Countdown Amageddon (The Spiral Slayers Book 2)

by Rusty Williamson

  “Suddenly all the things that have happened, instead of having no reason behind them, all have very good reasons. Suddenly everything makes sense.”

  “However, if all this isn’t enough, we have a very easy way to test this theory. We ask the Loud to leave our system at a high speed and at an angle that will expose their departure to the alien. Make it obvious to the approaching alien that they are leaving. I predict that as soon as all the Loud leave, the alien will see this on their Tachyon scope and we’ll see the alien change course to pursue them on our Tachyon scope. And, ladies and gentlemen…right there, all of our problems will be solved. The destruction of our species and our beautiful planet will no longer be in our future.”

  “If, on the other hand, the alien does not change course, then the Loud simply come back and we continue as before…no harm done.”

  “You must see that by allowing the Loud to stay, and by us literally working around the clock preparing a war machine to meet this alien with the Loud in battle, we’ve taken sides in a war that has nothing to do with us. A war we know nothing about. We must tell the Loud to leave so we can go on about our lives.”

  “Even if you believe the senseless things we are being told…with the very existence of our civilization at stake, we should, we must, consider this possibility and perform this simple test. There is no down side. We are only talking about one or two years. It’s a win, win situation.”

  “That’s all we’re asking. Is that unreasonable? Please help us in demanding that we at least put this very real possibility to the test. Help us by joining us at the main gate of the Loud Compound tomorrow morning. We are asking nothing unreasonable. In fact, there is only one reason that our government or, for that matter, the Loud, would refuse such a test and that reason is that it will expose the truth. That the Loud have made us their ‘immortal’ slaves to help them fight their war with this alien.”

  ---

  When Jan and Lenny returned from Dr. Radford’s town meeting, they pulled Woodworth aside and took him to Jan’s office where she closed the door and pulled the blinds shut.

  She handed Woodworth the recorder. “Take this somewhere private and listen to it.”

  Woodworth took the device and slowly looked back up at Jan. Then he looked over at Lenny. They both looked pale and in shock.

  Lenny said, “I’m afraid they have it right, Professor Woodworth. We should have seen the truth of it long ago.”

  Disbelief passed over Woodworth’s face. “I sent you to gather information and…you come back spouting their rhetoric?”

  Both looked down, ashamed at Woodworth’s words. After a moment, Jan spoke without meeting Woodworth’s eyes, “Lenny’s convinced Radford has the truth on his side, and…” she looked up at him knowingly, “I don’t blame him.” She and Woodworth both had Gray Raven Security and knew that the alien’s activities had been observed in galaxies beyond their own…knew that the alien’s real objective lie at the hearts of galaxies. Lenny had what he thought was the top level of security, Red Raven.

  Jan continued carefully, “I’m reserving judgment…” she looked over at Lenny, “at least as much as I can, but,” she pointed at the recorder, “you need to hear that. Floyd…” she said, the pain evident in her voice, “…everything fits…like a glove Floyd, like a glove.”

  Woodworth spoke using great effort to keep his voice neutral, “I will listen…with great interest.” Then Woodworth left, taking the recorder to his office.

  After listening to it, he pulled out his com unit. He had never called anything higher than a Falcon Alert. He punched in the proper commands, then he scrolled down to ‘Gray Raven Alert’ and pushed send. Of course, this was the highest level his com unit possessed. He had no idea that another even higher security level existed—Black Raven. And he had no idea that even he did not know everything.

  ---

  Jan met Woodworth in the Loud Compound’s underground situation room to meet with the president and the rest of the inner-circle except for Adamarus who was in transit and not available. Everyone but Woodworth and Jan teleconferenced in. Even Bugs’ avatar appeared on a teleconferencing screen.

  Woodworth played Dr. Radford’s speech twice for the group and was now saying, “You can see what I mean…he’d convince me if I didn’t know better. And…the only reason I know better is because of the Gray Raven knowledge. Radford believes in what he says and sees himself as leading a crusade.” Woodworth shook his head and looked around at the group. “All of these things add up to a very dangerous situation.”

  “Hell, I can’t believe this,” the President said. Wicker had been under enormous pressure from a dozen different directions since the leak of the approaching alien ship. He had dark circles under his eyes and his suit was wrinkled from grabbing naps between meetings. He drummed his fingers. “Recommendations?” No one said anything.

  Finally, Radin said to Woodworth, “Are you serious about Lenny believing this stuff?”

  Woodworth raised his hands, “I can’t blame him. It’s convincing as hell.”

  Radin looked away and nodded, “I must admit, it’s a very believable scenario he’s dreamed up.”

  The President said, “Okay, can we send the Loud away and do this ‘test’?”

  Leewood took this question, “Sir, doing that would set us back in hundreds of different areas. It seems like we have a lot of time, but I assure you, sir, it only seems that way. It’s not just the work the Loud are doing nor even our need for the Loud’s expertise and support. Without the Loud ships for the transport of personnel and supplies, we are looking at using human ships to accomplish this. Immediately that means that trips taking a few hours will take months, and for our installations near the ice cloud, we're talking decades. In fact, we’d have to discontinue those operations and recall all of our personnel as we could no longer supply them with life critical supplies in time.”

  “You’re right,” the President agreed, “What about releasing just enough of the Gray Raven material to disprove their point of view?”

  Donnelly spoke up, “We have to show them that the alien ship came directly from outside the galaxy to the Loud’s system, which means showing when it left the last galaxy it was in and…”

  “Which means telling everyone everything,” Radin cut in.

  “And what’s really so wrong with that?” Leewood asked.

  Harrington gave him an incredulous look, “Suicides, madness, giving up, losing hope…”

  “Not everyone,” Leewood corrected, “just Dr. Radford.”

  President Wicker sighed, “I’m not sure convincing Radford would put the genie back in the bottle. His version of what’s going on is too good. Even if he denounces it…people will cry he caved in to government pressure. I don’t know.”

  There was silence for a minute, then Leewood said, “I see other problems too. Say we grant Radford security and tell him all. What exactly is he supposed to do? Go to his thousands of followers and say, ‘I was wrong, they are right, but I can’t tell you how I know this’? There must be other ways to effectively convince the public that we’re telling the truth.”

  From the teleconference screen, they heard Wicker’s com unit buzz and watched him as he answered it, turned away and spoke in hushed tones to people off screen.

  Then Leewood’s com unit went off just as Radin’s did. Then everyone’s com unit sounded. The President signaled to everyone to place their com units on hold and said, “I’m afraid Radford and his movement have been working overtime…the number of protestors in front of your main gate has increased to dangerous proportions. They’ve ignored orders to disburse. I’ve just given permission to use force to break it up before they overwhelm the barriers.”

  ---

  Leewood and Radin were asked to join General Burnwall to help coordinate the forces that would disburse the protestors in Hillcrest, whose numbers had now reached a staggering 10,000.

  Woodworth had been contacted by Jan, who requested his p
resence at the Communications Center. He walked in and immediately Jan grabbed his arm and led him into the next room. “Floyd, the analysis you ordered on the audio collection data found something incredible.” The next room was a soundproof room that held computers and other equipment for analyzing audio. Lenny was there, looking angry. Along with him was a technician in a white coat. Jan looked at the technician, “Tell him.”

  The technician closed the door, blocking out the noise from the crowd outside the gate. “The recording you brought me is filled with subliminal messages,” the technician said. “After I filtered out all of the analog noise and broke apart the digital stuff—that’s sound from speakers—I got this.” He entered a command on one of the computers.

  It wasn’t like a voice speaking, but more like static sounds put together to form words. The words said: “This is truth…trust…integrity…honesty…” then it repeated.

  Woodworth turned to Lenny, “Do you still believe them?”

  “I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Lenny spat.

  A roar from the protestors made it into the soundproof room. Woodworth turned to Jan, “All hell is about to break loose out there. We need a safe place to watch from.”

  Jan’s eyes slid to the soundproof door as another roar made it through. “I know the perfect place.”

  Jan led Woodworth to an empty five-story building. It was just being constructed next to the main gate. Cables and wires still hung from the ceilings and there was little more than the outer glass walls and floors. Dust covered everything. The building was next to the gate and ran along the perimeter.

  The noise from the crowd was deafening. Currently they were chanting, “No more…it’s not our war…” repeatedly and it seemed to be getting louder.

  The only working elevator was a large service elevator. They got in and went up to the top floor.

  They positioned themselves by the tinted windows facing the protesters on the Southwestern side. From their vantage point, they could look over Hillcrest, see the Twins River meandering at the city’s edge and beyond to the rolling green hills back dropped by distant mountains. The sky was cloudless and a rare deep crystal blue.

  They saw none of this as their attention was focused below on the 10,000 protestors waving signs and chanting. The combined voices produced a roar and vibration that Woodworth and Jan could feel through the soles of their shoes. The chanted statement itself created its own eerie melody, “Noooo more! It’s not our war!” over and over. It sent shudders up Jan’s spine.

  The crowd had crossed an invisible line this morning and taken the protest to a new level. They had started harassing vehicles trying to enter and leave the compound, throwing rocks and bottles, swinging and striking with their signs or lengths of wood, surrounding the vehicles and rocking them back and forth. Nothing could get in or out. The elevation hadn’t been completely unexpected, but it had been dreaded.

  All morning, loudspeakers had ordered the crowd to disperse, threatened that force would be used, given them a deadline—all of which had been ignored. The deadline had passed and now people were going to get hurt.

  He felt Jan squeeze his arm and looked down again at the mass of people. But Jan was pointing beyond the protestors. He raised his eyes and saw at least two dozen helicopters flying low a mile beyond the crowd. As he watched, they slowed to a stop then hovered.

  He looked back down at the protestors. The streets, the sidewalks, every bit of ground area was covered by chanting, sign waving heads, stretching off in every direction for as far as he could see. As far as he could tell, the protestors were unaware of the forces gathering around them.

  Looking back up, Woodworth saw that soldiers were dropping down on ropes from the hovering crafts. He estimated about a dozen from each helicopter. He knew they were coming in by ground as well, surrounding the protesters.

  A new sound came from behind them and Woodworth and Jan both turned and hurried across the empty floor to the windows facing into the compound. Below them, they could see military vehicles pulling up just out of sight of the protesters. Even before they came to a stop, men in battle gear and carrying weapons were jumping out and falling into formation. This was happening behind the building they were in as well as the building across the street.

  They knew that all the weapons were loaded with rubber bullets. Only ‘non-lethal’ weapons would be used.

  Thinking of this, Woodworth looked around for the VFT units. The VFT units or, Virtual Flame Throwers, were perhaps the cruelest of their non-lethal arsenal. The rubber bullets could put your eyes out, even kill if they hit certain areas, but the VFTs, as harmless as they were, caused unbelievable agony. It was said that the VFT could not harm a person, but Woodworth had his doubts. If nothing else, he was sure there could be secondary injuries as the targets jerked and withered in pain.

  As soon as all the troops were unloaded and in formation, their transportation retreated. Then the VFT units came into view: little more than trucks with generators in back and dishes mounted well above the driver, facing forward. They pulled up on both sides of the troop formations and he counted eight units.

  For a moment, Woodworth wondered how this was going to play out. Yes, he remembered, through a combination of injections and shields worn beneath their uniforms, the troops would be conditioned so they would not feel the negative effects of the VFTs.

  Suddenly Jan hugged Woodworth, burying her head in his chest. It surprised him and he realized that she was shaking and crying. He was suddenly in a state of conflict—he should never have allowed her here. He knew he should take Jan away now. This was going to be horrible, yet, he realized that he didn’t want to leave—he wanted to see it…had to see it.

  Jan was now tugging him toward the elevators. Above the chanting of the crowd, he could hear her saying, “Please take me away from here.” He looked back forlornly toward the front windows—where he wanted to be—then he turned his head and let her pull him toward the elevator.

  “Noooo more! It’s not our war! Noooo more! It’s not our war! Noooo more! It’s not our war!”

  Halfway to the elevators, a confusion of noise arose within the chant. Then the screams began. The chant went on—the vast majority of the protestors had no clue yet what was happening. Then gunfire broke out—lots of it—and then the horrible screaming and panicked yelling broke out. Still, through all this, the chanting continued. The nightmarish collage of sounds got louder and louder.

  Jan was frantically holding Woodworth with one arm, dragging him toward the elevators. At the same time, she was burying her left ear into his chest while holding the other ear with her free hand, trying to block out the sounds.

  They were only a dozen feet from the elevator, when it happened.

  BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOO-BOOM, BOOM, BOO-BOO-BOOM, BOOM…

  It was the loudest thing Woodworth had ever heard and it went on and on. The windows rattled so hard that Woodworth was sure they would shatter. Each boom threw dust up until the air was full of it. Finally, the explosions ended.

  The first thing Woodworth realized was that they had both fallen to the floor. Jan was on her knees, folded in upon herself, holding her ears and rocking back and forth. There was so much dust in the air that Woodworth could barely see the elevator. They were both choking and gagging. Then the sounds from outside were coming back. It came to Woodworth that what had just happened had been the tear gas, flash-bang and concussion barrage. The VFT attacks would follow from the right and left flanks. Woodworth realized that there was no more chanting. Now there was only gunfire, screaming, and yelling.

  The VFTs did not make any kind of noise per say, but the shrill waves of blood-chilling screams announced their arrival into the fray.

  He helped Jan up and took her to the service elevator—his desire to look was gone.

  ---

  Adamarus was awakened by the brief shutter that ran through the shuttle as it docked. He had gotten some work done during the four-hour hop; however
, the hum of engines and air vents had lured him into a nap for the last 40 minutes.

  As he rubbed his eyes, a ding sounded and he heard the announcement that passengers could begin to disembark. He retrieved a small bag from under his seat but instead of trying to work his way into the already crowded aisle, he remained seated and checked his PDA.

  He hit the news streams first looking for any new developments on the Radford madness playing out on the surface—nothing…on the news feeds anyway. He checked messages…but again nothing. The last he’d heard was a message giving a brief description of what Jan and Lenny had heard at Radford’s town meeting and he’d seen the news on the clash between protesters and government forces at Hillcrest.

  He took time for a short note to Grace and Nero saying he’d arrived at Anderson.

  When the aisle was almost empty, he got up and followed the remaining passengers off the ship.

  As he entered the arrivals lobby, a tall uniformed man stepped up with a smile and saluted, “Admiral Maximus?”

  Adamarus returned the salute, “That’s me.”

  “Lt. Morris, Anderson Security. Welcome to the Anderson Shipyards, Admiral.” They shook hands then Morris took Adamarus’ small bag, “I’ll be transporting you to the hotel.” Morris motioned for Adamarus to follow and started walking. “Your luggage will be sent directly to your room. The first day of the briefing will starting tomorrow morning an hour later, at eight, to let late arrivals get a little more sleep.” The Lt. glanced at his watch, “Yeah…you should still have time to settle in and grab some dinner at The Sky’s Edge.”

  As they moved to the exit, Adamarus noticed the other members of the security detail moving from their various positions around the room to follow them.

  “Lt. are you on heightened security up here?” Adamarus asked.

  “Yes, sir, since noon.”

  Morris led him to the tram station where they boarded a private four-seater—it looked brand new, windows all around, sealed, quiet, padded and comfortable. Only the two of them boarded while the other six members of the security team maintained their zones around the boarding platform.