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, though 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 s
wings 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 abashed, “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.
Nelson stares at his cup perplexed, the General just made me coffee, wow! The unexpected service has him stupefied. He takes a sip, relishing in its flavor, then sits down in a chair opposite the General’s. The strong coffee helps both men refocus.
Nelson takes another sip as he gathers his thoughts, “Thanks,” he says as he lifts his cup. “Okay, to the matter at hand.” He takes one more drink, then begins. “I mentioned yesterday that the suits have a mind altering effect upon the wearers. Well, it’s even worse than we thought. We have known all along that the suits are operated by thought. Well, we now know that they also synchronize their output to that of the wearer, all the while increasing synaptic activity while stimulating the pleasure center of the brain.”
Nelson pauses, then, seeing he has the General’s undivided attention, continues. “What this means is that eventually only the one operator will be able to use the suit. Not only that, they will actually become dependent upon it. It’s like a narcotic, and we just made Bill give it up, cold turkey.”
Walker considers what he has heard, then adds his thoughts, “This makes little sense, unless the Gamin are able to reset the suits somehow. Hmm, that would do it.” Putting his military mind to work, he gives his instructions, “We will start rotating the crews through the suits. I want you to determine a safe level of use.”
Nelson sits nervously, unsure how to relay his team’s other assessment, so he just blurts it out, “Olaf and George have been gone a long time, and they both used the suits prior to their departure. We have no idea what effect such a long term exposure has on the human brain.” He pauses in reflection then adds, “Should they ever return...” his words trail off, leaving the last few unspoken.
Walker raises his eyebrows, and thinks, smart, happy, and addicted suit wearers. Sounds like a controlled army, not a workforce. A cold shudder runs through his body as he imagines what would happen if entire cities were conscripted, indeed whole civilizations, all happily working. The ramifications of this begin to show on his face.
Nelson gulps, then with genuine fear creeping into his voice, “You can see the dilemma now. Our friendly Gamin enslave their workforce in a most insidious manner, and what choice do we have? How can anyone deny them their requests?”
Location:
KGB Headquarters
Minsk, Russia
Pavel slams his fist on the table, “No Igor!” He shouts the words across the room, “War is not an option. Quit presenting your first strike strategies. The Chinese have just demonstrated a powerful new weapon, and thanks to the Brits, we know they are secretly improving their infrastructure.”
Igor stands, shoves his chair back forcefully, and begins pacing the room. His inner fury threatening to overwhelm him. Finally, with his face still t
witching in anger, he stops and turns to address Pavel. “We should at least put the navy out to sea, and rebase our strategic bombers.”
Pavel gazes around the room, his eyes falling upon other the committee members, who all remain silent, as of yet. “Do any of you have a voice?” Their silent watching disgusts him, can’t make a wrong decision if you don’t make any. Cowards! He thinks. Swinging his gaze to Igor once more, he nods in consent, “Very well, I agree. Get the fleet to sea and the bombers relocated, but we will keep our ground forces where they are.”
Igor stares at him blankly, momentarily stupefied by his sudden support. With no one to direct his anger toward, it fades quickly. Gazing around the room, he surprises all with his passive response, “Very well, I concur.”
Whereas it took America days of debate, the Russian military is activated after one brief meeting, and that was without their President even attending. The men slowly exit the room, all except for Pavel and Igor. They have unresolved business to attend to.
When they are finally alone, Pavel walks over to Igor, and with a sympathetic tone in his voice, inquires, “So, are you going to tell me what’s really bothering you, comrade?”
Igor scrutinizes Pavel, the man who has opposed him on numerous occasions, measuring his sincerity. He sighs deeply. While still staring at Pavel, his face becomes a stern mask, “Russia is doomed, comrade.” For a split second, his countenance threatens to show his bottled up emotions, but he keeps them in check.
Pavel’s mouth drops open in surprise, “How can you say that?”
“The Chinese are planning something big. The amount of material they have been sending to that ghost city of theirs is beyond anything we ever imagined.” Igor states bluntly.
Pavel’s brow creases in a frown as Igor continues. “We have been successful in bribing a worker into taking pictures.” With a thin smile, he adds, “And they managed to do one better. Come and watch what I have seen, and then you tell me we have nothing to fear.”
Colony (Terran Chronicles Book 3) Page 5
