Jack Kolby had about a million unresolved issues he was turning over in his head—maybe more. The powerful executive was looking at the mountain of paperwork sitting on his desk as his brain worked at warp speed. It was of the utmost importance to control the telio reserves . . .

  The alarm siren screeched throughout the foundry.

  Jack stood up, startled, and walked out of his office, annoyed with the interruption. He’d barely had time to sit down at his desk. After the last man in the expedition had crossed the portal, he’d stayed in the observation room awhile, listening indifferently to Nathan Brook’s impassioned prognostications with respect to the guaranteed success of the operation.

  “They’ll find the answers,” Nathan had said to no one in particular. “I’m convinced of it.”

  Jack had nodded, not paying attention, focused on the preparations. The soldiers had cordoned off the portal area with police tape so no one could get near the pillars and had established shifts for guard duties. Major Gordon had made sure there was a military presence in all of them. No one could go near the portal without express authorization. The soldiers whose posts were in the observation room had received orders to record in their reports even the most insignificant details. This had caused serious pushback from the scientists who claimed this could interfere with their ability to adequately carry out their duties, but the complaints had rolled off Gordon without having had the least effect on him. Security came first.

  Tired of seeing Gordon delight in exercising his authority, Jack had gone back to his office, convinced that he’d have to wait at least two days before Nathan’s prophetic qualities might be validated.

  Now, in the hallway, Jack was leaning over the railing and scanning the floor below for an explanation for the annoying sound of the alarm. The two soldiers on guard were pointing their guns at the center of the fog. Jack saw Gordon leave the observation room and he caught up with him as he was going down the stairs.

  “What’s going on?” Jack checked his watch. “They left a little less than an hour ago.”

  “I don’t know yet,” grumbled Gordon. “Let’s go find out.”

  His curiosity piqued, Jack accepted the invitation and followed Gordon over to the soldier who had sounded the alarm.

  “Report!” ordered Gordon.

  “Someone is coming back, sir.” Droplets of sweat were forming on the soldier’s forehead. “We think we see a human outline in the fog.”

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  Gordon and Jack peered into the fog. It was moving as it always had; they detected nothing unusual.

  “He’s disappeared now, but it was the silhouette of a man, sir,” the soldier hurried to add. We both saw him.”

  His companion nodded under Major Gordon’s interrogating eyes. Jack continued staring into the mist, in search of something that might have confused the soldiers.

  “Your nerves got the better of you” said Gordon. Next time—”

  Jack interrupted him, grabbing his arm.

  “There’s something in there.”

  An elongated section of fog, just inches off the floor, hung at the edge of the rest of the cloud’s movement. It was gaining in size, and its irregular border was outlined against the light from the center of the fog. It looked like something solid. They heard a metallic sound, and then a government issued pistol appeared, bouncing off the dirty tiles of the foundry floor. Shortly thereafter, the body of a soldier emerged from the fog, rolling across the floor inside the perimeter of the pillars. The body was not moving. It remained there, face down. The face was hidden by one of the arms.

  “Get rid of this stupid police tape!” shouted Gordon. “And call a doctor. You two, bring him here immediately.”

  The soldiers reacted quickly. They cut down the tape and ran to the unidentified man.

  “Careful!” warned Jack. “There’s something else there.”

  A new silhouette had taken shape. They had to wait until it got closer before they could see what it was. It was moving forward slowly. Several interminable moments passed before they could make out that it was a man. He was limping, favoring his left leg, but no one made a move to run to his aid. Finally, he appeared through the last wisps of mist. His steps were shaky and his body swayed slightly from one side to the other. With considerable effort, he took two more steps and collapsed, exhausted. Now they had two men down in the span of as many minutes.

  Jack ran to the man, bending down over him to see if he was wounded. Gordon joined him a half second later.

  “Close the portal,” the man whispered. Exhausted and weak, his voice was barely audible. “They’re following us . . .”

  “Rick, is that you?” Jack turned the man’s head a little, trying to identify him. “Rick! What happened? Who is following you?”

  “We can’t close the portal.” Gordon leaned over Rick, agitated. “What about the rest of them? We can’t abandon them! We have to send in a rescue team right away.”

  Captain Northon grasped Gordon’s hand and squeezed it weakly.

  “Don’t send anyone . . . they’re all . . . dead.” Rick let go of the major’s hand, closed his eyes and lost consciousness, the look of panic still drawn on his face.

  Jack put two fingers on Rick’s neck and found a pulse, but his breathing was very shallow.

  “He’s alive. Where is that doctor!? Gordon, you heard him; order them to close the portal before whatever it is that’s chasing them slips through.”

  “That would mean abandoning everyone else. I need confirmation. No way I’m going to sentence my—”

  An explosion resounded throughout the foundry. Jack saw one of the pillars disappear behind Gordon’s head, leaving a cloud of black dust in its place. Instinctively, he put his hands over his ears, closed his eyes, and crouched down. When he looked up again, he discovered five black clouds slowly dissipating where the pillars had been floating before . . . and not a trace of the fog.

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