4. Jeff has studied the weather patterns that the Collectors normally go to and has made a list of potential targets located all around the free world. Other countries with nuclear capabilities have done the same.
5. Captain Stewart has contacted the best-hidden air bases closest to the potential targets. These bases and the strategic nuclear storage depots will coordinate the best and fastest way to load our helicopters.
6. The warheads are currently being modified to effect timers to detonate the nuclear bombs three days after they’re dropped.
7. While the timers are being put on, so are parachutes that will automatically open as soon as they’re dropped from the helicopters.
8. With only five days left, we will begin dropping the first at exactly 1400 hours Eastern Standard Time, that’s today! The plan is to continue locating Collectors and dropping the nuclear bombs continuously for three days.
9. Captain Stewart will coordinate any fighter protection necessary as the helicopters are on their missions.
10. The President and world leaders have all been informed. We’re not sure if the other nuclear powers will be much help. They say they have the equipment and know-how, but are still somewhat skeptical of our plan.
“Captain Stewart will set up another display screen so we can keep track of the warheads confirmed attached to the Collectors. This way we’ll be able to monitor the number and tonnage of the successful attachments.
“Does anyone have any questions?”
Woods said, “I’m a optimist, General, but what happens if this works and the bombs that we anticipate exploding the first day destroy Mother. Won’t all the bombs you place on the Collectors on the second and third day blow up over us? Even worse, what happens as soon as the first nuclear blast rocks Mother and she realizes what we’re doing and prevents the Collectors from returning to his ship? With all those warheads over Earth, don’t we run the risk of destroying ourselves?”
“You’re right, Woods,” the General said. “We’ll put altitude timers on the greeting cards. That way the warheads won’t arm until they reach a certain altitude when they start heading back to Mother from Earth.”
“But we don’t know how these Collectors work, General,” Jeff said. “I know they seek out and go into thunderstorms, but what happens if the thunderstorm itself dissipates? Do they fly back out of our atmosphere so they won’t be detected until locating another storm? Do they then fly back down into a new storm? If that happens, your bombs will be activated and Woods’ fears are again valid.”
The General thought a second, and said, “Okay, the only other choice is to put remote timers on the warheads and start detonating them seventy-two hours after attachment. We could monitor everything that happens after the first blast and shut the timers off if we have to.”
Jeff responded again, “General, I don’t know how advanced our technology is on sending radio signals to outer space, but I do know that Mother is supercharging our atmosphere. This means the possibility of a radio signal going through a collapsing atmosphere are zero to none. If unable to send the destroy-signal, we’re back at square one.”
The General looked up at the ceiling and let out a frustrating, “Shit, we don’t have anymore options! We have to take a chance on something!”
Woods replied, “Okay, okay. Listen… What if we turn to ON the remote timers that are set to detonate in seventy-two hours and send a signal to activate the warhead as soon as it attaches. Then seventy-one hours after dropping the first nuclear lunch box, we start sending weak radio signals out toward our upper atmosphere that will disarm any Collector near Earth. This gives us a minimum of three days to let the Collectors take their payloads home to Mamma.”
Everyone looked at one another and shook their heads in approval. The General made a quick phone call and the change was put in place. The warheads would have remote timers, activated as soon as attached. Three days later continuous signals would be sent out that would disarm any bombs on Collectors close to Earth.
When he got off the phone, the General looked at CIA Director and said, “Michael, if Jeff is correct about the signal getting through, will your satellites still be able to send us pictures of what’s happening up there?”
Michael replied, “I’m not sure, but if radio signals can’t punch through the atmosphere, I doubt it.”
“Well keep the pictures of Mother on the monitors as long as possible,” the General said. “I’ll make sure our spotters outside will be watching every second after we get confirmation the first warhead is attached on the first Collector. I know the bombs are set to go off in seventy-two hours but, there’s no telling what might happen when the first Collectors arrive back to Mother. If we do lose the pictures, we can at least go up and watch what happens visually.”
Janet was listing to everything being said and finally said, “General, I think you should arrange a news conference and let the American people know what’s happening. I’m sure they are just as aware of Mother’s light ray as are we. Those that live around our military bases must be scared to death seeing these targets just vaporize in front of them. As word spreads, people are going to panic and looters will be out in mobs. You need to do something to put them at ease.”
The General wasted no time in saying, “I don’t mean to be rude but do you remember last time we had a news conference? We were lucky to get out alive. Besides, I can’t make a public announcement and risk E-1 listening in on our plans. All our communication has been sent out through the best-encrypted security lines we have. I think so far they’re doing the job, otherwise E-1’s light ray would be firing at us. Going public might be sealing the death of mankind. It’s a chance I won’t take or authorize.”
Janet realized he was right and said, “No, sir, you’re right, but I hate to see what civilization will be doing the next three days while we wait and see if this plan works.”
The General responded, “Janet I know you’re trained to help your fellow man in times of catastrophe, and knowing what is happening and not being able to do anything about it must hurt a lot. But from the beginning, Man has fought with his fellow man. We have this urge to kill one another for thousands of reasons. Every day, somewhere around the world there is a small war going on. We even had two wars so big they called them World Wars, and smaller wars like the Korean and Vietnam conflicts. We riot and kill when the slightest things go wrong. Well, mankind is getting a wake up call. This is not about land, color, religion or the thousands of other reasons we fight. This is about our civilization surviving to see another day. If people are rioting and looting and killing one another out there, they just don’t get it, so let them be. I think if we destroy E-1 we’ll be able to get back on our feet again no matter how bad it is out there. If the plan doesn’t work, we won’t have to worry about mankind. But, if we do survive, mankind has to unite as one, either before or after the looting. We now know there is life and other worlds out there. This new form of life is hostile, but others might be friendly. We are going to have to join together as one world and prepare for defending ourselves and finding allies out there in space. Fighting among ourselves will have to stop. And stop it will. Civilization will not tolerate it.”
Jeff put his arm around Janet and whispered, “He’s right and I know this plan is going to work. When it’s all over, this country will need your help. You’re an expert on rebuilding after disasters of all sorts and we’re going to have a mess on our hands, even if we survive.”
The digital clock on the wall in the conference room was in typical military hours, displaying 1400 hours, 2:00 p.m., EST. For the past few hours the speakerphone on the table squawked with reports on how the preparation for dropping nuclear bombs with special timers onto the big lumbering Collectors was going. Everything was ready and at 2:00 p.m. “Operation Drop” was under way.
“Air Blue Ten to Blue Base One, We have a confirmed target at Sector 2398. Please contact your nearest payload. I’ll stay and provide cover for the I-7 if n
ecessary.”
“Affirmative Air Blue Ten.”
After a quick check of the location, a call was placed to the nearest loaded helicopter in the area.
“Blue Base to Air Blue Ten, Light Air Six is loaded and now leaving. Estimated time of arrival is in five minutes. Please stay low, watch your radar for bogies, but try and maintain visual with target.”
“Affirmative Blue Base.”
“Air Blue Two to Blue Base One, I have visual at Sector 4652.”
“Air Blue Fifteen to Blue Base, I have a confirmed target at Sector 6247, big and ugly.”
“Air Blue Two by Two, I have a confirmed target at Sector 5157 and confirm with Blue Fifteen that it’s big and ugly.”
Captain Stewart was listening and walked over to the microphone and said, “Okay guys, let’s keep the chatter down and concentrate on the mission.”
“Sorry Sir”
Captain Stewart said, “I know you guys have the adrenaline flowing and it’s easy to get excited when you find targets, but that’s when you really have to concentrate. Unlike the slow moving Collectors, their fighters are fast and deadly.”
“Light Air Six to Blue Base, we are forty-five hundred feet over the target and hitting extremely severe weather. These thunderstorms aren’t making this job easy. I’m slowly descending to forty-two hundred, forty-four, forty-three, forty-two and holding—arming warhead and releasing payload.
“We have a confirmed seventy-two-hour timer set and can clearly see the bomb’s parachute is open.
“Confirm that the payload has been sucked into the Collector. We have planted the first birthday card, sir. Heading back to base to get another payload.”
“Air Blue Ten to Light Air Six. Nice work guys, I watched the whole thing and it was a perfect job. Let’s hope everyone else is as successful.”
“Blue Base One to Air Blue Ten and Light Air Six, congratulations to you both. You’ve just proven that this can be done safely and it will be the first of hopefully thousands. You didn’t pick up any bogies yet, so be extra careful heading home.”
“Captain, send out a report on the success of Air Blue Ten and Light Air Six to all our pilots and the rest of the world,” the General said. “We now know this mission can be done and I think such a report will calm our pilots and boost confidence.”
On one of the large display screens were the huge letters “NUMBER OF BOMBS SET” and underneath was a large “1.”
The General looked up and said, “If we don’t drop another bomb, at least Mother is going to get a high-energy breakfast.”
Woods was listening and when he heard what General Stormer said, he became uneasy. He thought for a second, then turned to Donemore, Jeff and Janet and said, “I just had a terrible thought. What if our nuclear bombs go off and they’re just absorbed by Mother and his alien invaders, much like the little neon guy happy as hell to be electrocuted with our cord plugged into the wall at the hospital? Remember we brought that alien pilot back to his normal neon glowing self by giving it energy. So, what if—”
Donemore said, “You can’t worry about that now, as we have no other plan. This is either going to work or we don’t have to worry about what’s next. Right?”
“Besides, Woods,” Janet said, “look at this way. Humans need food to eat but eat twenty pounds at one meal and you’re good as dead. Let’s hope E-1 over eats.”
Woods replied, “You’re right. It just flashed into my head and I got nervous.” He then looked up at the screen that still showed the CIA’s close up of the new moon. He was hoping for no static in the picture and got his wish. As long as the picture stayed clear, he felt good about the prospects of a maybe-win. He looked over at Jeff and said, “Does anyone at NASA know what we’ll see as the atmosphere supercharges and collapses? Will it be visible to the naked eye or just a silent killer?”
Jeff replied, “I asked that question, and no one seems to know.”
Donemore added, “Woods, stop all you’re worrying, okay. You’re going to make yourself sick and us nervous.”
Reports were coming in fast and furious to the control room. The General, Captain, and all the controllers were yelling orders back and forth to each other. It certainly sounded like mass confusion, but the display screen now showed “10.” It was obvious the job was getting done, or something was getting done, and these men and women were well trained anyway to handle what seemed like mass confusion.
Jeff, Janet, Woods and Donemore were sitting close together and feeling totally helpless. Finally, Woods said, “I’m going to check with the General and see if there is anything we can do.”
The others watched as Woods stepped over and said a few words. The General was saying something and shaking his head at the same time. Woods said when he got back, “Everything is going as planned. The General doesn’t need us for anything at the moment and suggested we all go get a good meal and some rest, maybe take in a movie like ‘War of the Worlds’ or something.
“Nothing should happen, the General said, until the first bomb blows and that will not happen until three days hence. He said he would call us if anything unusual happened before that.”
Donemore stated, “I don’t know about food and rest, but a good stiff Tangueray and tonic with a slice of lime sounds good to me.”
Janet said, “Scotch and soda!”
“Jameison, straight!” Jeff added.
Woods was smiling and said, “We promised not to do the hard stuff until this was over, but I guess this is over for us, at least as of now. Let’s head back to the 57th Fighter Squadron’s bar. We can eat there as well.”
“Jeff, aren’t ongoing weather patterns important?” Janet asked. “And shouldn’t you stay?”
“No,” Jeff said. “I showed everyone how to pick the hot spots. The Captain’s weather personnel will take over from here.”
“Well, that’s it then,” Donemore said. “We’re outta here!”
22
IT WAS EARLY EVENING WHEN THEY ARRIVED AT THE 57th Fighter Squadron restaurant and bar. The four had become friends and this place was special to them. Many interesting conversations had taken place here that only they could comprehend—flying, alien football stadiums, neon-glowing aliens that live in space we hadn’t discovered yet, even the real reason there was a new moon in the sky. But they were there to relax and indulge in their favorite beverages. They knew what was happening and if the plans failed, these last few hours could very well be the last they would ever experience.
The owner greeted them inside the restaurant, informing them they were closed for food, but that the bar was still open.
Jeff was surprised and said, “You’re always open at this time, what’s wrong?”
The owner said, “I can’t get anyone to come to work with all the panic going on.”
“What panic are you talking about?” Janet asked.
The owner expressed a little shock as he responded, “Have you people been underground for the last day? For chrissakes! Go to the bar, have a stiff drink, and watch the TV, get caught up on the news. By the way, the first round is on me.”
They all looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders and headed to the bar area. A few customers sat staring at the TV and downing drinks at surrounding tables like they were trying to forget some terrible tragedy. The bar itself was shut down and they chose a table where they could see the TV.
The owner followed them and said, “What’ll it be folks? First round’s on me.”
“Dewar’s on the rocks.”
“Tangaray and Tonic with a twist of lime.”
“Jameson straight.”
“A Black Russian.”
“Good choices, be right back,” the owner said.
Donemore looked at Woods and said, “A Black Russian? I thought you were a Seagram’s fan?”
“Always wanted to taste a Black Russian before being planted and since I might not have the chance again,” Woods said, “it’s time to throw caution to the wind, as they say
.”
Donemore said, “Okay, if Woods is throwing caution to the wind, he’s not driving us home. It would be terrible to have something happen to us and not find out how all this ends.”
“My beloved, most esteemed partner,” Woods, said, “who said anything about driving? I think we’re here until the owner kicks us out or we get vaporized by Mother!”
Jeff replied, “He’s right, let’s just sit back and try to relax. It’s going to be three days before anything happens so we can stay and drink all we want.”
The owner returned with the tray of drinks. When finished setting them on the table, he said, “I made them doubles, that way you’ll numb your brains and tolerate the TV.”
“What’s all this TV stuff, anyhow?” Janet said.
The owner replied, “If you don’t know lady, I suggest you bottoms-up first, then watch the news.”
They didn’t bother. They knew what was going on and raised their glasses in a toast. “To victory.”
After they all took a good swallow, Janet said, “Every time I go to a disaster site, I don’t drink or even eat. Most often this is because there is no place left that has electricity or water or even buildings. This seems so weird to me. Everything is still standing, electricity is on and the water flows. It’s almost like no disaster is happening and yet I know this could be the biggest disaster of them all. The big one, the final pop, the last inning, no overtime, the end, the sayonara of all shit, and I’m just sitting here drinking.”
Donemore said, “Don’t be so hard on your self, Janet. You’re not here with just anyone, you’re here drinking with us! The best of the best! The brightest of the bright!
“Look at it on the positive side. You’ve worked hard and saved lives. You’ve done your job, and there is nothing we can do now. It’s in the hands of the military. If they are successful, you’re going to be one busy lady. So sit back and enjoy the rest, you might need it.”
BAD RAIN: A SCI-FICTION THRILLER Page 23
