THE END - Book I - Of THE EVENT SERIES

by Marshall Huffman

  “Go on.”

  “As I told you, we have a group of scientists and their equipment here that came from Groom Lake. We also were able to get seven more from Los Alamos. These people are some of the best minds in the country, even before the event. They have already got our computers working and a LAN system set up so we can interface with each other. Interface...I love that word. Inter-face, enter, face. Come-on-in-face. Sorry, where was I?” the Colonel asked.

  “Losing your mind?” Rachel offered.

  “Right. Anyway, the plan is to try to determine if any of the satellites are still functional and if we can make contact with them. If we could do that, we would be able to make some pretty big leaps. They seem to think it is possible.”

  Randy rubbed his chin and frowned, “I guess I don’t understand. I don’t know a thing about that kind of stuff. Hell, I can barely use Microsoft Office.”

  “You don’t need to know anything about it. In fact, that’s the advantage. We will need to have someone act as a liaison between my computer people and those prima donnas. It will take someone to keep them on track and to keep the infighting to a minimum. If I don’t have someone acting on my behalf and in control of the project we will never get anything accomplished. Egos will get in the way of progress. I’ve seen you operate and I think you are the right person for the job. I certainly don’t think someone in a military capacity should be the point man on this.”

  “I don’t know. I mean, they could pull the wool over my eyes anytime they wanted to and I wouldn’t know it.”

  “You know people and that’s all they are. Given, they are smarter than most of us, but in the end, they are still just people and you can handle that.”

  “Wow. I just don’t know. It sounds like a pretty vital project. I mean, this could have a dramatic effect on our future. If I screw this up because I don’t know what’s important or which should be the right priority, I could do some real damage,” Randy said.

  “Look, do you think I know the right thing to do in every situation? Hell no. I get my best people together, listen to what they have to say and then do what my gut tells me. It’s all I can do sometimes. No one knows all the answers. You just gather as much information in the time you have and try to go with what feels right. The key is to never let them see you sweat. If you panic, they all panic. Leadership, that’s what it is all about. You have all the skills, just don’t be afraid to use them,” Webber said.

  “And you honestly think I am the best person for this job?”

  “Without reservation,” the Colonel said.

  “Then what the hell. I’ll give it my best shot.”

  “That’s all anyone can do really.”

  “He’s right,” Rachel added.

  They continued to watch as a couple more cars rolled in.

  ****

  The first few days seemed to go well with only a few minor glitches. All of the scientists seemed to understand the importance of the project. The essential elements were fairly straight forward. Find a method of communicating with any satellites they could locate and then connect them into the communication system back at Cheyenne Mountain. If they could do that, they could start to set up a worldwide communication system and try to locate others that may have survived. They could also use them to broadcast directions to where they were located. With some luck they may, in time, find out what actually caused all of this in the first place.

  ****

  Randy rubbed his eyes after talking with Dr. Sullivan, one of the most brilliant minds in the world when it came to physics and deep space exploration. He was sure that the other scientists from Groom Lake were not headed in the right direction. He had brought a white board and a slew of books he had published and proceeded to lose Randy during the first three minutes. Everything was a blur.

  Randy nodded and shook his head from time to time but he had no clue as to what the good doctor was really trying to prove. Words like dynamic queuing, spectral capacity and aliasing punctuated the doctor’s presentation.

  “Of course you understand that this would mean we would have to change the configuration to narrow the beam width,” Sullivan said, pausing for effect.

  “Right,” Randy said, having no clue as to what he should say next.

  “Then you agree this is the best possible approach?” the doctor asked.

  Randy leaned back in his chair and rested his head on the back of it, looking at the ceiling. The doctor glanced up involuntary as well.

  “So in ten words or less Dr. Sullivan, what exactly do you want to do?” Randy finally asked.

  “What? I don’t understand. I just explained all of that.”

  “Do me a favor. Put it into ten words or less.”

  “I can’t do that. Ten words? Not possible.”

  “Sorry then, I can’t say yes until you tell me exactly what you want.”

  “In ten words or less?”

  Randy just smiled.

  “I want to go to the VLA and make it work.”

  “Actually, that’s eleven words but that I understand. You’re saying that the VLA is our best chance of making contact with any existing satellites.”

  “Yes. Of course. It has to be the first step. After that, then we can work on getting it to interface with the system at Cheyenne. The other way is ass backwards,” the doctor said firmly.

  “I will need a list of who you intend to take with you and what equipment, if any, you will need. This VLA is in New Mexico. That is somewhat worrisome but we can work around that.”

  “I have the list with me. I knew you would need that information,” he said, handing over a long list of items.

  “I’ll think this over and I will make a decision by noon tomorrow at the latest.”

  “You can’t do that right now?”

  “I can but I won’t. I want to think this through and I may have a few more questions for you.”

  “Really? Okay, I suppose that would be satisfactory.”

  “It has to be doesn’t it?” Randy said getting up and walking him to the door.

  “I may have underestimated you,” the doctor said as he turned to leave.

  Randy had to smile. He went back to his desk and looked at the pile of stuff the doctor had brought with him. A sheet of paper with formulas was on top of the pile. Christ, I can’t even do calculus, what the hell am I supposed to do with this stuff?

  He was grateful for the interruption of Rachel.

  “Hey big boss, how is it going?”

  “Just great if I had a clue as to what I am doing. How the hell am I supposed to know which project is the highest priority when I don’t even know what the hell they are talking about most of the time?”

  “Is this the same guy that saves my butt about once a dive trip? Mr. Cool under fire. How many times have you gotten us out of a sticky situation? What about in the cavern? Do you think anyone else could have gotten us out of there? I don’t think so. What makes this so different? That was life and death. This isn’t the same thing at all. If you screw something up no one is suddenly going to die. It’s just wires and software trying to talk to each other. If the so called ‘experts’,” she said, using her fingers to make quotation marks, “can’t agree, then what does it really matter? Colonel Webber was right. Go with your gut. If it feels right then go with it. If it doesn’t, take another run at it until you do feel right.”

  “No, no. Don’t hold back, tell me what you really think,” Randy said, throwing up his arms.

  “Okay, that was a little over the top but you know what I mean. Colonel Webber is pretty darn sharp and he believes in you. That in itself should tell you something.”

  “You’re right. I just need to approach this like any other job,” Randy said finally.

  “Now you’re with the program,” she said glancing at the paper on top of the stack of books the doctor had left.

  She looked at Randy and back at the paper.

  “Eee-gads, you understand this stuff?” she asked ta
pping the formula.

  “Sure. It’s pretty basic, that’s the formula for the full width at half power of the VLA in arcminutes,” Randy said seriously, circling theӨрв = 45/υGHz scribbled on the paper.

  “Wow. What the hell are you worried about then?” she said, looking at him in amazement.

  Randy just shrugged.

  “You’re lying, aren’t you?” she said after watching him a few seconds.

  Randy finally laughed and said, “Just practicing. Never let them see you sweat.”

  “Dork,” she replied.

  ****

  It was two weeks later when Colonel Webber dropped by to see how Randy was surviving.

  “Actually, not too bad. I sent Dr. Sullivan and his team to the VLA in San Agustin, New Mexico. He seems to think that should be the logical starting place. When the VLA is properly set up, he will adapt the system to the configuration here at Cheyenne.”

  “And you concur?”

  “I do.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he made the most logical case and what he said made sense to some extent.”

  “As much as you could follow.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Then it was a good call,” the Colonel said, nodding to Randy.

  “I think so,” Randy said.

  “Ooooh. The old confidence is back with a vengeance. That’s a good thing,” the Colonel said laughing.

  “It had better be with these people.”

  “Did he give you any indication of how long it would take them?”

  “Not really. I got the usual ‘if this’ and ‘if that’ but no real estimate. Some of our people here aren’t too happy about my decision.”

  “So I heard. Especially Rinehart.”

  “Is that why you are here?”

  “Nope. You’re in charge. I just came by to offer any support you need. They grumble like all military people but in the end, they will do as told. That’s one thing I love about the military. The boss is always the boss no matter what.”

  “So, what else is going on? Rachel said you were still getting in new people from time to time.”

  “We seem to average eight to ten a day. We still have plenty of housing and are making good progress on I–25. A couple more days and we will have it open on both sides all the way to Denver. Of course clearing Denver isn’t going to be too easy but it will give us access to plenty of food.”

  “What we need is to be able to grow our own crops. Animals would be nice too.”

  “The crops are possible but I don’t hold out much hope for animals. Not many cows made it to the caves as far as I can tell.”

  “Yeah, they don’t get many vacations to visit the sights.”

  “Not many,” Webber replied.

  “After you clear Denver, what’s the plan?”

  “I’m not really sure. We are in a good location here. We hold the high ground in case some of the nuts in Utah decide to try to take over. We also have the weapons here that don’t have to be moved. Housing is plentiful and food is easy to get. All in all, I think we should stay until something causes us to have to move.”

  “What about the weapons in Denver? There must be tons of them,” Randy said.

  “Tons and tons. We are already moving some of the more important weapons down from Denver to Cheyenne. We have been doing that by air for the past week or so. A lot of ordinance is stored in Denver.”

  “I can imagine,” Randy said.

  “Look, you need anything. Anything at all, just give me a shout. Oh, and speaking of shout, we will have phones working in the city and Cheyenne by Friday. That will really be a big help. No more having to run all over the place to find someone,” Webber said.

  “What? No cell phones?”

  “Don’t laugh too hard. Dr. Rinehart and three of the guys from Groom are working on that very thing.”

  “No way.”

  “Way. If they can communicate with the satellites,” Webber said and waved as he left.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Pennsylvania

  Ben had just left a town meeting and was walking back to his house when he was knocked to the ground. He felt a sharp pain in his right thigh before he heard the sound of the muzzle blast. Blood gushed from his leg and he tried to press down on the gaping wound. He was sure the shot had come from behind him. He rolled over and yelled for help. Several people came running out and another man was thrown back. His eyes were open but the large hole in his chest made it obvious he was already dead. Two men grabbed Ben by the arms and dragged him behind a car. The window shattered, covering them with glass.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  “Someone up in the hills is shooting at us.”

  “At least two people,” Ben said.

  “How do you know?”

  “Two different types of rifles. The sound is different.”

  “Who the hell is it?”

  “Gee Frank, I’m not sure. Why don’t you go ask them,” he said through clenched teeth.

  Two more shots rang out and one exploded the windshield of the car next to them.

  “We need to get out of here and get you to the Doc.”

  “What we need to do is get some firepower on whoever is shooting at us. They are just probing, looking to see if we will be easy or will we fight.”

  “All right. I’ll make a run for it and get some of the men rounded up. We will give them something to think about.”

  “Just be damn careful and don’t get your ass shot off,” Ben said.

  Frank took a deep breath and made a mad dash back to the meeting hall. Two shots rang out but neither was even close. He ran inside and a few minutes later came out with twenty-three other men. All had weapons. They started shooting in all directions. No one knew for sure where the shots were coming from but that didn’t slow them down any. After a few minutes the shooting stopped.

  “I think they moved on. Let’s get you to the hospital.”

  “Get some men up in the hills and see if you can locate where they were shooting from. If they were just a scouting party they will bring others. We need to get ready,” Ben said, in obvious pain.

  “Let us take care of that, you just get patched up.”

  They took Ben to the medical center and the doctor went to work on his leg. The bullet had gone clean through his leg and missed the bone. He would lose a chunk of muscle but it could have been much worse.

  Ben was sitting up in bed when Troy Stewart and Frank Breland came in the room.

  “How you feeling?”

  “Not bad. Of course the doctor is keeping me fairly well doped up.”

  “We found where they were shooting from,” Troy said. He never was one for much small talk.

  “Could you tell how many there were?”

  “Looks like maybe five or six. We found three different types of shell casings. .223, which the doctor said was what probably hit you. A .50 cal that killed Matt Merczuk and a .30-06. In all the shooting, I think we hit one of them. We found a blood trail and followed it to a service road. They must have loaded him into a car because we lost the trail after that,” Frank told him.

  “Good. Hope the bastard dies,” Ben replied.

  “We are setting up a primitive alarm system and are posting guards on a rotation basis,” Troy said.

  “Alarm system?”

  “Tripwire that will pull on a toggle switch down here that will turn on lights in that area. Troy came up with the plan,” Frank said to Ben.

  “Damn good work Troy,” Ben said.

  “No big deal,” Troy replied.

  “Do you think they are watching us from someplace?” Ben asked.

  “I think we had better assume they are. We set the tripwires up last night under cover of darkness but if they have night vision, they may know what we were up to.”

  “I guess we can only hope they don’t.”

  “Everyone is now armed. We set up two additional medical stations and stock piled ammunitio
n in several locations,” Troy added.

  “Good thinking. Sounds like we are as prepared as we can be under the circumstances,” Ben said, rubbing his leg.

  “We have one more little surprise for them if they decide to attack,” Troy said.

  “Oh?”

  “We built several pits and are making tunnels so we can come up behind them if they do make it into town.”

  “Like a Viet Cong spider tunnel?” Ben asked.

  “Exactly. Maybe not as elaborate but the principle is the same.”

  “How in the hell did you do that?” Ben asked.

  “We’re miners,” was all Troy said.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Colorado Springs, CO.

  Colonel Webber was walking along Boulder Street, on his way to the Colorado Springs Memorial Hospital when Sargent Lotz came running up.

  “Colonel Webber, sir,” he said panting.

  “Easy boy. I know we are near the hospital but I don’t want to have to carry you the rest of the way,” Webber said.

  “Sir, we have a situation.”

  “What kind of situation?”

  “Captain Miller and Captain Jackson just got back from Herminie, Pennsylvania. Something has happened.”

  “What has happened?” Webber demanded, fearing the worse.

  “A battle of some kind took place. I don’t know the details.”

  “What the hell am I supposed to do, walk to the airfield?” Webber said.

  “No sir. A car is on the way. I took a short cut to get here.”

  “Alright. Good work. I don’t...” but before he could finish a Buick came racing up the street.

  It skidded to a halt and a corporal jumped out and opened the back door.

  “Which airfield?” he asked, climbing in.

  “Academy,” the corporal said and raced off.

  The two pilots were waiting beside the aircraft. Two ambulances were loading people into them as they drove up. Colonel Webber jumped out without waiting for the corporal to open the door.

  “What happened?” he asked as he walked up.