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Ramses had it figured out. Through a lot of experimentation and trial and
error, he was able to come up with a device that measured an individual’s
cosmic frequency. This was all taking place on the quantum level. Normal
samples, like blood, did not give him any useful information about them in
this regard. They needed an EEG. He theorized that every brane in the bulk
vibrated at a unique frequency of its constituent particles and waves. Each
one had some form of the cosmic microwave background radiation left over
from its inception event, and the collection of subatomic particles that
made up any individual or object from that universe harmonized with that
radiation. When something was removed from its universe, and placed in
another, it exhibited a disharmony with its environment. By sampling the
brainwaves of thousands of people in Stoutverse, Ramses had been able to
come up with a baseline, and then write an algorithm which compared that
baseline to visitors, such as himself and Olimpia.
The three men who came through the Westfall doors each disharmonized with
the environment in a different way, as did their current group of Ochivari
prisoners of war. By comparing the three men’s cosmic frequencies to the
Ochivari, Ramses was able to determine that they were not from the same
universe. Unfortunately, that wasn’t inherently good enough as the human
allies were suspected of originating from somewhere other than the Ochivari
homeworld anyway. He needed more data, and more time, to dig deeper into the
subatomic properties. He now believed that he could also determine whether
an individual had ever been to another universe, even if they had
only stayed there for a few minutes. Each brane evidently left its signature
upon their quantum consciousness. A cosmic imprint, he called it. It didn’t
seem to work with inanimate objects, but he was able to detect a number of
these imprints on himself and Olimpia, as well as the Ochivari. They were
not present in the other three visitors, nor the natives of this universe.
They were probably not spies, or they likely would have traveled to other
universes before.
It was now required for all residents of this version of Earth to submit to
a cosmic frequency test to make sure that they were all from this brane, and
had spent their entire lives here. That was beyond Ramses’ control. He
invented the machine, and the local researchers had reverse-engineered it
while he was out of the timestream. Primus Mihajlović probably would have
told them if they had discovered any spies using the new test, but his mind
was preoccupied with something else. After using other interrogation and
investigative techniques to decide whether the three Westfallers had good
intentions or bad, an attempt was made to assimilate them into society
somehow. It did not last very long. Last year, Dutch Haines—the gardener who
was rather apathetic about all this—was bored enough to ask to meet one of
the Ochivar in person. Naraschone granted this opportunity. If he turned out
to indeed be an evil spy, seeing how he interacted with the POW would only
give them more information.
Shortly after Dutch left the prison, the Ochivar fell ill, and ultimately
succumbed to a mysterious disease that doctors could not explain. It was
apparently airborne, so the rest of the prisoners contracted it too. The
first one to get sick was the closest to Patient Zero, and the last one was
the farthest, but they all suffered from it, and they all died. Dutch was
carrying some kind of pathogen, even though he wasn’t exhibiting any signs
or symptoms himself. Other humans appeared to be just fine too, for he had
been free to move about the world before they placed him back in quarantine.
Several months ago, another Ochivar came through a portal to complete his
nefarious tasks. They sicked Dutch on him, and he too died. They had all but
proved the viability of a new weapon against this multiversal threat. A
biological weapon. They began to research it.
“We could wipe them all out,” Elder suggested.
“You can do what?” Ramses had heard him, but he couldn’t believe it.
“All we have to do is infect one Ochivar, and then let them try to go home.
The pandemic will spread from there.”
Olimpia shook her head. “You can’t do that.”
“Oh, but we can.” Elder was apparently the biggest proponent of this
project, believing that it would save human lives, and render the Transit
Army obsolete. His reasoning was not without its merits. The Ochivari
operated by intruding on other people’s universes, making judgments on their
lifestyles and cultures, and deploying their own virus, which sterilized the
entire population. Fighting fire with fire was how he justified this
plan.
“Did Primus Mihajlović agree to this?” Ramses questioned.
“This is a military operation,” Elder explained. “It would not be completely
out of her hands, but the Generals can override her decision in such
matters, especially since it’s not taking place on her world.”
“The hell it’s not,” Olimpia argued.
“The initial infection is, but the latter deaths will happen on the Ochivari
homeworld,” Elder explained. “It’s foolproof. Humans are totally
unaffected.”
“You don’t know that,” Ramses contended. “Pathogens mutate. If you were to
dispatch this to the major Ochivari population, it could change and evolve,
and eventually maybe become a threat to humanity.” This was wrong; probably
a war crime. They had to do everything in their power to stop it, which was
easier said than done. They were powerful, yeah, but they still didn’t exist
most of the year. That gave this new program a lot of freedom to continue.
If Naraschone didn’t know about it, then it was his responsibility to tell
her while he still had the chance.
This actually seemed to resonate with Elder a bit. “Well, we can’t stop it
now.”
“Yes, you can. Don’t let Dutch infect anyone else. It’s immoral,” Olimpia
began. “There is a reason that biological weapons were declared illegal
worldwide where we come from. Besides the logistical issues with targeting
and containment, they are a profound human rights violation.” She dismissed
Elder’s argument with a waggle of her finger. “It doesn’t matter that the
Ochivari are not humans. We are. Humanity is not about how you’re
treated, but how you treat others. This. Is. Wrong.”
“You don’t understand. Dutch has already infected two more Ochivari, and
they’re about to leave. I wanted you to watch.” He pressed a button
underneath the window, which raised the curtain. Two clearly weak Ochivari
were heading towards each other, coughing and heaving. Each one was being
escorted by a human in a hazmat suit, forcing them to keep walking using
cattle prods. “We asked Carlin to just send them back for us, but he
refused. He said that you would not condone it,” Elder explained. “He
appears to have been right about that.”
“The torture devices alone are immoral,” Olimpia pointed out.
Ramses lurched, but Elder took him by the wrist. “If you’re really worried
about the disease mutating, then I wouldn’t teleport in there if I were you.
That’s why they’re wearing suits. We’re careful.”
Ramses was still angry, but he recognized how powerless he was here. It
didn’t look like it was going to work this time, but these people were going
to try again, and they just had to wait a day. Someone had to be here to
talk them out of it. The Primus was their best option for that. He did
teleport away, but not to stop the Ochivari from trying to return to their
home universe. He instead retrieved Naraschone from her meeting in one of
the South American bunkers, and brought her to the observation room.
She looked at everyone present. “You told me you would wait until I could be
here,” she said to Elder.
“It was too important to wait a year,” he replied. “I wanted these two to
see it too.”
“I thought she didn’t know,” Olimpia complained.
Elder shook his head. “I never said that.”
“Madam Primus, you cannot let this go on,” Olimpia begged her. “Put a stop
to this. Please.”
“Pia. Trust me, it’s fine,” Ramses said calmly.
Naraschone narrowed her eyes on him. “What do you have planned?”
“Nothing,” he said. “I don’t have to do anything. This isn’t going to work.”
“Why not?”
“Just look.”
They watched as the two Ochivari drew nearer to each other. The hazmat
prison guards grabbed them by the shoulders, and turned them around,
slamming their backs against each other until they were locked up. At first,
they seemed to be refusing to open their portal, but the cattle prods came
out again. So they relented. Their skin rippled, and glowed with a slight
increase in temperature. Their wings stiffened up, and they began to
struggle against each other in a battle of wills and biology on a level that
the humans could neither see nor truly fathom. After a few minutes of this,
they both disassembled, with their body parts falling to the ground.
According to the research, when a group of Ochivari wanted to create a
brane-hopping portal, they would perform this back wrestling ritual, and it
would end with one of them exploding into a million pieces while the other
was pulled into the resulting portal. This time, no portal formed, and they
only exploded into maybe a couple dozen pieces. Ramses was right to believe
that it wouldn’t work. The infection was just too much for them.
“What happened?” Naraschone demanded to know.
“They’re too sick,” Ramses figured. “You need strength to form a portal,
whether you’re an Ochivari, or a human choosing one. Neither of them
had it. You and Dutch made sure of that.”
A few hours later, they tried the experiment again, but instead of waiting
for the subjects to exhibit symptoms, they made them do their wing fighting
right away, and just hoped that they did end up getting sick, and eventually
began to spread the disease. But it didn’t work either. They were too sick
and weak immediately upon infection. The fifth subject died in this
universe, same as all the others. Ramses and Olimpia were pleased, but they
should not have been, because Elder and Naraschone came up with a new plan.
Instead of infecting an Ochivar here, and then sending them home, they would
just send Dutch there. That came with its own questions on morality, so
Ramses had to stop it this time. He teleported Dutch away, and hid him
somewhere on this planet where hopefully no one would find him.
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