Leaning back, Warren closed his eyes. There was still so much to do, and the worst was still ahead of them. He just hoped that when this was all over the bunker and the people entrusted to him were still here. The bigger question was what type of world would they find themselves in? What would the surface be like when the neutron star and black hole exited the solar system? Warren opened his eyes and shook his head. He couldn’t afford to think about that now; he had over 6,000 people to look after. They had to be his first priority.
Chapter Thirteen
Mase was in the Control Center with Major Daniels and Captain Struthers. For the last month, they had been carefully detonating nuclear weapons deep beneath the surface of the Moon in an attempt to reduce the threat of moonquakes later when the neutron star approached. General Karver had sent the small nukes up just before the cape fell on two special shuttles launched from the military launch centers.
In order to relieve the pressure from known quake zones around Tycho Crater, they had a crew that had been carefully drilling deep beneath the Moon’s surface. Under the watchful eyes of a number of Captain Struther’s marines, who were familiar with nuclear weapons of this type, they lowered the nukes down the holes and then detonated them. The current drill hole was one hundred and twenty miles north of Tycho Crater. Lieutenant Macy Kingston was supervising the positioning of the nuke in the hole at the drill site.
“Nuke is at the proper depth,” Kingston reported from the Moon Buggy she had just returned to. Tycho City had furnished a mining crew to operate the drill, and she had a squad of her marines that were trained in the use of nuclear weapons to do the rest.
“Two thousand feet,” reported Major Daniels, turning to look at Mase.
“That’s the correct depth,” Isaac commented from where he was standing looking down at a table with some seismological charts spread out. “If we set the nuke off there it should relieve the pressure off of a major underground fault that runs through that entire area.”
Mase nodded. General Karver had sent up forty of the small nukes, and this would be the twenty eighth one they had used. “Major Daniels, give Lieutenant Kingston the go ahead to arm the nuke and move off to a safe distance.”
Stephanie passed on the order. Now they would have to wait until the drilling team and the marine squad moved out of the area.
Twenty minutes later, they received the all clear from Lieutenant Kingston. They had moved back to a small hill that overlooked the drilling site where they could observe the results of their handiwork.
“Ready to detonate,” Major Daniels informed Mase.
Mase nodded, and Major Daniels transmitted the detonation signal to the nuke.
They all turned to look at the main viewscreen, which was transmitting a video feed from one of the Moon Buggies. In the distance, they could see the gray pockmarked surface of the Moon. Suddenly, in one small area, the lunar surface seemed to rise up and then fall back in on itself. Lunar dust spread out and began to fall slowly back down in the light lunar gravity.
“We have confirmed detonation,” Captain Struthers reported from where he was watching some instruments.
“I would say that blast was a success,” Isaac added as he looked at several seismographs that had recorded the blast. There were still some major aftershocks occurring beneath the blast site, but he knew that those would gradually taper off. “That’s the last one.”
“I’m glad,” Mase responded with a sigh of relief. “Setting off nukes on the Moon is a little unnerving.”
“Isn’t the FarQuest supposed to rendezvous with the neutron star today?” Captain Struthers asked as he turned around to face Commander Colton.
“The crew is supposed to be wakened later today,” responded Mase, recalling his latest conversation with Steve up on Star One. “We should have some preliminary data from them on the neutron star and black hole soon after.”
“I still can’t believe a damn black hole is with that neutron star,” Isaac muttered, worriedly. “How close are they now?”
“About 8 billion miles,” Mase answered. He had spoken to Adam Strong at Farside earlier and asked some of the same questions.
Isaac only shook his head. He was just glad he wasn’t on that ship. If something went wrong, there was no way to send a rescue mission. He still found it hard to believe that Pierre LaRann and LeAnn Kelly had volunteered to go on the FarQuest. He had known both for quite some time and hoped they made it back safely.
-
It was several days later and Mase had just finished talking to a distraught Steve on Star One. He looked over at Charles Turner and Adam Strong who had flown in from Farside just for this meeting.
“It’s confirmed,” Mase said, leaning back in his chair with a heavy sigh. He looked slowly around the small group in the conference room. “The FarQuest is gone. From the last reports, we believe that Commander Tyler attempted to fly the ship through the wormhole in the center of the black hole.”
“Why?” Isaac asked in shock. “Why would they attempt to do that?”
“The ship was badly damaged in an accident,” Mase responded. “There was some type of explosion on board that damaged their drive systems. By the time they finished the necessary repairs, they were trapped in the gravity field of the black hole and were being pulled in. Professor LaRann felt their only hope of survival was to attempt to navigate through the wormhole at the black hole’s center.”
“LaRann has always theorized that a non rotating black hole of just the right size might have a traversable wormhole,” commented Adam, shaking his head in disbelief. It was difficult to acknowledge that Pierre and LeAnn might be gone. He just hoped Pierre’s theories had been correct and they had made it through safely.
“Tyler wouldn’t have agreed to it if he didn’t think they had a chance,” Anthony added, not wanting to believe that two of his good friends had just died. “If anyone could pull something like this off and survive it, it would be Ty and Captain Simpson.”
“What does Teela say?” Isaac asked, curious to know what Star One’s AI thought about the chances of the FarQuest surviving the passage through the wormhole.
“She claims there is a fifty percent chance that they made it,” Mase answered. “Needless to say, the people on Star One are very upset about these developments.”
“I don’t blame them,” spoke Adam, knowing the research staff at Farside would be deeply saddened upon learning the fate of LeAnn and Pierre.
Mase took a deep breath and then looked at the assembled group. “The situation on Earth is rapidly deteriorating also. There is widespread flooding and dangerous storms spreading across the globe. From the few news reports we have been able to pick up, it is utter chaos down there.”
“It’s the affects of the neutron star and the black hole,” stated Adam, recalling the latest data. “I have seen the simulations run by Teela on Star One. We’re about thirty days away from seeing additional earthquake activity and sixty days from increased volcanic eruptions. Millions of people are dying daily, and it’s only going to get worse.”
“Millions,” Linda uttered, stunned. She wondered how her parents were doing. They lived on the outskirts of Kansas City in the Midwest and, with most communications out, she had no way to contact them. She had tried several times but to no avail. Major Daniels had even used one of the military communication satellites to try to ring Linda’s mom’s cell phone, but there had been no answer.
“Yes, millions,” Adam reiterated in a somber tone. “The harvest for this year has pretty much been lost due to the storms. Crops that were ready to harvest are being subjected to heavy rain, and the harvesting equipment can’t get into the fields. In other areas, it’s so muddy that crops can’t be planted. There is already widespread hunger, and the power grids are starting to fail.”
“It’s only going to get worse,” Charles continued as he looked around the group. “I have seen some of the weather satellite downloads, and there are massive hurricanes in the At
lantic and typhoons in the Pacific. Several are larger and more destructive than any ever recorded before. Shorelines are becoming inundated with massive flooding and will never be the same again.”
Mase nodded; he had seen Teela’s forecasts of what Earth was going to go through. “That’s why it’s important we get the habitats completed. We’ll start seeing some effects here as well shortly with an increase in moonquakes. Isaac, where are we on the new Tycho City habitat and our reactor?”
“The digging and blasting are finished, and the walls and the roof have been smoothed out in the main cavern,” he reported as he glanced down at several sheets of paper in front of him. “The fusion reactor is functioning normally and we are running three shifts a day producing Luxen.”
“What exactly is Luxen?” Jolene asked with a frown on her face. She had heard this metal mentioned numerous times, but no one had really told her why it was so important.
“It’s a special alloy that can only be created under tremendous heat and pressure,” Isaac explained. “The only way Luxen can be formed is inside a fusion reactor. Until recently just Star One could produce Luxen, but with the construction of our own reactor we are now producing it ourselves.”
“Luxen is unusually strong and resilient, as well as impervious to most forms of radiation,” continued Mase, arching his eyebrows. “Since its discovery it has been used to line all of the rocket tubes, engines, and SRBs for our shuttles.”
“We will be using Luxen for the main roof supports in the new Tycho City cavern as well as a layer to cover the walls and the roof,” Isaac added. “We’re going to need a lot of it, and that’s why we’re running a three shift operation.”
“Eventually we will be adding a second fusion reactor, but that will have to wait until the city is done,” Mase said.
Jolene nodded. They were trying to do so much that, at times, it seemed almost impossible. Only yesterday, they had finished the cavern for the second ecological habitat, and she already had a team formed to begin working in it. She had also drawn up plans for a third cavern if they could find the resources.
“We have nearly finished laying the infrastructure for the new city,” added Steffan, looking down at his notes. “We will begin actual construction of buildings in about another week.”
“Sounds good,” responded Mase, nodding his head and feeling pleased with the progress they were making.
They continued to discuss what else needed to be done as well as what had happened to the FarQuest. Once the meeting was over, Mase intended to contact Steve again and see if he had heard or found out anything more about the spacecraft.
-
Trace was standing on the porch looking down the long, winding drive. It was dark, and he thought he had seen a light in the distance. The rain had stopped several hours ago, and now only a light mist was falling, but Trace knew this was only a brief respite.
“See anything?” his father asked, peering intently down the drive. His father was holding a 223 caliber AR-15 with a night scope on it.
Trace reached down to his waist and, pulling his nine-millimeter pistol from its holster, he popped out the fifteen round clip to make sure it was fully loaded. Looking down the driveway, he thought he saw the dim flash of a light again. It was difficult to tell for certain through the mist. He replaced the clip, chambered a round, replaced the pistol in the holster, and glanced over at his dad. “There’s someone down there.”
“I know,” James replied as Phillip Galleger stepped out onto the porch. He was carrying his twelve-gauge shotgun and a pair of night vision goggles.
“You two stay here and let me check this out,” Trace said as he stepped off the porch. “It will be best if I do this alone.”
“Be careful,” James cautioned. “You don’t know who may be out there.”
“I will,” Trace responded.
The two older men watched as Trace vanished into the night. “I hope he knows what he’s doing,” spoke Phillip, gazing nervously down the road.
“He does,” responded James, trusting his son’s military experience.
Trace moved stealthily through the trees, being as quiet as possible. He had hunted this farm when he was younger and was intimately familiar with every inch of it. He had to move slowly as the ground was extremely muddy and slippery. After a few minutes, he reached the point he wanted behind a large old oak tree at a bend in the driveway. From here, he would be able to see anyone attempting to come up the road. He had only been there for a minute when he heard voices.
“You think they will have food here?” a man’s voice spoke.
“Damn right,” another responded. “James Lewis and his wife Alice will have everything we need.”
“Will they give it to us?” another asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” the second voice spoke. “We kill them and take what we need. A farm like this, they’re bound to have a tractor or a four wheeled drive pickup we can take. Hell, after we kill them we can just stay here for a while or at least until this damn weather clears up.”
“It didn’t feel right killing those farmers at that last house,” spoke the first man. “They were out of food and hungry too.”
“Survival of the fittest,” the second man spoke in an uncaring voice.
Trace took a deep breath, slowly took his pistol out of its holster, and slid the safety off. He took careful aim and waited. It was obvious that these men had already killed and would kill again; that didn’t leave him much of a choice. He could see three dim shadows out on the driveway.
“Crap,” one of the men said as he slipped and fell in the mud.
A light flashed on, and that was all that Trace needed. One of the men was lit up lying on the ground, and he had good silhouettes of the other two. His finger tightened on the trigger and the man next to the one holding the light dropped. Two more quick shots and there was silence. The light was still on, but now it was lying on the ground.
Trace walked out of the brush and flipped on the flashlight he had brought with him. Holding his pistol at the ready, he walked slowly over to the three prone figures.
Two were obviously dead, but the third was still alive. He was the one that had fallen originally in the mud. He looked up at Trace with obvious fear in his eyes. “Don’t shoot,” the man begged. “We didn’t mean any harm.”
Trace knew all three of these men had already killed and would have tried to kill his parents if the situation was different. Almost mechanically, he felt his arm rise and the pistol bucked in his hand once more with a sharp, echoing report. The man slid back down into the mud, joining his other two friends.
“What’s going on?” Trace heard his father shout.
James and Phillip came running through the mud, their weapons at the ready. Both came to a stop as they saw the three dead men at Trace’s feet.
“They were coming to kill us and take our food,” Trace explained, trying to hold in his emotions after killing three men. “I heard them talking about how they had already killed another farm family earlier.”
“You did what you had to do,” Phillip said as he shined his light over the three bodies. He stepped over and checked to make sure all three were dead. “We will leave them here for tonight and bury them in the morning once the sun comes up.”
“It’s getting more dangerous every day,” James said as they turned and started walking back toward the house. “We’re either going to have to post a guard or go into the bunker.”
“I hate going into the bunker so soon,” Phillip said with a frown. “But we may have no other choice. There may be more looters like those three roaming around, and isolated farms would be a good target.”
“We will get together with the others in the morning and discuss it,” James suggested. He looked over at Trace, who was very quiet. “You had no choice, Trace,” he said, reaching out and putting his hand on his son’s shoulder.’
“I know, Dad,” responded Trace, feeling an emptiness inside. “It’s just so hard.�
�� He had hoped that once the fighting at the cape was finished he would never have to use a weapon again to take a life.
“We’re all going to have to make hard decisions at some point in time,” James said. “Let’s just hope we all make the right ones.”
-
Warren Timmons was in the Control Center for the bunker, gazing at a number of screens on the wall. Scene after scene of the ongoing disaster upon the surface was being displayed. Some of the video feeds were being picked up from orbiting satellites and others from a hidden antenna array upon the top of a nearby mountain.
“It’s getting worse every day,” spoke Major Burns, shaking his head. “There are reports now of widespread flooding worldwide, and the hurricanes and typhoons are flooding vast areas of the world’s coastlines.”
“What about our own government, how are they doing?” Warren asked. They had heard a few government broadcasts, but all they seemed to be trying do was attempting to blame the changes in the weather on Star One.
“Just the usual propaganda,” Burns replied with disgust in his voice. “The individual states are doing the best they can and the Federal government seems to be helpless to deal with the worsening situation. From the latest reports, nearly sixty percent of the power grid is now down and food is becoming scarce. We are receiving widespread reports of looting and a complete breakdown of civil control in some sections of the country.”
Warren nodded. This was just what the Super Crays had predicted. Once the earthquakes and the volcanoes begin to erupt, the surface would quickly become uninhabitable.
“Do we have room for more people?” he asked, turning to face Major Burns. He wondered if it were feasible to try to rescue more people and bring them into the shelter.
“We would need more supplies,” answered Burns, looking quizzically at Timmons. “Adding more people would seriously stretch our resources and require us to open up the bunker and reveal our location. Even with the horrid conditions on the surface, word of our location would spread quickly through word of mouth. It would take only one of the surviving radio stations to broadcast our position and Senator Farley would be aware of our existence.”
Star One: Tycho City Survival Page 18
