Island of Power

by Dean Wesley Smith

  No one seemed to have the slightest idea what had happened. He’d been teaching back at Georgetown University when everything went to hell. He spent two wild days trying to get away from the entire East Coast, along with hundreds of thousands of others, as panic overtook them. He had been convinced that Washington, D.C., was going to be bombed. Instead it was Seattle and Detroit that were hit.

  After a few short weeks, he simply did what most everyone else did and went back to work. Over the next half year the Union tried to convince him that his mind would help the cause. They offered him a research position, and eventually he’d accepted. Now, almost six years later, most of the country had settled down, and life went on without a sun in the sky and stars at night. It amazed him how adaptive the human animal truly was.

  Now he stood there, on the Oregon coast, about to board a transport to an unknown island that he’d actually seen appear in a freak lightning storm. How had he gotten so brave in just six years?

  Behind him the voice of Dr. Bogle told him that the other four scientists were coming out of the tunnel to join them. Each wore coats like he and Stephanie, and each had a small pack over one shoulder. Nothing else. Everything else would be supplied.

  Hank glanced back at the transport just as Sergeant Malone motioned with an abrupt wave for them to come aboard. The woman certainly didn’t waste words. She was dressed in full Kevlon armor, right down to the helmet. In one hand she held a Bulldog support rifle as if it belonged there. Hank didn’t think she was someone he would ever want to cross.

  “That has to be a hot suit,” Hank said, letting his parka flap open as they all climbed past her and inside the transport.

  Malone said nothing, seemed not even to hear his comment. It wasn’t any warmer inside, but it wasn’t cooler either. And inside there was no ocean breeze.

  “These transports are bigger than they look,” Stanton said, glancing around the interior.

  “Antigravity,” Lee said. “Carries more.”

  Hank knew the Hydra transport used the new antigravity hover technology, but it was the first time he’d ever been in one. He’d done some work on a project that was trying to combine antitgravity with laser-power drives, but he’d been reassigned to another project early on and lost track of how the first one had turned out. Despite that, he had no doubt that laser-powered antigravity ships would soon be a reality.

  The section of the Hydra they were in was obviously used for troop transport and nothing else, and there was no way to see the pilots from there. The hold was filled with rows of benchlike seats and smelled of grease and sweat. But Stanton was right—it did seem bigger inside than it looked outside. And there was no sign at all of the equipment and supplies that had been loaded just a few minutes earlier.

  Eight Union troopers were already buckled in along one side, all of them in full gear, all with rifles standing beside them. Not one of the soldiers looked up as the scientists boarded. Hank thought maybe they were angry at being assigned to baby-sit a bunch of civilian scientists.

  Sergeant Malone motioned to the row of seats opposite the combat squad. “Packs under the seats,” she ordered.

  Hank did as he was told, going to the end of the row and stowing his pack in the space under his seat. Then he buckled himself in, using both shoulder straps and lap belt. Sitting next to him, Stephanie did the same. A moment later Malone came over and checked them all, then went to take a seat at the head of her men.

  “Ready,” she said into her mouthpiece as she buckled her belts.

  The door instantly slid shut with a sharp bang that startled Hank. The sound had a finality to it that he didn’t like.

  “You know,” Stanton said, “I went to college purely to escape these kinds of things.”

  “Little did you know,” Lee said, laughing.

  Hank couldn’t have agreed with Stanton more. He’d always been content to serve the Union cause with his mind, his inventions, his research, but this field duty seemed just a little out of line. He could have refused to accept the mission, but that just didn’t seem like an option the way Major Lancaster had laid out the situation. It still seemed odd to be sending civilian scientists into the place first. Maybe Lancaster hadn’t told them everything he knew because of security considerations.

  The entire transport rumbled slightly and lifted off. Hank could feel the motion but no sense of acceleration. It was more a heaviness that told him they were moving even without the roaring sounds of engines. He thought to himself that this was a perfect transport vehicle for getting troops in and out of an area fairly silently.

  Stephanie reached over and rested her hand on his, not so much out of fear, but for comfort. He had to admit he felt better with her close. And worried about her at the same time. There was just no telling what they were getting themselves into, and he wouldn’t want anything ever to happen to her.

  “It would be nice to see where we’re going,” Stanton said.

  Bogle laughed. “Yeah, let’s see this alien city.”

  Sergeant Malone reached up to a panel beside her seat and keyed in a few numbers. In response, a large, flat screen unrolled from the center of the roof. A moment later they could see the rolling waves below and ahead. It looked as if they were skimming just forty meters off the water, and moving fast.

  “Thank you,” Stanton said, but Malone gave no sign of acknowledgment.

  Hank could tell that her squad was all business, too. He hoped it was only because they were taking every precaution, and not because they were expecting a fight.

  For the next three minutes the waves below flashed past on the viewer. The color of the ocean seemed to have a richness about it today in the Maw’s light. The blue seemed even deeper and the swells larger than normal.

  Then Hank could see the large shape coming up on the horizon.

  An island where there had been no island before this morning.

  An impossible place jutting out of the ocean.

  They all watched in silence, the transport vibrating only slightly around them as the island grew on the screen until they could make out the details.

  Buildings.

  Thousands of buildings,

  And all very strange-shaped. There really was an alien city coming up in front of them.

  “I’ll be go to hell,” Bogle said, softly.

  “Trust me, folks,” Stanton said. “That’s an alien city out there.”

  “How would you know that?” Hank asked, not lifting his gaze from the viewscreen as the island and buildings grew in front of them. He was stunned at how beautiful the place was. From a distance the city seemed to be reaching for the sky.

  Massive structures, higher than any tall building in New York, jutted into the air, many ending in seemingly sharp points. They seemed to be linked together at different levels by hundreds of sky bridges. It looked as if they were built entirely of something white and polished. Some of the taller buildings reflected the light from the Maw.

  “Amazing,” Stephanie said, her voice as awed as Hank was feeling. “Who built this?”

  “That’s what we’re here to find out,” Stanton said, sounding grim.

  “Let’s just hope they’re not home,” Edaro said.

  That thought made Hank shudder.

  The buildings looked shorter, more compact, closer to the water’s edge. But Hank still couldn’t tell exactly what scale he was looking at. What he thought was a low building still might be twenty stories tall when compared to the monster structures that reached up from the center of the island.

  “Can we make a pass around it?” Hank asked.

  “Please,” Stanton said, agreeing.

  Malone spoke into her mouthpiece softly, then nodded to Hank. “One revolution. The onboard cameras will photograph the island’s entire coastline as we pass, feed it into the data received from orbit, and produce some basic maps for us to use.”

  “We’ll need them,” Stanton said.

  Hank kept his attention focused on the ima
ges on the screen. The closer they got to the shore, the clearer one fact became. At first his mind tried to deny it, tried to keep the first image of beautiful towers reaching for the stars. But reality took over.

  This city was alien.

  And it was a ruin.

  Many of the center buildings had once been taller; their perfectly smooth surfaces were ripped and jagged at the top. Others had somehow retained their pointed peaks. From the looks of the gaping holes in the smooth sides of many taller structures, there once had been hundreds more sky bridges linking them.

  Hank guessed the canyons between the structures would be a mess, probably so ruined and full of rubble as to be impassable.

  Between the lower buildings were smooth surfaces resembling streets, at least near the water’s edge. From the transport’s low angle skimming around the city, Hank couldn’t see anything between the massive structures that filled the center. But if he had to bet, he would wager there were many, many levels under ground level in there.

  Around the edge of the island he saw that there were buildings underwater as waves broke against and over many of them. The current shoreline wasn’t the normal edge of this city. At one time it had been much wider and longer. They were only seeing what was left above the surface of the ocean.

  “Hard to imagine this just transported here,” Stephanie said. “What power could do that?”

  “What power could snap the Earth into this weird space they call the Maelstrom?” Bogle asked.

  Stephanie only nodded. But Hank could see what she had been driving at. Something, with a vast amount of power, had caused this city to appear here. Was it just random Maelstrom craziness or something more? That was a very important question to which he doubted they were going to find an answer in a day.

  He tried to study some of the shorter structures near the edge of the water as the transport banked and began its circle. But it was the tall buildings crowding the center of the island that kept drawing his attention back.

  In its day, the city must have been a glorious place, its shining surfaces caught and reflected by the light from an alien sun. What would it have been like to walk along one of its sky bridges with the teeming city below? Or stand in the canyons between them and just look up?

  What kind of creatures had built this place?

  What was it like when they’d walked those streets and lived in those buildings?

  And what had happened to the beings that had lived here?

  Suddenly he flashed on the image of New York City looking abandoned and ruined at some distant time in the future. And the thought made him shudder. At one time this island city had been home to unknown beings. More than likely, millions of them, from the size of it.

  “The place looks like it was bombed,” Edaro said.

  “Or saw some serious fighting,” Lee said. “Look at all the holes in those big buildings.”

  Hank glanced at Stanton, but couldn’t read the odd look in his eyes. Stephanie, meanwhile, also sat staring, almost hypnotized.

  The beings that could build such a beautiful city were obviously far ahead of humans in technology. And yet they had lost this city to something vast and destructive.

  And very unknown.

  5

  * * *

  Time: 9:52 A . M . Pacific Time

  8 hours, 21 minutes after Arrival

  E veryone inside the Hydra remained silent as it finished circling the ruined island city. Stephanie doubted she could have uttered a word even if she’d wanted to. The images of those exquisite towering structures, combined with the signs of violent destruction all around them, left her stunned. Her heart pounded with a mix of fear and excitement.

  Part of her couldn’t wait for the Hydra to land so they could investigate, find out who had built such a phenomenally beautiful place, but another part of her wanted to head back to the mainland right away.

  Finally, the Hydra finished its circuit of the island and banked hard to the left, heading toward what looked like an open area near the shore, maybe the end of a street. Stephanie noticed that unlike old-style planes, the Hydra’s banking and other maneuvers weren’t so much felt by its passengers as seen on the screen.

  From where they were now, the elongated shape of the island was clear. The tallest buildings were in the center, with the smaller ones tapering off in all four directions. They were heading toward a spot about halfway up its coastline, where the island looked widest. It was the closest landing site to the larger buildings.

  The transport stopped and hovered just offshore in the direction of the mainland, only twenty or so meters above the rolling waves. Across from Stephanie, Malone’s squad members did a quick weapons check, initiated by a hand signal from the sergeant. They looked ready for anything.

  Malone unbuckled her belts and went over to a panel near where Kelly Bogle sat. She slid the panel aside and pulled out a Union military jacket and tossed it at Bogle. “Put this on and keep it on at all times.”

  “Why?” Bogle asked, holding up the jacket to look at it.

  “Kevlon-lined,” Malone said. “Might save your life.”

  Bogle stared at her for an instant, then nodded and unbuckled his belts as one by one Malone tossed each of them a jacket.

  Stephanie held hers up. Surprisingly light for something that could stop bullets, it was belted and had a dozen pockets. She quickly slipped out of her safety belts, pulled off her parka, and slipped into the Kevlon jacket, pulling it tight around her stomach with the belt.

  Actually it was fairly comfortable. But she didn’t like the idea that Malone thought they needed them. She sat back down, using her parka as padding.

  Malone watched until they were all in their jackets, then asked, “Has anyone here ever fired a Pitbull assault rifle?” She pulled one out of a cabinet and held it up with one hand for all six civilians to see.

  It was smaller than the rifles a couple of the Union troopers carried. Those were called Bulldogs, if Stephanie remembered right. The rest carried rifles just like the one the sergeant held up.

  Stephanie kept her hand down since the only weapon she’d ever fired had been her uncle’s deer rifle during her vacation in Colorado. But Hank, Bogle, Lee, and Edaro all raised their hands.

  “Good,” Malone said, handing Bogle the rifle she’d been holding. Then she handed one to each of the other men. “Ammunition is there.” She pointed to another panel. “Take as much as you can comfortably carry with your other supplies. Keep the rifle and ammunition on you at all times.”

  The men nodded.

  Stephanie watched as Hank expertly inspected his Pitbull. He had obviously handled one before, more than likely in his work developing laser rifles.

  Then Sergeant Malone reached into the panel from which she’d gotten the rifles and pulled out two medium-sized pistols. “This is called a Pug,” she said. She handed one to Stanton, then walked over and gave the other one to Stephanie.

  Stephanie stared at the gun, feeling the metal ominously cold in her hand. The implications of their all needing guns and vests hadn’t completely hit her until then. Even with the protection of a squad of soldiers, civilians had to be ready to defend themselves against something. She didn’t want to ask what Sergeant Malone thought that “something” might be.

  “You ever fired a pistol, Dr. Peters?”

  Stephanie glanced up at her. “I have,” she said, remembering back to a few hours on a target range. She might not be able to hit anything with it, but she could fire it.

  “Good,” Malone said. “Ammunition in here for those.” She patted a different panel.

  Then she looked at the men with the rifles. “Any of the rest of you want a pistol, too?”

  Bogle and Lee held up their hands, and the sergeant gave them each one. Stephanie checked to make sure her Pug wasn’t yet loaded, then put it in one of her jacket pockets. She could feel its weight resting against her leg like a bad omen.

  The soldiers sat across from them, their faces n
eutral as they watched the view of the shoreline on the screen. They, too, were mute reminders of the real danger out there.

  “Okay, Doctors,’’ Malone said, stepping back to the head of the seating. “Here’s what I want you to do. Get your packs on, tuck your extra coats into the belts on the Kevlon jackets, and get your ammunition. Do it now.”

  Stephanie stood, feeling unreal, as if this were a dream.

  Beside her Hank worked quickly and efficiently, getting rifle ammunition.

  She stuffed her rain slicker into her pack with some extra socks and tee shirts. The small pack went on over the Kevlon jacket, and she made sure it was pulled snug.

  Then she used the sleeves of her ski parka to tie it around her waist, tucking the sleeves under the jacket belt to make sure it wouldn’t come loose. She was just going to have to carry her medical bag. No other way.

  Hank passed her some clips for the pistol. She took ten before the coat started to feel too heavy, then refused any more. If things got to the point where she had to fire that many rounds, Stephanie figured she’d be in such big trouble that having more ammunition would be a moot point.

  When they were all ready, Malone said, “Buckle back up, we’re going in. When we land my men will secure the area. After I give the all clear, and only then, you will exit the transport. Is that clear?”

  “Very,” Stanton said.

  Stephanie nodded. She was glad Malone was being extra cautious, but this entire scenario was scaring her down to her toes. And she’d already been scared enough just at the idea of going into a ruined alien city.

  “Good,” the sergeant replied.

  Stephanie sat down, the pack holding her away from the wall, the weight of the gun and ammunition heavy in her pockets. She managed to get the lap belt buckled as the transport dropped toward what looked to be an open street. The lower end of the street disappeared under the waves, and buildings lined the other two sides. It was the largest open area Stephanie had noticed in their short fly-around. This city was one compact place.