From: admiral.kurasaki@pent.gov To: presitdent@Whitehouse.gov Subject: Phobos Followup Encrypted with: PGP Date: 12.11.2097 Classification: Black Verification Code: 1ERX2D ***********EYES ONLY! - NO COPIES!*********** The following is a journal the followup team has recovered from Phobos, and the writings Lieutenant St. John gave to the investigative authorities. These may help to create sympathy for the actions of the government if this incident leaks. Lieutenant St. John has been transferred to the Crystal Palace II project, where he can be watched. The next of kin of the rest of the team have been notified of the tragic deaths of their relatives in training excersises. U.A.C. has agreed to officially terminate their research, and keep knowledge of the incident to the company board. In return they will be awarded the contract for their F-324 series of orbital patrol fighters. Any other followup measures that you have questions about may be addressed to Dan Stimson of the FBI (dstimson@hoover.gov) or Hashi Leukarth of U.A.C. (hleukath@uac.northamerica.com) ****************************** (From the journal of Raoul Mendari, lead mathematical scientist of the project) 09.10.2097 Tommorrow - the day of the test! I cannot believe it. I remember, when offered this job, I took it because of the money. But now, look at what we are doing! I cannot believe that from Joanna's idea sprang this entire project. It still seems unrealistic. I guess that when United Aerospace Corporation asked if I wanted to head their research into "high-speed; interspacial travel" I was somewhat incredulous. The concept of sending an object - any object - through space with little or no time lapse seems so farfetched that anyone would be. But when we started to show some progress and the Corporation moved us to their Phobos site, on the first moon of Mars, so we could work more easily, it started to come through that we were actually going to "beam" things like in those ancient 2-d vids of Star Trek. Well, I guess I'd better get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to require all of my attention, and I don't want to mess anything up, now that we're so close. 09.11.2097 Early this morning, I woke up, eager for the day's work ahead. I went down the hall of the base, up to the central courtyard where the hovercar was waiting to take us to the lab building. I greeted the other members of my team. Jenkins, the cool-headed computer tech, laughed at our excitement. "You honestly think this think is going to work perfectly the first time. It still has bugs that have to be worked out, I tell you." "Yes, perhaps," I replied, "But mathematically, all the relevant factors have been accounted for, and the final equations work out." "What about the seemingly irrelevant factors?" intoned Herbert Stein, the "gloom and doom" member of our research team, and also the premier biologist in the corporation. "What do you mean?" I asked. "Well, do you remember the genetic research that went on back in the '50s?" he said, rather arrogantly. "The scientists there thought that they could create a biologic for every work task, and the fact that they had mapped the gene sequencing to such a great extent supposedly meant that they could be force-grown. Their equations worked out - all relevant factors were supposedly mapped in. They went too fast with the production of biolocics - and what happened? The smallest change in environment would cause them to go insane and -" "Yes, yes, we realize what happened." I replied. "and we're not doing that here. The transporter has worked with solid objects, so why is there any reason that it shouldn't with a living organism?" "I don't know - and that's just the point. What we don't know could kill us!" Jenkins really got a laughed at that statement. "What are you, one of those Neo-depressionites they have on Earth? You are really obsessed with death, you know that?" We rode the rest of the way in silence. At the lab, the assistants were just powering the machines on when we walked in. Joanna, the research team's leader, met us on the steps up from the entrance courtyard. It was Joanna who had first thought of how to map molecules in such a way as to send an object electronically accross space, and it was her drive that had made the project more than a standard U.A.C. back-burner research idea. "All right, we're going to be sending from the smaller transport to the big one at the north end of the base today, because they've had some problems sending - their molecular readers are a little bit out of synch, " she said, as we walked into the computer control room. Stien asked, "Well, should we continue? I mean, shouldn't this be fixed before we go on?" "The write heads are fine, so there's not a problem for us to send to them. The only worry is if they send to us, it could get dicey. That's why we're doing it this way, " she replied. "Joanna," Jenkins called, "The techs say that the gates are ready - we can start anytime now." "All right," she replied, "I wand monitor one trained on our gate, and I want monitor two trained on the reciever gate." "Right-o. Monitors are up, scanners coming online." "Jenkins," I called, "can you bring up the molecular readouts on my station, along with the standard info?" "Yeah, it's coming." Stien called out, "Okay, I've got readings on the test subject." Our first live test subject was a rat, because of its anatomical resemblance to humans. The probes we sent through before said it was safe enough, but we were not going to put a human through the teleporter unless we knew other species could survive in there. "The readings are?" Joanna asked. "Blood pressure - normal. Pulse - normal. Tempreature - normal. EKG and EEG - normal and normal. Brain wave patterns - normal. Things are looking good." "Ok, here goes," said Joanna. She leaned over the microphone, and said, "Put the rat onto the teleporter." The tech assistant placed the rat onto the square of metal, and backed away quickly. "All right, Raoul, you designed the math. You do the honors, " she spoke quietly, almost fearfully. "Engaging read sequence. Molecular pattern read, and transmitted. Reciever gate's constructing. Their comparison pattern's running now - checked and verified. Molecular breakup on our end ... Gate two says they have the rat ... Gate two is running the diagnostics ... The rat's fine ... it worked. It worked!!!" I shouted the last sentence as a wave of relief swept over the room. "We did it!" Joannna cried. "We actually did it!!" "Well, now, we've taken a step, " said Jenkins. "The real test comes when the humans go through." We had decided to use two humans instead of one, so that eyewitness accounts could be compared, and ill effects could be noted more easily. However, today, data had to be colloected on the rat, analysed, collated, and made to look pretty for the corporation suits who were funding us. For all that, the day was a success. Tomorrow, the real test would come. 09.12.2097 The control room was a flurry of activity as we prepared the two volunteers to go through the gates. We were again sending from the small lab gate to the main teleporter up at the north end of the Phobos base - there was still some fluctuation with the read heads on the big one, but it was not a problem, and everybody was willing to go through with it. "Get me those electrodes!" yelled Stien to a lab assistant accross the general din of techs giving orders, assistants yelling back, the rest of the science team running about collecting last-minute data on the rat, and the high-pitched hum of the computers. The two volunteers were prepared, and overall in good spirits. They should have been, for U.A.C. was paying them an eight figure bonus upon successful completion of the experiment. I knew one of the slightly. His name was Matther Lendar. "Hey, Matt!" I called jokingly. "How is it that I design this thing and get a measly hundred grand salary, and you get ten million just for making history?" "You design it?" Jenkins called out to me, "Where would we be if I hadn't put your greek symbols to use on my toys?" "All right, people, settle down, " Joanna said over the din. It immediately became quiet. "Matt, John, I want you to head downstairs to the teleporter room. Everyone else report to your stations. Good luck, guys." As they walked towards the elevator, I couldn't help but notice the smile of confidence on both of their faces. "Okay, let's do it." Joanna said. "Stien, what are the readings?" "All normal - some nervoussness shows in the EEG, but that's to be expected." "Jenkins, bring the monitors up, same as yestarday. Standard camera on both gates, and readouts for Mendari and Stein." "All right, " Jenkins replied. "Monitors are up, and readouts coming online ... readouts are up," he said as the graph of the molecular patterns in the teleporter flashed up on my workstation's screen. "Matt, John, step onto the plate." They did so. "Raoul, start the test." "Okay, starting ... now. Reading molecular patterns ... sending patterns to gate 2 ... gate 2 is reconstructing the molecules ... " A long pause. "Well?" Joanna asked. "Hang on. We've never sent anything this big before." "Patterns are reconstructed ... what the ? Oh, sh-" "What's going on?!" Joanna, her voice tight with strain, asked. "The patterns on this side are breaking up! We're losing them!" "Can you get it back? Try, come on, try to get them back!" "No use. It's not working! The verify routine is kicking in ... maybe that can help..." It was futile. For on the monitor, the form of one man, not two, took shape. It was John, but not as we had seen him before. He was bleeding heavily form some kind of wound in the chest. He leaped off of the teleport palate, screaming something, and started to attack the tech assistant over there. The tech assistant started beating him off, when John suddenly collapsed in a pool of his own blood. Silence filled the control room. Then suddenly, people started babbling all at once. Joanna grabbed the microphone and cried, "We need a med team up at gate two stat. We've got an injury, repeat we have an injury..." Other questions filled the room. "What happened?" "Could it be the reader heads?" "could it be the agorithms?" "What if it was ..." "Oh, my -" "What about Matt? Where's Matt?" Yes, what had happened to Matt? He had disappeared in front of our very eyes, leaving no trace. The decision was made to leave the teleporters on, in case a lag in the transmission had moved him slowly. However, after Jenkins ran the diagnostics for the computer, he said not to hope for much. Matt had vanished off the face of Phobos, Earth, cyberspace, and possibly even the universe. After a few hours, when the shock really began to set in, the autopsy report arrived from the doctors. Along John's chest were tooth marks - something had bitten him to death. And whatever it was that he had seen - John was scared. He had come out of the teleporter frightened out of his mind, ready to attack anything that moved. Things were not well with the program. That day, algotrithms were tested and retested, circuits were checked and double checked, diagnostics run on every piece of equipment that was had, and recordings of the incident were reviewed. Everything was normal, except - "Jenkins, come here a second could you?" I asked. "Sure, what is it?" came the answer. "Well, I've been looking over the recordings. Molecular patterns, verification, computer checksums and diagnostics all look fine, but take a look at the recordings of the electronic signals being sent and recieved." I handed him the copy, and he quickly looked down through it. "It starts off fine... " I started to say. "... and what's this gap in the middle?" Jenkins answered. "A signal was sent, but not recieved until ... here, and it's a different signal type than before ... I can see that even without the deciphering." A new idea sprang into my head. "Is it possible to intercept an electronic signal?" I asked. "Well, yes, but if you're thinking about someone editing the signal and resending it in that short timespace ... they'd have to be the best computer slicer in the world, and have the best computer in the world, too. It couldn't happen, " he stated with such finality that that idea was crushed. "Well, I gotta go get some coffee, " Jenkins continued. "You want some?" "Nah, I'm heading up to the dorms to get some shut-eye." "All right, I'm gonna look over these signals and see if anything turns up. I'll catch you later." Later that night, my pager awakened me with a horrifying scream. "Shut it off! I said shut the gates off! To anyone recieving this broad-band transmission, we require immediate military support. Somethin' fraggin evil is coming through the portals! The computers have gone insane!" I knew that voice. It was Jenkins. He screamed again "Here they come. I can't get away, but send some help pleaaaaaaaauuuuuugh!" The request for help ended in a shriek of terror and pain. The last thing I heard were roars - like you would hear from large animals at the zoo. Then, silence. Alarm klaxons began sounding all over the base. I got my clothes on, and went outside to find the nearest guard... 09.13.2097 Terrors. Horrible creatures, seemingly from the depths of Hades itself. Pink, hairless gorrillas that bite. I'm sure that's what John died of. Now he's not the only one. Tall, faun-like creatures that kill with a touch. Brown humanoids that summon fire from their hands. Even our dead, they corrupt and use. Fighting a man you once knew, knowing he is not the same man, is an eerie experience. We hold the southern end of the base. They, the north. We have the hangar, the nuclear plant, the toxin refinery, and the command center. They hold the lab, the central admin building, the computer station, the military base/dormitories, and the large jump gate. Our scouts see them pour through the gates, more each hour. We can monitor their doings from the command center, but the computers have gone berserk. We now use them for cover to hide behind. They are coming, and unless help comes faster, we will not leave alive. 09.14.2097 I am all that is left of humanity on Phobos. Thousands of them came through the protal. They attacked with such ferocity that we could not hold any of the buildings. I am hiding with a shotgun in a closet that few people know about. I have to find a radio. People must know about this. I will find a radio as soon as I can. I don't know how much time I have before they find me. (This ends the journal of Raoul Mendari) ************************************************************ (These are the notes taken by Lieutenant St. John during the Phobos incident) 09.17.2097 Combat. Even to an experienced soldier like myself, the word brings a rush of fear to the heart. So, three days ago, when the duty roster said that there would be a briefing tomorrow, I felt the inevitable thrill that comes with the thought of risking your life. I went to my bed anticipating something bad, because you don't generally see much happen on Mars, so to bring us into any stiuation would be significant. Never in my worst nightmares had I foreseen this. Before I continue, let me identify myself for the purposes of anyone who reads these notes. I am Hunter St. John, a first Lieutenant in the United Nations marine Corps. I am in the Black Knights, the elite Special Operations force in the Earth worlds. I became an SO guy because they said it would be exciting. I guess this is exciting, but not exactly what I had in mind. On the morning of the fifteenth, I rose with the other men in my barrack. Speculation was high in the showers that morning. "What do you suppose it will be?" asked Gabralski, the newest member of our team. "Probably this random violence with the Mars colonists has gotten organized," suggested Ming Li, as he reached for a bar of soap. "I bet it has something to do with the research at Phobos," said John Caprielli. "I got a friend in United Aerospace's security division, and he says the whole place is sealed up tight, and the research itself is blacker than a cloudy midnight. No-one except the research team itself knows the whole story." "Ah, I just say its another fat-behinded politician who wants to see how well we can shoot clay targets, " quipped Ron Granston, the laid-back funnyman of our team. "Well, whatever it is, the brass sure ain't happy about it. I asked Colonel Walters about it last night, and he gave me an evil look and just said, 'You'll find out tomorrow, soldier.' That's it! He didn't say nothin' else!" said Li. Caprielli looked over at me, and asked, "The real thing?" "Yeah, I think so." After breakfast, we crowded into the battalion briefing room. All three hundred of us took our seats the moment General Hagel walked up to the podium. He cleared his throat and dove right in. "All right, lets get this meeting started. What you are about to hear is considered 'black.' The 'black' security classification means that capital punishment is in order for revelation of anything said in this meeting to anyone not cleared for black projects. That means, gentlemen, that you may tell the head of the I.I.A., the president of the U.N., and maybe the General Military staff. All others are out." This swept a murmur of conversation accross the room. A black project, cleared for three hundred people! It must not be just something bad, but something immensely urgent as well. "For the past two years, the well-known defense contracting agency, United Aerospace Corporation, has been experimenting with teleportation. This project was conceptualized and headed by one Joanna Smenthan, of the U.A.C. "Several days ago, they had their first live test. The subject was a rat, the first living being to be transported through space without physical means. The day after that, the first humans were prepared to go through the teleporter. "Of these two men, only one came out of the teleporter. He had been bitten by something while in the lapse, was bleeding heavily, and then after emerging, attacked a research assistant. A short time later, the man died of his injuries. "Twelve hours after that, our base recieved this transmission. Captain, play the tape!" The room filled with the static of the radio broadcast. Then, a voice filled with fear came on, yelling loudly: "Shut it off! I said shut the gates off! To anyone recieving this broad-band transmission, we require immediate military support. Somethin' fraggin evil is coming through the portals! The computers have gone insane! Here they come. I can't get away, but send some help pleaaaaaaaauuuuuugh!" The voice stopped in mid-scream with a muffled gurgle, and died away, leaving only animalistic roars to be heard in the background. The lights came up, and as I looked around, I saw most of our battalion had gone white with shock. General Hagel resumed his brief: "That is the last transmission we heard from the scientists at Phobos. "Four hours after the broadcast, we sent up a ten-man I-team to investigate and report their findings. Upon arrival, the I-team began transmitting their report. "The remaining scientists, assistants and security personell were fighting the creatures that had come through the portal. In a matter of hours, the creatures had occupied the northern half of the Phobos compound. The situation stabilized for a twelve hour period, and then the portals opened up transmission with hundreds of alien reinforcements. The base was quickly taken, and no survivors were left. "The I-team's last transmission came through two days ago. The radioman, who had hid in a closet with a scientist, continued to braodcast as long as possible. From him, we know that the rest of the I-team is dead, and that there are now upwards of two hundred fifty creatures occupying the base. The man's message ended when he was heard by the creatures -" A deathly silence filled the room for a moment. Many of us knew the members of teh I-team slightly. "This, then is teh Black Knights' mission, " Hagel continued. "The battalion will be flown up to Phobos via shuttlecraft, establish control of the base, and then destroy the portals. Colonel Walters?" Walters walked up to the podium, and behind him, a map of teh conpound was displayed on the screen. "The plan for this assault is simple: We will fly into the hanger at the southern end of teh base. After the hangar is cleared, the battalion will proceed norht through each building. Building assignments are as follows: Alpha group is assigned to claer and demolish the Nuclear Plant. Bravo Group is assigned to the Toxin Refinery. Charlie group has the Command Center, and Delta Gruop has the Lab itself. That is where the first jump gate is located. Echo group, after Delta has cleared the lab itself, you will destroy the gate, get any relevant information from the computers, and destroy them also." (A short laugh came as a "real" assignment for the Datic Warriors of the Black Knights was assigned. Normally, Echo group fights from desktops, not fight their way to the desktops.) "All right, let's continue. Central Processing - the main Admin buidling - will be cleared by Foxtrot Group. The old military base and surrounding dormitories will be taken care of by Golf group. Computer station is to be cleared by Hotel group, and checked by Echo group. The main jump gate, where the anomaly first occured, will be cleared by Io group." I leaned forward. He had not yet mentioned my group, Epsilon. As well as myself, Epsilon contained Gabralski, Li, Caprielli, Granston, and our team leader, Captain Ira O'Neil. Our group was so small because we fought the really covert missions, where small was good. "Epsilon's job is the final and most dangerous." Good. I liked final, and dangerous was my specialty. "After the base has been cleared by the other teams, they will allow Epsilon group to advance to the Lab, where a one-megaton nuclear bomb will be placed to detonate after all assault shuttles have left the planet. Further orders on Epsilon's mission will be given by Captain O'Neil later." "All right, report to your group leaders for specific orders regarding platoon objectives. This breifing is at an end. Good luck gentlemen, we leave at 1600." The colonel left the breifing room, and the silence broke. "Phobos? Aliens?" "What do tehy look like?" "I don't care. What do they fight like?" "This ain't happenin', man. I knew people on Phobos." "Well, I guess we'd better start cleaning the guns." "Nuclear bombs? Those Epsilons must be insane to handle them." "Nah, they're just brave." "Brave? Terminally stupid is more like it!" Soon after, we had broken up into our teams, recieved our orders, and went back to our barracks to prepare our weapons. We were leaving in six hours. We filed into the barracks, contemplating our mission. It was not the first time that we had used nukes, but it was a new situation, and we were jittery. Captain O'Niel followed us in, and when we were all assembled, he cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, as we will be the last to leave the moon base, we will be taking a separate shuttle there. Our main objective is to destroy the jump gates, and get out with all of us alive. Therefore, in order to fulfill that mission, we will be taking two nuclear devices with us. With luck, we will only use one, but we must destroy that base.