The Bergmann Protocol
leg pocket of her flight suit. Holding it up, she pressed the power button and waited for the device to boot up. Dietrich’s face was bathed in a green glow as the screen lit up, making her look more menacing than usual.
“We should first establish the location and date,” said Dietrich, still looking at the datapad, “That will dictate which course of action we should take.”
“We could use the Starfall protocol,” suggested Gillitzer, “wouldn’t that remove most of the evidence?”
“The Council only want that used as a last resort,” she said abruptly, “too much chance of pollution.”
Dietrich’s attention was drawn back to the datapad as a shrill beep signalled that it had finished its analysis. As she looked at the information on the screen, a broad, mocking grin slowly began to creep across her face. It was an expression that suddenly made Gillitzer feel decidedly uncomfortable.
“Oh dear, Captain,” she said with obvious delight in her voice, “it looks like our decision has been made for us!”
“What do you mean?” asked Gillitzer with growing anxiety.
“We must employ the Bergmann protocol!”
With that, Dietrich turned the datapad around so that Gillitzer could read the information upon its screen. His eyes ignored the dozens of lines of data that were scrolling across the bottom half of the pad, gazing solely on the date and location that were flashing at the top. It took only a moment for him to realise the significance of the information, after which, his heart sank.
The Bergmann protocol had been conceived and developed during the earliest phase of ‘Operation Phoenix’. Designed by Doctor Ernst Bergmann as a paradox counter-measure, the basic idea behind the procedure was, in the event of a crash, to disguise the wreckage of the temporal craft as something entirely different.
Historical documents, captured after the invasion of America, had shown them the protocol, in all probability, was to be used on three separate occasions. This was confirmed by its use after two previous crashes; Firstly in 1965, then again in 1953. The documents had also stated that the third use of the protocol was to be at the exact time and location that Gillitzer was staring at on Dietrich’s datapad.
“Oh no,” he said, mournfully, “not here…not now!”
“I’m afraid so,” said Dietrich, “it looks like there is no escaping the fact.”
“Is there no other way?”
“You know as well as I do, Captain,” she replied in a condescending tone, “that we have no choice…we have to do this. In a way, we already have done it!”
Dietrich paused briefly as her Chief engineer, Peterson, emerged from the Barkhorn and began to make his way down the ramp. He was followed by his two technicians, who were pushing a large gurney before them. The three men stopped at the base of the ramp, bringing the gurney to a halt, and offered a salute to the Gillitzer and Dietrich.
“This is a pre-determined event,” continued Dietrich, ignoring the engineers salute, “if we don’t use the Bergmann protocol, we will not just fail to prevent a paradox, we will cause one!”
Gillitzer belatedly returned Peterson’s salute, then offered a brief nod of resigned agreement to Dietrich. Despite his protests, he knew that everything she had said to him was right. He would, after all, much rather his reputation be damaged, than the earth be destroyed.
“The equipment is ready, Captain,” interrupted Peterson.
“Then why on earth are you still standing here?” Dietrich snapped, “Get on with it, man”
With that, the red-headed engineer sharply saluted once more then turned on his heels and started to make his way to the crash site. The two technicians promptly followed pushing the gurney, which gently bobbed and weaved as it hovered over the rough desert ground.
“And don’t drag your heels getting that stasis field up!” she called after them, “we haven’t got much time.”
“Ironic, isn’t it?” said Dietrich, as they too, headed for the Kolibri, “that despite the fact that we possess the ability to travel through time, we never seem to have enough of it.”
Gillitzer was only half listening. His thoughts were firmly on the future consequences of the night’s events. The high council would, of course, hold a thorough enquiry into the crash, although it was not his greatest concern. The thing that most worried him, was the inevitable ridicule he would receive from the other Zeit Korps pilots.
The final use of the protocol was, historically, the most infamous. There had been much speculation amongst the pilots as to which crew would be responsible for it, to the point that they had started a sweepstake. Gillitzer had even bet twenty Neo-marks, himself.
“I’m going to be a laughing stock, aren’t I?” he said ruefully after a few moments.
“Most Probably.” Answered Dietrich, without the slightest hint of sympathy. She knew only too well how much leg-pulling, Gillitzer would receive from the other pilots. In fact, she was already planning to do a fair amount of it, herself.
“Of all the cursed luck!” continued Gillitzer, “why did this have to happen to me?”
“Had to be someone,” answered Dietrich, “why not you?”
They reached the crash site, just as Braal and the medical team began moving the wounded back to the Barkhorn. Peterson and his men had already unloaded the gurney, and were busy setting up their equipment. Gillitzer watched in silence as the engineers hurriedly started to erect a perimeter of odd looking tripods around the stricken craft.
Once all the equipment was in place, the three men returned to the gurney. Peterson took the data pad from the thigh pocket of his fatigues and began to carry out a few final checks. Once satisfied that everything was in working order, he then double tapped the pad’s screen and activated the stasis field.
Gillitzer was aware of the principals behind stasis field technology but, until now, had never actually seen one in operation. He watched, intrigued, as the top of each of the tripods begun to open. Each of them then spread out several whip-like aerials, giving them the appearance of some strange, spidery plants.
His ears were then filled with a high-pitched buzzing, as the tripod aerials began, in turn, to vibrate. The air surrounding the ship then seemed to start shimmering as if heat was rising from the desert floor. There was then a dull popping sound as large silvery bubble appeared between the tripods, completely obscuring the Kolibri from view.
“So, what happens now?” asked Gillitzer, as he stared at his distorted reflection in the bubble’s pulsating surface.
“First, they’ll deactivate and remove the quantum core,” Replied Dietrich, as they watched the engineering team disappear inside the field, “Then they’ll replace it with a dummy. It’ll take decades of reverse engineering just to discover it doesn’t do a damn thing. Once that’s done, the nanobots will be released. They will target and destroy all electronic systems, as well as making a few cosmetic changes.”
“How long will it take?” asked Gillitzer.
“Finished!” interrupted Peterson, as he re-emerged from the bubbles surface.
“God in Heaven!” exclaimed Gillitzer, “Already?”
“That’s a Mark Six stasis field, Captain,” said the chief engineer, wiping the sweat from his brow, “for every two and a half seconds that passes outside the bubble, an hour passes inside it.”
“I never knew that they were that powerful.”
“Yes, it’s funny, isn’t it?” said Dietrich sarcastically, “It’s taken us almost as little time to solve the problem, as it did for you to make it”
Gillitzer silently seethed at the comment as he watched the rest of the engineers pass through the liquid like surface of the bubble. Once they were all clear of stasis field, Peterson took out his datapad once again and keyed in the deactivation sequence. There was a brief crackling sound as the stasis bubble dissolved away as swiftly as it had appeared.
With the field deactivated, the engineering team spread out around the crash site and began gathering up the tripods. Before they ha
d loaded the apparatus back onto the gurney, Commander Braal came marching back to Gillitzer’s side.
“The crew are all safely aboard the Barkhorn, Captain,” he said, whilst offering a quick salute.
“How are they doing?” enquired Gillitzer.
“Lietner and Ross, are both severely concussed,” said Braal, “We gave them both extra sedatives. Harris is in a bit of discomfort, but he’ll be okay. How are the engineers doing? Can they recover her?”
“The damage is too great” began Gillitzer, “They are going t-”
“We are employing the Bergmann protocol,” Dietrich butted in.
“The Bergmann Protocol?!” exclaimed Braal, “But, that means we’ve crashed in-“
“Got it in one, commander!” interrupted Dietrich, once more, “Now all we need to do is apply the finishing touches…the ‘piece de la resistance’.”
She gestured over to the gurney as Peterson and his men loaded the last of the tripods and began opening the side panels. The two technicians then started to unload unloading several black, body bags, five in total, and proceeded to lay them carefully on the ground. Gillitzer and Braal, immediately began to help the engineering team as they started dragging the bags towards the Kolibri.
Once the five men had reached the bridge, Peterson and his technicians all donned a set of surgical gloves, before starting to slowly unzip the body bags. Both Gillitzer and Braal watched with morbid fascination as the team, with the surgical care,