagined the kids knew the trails well, which shortcuts led to the tracks or back to the school, and which ones took them deeper into the woods. That would be an advantage to them if they came up on anything dangerous.

A few minutes later, it was quiet again and the shady woods were getting a little spooky. Dark overgrown bushes offered many safe hiding places for even large animals. The bright beams of sunlight that cut through the leaf cover was the only grace to this place. It offered enough light to see the surroundings. I heard a noise to my right, but didnt see anything. It was

a snap of a twig, then a low growl. I readied my gun at waist level, even though I didnt see a target. The eerie silence put my senses on edge. I looked into the dark woods and imagined all nature of beasts, but none of them materialized. Just as I was about to relax I saw a movement beside a tree. It was brown, about four feet tall and shifted into the dark underbrush, than disappeared. I steadied my gun and stepped in that direction. When my first step off the path snapped the ground litter of the woods, it attacked. I saw an animal upright on two legs, brown skinned with no fur. It exploded from the darkness. With an airy hiss it screeched and lunged at me, its wide mouthed lined with pointed teeth. I was too shocked to move. I froze and didnt even pull the trigger.

A bright blue flash came from over my shoulder and a beam of light shot through the darkness. A sound like a crack of lightning echoed through the woods. The light beam struck a tree limb, severing it from its trunk. As it fell to the ground, it struck the lunging animal knocking it onto its side. It righted itself and using four legs, shot into the darkened brush of the woods. I had a good look at it then, and it was like nothing I had ever seen.

That was close. The voice startled me. I spun around, gun aimed ready to shoot. My heart was racing. I dont know what stopped me from pulling the trigger. Hold on! Hold on! Its me, the guy that just saved your life. It was Smith, in the blue jumpsuit. I was still in shock. I wasnt sure what had just happened. It would have killed you. I had to do something, he said.

You didnt kill it. Why didnt you shoot it? I asked. My mind was starting to clear as the adrenalin started to fade from my nerves.

I tried. Im not the best shot. You're lucky I didnt hit you.I remembered the blue flash of light. What did you shoot, some kind of ray gun? It was

true he had saved my life, but I needed answers. Are you following me? I took a step toward him, confronting him with questions. I checked at the zoo. You don't work there. Who are you, really? What was that animal?

He put his hand into his pocket hiding the small weapon he had used to shoot the branch off the tree. Okay, you are right I owe you an explanation.

The truth this time, I said. Don't tell me you work for the zoo.He looked at me and smiled. I promise. Then he added, Walk with me as I track that

thing. He walked into the brush and inspected the ground clutter of the woods. It's taken a liking to this wooded area. He said. There's good hiding and lots of easy prey. He wiped some of the tall grass with his hand and lifted it to his face and sniffed. Smell that? Its the oils from its body. He held his hands up to my face.

I sniffed lightly. The heavy scent of a dead animal mingled in the air from his hand. Okay, I said. What is it?

Well, I don't really know. We haven't seen anything like it before and theres no fossil evidence of anything quite like it either. I thought I'd get a bonus bringing in a new species, but it got away from me.

New species, I questioned. A new species in the city would have been spotted long before now. It can't be from around here. Where did you catch it?

Smith didn't answer right away. He was following tracks in the brush and smelling the grass. Many times he got on his hands and knees to smell the ground. True. He finally answered.

Where did you get it? Where were you taking it? Who do you work for? I hammered him with questions as he tracked.

I do work for the zoo. I'm in the acquisitions department. I collect rare animals for them. His voice was quieter now. The collar you found was on the animal, but it got torn off. I've been tracking it to recapture the thing. That's how I found you the other day, and that's how I tracked you here today. It was in your truck.

I still wasn't sure if I believed his story. The zoo said they didn't know who you were.We were cutting across a bike path, and our foot falls were silent for a moment. He held up

his hand for quiet, and we stopped. From the brush, not too far away, there was the rustle of twigs and branches. He lifted a leaf above his head and dropped it. It fell, and was blown by a slight breeze in the direction of the sound.

You stay here. I'm going to go a few yards down the path and wait. Don't move. This time I'll hit it. He said as he quietly walked away.

A moment later it dawned on me that he was using me as bait. He was waiting for the creature to attack, and he'd try to shoot it. Before I could argue the plan there was a movement in the bushes. It was close. The tall grass and brush shifted only a few yards from me. My eyes cut through the shady woods looking between the bushes and scrub, looking for the killer that was about to attack. A few feet away, out of the darkened underbrush it appeared, staking on four legs, head held low, and eyes locked on me. It had an oily brown snakelike skin, almost reptilian. When its joints bent, large scales separated, exposing a deep red skin that was damp with pungent oils. Its long neck held a head that consisted mostly of teeth. The mouth was wide open, ready for a kill. I shuttered and took a step back, and that was its cue. I started to lift my rifle, but again I was too slow.

I was struck and knocked to the ground. The animal was upon me but it was motionless. Its dead weight must have been 300 pounds. I got it! Smith yelled joyfully.

He rolled it off me and into the open path. I knelt beside it, in awe of the animal. It was some kind of little dinosaur. Is it dead? I asked.

Just knocked out, I used a level five stun setting. It should be out for the rest of the trip. I won't trust a level two on this big bugger again. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the collar. I took this from your truck. You should lock your doors. He said with a smile. His attitude was quite happy now that the animal was under control. He wrapped the collar around the neck of the animal and locked it on.

Youve got to tell me where you caught this thing, I begged for an answer. Where are you taking it?

He looked me straight in the eye. You won't believe it. He said.Try me. I figured he wasn't from around here.I'm taking it to the Detroit Zoo, just like I said. I work there.They said they didn't know you.I'm on a special team that retrieves animals that have gone extinct. He waited for a

response, but it took a second for what he said to sink in. How? was all I could say. I was afraid that I already knew the answer. There was only

one answer.I travel in time. He stood, and helped me to my feet. I'm sorry this thing got away from

me. There was nothing I could do once it shed the collar.I must have looked as perplexed as I felt. Two people died, was all I could say.I should not have stopped here at all, except I wanted to see someone. I'll probably get

fired when I get back. I shouldnt have broken the rules and stopped. My supervisor is going to kill me.

He pulled the ray gun thing from his pocket, not afraid if I saw it now. It didn't look much different than a large cell phone. Can you take a few steps back? He asked. I've got to get back on the road.

I backed away. Thanks for your help. He said, starting to punch some keys on the hand held device.My mind was reeling with the reality of what he explained to me. Good bye, I guess, I

said, still dazed and confused.Then I asked. Did you get to see who you stopped for?Surprised by the question, Smith looked up. Yea, hes a legend where I come from.Who is he? I asked.A faint orange glow was emitting from all around him and the animal. The air was filled

with the sound of static. You. He said as he quickly faded away.I stood there looking at the spot where he vanished, not really sure what to do. Was there

anything I should do? I was only a dog catcher. Who could I report this to? How could I become a legend?

Walking slowly, with my mind reeling from the words he spoke, I followed the path through the woods back to the school and my truck. I headed to the office to write the days report which would obviously be very short. Betty would never know the events of the day. The conversation with the time traveler called Smith replayed in my mind and I tried to process what he said. How could a simple dog catcher become a legend? I wondered what the future held for me. One thing was for certain. It was not too late for me to redirect my life. Perhaps I was destined to do something different, and I slowly began to realize that now I didnt fear that change.

***The Romeo Project

When the darkness lifted, Frank Giles found himself in a medical emergency. A paramedic was taking his blood pressure. He could feel the tightness around his upper arm. Another paramedic was flashing a light into his eye. He saw a line of onlookers. Some of the crowd held video cameras, others were writing notes. All of them were shouting questions that he couldn't quite understand. He tried to speak, but his body wouldn't respond. The paramedic switched off the light and let his eyelid fall shut. The world was black again.

Black! Frank remembered the darkness. It was sucking at him. Everything was being pulled into the darkness. He recalled the incredible force of the wind rushing past him toward the dark. He held onto his car for dear life, pushed against its side by the onrush of cold air. Just before a street lamp fell, Frank looked over the car and across the street to the physics lab, from which he had just come. He saw the sod of the lawn, in front of the lab, pull up from the sidewalks edge and roll back toward the building. Its tiny white roots up, exposed, reaching for the blackness spreading from the windows of his third floor laboratory. Something has gone wrong in the lab, he realized. Frank felt his car sliding away from the curb, sideways across the street. The tires were skidding, leaving wide marks on the pavement.

"Professor Giles, can you hear me?""He's coming out of it. Another voice said.When Frank Giles opened his eyes, he saw that he was in a hospital. "I can hear you,"Frank answered in a raspy voice. "What happened? Who are you? Where am I?" he asked.The elder of the attendants motioned for the other to go outside. "Get Mr. Webber," he said,

"and bring some water." A moment later, a man in a sharp black suit walked in. He wore a visitor's pass on his breast pocket. The name on it read, Max Webber.

"You're in a hospital." answered the attendant who woke him. "I'm your doctor. You're in Fields County Hospital. My name is Casey Brumins."

The other attendant entered with a glass of water. Frank took it and drank quickly as Brumins cautioned him. "Drink slowly, Dr. Giles. Let the water sit in the mouth a second before swallowing."

It was too late. Frank was already feeling nauseous. "How long have I been out?""Almost two weeks." the doctor answered. "What happened in the lab?" Frank asked, remembering the evening when the accident

occurred.The man in the suit spoke, "We've got no details on what actually happened. We were

hoping you could answer some questions. Do you feel up to it?""Who are you?" Frank asked with an exhausted voice."Max Webber, I'm investigating the accident."Carl Smitz was in the lab, we were working together. He can tell you what happened.

Besides, we recorded everything. The controls, the coils, the lab, the vacuum point, everything is recorded."

"There's a problem with that, doctor." Webber cut in. "It's gone.""Has someone taken the recordings?" Frank asked."No, Dr. Giles." Webber answered. "The physics lab is gone."Webber read Franks expression of puzzlement and continued. "As nearly as we can tell, it

vaporized in some kind of limited nuclear explosion. Virtually nothing was left but traces of radiation."

"It wasn't an explosion." Frank corrected. "It was an implosion."Two weeks passed before Frank felt normal again. Most of his joints were free of their

stiffness and his broken ankle was healing properly. He had broken it as he and his car were sliding across the street. Frank fell into an open sewer manhole as he was drawn across the street. He caught his leg on a ladder rung. The ankle was a small price to pay for saving himself from the unknown dangers of the darkness. Unfortunately, others at the lab were not as lucky. They vanished with the lab.

A lot had been disappearing from his life over the last few years. Susan, Franks' wife, had been killed in an auto accident. She had run off the road. No one knew for sure why, but the police said she probably fell asleep at the wheel. She hit a concrete embankment and never knew what happened. She died instantly.

They met at a lecture on food irradiation. He was there acting as public relations for the university. She was one of a hundred protesters circling the lecture center. Her group carried signs and shouted slogans against the process. Her sign read, Stop Nuking My Lunch! It wasn't the sign that caught his attention. Susan's long red hair flowed down and over her shoulders like a river of fire, leading his eyes to her curvy body. She had his immediate attention. He listened to what the protesters were saying, and especially Susan. As they talked, Frank learned she was active in planet saving organizations such as Green Peace, and No Nukes. He thought of her as kind of a left wing wacko, but she was beautiful. He was not as committed as she was in those efforts, but they exchanged numbers and became friends. Eventually they fell in love. They ended up being the perfect couple. He was the scientist who struggled with the moral issues of science. She was his compass, always leading him the ethically correct way. When Frank lost her, he was more than hurt. He was crushed. It had taken months to loosen him from his shock and sadness. Then, he dove back into his work. It was his obsession and the only

thing that could keep his mind from his lost love. Now, even that had disappeared. His research was lost and he was recuperating from another traumatic experience.

Frank did have some idea of what happened two weeks ago, but he didn't exactly know how it happened. He was heading to an interview with the investigation committee. Max Webber would surely be there. The college president, Harold Costello would be there. The police department would be there too. This was getting a lot of press. TV and newspaper stories claimed that sixteen people were in the building when it vaporized in a science lab experiment gone wrong. There was a rumor that manslaughter charges would be filed.

"Dr. Giles, what was the project that you were working on the evening of the accident?" The question came from Max Webber. Costello and a police investigator named Paul Willis were the only others there. Willis was taking notes. He was a heavy set short man with a horseshoe of gray hair.

Frank answered. "Carl Smitz, an associate professor, and I were working with three other students. The project had two goals. The first goal was to create a type of electron field that enclosed a specific area. In common terms the project would create a force field, or electric barrier. The second goal was to create a vacuum inside this barrier. This vacuum would test the integrity of the barrier.

"What do you suppose actually happened that resulted in the accident?" Webber asked.Frank shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Apparently, we created a vacuum inside the

electric barrier. This was the goal.""How do you explain the destruction of the physics lab?"Frank continued, "If the barrier failed, while the vacuum point continued to exist, the

vacuum may have pulled everything into it.""Are you telling us that the whole building, sixteen people, and six cars were sucked into a

vacuum on the third floor?" Paul Willis asked. That's one hell of a Kirby. He added under his breath.

It seems to be my only answer." Frank responded."How large is this point?" Webber asked."We've been attempting to run it between 21 and 38 millimeters." Frank answered."That's between the sizes of a nickel and a half dollar, right?" Webber confirmed."Close," Frank agreed. "But the point would be spherical, not flat.""Would there be remains of any kind from the experiment?" Webber asked.Frank was getting agitated. This was the first occurrence of its kind. I can't say for sure,

but I'd guess that a very heavy spherical pellet is in the site of the lab. I'd also expect it to be slightly radioactive." Frank directed this last statement to Max Webber. "A lot of mass has been compacted."

"A lot of people as well!" Paul Willis cut in. "Who was in charge of this experiment? Did the school physics department approve it? The police investigator was getting a little excited. He was breaking into a slight sweat. Who is going to be responsible for this loss of life?"

Harold Costello looked only slightly ruffled at the outburst from the investigator. "Frank Giles was in charge of the physics lab and all the experiments in that department. He is respected in his field. The school will stand behind him on this."

The investigator's temper was rising. "That's not good enough. I've got sixteen missing, and hundreds of people wanting answers. A lot of people are crawling all over my ass and I haven't got a clue as to what actually happened. Someone is at fault here and someone is going to take a fall. I don't care if it's the Doctor, or if it's you, Mr. Costello, but someone is at fault!"

"That's why we're here people." Webber reminded them. "We searched the site of the laboratory and found nothing. Now the traces of radiation are also gone. Have you got any other theories on what may have happened?"

This is crazy, Frank thought. Smitz thought that the vacuum would be as revolutionary an event as the splitting of the atom. I disagreed. I thought the electric barrier would be a more important invention. It appears I was wrong."

"What did Carl Smitz see as valuable in the creation of an un-enclosed vacuum?" Webber asked.

"He believed that when we created an un-enclosed vacuum a passage would be created. He thought it would be a kind of worm hole."

Willis exploded. "This sounds like a Science Fiction Theater to me." His voice was rising again. "There's no way I can report this. It will never do."

Webber shouted back, "Then report this You are excused from this investigation. It is now solely a matter of the government."

Paul Willis's jaw dropped."Further, the conversations you've heard here today and anything you know about the

disappearance of the lab is classified. Max Webber stepped between Willis and the hospital bed. He talked down to the little man in a stern voice. It would be a federal offense to relate anything you know, or to write it in any form for your department. The only answer you may give in regards to this matter is that you are no longer involved in the investigation. It is being handled by the federal government, and that you have no comment. Do you understand?"

"Yes, but..." Willis tried to say something.Webber continued slowly and clearly. "I am doing you a favor. This is no longer your

problem. Please go, and leave your note pad. Webber added.With the police out of the office the interview took on a whole new direction. Unlike Willis,

who was looking for a person to put the blame on, Webber was interested in understanding the phenomenon. He was not completely unfamiliar with the procedures and could gasp the abstract ideas involved in the science. More then once Frank wondered if Webber was more familiar with the worm hole theory than he let on.

"Would it be possible to bring back whatever goes into the worm hole?" Webber asked. "It is pure speculation, but it may be possible." Frank wondered. "Are you proposing that

we try to recreate the event and pull them back somehow?""What I am proposing may take you unexpectedly. Your government has been researching

the vacuum point theories as well. In fact we have already started some of the initial testing. You seem to be quite a bit ahead of us."

"Just what are you proposing?" Costello asked, with the thought of a government research grant forming in his mind.

"I would like your university to consider teaming with our research group. Working together we can understand this new phenomenon." Webber had their attention. "The government would take the rights of discovery, but they would also absorb the costs and liabilities. The paperwork could be settled in a matter of days." Webber continued. "It would be a matter of secrecy, but upon the completion of the research the university would receive national acclaim. Your involvement would be noted and more research grants could be issued."

Webber's little speech did indeed take the two by surprise, but Costello knew his way around a political bargain. "I will have to take the matter up with the board, but I don't see any problem as longs as the government takes the liabilities and lawsuits revolving around our lab accident

too."The shrewd handling of the situation impressed Webber. The school definitely held the trump card with Frank Giles being a loyal employee contracted to the university. Webber had no choice but to agree.

"By the way," Frank questioned, "what office in the government is interested in continuing the research?"

"The disturbance in atmospheric patterns caused by the vacuum was noticed right away. We had expected this kind of occurrence when we actually started operating our own hole generator. To answer your question, the project is in the control of the Department of Defense."

When Willis had said that a lot of people were asking questions about the accident on campus, he wasn't exaggerating. Harold Costello felt the heat too. As the president of the university, he was responsible for each department and the actions of the staff. If there was a problem on campus, he was the person who actually had to answer to it. To call the accident at the physics lab a problem was an understatement. A problem can be defined. An accident can be explained. This phenomenon went beyond explanation. When the lawyers started charging in with lawsuits Costello knew it was going to be impossible to satisfy any of them. Even the school insurance agents were refusing to acknowledge any considerations without a clearer understanding of what happened. Harold Costello couldn't begin to explain. An atomic explosion would have been easier to answer to.

When Max Webber's interest in the project proved to be more than a need to put the blame on someone, Costello started to see the light. Just as Willis was removed from the accident investigation, Costello hoped he too could use the shield of national bureaucracy. It was his only hope. The college couldn't take the strain of all the lawsuits, and he would surely be out of a job. When it became clear that his professor was the only person who knew anything about what really happened, Harold quickly stepped to the Frank's side. He spoke highly of the professor and put the school in a position of alliance with him. Harold trusted he'd get the same in return. This bet paid off. The government was indeed interested in the research. They were so interested in fact; they would help with the legalities of the accident on campus. This was the only thing Costello really cared about. The school was off the hook and so was he. Whether or not the government actually did anything to satisfy all the claims was unimportant to him. He would just forward all the legal paperwork and let it get stacked on someone elses desk.

All the plans that Frank had developed would be given to the government research team, and their notes would be given to Frank. As it turned out, Frank had little left to relinquish to the government. Most of it had vanished in the lab accident. He, on the other hand, found himself buried in reports. Some of the government plans were similar to the experiments that he and Smitz had pursued. Other programs were way off the mark and unlikely to be useful.

Dan Galanti was the government team leader. He was a slim man with a short salt and pepper beard, but his head was hairless. Both men respected each other as equals in the research. When Frank delivered his notes, Galanti understood completely the direction that they had taken in creating the vacuum. He could fill in the missing data or in some cases improve on the original plan. Galanti considered Frank to be the genius behind the magic that made the vacuum possible. Frank had developed a way to create an electric barrier that air could not pass through. This was the key that held the government researchers back. With this new tool, Galanti was sure that he could create the phenomenon again.

Frank was unsure. His efforts had been unsuccessful even with the magnetic field barrier. He was outside the lab when Carl Smitz created the hole, and he didn't know what Carl had done to make the experiment a success.

Galanti and all the new staff on the project were cream of the crop. If anyone could do the job, Frank believed that these were the people. They were all experts. Everyone down to the electricians who helped set up the new hole generator, were the most competent staff he had ever seen. The government was stopping at nothing to see that the project proceeded without delays.

Frank often wondered what the Department of Defense would want with such a tool. Would he be inventing the next super weapon? Would it be a bomb that sucks everything into itself? Or, would he be creating a new way to travel? Was this an instant invasion transporter? Get a machine behind enemy lines and maybe an army could march out. Could anything ever march out, or was Carl Smitz and the students lost forever?

Franks personal feelings about armies were that it displayed the worst in man. It set aside the intelligence and compromises of getting along with one another, and replaced it with the emotions of primitive man. We've evolved beyond that, he believed. All we need is proper communication and a desire to live happily. He knew Susan would be against working hand in hand with the department of defense. She was more of a left winger than he was. Susan was the idealist, and he was the realist. She could have given him a thousand reasons to stay away from the project. He heard her voice in his mind telling him not to do it. But he knew that an opportunity like this was rare. The offer to work on the secret project was an honor, and the university needed him on the project. He hated the thought of working on a weapon, but as a scientist he could not turn it down. As an employee of the school, he had no choice. He had to ignore his moral compass this time.

The new lab was off campus. There was some concern that it could be too dangerous to have it in such a populated area as the university. No one argued this point. The new location was about thirty-five miles north of the campus, just outside the small town of Romeo. The government had cod named the named the operation as the Romeo Project. The on campus accident was called Juliet. The code names amused Frank. The government seemed to be able to put a name on something and make it understood and acceptable. But in franks view, this was nothing more than an experiment and they didn't understand much of anything.

To the average person who passed by the Romeo site, they wouldn't have thought anything experiment was taking place. The site was typical of a mid Michigan farm. They were simple and well kept. An apple tree grew in front of a freshly painted, 80 year old, wood frame house. Behind the house were a garage and a work shed. Perhaps it was better built than average. Still, there was nothing obviously out of the ordinary. Farthest down the driveway was the barn and silo. The farm was far from typical. The barn held most of the machinery for generating the hole. The actual vacuum point would be inside the silo. The height and open top of the structure would act as a funnel. Engineers had lined the silo with new steel. The structure was strong. As silos go, it would last forever.

Between the main house and the barn were two smaller buildings. The roofs of these buildings were of a single angle that faced the barn. Through a large skylight of safety glass you could see the barn and experiment silo. One of the buildings contained a row of consoles and controls. It would be the back-up control room if there were any problems in the barn. A full staff would man the emergency controls too. The government was sparing no expense. All the equipment, components and personnel were of the highest quality. This was a high priority operation.

The small buildings also held the records and videos of the experiment. It was tragic that the accident had taken the university records at Juliet. This would not happen at Romeo. Daily

uploads to an archive computer backed up the data. No person or event would steal away the secrets of the vacuum from the U.S. Government.

As Frank sat in his room looking out one of the front windows of the old white farmhouse, he wondered where all this could lead. Would they ever open up the hole again? Could it be possible to retrieve the victims of the Juliet accident or were his students and friends lost forever? What are they experiencing inside the black hole that took them? Frank shuddered at the thought of this new force, falling into the wrong hands. And whose hands, he wondered, were the right hands? Suddenly Frank felt very alone, and realized he missed Susan more than ever.

"The capacitors are charged and ready." The technician reported. Giles and Galanti reviewed the dials and readouts on the control panel. Everything had been tested twice.

"I guess it's time to see what we can do with our heads put together." Galanti remarked.The barn was not much different from any other except for the three trailers parked inside,

on the rough wood floor. One held only replacement parts for the hole generator. The other was a near sterile workshop. The third was the control center for the experiment. From this trailer a cable three inches round ran through a passage in the floor. On the lower level it snaked into the silo. There it split several times to supply components with power and relay data back to the control center.

"Let's get the electron barrier put up." Giles remarked. "If we can get it stable, we'll go from there."

"Smoke the silo." Galanti ordered. The technician at the control board started the procedure that would fill the silo with a harmless chemical smoke. On one of the TV monitors they could see a dark cloud filling the silo. It was a view from near the top of the tall structure. Soon the view of the silo chamber was blocked by a dark brown smoky color.

Giles pulled his chair to the control board. "Ion generators are active. He said as he flipped a switch. "Electron magnets are in proper alignment and at ten percent."

"We're ready for sphere generation." Galanti reported. He walked to a panel and flipped a row of switches. "Magnet rotators are on and up to speed. You can start the power up program."

Giles typed in a line of commands and entered them. Everyone looked into the dark screen of the monitor not knowing what to expect. It was dull and dark.

"Magnets are at 75 percent." The tech said. "An electron barrier is established at the vacuum point. The diameter is approximately 224 millimeters."

Giles ordered. "Fan out the silo."At his command the silo starting to fan out. The smoke was clearing and they could see the

ring of electron magnets rotating around a dark brown sphere. It was floating at the center of the spinning magnet network. They had captured the smoky atmosphere inside an electron barrier! A roar of cheers, as well as gasps, came from the engineers at the emergency controls in the other building. Everyone was pleased.

"Let's tighten the ring a bit gentlemen. Reduce the diameter 50 percent." Galanti said.Giles entered the command into the computer. The rotating ring of magnets decreased in

diameter and pushed at the smoky sphere. The globe wobbled a bit and shrank in size."Temperature is rising." The technician reported. "It's now above 90 degrees and going up

fast."Giles answered. "We had relative temperature rise to sphere size at the university, I mean

Juliet. He corrected himself. It's nothing to worry about. Are the data recorders getting all of this?"

A voice answered from the speaker panel on the control board. It was a voice from the second control team in the other building. "We have the entire event on video and all data recorders are on." It answered in a tinny voice.

"Good, so far." Giles looked to Galanti, "Shall we proceed?""I don't see a reason to stop. We've got a barrier. Let's see how strong it is."The technician informed them. "Air pressure inside the sphere is at four atmospheres. Silo

temperature is stable at 92 degrees C." "Reduce the sphere 50 percent." Galanti ordered.Giles fed the command into the computer. Again, the circle of rotating electron magnets

came together and again and the smoky sphere reduced in size."Sphere size is 112mm." The technician reported. "Inside pressure calculated at sixteen

atmospheres.""Take the sphere to 29mm." Galinti ordered and Giles answered with the command to the

computer."Sphere at 29mm." The technician reported. "Silo temperature is 100 degrees." On the

monitor they could see the revolving ring of electron magnets spinning around a floating black ball about the size of a nickel.

Giles typed a command, Im increasing the magnet power to 100 percent." The sphere reduced in size to the point that it was not visible. "What is the ion sensor reading?" Giles asked.

The technician answered. "Ions read zero. I detect no free ions in the chamber. They're all in sphere formation and holding."

"It looks like we have the point compression process under control." Galanti noted. "Let's move onto the next phase."

Frank Giles centered himself at his computer keyboard and started typing command. "Ill make the break duration 1/1000th of a second." he added.

Wait! Galanti countered. "What was the duration of the break when you and Smitz tried the experiment at the Juliet site?"

"1/1000th of a second, we agreed to start the tests there." He answered."You didn't get any response, did you?" Galanti asked. "And when nothing happened, you

called it a day. It was Dr. Smitz and some others that stayed to continue the experiment. Whatever they changed created the phenomenon." He paused. "What were their plans? What were they thinking?" Galanti wondered aloud.

Giles answered. "They were going to change the break duration. They were going to make it shorter. The plan was to quickly turn off the ion barrier and let the built up pressure explode. Then, re-capture the vacuum at the center-point of expansion after a fraction of a second break interval. Once the barrier was re-established it would be enlarged in size. This would create a powerful vacuum within the new ion barrier sphere.

Giles paused for a thought, and then continued. Smitz was going to shorten the break duration and capture the vacuum quicker. What they didn't know was that it would somehow create the phenomena that occurred at the Juliet site.

They decided to instantly kill the barrier and let the super compressed balloon of the smoke explode for 1/60,000 of a second. It was the shortest break duration that the system could produce. When the barrier is re-established a vacuum would be created in that tiny sphere.

"Prepare the silo for expansion," Frank ordered.

With a flip of a switch the silo top opened. The flat top split and slid into itself just as the aperture of a camera lens opens to become larger. With the top open, the sunlight bathed the silo with the noon sun.

"Prepare for break." Frank commanded.The technician reached over the control panel and held his hand poised above the ion barrier

kill button. "Break in five seconds... four..." With his hand ready to drop on the large red button he looked to the monitor, "Three... Two... One..." The technician dropped his had onto the switch. For a second the monitor flashed white then the picture returned.

All lights are green. The technician announced.Frank typed in a command at his computer. Im expanding the magnets back to the 112mm

point. The spinning machine expanded and a small black globe appeared at the center of the rotation.

All lights are green, was reported.I'm expanding the vacuum point back to the 224mm size. Frank said as he typed in the

controls. The machine adjusted itself again and was rotating just inside the silo walls. Floating, centered in the ring of magnets was a black globe the size of a bowling ball. It was glossy black, almost wet looking. Occasionally a smoky white clouded the pristine black and made the globe look like it was rotating.

All lights are green. The technician informed the room.Are we getting video on this Galanti questioned.The speaker answered. Video is being recorded and I confirm all lights are green.

Computer models indicate an inner sphere reading of 1600 tor. We have vacuum. A crowd cheered in the distant room as Frank and Galanti looked at each other and smiled. They had created a vacuum contained by nothing but electricity. The field barrier was a proven success! It had held incredible pressure and was now holding a great vacuum.

There moment of self adulation was interrupted by a flash on the screen. Sparks flew from one of the spinning electromagnets. It chard the steel wall as it rotated, but before anyone had a chance to react the screen went black.

"Did we lose that camera?" Galanti asked. "What's the status of system continuity?"The answer came from the Emergency Control Room. "This is ECR. We have a complete

system failure in the silo. All lights are red. Do you confirm?""Main control also has a complete silo failure." The technician reported.Frank was still staring at the blank monitor. "It is just a blank screen." he kept telling

himself. "The hole generating machinery is still there. We just lost the connection. The video camera is broke. It's not the blackness that I saw before." He was starting to sweat with fear. It took everything in him to gain control. Then he spoke to the crew. "We must have lost the main cable connection to the silo. That's why we lost everything at the same time."

"Possibly," Galanti agreed, "but we better do an atmospheric review." He questioned the Emergency Control Room. "What is the status of the environment?

It only took a second for the ECR to reply, "15 MPH wind. The barometer is falling. Wait, barometer is rapidly falling and the winds are picking up. The ground based readings show 15 MPH, but the rooftop wind speed is almost 40 MPH!"

Frank looked to Galanti, "We may have a disturbance on our hands."Galanti questioned the ECR, "What's the barometer reading?"

The answer came instantly, "Seven millibars and falling. It's lower than the eye of a hurricane." There was a pause, and then the ECR continued. "We have clouds building up fast. We could have some weather coming our way."

"We created the weather." Frank said. "We have a black hole in the silo."Galanti was at the control panel now. "Ok, we've opened a hole and lost the monitors. Do

we power down or continue?" The excitement was obvious in his voice."Continue if possible." Frank answered cautiously."Turn the generators on." Galanti ordered, and the technician activated the bank of diesel

generators. They would keep the experiment running in case of a power failure. "What's the status on the rest of the control panel?" Galanti asked Frank as he reviewed the operation.

"We have confirmed control of the main power supply and the emergency supply. The red lights are on for all the silo equipment except the aperture cap and camera. We have gun control and tether winch confirmed."

"What is the farm status?" Galanti questioned ECR."We see shingles from the barn roof flying everywhere. They are tearing up and looping

down into the silo. A small dust tornado is starting to form, but the low altitude wind speed is only 40 MPH. There was a pause. Then the ECR continued. "Clouds are building and rain is eminent, possible hail as well. Temperature is 60 degrees and falling slowly.

In the control trailer the scientists could hear the wind whistling from outside. Through the one window in the door they could see the dust and dirt blowing around wildly. The big barn doors, latched shut, were stretching at the hinges to open. Cracks of light streaked in.

"Ok, let's go. We have a hole. Now let's shoot a probe into it." Frank said."Arm the probe!" Galanti commanded as he took his seat at the control panel. Frank was to

his right and the assistant technician was to his left.The recorders are on," responded a voice from the panel speaker. The tethered probe was

far up on the inside the silo. The winch mount held a camera that aimed down at the hole generating machinery. Now switched on, it overlooked the entire base of the silo and showed its smooth rounded sides down into the nothingness of the dark unknown. Painted onto the inner sides of the silo wall were measurements of height off the ground. The blackness was up to the eleven-foot level. They could see nothing lower than that.

"Probe camera on," Galanti announced as he flipped a switch. When he did this, a monitor in front of him also came to life. It showed much the same scene. "Electronics on." he added. And a series of indicator lights came alive on the console in front of him. These were the probe functions. He noted that they were active and recording. They had designed the probe to measure air pressure, vacuum, temperature, and radiation. It had the camera and a high intensity lighting system that was already on and functioning. The last piece of equipment installed on the probe was an antenna like sensor designed to pick up any electronic or radio activity in the vacuum. A wireless sending unit was also a necessary component to relay the data if the umbilical broke.

The technician announced, "We have the radio link and are we are ready for probe deployment."

"Release the probe to six feet." Frank suggested. "We can run a system check and see how the tether holds up."

"Agreed." Galanti turned a dial that started the unwinding of the tether.

On the hatch monitor you could see the yellow egg shaped probe lower toward the hole. On the probe's monitor you could see the darkness of the hole larger and closer. The probes' video lens was nearer to the unknown.

"Receiving data by umbilical and radio," the technician announced. "The readings are identical."

"Good," Frank responded. Then he added, "The edge of the darkness seems to be about at the eleven foot mark on the silo. Let's take the probe to twelve feet and take a look inside."

Galanti lowered the probe down to the edge of the blackness. The monitor before him showed only black while the hatch monitor showed the silo scene. From the wench mount near the silo cap the wired tether cord ran down almost 80 feet to the probe located just above the darkened bottom of the silo. Despite the intense lamps that were lighting the area under the probe, they could see nothing lower then the twelve foot marker on the silo wall. As both scientists watched the hatch monitor, the technician gave a run down on data reported back via the umbilical. "We have no readings of radiation or video. Vacuum is off the scale. Temperature is below zero.

"What about radio contacts?" Galanti asked."I show some minor electrical activity. We are recording it, but it's unclear if it is natural or

man made.""Look!" Frank motioned to his hatch monitor. "The size of the hole is increasing!"The blackness was approaching the twelve-foot level and engulfing the probe inch by inch.

After a few seconds, the tethered line ran into the nothingness and stretched taunt into the darkness. Debris from outside the silo wiped around and into the blackness.

"The probe is completely inside the black now." The technician commented."Are you still receiving data from the probe?"The answer came only a moment later, "We are receiving all channels via tether and all

channels via radio. All probe lights are green."The speaker panel confirmed that they were in an "all green" situation. Still, the monitors

weren't changing. The hatch camera showed the view of the silo with the tether leading down to the growing blackness, but the probe camera was completely black.

"Change the mode of the camera to infra red," Galanti instructed. The change added nothing to the view. "Prepare to shoot a flare." he added.

High up on the wall of the silo a small port launched a flare into the silo. With the debris from outside, the flare shot down the silo. They saw it for only an instant as it entered the dark bottom of the chamber. The black had progressed up to the fifteen-foot level now.

On the probe monitor, now in infra red, a streak flashed across the monitor and quickly became a smear on the screen. In a second it was only a small dot. A moment later it was gone.

"We can't record light, but we can record a slower heat signature." Frank said aloud. "It doesn't make sense."

"We are still picking up the heat radiation with the probe sensor. It's still moving, going deeper into the vacuum." The technician sounded amazed, "It has to be a mile from the probe now, almost out of range." Together, all the scientists realized they had indeed opened a passage to someplace vast.

"Are we getting any electrical activity?" Frank asked."Nothing recognizable, just random spikes " the technician answered.Frank leaned back in his chair. "It looks like there is nothing in there, nothing but space."

"Where is this space?" Galanti asked. "The silo is only 100 feet high, not a mile deep." There was a pause as they all wondered. "It has to be somewhere else. This has to be a passage to some place."

"Let's put out the tether," Frank suggested. He started the process of unrolling the three hundred feet of wire that connected the probe to the control panel. The probe went deeper and deeper into the dark silo bottom. All the while, the monitor showed nothing but darkness. On the hatch monitor, at the top of the silo, you could see that the size of the hole was expanding. The darkness was up to the twenty foot level on the stainless steel wall.

Suddenly the monitor seemed to shake. A rumbling sound echoed from the silo. The emergency control room called from the other building. "We've got red lights on all panels. We are loosing the silo foundation."

The three men in the control trailer could feel the Earth begin to shake. The hatch monitor showed the blackness was up to the twenty-five foot level. Galanti reached to the silo cap controls. "I'll close the silo cap half way." he said. "That may control the expansion of the hole." As he adjusted the cap apature, the sound of the wind whistled loudly through the top. The turbulence inside the silo was great. The hatch monitor showed the probe umbilical was vibrating. The probe would be shaking wildly down the length of the cable, deep in the hole.

"We are loosing the tether." The technician said. "We're not getting a signal. It'll snap any second now." Before he finished his sentence, the tether gave a wild jerk and bounced free of the darkness. As it whipped wildly inside the silo, all three of the controllers could see the fray of torn wires at its end.

"Do we have radio reception?" Frank asked."Just an occasional radio spike, the probe is alive but it will be out of range any second."

The technician said.The control trailers shook with another rumble from the foundations. The silo cap monitor

looked oddly askew."We have a visual on foundation loss. The warning came from the Emergency Control

Room speaker. "The silo is 10 degrees off vertical. We have some height loss as well." Galanti looked worried. "We may not be able to stop the progression. We're in uncharted

waters." He worked the silo cap controls and the hatch slowly came closed. The wind whistled to a scream and came to a sudden silence. The rumbling of the Silos foundation broke the silence. The hatch monitor showed the blackness was reaching the thirty two-foot level on the silo walls. Stress cracks began to show themselves. The smooth steel on the inside of the silo started peeling away from the outer cinder block frame. The mortar holding the reinforced construction began to crack and turn to dust, spinning around inside the silo and diving down into the black beyond.

"We've lost contact with emergency control," the technician exclaimed. "We've got to get out of here!" The shaking of the trailers made it hard to walk as he started toward the door. The trailer took a violent lurch and fell to an angle. The exit was up a steep incline now.

Galanti shouted to be heard over the thundering noise. "Power it down! Turn everything off!" Frank started for the power cut off switch, but before he got to it the entire control panel went dark. All the monitors and indicators were black. The only light in the trailer was the battery powered emergency lamps that hung on the wall.

"We're in the hole," the tech said with terror in his voice."No." Frank corrected. "We just lost power." The shaking slowed. "It must have ripped out

the power supply lines and shut off the equipment."

Or perhaps it swallowed the equipment, and ripped the power supply lines." Galanti suggested. "But, as long as we're not swallowed..."

The trailer rocked sharply, throwing all three of them against the wall, then it rolled to its' side. Frank looked for his companions. Both were apparently unconscious, tumbled together with manuals and gear at the back of the trailer. A flashing of the probes monitor caught his attention. It was flashing bright white. "We're getting something from the probe." He shouted, unbelieving. Something is coming in from the hole!" No one responded.

The speaker came to life with static. A second later it was making a quiet buzzing noise. The buzzing became the background as a voice slowly became louder and understandable.

"I know you think you are doing the right thing." It was a female voice and frank recognized it immediately. "You are very wrong, you have to stop." The probe monitor stopped flashing and the face of a beautiful woman appeared on it. Everything on the panel was dead. This can't be happening. Frank thought.

He reached to the monitor, touching the screen. "Susan? Susan, what's happening?"Susan continued, "You shouldn't be here. This place is not for you.""Are you alright? Can you hear me?" Frank was babbling in disbelief, talking to the

monitor's image of his long dead wife. "What do you mean?"This place is not for you. She pleaded. "You must stop intruding into this space." The

picture was starting to fade and show static. "This is all I can say.""Where are you?" Frank asked the monitor."I am where you are not. I am nowhere. Then the screen went black.There was a pounding at the door and the sound of commotion as four rescue workers tore

the trailer door from its frame. The intrusion broke the confused state that he was in and Frank fell against the back wall of the trailer with the other two scientists. The equipment tables that were mounted to the floor now jutted out of the wall. The monitors and controls were directly above him. The trailer was on its side, tied to the laws of physics and gravity. Reality had returned. The event was over.

From the air, the farm looked like a war zone. All that remained of the barn was the stone foundation. An eighty-year-old slab traced the shape and location of the massive structure. Where the silo once stood tall was a gaping hole some twenty feet in diameter and ten feet deep. In the hole the twisted remains of the last control trailer laid, half buried in the dark soil. Frank Giles and Galanti were shocked to see the destruction around them. The force of the vacuum had pulled three large trees up and dragged them toward the silo. Their roots plowed a trail into the earth. The Emergency Control Building was on fire. Huge concussions shook the air as two underground fuel storage tanks exploded and created small mushroom clouds of fire near the generators.

The main house was also a total loss. It looked as though a tornado had set down and tore it to pieces. Yet oddly, there was no debris. It looked as if everything loose had been vacuumed away, as indeed it had.

Frank found himself sitting on the old foundation of the barn. He watched the others work to extinguish the fire at the emergency control and records building. He was shaken and light headed. He didn't remember sitting down, nor did he feel compelled to help in the fire fighting. The vision of Susan kept returning to his mind's eye. Her looks and voice were just as he remembered. What exactly did her message mean?

Galanti was walking back to him from the inferno raging in the distance. He was covered in black soot and sweat. It's all destroyed." he sighed. "Every piece of equipment, every note and

drawing is gone. It's all gone. The explosion blew open the vault. We even lost the basic records we had before we started here."

"Was anyone hurt?" Frank asked."No, thank God for that miracle," he said without thinking."What are you going to tell Webber?" Frank asked.Galanti didn't respond right away. He just sat down and watched the fire and two years

worth of research going up in smoke. "I don't know exactly, but I'm not going to say we got a message from God delivered by some red head! I can't do that. Webber will take me off the project."

You saw it too," Frank asked, astonished, and you plan to continue?""I didn't see anything, and you didn't either unless you want people to think you're crazy.

He paused to let the statement take impact. Webber will want to continue. He'll find another site and we'll learn to harness this thing.

Susan's voice came to his mind again. I am where you are not.Galanti continued. We already know a lot more about it. Maybe we can use the force to

run generators and power plants." He was getting caught up in the possibilities. "We could solve the energy problems of the world."

Frank got up and started walking away. This rambling reminded him of the wild expectations of past revolutionaries. Frank was sick with the thought of ignoring the warning they had gotten from Susan, his moral compass. She was the person who had always looked out for the worlds future.

"Hey, where are you going?" Galanti asked."I'm going where you are not!" Frank answered.

***The One That Got Away

I've got to tell you this incredible story about a friend of mine. His name is Tiny Moe. I've known Tiny all my life and there ain't any reason for him to lie to me. I have a hard time believing his story myself, but I do. 'Cause I was there!

Tiny and I were fishing one day last summer. We were at the old mill pond over on the Handly property, reeling them in one after the other. Boy, the fish were biting that day! We must have caught ten keepers.

I know Tiny didn't just make this up 'cause he always been more of farmer than a story teller. In fact he's got the greenest thumb of anyone in town. Last year he won a prize for the biggest tomato at the Harvest festival. His Garden is always loaded with the best plants. Anyway, when Tiny was ropen up the rowboat, he noticed an odd wild flower in a patch of crab grass. It was like a sunflower, but it had long yellow petals.

When he picked the blossom, Tiny let out a yell that curled the hair on my neck. That flower must have had a thorn. That's what I thought. He kept yelling and flailing his arms like he was being electrocuted. Sparks were even jumping from the stringer of fish he was holding. About the time I figured he needed help, Tiny just up and disappeared. Faster then a blink, he was gone. I looked around. I even called out his name. He wasn't anywhere to be found. All that was left was a scorched spot in the grass.

For about an hour I wondered where ol' Tiny was. I'm not sure if I was waiting for him to come back, or just working up the nerve to go and face his wife alone. I was just starting my walk back to town when there was a big splash in the water behind me. I turned around and saw

Tiny flat on his back in the shallow bank of the mill pond. It wasn't an easy job, but I pulled Tiny to shore. He's a big man.

The first thing I noticed when I touched him was that he was ice cold. I could almost hear his teeth a' chattering. His eyes were open, but I don't think he was all the way awake. When I got him to solid ground he started grabbing at me and fighting to get away at the same time. He was screaming nonsense mostly, except for an occasional "Help!"

It took a few minutes for Tiny to calm down. When he looked at me I could see real clearly he was crying. Big tears ran down his whiskered cheeks. His voice was cracking and strained when he tried to explain what happened.

"I don't know where it was but it was far away. I could tell by the way I was feeling."Tiny looked into my eyes and pleaded for me to understand. "Do you know how you feel

when you go on a carnival ride and get spinning around?" He asked. "You get that feeling that everything inside you is being pushed to one side as you go shooting off in the other direction." Tiny used his hands to Show himself shooting off in some direction. "I felt that way." He explained.