Godwar Part 3: Chapter 7: Going Underground
"I can't believe I'm doing this," grumbled Angelique, even as she morphed herself into a wide-screen monitor. Gizmo connected a few devices, made some calibrations. Deena looked on over his shoulder.
"Okay, here's the thing. Look. Or can you, while you're like that? You can? Good. See, here's the log of the reading I got just an hour ago. Now, here's the current reading. Notice anything?"
"Yeah, your finger's on my face."
"I mean, doofus, that these figures haven't been constant. They've changed."
Angelique wasn't sure she got it, but she was beginning to. "You mean…"
"Exactly." Gizmo scowled. "For a brief time, one or more of the fundamental laws of reality changed. Then changed back." He sat back in the lawn chair, gnawing on a fingernail, while Angelique morphed back into her human form. "And that just doesn't happen. They're called 'fundamental laws' because they're fundamental. If a fundamental law changes, even for a brief moment, it would mean…" His eyes grew big and his face grew pale. "Who…who do you guys know in the big leagues? I mean, major heavy hitters?"
….
"Yes, Gar?" Raven had been able to get some sleep, but the simple fact is, the day will not wait for a person to catch up with it. Things keep happening. Things like this.
"Gizmo's been doing some tinkering, trying to access the Osirans' Link. But he's come across something that scares even him. Here, I'll put him on." The picture on the screen changed slightly, as Gizmo's bald head filled the screen. "Greenie ain't whistling Dixie when he says it scares me. You guys got anything in the way of deep sky or space probes?"
"As a matter of fact, we do." She debated on whether or not to tell him about Omega's lab, then decided on an incomplete summary. "One of our members has launched some deep space probes, in response to…a suspected anomaly."
"For God's sakes, tell him to call 'em back. The last thing we need is anything out there pointing the way back here."
"I will relay your concern. But…it may well be too late. The probes have been out for a while now. Why? What have you come across?"
"Passive scans of nearby space indicate a fluctuation in certain fundamental laws of space-time. In plain English, reality just blinked. Like a universal brown-out."
She frowned. "What could have caused that?"
"No clue. But everything's connected. If one of those probes finds, or in some way detects whatever I sensed, it could be like leading a trail back here. Do I have to tell you that would be bad?"
Another frown. This sounded very similar to what both Omega had detected, and what the Entity had warned her about. "Alright. But tell me your fears. I need more information than just 'it's bad.'"
The image of kid genius blew out a sigh. "It isn't that easily explained, not without the math to back it up. But we could be looking at a false vacuum collapse. An imminent one. Starting here."
"False vacuum?" It had long been theorized that the universe existed at a certain quantum energy level above its true vacuum state. In fact, that had been one of the main differences between the universe of the Osirans and this one: theirs had existed at a higher energy level, allowing for different patterns of evolution. But neither one had existed at zero energy level; to do so would mean….
…nonexistence, essentially.
And if there was a fluctuation happening, on the quantum level… "I understand your concern. But you seem to have some fears beyond a 'simple' disturbance."
"Darn right I do. Have you ever wondered what sort of life forms a zero energy level universe might give rise to? And what they'd seek out? Like, oh, maybe, energy? Or anything leading to energy? And any deep space probes have got to have some connection back here, or there's no point in sending them out. Right?"
"Very well. I'll convey your concerns." A suspicion was beginning to form in her mind: the Entity's words, what it wanted her to do, the reports of the Hunters regarding the desolate sector they'd passed through, the Gordanians who'd kidnapped Starfire and what had happened to them, combined with the magical "beacon" Beulah Bleak had sent…out into deep space. "You think there's a chance we might get some unwelcome company?"
"I think it's already here."
…..
The Hunter starship Deson approached the designated area very carefully. Omega had apprised them of Gizmo's warning, and of the condition of the Gordanian slavers they'd encountered. Shields were up and at maximum, with all sensors set for coarse/passive data only. No active sensors.
Talks to God was not on the bridge, but Seer had a direct line to him. Anything they found out would be instantly communicated to him, and to the piece of The One that was currently traveling with them. The great starship was ever so slowly scanning the area for anything that didn't belong. Without active scanners, however, that was a slow process.
Seer chafed at the rate of their discoveries, but he hadn't risen to his current rank by being unwise. For right now, the safety of the ship and its crew was paramount; all the information in the universe would do them no good if they were in no shape to relay it. "Tactical. Anything?"
"No, sir. The shielded visual scans aren't reporting anything. Maybe we could drop the shielding just a bit?"
Seer dithered. It was tempting…but then he remembered the reports Omega had sent them, on the shape of the Gordanians who'd encountered the very thing they sought. "No. Continue scanning as you are." He touched a comm. pad on a low ridge that served him as the arm of a chair, the normal Hunter "seated" position being to simply lower oneself into a nest of cushions. This particular link went straight to Talks. "Does The One sense anything, Talks?"
"Let me ask." There was a brief pause. Then, "There is something here. The One senses it, but it is diffuse, vague. However, The One is advising extreme caution."
"We will certainly do-*"
"Sir!" Sharpens the Blade, at his post at the weapons console, spoke up, his voice alive with alarm. "Sir, all weapons just locked onto something!"
"Passive scans only, repeat, passive scans only. But can you determine the thing's position by where it is not?"
"Trying, sir…" After a few moments, "Sir, I'm getting multiple targets, with strong feedback signals emanating from each one. I've got them blocked, otherwise, we'd be losing targeting sensors. Orders?"
"Determine the position of the…objects. Talks?" On the viewscreen by his couch, Talks' head inclined towards him. "Can The One tell us anything this close?"
"Only that we should leave. It seems whatever we've found is of such nature that it defies even The One's ability to identify it."
"Then leave we shall. Navigations! Plot us a course out of here, avoiding those anomalies. Communications…Hamstrings, get in touch with Omega…"
"Sir!" Sharpens the Blade spoke up in alarm. "The, the targeting sensors have picked up more anomalies!" He looked over at his captain. "We're surrounded, sir!"
…..
The Logans' house: Gizmo had finally persuaded Gar to let him use the secure, satellite based internet link system he had. "Thank God for Google Earth," he muttered. The others, Angelique, Deena, Garfield and Terra, looked on with interest. This was a side to Gizmo they'd never seen before. An intense side. Maybe even a scared side.
"How does Google Earth help?"
"I needed to know just where we're located. Ah. Here." He pointed out a small spot on the screen. "Here we are. Now…." He searched, moving the pointer over, checking the latitude and longitude. "It should be…right about here. Yeah. That should be it." He stopped scrolling and took note of the surroundings.
"What? What are you looking for?"
"A place I'd heard about, but never been to. Yeah. That's gotta be it, not all that far from here, either. C'mon."
…..
Raven was walking down the corridor toward her room when she felt what could only be described as a sharp sting or concussive pain all over her body. Images, horrific images, flooded her mind. Images she could tell didn't come from her.{{Orb? What is it?}}
{{Pain. Disorientation. Discoporation. Termination. I have died.}}
{{What?}} Died?
{{A part of me has died. That….that has never happened before. I…}}
{{What do you mean?}}
But the Orb made no reply.
….
"I fail to see, "said Athena, "Why this is of such importance." She and Blackfire were shopping at the local mall.
"It just is. Your natural skin color…nothing wrong with it, but a black swimsuit just doesn't go with it. Maybe something in red…."
"Can I help you?" A large, matronly woman came over to them, her employee tag dangling from her collar. She was well-dressed in a floral outfit of red and black, and wearing oddly pointed eyeglasses that apparently doubled as dark sunshades. Her name tag read, "Ms. Evans."
"Uh, maybe." Blackfire was acutely aware, and on the lookout for, the "demon saleslady" the others had told her about. For some reason, one of the workers here not only possessed positively fantastic (though apparently not supernatural) powers of persuasion, but was also more than dedicated to stripping all females associated with the Titans down to the barest legal minimum of clothing, and, if possible, beyond. Blackfire looked around, but didn't see anybody that looked all that threatening. Demons were usually pretty obvious. Weren't they? Anyway, this person looked harmless enough. "We're looking for a swimsuit for my friend here. Oh, and while we're at it, maybe some, y'know, sleep apparel. Pajamas or something."
"Hm." The woman looked Athena up and down, appraisingly. "Yes, yes, I think I have just the thing." She stood off to one side, still looking Athena up and down. "Hm. Maybe, as you said, something in red….but what shade? There are so many. Here." She reached a decision, and rummaged through the stacks until she found what she was looking for. "Here, dear. Try this one on." She handed the bikini to Athena.
Blackfire looked doubtfully at the suit. It seemed kinda…small. But maybe that was just because Athena was so tall; at six feet, it wasn't always easy to find clothes properly sized for her. "Uh, sure. Go ahead, 'Thena. Try it on. I'll wait out here."
….
Raven went to the Orb's room, but found the alien entity to be as unresponsive in "person," as it was from a distance. She touched her communicator. "Omega? Do you have contact with the Deson?"
"No. I was just about to call you. Contact was lost five minutes ago, and I cannot seem to re-establish it. I fear the worst."
"So do I. Do you have their last known whereabouts?"
…
"Uhm, Blackfire? I, I really don't know about this…"
"Oh, trust me, dearie. It's what all the young women are wearing these days. Just look in any fashion magazine. Now, as for sleeping apparel…I have just the thing."
….
"What, exactly, are we looking for?" Angelique and Deena had followed Gizmo, along with Gar and Terra, to a cave deep in the Rockies. A cave conspicuously absent from any maps.
"Something I heard somebody tell about. I never gave it much thought, but it might be just the thing. At least, temporarily." He frowned in concentration, holding his cobbled-together PDA, the wearable light on his head guiding his way. Angelique, of course, didn't need it, and neither did Deena, but Gar and Terra felt better for being able to see the techno-kid. Although, he was acting surprisingly civilized for a change…well, Gar reasoned, he had to have some social skills, just to get along in whatever group he found himself in. Even to the small degree that he did.
Gizmo paused, wetting one finger and holding it up. "This way," he said, leading the way into the stygian darkness of the cavern. Presently, they came to a large opening that appeared to be deliberately cut from the solid rock around them. "This…could be it." He fumbled with his headlight, expanding the beam and flashing it across the interior of the cavern.
And the others gasped as the beam illuminated a whole underground city, apparently deserted, underneath a huge expanse of cavernous space. Angelique morphed into a searchlight, revealing houses and buildings stretching onward into the distance, apparently not stopping even at the edge of her beam. "What is all this, Giz?" asked Gar.
"Somethin' the US government built back in the Cold War days, when they thought any day would see the nukes a'flyin'. The head guys wanted a place they could run to, not just a shelter, but a whole underground city they could run things from. This place is several miles below ground, behind layer upon layer of solid rock," and here, he gestured overhead, "which was reinforced every which way you could imagine. Take a twenty-megaton bunker buster to get down here, if even that would do it." He flashed his light around. "Place was supposed to be completely self-sufficient, has its own water, air, power supply. And communications, such as they were in those days, o' course. No cell phones. Anyway, they probably wouldn't a' had 'em down here. Landlines to the surface, more'n likely. Dunno about satellite communications.
"But it was basically forgotten about, with a little help. Once Russia caved, some of the bigwigs figured it wouldn't do for We the Sheeple to know they'd been prepared to rabbit at the first hint of a missile attack. Not to mention squandering all that money to build a shelter just for them. So they basically erased it from the ledger books, burned all the files…you get the picture.
"Thing is, it's all complete, still. Oh, there's probably some decay, but nothing a little elbow grease won't fix up. Everything down here was built to outlast civilization itself, remember. They had all the equipment and spare parts they figured they'd need and then some. No resupply. Not with everything topside a nuclear slag pile." He continued to shine his light, first one way, then the other, assessing those areas he figured needed the most immediate attention.
"Aaand…you're looking for this place why?" Gar was thinking of the Titans' alternate HQ, in what had once been Slade's old fortress, back in Jump City. Did they really need this?
Gizmo shot him an irritated look. "Get a clue, Greenie. Attack from space. O'course…" Here he paused, another worried expression etching his features. "If I'm right-an' for the first time in my life, I really really hope I'm not—all those miles of rock overhead will be about as effective as thin air."
To be continued…
