by Dean M. Cole
Standing, Angela walked up to the robot. “Turn around and take a knee, BOb.”
The bot complied.
Standing on her tiptoes, she tugged at the top of BOb’s backpack and then released a frustrated growl. “Crap! You're still too tall. Bend over.”
Vaughn had noticed earlier that they had indeed filled the robot’s backpack. The thing was bulging as well as Angela’s.
They walked over to see what she was doing.
The robot lowered its other knee and then, leaning forward, came to rest on all fours. BOb looked over his shoulder and eyed them warily, giving the group the fisheye. “Can I at least get a kiss first?”
Angela rolled her eyes as she unzipped the large backpack. She peeled back the top and then stood back and pointed. “That boulder also marked the location of these.”
Seeing the look on Vaughn’s face, she held up a hand. “They’re safe. BOb has both a neutron detector and a gamma-ray detector. He says there’s nothing coming from them.”
“Nothing above what one would expect, Commander Brown,” the robot corrected, still on all fours. “The nuclear warheads are emitting normal levels of radiation for their type. I do not detect any leakage.”
Standing upright, several of the members started to back away. However, Monique held her ground. She looked at Angela. “I take it this is a pair of the nuclear warheads that the Necks beamed out before they could hit Geneva?”
“Yes.” Angela pointed at the robot. “He identified these two as having come from a naval missile. Trident, I believe. Previously, you’d mentioned that you started off in the Navy as a Nuclear Surface Warfare Officer, so I had him load up these two.”
Lieutenant Gheist peered down at the devices and then nodded appreciably. “BOb is correct. These are MIRV warheads.” Seeing their confused looks, she added, “It is an acronym that stands for multiple independently targetable reentry vehicle. Each Trident can carry twelve MIRVs, although treaties limit them to four or five.” Still seeing concerned looks, she held up a hand. “They are safe enough if there are no leaks.”
BOb gave them the fisheye again. “If leakage concerns you, I highly recommend you avoid diet pills, as some have been shown to cause anal leakage.”
Angela cast an arched brow at Monique.
The naval lieutenant shrugged. “That is not my fault. I did not program BOb’s responses.” She placed a hand on the tip of one of the devices. “Anal leakage notwithstanding, I think the missiles are safe enough. I will have to make sure they’re disarmed. From what you have told us, I imagine they were configured for ground penetration. So it should require a large impact followed by a certain amount of time, albeit very short, before the nuclear device would activate.”
Bill, who had been looking a little green under the gills, scoffed. “Activate? Is that a euphemism for blow the hell up?”
Monique nodded. “Yes, William, it is.”
After holding up a hand, Angela gestured at the robot. “Turns out BOb has the appropriate protocols and,” she paused and gave the group an inscrutable glance, then added, “One-Eighty-Eight hardware. He was able to ascertain that the missiles had reverted to safe mode before shutting down.”
For a moment, Vaughn wondered how the missiles could still have power after so many months, but then he remembered that, in this timeline, little more than a week had passed since the President had dispatched these warheads on their awful mission.
Bingham had initially held back from the discussion. However, he’d started creeping closer at the mention of nuclear devices. Now the man looked like a Doberman eyeing a prime rib, ears rotated to front.
Vaughn extended a hand toward the man in a hold-on gesture. “No, Chance, were still not going to nuke them.” Then he looked at the rest of the group. “Not unless we have to. If we don’t succeed this time, we can at least deny the bastards our world.”
Chapter 40
“Here you go, Doctor Geller,” Monique said, handing the young man the now disconnected tablet. “That will do.”
The naval lieutenant had connected the device to the nuclear warheads using the same One-Eighty-Eight-compliant interface as they had with the light wave emitter.
Vaughn understood why the nukes had the US MIL-Standard interface but was still at a loss as to why the Necks had incorporated the tech into the Taters. None of the theories advanced by the other team members fit. Monique’s theory about it having come from the crashed quick-reaction force aircraft didn’t hold water. The thing hadn’t been anywhere close to this area when it crossed the light wave, and as far as Vaughn knew, the Necks had not yet gone that far afield. He doubted they would’ve already come across the wreckage in this timeline.
He also didn’t think the hardware had come from anything in the Geneva area. Angela had been adamant that they weren’t using the mil-standard interface in CERN.
Monique stepped back from the boulder she was using as a makeshift workbench. Holding out her hands, she gave them a meaningful look. “The nuclear devices are now armed … again. However, they are no longer on impact-initiated timers.”
Bingham’s face soured. “What kind of ops-sec are you Yanks running? How on earth could you arm a nuke that easily in the field?”
“I assure you, our nuclear operations security is the best in the world.” Nodding, Monique pointed to the devices. “If these had not been previously armed, I would not have been able to bypass their built-in security measures, even with my access codes. They would have self-destructed.”
Vaughn did a double-take. “Now is a fine time to tell us that.”
Monique merely shrugged.
Teddy adjusted his hat as he craned his neck for a better look. “How do you arm nuclear device now?”
She pointed at the small keypad that she had exposed along the back of one of the warheads. “Type in the desired number of minutes and then press the enter key three times. Then you must repeat the process. That will prevent accidental detonation.”
Bill Peterson bent over to inspect her work and then gave Monique a sideward glance. “So you’re saying that we need to enter the number of minutes a second time and then press the enter key three times … again?”
“Yes, William.”
Teddy chuckled. “Da, no butt-dialing the nuclear device.”
Mark looked at Vaughn and then back at Monique. “What happens if we punch in zero minutes?”
Lieutenant Gheist stared back at him somberly. “The device detonates the third time you press the Enter key.”
“Instantly?”
Monique nodded. “If it is the second time around, yes. Instantly.”
The group stared at the nuke for a long moment.
A distant wail descended from the dark desert air. It was a lonely, sad thing, full of agony and despair.
Staring at the device, Vaughn asked, “What’s the yield on this thing? Is it an H-bomb?”
Monique chuckled. “No, this is not a thermonuclear device. There is no way they could have carried anything that powerful, even with BOb’s strength. This is one of the new submarine-deployed tactical nukes, a W76-2 warhead. Its yield is only six kilotons, about half of what we dropped on Hiroshima. I am not even sure it would have done much damage to the collider.” Frowning, she looked down at the nuke. “I suppose it is just further evidence that the President was throwing everything he had at the problem.”
Vaughn nodded and then looked at the robot. The machine was still vigilantly scanning the horizon around their perimeter. “BOb, can you beam all of us out at one time, including yourself?”
“Negative, Captain Asshole.”
Vaughn felt his face flush as someone guffawed behind him. Then a loud snort issued. He looked back to see Angela covering her mouth. Several of the others were also laughing.
Pointing at the robot, he looked at Rachel. “Thanks for this.”
Major Lee lifted one shoulder. “I told you, you shouldn’t have said that within my earshot.”
Vau
ghn pursed his lips and turned back to the robot. “BOb, address me as Captain Singleton from now on.” Remembering Monique’s suggestion that the robot seemed to react positively to politeness, he added, “Please.”
The bot’s head dipped. “Roger, Captain Asshole.”
“That’s not …!” He shook his head in surrender. “Shit!”
Pursing his lips, Vaughn turned his ire on Monique. “Really? You and your friends at DARPA couldn’t do any better than this?”
The woman made a face. Holding out her hands, she shrugged. “Beta software.”
Vaughn blew air through his nose and turned back to the robot. “Can you beam five out at once and then the other four plus yourself?”
“Yes, Captain Singleton.”
“Thank you. Now, was that so difficult?”
“Not at all, Captain Asshole.”
Vaughn closed his eyes for a moment and then turned back to the team members. Several of them were dabbing tears. “We’re going to break back into our two groups. We’ll use the same teams as we did back in the city.” He pointed at Rachel. “Major Pain, I mean, Lee, I’d like you to take Wing Commander Bingham, Lieutenant Gheist, Lieutenant Colonel Hennessy, and Doctor Geller with you.” He gestured at the others, pointing as he called out their names. “I’ll take Angela, Bill, and Teddy and, God help me, BOb.”
Smiles dissolved as they exchanged nervous glances, but after a few moments, everyone looked back at him and nodded.
They had already reloaded all of the weapons. Mark and the robot had retrieved the munitions Angela had left in the nuke field. It had been more than enough to rearm and resupply everyone.
“Where are we going?” Major Lee asked.
“I’ve been giving that some thought.” Vaughn paused and looked at Rourke. “Can I borrow your tablet?”
The young man gave him a quick nod and handed over the device.
Vaughn opened the map app and zoomed in on a portion of the city. “When we were checking out the airport, I noticed that its west half was empty. I didn’t see any buildings or robots there. That’s a couple of miles of wide-open territory that’s not too far from ATLAS.” He slid his finger to a point in the middle of the open space. “We’ll designate this as our target. The emitter’s margin of error falls within the clear area. Even if we’re off by a mile, we’ll still be far enough away from the buildings and the bots.”
Bingham held up both hands. “Wait, wait, wait! Why not just beam ourselves to the far side of Mont Salève? We can regroup, rearm, and come at this another day.”
Rachel shook her head. “We’ve already depleted their forces significantly. If we fall back now, we’ll never have a better chance.”
“Exactly,” Vaughn said. “And now they know that some humans survived.” He held up a hand. “I know they think they beamed us out, but to them, we’re nothing but cockroaches, and when you see one cockroach you know there’s a hundred more in the walls.”
Angela leaned in, raising her eyebrows. “And don’t forget, they know what we tried to do to the collider. We have to act now, before they can formulate a defense against that kind of attack.”
Bingham stared back at them for a moment. Finally, he dipped his head.
“What if the teams are too far apart?” Mark asked. “What’s the plan if we can’t find each other?”
Vaughn nodded slowly. He’d been working through the problem since they’d discovered the emitter’s margin for error. “We’ll have to proceed separately. It’ll double our chances of success.”
Bill Peterson’s eyebrows peaked. “I thought you said it would double our chances of detection, too.”
Rachel waved her hand dismissively. “There’s nothing we can do about that now. It’s not like we’re going to hang around here instead.” She looked at Vaughn. “What is our plan of attack?”
“It’s still night. We’ll beam out in a prone position. The field will have drainage easements. Work your way into the nearest one and then follow it as best you can to the airport perimeter. That’ll limit our exposure and mask our thermal profile.”
Rachel stared at the map for a long moment. Finally, she patted her rifle. “If they see us, we just start shooting. It’ll become a running battle, but that’s okay. We’ve proven we can take ‘em out.” She pulled her gaze from the tablet and looked at Vaughn. “How are we getting into ATLAS? The Necks closed off all of our ingress points.”
“Not all of them. Angela and I discussed that a minute ago.” He pointed to her. “Tell them your idea.”
She nodded. “I think we might still be able to find one of the emergency exit shafts.”
“Really?” Mark said. “I thought you didn’t know where they were.”
“I don’t, not exactly, anyway.” She pointed her chin at the tablet. “Can I see that for a moment?”
Vaughn handed it to her.
Angela zoomed in on the area between ATLAS and the airfield. She activated the drawing tool and then circled two points. “This is the ATLAS experiment on the west end and the LHCb or Beauty to the east.” Then she dragged her finger from ATLAS toward the airfield, leaving a green arc on the screen. “The tunnel should follow this line between them. There will be a small fireproof building at the top of each emergency exit shaft, so they should still be standing if the Necks haven’t bulldozed them.”
Mark studied the line she’d drawn. “How big are they?”
She rocked her head equivocally. “They’re small, cinder block buildings. About the size of a two-car garage, maybe?”
“Lovely,” Bingham said acidly. “So the plan is to wander through a dark city filled with killer robots that may or may not be able to see us, all while looking for a building we’ve never seen. And then, if that hare-brained plan succeeds, we’ll descend into a tunnel that has already proven full of enemy combatants.”
Vaughn nodded. “Pretty much sums it up.”
“Lovely!” Bingham repeated.
Vaughn looked at the robot. “BOb, from now on, please refer to Wing Commander Bingham as Commander Jackass.”
The robot looked at him and nodded. “Roger, Captain Asshole.”
Rachel gave the man a hard look. “You’re welcome to stay here, Chauncey-Baby.”
Unfortunately, Chance declined.
Addressing the rest of the group, Vaughn said, “So that’s the plan.” He regarded Bingham askance. “Unless anyone has a better idea.”
Commander Jackass glared back at him but, for once, kept his trap shut.
Vaughn pointed at the map. “BOb, add that curved line to your navigation system.”
After a slight pause, the battle operations bot nodded. “Complete.”
Looking at Angela, Vaughn held out his hand. “Are you done with that?”
She nodded and handed it to him. Vaughn relayed it to Rourke. “Take this with you. Team Two will rely on Angela’s mental map and the one inside BOb.”
After a moment, Vaughn gave a short nod. “Let’s divide into our groups and get ready to beam the hell out of … Hell.”
Chapter 41
“Sure that’s not too much for you?”
Breathing heavily, Mark slid his thumbs under the backpack’s shoulder straps and shifted them. With its nuclear cargo, the bag was now quite heavy. “I can handle it.”
Vaughn patted him on the shoulder. “Knew you could, Chewie.” He paused for breath as the lack of oxygen wrought its effect on him as well. Then the smile faded from his face. “Be careful, friend. Take care of these guys.”
“Hey, that’s on Major Lee. You put her in charge.” Seeing Vaughn’s reaction, Mark held up his hands. “Just screwing with you, buddy.” He drew a deep breath. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit nervous, but it will be good to get some oxygen in these lungs.” He wrinkled his nose. “And some fresh-ish air, too.”
“Hear! Hear!” Bingham said and then coughed. “What do you say we get a move on?”
Vaughn gave the man a nod. It was good to see Chan
ce getting on board with the idea. Turning from the wing commander, he stepped over to Rachel. “You ready?”
“Yeah,” she gestured at Angela, “but I’d almost feel better if one of you was with us. You’re the ones with all the experience here.”
“Not really. You may not have been there for the whole battle, but you and your team already have more combat experience against the enemy than Angela and I ever had during our travels.”
She cocked a skeptical eyebrow and then turned to address her team. “If everyone is ready, let’s get in position.”
Having donned their combat gear and placed their night-vision goggles atop their heads, the five of them lay down next to one another.
To make sure they all fit within the fan of light, they positioned Rachel, the shortest of the team, closest to the robot. The two tallest members, Monique and Mark, occupied the other end. Rourke and Bingham lay prone in the middle.
Vaughn thought it probably didn’t matter, but he wouldn’t want anyone’s appendages or extremities left here in the desert … Unless it was Bingham, of course. That would be just fine with him.
BOb stepped into position and looked at Vaughn.
After receiving a nod from Rachel, he turned back to the robot. “Give them a three count and then beam them out.”
Raising the gun into firing position, BOb aimed over their heads and began to count down in a voice that sounded like Captain Picard. “Three. Two. One … Engage.” The white light shot in a wide fan over their heads. However, instead of continuing toward the horizon, it simply terminated like a flattened lightsaber blade, its far end only reaching a couple of feet past Mark.
To minimize the degradation of their night vision, the team was facing away from the light. Vaughn narrowed his eyes in a belated effort to preserve his own.
The members of Team One twitched in unison as the light shot over their heads. However, before the movement could complete, the beam had swept over them and then vanished, leaving nothing but a ten-foot-wide crater where the light had scooped out a section of the dusty desert floor as well.
