by D F Capps
“What do you need?” Novak asked.
“See that drawer on your right? We need tools. Half inch socket wrench and a knife.”
Novak pulled the wrench and the correct socket from the drawer, and ran over to Theo.
“Losing altitude,” his pilot reported. “No control functions.”
Theo yanked a heavy cable from under the console. “Cut a half inch of the insulation off with your knife.”
Novak went to work on the cable as Theo scurried deeper under the console. He removed the bolt connecting the power cable to the directional module connector and handed it to Novak.
“Strip half an inch off this one, too.”
“Falling rapidly,” the pilot said. “We’re going to crash. Ten seconds to impact!”
Theo unbolted the three-inch stub of cable extending from the connector to the altitude control module and tossed it out onto the floor. There would be no directional control, but the altitude control looked functional, if he could just restore power to it. The shot from the Zeta Grey saucer had destroyed the directional control and severed the power cable that fed the altitude control. If he could get power to the altitude control, they could make a controlled landing. They just couldn’t pick where that would be.
Theo stuck his hand out from under the console. “Short cable!”
Novak slapped the cable into Theo’s hand. He jammed the cable in place, spun the bolt through the connector, and secured it with the wrench.
“Five seconds!”
Theo reached out again. “Long cable!”
Novak again slapped the cable into Theo’s hand.
Theo made a quick check of the mess of wires under the control console and jammed the two bare ends of cable together, lowering his head to protect his face from the bright electric arc that formed as the cables touched.
“Decelerating,” the pilot shouted. “Brace for impact!”
* * *
Dr. Schna examined the holographic display as Peggy Sue lay unconscious on his operating table. As intended by the Zeta Greys, her brain neuron cells had been attracted to, and had attached to the implant. He took a deep breath and inserted the small, narrow partitioning beam instrument into her nose and guided it into the upper nasal cavity. He found the tiny scar where the implant had been inserted and opened it up. He slowly worked into the brain avoiding as many blood vessels as he could.
He located the implant and sighed. The blood vessels had collected around the alien device. The blood brain barrier was a coating on the blood vessels. The less damage he could manage to the blood vessels, the more optimistic the end result would be. Locating the bottom of the alien implant, he worked the partitioning beam up each face of the device. That would be the easy part of the procedure. Getting the top of the device free of any connections to the neurons, glial cells, and the capillaries was going to be the real trick. The old method was to slowly tear the implant loose, leaving blood and additional damage inside the brain.
He withdrew the partitioning beam instrument and examined the long, thin end. It was essentially a coated fiber optic strand. Normally the specific blue light frequency that caused the cells to separate from one another emerged straight out the end of the strand. He needed the light to be deflected to the side, at least to a reasonable degree. He opened a drawer under the table and sorted through the attachments he had available. Nothing seemed to be workable. He opened another drawer and examined its contents. He found a diamond sharpening pad and used it to create a bevel on the end of the fiber strand. The angle on the end would bend the light, just as a prism did to sunlight. Since there was only one frequency of light, the partitioning beam would still be focused enough to do the job.
He reinserted the long, thin instrument through her nose and into her brain. He worked the instrument up along the side of the alien implant until he reached the top that was still attached to her brain. He slowly worked the partitioning beam across the top of the implant, then pulled back and fed the fiber up the opposite side. After another few minutes, the implant came loose. Dr. Schna reached in with a thin gripper and grabbed the implant, gently guiding it out through the opening. He held the implant up to the light. The micro circuits were so small he couldn’t see them, but he knew they were there. He placed the implant in a glass dish and returned to Peggy Sue.
He checked the holographic display. The partitioning beam had spread out somewhat from the bevel on the end. Too many cells had separated from each other and were floating in the cerebral spinal fluid. He used his micro suction tube to remove the stray cells, and began filling in the cellular material inside Peggy Sue’s brain. In another ten minutes he closed the skin of the upper nasal cavity and activated the deep red healing light. He watched her body respond to the healing light and, when the treatment was complete, brought her out of the electrically induced anesthesia.
Peggy Sue slowly opened her eyes.
Dr. Schna smiled and held the implant up for her to see.
Tears rolled out of her eyes. “Thank you,” she said softly. “Am I damaged?”
He shook his head. “Everything went well. I had to improvise a bit, but you are going to be fine.”
* * *
Diane looked in horror as the transport ship with Theo aboard tipped in its rapid fall from the sky. She glanced at the ground below them. It was a mixture of forest, scrub brush, and rocks. Her first thought was to fly under the transport ship and use her fighter to keep it from falling, but the only thing that would touch the underside of the transport was the clear canopy, which wasn’t going to hold the weight. She wondered how the electrogravitics fields would interact. Either way, even trying was going to be scary.
“Buddha, think! There has to be something we can do!”
“They’re angled to the edge of the forest,” Buddha replied. “We can help them either hit the trees, the rocks, or the scrub brush.”
“Scrub brush!” Diane shouted.
“At their speed, it may not make any difference. The impact may kill everyone.”
Diane shook her head. “We have to try. Guide them over the brush.”
“Copy, Jink.”
Diane and Buddha guided their fighters around to the side of the falling transport headed for the trees as another fighter flew in and tried to raise the lowest edge of the transport. A bright wall of light formed between the fighter craft and the transport. The fields are interacting, she thought. So far nothing had blown up. That was encouraging. They managed to get the transport almost level and away from the trees before they had to break off.
The transport slowed dramatically as it approached the ground, hitting the scrub brush with a solid thump.
* * *
Diane and her squadron landed on the road that cut through the scrub brush. They were about four miles from the HAARP facility and in plain view of Abbott’s ground forces headed to the facility.
She ran through the brush on her way to the transport. As she arrived, the main door and ramp tried to open, but because the saucer sat on the ground without the landing pods extended, the ramp would only open about three feet before it jammed. She crawled into the transport and looked around.
Novak’s men were picking up their gear and ghillie suits. They didn’t look happy but they were still alive and focused on the next part of their mission. Colonel Novak climbed down the ladder from the control center and joined his men as they crawled down the ramp.
“Theo?” Diane asked.
Novak pointed to the ladder.
She rushed up into the flight deck.
“What a mess,” Theo said, still half stuck under the control console.
“You’re alive!” Diane said as she knelt down beside him.
* * *
“Squadron One,” Hollis’s voice came over the radio.
“Right here,” Diane answered.
“Bad news,” Hollis said. “Satellite images show six M1A1 Main Battle tanks headed to your location, plus four 155mm howitzers setting up. All
of them are south of your location. If they can’t get to the HAARP facility, they’ll destroy it from a distance.”
Diane looked over at Theo working on the transport saucer, trying to get it to work. “Copy Command. What kind of range on the howitzers?”
Hollis paused. “Fifteen miles.”
“Copy. Will advise.”
Diane walked over to Buddha. “You want to try picking off some squirrels in the trees?”
He turned and looked at her with a frown on his face. “Squirrels?”
She grinned. “A reference to highly accurate marksmanship.”
He nodded. “Like picking off small Greys in Sheridan?”
“Only the other way around. This time we want to take out equipment and leave the people safe.”
He raised his eyebrows. “We’re going after our own people?”
“Technically, President Abbott’s people, but yes, we need to stop our own people.”
He gave her an understanding smile. “So what did a squirrel ever do to you?”
She chuckled, turned, and walked to her fighter. “You coming? It could be fun.”
He grinned, shook his head, and walked over to his fighter.
* * *
Buddha swung east and circled around to the south. He spotted the four locations where the howitzers were being set up. He buzzed close to get a better view of the gun.
“Okay, Jink,” he said. “They load the shells into the bottom end. I just scattered the people with a close flyby. Targeting the bottom of the gun.”
He fired both cannons.
The explosion ripped the upper section from the support carriage sending the barrel spinning through the air. He ducked as a piece of the howitzer grazed the canopy of his fighter craft, leaving a deep scratch eighteen inches long. He looked at the scratch and hiked his eyebrows.
“Be advised that the artillery pieces have live shells loaded. Don’t get too close.”
He moved over to the side of the large truck that hauled the artillery piece and the crew. He put two shots from the particle beam cannon into the engine and slipped off to the next target.
* * *
Diane smiled. Leave it to Buddha to hit a live shell, she thought. The howitzers weren’t going to be much of a threat. She had slipped out in the opposite direction from Buddha and was going after the tanks. She approached from behind and targeted the tracks on the last of six tanks moving up the dirt road. Two shots to each track and the tank drove off the remaining track and stopped in the dirt. The top hatch opened and a helmeted head popped up. One look at her glowing craft and the head dropped back down and the hatch closed.
Easy enough, she thought. She swung to the side of the tank and targeted the barrel where it attached to the tank turret. Two more shots and the barrel fell onto the front of the tank and rolled off onto the ground.
She swung in behind the next tank and repeated the procedure. In less than a minute all six tanks were disabled and the four howitzers were rendered useless.
“See?” Diane said to Buddha. “It was fun.”
* * *
Novak led his men down the road to where Abbott’s ground forces would come through. He looked around. Open forest lined both sides of the road. There was a small amount of underbrush, but the ground was mostly covered by a deep layer of tan pine needles.
“This looks like a good spot. I want two men on the left side, everybody else lined up on the right. Spread out so you can cover a hundred yards. Henderson, you’re on the left near me. Remember, this is a crossfire situation, so make sure no one from our team is in your line of fire. Settle in and make yourselves invisible. It’s going to be a long wait.”
Chapter 59
Andrews watched helplessly as three of America’s most modern aircraft carriers were towed into the Atlantic Ocean.
“As you can see, President Abbott’s order to destroy the machines of war is being carried out,” reporter Jan Abernathy said. “We are one hundred miles off the eastern shore of the United States. The water here approaches eight thousand feet in depth. President Abbott wanted to guarantee that these ships could never be recovered. This is the moment we have been waiting for.”
She turned to the ships. White water sprayed into the air from the middle of each ship as the explosive charges detonated below the waterline.
“This is the end of an era,” she said, as she turned to face the camera. “No longer will the world be held captive by war and military attacks. Never again will one country invade another bringing violence and death to the people of our world.”
She turned to see the ships slip beneath the surface of the water, never to be seen again. She smiled as she turned back to the camera.
“I, for one, am overjoyed with President Leland Abbott. Finally someone has had the courage to put an end to war in our world.” She glanced to where the ships had been. “Yes,” she said. “Our world: A world that for once cares about the lives of common people and ordinary families. A world that cares enough to put an end to thousands of years of armed conflict. A world blessed with strong leaders like President Leland Abbott of the United States, President Pavel Kuznetsov of Russia, and President Li Wei Zhang of China. These are visionary leaders who are willing to trust each other and work together to finally bring peace to the world.”
Andrews shook his head and walked out of the room.
* * *
“Come on, people, we’re running out of time!”
Yuri Pasternov pushed up the deadline for leaving the underground base in the Yablonovy Range of Russia. The new president, Pavel Kuznetsov, had learned the location of the Russian Space Command base and was mounting an attack. So far, the large particle beam cannons had only needed to fire a few warning shots at the Russian fighter jets and bombers to keep them away. The problem was the large particle beam cannons could not target something on the ground. It was only a matter of hours before Russian tanks and missile launchers were in range to support a ground attack.
Admiral Petrov approached. “We can use the superior technology at our disposal to defeat the new administration and take back control of our country.”
Pasternov turned to him. “At the cost of how many lives?”
Petrov shrugged. “It could be done. How many generals did you have executed to prevent a coup against you just three months ago?”
Pasternov was irritated at the reminder. “It was a matter of self-defense.”
“And this isn’t?” Petrov replied. “What makes you think taking our Space Command forces to America is going to change anything? They, too, are going to be under attack from their own military.”
Pasternov shook his head. “With the public support Kuznetsov has with his end all war movement, all we would do is inflame an already impassioned populace. I’m not going to put myself in a position where I am waging war against my own people.”
Petrov raised his eyebrows and grunted. “I just don’t see how it changes the final outcome.”
In the last twenty-four hours, Pasternov had made the hardest decisions of his career. Hundreds of technicians were sent to hidden caves with the hope they would not be discovered. The only means of escape were the antigravity fighter craft, with enough room for only two people per craft. Captain Lieutenant Nikolaev stood by his fighter waiting. All of the electronic equipment had been destroyed, and what little paperwork remained was quickly turning to ashes in the bonfire outside of the underground base. Pasternov turned to the waiting members of the Russian Space Command and pointed to the sky. It was time to leave.
Pasternov climbed into the seat behind Nikolaev and strapped in. His mind wandered back to his first ride in one of these antigravity fighters with the pretty American pilot. Zadanski, he thought. It would be nice to see her again.
They took to the air, streaking west-northwest, passing to the north of Moscow. He wanted to see what remained of St. Petersburg.
“You are certain no American missiles got through?”
“None of t
hem, sir,” Nikolaev replied. “The Americans, the Chinese, and the ships from Tau Ceti all fought together with us. Twelve hundred fifty-eight cruise missiles were launched, tracked, and shot down. We have twelve hundred fifty-eight confirmed crash sites, sir.”
Pasternov pressed his lips together and nodded to himself.
His first glimpse of St. Petersburg was the smoke still rising into the air.
“I want a closer look.”
Nikolaev and his wingman slowed and dipped in closer to the ground.
The center of the city was nothing but flat, blackened earth west to the shallow harbor on the Baltic Sea. A ring of darkened rubble surrounded the bare center and extended for five miles north, east, and south. Buildings near the outer edge suffered various degrees of damage. Partial walls stood here and there, but within the vast blast circle the rubble looked to be no more than three feet in height. Fires had spread outward for miles from there. Some had been extinguished, but most were still slowly spreading. A ring of partially damaged buildings extended for another three miles. Some of the northern and southern suburbs remained generally intact.
Pasternov closed his eyes for a moment, wondering how many people who survived the initial blast would die from the radiation over the next week or two. The estimated death toll was well over five million people and expected to exceed six million before a final count could be determined.
The Neva River was black and clogged with debris. The Winter Palace where he had stayed just last year was gone, as was Saint Isaac’s Cathedral, and the Hermitage Museum. His mind wandered again to the paintings and Russian art that no one would ever see again.
“We’re being targeted by missile radar units, sir,” Nikolaev said.
“Very well,” Pasternov said, “get us out of here.”
Nikolaev and his wingman streaked into the sky and rejoined the rest of the Russian Space Command.
