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TUNNEL VISION

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Erica L. Satifka and Rob McMonigal


“Captain Chen,” the MP says to the American Army officer, “I’d like to introduce you to Afzat Kamnen. The, uh, diplomat.”

Even without the introduction, Captain Paul Chen would have identified the man on sight. His grayish, angular face is topped by a beehivelike mass of dark red hair, and he’s dressed in a caftan embroidered with a multitude of unfamiliar flowers. A pair of silver shoes like ballerina slippers completes the ensemble. The man’s appearance is both comical and otherworldly, but Chen supposes there’s a better-than-even chance it’s the height of formal attire in Afzat’s branch of the military.

This is the man who killed ten thousand people in rural China? Chen thinks. Or at least, Afzat had been part of the group that had carried out the attack. Chen finds it hard to believe, although that could be said for this entire situation.

Chen’s colleague, Colonel Iris Fikowski, is already there, sitting across from the strange man. Chen slides in beside her. They’d been tasked with this man’s interrogation until their replacements could arrive from Washington. Protocol was off the table, at least for now.

“Well, does he talk?” As Chen speaks, a small silver device in front of Fikowski sings out in a tinny electronic voice, a language like nothing he’s ever heard before. It reminds him of the agitation cycle of a washing machine. The noise gives Chen an even bigger headache than he started with.

Afzat Kamnen, the diplomat-slash-potential war criminal, makes a face that isn’t quite a smile. “Yes, I can talk,” says the translating device in highly accented but intelligible English. Chen barely pays attention, though, because he can’t stop thinking of Afzat’s teeth. Though the rest of the diplomat looks human enough, his entirely too-white chompers are sharp and pointed like a shark’s. Chen represses a shiver. Military men aren’t supposed to show fear.

“Diplomat Kamnen, thank you for your patience,” Fikowski says. “Now, let’s begin. I’ll start with the big question: did your people orchestrate the attack in Shaanxi Province at 0800 hours this morning?”

“Yes,” Afzat replies through the device. “You know we did. Why do you ask?”

“Then we have no choice but to—” Chen starts, only to be cut off by Fikowski.

“Review the situation carefully,” she finishes.

In fairness, it’s quite the situation. And, Chen thinks, it’s above his pay grade. He supposes that’s why Fikowski is here, even if she has a reputation for impulsiveness.

Five years ago, Chinese scientists had found a way into another world, an alternate Earth supposedly devoid of intelligent life. Their military kept the discovery a secret as long as they could, but it wasn’t hard to figure out that something strange was going on. The resource droughts of the 2040s hadn’t affected China as much as the United States, the Afrizone, or any other nation-state on the rapidly depleting Earth, and the Chinese could only claim to have made a discovery of new deposits within their own borders so often. And space mining had been a dead end for every country that had attempted it.

Eventually, an American spy had located the clandestine mining operation deep in the heart of Shaanxi Province, hundreds of miles from the closest village. She’d managed to film it, at the cost of her life. The spy’s video circulated for days, hitting every content provider. The Chinese government couldn’t deny it, so they didn’t, and they continued to mine tangible resources from thin air.

Then, this morning, there’d been an attack in rural China, an explosion no official or unofficial enemy of China took credit for. Information was scarce, but the blast didn’t even appear to have originated on Earth. Hours later, US Army officials had found Afzat Kamnen wandering around the Sierra Army Depot, taking responsibility for the attack. He’d claimed to be from the world beyond the Chinese mining portal. The story—and the diplomat himself—were too outlandish not to be believed.

“How did you get here?” Chen asks, directing his question at the device instead of Afzat. “You didn’t walk from China.”

Afzat gives Chen and Fikowski another one of his not-smiles. The pointed teeth shine like beacons. “I emerged here using a device I brought with me, which is now in your care.”

“As far as we can tell, it’s not a weapon,” Fikowski says to Chen, “but we still didn’t think he should be allowed to have it. It’s with our technology exploitation team.”

Chen runs his hand over his face, then addresses Afzat. “You’re saying you can open these—”

“Tunnels,” Afzat’s translator says, though the man’s actual words sound more like a broken furnace coughing.

Chen’s not sure he believes the guy, but keeps his thoughts to himself. Yet. “So, you’re from another world. But that doesn’t explain why you killed all those people.” He considers adding the words you’ve made things very difficult for us, but leaves them out for now.

Afzat spouts out another staccato sentence, then another. The talk-box waits until he’s completely finished speaking before translating his words, as if the device knew this would be a long one.

“When these people plundered our world, their crude effort at tunneling caused a destabilizing effect that has ravaged the local environment. We tried to collapse the tunnel with a wormhole annihilator, but the risk to our world was too great. The land is totally unfit for habitation, by either your people or mine.” He doesn’t express any regret over killing ten thousand Chinese citizens, but if Chen was in Afzat’s silver slippers that wouldn’t be the first thought on his mind either.

“So why come to the United States?” Chen asks. “We didn’t tunnel into your world.”

Afzat’s strange face takes on a somber cast as he launches into another staccato speech. “We have watched your nation, and despite vast business dealings with the Chinese, you are not their allies. With your cooperation, we wish to end the threat of our common enemy for good. It will, of course, require many of our people to come here, to use this continent to stage our forces.”

Oh, hell no, Chen thinks.

Afzat continues, and so does his translator. “This translocation is required to maintain our global security. You understand that concept, I trust? We would, of course, provide you with certain knowledge, in exchange for your generosity.”

Chen exchanges a glance with Fikowski. He can almost tell what she’s thinking: This technology isn’t the end of it. This could be the key to putting the United States back on top.

“We’ll see what we can do, Diplomat,” Fikowski says. “While we wait, why don’t we go over some of the technology you brought with you? After all, as you’ve pointed out many times, it’s far in advance of our own.”


Later that night, after the interrogation, Fikowski invites Chen into her office for a discussion.

“An entire new technology, all our own! This is going to be bigger than the A-bomb.” Fikowski beams behind her drink, clearly dreaming of endless possibilities.

Chen takes a sip from the glass of bourbon Fikowski had poured for him. “Doesn’t that strike you as a bit too convenient?”

“Wouldn’t it be nice to get lucky for a change? For our entire lives, Chen, we’ve been living in the decline of a once-great empire. America saw an opportunity after World War Two and took it. Could have kept it, too, but we squandered our lead. This time it will be different.”

“If they’re so advanced, how was China able to plunder their world and why do Afzat and his people need our help?” Chen wasn’t letting go of this so easily.

Fikowski pulls a face. “You’re a smart guy, Paul, but you have to stop being so paranoid. They need a place to stage their war with China, and we need their tech and the resources China tapped into. Afzat’s people may have the weapons, but we have the numbers and the hometown advantage. I’d say that makes us even.”

“If you say so. And anyway, it’s pointless to continue deliberations. Congress is not going to allow immigrants of any kind into the United States, Fik. It’s against the law now.” Chen swirls his own liquor in the cut-glass tumbler. “Not even for access to tunnel technology.”

“We need to figure out how to present this to the President,” Fikowski says. “Exceptions can always be made. This may be our last chance, Chen. Caution is what screwed us in the first place.”

Chen narrows his eyes. “So we do . . . what? Announce we’re partners with a shark-man who promises America a way out of our decades-long depression? All that’s gonna do is piss China off even more and spark a war we might not win.” After officially acknowledging that the Chinese had indeed opened a wormhole into another world, the head of China’s military, stodgy old General Yang Haoyu, had called on the international community for assistance in tracking down the “terrorists” and their accomplices.

At the moment, Afzat has no accomplices. But depending on the advice that Chen and Fikowski give to the incoming brass, that can change quickly.

“Think bigger. Maybe we can find a way to colonize their world safely, despite what Afzat said. Manifest Destiny, right?”

Chen runs a hand through his hair. “This is all so sudden,” he says, “and it smells rotten to me. Did you read General Yang’s statement? He said they didn’t know the world was inhabited because there was no material evidence of human life. And now there’s a creature with magic tech who just wants to help us? I’m not buying it.”

“You will assist me with this mission or else, Captain. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“That’s what they said at Troy, Colonel.”

“Dismissed,” says Fikowski, icily, a vague smirk on her lips. Chen nods and leaves his superior officer to her bombast and bourbon.


The next morning, Chen and Fik, a DOD scientist, an MP, and Afzat take a shuttle to the post’s outskirts. Can’t let too many people know this tech exists, Chen thinks. At least, not yet.

Fikowski had plowed ahead and asked for this demonstration of the tunnel tech. And of course, the diplomat was more than pleased to provide it.

“You know a lot about us, Diplomat Kamnen,” Chen says, picking up a thread he hadn’t quite been satisfied at dropping yesterday. “How is that possible?”

“We have watched you through our tunnels for many years,” Afzat says.

A shiver traces its way down Chen’s spine. How long have Afzat’s people been aware of this world and, if he were to give the Chinese the benefit of the doubt, why hadn’t they observed Afzat’s people? He can’t imagine they remained completely passive. Had the visitors played a part in the Disinformation Wars of 2033, or the silicon riots? “The Chinese only started tapping your resources five years ago. You should have made contact before then. Maybe we could have helped you.”

“We saw what you do to each other. We wanted no part of it. But the destabilization of our world makes our alliance a necessity.” His tone through the talk-box is matter-of-fact.

After half an hour, the shuttle stops in a desolate location. Afzat walks the team far from the vehicle. Chen feels the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

The diplomat speaks into his talk-box. “In my world, these coordinates are at the center of a major settlement. You will be able to see past the barrier, and some of my people may be able to see you.”

“Now, hold on,” Chen says. “You didn’t tell us that—”

Afzat barrels ahead as if he’s trying to forestall Chen’s words. “The fact that I am here is common knowledge among them. It is possible that some of them may ask to come through this tunnel. Will you permit this, my friends?” The artificial voice sounds almost plaintive.

He’s taking advantage of us, Chen thinks with growing anger. But before he can answer, Fikowski leans in close to him so Afzat’s translator can’t pick up her words.

“Let him bring someone else in,” she whispers. “We’ll see if their stories match.”

Chen sighs. Maybe it would be useful to interview more than one solitary individual. “You can bring in one more person, Diplomat Kamnen. No more.”

Afzat makes that weird little not-a-smile with his sharp teeth and presses buttons on his box in a certain sequence. There’s no noise, but the light show is like a thousand rockets being set off at once. Chen and the others are blinded, unable to tell what’s happening, and he feels sicker than he’s ever been before. It’s terrible, and when it’s all over, three strangers dressed in garb similar to Afzat’s are standing in the field. Their teeth gleam in the sunlight, dozens of mini-razors. The other three are bigger and bulkier, as if they have extra muscles under their skin. Their eyes are more reptilian than human. They look hungry.

Chen finds it hard to keep from puking, and when he looks at Fikowski he sees she’s lost whatever breakfast she’d had that morning. “Did anyone look through the tunnel? Was anyone recording?” He glares at Afzat. “And why are there three of them when we said one?”

The scientist checks the video recorder on her tablet. “There’s just a bright flash. You can’t see anything.” She pulls out a keyboard and begins tapping, her lower lip bitten between her teeth.

Chen stalks over to Afzat, who’s chatting away with his compatriots. From the easy tone of their conversation, Chen gets the feeling these three visitors weren’t chosen at random. “Damn it, you opened this tunnel knowing we wouldn’t be able to see anything. Secure them now,” Chen orders the MP, his voice shriller than he’d like. Fikowski doesn’t react because she’s still doubled over, vomit soiling her fatigues.

Afzat listens to Chen’s words through the translator with a sour expression. “As far as I am concerned, the test went perfectly fine. Perhaps your mind is too closed to the opportunity our friendship offers, Captain Chen.”

“I’ll call for backup,” the MP says. He appears cowed by the newcomers.

“You do that,” Fikowski says to the MP as she holds her phone out to Chen, preventing him from interrogating Afzat. “We need to go back to base now, Chen. General Martinez is here, and he says there’s been another incident in Shaanxi.”


As soon as Chen and Fikowski arrive back on post, they’re whisked into a secure briefing room by General Martinez, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. He’s alone. They’re really keeping things small, Chen notes.

Fikowski steps forward first. “We heard about the second explosion. Could you provide us with more detail, sir?”

“As far as we can tell,” he says, “the Chinese attempted to open another resource extraction portal—”

“The people from the other side call them tunnels,” Chen says. “At least, that’s what it translates to in English.”

“The . . . tunnel exploded. It’s worse this time. Approximate Chinese losses number fifty-six thousand. China’s going to find out about our little friend, if they don’t already know. We need answers. You’ve been interrogating the visitor, so tell us: Is he a threat to American national security or an asset?”

This explosion occurred around the same time the new visitors came through Afzat’s tunnel, Chen thinks, checking the fact sheet Martinez had handed him. That can’t be a coincidence.

Fikowski clears her throat. “There’s a situation on our end, too. The diplomat brought three others through a tunnel.”

That’s one way to dodge the question, Chen thinks.

Martinez scowls. “How did that happen?”

Fikowski feigns nonchalance. At least, Chen is pretty sure it’s a feint. “They’re in custody, being processed. I feel that all these people, and especially the original diplomat who made contact with us yesterday morning, can be persuaded to give us a clearer picture of what just happened. I’ll force them myself, if I have to.”

Chen studies Fikowski. She’d always been more proactive than him, a fireball of ambition in a military that’s still a bit of a man’s world.

“I don’t think any radical steps will be necessary,” Chen says, his words rushed. “The diplomat has been very forthcoming.”

“But can we trust them? That’s the issue here, Colonel. Find out. Fast,” Martinez says.

Well, Fik? What brash thing are you going to say this time? But she doesn’t say a word, and Chen finally mutters, “We’ll do our best.”


While Chen and Fikowski were at the meeting with Martinez, Afzat, and the newcomers had been driven back to post and confined to separate rooms, each sporting heavy restraints. Afzat’s talk-box had been taken away, and Chen borrows it from the officer on duty as the two of them enter Afzat’s cell.

Chen starts, beating Fikowski to the punch. “The Chinese attempted to open another tunnel, and it exploded on them. This body count is headed for six figures fast. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Afzat blows air through his thin lips, a gesture that Chen has come to think of as a chuckle. “It sounds as if our common enemy has made an unfortunate error.”

Fikowski leans forward, fury on her face. “‘Error’ my ass, Diplomat Kamnen. I wonder what your friends in the other cells have to say about all this. Maybe we should ask them, hmm?”

“An unfortunate error,” Afzat repeats.

She jabs a finger at him. “I think you tried to attack China again, out of revenge.”

Chen agrees with her. How long will it be before the United States becomes the target of China’s retaliation? He and Fikowski need to tread lightly here. Chen isn’t sure she’s capable of it.

Another enigmatic look from Afzat.

“You killed them,” Chen says, “just admit it.”

“There would have been no issue if the Chinese—our common enemy—had not tried to reopen the barrier between our worlds with their crude efforts.” Afzat holds himself straighter despite his restraints. “We put up a line of defense in that part of our world. This latest attack just makes our home even less stable. Now we must have a way to fight back on this side of the barrier or we’ll lose that world forever.”

Booby-trapping a piece of land like that, without any warning to the Chinese, is an act of war. Chen and his country are being backed into a corner here. He changes the subject. “Those three others you brought over, who are they?”

“Some of my countrymen.”

“We’ll be talking to them,” Chen says.

“I hope you do,” Afzat replies. “They’re all rather fascinating people.” Chen tries not to read tone into the translation device, but he gets the feeling that Afzat is toying with them. Maybe that’s been the case all along.

They continue on like this for some time, with Afzat speaking vaguely and Fikowski making excuses for the diplomat. So much for her bold statement to General Martinez.

They’re friends now, he thinks, and tries to hide a frown from the other two “people” in the room.


The other visitors, who’d each arrived with nothing but poor clothing choices and bulging biceps, corroborated Afzat’s story about booby-trapping the barrier between their world and Shaanxi. Talking to them, Chen’s nearly certain they’re all government officials, but none will disclose their rank or position.

“They were just protecting their world,” Fikowski says after finishing the last interview. “Don’t you believe in national sovereignty, Chen?”

“But setting a trap . . . it’s wrong,” he says.

“It’s what they had to do,” she says, “and it sounds like this trap hurt them almost as much as the Chinese.”

“Afzat said it hurt their land. He didn’t say it had killed anyone.”

Fikowski gestures back at the cells which hold the beefy visitors. “They seem hardier than us. Besides, land’s important too.”

Chen decides to leave it alone. She isn’t wrong.

After the four fruitless interrogations, Chen heads back into his office and puts on some light jazz. Just as he’s about to doze off, he hears the secure line ring. He picks it up.

“This is General Yang Haoyu,” the voice says in barely accented English. “You know why I’m calling.”

Chen is shocked to hear the Chinese general’s voice. “How did you get this number?”

Yang doesn’t answer. “Sixty-six thousand, two hundred and eight people,” the Chinese general says. “That is how many people your allies from another world have murdered in two days.”

“What allies?” Chen asks.

“Don’t play dumb with me. We know you have some of these terrorists in custody, out there in the California desert.”

Don’t engage too far with him, Chen tells himself. “Your intelligence hasn’t been too good lately, General Yang. Neither has your military.”

“We have told you many times that world is uninhabited. Or so we believed. We were wrong.”

It wouldn’t matter if you knew or not, Chen thinks, you still would have taken their resources. And so would we, if we’d developed the technology first.

“Let’s stop lying to each other for a second and try to prevent a goddamn war. These hypothetical visitors—if we were to host them, which I am neither confirming nor denying—are fixated on what your country did to them. China is in trouble, General Yang.”

“America will be too, in time.”

No, because we’re going to ally with them, Chen thinks, because power and politics gives us no choice. What, are we going to partner with China instead? “We can’t offer you any assistance. And we’re not giving you access to any visitors we may or may not have. That’s off the table.”

General Yang sneers. “You’d rather join forces with these creatures than with your own kind?”

“They aren’t creatures,” Chen says, dropping all pretenses. “They’re human beings, just like us. They look a little different, sure, but they have feelings, emotions, needs. And your tunnels have ruined their land, the eastern half of it anyway. It’s far worse than anything America’s done, and we’ve done plenty.”

“So you just believed him?” General Yang laughs. “You really believe that just going into his world caused all that destruction and made it unlivable? Did he even show you any proof?”

Chen thinks back to the diplomat’s line from earlier: The land is totally unfit for habitation. “I have no reason to doubt him and a hundred reasons to doubt you, General Yang. I’m just grateful they don’t want to destroy everyone who lives on this planet.”

Another chuckle. “Not yet. Good luck with your new allies, Captain. You’re going to need it.” The line goes dead.


Chen barely makes it back to his apartment on post that night. At 0700 the next day, a private transport arrives to take him to a sensitive compartmented information facility, and Chen settles in, his head pounding.

Fikowski is already there on the other side of the passenger seat. “General Martinez and I met with Afzat alone last night after you left. I think he likes me. We’ve decided to ally with Afzat’s people. They’re in a crisis right now, and they need help. He’s on his way back to Washington now to present our findings to the President.”

I guess I’m the only one who’s wary of trusting people we just met from beyond the psychic barrier, Chen thinks. It’s then that he notices the transport isn’t heading to post but to some point outside of it. “Where are we going?”

“Afzat asked us to meet him at the place where we brought the others through.”

“Did Martinez say we should listen to Afzat?” Even if he’s now an official ally of the United States, this is a lot of leeway to give the visitor.

“Chen, this decision is way above both our pay grades,” she says. “More listening, less talking. Follow orders.”

Chen shuts his mouth.

They pull up to the deserted field a little while later. Afzat is there, a green parka awkwardly layered over his official diplomat’s uniform.

“My friends, welcome to this historic day,” Afzat says in not-too-bad English, without his device. Chen guesses he’d been practicing.

Chen looks around. It’s the same group as last time, but with more MPs and a few extra scientists. The need for secrecy is almost moot anyway, he guesses. Camera equipment is set up everywhere. Chen wonders if they’ll catch anything this time. He guesses they won’t.

“I hear we have decided to ally with you,” Chen says.

“And a good thing too, my friend. A very good thing.”

Everyone here is so damn sure this is the right path. Well, I’d already decided to ally with them myself last night, Chen thinks. Didn’t I?

“Why are we here, Afzat?”

Suddenly, everyone’s secure lines and electronic alerts all go off at once. Chen fumbles for his own clunky military phone.

China Goes Dark after Wave of Explosions, reads the first headline he sees. The second reads Freak Event Leads to China Devastation. He scans through page after page of results with mounting horror. Countless Dead in China’s Largest Cities. Then he drops his phone. “You did this,” he says. It’s not a question, and he doesn’t need to clarify what he’s talking about.

“A most ingenious solution, is it not? Colonel Fikowski seemed to think so. We worked out the details last night, while you were committing treason.” Afzat’s demeanor can be accurately described as chipper.

“You used your tunnels to kill millions?” Chen can barely stand. “At once?”

“We’d hoped for more, but don’t worry. We’ll eliminate the rest on the next wave, if they don’t immediately capitulate,” the diplomat says with a wide, goofy grin.

“You killed them,” Chen repeats, in shock.

“Absolutely. Kill or be killed. Your country has a long history of it, from what I understand.” He blows air through his lips on the last sentence.

I should have shot you on sight, Chen thinks. Afzat’s people are monsters. Or at least Afzat is. “You destroyed a country with no thought of the cost, not even a hint of remorse.”

“Did the Chinese think of the cost when they attempted to tunnel into our world, when they stole our resources? No, they did not. We’re being fairer with you Americans, partially because we like you, but also because we really need this hemisphere to remain unsullied, and well, you come along with the package. But a fair and equitable package it will be, you won’t even notice our peacekeeping forces. A bargain well struck, don’t you think?”

Chen can’t help himself; he lunges at Afzat. Fikowski intercedes, but he manages to land a blow on the diplomat’s temple first, which the man seems unfazed by. How strong are they? Could he have overpowered them at any time? It hardly seems to matter now, anyway. “You murderers! Why did you even ask for our help if you’re so goddamned powerful?”

Afzat straightens his parka. “I never asked for help, not once. I asked for cooperation, and your general granted it. You’re a military man, Captain. Surely you understand the concept of ensuring the battle never touches your own shores?” He holds up his black box. “The only issue left is Congress. Your general said they might not agree to our permanent occupation. But I think we can be very persuasive. It would be a shame for you if our alliance has to end, and we were forced to write this world off entirely.”

It’s a veiled threat. Fikowski releases her grip on Chen and freezes. Too late now, Fik, thinks Chen. He looks back at Fikowski. Is she chastened? Does she even realize what she’s done? Then again, was there ever any way to stop this?

His oddness was only ever a put-on, Chen thinks. In the end, they’re exactly like us.

Chen straightens up. “Kill me too, then. I don’t want to be part of any world that contains the likes of you. Or any of you, for that matter,” he says, glaring at Fikowski and the others.

Afzat beams. “I think we’ll keep you around, Captain Chen. You two are our oldest friends here, on this side of the tunnel.” He winks, and Chen has to repress the urge to punch him again.

Instead, he forces a laugh. “Joke’s on you, Afzat,” Chen says. “The Chinese drilled into your world in the first place because we’re running out of everything. Our environment is trashed. Both our hemispheres are worthless.”

The diplomat shrugs. “Then we will go elsewhere. This isn’t the first world we’ve invaded. It’s merely the most recent one to annoy us.” He puts his talk-box into the pocket of the parka. Apparently he doesn’t need it anymore, and maybe never did.

“You won’t get away with this,” Chen yells stupidly. Afzat ignores him.

“Now, I think it’s time to meet with your President. How does that saying go, take me to your leader?” Afzat blows more air through his lips and links arms with Fikowski. She seems disgusted, but doesn’t slap the diplomat away. “And since we’ll be meeting your leader, it’s only fair you should make contact with some of ours.”

All at once, there’s a sickening tear in the air. Chen trembles as tunnels open all around him, and a few of the rank and file scream. Then the ground begins to shake as dozens, maybe hundreds, of Afzat’s people stream through them, many of them carrying the same flat black box as the diplomat. They chatter to one another in their otherworldly language, scarcely noticing the officers or other military personnel. One of them jostles Chen to the desert floor by accident, and Chen can’t even bring himself to get up.


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