Countdown Amageddon (The Spiral Slayers Book 2)

by Rusty Williamson

  The Capital City of Axis…

  The first indication came that spring. Dr. Maryann Dawn sat in her doctor’s waiting room reading a magazine. She was the head scientist at Amular Air and Space, married to Martin W. Dawn, head scientist at Render Communication and Satellites.

  She looked at the cover story. It was about the recent attack and about Dr. Radford, who had eluded capture for over half a century. They had found Radford’s hidden base at Dark Mountain a few years ago, but arrived there too late—he and his terrorists had cleared out. The attempts at attacking defensive installations continued every few years, but tight security rebuffed these attempts. However, earlier this year Radford terrorists had bypassed security at a plant in Three Rivers. Eighteen people had died.

  The door opened and a nurse peeked out, interrupting her, “Ms. Dawn?”

  Maryann got up a little slower than usual; her abdomen was just getting large enough to hinder her. She followed the nurse back through the outer door and sat in an alcove where her vitals were taken.

  “How’s the little one doing, Ms. Dawn?”

  “He’s kicking a lot…whoops, there he goes.”

  The nurse smiled and placed her hand on Maryann’s stomach but felt nothing. She shrugged and started to pull it away.

  “No, wait.” Maryann took the nurses hand and placed it back. Then she said, “Kick.”

  Immediately, the nurse felt a kick. Surprised, she pulled her hand away. “My, my.”

  Maryann knew the nurse from past visits though she couldn’t remember her name. Neither said any more as the nurse continued taking her pulse and temperature. Maryann glanced up at the nurse and caught her looking at her with wide, slightly spooked eyes.

  The nurse quickly masked her look and cleared her throat, “If you’ll step this way,” and led Maryann to a room where she was left waiting for the doctor.

  She continued to read about the hunt for Radford. Fifteen minutes later, the doctor came in. “Good morning, Mrs. Dawn. How are we today?”

  “Okay. Ah, doctor, feel here,” and she placed his hand on her stomach then said, “Kick.”

  The doctor felt a kick and his eyebrows went up.

  However, Maryann wasn’t done. “Kick, kick,” she said.

  The doctor felt two kicks and his eyebrows went up further and his mouth fell open.

  However, the finale was still to come. “Kick, kick, kick.”

  When the doctor felt three kicks with no hesitation, he pulled his hand away and took a step back.

  “This started happening a few weeks ago. Is that normal, doctor?” Maryann asked.

  The doctor licked his lips then opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He stepped up to her again, his brows now furrowed and put his finger to his lips, indicating she should say nothing, then placed his hand back on her stomach. Hesitantly he said, “Kick.”

  He felt a kick and his eyes narrowed. “Kick…kick, kick.”

  He felt kick…kick, kick. He looked up at Maryann eyes wide and he said in wonder, “That’s…absolutely amazing.” He tested it again…and again. “Mrs. Dawn, I have never seen…nor even heard of anything like this before. Absolutely amazing!”

  ---

  Around the Planet Banayour…

  Banayour was the second planet out from the Iceis sun if you counted the planetoid of Cinder. Cinder was just 13 million miles from Iceis, while Banayour orbited at 30 million, with Amular much further out at 95 million. Orbiting between Amular and Cinder, it was about three-quarters of the way to Cinder where the Hideaway Shipyards were located.

  Looking through over 30 Leviathan Two Battleships and perhaps 50 of the tiny looking L-Class Fighters, Adamarus stared at the featureless grayish-white sphere. Perpetually shrouded in clouds, it was a hot smoggy world—an example of the greenhouse effect run wild. He was trying to see the second group of fighters. Radar was picking them up, but they simply weren’t in visual range.

  This was the largest exercise to date with over 200 L-Class Fighters taking part.

  As far as Admiral Maximus was concerned, the division of rank and job title was the best idea Bugs had ever had. He was in the pilot’s seat where he belonged

  “This is Red Leader,” Adamarus said over the group channel, “Looks like we’ve got them this time. Their reinforcements can’t get here in time. Attack formation Alpha-1, weapons free…and engage.”

  The 62 fighters Adamarus commanded went from their stealth powered-down state to active status and rocketed toward the 50 unsuspecting fighters of Blue Team.

  The hectic dogfight lasted 20 minutes. They had taken out this section of Blue Team, however, Adamarus’ virtual losses were heavy and he was down to 47 fighters.

  Although Blue’s second section could not reach them in time to help, they had fired over 100 of their long-range missiles and these were just seconds away.

  “Evasive action,” Adamarus ordered.

  The mock missiles virtually claimed another 11 fighters—too many, he thought—and now Blue Team’s 50 remaining fighters were seconds away.

  “Okay, let’s reel them in,” Adamarus said with a smile. “Pattern Delta, engage.”

  His remaining 36 fighters turned, fired their afterburners and ran. As hoped, Blue Team followed in hot pursuit. That’s when Red Team’s other 60 powered-down fighters now surrounding Blue Team went active and attacked from all sides.

  “Let’s turn around and get them,” Adamarus yelled. “Pattern Alpha…engage.”

  After the mock battle, the fighters returned to their battleships. Before the after-action debrief, Adamarus hurried into his cabin to call Grace. They’d been separated for three years as Adamarus helped Burnwall and Radin train a new batch of fighter pilots. However, he had just one week more and he’d be going on leave and headed home to see her.

  ---

  Amular, the Capital City of Axis…

  Martin walked into the kitchen from the garage carrying a bag of groceries in one hand, a birthday cake in the other. “Maryann?” He called out as he set everything on the counter. Not getting an answer, he walked into the living room.

  His wife bounded down the stairs, cradling little Howie. “You are just in time,” she said, then kissed him and handed the baby to Martin.

  Howard Dawn was one-year-old. He wiggled his arms and said, “Hi Daddy! Pee-yew! I stinky-poo! All for yew!”

  Immediately, the smell hit him and he held Howie at arm’s length, “Oh, little birthday boy. You’ve certainly done it this time.”

  “I did! I did!” Howie kicked and waved his arms.

  Maryann beamed, “Ah…I’ll just put the groceries away.”

  “Thanks…I think.”

  After Martin changed Howie, he put the baby in his hanging chair and helped Maryann with dinner. A group of friends were coming over with their children to celebrate Howie’s first birthday.

  By 6:00 the balloons were up, the table decorated and a big banner had been stretched across one wall saying, “Happy Birthday Howie!”

  Howie was still in his hanging chair, but instead of swinging back and forth, he was, with great effort, using his feet to twist himself around then letting go so that the chair twirled around. “Weeeeee! Happy birthday to meeee! Happy birthday to meeeee!” On each ‘meeee’ both little hands pointed at himself.

  Maryann started toward him but the doorbell rang. “Honey, will you be a doll and check Howie’s diaper?”

  Martin smiling, but also fainting shock, looked at her with big eyes, “Again?”

  “Please,” she pleaded as she headed for the door.

  Martin walked over and picked Howie up, “Oh yeah, well Mister, can you tell me how old are you?”

  “I’m one year old,” he said proudly. “One, then two, then threeeee!”

  “And let’s see…ah, wet,” Martin said in stride.

  “Oh…well, no pee-yewy.” Howie giggled and kicked.

  While Martin took Howie to the nursery to change him, Maryann answered
the door. It was their friends, Ron and Cory, and their two-year-old girl Fran.

  Hellos were said and hugs exchanged. Cory was a third-grade teacher and hadn’t seen Howie for several months. She couldn’t believe what Maryann had told her on the phone about how much Howie was talking.

  Six other couples bringing nine other young children followed, as well as the proud grandparents, and the festivities got underway.

  Everyone was dumbfounded by Howie’s ability to communicate as well as the hundreds of questions he asked. He was far ahead of the other children, some of them five and six years old. The day passed and people started leaving.

  Ron and Cory were the last to leave and accompanied Martin and Maryann up to the nursery to put Howie to sleep in his cradle. When Maryann set him down, he looked up and said, “Mom, can you and Dad spin my cradle around really, really fast?”

  Maryann laughed, “Spin your cradle around—why Howie, whatever for?”

  Howie giggled. “To see if the horseys get pulled out.”

  The four adults looked at each other. Maryann said, “Mommy doesn’t understand honey. What horseys?”

  “Watch,” Howie said, and he made his way to the corner of the cradle where a mobile hung down from the ceiling. Four plastic horses were suspended by strings.

  “Oh, those horseys,” Maryann said.

  “Yes, Mom. See how they all hang straight down?” he asked. “Unless you hit one and then it moves, but eventually it stops and hangs straight down again. See?”

  “Yes, okay. I see that.”

  “Now watch…” and the four adults watched as Howie struggled to grab all four horses in his small hands and then he carefully turned all four clockwise so that the strings they hung by wrapped around each other and twisted. After repeating this several times he said, “Now watch closely. The horseys will start to go around and around. Ready?” He looked at them, beaming.

  “Okay,” they all said and Howie let go. The horses began to turn around as the strings unwrapped. This caused the entire mobile to start turning. The strings unwrapped and the four horses separated, each hanging downward again.

  Howie said, “See how they look? They’re turning around and around.”

  “Okay, I see,” Maryann, said.

  “Okay…” Howie said jumping up and down with excitement. “See! The horseys are being pulled out. They no longer hang straight down. They’re being pulled out.”

  Sure enough, the four horses were being pulled outward by the centrifugal force caused by being spun around. The adults were amazed with Howie’s little demonstration, but now Howie went on to completely blow their minds.

  “If you turn the crib around and around really, really fast, the horseys will look the same way they did before…like they are turning around and around really, really fast. I want to see if they still get pulled out!”

  ---

  Amular, Hillcrest…

  The shuttle came in from the North—she smiled because she knew it was him. Somehow, Grace always knew. Just look for the latest, sleekest, fanciest craft in the sky and that’d be Adamarus.

  She hadn’t seen him for three years. He was just getting back from helping Radin and Burnwall with the war games, testing Hideaway’s latest Loud improvements. She squeezed her friend’s arm and pointed.

  Harrington looked up and nodded. She knew it too, that was him.

  They both waved as the sleek new grav-bar shuttle approached. It was the latest Loud-ware. It set down without a sound 30 feet from them. It was about the size of the large Hillcrest mansion Adamarus and his family had lived in since the Loud had first made their presence known.

  The two women wandered closer, knowing it’d be a few minutes for the Admiral to batten down the hatches and all that.

  Finally, the ramp lowered and Adamarus hopped out. He was sure grinning, but then, so was she. He walked quickly to her and they hugged. “How’s my baby?”

  “Much better now, thank you,” she said.

  Adamarus turned and embraced Harrington.

  “Well it’s about time,” she said smiling.

  “Where’s Leewood?” Adamarus asked.

  Lowering her voice, she said, “Trinity.”

  “Ah,” Adamarus knew what Trinity was, if not its exact location.

  Grace looked at her watch, “You’re a little late.”

  He pointed back at the shuttle and said, “She was acting up a bit. I had to do some extra maneuvers to...blow the carbon out of her pipes.”

  “Right.” She grabbed his arm and towed him down the passage, “Oh, Wicker wants you to call…said he needed a favor.”

  ---

  Martin heard the bell, “Got it.” As he walked to the door, he could hear Maryann in the kitchen putting a lid on a pan, then coming out to greet his co-workers. It was Jim. They greeted each other.

  Jim said, “Something smells good.”

  “Noodle stuff,” Martin said. He raised both hands hopelessly, “That’s what it’s called. You’ll love it.”

  Jim laughed.

  Before he could seat his guest, Mark showed up at the door. Good, they were both here.

  They ate dinner—noodle stuff, which was incredibly good—then Maryann put Howie to bed and the men settled into the living room.

  The three of them had been given the problem of communications between the defensive elements, the most important and numerous being space ships—ships of all types, but mainly battleships.

  They’d been over it for weeks. What encryption, via what messenger and so forth and so on. They went over it again. After several hours…

  “Really we’re stuck with what we have, which is, we can send encrypted messages, keyless or keyed, omni-directional or not, everyone to everyone, one to everyone, and one to one, tight beam. No matter what, the messages can be intercepted by the alien, and decrypting…well, it’s just a matter of computer power.”

  They looked at each other in resignation.

  “You could just send everything to Serena,” came a small seven-year-old voice. Howie had been sitting at the top of the stairs listening. He got up and came down the stairs in his pajamas, dragging a large teddy bear with him. “That way you can break up the data…maybe into three separate streams converging on the receiver.”

  The three men looked up at the child coming down the stairs. At the age of seven, Howie was a ‘guest student’ at Bonnet College. He was working toward his master’s degree.

  Martin stood, “Howie! Hello, big guy. Can’t sleep?”

  “I want a cookie.”

  “Okay.”

  Howie continued as he proceeded toward the kitchen. “Put thousands of simple communication satellites in orbit around Serena and just tight beam all messages—broken into three parts—to and from the planet.”

  The three men just looked at each other as understanding kicked in and the idea took hold.

  Howie paused at the kitchen door and turned, “You split up the communication into three beams and converge the beams on the receiver. The only way to intercept all three beams is to be as big as Serena or be in exactly the same place as the communicating ship. Without all three beams, you can’t decrypt the message. Anyone else want a cookie?”

  The three scientists first went into a stunned silence and then all started talking at once. It was absolutely a brilliant idea. Loud Tachyon Com units would be altered to send data in three separate beams to the gas giant, Serena, regardless of who the message was intended for. The satellites in orbit around Serena would pick up all three streams and pass it on when the intended recipient(s) checked in with its three beams, allowing it to be triangulated. Then using the intended recipient’s coordinates, Serena would pass on the message via three separate wide-spaced beams, spaced hundreds of thousands of miles apart by the com units in orbit around the huge gas giant, converging only on the location of the receiver.

  When it was finally implemented, they called it the Howie Protocol.

  ---

  The f
avor President Wicker wanted was for Adamarus and Grace to have lunch with him and the first lady, Abigail, so…they could talk about the real favor the president wanted from Adamarus. As lunch was at The Pit, one of the best steak houses in Axis, Adamarus and Grace didn’t mind at all.

  As drinks came and they looked at the menu, the four made small talk. After ordering, Wicker came around to the topic he wanted to discuss, “We met the most gifted and interesting boy last week.”

  “Boy,” Grace said.

  “Yes,” the president continued, “the son of Martin and Maryann Dawn, two of the smartest scientists we have working for us. Both are in the thick of it on various defensive research and development projects. Both have high IQs and it seems Howard, their son, is an actual prodigy. He became a guest student at Prosser’s elementary school at the age of two. At the age of six, he got an honorary Bachelor’s degree from Winston College of Science. Simply incredible I tell you.”

  “Wow,” Grace said, while Adamarus raised his eyebrows. Both were impressed.

  “You think he can help us with the R&D…” Adamarus guessed.

  “Already has,” Wicker said, then paused as the food was served.

  “Really,” Adamarus replied.

  “And he’s the sweetest little boy,” Abigail added.

  “So you’ve both met him?” Grace asked.

  “Yes,” Abigail said, “we had dinner with the family a week ago. It’s unbelievable to talk to a seven-year-old boy who’s so intelligent and yet still so like a seven-year-old. Here he’s meeting the president and all he wants to do is…” she looked over at her husband and they both laughed, “meet you, Adamarus.”

  “Me?” Adamarus said in disbelief.

  Grace placed a hand on Adamarus’ shoulder, “Why, I think that’s sweet. He wants to meet my famous hero husband.”

  Adamarus blushed, “Well then, I’ll have to meet him.”

  “Well, as a matter of fact,” Wicker said, “I had to promise he would meet you before he agreed to help us out with our defense R&D work.”

  “We’ll have to set something up,” Adamarus said.

  “Already done,” Wicker announced. “This Sunday, you and Grace are taking him to the zoo.”

  “Splendid, I haven’t been to the Axis Zoo in decades,” Adamarus said.