Strands of Sorrow

by John Ringo

  “Killer issue: Production on the scale we’d have to produce it. Models said clearing all the urban areas of the U.S. would require fifteen thousand one hundred and forty-two sorties. Or seven million five hundred and seventy-one gallons of Amidol. Which is a hell of a lot of poison gas, General.”

  “I would have discarded the thought at that point,” Ramos said. “When you talk about ‘millions of gallons’ of complex chemicals in this environment. Infeasible.”

  “I came to the same conclusion, sir,” Steve said, grinning. “What’s that thing about the proof of another man’s intelligence, sir? I had come to the reluctant realization that we were going to have to use pied piper and artillery. Which meant at the least starting up or finding an artillery plant. Nitrates . . . Et cetera.

  “Then we found the Nebraska turned over pierside at King’s Bay. And after discussion with various officers who knew more than I about nuclear reactors, we decided we needed to right it and pull the reactor. Which set off a very serious discussion by very serious nuclear engineers of just how deadly dangerous that was going to be and how insanely safe we were going to have to be to keep from killing the salvage crews.”

  “Deadly dangerous being a good thing in this instance,” Ramos said, nodding.

  “The mechanicals are nothing more than a deliberate industrial accident, sir,” Steve said. “So I decided ‘why not a deliberate radiological accident?’”

  “Contamination?” Ramos asked.

  “Very minimal,” Steve said. “The device is filtered for gamma. Gamma rays don’t really leave much residual radiation behind, sir. We did a test of a spot one had been sitting on for two weeks and in another two weeks it was barely above background. They just zip through the infected and somewhat slowly kill them. Biggest problem is secondary contamination from the metals in the bot. Since you can’t feel, smell or touch gamma rays . . . the infected flock and feed. And die. And die. They’re not even heavily irradiated. But over time they get enough to kill them.

  “We’ll have to dispose of the bots eventually. They are seriously contaminated. But not the ground. And although gammas keep going, they also spread in every direction. They’re basically a nonissue beyond a few dozen meters. Biggest problem is their limited range and the fact that the closer infected act to absorb the radiation. That one is going to have to be moved soon. What we’re looking at, now that we have some empirical data, is how often they’ll have to be moved to maintain utility. Again, that may turn into a killer logistical issue. There are no easy solutions to hundreds of millions of infected. So far.”

  “You’re going to need a lot of nuclear material,” Ramos said.

  “There are sixty-five nuclear power plants in the U.S., General,” Steve said. “Each has spent fuel rods in cooling ponds available for use as well as their internal fuel rods. That is quite a bit of material. We also have several thousand nuclear weapons in inventory, sir. They, too, can be used. Once you break them down to materials, sir, they’re not useable as nukes of course.”

  “I was the guard commander for a site, Captain,” Ramos said. “I know how hard it is to get a sustained explosive reaction. This may seem ‘old school’ but the materials could be used for terrorism. Dirty bombs . . .”

  “Until they are done with their work, they are extremely well guarded by infected, sir,” Steve said. “A tough nut for anyone but a military unit to crack. Some people may eventually have helos as well. We’ll patrol the drop points with Gunhawks night and day. That should discourage theft. And approaching from the ground would be . . . difficult. Gamma radiation goes through just about everything. You noticed the curved shield, sir? The reason there is a shield is so you can’t actually see the core from above. If you could, we’d eventually lose crews.

  “When the helo drops a specially designed connector into the cup, that releases the shield, which drops and cuts off emissions. The bot is picked up and carried to another spot and begins again. Refueling the small generator on it is an issue, as is any other ‘maintenance’ on the system. It is very hot. We rotate the crews working on them and they use lead-lined gear. We can also use plutonium from warheads, although it takes two warheads to make a good emitter, or a couple of fuel rods from a civilian reactor. There are several dozen just in the cooling ponds at the nuclear plant in Jax. There are other sources. We can make at least three hundred with nuclear material currently available or that we can avail ourselves of. One reason we’re going to have to clear the Stennis at some point. We need the rods.”

  “How many estimated infected in the U.S.?” Ramos asked.

  “About seventy million at this point, General,” Steve said. “Based on models. Number is dropping slowly. There was a large initial die-off just after the Fall for a variety of reasons including cannibalism, then another during the winter. Unfortunately, things appear to generally be stable at this point. Current rough models are that we’ll drop to something like thirty million in ten years. In ten years, any survivors in sheltered redoubts are going to be out of materials. If the U.S. isn’t cleared in three years or so we’ll lose an estimated eighty percent of the remaining survivors. So we’re going to have to do this as fast and as brutal as possible. Ask me for anything but time.”

  “Biggest mass murderer in history,” Ramos said. “I see why you told Lieutenant Smith there were more efficient ways to clear than a tank.”

  “Notional plan is as follows, sir,” Steve said. “Move the ground force via railroad. Roads are blocked, railroads we can clear. Move into area that has been rough-cleared by Subedey. Set up a secure forward airfield. Have the helos fly in and prep. Helos pick up the devices, then move into surrounding area. Once the area is yellow cleared by the Subedey devices, move into it, away from the particular points, and do it all over again. And that’s all we’ve got at present, sir. The rest is details which, well, we’ve got the PowerPoint if you’d really like to sit through it.”

  “Possibly at a later date,” General Ramos said. “You have discussed this with the Joint Chiefs?”

  “Yes, sir,” Steve said. “Every flag officer is briefed, General. I ran this same brief for Admiral Hiscock just the other day. I, by the way, see this as an Army program, not Navy. Navy may use some for clearance on coastal cities but we’re mostly looking at it as Army. The Joint Chiefs see the potential efficacy, sir, and the issues. The current group is onboard.”

  “I’ll need to see the full details and talk to some of the nuclear officers,” Ramos said. “But notionally so am I.”

  “The cities are the problem, General,” Steve said. “Cities and suburbs. They are where the mass of survivors remain. Getting them cleared out is going to be key to freeing the world. We can’t simply nuke them. It would take out half the world’s survivors.”

  “All understood,” General Ramos said, shaking his head. “It’s a big task.”

  “It’s a small world, General,” Steve said. “But I wouldn’t want to paint it. Unfortunately, it appears we must.”

  “What were your immediate plans for your forces?” Ramos said.

  “Every task requires trained personnel, sir,” Steve said. “There are more of those in the military than in general civilian areas. Thus: Continue clearance of coastal bases is the near-term plan. Norfolk is, alas, a very big ticket. Lots of population density, lots of infected. We’ve been looking at it and rubbing our chins. We’re cutting out ships but clearing even the base, which has multiple perimeter breaches, is going to be a chore. We may start Subedey there. I’ve been talking with my staff about concentrating our forces to do so. After we’d cleared Lejeune and the surrounding bases. Once we have sufficient force, clear Savannah to get to Hunter and Stewart at which point we’ll stand the Army back up. There’s a notional plan for a deep strike to Bragg as well. Lots of high quality forces there and we’d anticipate similar survival levels to Lejeune.”

  “I’m going to make one recommendation,” General Ramos said. “It is a recommendation, only. It is still
up in the air whether I will continue at my current rank or take a position at a lower one. Given the numbers we have, that’s understandable. Especially with the example of General Montana, whom I’d met prior to the Plague and, like most warriors, admire. I’m not going to say ‘I’m in charge!’ like Al Haig just because I have stars. Recommendation only.”

  “Yes, sir?” Steve said.

  “We’re coming up on one year since the announcement of the Plague,” General Ramos said. “I would suggest that we need something to show how far we’ve come back.”

  “As you say, sir?” Steve said.

  “Norfolk is important,” Ramos said. “We need the personnel, we need the facilities. If for no other reason than to bring them to Jax. And the survivors and dependents are going to be our people. That is important as well. But I would recommend a mostly symbolic mission.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Time to clear D.C., Captain,” Ramos said. “My recommendation is that by the one-year anniversary of the announcement of the H7D3 virus, Americans own our capital again.”

  “General,” Steve said. “I have no objections to that plan.”

  “And one additional recommendation,” General Ramos said. “Use tanks, not bots.”

  “Will do, sir. Care to command the ground force, General?”

  “That would truly be an honor, Captain.”

  CHAPTER 24

  “You know,” Faith said as the LCU entered the cavernous well-deck of the USS Bataan. “Maybe having a great big freaking hole in the middle of a ship isn’t such a bad idea.”

  The Bataan had been “cut out” from Norfolk where it had been alongside when the plague broke out, then towed down to Mayport along with the out-of-commission Iwo Jima. By cannibalizing the Iwo Jima and quite a few other work-arounds, crews had gotten it back into commission in record time. Which was useful since they were going to need it for Operation George.

  “Yuh think,” Sophia said, leaning her arms on the railing and watching Trixie being brought aboard. She was still in her flight suit, having just brought in “her” Seahawk. She’d qualified as an aircraft commander. Her copilot had been a Marine F-18 pilot who was now a Navy lieutenant, two ranks above her. She was still in charge when they were in the air. Which was cool. Weird, but cool. “Most stuff the Navy does makes sense. Eventually.”

  “White caps?” Faith said.

  “You can use them to hold water,” Sophia said.

  “Bullshit,” Faith said. “I know that’s the supposed reason but it’s bullshit. Bell bottoms. Thirteen-button fly. It’s just a traditional and stupid uniform unlike our glorious ones. Manning the rail. On a man-o-war it sort of made sense. People could hang onto stuff and there was a fucking railing on the deck. On a carrier, it’s insane. You’re right by a five-story drop to the water. There’s not even a rail to man. It’s just so admirals and captains can jack off.”

  “And the Marines are any better?” Sophia said, ticking points off on her fingers. “You start off marching on the wrong foot, you can’t get your rank acronyms into a simple three-letter scheme like every other service in the world, and what the hell is the thing with ‘Good night, Chesty’?”

  “Those all make perfect sense,” Faith said loyally. “Well, I’ll give you the acronym thing, but we’re sticking with ‘Good night, Chesty.’”

  “Lieutenant Faith Smith to Briefing Room Four,” the tannoy blared. “Lieutenant Faith Smith to Briefing Room Four.”

  “I’m not scheduled for a meeting,” Faith said, looking at her watch.

  “Looks like you are, now,” Sophia said, waving. “Have fun.”

  “Ensign Smith to the ready room! Ensign Smith to the ready room!”

  “Hah, hah!” Faith said, grinning as she opened the hatch. “Have fun in your meeting, Sis . . .”

  * * *

  “Barrels on miniguns do wear out, sir,” Lieutenant Wilkes said. “And once they wear out, replacement is currently problematic.”

  “We’ve got a lot more fifty caliber barrels than miniguns . . .”

  “Body clearance . . .”

  The problem was while Washington, D.C. only had six hundred thousand residents, more or less, prior to the Plague, and most of the affluent had probably fled, there were more than six million residents within a ten mile radius from the Washington monument. That meant at current rates of infected survival, something like two million zombies. And zombies were people. They’d travel quite a ways for a nice meal. Any signs of life in the downtown areas and the surrounding hordes would close in. There was no point in clearing D.C. if they couldn’t turn on the lights of the Washington Monument for fear of being swarmed.

  The other problem was that they still had barely a regiment. Besides equipment, Da had sent about a battalion strength of Marines to the West Coast. General Montana needed them just to make a dent in the Southern California zombie brigades. The zombies had, unfortunately, survived better than people. Southern California had a great climate with the exception of a decided lack of rainfall. Where the East Coast people could figure out how to make something resembling cisterns and survive on rainfall, many of the redoubt compartments that would otherwise have survived on the West Coast succumbed to lack of water.

  Where they’d gotten ten percent survivors at PI, they had found less than three percent at Pendleton and Coronado despite the best efforts of the survivors. Water had just run out.

  Then there was the problem of the roads. They were choked with cars. Even more so than Jax. Tighter road network and people had waited later to flee, assuming D.C. couldn’t possibly fall. So, many of the roads were impassable to vehicles. All of the many bridges were choked. Which also meant that blocking them was going to be an issue. Infected could get through the cars but you couldn’t just set down containers to close them. Then there was the fact that D.C. wasn’t anything resembling an island. It had rivers on two sides and Rock Creek but Rock Creek was open to infiltration and to the north it was entirely open. There was no realistic way to close the city with the forces they had.

  Last but not least, they were running out of M1028. There had been a stock at Lejeune and more on the Iwo but not, in Faith’s opinion, nearly enough. Of course, in her opinion there could never be enough canister.

  She and Sophia had ended up in the same meeting in the end, which was going around in circles.

  “Ensign Smith,” Colonel Ramos said. He’d taken a voluntary demotion to colonel and taken over all “field” forces, which included the Navy forces forward. Hamilton had stepped aside with total grace. “Everyone has voiced various opinions except you and your sister. Would you care to chime in?”

  “I’d start with gunboats,” Sophia said. “The same way we did in the Canaries and Caribbean.”

  “Gunboats are not going to clear the city, Lieutenant,” Major Sanskeld said. “We’ve been over that.”

  Sanskeld was one of the PI officers who had managed to avoid reduction. He was good enough, but PI officers, in general, were not high on Faith’s “like them” list and were low on the “trust them” list. He also was a huge “what-if Dave,” in that every single suggestion had to be countered with a “what-if” or a “that won’t work.” Not, not, not.

  “I said start with them, sir,” Sophia said. “D.C. is a river city. Why not use our proven riverine and oceanic abilities?”

  “Go on,” Colonel Ramos said.

  “That’s all I’ve got, sir,” Sophia admitted. “I agree with Commander Wilkes that clearing from the air is problematic, sir. Just so damned many of them. We could look at water-cooled on the helos. But you really don’t need fifty to kill zombies, sir. We’ve never looked at water-cooled two-forties or even Barbie guns. Both have possibility. I’m not sure you can convert a SAW to belt-fed, but if you could, and you cooled it . . . the infected eventually bleed out.”

  “Leaving piles of rotting bodies all over the city,” Sanskeld pointed out. “Which without the infected to keep them in check means rats explod
e!”

  “She is making salient suggestions, Major,” Colonel Ramos said. “Objections and issues are for later. So . . . water-cooled machine guns from helos?”

  “I’m not very happy with it, sir, but it’s the best I’ve got,” Sophia said. “And it would take both some serious mechanical work and some testing, sir.”

  “Understood,” Ramos said, making a note. “Even if we don’t use it here, it’s something worth looking at for the future. Thank you, Ensign. Your suggestion on gunboats is definitely worth looking into. We also need to stop throwing away our brass. At some point we’re going to have to make more ammo and we can do reloading. Remelt the brass at the very least. Any idea how many it would get in terms of population?”

  “Depends on how long you did it, sir,” Sophia said. “We only did one attack on each point in previous missions, sir. I would suppose you could do multiples. Eventually you would draw infected from quite a distance. How far I’m not sure. I would roughly estimate five miles if you just kept doing it, sir. How far can you see one of those vertical spot-lights, sir? Have a division with one on a barge as we did in Jax. Fire up at dawn, stand down until the next dawn and do it again, sir. Eventually you’ll reduce the numbers quite a bit, sir. And if fifty is in short supply, we can switch to something else if we water cool them, sir. Two-forties will do the job, sir.”

  “All good points,” Ramos said. “Now what are the objections?”