ROBOTECH/RIFTS CROSSOVER
 
By Chris Meadows (writing as "Jared Thorne")
 
 
 
Introduction: Overview
 
     ROBOTECH and RIFTS are two Role-Playing systems created by
Palladium Books.  ROBOTECH, adapted from the cartoon epic of the
same name, concerns a mysterious alien fortress that crash-lands
on earth.  This fortress is rebuilt by the planet's inhabitants.
A race of giant humanoids called the Zentraedi come to earth to
reclaim it, but the humans defeat them and they change sides.
They go to try to negotiate a peace treaty with the aliens'
masters, the Robotech Masters. Meanwhile, the Robotech Masters
send a fleet of ships to earth to reclaim the power source hidden
within the fortress, for they will lose their great power and
virtual immortality without it. The humans defeat the aliens at
great cost.  In the end, the power source is ruptured, releasing
the seeds of the Invid Flower of Life. This attracts the Invid, a
race of insectlike aliens, to earth. They enslave it, and by the
time the expeditionary force sent to find the Robotech Masters
returns, it is almost too late. However, they defeat the Invid,
and Earth is free once more.  In the series of novels, that's how
it stays.  But in the RPG, the Invid return after a few months.
There also happens to be a Robotech Masters ship, hidden away on
earth, and a rogue Russian militia group that has cooperated with
them, forming the basis for more RPG supplements.
     The power source, Protoculture, allowed some amazing feats.
Giant robots were created, and their control systems hooked
directly into the human brain, allowing the pilot to move the
robot around like it was his own body.  Spacefold engines were
used for warp speed drive.  The Veritech vehicles were
created--airplanes, tanks, and even motorcycles that transformed
into power armor units.
     RIFTS concerns another earth, where a nuclear war has
unlocked the gates of magic.  "Ley lines" of magical energy span
the earth, and interdimensional gates (rifts) open haphazardly,
allowing all sorts of creatures to enter earth. There are several
major nation-states in this time hundreds of years after the war.
The major one, the Coalition, encourages illiteracy in its
attempts to keep control of the people, and the practice of magic
is banned.  Here, too, are giant robots, albeit nuclear powered.
And Here There Be Dragons.
 
     This continuing story is slanted more toward those who have
seen/read ROBOTECH and/or RIFTS than those who haven't. That is
not to say that those of you who have not should not read this.
I'm just explaining that if I omit some details, it is because I
am something of an expert in the subject and tend to assume that
most people know as much as I do.
 
NOTE: Two characters in this story (so far) are real: Joe Moore,
currently a Freshman at Parkview High School, Springfield, MO;
and Chris Meadows (myself), currently a Freshman at Southwest
Missouri State University, also Springfield, MO.  Also, none of
the dimensions explicitly mentioned in this story is supposed to
be the "real" one--the one WE live in.  For example, neither Joe
nor I know martial arts or are working for--but I don't want to
spoil that part of the story.  Suffice it to say that we're just
two ordinary students, in "real life."
 
 
 
Chapter 1: Enter the Storm
 
 
     Streams of plasma and cannon fire crackled back and forth
between the two opposing forces.  On one side was the
newly-returned Robotech Expeditionary force, come back to earth
for the purpose of exacting vengeance upon the Invid who had
taken Earth.  On the other were the Invid themselves, returning
fire from their outpost Hive.
     The attacking force was perhaps the last of the organized
platoons remaining from the assault on Reflex Point.  Its mecha,
Protoculture-powered fighting vehicles, consisted of ten armored
Alpha fighters, six Beta, four Gladiators, four Excalibers, 1
Spartan, and 2 Raidar X, all of the smaller REF type.  There were
also dozens of Cyclone troops, who were currently deployed on the
outskirts of the battle to serve as early warning in case Invid
reinforcements showed up.
     But the prize vehicle of the division was the MTA-Titan
transport vehicle, which was large enough to carry mecha within
itself.
     The hive forces were light, as this was merely an outpost,
in what once had been south Florida.  The REF force's commander,
Lt. Col. Avery Bowaz, felt that the best place to strike would be
at an outpost, where the defenses were thinnest.  Also, this hive
overlooked the finest crop of Invid Flowers, the source of the
Protoculture energy, for hundreds of miles.
 
     The Cyclone scout deployed on the southern tip of the
peninsula, about twenty miles away, saw it first.  He raised his
multi-optics binoculars to his face and gasped. Approaching from
the south was a gigantic column of water--or so he thought.
There was something that didn't look right about it...He switched
over to ultraviolet mode on the binocs.  And he saw that the
entire thing was glowing blue.  And it went straight up into the
sky seemingly without end.
     The trooper remembered something he'd read about a
mysterious area of the ocean just south of Florida, where ships
and planes had been disappearing for centuries.  Then it clicked.
"Omigodomigodomigod," he said.  "I'm outta here!"  He kicked in
the turbos on the Cyclone and burned rubber for the GMU.
 
     From the cockpit of the mighty vehicle, currently positioned
ten miles south of the hive, Lt. Col. Bowaz surveyed the battle
through computer reports and gunsight camera transmissions.  "It
seems to be going well, wouldn't you say?" he asked his XO,
Captain Steele.
     "It appears that we're winning."  Steele, about 28, observed
hesitantly.  He was always reluctant to make observations or
assertions until he was sure of the outcome.  "I had reservations
about sending such a small force up against a hive, even one this
small.  But it appears to be coming out all right."
     Just then, with much squealing of rubber, the scout rode up
into the mecha bay of the MTA-Titan.
     "What's that?" Bowaz asked.
     "I don't know, sir," Steele said.  "I'll find out."  He got
on the intercom to the trooper.  "We need to see you on the
bridge," he said.  He shut off the 'com.  "He says he's on his
way."
     Five minutes later, the Cyclone pilot made his appearance on
the bridge of the GMU (Ground Mobile Unit)/Titan.  "Sir, we gotta
get out of here," he panted. "There's some sort of wierd storm
coming this way!  Up off the Bermuda Triangle!"
     Bowaz turned to the young man to reassure him.  "Don't
worry, son," he said in his most fatherly voice (Though he was
only 44, his graying hair made him seem to be much older, a fact
he never belied, for it made him more acceptable as a father
figure to these young men).  "The GMU'll weather the storm.  Not
even a hurricane could hurt us."
     "Sir, I haven't told you what was strange about it yet," the
Cyc scout said.  He panted for a few seconds, then went on.
"That storm was real heavy in the ultraviolet, sir.  And it
didn't seem to have an end."
     "Oh, that's nothing to worry about," Bowaz said. "Storms on
earth ALWAYS give off ultraviolet."  He gave Steele a look that
said, "You'll back me up if you know what's good for you."
     "Yeah, yeah," Steele said.  "They always do."
     Bowaz reassured the young man some more and sent him down to
the dispensary for some coffee.  As soon as he was gone, Lt. Col
Bowaz said, "Well, Rem, what do you think?" Rem was Bowaz's
private name for Steele, based on an old 20th century detective
show he'd seen on the vid.
     "I think I'd better start calling in the fighters.  If there
really is a storm approaching, we need as many mecha as possible
under shelter."
     "Right, make it so.  I'm going to my quarters."  As Bowaz
left, Steele sent out the recall signal.  Then he moved down to
the science station and punched for a comprehensive scan of the
storm.  It was just a hunch, but hunches had a nasty way of
coming true.
 
 
 
Chapter 2: Transition
 
 
     As the mecha forces regrouped to weather the storm, Captain
Steele was examining the scan results worriedly. This storm was
giving off readings like he'd never seen. Steele was no science
officer, but he knew how a storm was supposed to scan.  And this
one was breaking all the rules.
     Radar didn't pick it up.  In fact, it picked up nothing at
all in that area or even behind it.  It was as if all the radio
waves were simply vanishing upon impact with the storm.  Laser
probes, same thing.  And some strange radiation was being emitted
from the center of the phenomenon.
     Steele hit the intercom button.  "Get me Lieutenant Martin
Jackson," he ordered the computer.  In about thirty seconds, it
beeped and Jackson came on-line.  "Sir?"
     "Lieutenant, get up here please.  I have some figures I need
interpreted by a scientific mind."
     "On my way."
 
     Five minutes later, the Lieutenant was on the bridge. He was
a young man of about 19, just out of Officers' Candidate School
on the SDF-3 before the journey to earth. He had a light
complexion, and a shock of unruly blonde, almost white, hair.
And he was a Field Scientist.
     By now the storm was clearly visible from the GMU. Several
mecha pilots were commenting on it, and some were even in favor
of leaving.  But none would violate his orders; they had been
trained too well for that.
     Jackson looked at the printouts, then looked up in
consternation.  "This thing, whatever it is, shouldn't exist."
     "Take another look.  It DOES exist, and it's bearing down on
us at approximately 23.2 knots, bearing 177x. It'll be on us in
less than half an hour."
 
     The storm relentlessly approached.  As it got closer, Steele
began to consider the possibility of evacuation.  The MTA-Titan
would easily make better than 24 mph, so they could keep ahead of
the thing.  The problem with that was that they would be easily
visible to the Invid.
     Man does not face the unknown easily, Steele reflected to
himself as the storm came ever-closer.  He fought down the urge
to hop in a plane or on a Cyclone and not stop until he reached
Canada.  Jackson, meanwhile, was ecstatic. "I'm going to be
famous!  They'll call it Jackson's Phenomena, or Jackson's
Storm."
     "Or Jackson's Bane," Steele suggested.  "Or Jackson's Doom,
or Jackson's Death, or..."
     Lieutenant Jackson ignored him, looking instead out the
window at the storm.  It now resembled a giant wall of blue,
glowing clouds.  Everybody could tell that it wasn't a normal
storm, but they all stood fast.
     "Look at that," Jackson pointed out.  "There's no wind or
anything.  The trees and grasses aren't stirring."  He ran to the
elevator.  "I'm suiting up in my Cyclone and going out there with
a scan dihilator."
     But he didn't get the chance.  As he hit the elevator
button, with a whoosh as loud as a hundred airliners passing
overhead the storm was upon them!
 
     An electric blue mist pervaded everywhere.  Time seemed to
slow down, and everything had a double-image.  This is just like
spacefolding, Steele thought.  He turned and hit some buttons on
the console.  No good.  All computer systems were locked.
     Steele could no longer see the ground, sky, or surrounding
landscape.  Oddly enough, he COULD see the Veritech and Destroid
mecha that were standing guard around the GMU.
     Time passed timelessly.  Had he been asked, later, how much
time the transition had taken, he could not have said whether it
was a minute, an hour, or a year.  All he knew was that one
instant all was blue, and the next they were in normal space
again.
     The first thing Captain Steele noticed was that the GMU was
sinking fast into the water.  "Help me here!" he yelled at
Jackson who was standing frozen in front of the elevator. "I have
to engage the propulsion systems!"  He jumped into the pilot's
seat and punched buttons.
     The GMU's built-in thrusters sputtered and came to life,
preventing the Titan from sinking into the sea. Lieutenant
Jackson helped with some of the controls, but wasn't really much
help.
     Lt. Col. Bowaz emerged from the elevator.  "What happened?
It can't have rained THAT much."
     "Sir, it didn't rain," Captain Steele said.
     "Eh?  What do you mean?"
     Lieutenant Jackson looked up from the sensor station. "Sir,
we passed through what seems to be a naturally-induced spacefold
field.  We are now somewhere...else."
     Steele gazed out the window.  They were floating in the
middle of some vast ocean.  The Alpha and Beta fighters were in
Guardian mode, hovering ten feet above the surface.  Of the
Destroids, there was no sign.
 
 
 
Chapter 3: Dinosaurs
 
 
     Fortunately, radio contact was soon reestablished with the
Destroid mecha.  They had sunk to the bottom of the sea, about
two to three hundred feet under, and would walk to shore and
rejoin the GMU and its Alpha escorts there.
     "Wherever that is," Lieutenant Jackson said gloomily.
     Captain Steele had moved over to one of the nav consoles.
"Radar indicates land about 40 miles to the north."
     Lt. Colonel Bowaz listened to the tale of the spacewarp.
"You mean, we're now on some other planet?" he said, as the full
import of the phenomenon hit him.
     "No, sir, we're not," Jackson said.  "At least, I don't
think we are."
     "Explain," Bowaz said.
     "This planet's gravity, magnetic field, atmospheric
composition, almost EVERYTHING, match up to Earth's norms to
within a thousand decimal places," the science lieutenant
explained.  "There's some unexplained electromagnetic and seismic
activity, but that's minor compared to these results.  And at
nightfall, I'll be able to get an astral fix by the stars.  But I
don't think it'll be necessary. Sir, we ARE on earth.  But
it's...different somehow."
     "Get the rest of the bridge crew up here," Bowaz said.
"Something tells me we'd better be at full defensive capacity for
the next few days."
 
     "Sir, we've got something on radar," the tech said.
"Something BIG."
     Bowaz was at the console instantly.  "What?  Where?"
     "There, sir."  The console operator pointed at the blip.
"Signature similar to certain Invid carnosaurs."  The tech was
referring to the Invid's genetic experiments which had produced
dinosaurs and similar life forms from the planet's past.
     "What's the range?"
     "22 miles."
     "Have an Alpha fighter check it out."
     "On it already, sir."
 
     The creature turned out to be a brontosaur-type beast,
placidly grazing in one of the shallower areas of the sea. Bowaz
gazed at the relay pictures thoughtfully.  "Could we be in the
interior of some sort of gigantic Genesis Pit?" he wondered.
"The Invid used them to create mutated life forms.  I've never
heard of one this big, though."
 
     When at last they reached land, the sun was beginning to go
down.  Colonel Bowaz posted perimeter guards, and even
participated in the first watch himself, in his Saber Cyclone
motorcycle/power armor.
     As the stars began to come out, Captain Steele noticed an
eerie blue glow on the horizon to the northeast.  He instructed
the GMU's main computer to analyze the light for possible
sources.  The computer cogitated for five minutes, then spewed
forth the answer: UNABLE TO OBTAIN QUANTITATIVE ANALYSIS.
POSSIBLE SOURCES INCLUDE PERYTONIAN "MAGIC" (5% PROBABILITY), ARC
LAMPS (3% PROBABILITY), PROTOCULTURE PLANT (2% PROBABILITY), OR
UNKNOWN (90% PROBABILITY).
     Steele was so involved in this work that he didn't notice
the stars themselves.  It was Lt. Jackson who said, "Hey, look!
Those stars are Earth's!"
     And it was true.  Out of the stars that weren't blotted out
by the glow, Steele could make out the Big Dipper, Orion, and
several other familiar constellations.  Jackson operated the
navigation computer.  "According to the star shots, we're in
about the middle of Florida.  Apparently the southern half of the
state is gone."  That was the second sign that all was not as it
seemed.
     "But what is that blue glow?" Steele wondered.
 
     At about midnight, the Destroids made their way ashore,
dripping water and slime from their submersion.  It was good that
they did, for an hour later the dinosaurs came.
 
     The tech who was working the radar noticed them first. "Sir,
we have thirty-plus blips on radar to the north, heading this
way," he said to the officer of the watch. "Speed, twenty-five
mph.  ETA, 5 minutes."
     "How did they get this close without being detected?" the
officer asked.
     "There's too much ground clutter to get a decent reading,"
the tech said, shoving the Mechanoids comic book under the
console with his foot.
     The officer hit the alert button on the communication
console.  Within one minute, 30 Cyclone riders, plus all ten
Alpha fighters, four of the six Betas, and all of the Destroids,
the non-transformable fighting machines, were up and ready for
combat.  In another minute, the other two Betas were fully
powered.
     Minutes later, thirty Tyrannosaurus Rex dinos thundered into
the area.
 
     These meat-eating mosters were big brutes.  Each was around
forty to fifty feet tall--twice as tall as an Alpha. Fighting was
tooth and claw.  Captain Steele in his Saber Cyclone managed to
decapitate three of them with the electro-force field CADS (Close
Assault and Defense System) blades, and destroyed two more with
mini-missiles from the breast compartments of the Cyclone.
     When the battle was over, two Cyclones had been damaged, but
nobody had been seriously hurt.  There was dinosaur meat lying
all around the camp, and some of the more enterprising soldiers
sliced off some of the less dirty portions and roasted them.
     "What other surprises do we have in store for us?" Colonel
Bowaz wondered.
 
 
 
Chapter 4: Encounter
 
 
     The next day, the force moved out of its previous
encampment, heading north.  Colonel Bowaz decided to keep to the
east side of the peninsula and then explore the interior of the
continent.
     As a precaution, Cyclone scouts were sent ahead, and the
battlegroup's two Recon Alpha fighters flew point. "Remember,
keep an eye out for danger," Bowaz needlessly admonished.  "We
don't know who or what is out here."
     They got their first inkling that trouble might lie ahead at
about ten a.m.  Corporal Felix Weidmann was riding through the
marshy ground about twenty miles ahead of the GMU.  He was
closely monitoring his short-range radar, for he didn't intend to
get caught by any dinosaurs if he could help it.
     Suddenly he noticed a blip coming from the north at about
120 mph.  It registered as being approximately human sized, at an
altitude of 150 feet.  He reported over the radio to the GMU:
"I've spotted a bogey.  Going aerial to investigate."  Weidmann
triggered the transformation, and the motorcycle reconfigured and
attached itself to his body armor, becoming a mobile power armor
suit.  The rifle-like cannon that had been mounted by the front
wheel was now in his right hand; and the rocket tubes that had
been on the hubs were now on his forearms.  Corporal Weidmann
jumped and engaged the boosters on the Cyclone's rear.  With a
whoosh, he shot up to a hundred and fifty feet and hovered there.
     The bogey was now in sight.  Felix gasped at the look of the
thing.  He could tell that it had to be some sort of flying power
armor, but what kind?  It was totally black except for a red
crest on the back of its head, and it had wings and air intakes
at the shoulders.  There were five spikes on each knee and elbow,
arranged in an "X" pattern, and there were aerial stabilizers on
each thigh to match the wings.  For weapons, it carried some sort
of long-barrelled rifle with an ammo-belt feeder leading back
around the right hip, and there was some sort of mini-missile
device built into the left forearm.
     But what struck Corporal Weidmann the most about the armor
was the shape of the helmet--a stylized, evil-looking skull.
     Weidmann described the thing quickly.  "It sure doesn't look
friendly," he said.
     "Try an all-frequencies broadcast," Lt. Col. Bowaz
suggested.  "It has to have a radio built-in.  Above all, don't
make any moves that could be interpreted as hostile."
     "I'm afraid it's too late for that," Weidmann responded as
the strange armor suit began to raise its rifle.  "He's already
making one."  Weidmann calmly dodged as the opposing gun fired,
and activated his targeting sensor.  It rose out of the right
shoulder and positioned itself in front of his eye, feeding him
precise data on the target.  The enemy (for thus had Weidmann
decided that it was) fired again, again missing the Cyclone
armor.
     Weidmann got a lock.  "Chew on THIS, pal," he muttered,
releasing all twelve of the Cyclone's armor-piercing
minimissiles.  The armor suit tried to dodge, but failed
miserably.  It exploded in a ball of flame!  Debris and chunks of
roasted flesh embedded themselves in the marsh below.
     Corporal Weidmann dropped to the ground to look at the
pieces.  As he neared the blast site, his Cyclone's built-in
dosimeter warned him that radiation levels were maxing out.
"Sheesh, these guys use nuclear power?  That's dangerous." But he
wasn't worried--even the body armor he wore beneath the Cyclone
power armor was impervious to radiation levels over twice as high
as this.
     One of the things Felix noticed was that the gun the armor
suit had carried, as well as the canister that the belt-feeder
was attached to, was lying on a mud bank, relatively intact.  He
went over to it and picked it up, sliding his EP-40 60mm pulse
cannon into the storage bracket on his left forearm plate.
     The gun was actually in great shape, considering it had
fallen 150 feet.  "I wonder if it'll still fire..." Corporal
Weidmann pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. Then he
noticed the severed power cord leading out of the rifle.  "Must
be a lead-in to the nuclear power plant of the armor," he
surmised.  "I'd better take it back to the GMU and have our
armorer take a look at it."
 
     "This is amazing.  Simply amazing," Sgt. Barry Irrout said,
examining the rifle inside the mecha garage facility of the GMU.
"In all my years as a Bio-Maintenance Engineer, I've never seen a
railgun this compact.  I can barely even recognize it."
     "Railgun?" Corporal Weidmann asked.  He, along with
Lieutenant Martin Jackson, Lieutenant Colonel Avery Bowaz, and
Captain Steele, was in the garage also, curious to see what he
had captured.  A team of three field scientists was currently
examining the rest of the wreckage, in the field.
     "Yeah, railgun," Jackson said.  "A kind of magnetic
acceleration device that fires metal slugs at hypersonic
velocities.  Kinetic energy released on impact is terrific."
     "They toyed with the concept in the early 1990's, I
understand, when the Global Civil War was in its opening stages,"
Captain Steele offered.  "As the costs of the war grew, they had
to scrap all their research projects to spend all the money they
could on the war effort.  When the SDF-1 arrived, they never got
around to much research.  Oh, the SDF and some experimental
M.A.C.-II destroids were fitted with railgun cannons, but I don't
think we ever came up with anything this small."
     "Correct.  And if this power pack I've jury-rigged works,
we're just about to see how powerful it really is," Irrout said,
raising the gun and pointing it out the open garage door.
     "Wait a minute," Weidmann said, taking the gun from his
hands.  "I'm the one wearing Cyclone power armor.  Why don't I
take the first shot?"
     He aimed the gun out at a nearby tree.  "Okay..."  The
targeting scope moved into position.  Weidmann fired.  The tree
was shredded.  "Wow!  That's as powerful as my EP-37." The
amazing power of this weapon left them all wondering what they
would encounter next.
 
 
 
Chapter 5: Magic
 
 
     As the convoy moved further and further north, the blue glow
Steele had noticed the night before became visible in the
daylight, finally presenting itself as a thousand-foot-high wall
spanning the horizon.  Alpha fighters sent ahead on recon
reported that the blue, glowing phenonena was about a half mile
wide and seemed to stretch from east to west across this part of
Florida.
     At last Steele commandeered a Recon Alpha and flew on up to
investigate the phenomenon himself.  He landed the Alpha by the
great blue glowing line, pulled off his flight helmet, and
climbed out.
     When he dropped to the ground, the first thing he noticed
was that there was another person here.  She was standing next to
the boundary of the line, looking up at the plane.
     Steele looked at her, did a double take, and then a triple
take.  This woman was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
Her body was well-endowed physically, with flesh in all the right
places.  The leather breeches and jerkin she wore were designed
to accent this, with slits and tucks in strategic locations.
     Her light blonde, almost white, hair fell to below her
waist.  Her pale yet robust complexion and sparkling ice-blue
eyes were very compelling, and Steele had to physically wrench
his head away to keep from staring.
     The woman spoke.  "That is an amazing vehicle," she said in
a delicately accented voice.  "I have never seen anything like
it."
     "Well...ah...it's a VAF-6R Alpha Recon Fighter, ah..."
Steele was amazed at himself.  He had just met the most beautiful
woman he'd ever seen in his life, and he was babbling inanely
about his Veritech fighter.
     "I am Sherelynn," the woman said.
     "Uh, Captain Steele of the um...er...Robotech Expeditionary
Force."  He tried hard to look at her without gawking, and wasn't
sure whether or not he was succeeding.
     She apparently noted his distress, and smiled.  "Many men
find me attractive.  Most of them were not as chivalrous about it
as you."
     Steele tried to change the subject.  "What is...this?" he
asked, sweeping his hand at the blue glowing wall of light.
     "You don't know?" she asked.
     "Well, they, er, don't have them where I come from."
     She scrutinized him.  "Ah.  You must be a D-Bee, then."
     "A what?" Captain Steele asked, puzzled.
     She cocked her head.  "D-Bee.  It's the current human slang
word for 'Dimensional Being,' a person or animal from another
dimension."
     Steele filed that away for future inquisition, then got back
to the blue phenomenon.  "And this?"
     "A ley line."
     "Huh?"
     The woman looked at him as if he were an ignorant child.  "I
suppose I will have to tell you the story from the beginning."
     And so they sat down together, and Sherelynn told Steele
about this different world that the GMU and its inhabitants found
itself in.  Through the tale, he sat so entranced by her beauty
that he hardly paid much attention at all to the story she was
telling.
     When Sherelynn finished her tale, Steele asked, "Could you
come back with me to our mobile base of operations and tell what
you just told me to my commanding officer?"
     She shrugged.  "Very well.  If you don't mind if I sit in
your lap on the way back--that cockpit looks rather small."
     Steele didn't mind.
 
     Steele had radioed in ahead of time that he was bringing a
guest.  What he had neglected to say was how beautiful the guest
was.  As he helped Sherelynn down from the cockpit of the Alpha
fighter, Steele was conscious of all the stares they were
getting.  All the male soldiers nearby were staring jealously at
him, and all the female soldiers were staring enviously at
Sherelynn.
     When they got to the briefing room, all the major officers
of the division had assembled, to hear what Sherelynn had to say.
"I had no idea I would be addressing such a large audience,"
Sherelynn said.
     "It doesn't bother you, does it?" Steele asked, feeling like
a fool as soon as he said it.
     "No.  It just surprises me.  But it is better this way...I
only have to tell my tale once more."
     Steele ushered her to her seat at the head of the table,
then took the seat to her left.  Lt. Colonel Bowaz, as the
highest ranking officer, sat to her right.  Lt. Jackson sat
farther down the table, as did Corporal Weidmann.
     Sherelynn began her story.
 
     "First of all, you must understand that you are no longer on
your world, or even in your dimension.  This world probably had
much the same history as yours, judging by the fact that you are
all human.  The same history, up to a point.
     "It all began several hundred years ago, by human
estimation.  Nobody knows exactly when.  A war was touched off,
using great weapons of mass destruction.
     "What the people did not know was that this war occured at a
time of a crucial conjunction of planets.  Thus, as all the
billions of people died, their psychic energy was channeled into
the countless ley lines that spanned the planet, causing them to
flare up.  With this magical awakening, many more people died; it
was a loop that fed back on itself.
     "When it was over, Earth had magic.  That blue disturbance
to the north is a ley line; magicians can draw magic from them.
But something came with the ley lines; something not usually
good. The Rifts."  She paused for dramatic emphasis.  "The Rifts
are dimensional portals, through which beings from other
universes may pass, and often do.  Some are human, like
yourselves...others are monstrous."  She shuddered.
     "Much of the continent of North America is now controlled by
the Coalition States, a tyrannical empire built on fear and
illiteracy.  You had best stay away from them, for they have
powerful forces, and this vehicle would represent an immense
prize to them."
     Corporal Weidmann spoke up.  "Would these forces wear black,
skeletal-looking power armor, and carry railgun rifles?"
     "Yes, they do," Sherelynn replied.  "Have you encountered
any?"
     "We destroyed one of them," Lt. Col Bowaz replied.
     "Then you may be in trouble," Sherelynn said.  "They have
far, far larger war machines, including robots and tanks."
     "With our mecha, I'm not worried," Weidmann said.
     "Hold on a minute, young lady," Bowaz said.  For some
reason, Sherelynn smiled when he said the words, "Young lady."
"You're telling us that we're actually in another dimension,
another universe than ours?"
     "Quite possibly another time, as well," Sherelynn said.
     "Then that means that I'm the acting commander of the REF,
as there is nobody in this universe who outranks me," Bowaz said
thoughtfully.  "This requires some thinking."
 
     The meeting was adjourned soon after that.  Steele showed
Sherelynn around the GMU, then offered to find her a room in
which to stay the night.  She declined.
     "Thank you, no.  I prefer to sleep in the wilderness," she
said.  "I must return to the woods soon, in fact, and I must go
alone.  But I will be back another time..."
     Steele tried to dissuade her, but when she looked at him,
all his arguments stuck in his throat.  She shouldered the
battered old backpack she carried and walked out of the camp.
 
 
 
Chapter 6: Glitter
 
 
     The next morning, as Col. Bowaz gave the order to move out,
the woman Sherelynn showed up again.  Steele was glad to see her.
     After excusing himself from the bridge, Steele showed her to
his private quarters.  As she removed her pack (moving in a way
that would have made a stone sit up and take notice), Captain
Steele noticed, seemingly for the first time, the large handgun
she wore at her waist.  "May I see that?" he asked.
     "Of course," she said, removing it from the holster and
handing it over by the barrel.  Steele nearly dropped it. "This
must weigh fifteen pounds!" he said.
     "Closer to thirteen, actually. But it's what I need." She
took hold of it and pointed out the features.  Steele peered
closely at it.  It was an angular weapon, with a small upper
barrel and a larger lower one.  There was a pump-action of some
sort on the lower barrel, and a curved clip feeding into the
back.  There was another clip slid into the pistol's handle.
"You see, it's a combination laser and grenade launcher."
     "It must have an immense kick to it," Steele said, handing
it back to her.
     "I can handle it," she said, and Steele didn't sense any
cockiness--it was as if she was merely stating a fact. He
wondered how it was possible that she could even carry it--she
didn't SEEM to have large muscles.
     "Where do you come from?" Steele asked, still trying not to
stare at her.  "What are you doing way out here in the middle of
nowhere?"
     Sherelynn shrugged.  "I was born in a land...very far away
from here.  I wander a great deal, and like to keep to myself.
This seemed like an ideal place, as there were no people within
miles and miles--only the dinosaurs, and they don't bother me."
Steele thought he got the impression that she was using "bother"
in the sense that meant "mess with" rather than in the sense that
meant "annoy," but dismissed it as ridiculous.
     "What do you do for a living?" he asked.  "I'm sorry for
asking so many questions, but I just want to know more about you.
You're a very...enchanting person."
     She chuckled, a tinkly laugh that sent shivers up and down
Steele's spine.  He was beginning to realize that he'd fallen,
and fallen hard for this girl.  "For a living? Actually, I don't
'work' exactly--not as you hu--people would define it.  I do hunt
occasionally, however."
     BEEP-BEEP!  BEEP-BEEP!  BEEP-BEEP!  The wrist-comm Steele
was wearing started going off.  "Yes?" Steele asked, irritated by
the distraction.
     "Sir, you're wanted at the cockpit," the tinny voice
proclaimed.  "There's something ahead of us you need to see."
     Steele thought a minute.  "I'll get to the mecha bay; it's
closer and my Cyclone's there."
     He started to leave the room when there was a horrifically
loud "WHOM!!!" and the whole room trembled. "Uh-oh," Sherelynn
said, drawing the gun.  "Wait a minute; I'm coming too."
     They ran down the corridors to the garage-like enclosure.
Steele asked into his wrist-comm, "What WAS that?!"
     "Sir, it was some kind of an, uh, warning shot, sir," the
bridge crewman said.
     "From what?!  That sounded like a sonic boom!"
     "Ah, sir, as near as the computer can figure out, it WAS."
     Steele entered the mecha bay and hurriedly suited up in his
Cyclone armor.  "Open the bay door and extend the ramp," he said.
     "But sir, that would breach integrity of the hull!  If that
thing creates another sonic boom, we'd all be deafened!" the
officer-on-watch said.
     "I don't care, just do it."  The soldier shrugged and pulled
the lever.  As the giant hatches slid open and the ramp slid out,
Steele converted to Cyclone Armor and tramped out.  Sherelynn,
with her pistol, was right behind him.
     "Perhaps you should stay inside..." he began.
     "Trust me, I can take care of myself," she said so
confidently that he began to believe she meant it.
     Steele stepped up, and got his first good look at the thing.
He gasped in astonishment.
     It was about a thousand feet away, and was being surrounded
by Cyclones.  It looked like some kind of robot. It stood about
eleven feet tall and seemed to be constructed almost entirely of
some chrome-type metal that reflected light almost perfectly.
There was a huge gun pod mounted on its right shoulder, and a
huge smoking hole in the ground about five hundred feet in front
of it.
     "That's Glitter Boy power armor," Sherelynn whispered to
Captain Steele.  "Created by the pre-Rifts U.S.A. for their
armored divisions.  Almost indestructible."
     "Is there a person inside that?" Steele asked.
     Sherelynn looked at him as if he were an idiot.  "Of course.
I said they're power armor."
     Steele shrugged.  "Just wanted to be sure."
     "I don't want any trouble," came a male voice out of a
loudspeaker somewhere on the Glitter Boy, "but I can probably
take out the lot of you if I have to.  So who wants to be first?"
     Steele turned to Sherelynn.  "Can he?"
     "He could probably destroy that armor you're in with one
blast of his gun."
     "I don't doubt it."  Steele activated his radio.
"Attention, all Cyclone Riders.  Stand down and back off.  I
repeat, stand down and back off."
     Though they appeared somewhat puzzled, the Cyclone Riders
did as ordered, lowering their weapons and backing off.  Steele
walked down the ramp and activated his own loudspeaker.  "I'm
sorry about that," he said.  "My men can get a little overzealous
when they perceive a possible threat to the GMU."
     The Glitter Boy shoved his gun down and back, so it rested,
muzzle pointing down, behind his shoulder.  "No harm done."  The
armor seemed to be peering at Steele's Cyclone. "Hmmm.  I've
never seen power armor of that type before."
     "That's rather mutual, I'm afraid," Steele said.  "We just
got in from another dimension ourselves."
     "Hmmm."  The Glitter Boy considered.  "That would explain
your strange armor and vehicles.  But I wouldn't go around
advertising that, if I were you.  It might make people
suspicious, if not overtly hostile."
     "I'll keep that in mind," Steele said.  Intuiting that the
Glitter Boy wasn't hostile, he thumbed the switch to change his
Sabre back to a motorcycle.  As he lifted the handlebars into
place and sat back down, the person in the Glitter Boy gasped,
seemingly unaware that he was still broadcasting.  "Wow!"
     "The miracles of Robotechnology," Steele muttered.
     "Robo-what?"
 
     Five minutes later, the GMU moved out again, with the
Glitter Boy aboard.  At first he had been suspicious, but the
chance to get a look at the transforming mecha had convinced him.
     The Glitter Boy pilot was a man of about twenty-five.  He
was about 5'11", with brown hair, glasses, and the beginnings of
a mustache.  He introduced himself as Joe Moore.
     Moore wore a customized flight suit that was tan, with dark
highlights.  In a shoulder holster he carried an energy pistol,
and slung on his back was an unusual rifle.  In a storage space
inside his armor, Steele had noticed, was a large duffel bag
which appeared to have some other weapons in it.
 
     Later on, in a small conference room, Sgt. Barry Irrout, Lt.
Martin Jackson, and Captain Steele met to debrief Moore, to
question him about this new world they suddenly found themselves
in.  Sherelynn was also present.  Col. Bowaz was absent from the
proceedings.
     "I understand your consternation," Joe Moore said.  "I was a
wee bit confused myself when I first arrived, and the adjustment
was pretty difficult, but I managed to survive."
     "You're a D-Bee yourself?" Steele asked.
     Moore winced.  "Please don't use that term; it has taken on
the qualities of an epithet from the Coalition's use of it.  But
yes, I came originally from another dimension.
     "I arrived about ten years ago.  I had just just graduated
from high school; it was 1995 a.d.  Don't ask me how it happened;
I have no idea myself.  All I know is that one morning I found
myself in this world, running for my life from an insane wizard.
I did eventually manage to escape, but that's a long story, and
perhaps would bear retelling at some other time.
     "For now, suffice it to say that in the end I found someone
who could help me, and I have managed to make my way quite nicely
in this world."
     "That's an interesting suit of power armor you have," Sgt.
Irrout, the Bio-Maintenance Engineer, said.
     "I should say so!" Lt. Jackson said.  He was holding a
clipboard computer in one hand and some kind of scientific
instrument in the other.  "I took a molecular density reading,
and the armor on that thing is amazingly strong!"
     "Oh?"  Steele took a look at the clipcomp.  "Amazing.
Nearly four times as resistant as Cyclone armor."
     "Apparently they made a good many advances in the field of
armor in this world," Steele guessed.
     "That's not all they made advances in," Joe said.
"Cybernetics, bionics, robotics--the Ancients, as they're called,
were amazingly advanced for their time...at least as compared to
my world."
     "Do you suppose that there's any chance of our making peace
with the Coalition?" Steele asked.
     Sherelynn, who had been sitting next to Steele listening,
recoiled as if struck.  "I can't believe what you're saying!" she
said in horrified tones.  "The Coalition is as brutal as the
ancient Nazi party!  They enforce a hunt-down-and-kill policy on
most D-Bees, and definitely distrust them all!  You should never
even consider such a thing!"
     Steele held up his hands.  "Relax, relax.  I was only asking
because Colonel Bowaz would want to know all our options.  I
would never support peace with them."  But privately, Steele was
wondering if Bowaz would feel the same way.
 
 
 
Chapter 7: Regis
 
 
     At the same time, thirty or forty miles away from the GMU's
present site, the Invid hive that the REF had originally been
attacking sat atop what had, in the other dimension, been a
ridge.  Now it was on a narrow peninsula, barely fifty feet above
the waterline.  It had made the transition also, unbeknownst to
the REF.
     Inside the hive was chaos.  The Invid, much more sensitive
to dimensional disturbances than humans, had been hit with the
equivalent of a psychic nuclear bomb.  More than half had
perished in the initial shock waves of the transition.  Half of
those that remained were in a comatose state, and would probably
stay in that condition for quite some time.  The Hive Brain was
also in a state of shock.
     Now those Invid that were left had finished gathering the
bodies of the dead together for disposal in a pyre. Their leader,
a humanoid Invid Prince named Bort, was in the brain chamber
concentrating desperately, or as close to desperately as was
possible for one who had never experienced emotion before.  He
had almost made contact once already; now, strengthened by the
passage of time, he was ready to try again.
     Bort typified the humanoid Invid type--tall, almost
handsome, with dark, shoulder-length hair.  He wore an expression
of arrogance, or would have had he not been so busy
concentrating.  All the Invid within the immediate area, even the
relatively primitive Scout drones, could feel the intensity of
Bort's mental signal.
     Then an answering signal shot through Bort's awareness like
a lightning bolt.  He stiffened, stood, and threw out his arms.
In his mind, a reverberating voice said, "CONTACT HAS BEEN MADE!"
 
     A column of ruddy light shot through the center of the
chamber.  A shadow appeared inside this pillar of fire.  It was
the psychic manifestation of the Regis, the mother of the Invid
race!  All the active Invid in the chamber were affected by her
mental presence, and the mere psychic energy given off was enough
to rouse some of the comatose Invid from their state and instill
a spark of consciousness into the stunned Hive Brain.  Though her
image was weak, all the Invid performed the alien equivalent of
genuflection; for the Regis was much more than just the mother of
the Invid, she was in a sense their creator, their god, the
literal essence of their species.  In short, the Regis WAS the
Invid.  She spoke, and her voice reverberated throughout the
entire hive.
     "Be at peace, my children, for I am with you," she reassured
them.  "I have seen your predicament, and know your location
amidst the myriad currents of space and time. Be assured, I have
not forgotten you.
     "However, I am not yet strong enough to bring you back, or
even to penetrate the fabric of time and space that separates us.
I must have much more Protoculture before I am able to do more
than maintain contact between us."
     From her own location a vast distance away in another
dimension, the Regis surveyed her childrens' predicament. She
could see only dimly the world in which the hive now found
itself; yet it seemed to her to have possibilities. Perhaps, if
it could be seeded with the Flower of Life, it might prove easier
to harvest than the Earth of this dimension that was still rife
with resistance to Invid domination.
     In moments, her decision was made.  Though she could not yet
physically penetrate the reaches of space and time that separated
her from her children, she could still supervise the hive's
functions.  She would direct the brain to increase the rate of
reactivation of the Invid in suspended animation to its utmost
maximum.  If this planet could be seeded, it might well prove to
be the salvation the Invid had hoped to find in Earth.  If not,
the loss was limited to just one Hive.
     But of course the Regis did not tell the stranded Invid all
of her plan.  She directed them, instead, to begin the
reanimation of the sleeping Invid.  "You must revive them now, to
commence the seeding of this planet with the Flower of Life! My
children, you MUST NOT FAIL in this.  This effort could prove to
be our salvation."
     Bort nodded.  "Your will shall be done, Regis."  And with
those words, a plan was set in motion that could prove to be the
downfall of this alternate earth.
 
 
 
Chapter 8: Transport
 
 
     After the meeting was over, Steele took Moore down to the
mecha bay for a first-hand look at the Cyclones.  Barry Irrout
explained how, due to the special power source, they were able to
evince such remarkable versatility.  Joe looked it over, examined
the Cyclone closely, and remarked, "This is new.  This is VERY
new," several times.
     The technicians scoping out the Glitter Boy armor (with
Joe's express consent and supervision) were saying much the same
thing, though in different (and usually highly technical) terms.
     Sgt. Irrout was particularly interested in the massive
cannon mounted to the GB's right shoulder.  Moore let him take a
couple of the weapon's access panels off, and he was amazed at
what he saw.  "This is another railgun type weapon, and it's the
most powerful one I've seen yet.  Amazing!  But the sonic boom it
creates must be immense!"
     Joe nodded.  "Yeah.  You'll notice, the armor itself is
specially insulated against the shock waves."
 
     Getting bored with all the techno-talk, Steele and Sherelynn
wandered up to the GMU's control room.  Bowaz was in the pilot's
seat, not actually doing much as the GMU was currently set on
auto-pilot.  Steele really doubted that Bowaz COULD do much in
the area of piloting the big vehicle anyway; he just sat there
for show.
     Steele and Sherelynn took seats next to each other at one of
the minor stations near the back of the bridge.  There were many
vacant stations, because of the deaths that had occured among the
bridge crew, as well as among everyone else, back on the earth of
their own dimension, against the Invid.  For a moment, Steele
wondered about that hive they'd been attacking.  Had they, too,
made the transition?  It might be worth checking out...then
Steele took one look at Sherelynn and forgot all his conjectures.
     She was so beautiful, all of the women Steele had ever been
with, or even seen, paled by comparison.  Her body was too
perfect for words, her smile brightened up the entire room, and
her eyes gazed alluringly back at him, hinting at something that
Steele found very, very inviting...
     Then their private moment was interrupted by a loudly
blaring klaxon alarm.  Bowaz, who had fallen asleep, now nearly
fell out of the chair.  "Shut off that infernal racket!" he
yelled to the radar operator, who was nearly frightened out of
her wits.
     "Yessir," she said, pressing the switch.  The alarm shut
off, but the entire bridge had been stirred into activity.
     Steele ran up to the front, with Sherelynn right behind him.
"What is it?" he demanded.
     "Large object, closing fast," she reported.  "Speed is Mach
One, range is 40 miles.  It's about as large as a small passenger
jet, sir."
     "Can you get a visual image?" Sherelynn asked.
     "I'll try," the young woman said.  She fiddled with the
controls for a few seconds.  "There."  The image came up on the
screen.  Sherelynn gasped.  The thing resembled a railway car
with a giant skull on the front and cannon turrets mounted to top
and bottom.  There was also some type of hover platform attached
there.
     "It's a Coalition transport!" Sherelynn said.  "You must
destroy it!"
     "Wait just one minute, young lady," Bowaz said.  "You say we
should shoot that thing?  But it hasn't shown any signs of
hostility yet, and..."
     "Believe me, it will, it will!" Sherelynn pleaded.  "You
must destroy it and not give it a chance to shoot first!"
     BEEEEEEEEEP!  The warning tone jerked their eyes back to the
radar screen just in time to see four smaller blips separate from
the large blip that represented the Coalition Transport.  "Radar
reports multiple missile launch," the female radar operator
reported calmly.  Steele swore and dashed over to the weapons
station.  With one hand, he keyed the small particle beam turret
mounted on top of the cockpit to lock in on the missiles and
knock them out of the air.  With the other, he pulled down on a
lever surrounded entirely in red.
     Atop the GMU, monstrous panels began to slide open, and
other components moved into place to stabilize.  The vibrations
could be felt throughout the entire Ground Mobile Unit as the
gigantic laser cannon built for taking out starships elevated and
locked into place.  "Eat LIGHT, you--" he muttered as his finger
stabbed the firing switch.
     The laser fired a mighty blast, and the Coalition transport
exploded.  "Enemy completely neutralized," the radar tech
reported.
 
     Sherelynn and Steele were in a small conference room, all
thoughts of romance forgotten.  They'd excused themselves from
the bridge, leaving Lt. Col. Bowaz to his command duties.  "We
destroyed the transport," the woman muttered.  "But the question
still remains, what was it doing there?"
     "It was after us, wasn't it?" Steele asked.  "Or else, it
was out on patrol."
     Sherelynn shook her head.  "No, that's not it.  They don't
patrol that heavily down here, and I hardly believe that killing
one SAMAS soldier would bring that."
     "Then what?" Steele asked.  "Another dimensional invasion?"
     "It might be..."  Sherelynn shook her head.  "No, it isn't.
I sense something about ten miles east of here."
     "You what?" Steele asked.
     "I can't explain how," Sherelynn said.  "My kind--I mean, I,
have psychic abilities, among which is clairvoyance.  It seldom
fails me."
     "Hmmm.  Do you think we should check it out?"
     "Anything that disturbs the Coalition so that it sends a
transport might be worth checking into," Sherelynn said.
     "Very well, I'll get a squad on it right away."  As he left
the room, he wondered momentarily why he was suddenly so quick to
implement her suggestions.
 
 
 
Chapter 9: Rescue
 
 
     Captain Steele ordered a squad of fifteen Cyclone scouts to
take a look around the area to the east, then walked out on a
small catwalk on the starboard side of the GMU, which was still
making its way north.  Sherelynn was already standing there, lost
in reflection.  "I sent some Cyclone troopers to check it out,"
Steele said, moving closer to her.
     She nodded, then checked the chronometer on her wrist.
"Captain Steele, I must go now.  I have to get back to the
forest."
     "But why?  I just sent out some troopers to check that area
for you.  Don't you want to hear what they have to say?"
     "I suspect I already know what it will be," Sherelynn
replied.  "Do not fear for me.  I am expert in the forest--it's
where I really belong.  I will return tomorrow."  With that, she
vaulted over the railing.
     "No, wait!" Steele yelled, but it was too late.  He watched
with astonishment as Sherelynn landed, 40 feet below, with the
grace of a cat.  She turned, waved, and dashed into the
jungle/forest about two hundred feet away.
     Steele sighed, bemused.  He decided to take a Recon Alpha
out over the forest, since there was really no reason for him to
remain here anyway and he was interested in what might be lurking
over there.  Though he didn't admit it, even to himself, he also
hoped he might be able to catch a covert glimpse of Sherelynn out
there.
     Over the forest, Steele engaged the scanning systems built
into his bird.  "Now let's just see what we get," he muttered.
     It wasn't long before the radar monitors began pinging.
"What's this?  I'm reading a concentration of metallic objects
registering just behind that ridge."  He radioed back to the GMU,
then increased his altitude some, to get above the cloud layer.
The clouds would provide visual cover for him, and he could use
the down-looking IR scanners to get a picture of what was going
on.  He switched to the V/STOL (Vertical/Short Take-Off and
Landing) thrusters in the Alpha's underside so he could get a
good image.
     The way the computer analyzed the images and spat them out
on the HDD (head-down display, as opposed to the head-up display
used for targeting), there was a massive force of infantry and
robots attacking a small fortification built into the side of a
hill.  Tentative ID registered as Coalition SAMAS power armor
(the exact characteristics had not yet been programmed into the
ident computers), plus some of the larger units that could be,
from Sherelynn and Moore's descriptions, Coalition UAR-1 Urban
Enforcer robots and Coalition Spider Skull Walkers.  The Urban
Enforcer's main recognable feature was the gigantic rail cannon
built into its right shoulder; the Spider Skull was almost
exactly what its name suggested--a great big skull on six
metallic legs, with railguns and other weaponry built in.
     Many of the smaller units were not registering the body heat
that footsoldiers, even armor-clad ones, would normally be giving
off.  They had to be some sort of robot.  Moore had mentioned
something about Coalition autonomous robots, though he hadn't
gone into specifics.
     All the forces were firing their weapons at the fortified
hill, and Steele could tell that it wouldn't be long until the
hill fell.  Most of the automated cannons had been destroyed now,
and the only other sign of resistance was laser rifle fire from
slits in the side of the hill.  "The hell with this," Steele
muttered.  "I can't just stand by and let the Coalition destroy
this place."  He shoved the throttle forward, switched the
thrusters to rear-vector, and instructed the computer to go for
target lock.
     The Alpha swooped in, surprising a lot of troops.  The tone
sounded in the cabin to indicate target lock, and Steele let four
of his missiles go, then four more.  Two surprised Enforcers blew
sky-high.  He easily dodged fire from a Spider Skull as he
rocketed past the clearing, then came back around and took out
two more enemy robots.
     "Okay, time to lay my card on the table."  Steele reached
forward with his right hand and pulled back on the mode-changing
lever.  In seconds, the Alpha fighter had become an Alpha
Battloid, GU-XX 35mm tri-barrel gun pod in hand.  "Eat THIS,
Coalition jerk-offs."  With cannon fire, he took out five of the
smaller robots, then dived to the right to avoid a missile fired
from an Urban Enforcer.
     "Oh, do you want to play rough?  All you had to do was ask!"
Steele fired eight more of his missiles, and more enemy robots
were destroyed.
     From across the clearing, Steele heard more gunfire.  It was
the Cyclone unit he'd dispatched earler, coming to his aid.
However, against several hundred Coalition robots, the outcome
would be chancy, at best.  Steele riddled a few more robots with
his cannon, dodged flak from two Urban Enforcers, then called for
reinforcements.  "Captain Steele calling Ground Mobile Unit.
Captain Steele calling Ground Mobile Unit.  Have encountered
hostiles; need immediate reinforcements. Repeat, have encountered
hostiles; need immediate reinforcements. Coordinates--"  Steele
dodged another missile attack and countered with a few missiles
of his own.  "Coordinates Tango Lima Delta 47.  Urgent, repeat
urgent.  Steele out."
     Within minutes, the main force of Alpha and Beta fighters
had arrived.  As they used more missiles to put down the hostile
force, Steele was free to slip around behind the fortified hill
in his Alpha Battloid, to try to find a way in.
     In all, the hill was about two hundred feet tall.  There was
a large metal door at the base, about thirty feet tall.  Steele
knew that the Alpha would fit through, easily.  He just had to
find a way in.
     As he was pondering the question, one of his subordinates
radioed to him, "Sir, the enemy is breaking through.  We can't
hold them much longer."
     "Roger.  I'll be fast."  There was no time for subtlety
here.  Hoping no civilians were behind the armor plate doors,
Steele executed a jump-kick with the thirty-foot Battloid that
caved them in.  He stepped in, broadcasting over his
loudspeakers, "I come in peace!  Don't shoot!  I'm here to
evacuate everybody before the Coalition breaks through and
destroys you!"
     "Up here!" someone yelled.  Steele looked around.  He seemed
to be in some kind of gigantic repair bay, with robot parts
scattered all around.  Steele looked up, and saw two humans
standing on a metal catwalk about level with the Battloid's head.
Steele extended the Alpha's hand, and they climbed on.  "Are you
the only ones here?" Steele asked.  They nodded.
     "Who are you?" one asked.
     "That'll have to wait until later.  Right now, we've got to
get you out of here."  Steele switched to Guardian mode and
skated out the door.  "Okay, I'm clear," he said over the radio.
"Give 'em one last blast and let's get out of here."
     Soon the Alphas had withdrawn at supersonic speeds.  It had
been agreed that they'd break in different directions and circle
around to get back to the GMU, so they couldn't be tracked there.
Steele was the only one who flew directly back.  He wanted to get
the two people he'd rescued safely aboard, for debriefing.
     But it seemed that incidents were the order of the day, for
the instant he left the clearing, two fast-moving blips showed up
on the scope.  They were some sort of sky cycles, like in an old
sci-fi vid Steele had seen once.  And they were firing missiles.
     Steele was limited by the presence of the two men in his
Alpha's hand--he couldn't perform high-G dodging maneuvers lest
he inadvertantly injure them.  He loosed some missiles of his
own, but the two bikes blasted them out of the air.  It was
beginning to look pretty serious for Steele, when suddenly help
arrived--from an unexpected quarter.
     One minute the air was clear; the next it was there.  A
great bluish-white dragon was gliding through the air, barely
fifty feet away.  It angled its gigantic head toward the two sky
bikes and let out a blast of frost from its mouth.  The engines
of the bikes froze (and so did the pilots), and they dropped
toward the forest below.
     Steele said over the loudspeakers, "I don't know who, or
even what you are, but thank you."
     The dragon nodded, as if in acknowledgement, and banked
away.  Steele gazed after it in awe, for it was truly a beautiful
creature, aesthetically.  It looked like the ones he'd seen in
old fantasy vids, only it had a more majestic air to it.  Steele
wondered why he had the feeling he'd seen it before.  "Probably
because of those movies," he muttered, heading for the GMU.
     He made it without further incident.  Upon landing, he
jumped out of the cockpit to meet in person the two people whose
lives he'd saved.
     One of these people was a young man, in his early twenties.
He had dark hair and eyes and a rebellious expression on his
face.  He wore a home-made leather vest and pants, a woolen
sweater, and combat boots; a canvas utility belt with multiple
compartments, holster included, was at his waist; and he carried
a small leather duffle and a canvas knapsack that obviously
contained tools.
     The other was an older man, in his fifties and balding..  He
wore a slightly dirty labcoat, glasses, and a pocket protector,
and the bulge under his left shoulder seemed to indicate a
holster of some sort.
     The younger one had one of his hands on the side of the
Alpha and wore a slightly zoned-out expression.  "Man!" he said.
"This is quite some machine.  Reconfiguring modular construction,
telepathic control system, and a power source that I can't quite
get a line on."
     Steele gawked, for he had just described the Alpha without
having even been inside of it.  Of course, it could just be lucky
guesses...
     "Jack has a strange psychic ability that lets him
communicate with machines and intuit their inner workings," the
older man explained.  "I find it very strange, myself, but the
workings of the human mind, especially in these times of magic,
may well exceed the expected."  Then he realized that they hadn't
introduced themselves.  "I'm Thornton Smitty, doctor of robotics,
and this is my assistant, Jack."  He held out his hand to Steele,
who took it.
     "I'm Captain Steele, Robotech Expeditionary Force."  His
introduction seemed to be lost on the man, who was gazing
wistfully off to the east.
     Jack disengaged himself from the machine and turned to
Smitty.  He pointed to his wristwatch and said softly, "Thornton,
it's time."
     The scientist nodded and turned away.  "Do what you must."
     Jack turned to Steele.  "Captain, are all your men out of
the viscinity of the hill?"
     "Yes," Steele replied.
     "Good."  The young man flipped up the face of the
wristwatch, which proved to be a false front, and pushed a red
button beneath it.  There was a gigantic explosion from the east,
and as Steele turned and looked, he could see a mushroom cloud
rising.  Jack pulled off the watch and threw it away.  "It's
useless now," he explained.
     "What did you just do?" Steele demanded.
     "I activated the self-destruct I'd rigged on our base," the
young man said.  "What's it to you?"
     "We had been working on new theories of robotics," Smitty
explained sadly.  "We couldn't let that advanced technology fall
into Coalition hands."  He was clearly broken up about it.
     "Don't let it bother you, Dr. Smitty," Steele said.  "I have
a feeling that the robotics you're ABOUT to see will make the
robotics you'd been working on look like children's toys."  He
led them up to the now-halted GMU, and they went inside.
 
 
 
Chapter 10: Fracas in the Library
 
 
     Dr. Smitty was amazed when he got into the mecha bay.  "What
is this?" he asked.  "I have never seen a repair and storage
facility of this caliber outside of the Coalition.  And these
vehicles--I've never seen the like."
     "That's because they're not from this dimension," Jack said
sullenly.  "They're D-Bees."
     "What?!  You're sure?" Smitty turned to him.
     "Positive.  I read the mem banks on that fighter plane."  He
nodded at Steele.  "Quite a machine."
     "Uh, thanks."  Steele wasn't quite sure what to think of
this Jack person.  Had he really been able to tap into the
Alpha's flight computer, just by touching the plane's skin?
Steele didn't believe it, but there didn't seem to be any more
logical solution.
     As they passed by one of the GMU's REF Gladiators, in for
servicing Thornton stopped and asked, "May I?"  He pointed at one
of the open access panels, and it was obvious he wanted a closer
look.  Steele sighed.  "Well, it's against regulations..."
     Sgt. Barry Irrout showed up.  "What's against regulations?"
     "Dr. Smitty here, a robot scientist, wanted to have a look
at the Destroid."
     Irrout shrugged.  "I don't see any harm in it, as long as
he's supervised."
     "Hey, what about me?" Jack asked.
     "Oh, you can hang around too," Steele decided.  "We won't
need to debrief you until later."  He left the room, covertly
assigning one of his Cyclone troopers to keep an eye on the two
newcomers.
     That evening, in the small cubicle that passed for an
Officer's Lounge, Steele sipped some coffee while reviewing on a
small portable terminal the statistics of the days's battle.
According to the computer tally, the fighter forces had been able
to take out fifty to seventy percent of the Coalition forces, and
the nuclear explosion had almost certainly demolished the rest.
The average number of kills per fighter was 19.7.  Average per
Cyclone was 8.2.  The REF forces had suffered minimal casualties,
with the loss of one Cyclone and moderate damage taken to one
Alpha.  "Not too bad," Steele thought.  He turned off the
computer and flipped down the screen.
     But his thoughts returned to the dragon, an ice dragon he'd
decided.   He had never seen such a thing before, and was still
having difficulty believing it to be real.  "I wonder if we'll
meet again," he muttered.
     His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of energy blasts.
Grabbing his Gallant pistol, Steele ran toward the sound--then
stopped.  He didn't want to run right into the combat.  He didn't
even have CVR armor on.
     Steele decided to take the back way--through a series of
bulkhead tunnels designed to provide access to the mobile wheel
units and escape hatches.  He opened a bulkhead door that said
"FOR EMERGENCY USE ONLY" and made his way into the dimly lit
metal tunnel.  The clanging sound of boots on metal echoed down
the tunnel as Steele dashed down a short stairway.
     The gunfire had settled down, though every once in a while
there was a loud KA-CHOOM sound as some heavy energy weapon
discharged.  In seconds, Steele was at a hatch that he placed
about right behind the gunman with the loud weapon.  He carefully
turned the wheel set into the door, hoping that it wouldn't
squeak and give him away.  By some miracle, it turned silently.
Steele slowly pushed open the door and looked out into the GMU's
small but comprehensive CD/comp library.
     The gunner was Jack.  He was kneeling behind a metal console
bank that offered some protection and firing the heavy energy
pistol that he'd carried in his belt over the heads of some
CVR-clad guards.  "You just stay back there," he was yelling.
Steele observed with some trepidation how much damage the pistol
was causing.  The ceiling bulkheads were made of 6-inch-thick
polymer armor, but there was already a medium-sized hole there.
     Steele went online with his Gallant and put a shot into the
floor to Jack's left.  "You just put the gun down right now."
Jack did as he was instructed.  "Now stand up really slowly."
     Steele picked up the gun and stuck it into his belt, making
sure that the safety was set and the muzzle was not pointing
straight down.  "Now I want to know just what's going on here,"
he demanded of the guards.
     "We found him in here, sir," one of them said, "and told him
to halt.  He ignored us, and I fired a warning shot.  Then he
pulled his gun and started shooting at us."
     Steele looked around.  "I wasn't aware that the library was
a restricted area."
     "But sir, the bulkhead door was locked and sealed, because
the librarian was off duty," the other guard said.  "There's no
way he could have gotten in here without breaking in, and we were
going to question him."
     Steele looked at Jack, who stared back sullenly.  "What were
you doing in here?"
     "I wanted to get some information on the history of the
dimension you come from.  I figured the library was the best
place to start.  Then, next thing I know, these goons are firing
at me."
     "But how did you get in if the door was locked?" Steele
demanded.
     Jack shrugged.  "Wasn't locked for me."
     Steele sighed and looked around at the damage.  There were
burn marks on the walls of the library, one console had been
perforated by gunfire, and there was that hole in the ceiling.
"Way to go, guys," he addressed the guards.  "You handled a
'minor break-in' and only managed to destroy one console, the
ceiling, and the walls.  Maybe you'll get to the floor next time,
eh?"  He noted the names on their armor.  "I'll deal with you
later.  Dismissed!"  The guards stumbled over themselves in their
eagerness to get out of there.
     Steele turned to Jack.  "And as for you, you're on probation
for the next few days, mister.  If I hear about any more
incidents like this, you're in the brig."
     "What about my gun?" Jack asked.
     "I'm keeping it, for now," Steele replied, walking out of
the library.
 
 
 
Chapter 11: Invid
 
 
     Fifty or sixty miles away from the GMU convoy, a small
division of Invid mecha was sweeping the countryside.  This
division consisted of four Invid Armored Scout ships and one
Shock Trooper.
     These Invid were following Bort's directive--to secure for
the Invid one of the mysterious blue walls of energy that
infested this new land.  Though the Invid Regis had not made any
comments regarding these disturbances, Bort thought it worthwhile
to investigate.
     DISTURBANCE SIGHTED, the trooper thought back to the Hive.
AWAITING FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS.
     Guidance came in the form of a message from Bort.  "Secure
the area.  Destroy any humans or other threats."  As there were
no humans in the area, the deed was done in a very short time.
     Next, a troop of Enforcers, the Invids' version of power
armor, arrived.  With them came one of the Hive's other
humanoids, a scientist named Zyjinn.  Zyjinn walked into the
glowing area, despite protests from the Enforcer troop.
     Zyjinn suddenly felt raw power flowing through his body.
"This is amazing," he thought.  "It's as though the Regis herself
were here.  I feel as strong as the Regis!"  Then, shocked at
such sacreligious thoughts, he hurriedly ran back out of the
line.
     "These walls of light, these--these LINES, are beyond my
comprehension," Zyjinn reported to Bort.  "They seem to be
composed of latent psychic energy."
     "Of what use could they be?" Bort, at his throne in the
Hive, wondered.  "Why would the humans have put them there?"
     "I am of the opinion that they are a natural phenomenon,"
Zyjinn said.  "I cannot think why this earth would have them and
the one we came from would not, however."
     "Would they interfere with the growth of the Flower of
Life?" Bort queried.
     "I believe that they would," Zyjinn replied.  "I cannot be
positive; however, our experiments with the Flower of Life on
Garuda and Peryton would seem to indicate that psychic energy
present in this magnitude interferes with the Flower's life
cycle."
     "I will defer to your opinion in this matter," Bort decided.
"We will begin setting up test farms in locations distant enough
for you to consider safe immediately.  Please return to the Hive
for consultation."
     Zyjinn did, though he cast a wistful eye on the ley line.
Never before had he felt such raw power.  Then he got his--were
they EMOTIONS?! (Unthinkable!) under control, and marched off
with the Enforcers.  His first duty was, after all, to the Hive.
 
     In the mean time, two days passed for the GMU.  It rolled
further and further north, passing by villages and single
habitations.  In most of these, the people huddled, scared, in
their huts until the GMU had rumbled past.  In one, people fired
energy weapons at the GMU (not doing it any significant damage).
     Thornton Smitty and Jack proved to be an asset to the GMU;
for Smitty knew a great deal about the current state-of-the-art
in robotics (Sgt. Irrout spent a great deal of time with him,
pumping him for information on current designs), and Jack was an
expert mechanic, both robotic and otherwise.  Even Irrout was
astonished.  "That man has a genuine affinity for machines," he
confided to Steele.  "I have seen him repair machines simply by
whacking them once or twice with a wrench, and reprogram balky
computers with little more than a touch.  I tell you, if he isn't
psychic, I don't know what he IS."  Jack worked in the mecha bay
a great deal, "to keep in touch with the machines."  Of course,
Colonel Bowaz initially balked at this, saying, "He could be an
enemy agent, a spy, for all we know!  And you're letting him work
around our Robotech mecha?!"
     Only when Steele promised to keep a close eye on Jack did
Bowaz relent.  "Remember that library incident.  If something
else like that happens, he goes into the brig!"
     Steele hadn't mentioned his doubts that Jack could even be
KEPT in the brig.  He seemed to gain access to computers,
regardless of access codes or other restrictions, merely by
touch.  And with computer-actuated code locks on the brig cells,
there was probably nothing that could be done.
     Sherelynn hadn't returned in those two days.  Steele was
getting worried.  He kept seeing that luscious body dead in a
ravine with a knife sticking out of it, or in the bloody jaws of
some wild animal.  Finally, Steele took his Cyclone and rode out
looking for her.
     However, it was not Sherelynn that he eventually found. He
had pulled into a clearing to rest when three familiar-looking
shadows passed overhead.  Steele looked up--and gasped.  Invid
Shock Troopers.  But what were they doing here?!  It didn't
matter; if Steele could get off a few lucky shots they'd be dead.
He fired his thrusters and leaped up into the air.
     The Invid detected the Protoculture expenditure and turned
as one.  Steele fired a blast from his EP-37 pulse cannon that
took the first Shock Trooper through the middle of its sensor
eye.  It fell, leaking green fluid.
     The other two Troopers, however, both got off shots, which
Steele dodged by the skin of his teeth.  Another blast from the
cannon, and a second Shock Trooper fell.
     But the third one was more savvy than the other two.  It
dodged all of Steele's shots, then returned fire with one of its
own.  BOOM!  Steele's Cyclone tumbled out of the air, and his
left side felt like it was on fire.
     The Saber Cyclone crashed through the trees to land in a
small stream on the ground.  Steele staggered to his feet and
forced himself to look down at where he'd been hit.  Sure enough,
blood was seeping through a hole in his armor.
     Steele staggered.  The pain and blood loss was making him
weak.  Above him he saw the Shock Trooper's shadow through the
trees.  It was searching for him, and almost had a fix.
     "Well, fix this!" Steele gasped weakly, locking onto the
Trooper with his shoulder targeting system.  He triggered all
twelve of the concealed mini-missiles in his chest.  The Invid
was completely destroyed.
     Steele staggered to the edge of the stream, and climbed out.
He tried to engage his boosters, but he was too weak to stabilize
properly and crashed to a landing in the trees.  He got up and
stumbled a few more steps, then collapsed on the ground.  He
passed out, as his blood seeped out to turn the sandy soil red.
 
 
 
Chapter 12: Full-Scale Attack
 
 
     Corporal Felix Weidmann and Glitter Boy Joe Moore had become
good friends.  Joe often accompanied Felix on the perimeter
patrols after dark, and would sometimes let Felix try piloting
the Glitter Boy (in exchange for the same privileges with Felix's
Cyclone).
     Now they were both sitting in the cafeteria, discussing
robotics, alternate dimensions, and life in general over bowls of
the GMU's singularly unappetizing vegetable beef soup.  Moore had
just eaten some of it, then threw down his spoon.  "Eugh!  This
reminds me of what we had at Parkview!" he said in disgust.
     Weidmann was looking down the table at Jack, who had just
gotten something from the cafeteria's autodispenser.  Moore
followed his gaze.  "Yeah, he is a strange one," he said,
divining Weidmann's thinking.
     "What I'd like to know is how he got the vender to give him
pizza when it wasn't even on the menu!" Weidmann muttered.
     "Huh?  Hmmm."  Moore leaned back in his chair, thinking.
"From what I've seen of him, I'd have to say that he's an
Operator."
     Weidmann turned to Moore.  "Huh?  What's that?"
     "A person who knows 'the secrets of the old ones,' at least
where it comes to machinery.  Very secretive, and it's been said
that some of them have psychic powers that enable them to
mentally interact with machines.  'Telemechanics,' they call it,
but as to what it really is, your guess is as good as mine."
     "Well, he must know SOME secrets.  I didn't even know that
thing MADE pizza."  Weidmann picked up his tray and stood up.
"What do you say we go and pay our man Jack a visit?"
     "I have no problem with that," Moore replied, following
suit.  They walked down the table and took the empty seats to
either side of Jack.
     "Hello," Felix said.  "We saw you down here and decided to
pay you a visit.
     "Leave me alone," Jack muttered, concentrating on his food.
     "I understand your name is Jack," Joe said.  "Jack what?"
     "Just Jack," the Operator replied.  "As in 'of all trades.'"
     Felix nodded.  "Is Dr. Smitty a good friend of yours?"
     "We've known each other on and off for several years.  Look,
why this interrogation?  I've already been 'debriefed' by your
brass.  Can't you just leave me alone, let me eat in peace?"
     "Okay, okay."  Joe and Felix moved back up to their original
positions.
     "So what do you think?" Felix Weidmann asked Joe Moore.
     "I think it might be best if we kept an eye on him for the
next few days."  Felix agreed.
 
     The next day, as the GMU rolled on up the state, Lt. Col.
Bowaz called a halt.  There was an obstacle ahead, a gigantic
chasm that had probably been caused by an earth movement in the
wake of the coming of the Rifts.  "Funny, I read in an old
fantasy book somewhere about there being a great chasm across
Florida," Weidmann muttered.  "By Piers Xanthony, or something."
     Bowaz had called the halt because the only way across would
be to activate the GMU's hover thrusters and fly over--but he
didn't know how.  He needed to dig up the manuals that he'd never
bothered to go over before, and try to teach himself how to run
the thing.  "We could be here for DAYS," Field Scientist Martin
Jackson confided to Joe Moore.  "If only Captain Steele was
here--he's the only one who's really expert at thrust maneuvers."
Steele had been missing for several days.  Search parties had
failed to find any traces of him.
     None of the REF troops was aware of it yet, but an Invid
Scout was in the chasm, watching them.  And it was relaying what
it saw back to the Hive.
     The Regis, who had managed to make psychic contact once
more, viewed the transmission of the human mecha with great
interest.  "Eliminate these Robotech Rebels!" her voice
reverberated throughout the Hive.  "Eliminate them!"
 
     A detachment of Invid Royal Command Battloids and Pincer
Command Units was to destroy the REF detachment.  It flew north
until it reached the chasm, then flew along inside it, for cover.
The first sign the REF had of the impending attack was when it
emerged from the great crack, cannons warming up.  Fortunately,
the REF had not been lax about its perimeter patrols.  Enough
Destroids and Veritechs were available to knock back the first
wave and give the rest of the troopers time to get to their
mecha.  Klaxon alarms sounded throughout the ship.
     In the repair bay, mechanics rushed to ready the remaining
mecha for combat duty.  Felix Weidmann was pulling on his armor
as Joe Moore ran up to say, "What is it?!"
     "Invid attack," Weidmann explained.   "I have to go repel
it."
     "I'm coming too."  Moore ran to his Glitter Boy, opened it,
and climbed inside.  After a brief systems check, he closed the
front and slammed it into gear.  "I'm going to show those Invid
what it means to mess with a Glitter Boy!"  He ran down the
steps, bringing his gun up to fire.
     "Not near the GMU!" Weidmann yelled over the tac frequency.
     "Right!" Moore said, dropping his gun back and going hand to
hand instead.  He leaped up and punched through the sensor eye of
an unwary Pincer; it fell, leaking green fluid.  Then he ran
TOWARD the chasm.
     "What are you DOING?!" Weidmann asked, firing his Scorpions
before even converting to power armor.
     "Trust me.  I know what I'm doing."  With a mighty, jet-
assisted leap, Moore hurdled the chasm, touching down on the
other side, well away from the GMU.  He brought up the railgun.
"Now let's ROCK AND ROLL!!!"
     BLAM!  BLAM!  BLAM!  Invid fell left and right.  Colonel
Bowaz recognized the effectiveness of the Glitter Boy's weapon
and the vunerability of Moore to close in attacks while firing it
and said, "I want Cyclone Squad C over there with Moore right
now to provide cover for him.  We can't afford to let the enemy
take that gun out!"
 
     In all the fracas, Dr. Smitty's assistant, Jack, had been
all but forgotten about.  As everybody was running about to get
to their battle stations, Jack stood in the middle of a corridor,
confused.  "What's going on here?!"  But no one had time to
answer him.  They were all running this way and that, pulling on
battle armor, and checking weapons.  Jack was painfully aware of
his own empty holster.
     "Well, if no one will TELL me what's happening, I'll just
have to find out for myself."  He found a door access panel
through which he could link to the main computer, then put his
hand on the keypad and concentrated.  Jack didn't know exactly
HOW he did it; he just knew that he could.  Within seconds, he
was receiving the images in his mind's eye: insect-like fighting
machines that could only be Invid!
     Jack ran to the mecha bay, trying to find a way in which he
could help or otherwise participate.  When he got there, his eyes
lit upon a Battler Cyclone someone had left unattended, and the
weapons and Protoculture rack standing nearby.  "Jack, my
friend," he thought to himself, "this could be your lucky day!"
 
     "Beta 4, you have an Invid on your tail!"
     "I know, but I can't shake him!"
     "Don't worry, I'm on my way.  Targeting...locked.  Missiles
running...he's history."
     Conversations like this were heard all over the tac net as
the battle progressed.  "Lead them to me," Joe Moore yelled.
"They're no match for my glitter gun."  The Cyclones around him
weren't all that puny either.
     When the battle was over, the only casualties were three
Cyclones; two had been destroyed by enemy fire and one had
disappeared from the mecha bay.  Jack was gone, too.  It wasn't
hard to find a connection.
     "I should have guessed that he would be tempted by this new
technology," Thornton Smitty sighed.  "As a robotics scientist, I
confess I'm rather tempted myself.  He's always been a bit
impulsive."
     "We can't afford to weaken ourselves by sending men after
him," Bowaz declared.  "We'll just have to continue without him.
IF I can figure out how to get us across that blasted chasm."
     It was Lt. Martin Jackson who finally figured out how to
activate the thrusters.  Under his inexpert guidance, the giant
battle wagon took to the air and made its way (barely) across the
chasm.  Then it had to go back again, to ferry across more of the
Destroids, who couldn't jump or fly across by themselves.  And
again.  By the end of the day, Lt. Jackson was a nervous wreck,
and Lt. Col. Bowaz assured him that he would be promoted very
soon.
     And the GMU rolled on.
 
 
 
Chapter 13: They Try Again
 
 
     Bort sat on his throne in the Brain Chamber of the Invid
Hive, reviewing the battle as seen through the eyes of the Pincer
Command Units.  As he watched the images that the brain projected
on the wall, he grew more and more angry.  "They defeated us
easily!" he raged.  Then, to the brain: "Dispatch an attack force
three times the size.  We must destroy them, lest they stand in
the way of our seeding efforts."
     "Further en masse attacks are not advised," the brain
responded.
     "What?!" Bort all but screamed.  "How DARE you countermand
my orders?!?"
     "Strategic analysis of human resources indicates that attack
forces of up to ten times the size would, in all probability,
easily be defeated.  Further, we cannot afford to lose more mecha
in fruitless efforts; all Invid mecha are needed for the
Seeding."
     Bort was enraged, but not so enraged that he could not see
the merit of the brain's words.  He could also sense that the
Brain had a better attack plan.  "What is your idea, Hive brain?"
Bort asked.
     "The strategy is this:  During covert observation by Enforcer
units, it has been observed that the humans have grown lax in
their defense of entry ports to their vehicle.  If it were
possible to get a squadron of Enforcer armor units inside it--"
     "I see!" Bort interrupted, eyes gleaming.  "They may be
eliminated in the end, but they will surely do enough damage in
the meantime that our next attack will be victorious!"  Bort was
unaware that the Regis had had similar thoughts about the
transplanted Hive.  "Make it so, Hive mind, make it so."
 
     In the night, sixty or more miles away from the Hive,
metallic legs moved into position.  A troop of twenty Enforcers,
the Invids' answer to motorized power armor, waited in the
forest, a hundred yards away from the GMU's night campsite.  They
watched and waited, as they had been doing for several days since
the first report of active Protoculture mecha.  But now the order
came down: invade the Ground Mobile Unit, kill the humans, and
blast everything in sight.  The leader Enforcer took these orders
with something akin to human glee.
     The plan was simple: go in through the open mecha bay,
spread out through the corridors, and gun down any humans and
electronic equipment in sight.  A last check on the laser rifles,
and then they were running across the open field.  The Cyclone
guard on duty saw them, and started to raise his gun, but three
of the Enforcers fired in unison to take him out.  That was when
the battle really began.
     The Enforcers moved up the ramp, cannons blazing.  The
repair bay was almost deserted at this time of night, and the
Invid met only light resistance here.  The three Gallant-firing
mechanics held out for as long as they could, then escaped
through one of the emergency bulkhead hatches.
     The Invid moved through the corridors of the GMU, arm plasma
cannons and concealed laser blasters firing at anything that
moved.
 
     On the bridge, Lt. Col. Bowaz was startled out of his sleep
and out of his seat again by the klaxon alarms.  "Turn those damn
things off!" he yelled.  "What's going on here!"  Then he heard
the blaster fire in the corridors and knew that it was serious,
whatever it was.
     Just then, the three mechanics burst onto the bridge,
smoking Gallants still in hand.  "Sir, we've been invaded by
Invid!" one of them blurted out.  "About twenty of them!
Enforcer units!  They're moving through the GMU shooting at
everything!"
     Bowaz wasted not a moment.  "Get all our Cyclones on it,
immediately!"
     "Sir, many of them are cut off!" one of the control techs
yelled.  "According to sensors, the Invid have managed to
collapse central corridors 1, 4, and 7 at several main junctions.
It'll take at least twenty minutes to clear all of the debris
away."
     "Then get moving on it, this instant!" Bowaz yelled.
"Meanwhile, have our CVR-armored troopers move through the
emergency tunnels to try to surround the Invid.  We have to do
everything we can to stop them before they reach the control room
and engine room!"
 
     It just happened that Corporal Felix Weidmann and Glitter
Boy Joe Moore were in the same area of the GMU as the Invid.
They were in Felix's quarters at the time, playing each other a
quick game of Veritech Simulator.  Felix was winning, because
he'd had more experience at the game.
     Then the explosions were heard.  Felix and Joe jumped up
immediately, the game forgotten.  "What is it?!" Joe asked.
     "I don't know," Felix said, grabbing a Badger submachinegun
from the wall above his bed and slapping in the clip of
high-explosive armor-piercers.  "But I intend to find out.  Come
on!"
     Joe picked up the rifle that he'd brought with him from his
Glitter Boy armor, which he'd told Felix was a Juicer JA-11
three-in-one rifle, and followed.  "Hey, wait for me!"
     When Joe caught up to Felix Weidmann, he said, "What is it?!
What's going on?"
     "The Invid have gotten into the GMU," Weidmann replied.
"Looks like it's up to us to take them out."
 
 
 
Chapter 14: Different People, Different Battles
 
 
     Corporal Felix Weidmann moved stealthily up the corridor,
Badger submachine gun in hand.  He was following the twenty Invid
Enforcers who had somehow made their way into the ship, watching
for an opportunity to eliminate some of them through skillful
manipulation of his weapon.
     Behind him came Joe Moore, whose Glitter Boy power armor
packed the most powerful robot-mounted weapon any of the REF
troops had ever seen.  He wasn't in it now, though he wished he
was.  He carried the special JA-11 German rifle commonly used by
Juicers.
     As they rounded a bend in the corridor, Moore took up a
firing stance and drew a bead on the rear-most Enforcer's head.
He flicked the fire selector over to the ion blaster and pulled
the trigger.  The Enforcer's head exploded.
     Weidmann swore--he had planned to find a better vantage
point before blasting.  In the middle of the corridor, he was
woefully open to return Invid fire.  But all this took only half
a second.  In the time after that half second, Weidmann had taken
out the head of another of the Enforcers with the explosive
Badger bullets, then dropped to the floor as several laser
volleys whistled over his head.
     Moore was firing bursts from the ion pulse rifle part of the
JA-11 to cover his friend.  Felix managed to crawl into a
corridor branching off from the main one, there to stand up and
fire around the corner.  They had eliminated one more Enforcer
between them before the Invid apparently recognized the futility
of this battle and retreated up the corridor in the direction
they'd been heading.
     "What now?" Moore asked.
     "We'll try to get ahead of them," Weidmann decided.  "We'll
take the emergency bulkhead tunnels and hatches.  Come on."
     "Shouldn't we try to get to the Cyclones?" Moore asked.  "I
mean, we don't stand a chance against them in a direct firefight
without armor."
     "Hmmm."  Weidmann thought for a few seconds.  "That is a
good idea.  All right; the mecha bay is back that way.  Hurry."
 
     It took about five minutes to reach the bay.  Weidmann
wasted no time in getting on the CVR armor; Moore did the same.
Fortunately, the Invid hadn't bothered to shoot at the Cyclone
mecha--apparently they hadn't recognized them.  They'd been more
concerned with shooting up the electronic consoles, most of which
could easily be replaced from spare stock.
     Joe Moore pressed the concealed switch to open the front
panels of the Glitter Boy armor.  With a pneumatic hiss, the GB
unsealed.  "What are you doing?" Felix asked.
     "Suiting up, of course," Joe replied, climbing in and
sticking his head up into the Glitter Boy helmet to check the
instruments.
     "Are you kidding?!  You can't use that gun in here, and that
Glitter Boy armor wouldn't fit through the corridors."
     "Oh, you're right."  Joe stopped, crestfallen.  "But what
WILL I use?"
     Felix gestured to a nearby Cyclone.  "That, of course."
     "Ah!" Joe rubbed his hands together.  "Cool!"
     "This is the first time you'll actually be taking it into
combat, so be careful," Felix said through his CVR helmet which
was now secured in place.  "You're armed with a full load of
missiles and the EP-40 30mm pulse beam gun.  Just point and
shoot; that's all there is to it.  I've checked you out on
everything else."
     Joe nodded, latching the armor into place on his arms and
legs.  He straddled the Cyclone.  "Let's go slam those Invid," he
muttered.
     Felix Weidmann raced the motor, popped a wheelie, and raced
off down the corridor.  Joe Moore followed.  As they raced
through the passageway, Felix yelled back to Joe, "I never
thought I would get the chance to do this!"
 
     Lt. Martin Jackson was not a happy camper.  In fact, he
wasn't any kind of a camper at all, and he definitely wasn't
happy.
     Jackson had been in one of the GMU's small science
laboratories, about eight by ten feet in length and width, when
several Enforcers had stomped by.  Now, about a minute later, he
stuck his head out the door and followed the progress of the
aliens up the corridor.  They seemed to be splitting up, with
about three going down each offward-branching corridor.  Lt.
Jackson pulled his Gallant H-90.  "Let's go hunting," he said to
it, mainly because it sounded like something Clint Eastwood would
say in this situation (though he would never admit it, Jackson
was a fan of the old shoot-'em-up movies and wished he could be
more like their heroes--a desire accentuated by his exclusion, as
a scientist, from combat missions) and partly because that was
what he was about to do.
     But first he pulled out a small electronic device, a kind of
compu-clipboard in miniature, and turned it on.  He pressed some
buttons, and a corridor map of that particular level of the GMU
appeared on the clear glass.  "Let me see...the weapon storage
room is here, and I'm here, and the Invid went, uh, up these
corridors.  That means...I'm cut off from all weapons except
this Gallant."  He tapped the sidearm slung at his waist.  "Hmmm.
Enforcers can be cracked with Gallant fire, but it's tricky."
Lt. Jackson reached over to a computer terminal and entered a
few commands.  "Yep, definitely cut off.  But..."  He looked
around at the well-stocked chemical lab.  "Yes, that would
definitely do the trick..."
     Jackson crossed to the storage shelves.  His finger went
down the line of sealed bottles and flasks, searching out the
lables which told what chemical or gas was in each specimen jar.
He selected several decanters, made sure they were sealed
tightly, and dropped them into his pockets and belt pouches.  A
minute later, he started up the corridor, on the Invids' trail.
     It wasn't long before Lt. Jackson caught up to them.  He
first saw them as he rounded a corner in the corridor.  Quickly
he dropped back behind the corner and flattened himself against
the wall.  "Okay, Jackson," he muttered to himself.  "Don't lose
it now..."  Deactivated Gallant pistol in his right hand, with
his left he reached down to his belt and carefully retrieved a
small chemical container.  This was the easy part.
     "Now let's see if I've still got it..." Jackson muttered.
He had been the battallion bowling champ for three years running,
back in a different division of the REF.  He now used that skill,
stepping out from behind the corner and rolling the small jar
along the floor.  He jumped back and held his breath as the small
bottle rolled smoothly along the floor, ending up with a clink
against the foot of one of the Enforcers.  The Invid in question
was facing the opposite way and did not appear to notice.
     "Now comes the difficult part."  Jackson psyched himself up
for the most risky stage of this operation.  "Heck," he muttered,
"it's now or never."  He switched on the Gallant and jumped out,
firing as he went.  His first two shots went wild, but the third
hit the bottle.  The Enforcer next to it never knew what
happened--the exploding bottle took him out.  The Field Scientist
ducked back around the corner and turned off the Gallant, lest
the Invid spot him by its radiation.
     "One down, and two to go," he muttered.  "Now let's just see
what else I picked up..."
 
 
 
Chapter 15: Different Battles, Part II
 
 
     Glitter Boy Joe Moore and Cyclone Rider Corporal Felix
Weidmann roared down the corridor on their Cyclones, regardless
of the danger of collision in such a confined area.  All
personnel had already received news of the Invid attack and were
arming themselves to take out the enemy--but by the time they got
to their weapons it could be too late.
     Felix skidded his Cyclone to a halt, forcing Joe to do the
same.  "According to radio reports I've been getting, there's a
bunch of 'em around the next corner.  Let's switch to Cyclone
Armor and go in blasting."
     "Right."  Joe concentrated and found the mental pattern
necessary to activate the Cyclone's telepathic control system
while simultaneously pressing the reconfiguration switch on the
right handgrip.  The motorcycle changed, coupling to places on
the CVR armor to reinforce it and provide to its wearer the
benefit of servo-powered strength and maneuverability.  As the
booster rockets built into the back locked into place, Joe raised
the EP-40 and said, "Okay, I'm ready."
     Felix, who had changed simultaneously, checked the sights on
his rifle and said, "Engage your targeting sensor and let's go.
There are five of them, by my estimation.  Easy pickings."
     "I understand.  Targeting array up, sensors locked."  Joe
ran around the corner and brought up the gun.  As it came up, its
own laser targeting system fed data into the targeting device in
front of Joe Moore's right eye.  The crosshairs slid into place
and Joe let loose a blast that took the Invid's head off.
     "Wow!  This is just like my helmet scope in the Glitter
Boy!" Joe said, firing on and destroying another.  The remaining
Invid were now alert to the threat, and took refuge behind some
pieces of heavy machinery.
     "Time for a bit of precision," Corporal Weidmann decided,
raising his left arm and firing a Scorpion plasma mini-missile
from the launch tube.  Though it tried to dodge, the third Invid
bit the dust in a ball of flame.
     Joe had his gun up and was lining up on the next Invid, when
he was knocked off his feet by Felix Weidmann.  "Hey, was that
really nec--" Joe began angrily, turning his head.  At that
instant, a laser blast separated Felix's right arm from his body.
The blast would have hit Joe, if Felix hadn't knocked him out of
the way.
     As Felix collapsed, Joe caught him and gently lowered him to
the ground.  Then he turned to the Enforcer that had sneaked
around behind them to deliver the laser blast and said, "You're
dead.  You're very dead."  All twelve of the mini-missiles in his
Cyclone's chest compartments flew out and destroyed the offending
Invid.
     "Now it's your turn."  Joe turned to the last remaining
Enforcer, and fired his EP-40.  It deflected the blast with its
circular buckler-type shield and returned fire with the
bazooka-like cannon mounted on its right arm.  Joe rolled out of
the way and blasted again.  It dodged again, and laid down a
barrage of fire that very nearly finished him.
     Joe fired again, not taking time to aim, to distract the
Invid as he moved in closer.  He threw himself against the wall
to avoid more cannon fire, then was too close for the Invid to
use its cannon on him.  Now they were within the realm of
hand-to-hand combat, a field that Joe was, to say the least, not
inexpert in.
     The Invid didn't seem to know what to do.  Joe took
advantage of its momentary hesitation to throw a left to the
chest area, followed by a right uppercut to the front of the
elongated head.  The Enforcer reeled back, then recovered itself.
It ejected the cannon, which fell to the floor, but retained the
shield.  As Joe threw another punch, it parried with it.
     Even as he struggled with the Enforcer, Joe Moore was amazed
by the power of the compact power armor he was in.  "This thing's
easily as powerful as my Glitter Boy," he thought.  "Much more
maneuverable, too," he mentally added as he ducked out of the way
of the Invid's first clumsy attempt to punch him.  "Hmm,
evidently this one's not too well trained in hand-to-hand
combat."
     But it was learning fact.  The Enforcer got several good
jabs in that staggered Joe and fetched him back against the
opposite wall.  As the Invid reached for its cannon to finish him
off, Joe got to his feet and ran at full speed toward the Invid.
Too late, the alien looked up as Joe's shoulder hit its chest,
sending it flying back against the wall.  Joe kicked its gun
away.  "You won't be needing this," he decided.
     The Invid got back up, and charged him.  Was he starting to
get it angry now?  Joe moved to the side, and delivered a
side-kick to its back as it passed him.  The Enforcer fell to the
ground.  Joe waited for it to get up, then spun and brought his
foot up in a spin-kick reminiscent of Bruce Lee (though a bit
clumsier) that knocked the Enforcer on its back again.
     "Time to end it," Joe decided, looking nervously at the
ceiling.  He hoped it was high enough.  Well, it had better be.
     As the Enforcer got sluggishly to its feet, Joe jumped, his
right foot coming up as he did, hitting the Invid just under its
chin and going up, up, up, and through.  The Invid Enforcer's
head left its body, and went flying through the air like a
football, tumbling end over end, until it hit the wall.  Green
liquid spouted both from the severed head and from the neck of
the Enforcer body.
     Joe landed on his feet, shook his head as if to clear it,
and looked at the body of the Invid for a few seconds.  Then he
remembered his friend, Felix Weidmann.  What was he going to do?
 
     Lt. Martin Jackson peered cautiously around the corner.
The armory was just about ten yards up the corridor, but between
him and the armory entrance were two Invid Enforcers.  The wise
thing to do would have been to call it off, and Lt. Jackson was
tempted, but he refused to give in.  "Would Chuck Norris, or
Clint Eastwood give in?!  Never!  And neither will I," he told
himself.  "I just have to think of the right way to do it."
     And then Jackson had it.  He pulled two containers from
opposite sides of his belt and set them on the floor.  Next, he
removed an empty bottle from his belt, and opened it.  He poured
the contents of the two jars into the bottle and hurriedly sealed
the lid.
     "Now..." he muttered.  "It's party time."  Chuckling under
his breath at the corny line he'd just used, Lt. Jackson stepped
out into the main corridor and threw the container at the Invid.
As hoped, it shattered on the floor, and within seconds, a thick,
black cloud of smoke billowed out.  Jackson slipped on the
infra-red goggles he often carried with him and ran for it.  The
Invid could hear his footsteps, but couldn't see him.  But he
could see THEM as plain as day.  He passed within four feet of
one, and splashed it with the contents of one of his bottles as
he went by.  The Enforcer emitted a wierd, uncanny, inhuman
scream as the molecular acid ate through its armor and into the
creature inside.
     Laser blasts echoed through the hallway, and one or two hit
close to Jackson, but he wasn't worried; the remaining alien was
firing blindly through the smoke--the chances of it hitting
anything were very slim.
     Just twenty feet more; ten feet...Martin was sweating and
breathing hard.  If he could just make it to the door...Then he
was in!  Praying that the Enforcer hadn't pinpointed just WHICH
door he'd gone into, Jackson looked around to see just what he
had available to him.
     This weapons storage facility was actually an MP
mini-stockade.  There were a couple of small cells for detaining
prisoners, a desk for the security officer-of-the-watch (which
had been unoccupied for a long time because of the understaffing
of the GMU), and a few weapons lockers.  It was to these lockers
that Jackson turned now.
     "Initiate emergency command protocol omega," he instructed
the computer.  "Access code is 'Hunter 1'; request voice
recognition as Lt. Martin Jackson, Science Division."
     The computer beeped and cheeped incoherently, then replied,
"Cannot comply with your request.  Linkages to main computer are
non-functional."
     Jackson made an incoherent noise, then pulled his Gallant
and blasted the main locking mechanism.  As all the locker doors
flew open, Jackson looked inside.  "Hmmmmm.  Promising.  Very
promising."
 
     Outside, the smoke had finally cleared.  The solitary Invid
Enforcer was contacting the Hive for further instructions.  They
came.
     "Find and eliminate the commanding officers!" the Regis'
voice came through weakly.  "They will be in the control bridge,
at the front of this vehicle.  Eliminate them!  Eliminate them!"
     Then a VR-038-LT Cyclone stepped out of the armory door.
"The only thing that's gonna be eliminated around here is YOU,"
Lt. Jackon Jackson said, firing the Cyc's RL-6 Heavy Rocket
Cannon.  The Enforcer dodged and returned fire, but was destroyed
by Jackson's second mini-missile.
     "Now to head to the bridge," Jackson decided.  "If any
Invid made it there, we'll be in big trouble."
 
 
 
Chapter 16: Counting the Costs/Finding the Doc
 
 
     Through the diligent efforts of the REF troopers Bowaz had
sent through the emergency bulkheads, the rest of the Invid
Enforcers had been totally destroyed.  However, they had
inflicted major damage to the GMU's interior.  The biomaintenance
engineers shook their heads at some of the damage, which would at
best take months to repair completely.
     Meanwhile, in the medical bay, Joe Moore stood nervously by
the side of the bed in which Corporal Weidmann was lying.  The
doctors standing by the bed shook their heads at the readings
coming from their EKGs and other monitoring equipment.  "I don't
think he'll live more than a few hours, at best," one said.  "The
system shock is too pervasive."
     Lt. Col. Bowaz stood by Moore's side, arm consolingly on his
shoulder.  "He was a good man."
     "More than that," Joe said.  "He's a hero.  If only there
were some way..."  He was silent for a moment, then his face lit
up.  "Hey, wait a minute.  Maybe there IS!  Colonel Bowaz, I know
someone who can save this man's life.  All I need are two things:
rapid transport to pick the guy and his equipment up, and
payment.  His services don't come without a fee, y'know."
     "What kind of payment?" Bowaz asked.  "I'm not sure we
have--"
     "You have more than you think.  Look, a lot of what you have
here could be sold as 'pre-rifts artifacts' on the black market.
That makes it worth a lot.  CDs, videotapes, all sorts of things
like that.  But we have to hurry.  By my estimation, the guy's
about a thousand miles or so away from here, in a minor Coalition
city in the state of Chi-Town.  If I could have the services of
one of your Beta fighters...?"
     Bowaz nodded.  "Of course.  I'll put two of my best men on
it right away.  I'll just tell Captain Steele--"  Then he stopped, as
he remembered that Steele wasn't there anymore.  "Blast it, I
wish I knew where Steele was."
     Joe Moore nodded.  Captain Steele had vanished a week or so
previously, without a trace.  Some had suggested that he'd gone
AWOL, but Joe didn't believe it.  "I wonder where he is right
now, myself."
 
     Fifteen minutes later, a Legios unit (linked Alpha and Beta
fighters) was streaking through the skies at Mach 8.  The pilots
had grumbled about how foolish it was.  "Radar is sure to pick us
up," the Alpha pilot had said as they were strapping in.
     "It doesn't matter," Moore had replied, pulling on his CVR-3
helmet.  "We're faster than anything they've got.  Trust me on
this one."
     "Target area coming up," the Beta pilot said.  "Prepare for
drop, mister.  We'll be back by in two hours."
     "Right," Moore replied, stepping onto the release hatch in
the Beta's bomb bay.  He had a Battler Cyclone on, armed with the
four Scorp missile tubes and nothing else.  He wanted it to be as
inobtrusive as possible when in motorcycle mode.  He was carrying
other equipment, however.  This included a Gallant pistol and
grenades of various types.
     "Three...two...one..." the voice came over the radio.
"...DROP!"  The floor went away from under Joe, and he tumbled
toward the ground.  He barely managed to engage the thrusters in
time to slow his fall.  He didn't manage to stop it completely,
however, and the falling power armor cut a wide swath through the
conifer trees on the hillside on which he landed.
     A minute or so later, Joe Moore picked himself up off the
ground and checked for broken bones.  "Nope; just a few bruises,"
he decided.  "Now to find out where I am."  He jumped and ignited
the Cyclone's thrusters to fly up above the tallest tree.  "Ah, I
see.  There's the road, down in that valley.  Oh, and there's
Kirksville."
     Kirksville sat like a black blot on the horizon.  It had
originally been merely the ruins of an old town, mostly overgrown
by forest, but the Coalition had moved in, cleaned out the
forest, and shipped some of Chi-Town's overburgeoning population
in.
     The town was mostly slums, with a large area of the sub-slum
Burbs around the outside.  Coalition patrols were light
here--there wasn't really that much to guard--so it should be no
problem to slip in through over the rear walls.  Joe had done it
before, without any kind of armor.  With the thrusters on this
Cyclone, it would be a cinch.
     The only problem now, Moore decided, lay in getting Dr.
Peltzer to come with him.  "He will," Joe resolved.  "He will, if
he wants to live."  He had used that expression for a long time,
but only now did it possess any shade of its literal meaning.
 
     Joe felt extremely fortunate that the city was surrounded by
forest.  That made it all that easier for him to slip around to
the back side of the city.  Now came the hard part.
     There were two guards stationed back here: Coalition Grunts
in Coalition standard armor, carrying laser rifles.  Joe
considered his options as he watched them from the cover of the
forest.  He could probably defeat them easily--but he didn't want
a commotion that would probably alert the other guards and cause
a citywide sweep for intruders.
     Then Joe had an idea.  He crept back into the forest about a
hundred yards, to a small clearing.  Here he removed one of his
smoke grenades from the rucksack he was carrying them in, and set
it on the ground.
     Next, Moore boosted up to the bottom branch of one of the
pine trees, and tore it loose from the trunk with his Cyclone's
strength.  He laid it on the ground, so it would look as if it
had fallen off the tree by itself.
     Joe checked his watch.  The countdown timer read 1:37:23.
"Hurry, Joe, hurry..." he thought to himself.  He dug an
indentation in the ground with his fingers and placed the grenade
in it.  He smeared some of the mud all over the shiny cylinder,
and arranged the branch over the grenade.  Then he pulled the pin
and dropped it on the ground by the smoke bomb.
     The job complete, Joe Moore ran back to his vantage point
near the city wall as the smoke started to rise.  As he'd
expected, the two guards ran into the forest at the first signs
of smoke.  A forest fire was a serious thing, and had to be
handled with dispatch.
     As soon as the guards were out of sight, Moore vaulted the
12-foot city wall in his Cyclone armor, and set down on the other
side.  Here was one of the poorest areas of town--the back
alleys.  Crumbling old buildings that had been here since the
city's last life provided homes for some of the town's worst-off
denizens.  Fortunately, no one was around.
     Moore reconvered the Cyclone to motorcycle mode and pulled
out the three storage containers from the rucksack.  He placed
them by the Cyclone, then stripped off his armor (battle armor
being illegal in the city).  When disassembled, the armor and his
Gallant went into one of the storage containers, the grenades in
another, and all three were magnetically clamped on top of the
Cyclone.
     As he was about to rev the engine and head off, he heard the
guards return.  "A false alarm," one was saying, apparently into
a radio mike.  "Tree limb broke off, knocked the pin out of an
old smoke grenade someone'd left lying around.  [Pause]  Yeah, we
know.  G2A1 out."
     "Why do WE get all the false alarms?" the other asked.
Moore smiled and wheeled his motorcycle a hundred feet or so down
the alley before climbing on and starting it up.  Now to find Dr.
Peltzer!
 
     Fifteen minutes later, Joe Moore pulled up in front of the
door to a ramshackle old house that appeared to have been
bombed--hardly anything was left standing.  He gave the code
knock, and the door opened.  Joe looked around nervously, then
wheeled the Cyclone into the door and down the staircase that had
been built here.
     The stairway led down about thirty feet to a series of rooms
that had been dug out of the ground.  The first was analogous to
a waiting room--there were a desk and a few chairs.  The desk was
occupied.  The chairs weren't.
     "Hello, Mabel," Joe said to the woman behind the desk.
"Beautiful as ever, I see."
     Mabel, who was about forty-five and no longer really
beautiful, blushed at the flattery all the same, and said, "Oh,
go on in.  I know Doctor Peltzer will be glad to see you."
     "Not half as glad as I'll be to see him."  He walked to the
door, then half-turned and said, "Oh, watch my bike, okay?"  Then
he walked on to the next room.
     This was Doc Peltzer's office, with another desk, and a
couple of chairs.  There was a rusty old cabinet against one wall
that held all of Peltzer's examining tools, and a frame on the
wall with a piece of paper in it that said, "Put Medical Diploma
Here" (Doc Peltzer had a sense of humor).
     Though without diploma, Peltzer was far from being a quack.
The reason he had no degree was that there was no one to give one
to him.  Peltzer was as educated as or more educated than many
20th century doctors.  He had just gotten his learning
underground (figuratively) and now practiced it underground
(figuratively and literally).
     Now Peltzer, who was behind his desk, stood as Joe Moore
approached and said, "Joe!  How are you?"  Peltzer was
short--about 5' 7"--with hair halfway between brown and blond and
a mustache to match.
     Joe got right to the point.  "I'm okay, but a friend of mine
isn't.  Get your gear together, and I'll take you to him."
     Peltzer nodded, and went into action.  He pulled off the lab
coat he was wearing to reveal a jumpsuit beneath it.  "Describe
the problem."
     "Right arm blown off by laser fire.  In shock, fading fast."
     Peltzer again nodded, and went into the next room, his
surgery, where he selected a bionic arm and some tools with which
to install it.  As he packed other medical miscellany, Joe asked,
"Still got Old Faithful?"
     "Yep.  That old Jeep hasn't failed me yet."  Peltzer threw
some more stuff into a duffel bag, then said, "Where do I need to
go?"
     "Once you get out of town, make for this point."  Joe
indicated it on a map of the surrounding area hanging on one
wall.  "I'll meet you there.  In..."  He looked at his watch.
"...one hour and about ten minutes, we'll be picked up."
     "Can you get out of town?" Peltzer asked.
     "Don't worry about me," Moore replied.  "I have an edge like
you wouldn't believe."
 
     A thousand miles away, Major Sebastian Mortifax of the
Coalition's air wing examined reports that had just reached his
desk, of an object detected making Mach 8, identified on radar as
some kind of an airplane.  Mortifax had stopped the report from
going any higher, telling his subordinates that it had to be "a
glitch in the radar or something" and calling in a Technical
Officer to run a complete check on the radar.
     Of course, Mortifax knew what it REALLY was, what it HAD TO
be--someone had developed a new, super-fast jet.  Mortifax had to
have it.  And, as he swore to himself, he would, he would...
 
 
 
Chapter 17: Steele Survived!
 
 
     Captain Steele was unconscious for a very long time.  When
he awoke, it was by levels.  He began to feel his body, then
conscious thought returned, and one by one his senses began to
respond.  Then Steele opened his eyes to find he was lying barely
twenty feet away from a dragon.
     It was a magnificent creature, perhaps seventy or eighty
feet long, and pure snowy white.  It appeared to be asleep.
Steele was nervous, until he recognized the dragon as being the
same one that had come to his aid during the rescue of the two
scientists.  Then he relaxed, and drifted back into
unconsciousness.
     When he awoke again, the dragon was gone, and Sherelynn was
there, running a moistened cloth across his forehead.  "Welcome
back to the land of the living," Sherelynn greeted him.
     Steele groaned slightly and lifted himself to his shoulders
with his elbows.  "Where am I?"  He looked around.  "And how did
I get here?"  They appeared to be in a forest clearing, about a
hundred feet or so in diameter.  It was late afternoon.
     Steele was wearing the pants of his REF uniform, but no
shirt.  About twenty feet away were his Cyclone cycle and CVR
armor.
     "I have my ways," Sherelynn said coyly.
     "The dragon?"  Steele dimly remembered being borne through
the air; but after that, nothing.
     He thought Sherelynn's expression changed for an instant,
but he might have imagined it.  "Oh, the dragon?  She's an old
friend of mine."
     "What an amazing creature," Steele murmured, lying back down
again.  Sherelynn smiled, and Steele smiled back at her smile.
She had a smile that made one dizzy--or was that just his overall
weakness from the wound?
 
     It was several days before Steele could get up and walk
around.  Sherelynn told him that he'd lost a great deal of blood
before she'd found him.  "It's extremely fortunate for you that I
am skilled in the psychic arts of healing," she told him.
     And she was more than willing to demonstrate these arts.
"It involves the laying on of hands," she said, kneeling by where
he was lying and putting her hands on his chest where the wound
had been (all traces were almost completely gone by now).  "Now I
concentrate, and..."  Steele immediately felt new strength flow
into his body.
     "That's amazing!" he said.  Then, with his newfound
strength, he pulled her arms out from under her and dropped her
to the ground beside him.  They lay there, on their sides,
looking at each other, then grabbed each others' arms, pulled
closer together, and let nature take its course.
 
     Early one morning, several "healing sessions" later, Steele
was finally on his feet.  This morning, Steele was checking over
the Cyclone for damage.  Fortunately, the hit he'd taken hadn't
been too critical for the machine.  However, his CVR armor had a
hole the size of his fist blown out of it.  "Whoa," he muttered
as he examined it.  "I was lucky, indeed!"
     As Steele reloaded the chest missile launchers from one of
the storage containers on the Cyclone, he thought about
Sherelynn.  She was off in the woods somewhere.  As he'd been
getting better and better, she'd been making her trips more and
more frequently, and staying away much greater lengths of time.
     Steele decided to get his armor on and do a bit of looking
around in the Cyclone.  As he snapped the last transformation
locking unit into place on his chest, he heard a scream.  Racing
to his Cyclone, Steele wasted no time.  He shifted modes and took
off, heading for the source of the scream.
     It was Sherelynn--three people in SAMAS power armor had her
pinned against a rock cliff and were holding their railguns on
her.  "Don't make a move, dragon lady," one of them muttered.
"We'll fill you so full of holes that sponges will be envious."
     Steele touched down behind them.  "I wouldn't advise that,"
he said loudly.
     Two of the SAMAS troops turned to look--and that was their
mistake.  Sherelynn grabbed the railgun of the third and yanked
it out of his hands.  It went off, but it apparently missed, for
Sherelynn was still there.
     The other two opened fire immediately, but there was nothing
for their railgun pellets to hit--Steele wasn't there any more.
>From atop the rock cliff, Captain Steele said, "Here I am!"  As
they fired their mini-missiles at him, he leaped again, this time
coming down right in front of them.  "And here you DIE!"  On the
last work, he rammed the Saber Cyclone's blades through the chest
of the first SAMAS armor.  The other Sam took to the air, hoping
to outrun Steele.
     "Bad move, pal," Steele said, opening the mini-missile racks
and firing all twelve mini-missiles at the escaping SAMAS.  They
struck dead-on, and blasted it to smithereens.
     Meanwhile, Sherelynn seemed to be having a relatively easy
time with her SAMAS.  She was executing karate moves against
it--and they were WORKING.  The Sam staggered back from her
onslaught of deadly blows.  It fired its mini-missiles at her,
and at the point-blank range at which it was from her, it
automatically struck--but Sherelynn was unphased, and almost
undamaged!  "That did it," Sherelynn said.  "Now you've made me
MAD!"  She spun around, bringing her foot up as she did, and
executed a perfect spin-kick to the power armor's skull-like
head.  The Sam's head snapped back, and there was an audible
CRACK as the pilot's neck broke.  The SAMAS collapsed to the
ground.
     Steele changed the Cyclone back into a motorcycle and
stepped off.  He ran over to Sherelynn, who was leaning back
against the rock face, bleeding from a couple of wounds in her
chest.  "What are you?" he asked.  "I saw you take that railgun
blast and those missiles.  You should be lying in little pieces
on the ground right now, but you're hardly hurt."  Even as he
watched, her wounds closed up slightly.
     Then Steele thought of something.  "That man--he called you
'dragon lady.'  Does that mean...?"  He looked at her again.
Funny, she DID bear a certain resemblance to the white dragon,
now that he considered it.  The paleness of her complexion and
hair, the shape of her body, even the way she moved contested to
the similarity.
     Sherelynn nodded and sighed.  "Yes, I am the Ice Dragon."
She hung her head.  "I didn't want to tell you, because I was
afraid that you would--would feel differently about me."
     Steele searched his feelings.  At first, he was astonished.
He had made love to a dragon?!  But then he knew that it didn't
matter, recalling the examples of Max and Miriya Sterling, Bowie
Grant and Musica, Scott Bernard and Marlene, and Lancer and Sera.
Love could surpass ANY obstacle, and Steele knew he loved this
dragon.  "Sherelynn, I don't care what you are.  I feel no
differently about you than I did before.  If anything, I
like you even more, now that I know the truth.  I don't have
to keep wondering any more."
     Sherelynn looked up, and said, "You really mean that?"  Her
wounds completely closed up, and she stood from off the rock and
embraced Steele.
     "I do," Steele reaffirmed.
     They kissed passionately and long, then went off to let
nature take its course once again.
 
 
 
Chapter 18: Zyjinn's Awakening
 
 
     The Invid Enforcer squad sent into the GMU had been
destroyed.  Bort sat on his throne and fumed, for all of the
Invid Brain's estimates of great damage to the machine's
interior.  "It still functions, does it not?!" he raged at the
machine.  "Find me a way to remedy THAT, why don't you?"
     "Patience," the Brain soothed.  "The Seeding goes well.
Already our Troopers have secured for us all land within a radius
of thirty of the humans' miles, and the first fields of the
Flower of Life have been planted and seem to be growing quite
well.  Soon we will have enough power to wipe the entire human
presence from this planet."
     Bort shook his head, a human gesture that apparently had
come with the human body.  "How?  How can we do that?"  He swept
his arm in the general direction of the chambers where hundreds
of Invid lay in suspended animation, waiting for the telepathic
signal that would rouse them to activity.  "We have a finite
supply of Invid.  Our Regis, for all her power, cannot reach us
without a large supply of Protoculture to draw upon.  Once those
eggs are gone, we have no more.  And we are spreading ourselves
too thin as it is."
     "We will not be caught defenseless," the Brain insisted.
"Even as I communicate with you, I am at the same time overseeing
the quickening, the revivification, of dozens of your Invid
brethren.  By the time this planet has completed another rotation
about its axis, we shall be up to full strength."
     "Yes," Bort said.  "But what of our future?  How will we
survive without our Regis?"
     "I believe that Zyjinn is considering that possibility even
as we speak."
 
     Thirty miles from the Hive, Zyjinn stood within a ley line.
His Command Battloid stood, cockpit open, a hundred yards from
the ley line's edge--he had left it behind because he needed to
be outside of it to feel this incredible power as it truly needed
to be felt.
     A group of ten Enforcers and two Pincer Command Units was
nearby, awaiting his call.  They did not come within a hundred
feet of the ley line--it instilled in them a feeling vaguely akin
to human nervousness.  It was an irrational feeling, but when was
any living creature ever completely rational?
     Zyjinn stood, virtually naked to the ley line, letting the
power flow around him, feeling its pulse as it permeated all the
tissues of his body.  As he experienced this, FELT it, he
considered what he had learned from inhabitants of the villages
that the Invid had enslaved.  These disturbances, called "ley
lines," were a source of power for psychics and magicians.  The
psychic energy of billions of deaths had fugued into a horrific,
hellish reaction that had awakened these lines.
     Now, those who understood the power could use it.  And that
was what Zyjinn now sought.  Somewhere, deep in his humanoid
mind, the lust for power seethed uneasily.  It had been there for
a long, long time, sublimated beneath the stronger racial loyalty
to the Regis and his race.  But now, the Regis' influence was
absent, or at least far removed.  Zyjinn now understood his TRUE
destiny--to become the utmost power on the face of the planet.
And once he knew how to control the power that surged through
this ley line phenomenon, he could use it to destroy Bort then
the Regis, and take control of the Invid race.  And from there,
he would rise to new heights, as eventual ruler of the cosmos!
     To assist him in this conquest, Zyjinn had recruited an
experienced magic-user.  This man called himself Tal, and claimed
to be a Shifter, one whose skill lay in manipulating the eddies
of space and time to open gates between dimensions.  His age
appeared to be about forty human years, and he had dark hair and
steel-grey eyes.  Tal stood beside him now, basking in the energy
of the line.  "Isn't it wonderful?!" Tal crowed.  "Only those
truly skilled in magic or psionics can feel as we do now."
     "Show me the ways of this power, Shifter," Zyjinn commanded.
"It is only this that has saved you from death at the hands of my
Enforcers.  I would know all that you can teach me, for my
further experimentation."
     Tal nodded, and laughed inwardly at this creature.  He
recognized the true reason Zyjinn wished to know of magic.  He
was not so imperceptive as to recognize the craving for power
when he encountered it.  Perhaps one reason for this recognition
was that a similar craving resided within his own heart.  "I will
teach you all that you need to know."
 
     In a distant dimension, the Invid Regis felt a distant
tremor in the group consciousness of her race.  It soon passed,
and the Regis forgot it rapidly, with all the other pressing
matters on her mind.  But the sense of impending doom remained
with her for some time, and it was not easily put aside.
 
 
 
Chapter 19: Escape from Kirksville
 
 
     The first inkling Joe Moore got that his exit from
Kirksville might not be too easy was the extra guards in the
streets.  They were mostly just Coalition grunts, cannon fodder,
in the CA-1 and 2 armor.  Joe paid them no heed, and they mostly
ignored him too.  However, they were toting some heavy armament;
mostly the C-27 Heavy Plasma Cannon and the C-14 Firebreather
laser rifle/grenade launcher combo.  Not that they'd be able to
do too much against the Cyclone armor, of course.
     Joe's first escape plan was to change to Cyclone armor and
go over the wall somewhere.  That plan changed as soon as he
noticed the perimeter patrols had been increased to include
Coalition AFC-023 Sky Cycles and SAMAS power armor.  The only way
out appeared to be to pose as a standard wanderer and go out
through the admissions station.  Of course, if the gate guards
remembered that they hadn't seen him coming in, and put two and
two together...
     Then the 'borgs began to show up.  They were mostly partial
conversion, which meant that they'd had only their arms and legs,
or their torsos, replaced with bionic parts (as opposed to their
entire bodies).  They were probably Coalition Military
Specialists, and carried Triax TX-500 borg railgun rifles.  This
interested Joe.  He pulled his Cyclone into an alley and decided
to stay for a while and see what was going on.  If it was
something that required all this firepower, it might be worth
checking out.  It didn't matter if he missed the rendezvous; he
could make his way back to the GMU on the Cyclone.
     Joe Moore didn't have long to wait.  Down the main street of
the town came a procession of motorcycles bearing more grunts,
with plasma cannon rifles slung on their backs.  Following the
'cycles came a pre-rifts convertible automobile, in like-new
condition.  The car was driven by another armored person, one of
the RPA (Robot/Power Armor) pilots by the shape of his helmet.
In the rear seat were two armored individuals whom Joe couldn't
help but recognize. Their faces were familiar to all Coalition
citizens and to many who did not live in the Coalition as well.
The man on the left, with a stern visage and streaks of gray in
his dark hair, was none other than Emporer Karl Prosek, leader of
the Coalition.  By his side, with lighter hair and a similar
face, was his son, Joseph Prosek the Second, Head of Propaganda
for the Coalition. They were making an appearance, apparently for
the purpose of shoring up morale in this town.
     Joe was close enough, in the shadows of the alley, to take
a shot at Prosek, and probably not miss.  The only thing that
stayed his hand was the fact that, if he did shoot Prosek, he
would never make it out of the town alive.  And Joe was way too
attached to his life to let it be separated from him.
     When the convoy had passed, Joe Moore backed further into
the alley, turned ar