by Dean M. Cole
She turned toward her mom and saw her lower lip trembling. Apparently, the conversation had been distracting her mother, keeping her mind from her worries. Sandy's silence had snapped her back to the present. Grabbing her frail wrinkled hand, Sandy gave a reassuring squeeze and continued the conversation. "Well, Mom, the one in Arizona was going thousands of miles per hour. This one only fell a couple of thousand feet. You heard something because it was traveling less than the speed of sound. Otherwise, you never would've heard it coming."
The lip firmed as her mother seemed to consider this. "I guess you're right, honey." She cast a knowing glance at Sandy. "Now, quit worrying about me, and let's go find your father." Then, not waiting for Sandy's guidance, she stepped over the next rock.
"Yes, ma'am," Sandy said. Still tightly grasping her hand, Sandy was yanked forward. It was good to see her mother's fire reestablish itself. As far back as she could remember, her mom had always been full of piss and vinegar, in spite of her diminutive size.
Leading the way, her mother followed the same path Sandy had intended. While avoiding smoldering chunks of asteroid, they climbed over uprooted tree trunks and terrestrial boulders. Each time one of them tripped over hidden roots or slipped while traversing loose gravel, the other's hand gave support.
Several exhaustive minutes later, their end of the street slid into view. They both froze mid-step.
Her mother's free hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, John!"
Sandy cried, "Daddy!"
The front half of the house, including the entire garage, was gone. While the main body had missed it, a separate van-sized chunk of asteroid sat in the center of a crater occupying the space that had previously been garage, living-room, and entrance foyer. The rest of the home was wrenched and twisted. Forming a parallelogram, the normally square angles of walls and roof leaned right.
A small section had burned, but a still geysering broken water main appeared to have quenched the flames.
"Come on," her mom said, breaking into a jog down the back of the crater rim.
Snapping from her trance, Sandy followed. Slowed by the knee she'd injured during the aborted landing in Monterey, she struggled to keep up with her reinvigorated mother. Sandy felt the first hint of hope swim to the surface. The house hadn't been pulverized as she'd feared. However, the fact he hadn't been on the street searching for her mother was still worrying.
Crossing into the remnants of their front yard, her mom called, "John?"
Only the sound of water spraying from the broken main answered.
Going around the smaller crater formed by the asteroid fragment, they moved toward the back of the house. Arriving at the side gate first, her mother fought with the sticky latch. "I've been telling your father to fix this damn thing for years."
"Let me." As she'd been doing since childhood, Sandy gave the handle a yank while applying upward pressure. The gate's cedar planks racked, and the latch popped out. Its hinges squealed their protest as she swung it open.
"If that man spent a tenth of the time on this house as he does on that stupid plane, this wouldn't happen."
Sandy knew the complaints served to deflect her mom's thoughts from what might await their discovery in the minutes to come. Her mother had always complained about her father's constant tinkering with the grounded decertified airplane parked in his hangar. Situated behind their house and overrun by weeds grass and dirt, the hangar and adjacent runway were the last remnants of the long defunct Carmel Valley Vintage Airport, the home of so many of Sandy's memories.
Fully opening the gate, Sandy gestured into the backyard. "I know, Mom. Let's go."
Looking down, her mother started crying and trembling. "I'm afraid. I can't lose him, Sandy. He's all I, I…" She seemed to melt before Sandy's eyes. The strong rock-solid firecracker, as her dad always called her, cried uncontrollably.
Sandy hugged her. "I'm sure he's okay." Holding her tightly, she added, "Why don't you wait here. I'll go check inside—"
"No!" she interrupted, shaking off Sandy's embrace. Taking a few deep breaths, she steadied herself, apparently quelling the tormenting emotions. The firecracker façade reasserted itself, making the woman appear much taller than her diminutive five feet two inches. "Let's go find the old coot." Waving a dismissive hand at the chaotic scene behind them, she added, "That man is way too stubborn to let this shit knock him down."
Not for the first time, it occurred to Sandy that this is where she'd acquired what Jake jokingly referred to as her colorful vocabulary.
Her mom pointed to the sky. "And, if those sons-a-bitches hurt my Johnny, they'll have me to deal with!"
Wiping away a tear of her own, Sandy smiled in spite of the dire situation. "I know that's right, Momma. I know that's right."
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
"Admiral, the squadrons are away," reported a bridge officer.
"Very well," Thoyd replied.
The long inbound flight from the edge of the disruptor's field had been excruciatingly slow. Counterintuitively, the Zoxyth hadn't used the extra time to affect their escape. He had assumed that the Zox commander had deployed the disruptor to buy time for a tactical withdrawal should the GDF arrive. Instead, they had used the period to take up a defensive position over one of the planet's oceans.
It also appeared the Zoxyth had yet to attack the planet. Aside from blast patterns consistent with hypervelocital atmospheric shockwaves, they saw no sign of attack, no use of Zoxyth weapons.
After another inward glance at his synthetic vision's dead omninet icon, Thoyd turned to his tactical officer. "Colonel, where do we stand?"
After activating the bridge's holographic display, the officer pointed at the gathering enemy ships. "They're still forming over the planet, sir."
Admiral Feyhdyak studied the collected rocky vessels. "That's not their standard attack formation. It's purely defensive." Accessing the display with his EON, Thoyd magnified the enemy fleet. The point-of-view flew into the rocky formation as would a closing fighter.
His tactical officer nodded. "Yes, sir. It appears they're moving to support a smaller ship."
Continuing to zoom in, the hologram's moving point-of-view flew between the outer ships, closing on the center vessel until its image filled the three-dimensional display.
Thoyd shot to his feet. "I thought you said we had no other ships in sector?"
"I did, sir. We're the first Galactic Defense Forces on station."
"Are you sure?" the admiral pushed.
Confused, the officer scanned his console again. After a moment, he shook his head and looked at the admiral. "I'm positive, sir."
"Then, who or what did that?" he asked, pointing at the decimated Zoxyth bridge section.
The tactical officer shook his head, then paused, studying his console. "Admiral, I'm receiving reports of new ships lifting from the surface."
With his EON, Thoyd adjusted the holographic display, bringing Earth's surface back into view. Chasing some of the Zoxyth dreadnoughts from the surface, several small, gray holograms lifted from points around the globe.
He sat back in stunned admiration. "Looks like these earthly Argonians have a little bite in them."
"But, sir, there's no Zoxyth weapon's signature over any of the planet's continents."
"I'll wager there's at least one sign of non-Zoxyth nuclear attack."
"Uh …" the officer paused, taking a moment to study the readings. "Yes, sir. There are several gamma source points near North America's East Coast." Then he looked up, amazed. "It's the remnant of a Zoxyth dreadnought."
The admiral nodded, sharing in the officer's amazement. Shifting his gaze outside, he studied the planet below. This was his first visit to Earth. He thought it was beautiful and could understand why lost colonist would choose it. The Zoxyth ships were gathering high over one of its oceans. A quick EON access of the planetary database identified it as the Atlantic. Clearly visible on the day side, North America bordered it on his left, Europe on t
he right.
"How in the hell did they defeat a Zoxyth dreadnought?" Admiral Feyhdyak wondered aloud. "And, prior to it attacking, no less."
On the display, he watched his attack squadrons maneuver. Each eighteen-ship squadron had three wings of six Firebird light-attack ships. The computer used color codes and symbols to represent the various squadrons and subordinate wings. The holographic representation of the attack squadrons formed a multicolored sphere encircling and tightening on the Zoxyth Fleet.
Representing a peace loving government, the Galactic Defense Force's policy dictated they not shoot first.
"Remind our squadron commanders that we're on a weapon's hold status. They are to continue their box-in maneuver but are not to fire unless fired upon," Thoyd ordered. "The Zoxyth haven't attacked. We may yet bring this to a peaceful solution."
The communications officer nodded and EONed the command to the fighter squadrons.
Thoyd reviewed the tactical implications of the Zox position. According to EON supplied demographics, a nuclear electromagnetic pulse radiated from the location and altitude of the Zoxyth formation would fry the primitive electronics of the planet's leading technological societies.
The admiral turned to the helmsman. "Position the carrier group between the Zoxyth and the planet's surface," he ordered. "If they try a diversionary attack, our shields will protect the surface from enemy nuclear weapons and E.M.P."
Utilizing his EON's dedicated combat communications channel, the helmsman shared the plan with his opposite within each of the carrier's complement of fourteen battlecruisers. Simultaneously, the massive formation turned toward the planet. Per protocol, six cruisers led the way. A quartet formed a defensive halo around the carrier, and the remaining four dropped into rear cover.
Normally, the fleet would occupy a region of space the size of Earth's moon. However, the compactness of the Zoxyth formation and its proximity to the planet's surface dictated a significantly smaller defensive arrangement.
Studying the EON generated graphics superimposed over his real world view, Thoyd eyed the inactive Omninet link. Disconnected from his main consciousness, he felt like an island of humanity. He turned to the communications officer. "Can we take out that disruptor field?"
The portly bald officer shook his head. "Not without an all out assault. And, with all the shielding his surrounding ships are providing, that won't be an easy task, sir."
Admiral Feyhdyak shook his head. "They haven't attacked anybody, yet. Enemy or not, I'm not going to wipe out thousands of them just to reestablish communications."
Thoyd walked into the center of the expansive bridge's hologram and stood face to face with the three-dimensional alien head at the formation's center. The rendering cast a red glow across his countenance. Staring into its burning eyes, he said, "What the hell are you up to?"
***
"Those are Argonian ships!" Richard said excitedly, then hesitated. "But … something is wrong."
"What?" Jake said.
"I'm not sure, but it looks like they dropped out of parallel-space farther away than normal. A few months back, we met with one of their large ships on the far side of the Moon. They didn't want to be seen from the planet. So, they dropped back into real-space at the exact coordinates specified for the meeting. It was incredible. One second, there was nothing, the next, a huge ship popped into existence." Richard pointed at the green formation and shook his head. "Now, flying into combat, they're approaching from way beyond the Moon's orbit … under normal propulsion." He looked at Jake. "They've crapped away the element of surprise."
As additional green ships slid into the holographic display, Jake reached into it and magnified the largest Argonian vessel. It was a thing of beauty. The spaceship's soft curves and flowing lines made the enormous vessel look as if it could fly through the atmosphere or float on an ocean.
"Take the flight controller," Richard said, stepping to the display.
Jake moved to the control panel. After evaluating the relative position of the enemy and Argonian ships, he said, "I'm going to park us south and well above the enemy formation. That'll keep us out of the way and out of their weapon's range."
"Sounds good," Richard said as he studied the holographic display. "Plus, that'll give us a good perspective on the battle."
"I'm sure one is coming," Victor said.
Jake nodded, wondering why it hadn't already started. Toggling the comm panel, he called, "Vampire Six, this is Turtle One, over."
Richard manipulated the display, positioning a hologram of the largest Argonian ship next to that of an enemy ship.
Jake marveled at its apparent size. It dwarfed the alien's city-sized asteroidal vessel.
"Oh my god," Vic said, his jaw hanging open in unbridled amazement. "They're beautiful … and huge!"
"It is," Richard agreed. A look of wonder temporarily displaced his ever-present sardonic smirk.
Colonel Newcastle's reply echoed through the ship. "Turtle One, this is Vampire Six. Got you loud and clear. My holographic display shows the enemy forming on a smaller ship. We're maneuvering to press the attack."
"Negative, Vampire Six. You need to stand-off," Jake said.
"No, Captain. Timing is of the essence. We need to attack before they can redeploy their weapons," Colonel Newcastle replied, misinterpreting Jake's concern. "With the speed of their attacks and subsequent movements, we've only managed to take out the one ship we killed over the Chesapeake. From the timing of their attacks, we've determined they have a forty-five minute recharge time."
"It's not the weapon, sir. Our display is showing a new fleet."
A long pause followed Jake's report. Finally, the colonel said, "I don't see it, but my hologram is a reverse engineered copy of yours. It doesn't have the range of the Argonian sensors. What is it displaying?" Newcastle asked, then added, "Please tell me they're green."
Colonel Newcastle's comments answered one question. Jake looked at Richard. "Reverse engineered? Guess we know where they came from, then."
Richard nodded, "Apparently, we weren't the lowest level in the hangar."
Jake keyed the mic. "Yessir, very green. It's an Argonian fleet."
"Hot damn! The cavalry is coming," replied the colonel, excitement breaking through his battle-weary tone.
"They're advancing on the alien fleet," Jake said. Watching Richard manipulate the hologram, he added, "And, you're right about the enemy ships, sir. They are regrouping around a smaller ship."
Jake refocused on the events unfolding outside. Something was raising alarms in his mind. "Hey, Richard, I'm guessing they've never brought a force of this size to Earth space."
"No, never. They have very strict noninterference rules." Pointing at the display, he added, "A fleet that size doesn't go unnoticed."
"That's what I thought. They must've received intel these aliens were coming. Right?"
"I'd say that's a safe assumption. I just wish they would have gotten here a few hours sooner."
"No shit," Victor said.
Jake nodded and pointed at the enemy formation. "So, the weapon these assholes attacked us with can't be new to them?"
"No. The Argonians are the most technologically advanced race in the galaxy."
Jake persisted. "By my count, that's two major assumptions we've made in the last sixty seconds. Normally, I don't like making one."
Richard raised his hands in surrender and returned to the console. "You're right. I'll try to raise them."
Activating a new section of the panel, he spoke in the Argonian tongue. "To the Galactic Defense Forces in Earth space, this is United States Air Force Captain Richard Allison, over."
They stared at the silent radio.
"Argonian fleet entering Earth space, this is Captain Allison of the US Air Force. Please come in, over."
Still no reply.
"GDF Fleet this is—"
"Captain Allison," interrupted an annoyed Argonian voice. "This is the Executive Officer of the G
alactic Guardian. As you may have noticed, we are a little busy at the moment. Please clear this frequency."
"Roger, Galactic Guardian. I just wanted to make sure you were aware of the enemy's weapon—"
"Captain!" the snide officer said, cutting him off again. "I assure you, we are fully capable of dealing with these Zoxyth dreadnoughts. Now please clear this frequency."
Activating the radio transmitter, Richard growled through clenched teeth, "Roger. Captain Allison, out." Releasing the key, he added, "Asshole!"
Amazed at the Argonian's response, Jake shook his head. "Some things never change."
"Guess there are assholes in the future too," Vic said, shaking his head.
"Well, now we know the name of those fuckers," Jake said as he pointed at the enemy fleet.
"Speaking of," Richard said, walking back to the display. "Let's see what these Zoxyth are up to." He magnified the enemy formation. The small ship at its center grew to fill the display. They all took a shocked backward step. In spite of the extensive blast damage, the evil visage was easily recognizable. Now twisted and partially melted, the human skull still sat in the alien's clenched teeth.
Jake snapped from his shocked trance, quickly toggling the radio. "Vampire Six, it looks like part of the ship you attacked over the Chesapeake survived."
"Part of it?" the colonel asked incredulously.
"Yes, sir. It's the section we've been calling the bridge. The part carved into an alien head somehow survived, and now, it's back in space."
After a brief pause, Newcastle said, "Son of a bitch! All right, Captain Giard. Thanks for the info. General Tannehill and I thought it was the bridge too, and considering it attacked the US capitol, I believe that was their command ship."
"Roger, sir," Jake said. "The way the ships are circling the wagons, it looks like they're trying to protect it."
"So, what's the cavalry up to?" Colonel Newcastle asked.
Richard zoomed out the display. "Look at that!"
A swarm of small ships streamed from the largest of the Argonian ships, their maneuvering patterns unmistakable.
