The Oort Plague

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by Cliff Deane


  April 7, 2118. These Mag things have learned to fear my rifle, and they are now being much more stealthy as they search for me.

  Oh crap, yesterday, around dusk I may have made the big mistake when I fired one last shot for the day. Apparently, my shot was spotted as I saw one of the Mags pointing in my direction. Oh, man, what have I done? I guess I won’t be able to scrounge more ammo after all.

  I’m almost out of ammunition, and they definitely know where I am. I’m on my last magazine now with only five rounds left. I do have one, seven round mag for my .45. I figure the end will come in the morning around first light.

  -

  6 April to 8 April 2118

  From the diary of William Bell

  April 8, 2118. This will most likely be my last entry. The Mags have broken into the store. They’ll soon discover the stairs and come up to find me. I am taking up a firing position at the door, so I can fire straight down the hallway to pick them off as they reach the top. With only twelve rounds left, this last fight won’t last long, but I don’t plan to have any rounds left when I am finally overrun; one shot one kill, I’ll take out twelve more. I hope whoever finds this will continue the fight. This is my country, and it doesn’t belong to monsters. It won’t be much longer now. I can hear them on the stairs coming slowly up.

  Dear God, have mercy upon my soul, and please reunite me with my wife, Solange, and my son, Chris.

  “Dear God,” were the only words General Merritt could utter. He read the diary entries again before calling in his XO and Staff.

  Once everyone was seated around the Conference Table, Major General Tom Merritt read the diary to his Staff. He then said, “XO, I want you to see that every soldier, and I mean every single one gets a copy of this. Also, send it to the Cheyenne Mountain folks for further distribution. I do not want this man to be forgotten. His courage and American stubbornness will give strength to everyone who reads it. Roger?”

  The XO looked at the diary and took it from his General with a careful tenderness. He said, “Sir, I will personally see to it that your guidance is carried out. We must preserve this document for the history books.”

  In the final analysis, the importance of General Merritt’s decision to bivouac his troops in the Airport to preclude those who turned from escaping would never be known. Had they been left to scatter, many might have escaped with their weapons, thus increasing the possibility that the Mags would learn to use those rifles for more than clubs.

  10 April 2118

  Walmart Supercenter

  Lagrange, GA

  Two Ranger Battalions arrived and began to prepare for the kickoff of Operation Trap. They would move south to link up with two battalions moving north from Benning. Small outposts called fire bases consisting of six Rangers, supported by drones would be installed every three-hundred yards along their southerly advance. Outpost number one was named Fire Base Darby, in honor of Colonel William Darby who led Darby’s Rangers in WW II. His Rangers morphed into the US Army’s modern 75th Ranger Battalion.

  10 April 2118

  USSDF Leyte Gulf

  Space Fleet en route to Red Sands, Mars

  The SDF convoy’s rate of speed was slow, not due to the convoy itself, but because of the Space Station that was being towed. While it is true that mass has no weight in the vacuum of outer space, it is also true that mass traveling at speed will never slow down. An external counter-force must be applied in direct opposition to the direction of travel. This naturally requires the application of external jets. Unfortunately, the Space Station in tow had no such controls as it was not believed that it would ever leave its geosynchronous orbit above a fixed location. Any alterations to correct normal deviations were made by the station’s Space Tugs.

  Now, the towed Space Station was traveling at approximately thirty-five thousand miles per hour, with no brakes. Admiral King directed the Stores Officer to issue sufficient portable jets to Engineering. These jets would then be strategically placed to allow for a controlled stop and placement in its new orbit around Mars. Unfortunately, the installation of these jets took quite a while to install, by crews working with precision welders while wearing Space Suits.

  The Space Tugs would also be moved to the opposite end of travel to apply additional braking and alignment, as needed. Without these Tug Boats, utilizing the small jets alone, which were jury-rigged to the Space Station, would require a significant amount of time to bring the station to a stop. From a position of being dead still, the Tugs would be used to maneuver the station into its new geo-synchronous Mars orbit.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE SNATCH

  20 April 2118

  175th Ranger HQ

  Fort Benning

  General Merritt met with Captain Abraham, 1Lieutenant Storm, their K-9 Scout Russell, and First Sergeant Bill Tomlin to discuss the landing zone in Atlanta and the mission goals. First Sergeant Tomlin joined Jake’s force shortly after the umpteenth mission alteration of 15 April 2118. His job was to supervise and coordinate all the administrative functions of a Company First Sergeant. The increase of the Medical Detachment predicated the need to increase Jake’s unit from the original vision of a twelve-soldier squad to a platoon, and finally a fully fleshed out and reinforced Company. Tomlin was a career Ranger and had served with General Merritt since he was a three stripe Buck Sergeant.

  The group stood around a large sand table mockup of the Atlanta Braves Baseball Stadium.

  “Captain Abraham,” said General Merritt, “I am most pleased that we have been able to free up sufficient air assets to be able to assign them to you for the duration of Operation Snatch.

  “Your team, now known as Abe’s Avengers, cute, but for military records will be designated Easy Company, (Provisional), 175th Ranger Battalion, Special Mag Operations Group, (SMOG).

  “My concept and guidance for this mission is for an advanced party of two platoons departing two hours before the main body of Easy Company begins movement to the Braves Stadium.

  “The advanced party will have the initial mission of clearing and securing the five stadium entrance gates. Prefilled sandbags will arrive with the advanced party via CH-47. Sandbags will be used to reinforce the gate areas. Both prepositioned explosive devices to be used as a last resort to preclude the loss of any entrance. Claymore mines will also be positioned to repel any Mag attack. These positions will be secured prior to opening the staging area for the main body’s arrival.

  “The Second Platoon will be dispatched in fire teams to clear the inside stadium areas. Once the stadium is secure, hummingbird drones will be sent to scout out and identify the nearest Mag nest. Following the drone recon’s nest discovery, you will make your way to the nearest, cleared upper floor to establish an observation post where you can begin your study of Mag behavior. Any questions, so far?”

  “Yes, sir, from your extremely detailed guidance, I must ask; am I in command of Easy, or am I acting as your surrogate Platoon Leader?”

  “Jake,” smiled Tom Merritt, “what you have just received from me are guidelines. I see your point and can only offer that I am as new to this General thing as you are to being a Captain. Jake, this is your Company and your mission. We good?”

  “Thank you, General, we’re good. I just needed to make sure that I have the leeway to alter the mission parameters in keeping with any developing situation on the ground,” said Jake.

  Merritt again smiled before saying, “Jake, complete the mission.”

  As Jake climbed into the passenger’s side of his vehicle, the First Sergeant directed the driver, Corporal James (Oley) Olsen to ride in his carryall. Jake looked over at his First Sergeant and asked, “Something on your mind, Top?”

  “Yes, sir, I just want to make something clear to you. First, I have never heard anyone speak to the General like that, and I’ve been with him for many years. His response to your surrogate comment was not what I would have expected, so I figure he holds you in high regard, and if he does, then
so do I. Captain, don’t worry about Easy Company, if you’ll let me, I’ll take good care of it, and make you look good at the same time. General Merritt didn’t pull my name out of a hat, so let me do my job, and you focus on completing your mission. Deal?”

  “Top, I never thought it could work any other way. So, yeah, deal.”

  The conversation then shifted to Easy’s movement to Atlanta. Tomlin asked, “Sir, what changes to the General’s guidance have you already decided on? I’d like to hear your thoughts to see if we’re on the same track.”

  Jake now became the Commander speaking to his First Sergeant, “Top, I have to know something right now. Are you my partner in this fustercluck, or are you the General’s spy?”

  “That, sir, is the best and most professional initial question that you could ask, and my answer is as follows; I will have no communication with the General without your approval. All communications will go through you. Oh, yeah, Captain, the General has not said one word to me about my reporting to him on your performance, so, yes, we’re partners.”

  “Well, all right, Top, then we are good to go, and I thank you for your candor. It is absolutely true that no man can serve two masters.”

  “First Sergeant, at this exact moment I have no plans to deviate from the General’s Guidance. I guess it just sounded a bit too polished. Maybe he was just being Ranger Tom, or perhaps he was testing me, who knows? At any rate, I kind of like almost all of his guidance, but come to think of it, I think we’ll rely a bit less on boots on the ground and more on birds in the air when we search for a close Mag Nest. Your thoughts on that?”

  Before answering, Tomlin paused for a few seconds as he took in what Jake had just told him. He finally said, “Well, first off, about the guidance, I think he was being both Ranger Tom and being a bit more in depth because of your level of experience. Secondly, I like your idea about reining in the boots on the ground, yeah, good plan, sir.”

  This brief feeling out discussion became the beginning of a truly lasting partnership that would evolve into one of deep, mutual respect. The helicopters, ferrying operation, transporting Captain Jacob Abraham’s Easy Company from Fort Benning to Atlanta went flawlessly, thanks to First Sergeant Tomlin.

  21 April 2118

  Cheyenne Mountain

  Colorado

  As President Holcomb entered the Conference Room, the attendees rose from their seats until he was positioned before his chair. Vance Holcomb said, “Please be seated.”

  Protocol was now more important than at any time in American History for, without certain protocols and courtesies, contempt and dissension could more easily grow from discussion to revolution and anarchy. The William Bell diary had made its way to President Holcomb’s hands two hours before a scheduled meeting with his Cabinet.

  “Good morning, everyone,” said the President. “I hope you all slept well. My friends,” said Vance Holcomb, “the number one agenda item for this meeting is the dissemination of the diary of Mr. William Bell to every American. This man survived a tragedy that every American has also suffered. William Bell fell into a deep depression following the loss of his wife and child, but managed to pull himself from his, as he so succinctly put it, pity party and took a stand for himself, his lost family, and his country.

  “It is true that we, as a country, are now on our knees, but the spirit of Bell cannot, must not, be lost or forgotten. One of our Founding Fathers, Thomas Paine wrote a pamphlet called Common Sense which inspired the creation of this nation. Now, a young father has recorded his survival story along with the last four short days of his life.

  “This diary will inspire and guide American survivors of the Holly Thorne Pandemic to rise up to defeat this Mag infestation. The American spirit defined by Mr. William Bell will become the rallying call for a revival of what was once this great nation to return to its former glory.

  “I direct anyone who has not, as yet, had the opportunity to read Mr. Bell’s diary to do so before the end of this day. Your briefing packets contain a copy. Then, looking down at his briefing agenda, the President said, “General Morse, please update us on the Mag War.”

  The General stood and said, “Yes, sir,” before moving to the large view screen. He pressed a button on his remote, and a series of graphs and spreadsheets filled the screen. As he touched each one, they filled the screen, and General Hank Morse explained the significance of each.

  “Mr. President, as you can see, we have instructed our military at every Fort and Base in the U.S. to follow the SOPs learned from the Fort Benning, Operation Trap. Trap is approximately 10% complete. Our forces have linked up from the north and south. They have now changed direction eastward to the Chattahoochee River.

  “The advance is not so much hampered by the enemy, as by the huge number of buildings in our path. It appears that in this ninety square mile rectangle we are engaging hundreds of Mags. We anticipate this figure to increase into the thousands before Trap is completed.

  “We have also encountered one additional concern which was somehow overlooked during the initial planning phase; basements and sub-basements. Our drones cannot penetrate so deep underground. This blindness has forced us to retrieve maps from the zoning commissions of each city and town to assist us in locating these deep earth cavities.

  “The requirement to individually inspect each building with these subterranean features has significantly slowed progress. More importantly, it has also increased our losses by 3%.”

  “And why is that?” asked the Chief of Staff.

  “Well, sir,” said General Morse, “it is dark with insufficient operational space for large groups of soldiers to clear. The required flashlights give advance warning of our men as they advance into, what we have discovered are Mag lairs.

  “Sir, the Mags seem to have the ability to see in the dark much better than us, and our night vision goggles must have some small light source to operate. In the pitch dark of those underground Mag fortresses, our Tunnel Rats often come under a one or two Mag attack.”

  “Tunnel Rats?” asked the President.

  “Yes, sir, that name comes from the soldiers who went down into tunnels after the enemy during the Viet Nam War, back in the 1960s. Our boys have even adopted the same motto; non-gratum annus rodentum,” said General Morse.

  Everyone around the table looked questioningly at the General who finally smiled before saying, “It’s Latin and translates as, we don’t give a rat’s ass. Those guys must have balls of steel, I, for one, am damned proud of them. Oh, sir, one other thing about these men; they are all strictly volunteers.”

  Continuing with his briefing, General Hank Morse said, “Sir, we now know much more about the Mags behavior and their burgeoning skills. We have discovered that they are far from stupid. They have already learned how to use knives, machetes, and the bow. They also outnumber our force by a factor of nearly five-hundred to one. This will, of course, be pared down a bit by the civilian defense forces which are growing each day. Still, the numbers are staggering. My biggest fear is that the Mags will learn how to use firearms.”

  The President interrupted, “Hank, guns? Really?”

  “Sir, I don’t care how farfetched that may sound, it doesn’t change the simple fact that they may well acquire that ability. These creatures are learning and adapting. Without our opposition, it may have taken them forty-thousand years to achieve a level of technology equal to ours, but with that technology on display, their progress is, well, sir, it's frantic.

  “Currently, our estimate on eliminating the Mags in North America is daunting in the extreme. Just eliminating them here in the U.S. could take years. Canada, Mexico, well, maybe the Intel Briefer can shed some light on that.”

  General Morse then turned the continuing military portion of the briefing over to Admiral Huxley.

  “Mr. President, our ocean-going Navy, sans Subs, are now in ports, and, well, sir, there just aren’t sufficient personnel to operate them, much less maintain anything larger than
a coastal patrol.”

  Rudely, the FEMA Director, Mr. Norman Freeman, interrupted, “Admiral, why can’t you simply combine the survivors from other ships to crew, at least, some of our capital ships; if we need them, that is.” His words came out as though he was speaking to a petulant child.

  Admiral Huxley was neither intimidated nor was he pleased with the insolent tone of Freeman. In response, Huxley said, “Freeman, I suppose that you would like cooks or perhaps the laundry detail running the critical departments aboard an Aircraft Carrier. Dear God, you are such an idiot!”

  The Chief of Staff intervened before things got out of hand. “Gentlemen, we are all under a great deal of stress here, so let’s all just take a deep breath and bring the animosity down a few notches.”

  Mr. Freeman started to rise from his chair in an effort to gain the upper hand in case things did get out of hand. Before he got more than six inches, Admiral Huxley said, “Freeman, do you think you would make it out of that chair before I put you in the ground?”

  Then turning to President Vance, the Admiral said, “Mr. President, please accept my apologies for my outburst. I assure you that such an incident will not repeat itself.”

  Freeman said, “I also regret my actions.” There was no apology in his statement, but it did calm things down just a bit.

  The President simply shook his head before saying, “All right, can we please get on with the briefing?”

  “Yes, sir, of course. The Space Force will attain Mars Orbit on or about April 25th. Admiral Perry informs me that the plan is to present your special orders to the Colonial Governor on the following day. Once that meeting is concluded, Mars will no longer be a Colony; they will be a full-fledged independent Republic. Mr. President, this concludes my portion of the briefing.”

  Vance Holcomb thanked General Morse, and Admiral Huxley then turned his attention to the CDC.

 

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