Sure enough, the first car looks very much like one of the alien power units, and though the train’s wheels are turning, the zoomed in view shows that the tracks do not flex as the wheel’s pass.
The surprised man stands up, utterly astonished, “The carriages all have thick metallic plates under them, and look there!” He points at the screen, right where a faint shimmering is evident. Looking around, his outburst over, he stares at the stoic expressions of the others. He coughs lightly, regains his composure, then sits back down without saying another word.
Key elements are highlighted throughout the presentation as freight trains, enormous ships, and even one massive aircraft, are all displayed. Whereas the supertanker, Seawise Giant II, displayed the alien technology openly, all of the Chinese vehicles shown have one common denominator. They have all been painstakingly constructed or refitted to appear normal. The ramifications of this quickly hit home to some, for others it takes a while.
The Prime Minister stands, then breaks the stony silence, “Lights!” Once the room has returned to normal, he puts his hands back in his vest’s pockets, then begins to explain his dilemma. “So, who are the Chinese hiding their implementations of the alien technology from? Better yet, why are the hiding their technological advances?”
A well-dressed man, his face locked in a perpetual scowl, stands. He clasps the lapels on his suit jacket as he waits for a sign to speak. Receiving a nod, he gazes at his colleagues for a few moments before asking the first of many pertinent questions. “Do we have any idea how much of the Chinese transport infrastructure has been augmented?”
The Prime Minister slowly shakes his head from side to side, Jerry, Jerry, why is it always you? His thoughts trail as he responds curtly, “That information is unavailable to us at this time.”
Unperturbed, Jerry continues, “Have the Chinese shared this advanced technology with any other nations, apart from the Arab Emirates, that is?”
With a sigh, the Prime Minister lowers his head. “It would seem the French have been building a replacement aircraft carrier. One that looks ordinary from the outside, yet it’s rumored to have gravity lift plating.”
“So,” Jerry’s eyes drift around the room, catching the undivided attention of his colleagues. “We now know that the Chinese are far ahead of us in not only the research of the alien data technology, but also in its implementation.”
Jerry pauses while he gazes around the room yet again, and then continues, “I suggest we not only continue to assist the Russians, Americans, and the Australians, I feel that we should provide them all with everything we can. We must not fall farther behind.”
The Prime Minister stares silently as the ramifications of Jerry’s suggestion roll around in his mind. It would keep any would-be threats away from us, while at the same time we would gain the benefits from any discoveries. “I agree, we should help the coalition in any fashion we can. Our assistance to date has been rather lackluster, and must be improved.”
A short plump man suddenly jumps to his feet and almost shouts, “Lackluster!” His tone is full of disgust and annoyance, “What of the medical facility we built? That useless thing,” he spits the words, “has done nothing for us!”
The Prime Minister puts a hand to his head, a nagging thought suddenly springs to mind along with an ensuing headache, what of the Chinese military? Bringing his attention back to the room, he takes a deep breath then delivers his thoughts. “The medical facility is an expensive burden, and for now does very little.” He pauses, gathers his thoughts, and then continues, “It is time we made a more obvious contribution.”
The Prime Minister stands and says with finality, “I will contact our allies and see what they need.” He looks around the room before adding, “Then we shall reconvene.”
The meeting soon disintegrates as members file out. The Prime Minister sits back down, his head throbs, causing him to shut his eyes.
Jerry takes one last look at their leader and shakes his head, I would not want his job right now, he thinks, and then leaves.
Location:
White House
Washington DC
The President stares at his various advisors with disappointed eyes. Pacing around the Oval Office, he shakes his head. “How is it that I have to find out from the Russians that China is capable of destroying Space Station Unity?” Stopping, he glares at the small group that represents the Central Intelligence Agency, “Even as we continue its construction, China has weapons trained on it.”
General Walker motions to speak, then at the President’s nod, offers his thoughts. “China may well be able to destroy the space station, but at what cost? We could easily destroy their own facilities,” he fumbles through some notes, and adds, “in the Kangbashi District.”
A well-dressed man stands, shakes his head, and says, “If we posture for war, then that is what we shall get. Instead, we should be upgrading our infrastructure. With the production of gravity plating exceeding demand, we should start replacing the merchant shipping fleets.”
“Posture for war!”, Walker almost shouts the words, “The Chinese President tours this Kangbashi district, then immediately moves troops to their borders, redistributes air assets, and puts their only carrier task force to sea.” Walker shakes his head in contempt, “And the Russian response! They too have mobilized their forces, as have India, Japan, and a dozen other nations.”
Another well-dressed man quickly interjects, ignoring Walker’s outburst completely. He remains seated as he offers his thoughts, his voice calm, “We all know of your desire for, what did you call them, gravity ships and gravity trains?” He shakes his head in mockery, and chuckles, clearly unimpressed.
The standing man indignantly stares back, “If we update the civilian transport systems, our economy would benefit greatly. At the same time, we would be reducing our dependence on fossil fuels.”
General Walker stares at the two men in dismay, “Didn’t you two hear me? Countries are preparing for war, and all you can talk about is civilian transports!”
The standing man leans forward and rests his hands on the table as he responds, “Other nations are already using these new technologies. Our ocean-going tankers travel at fifteen knots or so, while these gravity ships travel at ten times this speed, if not more. They use a mere handful of ships, as opposed to fleets that are at risk of attack from pirates, or at the mercy of the ocean’s unpredictable weather.”
The President stands, lifts his hand, and says, “Gentlemen, let’s be rational here. The Chinese clearly have something new, or they would not be acting so bold. Perhaps their research into the alien’s database has provided them some new technology?” He glances around, waiting for his advisors to comment.
General Walker speaks up again, “I agree, the alien technologies have changed everything.” He motions to the two suit wearing men, “Shipping as we know it, is as obsolete as the horse and cart.” He pauses for a moment, then adds with derision, “And that goes for our naval fleet as well, it’s too damn slow, and thus vulnerable.”
The President puts a hand to his chin as he ponders General Walker’s appraisal of their fleet. Once the most powerful navy in the world, it has been made virtually obsolete overnight.
Looking over at the General, the President nods wistfully. With a concern filled voice, he addresses the room, “We must find out what’s going on in that Chinese city. On another note, I did receive an interesting proposal from the British.” He smiles calmly while his eyes wander over those present, “The British government has offered additional support, and we shall accept their help.”
The talks continue on, though they invariably fall back to the situation in California, where the repercussions of the disaster are still being felt. General Walker sits by as the politicians around him fail to see the mounting threat.
Location:
Outback
Western Australia
General Walker steps from his new shuttle, the hot dry air, thoug
h discomforting, has become familiar to him. With his jacket resting over his arm, he gazes at the distant construction dock and sighs. Damn, I have no idea how Hayes managed to get done what he did, and he had even less to work with than I do! He gazes outward to the distant walls and smiles. Even though he is unable to see the numerous machine gun nests with their contingents of anti-air rockets, he feels safe knowing they are out there, encircling the entire facility. Turning back to look at the shuttle he thinks, the Russians have been churning these out for a few months now, amazing. Around the world in an hour, instead of a day.
With a deep breath, he swings his gaze toward the colony ship that is still under construction. With even more help from the Brits, we may just be able to get this beast finished sooner than later. Additional engineers, more buildings, and an entire production assembly line dedicated to manufacturing gravity plating, will speed things up. He smiles at the positive elements from the briefing in Washington.
Walker’s smile slowly turns into a frown at the sight of a jeep speedily heading his way. Its rapidly spinning tires kick up clouds of dust, while its engine roars loudly. The driver locks all four wheels as the vehicle slides to a stop near the bottom of the steps. Dust flings into the air, creating a haze while it settles.
Walker is about to abase the driver, until he spots the white laboratory coat, now covered in dust. The man runs toward the general, his doctor’s tags flapping against his chest.
The doctor slows, then between gasps begins, “We have a serious problem General,” his chest rises and falls as he tries to get his breath, “The Gamin suits,” he looks back over his shoulders at another jeep heading toward them. The doctor turns back with fear in his eyes, “The suits cause a psychotropic effect on the operators, but worse, they increase synaptic activity.”
Walker takes a deep breath, glances at the doctor’s name tag, then responds calmly, “Okay, Doctor Nelson, and this does what, exactly?”
“The operators are getting smarter!” The doctor’s eyes are quite wide.
“I fail to see how this would cause you to drive like a madman!” Walker retorts.
Nelson stares wildly around, “One of the suit operators won’t surrender his suit. He has locked himself in one of the maintenance buildings.”
A second Jeep pulls up, much more casually than the first. Its driver, an American soldier steps out, salutes, and waits for the General to speak.
General Walker stares at the soldier, sighs, then says with a little annoyance, “Okay, out with it.”
The soldier quickly replies, “We have a situation, Sir!”
Walker almost rolls his eyes, really, and what was my first clue? “Well, what is it then?” His reply is actually calmer than even he expected it to be.
The soldier responds, his voice composed, “One of the suit operators has locked himself in a maintenance shed, and is not only refusing to surrender the alien bodysuit, he is making something.”
Walker eyebrows lift at this, “Something?” He asks.
The soldier hesitates for a moment, then continues, “We have no idea what he is doing. We are locked out, but based on the noise level, he is very busy.”
Walker sighs, “Okay, take me to this man. What’s his name?”
The soldier turns to the doctor, who stammers, “Bill, his name is Bill.”
The General nods, then jumps into the passenger seat of the soldier’s Jeep. Doctor Nelson follows at a discrete distance. The two jeeps make quick time across the dusty landscape.
Within minutes, the three men are standing outside a large workshop. No less than fifteen heavily armed soldiers surround the building. Loud bangs and clangs emanate from inside.
Walker steps to the door, finding it locked, he raps on it. With a firm and authoritative voice, he shouts over the din. “This is General Walker! I am unarmed, and wish to come inside to discuss this issue.”
The nearby soldiers turn and stare at the General in surprise. The various noises cease coming from inside, then a voice calls out. “Are you alone?”
Walker glances at the many soldiers, then motions for them to back away. “I am sending the soldiers away, I just want to come inside and talk.”
The sound of heavy objects being dragged can be heard, then the door opens. Walker stares at the sight before him, then putting any fears away, boldly strides inside. The Gamin bodysuit before him is quite impressive. The armor has an odd metallic color, while the darkened faceplate conceals the wearer’s face. Walker says nothing as the armor-clad person closes the door then moves a number of heavy barrels, effectively blocking it.
Walker waits, his experienced eyes rove the room cataloging everything he sees. He casually moves toward a nearby table, then rests up against it. The suit’s helmet nervously swings his way from time to time. Finally, the man is satisfied with his efforts at securing the entrance once more. He strides purposefully toward Walker, then stops a couple of paces away. His visor goes opaque, then lifts up out of the way, revealing an unshaved and sweaty face.
The General recognizes the man’s face from his dossier as one of the suit operators, and is grateful to have been told his name. With a calm voice, he interrupts the silence. “Bill, tell me what’s going on here?”
Bill is surprised that the General knows his name, and replies hesitantly, “They want me to hand over the suit. I will never get it back,” he adds fearfully.
“Who said you would never get to use it again?” Walker delivers the question in a well-practiced tone.
Bill responds automatically, “My contract is up, and it’s not being renewed.”
The General weights his options, then answers carefully. “I can look into your contract, but I won’t lie to you and give you false guarantees.”
Bill looks at the General in surprise, he was expecting empty promises and lies, not this.
Walker continues, his tone one of understanding. “What you’re doing now,” Walker gazes around the room as he continues, “is not helping you though. We’ve all done something stupid in our day. It’s time to stop scaring those people out there,” he nods in the direction of the blocked door. “Come on son, let’s go. I give you my personal assurances, you will not be taken off this base until you’re ready to leave.”
The two men stare at each other, Bill’s unsure and frightened eyes find strength in Walker’s. Sweat drips down Bill’s face as he begins to realize his situation is indeed dire. Walker’s honesty is a well-known trademark, as is his determination in getting his way.
The silence is broken again, this time by Bill opening his suit. He steps out from it and states with his own conviction. “Okay, everyone says you’re a fair man, and a hero as well. I heard that you went against orders during the meteor shower. Saved a lot of people too.”
Walker’s eyebrows raise at the comments, I forgot about that, NORAD seems so long ago. He places a supportive hand on Bill’s shoulder, “I will come with you, while the doctors run their tests.”
Stepping outside, Walker is relieved to see that there are no soldiers in the immediate vicinity, don’t want to set this man off, he’s wound up like an eight-day clock. The two men walk to the medical facility in silence. Once there, Walker waits and watches as a whole slew of doctors and nurses run a battery of tests. He looks down at his feet and smiles, almost sixty doctors, three hundred isolation units, along with many more rooms, are right beneath my feet, and yet from the surface, this building looks to be no more than a standard medical facility. I have to hand it to the Brits, they know how to build.
Doctor Nelson wanders over to Walker, tosses a casual glance at Bill, then says, “I am surprised you got him here in one piece.”
Walker frowns as he questions, “What did you think I was going to do? Go in guns blazing?” He shakes his head and sighs, that’s how the military is so often viewed. He nods toward Bill and adds, “The objective was to get this man to you for tests without damaging the bodysuit.”
Nelson steps back, suitably abash
ed, “Sorry. I really had no idea what you would do.”
Walker smiles at the doctor’s back as the man retreats, and returns to his task. Catching Bill’s eye, he gives the man a supportive nod, and leaves the room.
The two soldiers standing outside the room salute the General as he passes. Pausing, Walker looks back at the closed doorway, then turns to the soldiers and orders, “Give Bill free reign, he’s only restricted from using those bodysuits at this time.”
The soldiers dare a quick glance at each other before one responds. “Sir, yes, Sir.”
Walker relaxes his stance for a moment, and nods his head toward the closed door, “Just keep him away from those suits until we know what’s going on.”
Walker retires to his office, what a first day back, he muses. Looking at the piles of paperwork he shakes his head, then sits in his large comfortable chair and begins reading.
Meanwhile, the doctors run their tests, then spend the night reviewing their data. Finally, as the dawn’s early rays strike out across the desert, their report is ready.
General Walker wakes up startled and confused, papers lay scattered all over the floor. He licks his dry lips, gets his bearings, and then stretches in his chair, I’m getting too old for this, he thinks. Picking up the fallen papers, he rubs the stubble on his chin, and heads out to his quarters.
As soon as he steps outside, he spots the same doctor from yesterday, hurrying toward him. That man looks like I feel, he muses.
“General... General we have to talk,” Nelson’s tone is full of concern.
The General gazes at the distant sunrise, sighs, and then says, “Okay, my office.”
Doctor Nelson fidgets on his feet as he waits. Having followed Walker to his office, he had expected to speak to him straight away. But instead the General walked out, leaving him alone in the room. The minutes drag, then the smell of coffee comes wafting his way. The General returns with two steaming cups, hands one to Nelson, then sits in his chair with the other.
Initiation Series: Series One Compilation (Terran Chronicles) Page 72
