Mad World Band

by Danielle L. Parker

Table of Contents
Chapter 1 appears
in this issue

Chapter 2

“The sad thing is they don’t yet know it,” Patrick Terhune said. “They are about five to ten years away from completely destroying their world, by our estimate. Less than fifty percent of it is habitable and millions of people have died already.” He put down the laser pointer he held in his hands and dropped into his seat with a sigh. “Sounds too horribly familiar, doesn’t it. We got to less than ten percent before sanity intervened, but somehow we don’t think MWB-11 is going to stop in time to save even that.”

Neither of the two men in his audience responded aloud, although Terhune, a very able telepath, could hear the silent comment of the tall, massively built young blond man clearly. He looked thoughtfully from one grim face to the other. One of those two men he knew well, but the other was almost a stranger, pulled especially for this assignment. With the blank mental barrier that thin, lanky, pale-faced young man presented, he was not likely to ever know Martin Berger as well as he knew Dorn, the powerful telepath who sat beside him.

But although Terhune and Dorn had gone through several critical and difficult missions together, his superior officer was aware there were new depths to Dorn now. That placid young face, just turned twenty, was no longer as open as it had been, and neither was his sense, the emotional aura that Terhune could detect almost unconsciously.

Dorn had been through a lot on those last two missions, and Terhune wished with the urgency of a father that he could spare this young man an assignment likely to be much worse. But there was no one who came as close to meeting their present need as Dorn, one of Soltri’s powerful “Specials.” More than the alternate Earth they called MWB-11 was at risk from the recent events on that world. That acronym stood for a group the Soltrians called the Mad World Band, and the reasons for that description had already been made all too clear in Terhune’s briefing.

Terhune got to his feet again in resignation. All three men had been through days of what the Soltrians called Impress sessions, an accelerated method of learning that acted directly on the brain. MWB-11’s language, customs, culture, politics, and key technologies had been brutally burned in their minds already. But this, their first face-to-face discussion on their upcoming mission, was just as important, not least to allow Terhune to size up the newest and still mostly silent member of his team.

“You’re going into an active wartime situation,” he said, touching the display to show a revolving globe with MWB-11’s rival factions shown in different colors. “Their geopolitical situation is a little different from what ours was during our generations of war, of course.”

He picked up the laser pointer again. “There are basically three factions,” he indicated them in turn, “First, Sinoasia; second, the Western Alliance, corresponding to the Europe of our history; lastly the Union, corresponding to our own America. In our timeline the geopolitical unit we called America defeated its Asian rivals; Europe and the Middle East played only an incidental part and were more or less destroyed. On MWB-11 the three players are more equally balanced. In fact,” he shrugged and smiled thinly, “I’d say that the Western Alliance is the most viable at this point. Sinoasia and the Union are closer to their mutual death throes.”

It was hard to tell what Martin Berger was thinking of all this. He had not said much. His new superior officer pulled his sharply pointed red beard reflectively. He had seen young Berger’s psych profile and personnel records, which indicated an introverted, somewhat cold personality, understandable in his profession; after all, Berger was here because he was a scientist, not an experienced and able Special Forces agent.

Soltri’s technologies still outstripped MWB-11’s in most areas. The form of travel that MWB-11 was groping toward had been known and utilized in Soltri for years; Terhune himself had visited dozens of alternate Earths. But few people, even on Soltri, fully comprehended the sciences behind that form of travel. Berger was one of the rare ones who did: that silent young man was a genius of sorts. Terhune hoped that ability, and the help of Berger’s Special Forces partner, would make up for what he was afraid might be a few deficiencies in the young man as a field agent.

And again, Terhune reflected grimly, a lot would depend on Dorn. Dorn’s original specialty had been in the equally challenging psionic sciences; that young man, product of one of Soltri’s carefully managed genetic lines, did not lack intelligence in addition to his formidable psionic gifts. His recent training, as well as Dorn’s unusual affinity for the powerful Soltrian psionic intelligence and Doomsday weapon known as the Golem RISH, would enable him to hold his own with Berger in that particular scientific field.

Or so at least Terhune hoped. For both men were scheduled to infiltrate a highly secret project on MWB-11, and there was only one way in. Young Dorn and Berger were joining as the newest graduate students in the Union’s super-secret Operation New Frontier. The largest team the Special Forces had ever fielded had worked for weeks to painstakingly prepare their cover, for although the inhabitants of MWB-11 did not yet manifest signs of the psionic talents so prized on Soltri, memories had to be delicately confused and MWB-11’s own advanced computing systems and records compromised. Given the desperate situation the Union found itself in, if that cover were breached in any way, it would likely mean death or worse for both young men. Years of no-holds-barred war had worn all three global combatants down to a nearly common level of brutality.

He saw, as Dorn’s bright blue gaze met his, that the young man had ably followed these silent reflections. Martin Berger, from his own polite expression, was well used to the occasional silent pauses that indicated his telepathic companions were involved in a closer form of communication. Terhune re-focused his thoughts on his briefing and sat down once more.

“The primary objective of this mission is clear,” he said. “First, we cannot allow MWB-11 to utilize its new technology to open a connection to extra-terrestrial worlds.” He paused, glancing at Martin Berger questioningly. “The risk is far too great, knowing what we do now.”

Even few Soltrians knew that the technology they used to travel to alternate Earths could also be used to open passages to worlds that had never been Earth. On his last mission, Terhune had encountered a sinister alien from such an immensely distant planet. If it had not in fact been for the intervention of the Golem RISH, who with its four fellow Golems formed Soltri’s ultimate protectors, and Dorn’s own peculiar affinity for that strange being, that particular alien would have terminated Terhune’s entire team. The memory was still a little too fresh for the redheaded man, and he had not forgotten that a sister Earth had apparently committed a form of global suicide in a failed attempt to eliminate those same alien invaders.

Martin Berger said obediantly, “I understand, sir. I’ve studied the information the Golem provided us on that alien.” He clearly understood his confirmation was required.

“Good,” Terhune said grimly. “We would prefer MWB-11’s experiments in this direction cease altogether, but unless we take direct military action or attempt extensive sabotage, it may be difficult. The scientists involved see success as their chance to escape a world gone mad; hence, the name New Frontier, I suppose. Personal survival is at stake, since the Union is, if not exactly losing the war, certainly not winning it. Many people, especially the scientists, already realize the Union is in its death throes.”

Dorn said quietly, “Let’s say we aren’t successful in turning the focus of their research away from its extraterrestrial goals, Terhune. How far do we go to stop them from opening a passage to an alien world?”

The red-haired man paused, stroking his beard thoughtfully. The nasty look that came over his usually cynically humorous face was one that Dorn recognized. “Well,” his superior officer replied amiably, “they could get lucky, or they could get unlucky. Since we already know the risk that they might unknowingly allow passage to beings such as the late Comte de Sevigny,” for that was the name that particular sinister visitor had chosen, “I would say we have to stop it by any means possible. Deadly force fully authorized.”

The idea had, however, clearly stirred Martin Berger’s scientific interest. He muttered, “It’s a great shame, all the same. To be able to travel in an instant to other worlds... ”

“We’ll get there, son.” Terhune’s blue eyes narrowed. “Your colleagues are already at work on it. But we have to find some way of looking before we leap, and that’s the challenge. If visiting an alien world is the sort of Russian roulette it appears to have been for our late lamented sister Earth, well, we’d rather not play the game. You’ll get your chance to work on it, provided,” he smiled cynically, “you survive this little mission.”

He looked for a reaction to this deliberate provocation, but did not get one. Martin Berger lowered his gaze, and the pale face remained unreadable. Terhune, a little thoughtful, glanced at Dorn.

“Spare lives, of course, if you can,” he added. “But the Ministry attaches enough importance to stopping that extraterrestrial jaunt, given what we now know, that if you two fail in the more subtle approach, we’re willing to take direct military action against Operation New Frontier.” He smiled wryly. “And hope we haven’t developed rusty trigger fingers these last few peaceful years.”

He straightened his laser pointer absently. “If, however, their research is taking them in a more, shall we say, Earthly direction, we’re a little more tolerant. We’d very much prefer they not succeed, and we won’t allow them to carry their regional conflict to other worlds. If they make it to Soltri, we’ll arrange a friendly greeting party and hopefully they’ll listen and learn. If they do not cooperate, of course,” he glanced at Dorn with a glint in his blue eyes, “there are always the Golems. They at least protect Soltri itself quite ably. So I don’t necessarily guarantee that the explorers will ever make it back to their home world.”

“And if they end up on MWB-9, which is just as likely as Soltri, or even some other world?” Dorn questioned.

“The first job you two have is to let us know where they are going to hop to. If it’s to MWB-9,” Terhune shrugged. “MWB-9 is almost a destroyed world. There was a form of bio-engineered plague released on that planet that has nearly wiped out the population. We too, by the way,” he added, “are susceptible to it if not properly prepared. If they end up on MWB-9, they’ll be sorry. Union medical sciences are good, but probably not good enough to save them. Let them find out the hard way it might be a better idea to stay home and deal with the mess they made for themselves.”

He sighed. “Since logic indicates that either Soltri or MWB-9, being its closest sister worlds, will be their likely first destination, we are going to prepare you for MWB-9 just in case. It’s a slight risk, true, and you won’t enjoy the preparations, but it’s better than facing that plague if you happen to be forced into a surprise trip to MWB-9. We have observers on that world as well and I will see you get the contact information before you leave.”

“We could just reveal ourselves to them and save everyone a lot of grief,” Martin Berger argued cautiously. “As you just said, if they do make it to MWB-9 they’ll die, and they may very well bring the same doom on their own world.”

“We don’t reveal ourselves unless forced to,” Terhune said quietly. “That’s the rule, for very good reasons. The population of Soltri is 52,908 individuals, including five babies born this week. That’s compared to MWB-11’s population of millions. Less than ten percent of our planet is still viable. In many ways we have far fewer resources than MWB-11 however advanced our technologies.”

He paused. “And if you remember your comparative histories, Mr. Berger, you know it’s very likely that in five years or less MWB-11 itself will be a dead world. They haven’t developed psionic talents, which was one of the factors that saved us. That’s a great sorrow, but it would be fatal for us to intervene in their regional conflict. We have to leave their fate in their own hands, unless it risks Soltri and other worlds.”

Terhune glanced wryly at Dorn as he spoke. Both men knew that they had been part of a team that had been forced into the open by the native inhabitants of an alternate Earth the Soltrians referred to as Europa on their previous mission. That world was now a new partner of Soltri, but it was, on the other hand, a relatively peaceful and technologically backward world compared to MWB-11, as well as a world with its own powerful psionically talented individuals.

Berger nodded slowly, but Terhune waited, seeing the other man was forming another question. “So how far do we go to help them?” he asked. “It’s going to be a bit difficult to hit a balance between being useful and keeping a place on the team and not actually furthering their research.”

Dorn murmured, “Especially since we know the answers. Good point.”

“You’re two new and talented graduate students,” Terhune said. “Still, you shouldn’t be handed the key pieces immediately. I’d say do your assigned parts competently, but don’t make any breakthroughs for them. I don’t want us to be the reason, obviously,” he smiled, “for their success. You’ll have to play it by ear, and if it turns out that you need to steer the project away from that extraterrestrial destination...get more involved.”

“Mainly,” he added, “We’ll need to keep apprised of what’s going on. I’m going to be on the periphery; I have my own cover. You’ll find me in the base kitchen.” Terhune stroked his beard modestly. “I must say, these new cooking talents I have acquired may come in useful after this mission is completed. My wife’s been pleased so far.”

Dorn muttered, “It’s a risk infiltrating three of us into such a closely guarded operation. These Unionists are no fools.”

“True enough,” Terhune answered dryly. “But it’s also true that things are falling apart. They’ve lost a third of their country to invasion, radiation, and biological and chemical damage. Their own unique contribution to the monstrosity of war, what they refer to as bio-constructs, are breaking down and going mad in increasing numbers. They aren’t as careful as they could be right now.” He shook his head. “Those thirty scientists are thinking of Operation New Frontier as their own personal chance to escape the cataclysm. You two will be gift horses they won’t look at too closely, if they think you can help.”

“What about their rivals?” Dorn asked. “The Western Alliance and Sinoasia?”

“We could be wrong, and I hope we are not,” Terhune said. “After all we are spread very thin ourselves. But so far, we haven’t had any hint that they’ve embarked on any similar path. The Union appears to be the only antagonist that has happened on this technological breakthrough, which fits their history, characteristic of the American geopolitical unit across most of the worlds, of superior inventiveness.”

He glanced at his team. “Of course, if you are suspected of being a foreign agent, you’re in real trouble. The Union is on slightly better terms with the Western Alliance, and the fact that you are clearly Caucasian in origin may help. But you can expect to be interrogated and executed if caught; and I suppose I need not remind you that MWB-11 has made some advances in the neurological sciences that we haven’t yet matched. They’ll get into your brain in a way that won’t be pleasant and will likely cause permanent damage.”

Dorn’s placid face did not reveal any change in emotion, although Terhune felt the young man’s grim inward response. Sighing, he looked at the lanky scientist beside him.

“Berger,” he said flatly. “You’ve never had to face this sort of test before. It’s no shame to say you just can’t or don’t want to take it on. I’m offering you one last chance to back out. You don’t need to even give me your reasons.”

The scientist shook his head slowly. “As you just said, sir,” he replied quietly, “Soltri has few people and few choices. Perhaps Dorn might be capable of carrying this assignment alone. But this is, after all, my area of expertise. I don’t like it; I’ll admit that. The morality of what we’re doing troubles me more than anything else. We’re killing something here. But I’m prepared to do my part.”

Although that blank barrier shield prevented Terhune from certainty, he could hear sincerity in the voice. Whether those good intentions would hold together in the crucible was more his present worry, but there was little that could be done now.

He said, “Very well. You also know, Mr. Berger, that Soltri values its people highly. We might ask you to risk your life for the good of us all, but we won’t abandon you under any circumstances. You’re not disposable. We’ve fielded the largest local team of Special Forces agents we ever have on MWB-11. They won’t be inside Operation New Frontier, but they’re there. And we’ll keep planning for a worst-case direct military intervention in parallel.”

Both young men nodded slowly. Terhune, with a sigh, picked up his laser pointer once again.

“Back to that briefing, gentlemen,” he said. “We’re leaving next week for their version of California, so we have little time.”

Proceed to Chapter 3...