"It's an active window, Colonel. We'd better be going!" Lieutenant Juarez stood in the doorway, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other, as Colonel Davies bent over a pile of papers on his desk, oblivious to the frantic buzz of activity which had marked the past half hour. "Sir? Did you hear? It's a go!" Finally, the colonel looked up, his eyes somewhat unfocused, his thoughts drifting slowly back to the present. "What, soldier?" "The mission's a go. We've got an active window." Juarez repeated, taking care to enunciate clearly, hoping to punch through the fog. "The men are ready." Colonel Davies sat unmoving, looking at the young man before him. The lieutenant's dark features exuded intelligence and a sense of unease. "Tell the men I'll be right there," he said. Then added, as the man turned to leave, "What was your name again, son?" "Juarez, sir. Lieutenant Jaime Juarez." "Juarez," Davies repeated vaguely. "Is that all, sir?" "Yes. No, I..." He seemed to search for the words. "You're doing a fine job. I just wanted you to know." Juarez briefly stood at attention, "Thank you, sir. Is that all, sir?" "Yes, that's all." Juarez turned down the passageway and began making his way back to the launch room. Frowning as he slid down the steep ladder to the passage below, he thought the old man was cracking up. It couldn't happen at a worse time, there simply was too much at stake! What would happen if the colonel completely lost it? He knew it could happen and he knew it had happened before, to other men and other missions. He'd never seen it, but he'd read about it back at the academy. It had never occurred to him that he might have to deal with it himself. Arriving at the staging area, Juarez quickly surveyed the crew. Eleven men arrayed around the room in full battle gear; they looked more like something from an old, low-budget movie than a high-tech, top-secret government project. Most of them squatted beside their gear, eyes shut in a catnap, or lost in personal thoughts and silent prayers. Each soldier had his own way of dealing with the possibility of his own demise. He touched the crucifix beneath his shirt. Eternity was always one second away. "What's up, Lieutenant?" Sergeant O'Dell asked. "We're moving out. Colonel Davies will be down momentarily. Have your men ready!" "They couldn't be more ready, sir. They're bored stiff." "Well, wake them up. I want them looking smart when the old man comes down." "Yes, sir!" the sergeant snapped, and turning to his men he began barking orders. They stirred reluctantly, gathering their gear and putting everything in place. In no time, they were ready, awaiting further instructions. Colonel Davies entered the room. Every eye followed his progress as he wound his way around the consoles and equipment racks. He looked old and frail, with dark, puffy bags beneath his eyes. A twinge of fear sparked in their hearts, and their confidence began to erode. Suddenly, those who had not prayed reconsidered, while those who had, revisited theirs. Some looked to Juarez, hoping he would speak up and do something to stop this mission. The colonel stood before the gateway, again lost in thought. Everyone waited for his usual pep talk about how important this mission was and how they were more than a team, they were a family and how family looks out for each other. He didn’t. He turned and took them in with a sweeping gaze. Then he looked at the lieutenant. “Fire it up. Let’s get this damned thing over with.” “Yes, sir!” Then turning to the technician manning the console, he said, “Let it rip.” The metallic framework in the center of the room contained nothingness, a blackness through which no light penetrated. It began to emit a low hum. An occasional electrical arc shot across the murky blackness. Then it lit up like the screen on an old television when there was no signal, all gray, white, and black static. Finally, there appeared a scene before them, a tropical savannah. They were apparently looking down from a height and could barely make out the scene below. “Check your weapons!” the sergeant intoned. A higher-pitched hum than before filled the room as each soldier’s weapon went live. Juarez looked at Davies. “Sir?” The colonel nodded. Juarez signaled to the sergeant. The sergeant barked out an order. “Detail, forward!” And with that, the soldiers moved together, two by two, through the metallic frame set in the center of the room, stepping from a ringing metal floor to a rocky surface, trading cool air conditioning for tropical heat and humidity. As they filed through, the soldiers fanned out, each taking up defensive positions, scanning 360 degrees, rifles up and ready. With a deep sigh, Colonel Davies trotted through the gateway, followed by Juarez. With an electric sizzle, the portal they’d stepped through snapped shut. Behind them, only the sloping rock of a volcano. Now they could see clearly across the savannah. The scene below was complete chaos. Animals of all sorts ran in every direction. The creatures came straight from the pages of some paleontology textbook, except for where the scientists had gotten it wrong. Apparently, a number of dinosaurs sported feathers, and some had fur. Others were leathery skinned as imagined. In the center of the plain, wedged into the earth at a steep angle, was a large sleek spacecraft, smoking pouring from the wreckage. “Damn!” one soldier exclaimed. “It’s true. God dammed aliens landed on earth!” “That is yet to be ascertained,” Juarez said. “What do you mean?” the soldier asked. “It’s right in front of us!” “Yes, there’s a spacecraft in front of us, Lucas.  But what isn’t for sure is what its origins are. Perhaps it’s one of ours from the future. We’re here to figure that out.” That’s when a loud, thunderous sound echoed all around them. Suddenly another craft, this one much smaller, came roaring overhead from the other side of the mountain. It shot out over the plain, then turned and came back towards them, more slowly. As it neared, the ground erupted above them on the side of the mountain. The ship was firing on them. “What the hell!” Sergeant O’Dell shouted. There was no place to take cover—not a rock, not a tree, nothing. The next barrage cut a swath across their formation, bodies exploding, as well as the earth beneath their feet. Men cried out, scrambling to find a place to hide. Lieutenant Juarez turned to his left only to see O’Dell on the ground in two pieces. Beyond him, a scene of total carnage presented itself: body parts strewn here and there,  men missing limbs, still conscious, blank looks of shock upon their faces. Half the force had been killed with the second salvo. The ship, which had passed close overhead turned again, readying itself for another pass. Juarez searched for Colonel Davies and saw him standing stock still, muttering to himself. He approached him, saying, “Colonel, what are your orders, sir?” Davies shook his head, “Every time it’s always the same no matter what we do. I don’t know how to stop it.” “What, sir?” Finally, turning towards Juarez, the colonel said, “It doesn’t matter what we do. Shoot, don’t shoot. Advance down the hill, cower against the rocks. No matter what we do, it always ends the same way.” “What are you talking about, sir?” Juarez asked. He’s flipped his lid, he thought. Just like he feared he would. What now? “Open fire on them. Or don’t. You decide. I’m done.” Juarez gave the command and the remaining troopers took aim as the ship began its next run, opening fire with everything they had. Every round exploded in a puff before reaching the target, as if something stood between the ship and their position—a force field of some sort. The ship sent round three their way and Colonel Davies caught the first hit, toppling backward in two halves. "It's an active window, Colonel. We'd better be going!" Lieutenant Juarez stood in the doorway, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the next, as Colonel Davies bent over a pile of papers on his desk, oblivious to the frantic buzz of activity which had marked the past half hour. "Sir? Did you hear? It's a go!" Colonel Davies couldn’t shake the feeling, like a premonition of disaster. Everything in him cried out Danger! Abort! But what was a marine to do? They were not ones to shrink back from duty. The generals say go, and you go, no questions, no hesitation. Finally, he looked up, his eyes somewhat unfocused, his thoughts drifting slowly back to the present. "What, soldier?" "The mission's a go. We've got an active window." Juarez repeated, taking care to enunciate clearly, hoping to punch through the fog. "The men are ready." Colonel Davies sat unmoving, looking at the young man before him. The lieutenant's dark features exuded intelligence and a sense of unease. "Tell the men I'll be right there.”

Hunger is My Name

Operation Liberation: The Revenge of the Primates

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Beyond the Active Window: A Journey Through Time

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