Red Alert- Missles Inbound

by Cliff Deane

  “A mutiny?” asked the President.

  “Yes, ma’am, but not a mutiny in the historical lexicon. The Captain’s last words came as he and his Bridge Crew were fighting for their lives. He shouted that Cavemen were attacking and killing the crew. In his final communication, many loud grunts could be heard as the fight raged on the bridge. His final act was to go to full thrust and alter course thirty-eight degrees from the ecliptic and out of the Solar System.”

  CDC asked to speak.

  “Yes, please,” said the President, “I hope you can shed some light on this.”

  “Madame President, at this point I only have questions. Admiral, you said Cavemen?”

  “That is what Captain Ward reported, He said, Cavemen with square heads, low brows, and squared eye sockets. The recording contains several, aggressive sounding grunts and angry roars, along with the shouts of the Bridge Crew. We can only assume that upon assuming command of the Astrid, Captain Ward had been brought in on the utilization of the Thirty-Eight Protocol and that he initiated it. The three vessels then turned, as one, changing course to thirty-eight degrees from the ecliptic and going to full thrust. Captain Ward was a very brave man.”

  General Howard asked, “Well, by making the move at thirty-eight degrees from the ecliptic we know that he did, indeed, initiate the protocol. In two years, those ships will dive into the sun.”

  NASA said, “The Captain had only a few moments to contemplate this move, so it must have been put into action quickly. Our people are searching for answers as to what they were facing.”

  “Tyler,” asked the President, “can we be sure this flu came from Holly Thorne?”

  “At this moment, Madame President, I can only offer a supposition, no wait, no more disclaimers. Yes, I believe it gained entry into the spacecraft via the hull breaches. The remaining seven vessels of Taffy III have not been affected by any illness. This certainly gives us one additional bit of evidence that the infection resulted from the hull breaches.

  “In 1918, just following the 1st World War, the flu epidemic, later named the Spanish Flu (H1N1) erupted in a worldwide pandemic that took as many as one-hundred million lives.

  “Now, the name Spanish Flu is a misnomer, because this pandemic did not start in Spain. Instead, it began all over the world at the same time. No medical researcher has ever been able to explain how this could happen, perhaps today, but not in 1918. Of note, here, is that just before that outbreak the Earth passed through the tail of a comet, so yes ma’am, I believe Holly Thorne is the only viable suspect at this point.”

  Eileen steepled her fingers under her chin, tapping the index fingers together as she sat for several seconds in deep thought. Raising her head, she asked, “Gordon, you say we’ll spend four days passing through the tail of Holly Thorne?”

  “Yes, ma’am, and if CDC is correct, we could be, well, we, we could be facing an Extinction Level Event, an E.L.E. If that virus came through the holes in the ship’s hulls, then we will become infected as we pass through the comet’s tail.”

  General Howard said, “I don’t see how that is possible, even if half of our population does turn into Zombies…”

  “Sorry, General, but the term used by Captain Ward was Cavemen, not Zombies. If these Cavemen were our latest ancestral cousin, they are known to us as Cro-Magnon Man.”

  Frustrated, General Howard said, “Toe may-toe, toe-mah-toe, our military can handle a bunch of Cro-Magnon Cave dwellers.”

  Tyler, from CDC, said, “Okay, let’s talk this through. Captain King said that 100% of his crews were infected and that 75% died; that’s eight-thousand dead on each ship. Of the survivors, 50% turned into these Cavemen. Let’s give them a name, I suggest Mags, as in Cro-Magnon.

  “So, if 75% of the Earth’s population dies, and 50% of the survivors become Mags, then we have a healthy population of 12.5%. The deaths of 75% of the human population will, at the very least, end modern civilization as we know and understand it. Add to this that one-half of the surviving population intends to kill us, I have to think that even if modern Man can defeat the Mags, our nation will not survive, no nation will survive. General, I suppose that you could be right, this may, or may not, be an E.L.E. but it will still bring civilization crashing down around us.”

  General Howard snorted as he added, “Harrumph, our modern weapons in the hands of the surviving military will make minced meat of these Mags.”

  President Greene said, “General if your military is drawn down to only 12.5% of current strength, I wonder how they will do in the first moments of being attacked by Mags? The military will not have weapons.

  “I also wonder how we will feed your remaining military? How will we feed one-hundred thousand troops scattered all over the country when the distribution of food, hell, distribution of everything just stops? Tyler, you were rather specific about defining these Mags as Cro-Magnon. What led you to that conclusion?” asked President Greene.

  “Yes, of course, Madame President, considering the minimal information of this disease and its after-effects what I am about to say is pure speculation. I do, however, believe that it may have merit. I suspect this is the case from the description, specifically of the squared eye sockets.

  “It would seem that we have a disease which, in fifty percent of the survivors, alters the human appearance down to the molecular level. This would explain why the soon to be Mags went into hiding four days after their recovery. Their time in hiding allowed the transformation to take place without hindrance from any medical person, or their shipmates.

  “I use the term Cro-Magnon because they are our nearest relative on the evolutionary path to us. Cro-Magnon Man remains were first found in France. The property owner was named Magnon, and so the remains became Cro-Magnon.

  “Research on these modern humans indicates that they arrived in Western Europe around forty-thousand years ago. They invaded the lands which had been occupied by a group called the Neanderthal, for nearly one-hundred-thousand years. Many researchers believe that Cro-Magnon Man was one of the critical factors in the elimination of the Neanderthal.

  “I, therefore, have really gone out on a limb and have hypothesized that as an invader, the Mags, were aggressive. Mags stood around five feet ten inches in height, with a low brow and a somewhat square head, even their eye sockets were squared. They were heavily built, very strong and, we believe, very fast. This description, especially of square eye sockets is the guiding factor in my recommendation to call them Mags.

  “They were thinkers and inventors that primarily hunted large game, like Mammoths, Cave Bears and the like. To level the playing ground with their larger and stronger prey, Mags invented the spear thrower…”

  “Spear thrower!” said a scornful General Howard, “Spear thrower, and you wonder if even a small modern military force would have difficulty in destroying them? Please!”

  Tyler looked at Howard and said, “General, these spear throwers could launch spears at speeds approaching ninety miles per hour. These spear throwers you so casually dismiss took down Mammoths, Cave Bears, and Lions that stood taller than you at the shoulder.

  “Tactically, you are right, Mags would have no chance against a well-armed military, but, sir, these Mags will not all be facing your soldiers, they will be spread all over the hemisphere, and it is likely that they will quickly begin to eliminate competition… us. I fully realize that the US has a plethora of weapons available to the populace, but in the initial stages of this war to come, the Mags will strike before Man can become organized to fight them.

  “As soon as the Mags come out of hiding, they will come out to fight, and to make matters even worse, we can’t warn the survivors of the coming of the Mags and their potentially primal urge to eliminate all competition.

  “The initial arrival of Mags could number as many as forty-five million, and they will all arrive at about the same time. If we extrapolate what we heard from the Astrid broadcasts, the Mags will come out swinging for the fences.”


  General Howard looked back at CDC and said, “Oh, shit! Oh, sorry Madame President. I apologize for my language.”

  President Greene’s face was pale as she looked back at the general as she said, “You took the words right out of my mouth. Oh shit, indeed.”

  Then turning back to Tyler, she said, “Tyler, I do not like this scenario. Is there anything the CDC can do? Can we begin an inoculation program for flu shots?”

  “Madame President,” said Tyler, “We have neither a serum prepared, nor even an earnest idea whether this bug really is a flu strain, and we can’t even begin to look for a cure until the virus strikes so that we have a sample.

  “With your permission, ma’am, I will immediately call in the entire CDC, along with the Fort Detrick folks and secure them in our upgraded level 5 labs. If we are very lucky, these researchers will remain uninfected and can begin working on a cure the moment people begin to get sick.

  “But, Madame President, this is probably just pie in the sky, but it is the only option that I can imagine at this point.”

  “Why is your suggestion pie in the sky, Tyler?” asked Eileen.

  Tyler produced a somewhat sick smile, and said, “Because everyone will get sick at the same time, and by the time we get started, well, this plan has so many holes, but it is the only plan we have. I would also suggest that no later than 3 March you take the Rangers into the continuity of government bunkers. You’ll also need to take in their families.”

  “All right, Tyler, but what do we do for the people of our nation? There must be something?”

  The Chief of Staff lowered his head and in a low, sad voice, hardly above a whisper said, “It’s too late, isn’t it?”

  No one spoke as the realization that, it was, in point of fact, too late, and to make this horror story public would only bring on additional tragedy on a global scale. The veneer of civilization would immediately be stripped away. The moral shackles of civility would be gone in an instant. No, just pretend that all is well and let the chips fall where they may.

  General Howard finally said, “Madame President, you will be moving to the Mount Weather Facility on 3 March.”

  Ladies and Gentlemen,” said General Triple H Howard, “I give each of you fair warning that I swear before the Lord God Jehovah that I will personally shoot anyone who leaks this info. Are we clear? No leaks, not to anyone, no exceptions. If you think I am just being overly dramatic, you are sadly mistaken. Speak about this, and you will die.”

  President Greene said, “Congress, General?”

  “Especially the Legislative Branch, ma’am, to have even a remote possibility of saving something of our Republic, you must not bring Congress or the Senate in. When the opportunity arises, you must rule, with only your VPOTUS. There will be no survival if the Legislative Branch continues its bickering and inaction. Besides, there will be no states remaining for them to represent.”

  “Triple H, put your plan into operation. We’ll put it out that everyone is being called in to study the tail’s impact on our atmosphere and the debris fields.”

  Admiral Perry asked to speak, “Madame President, I understand that cold fusion has not, to this point, created any dangerous side effects, such as radiation. Yet, I must, in the strongest terms possible submit that we must immediately begin shutting down all cold fusion power plants. With your permission, I will order the immediate shutdown of all cold fusion powered vessels, with the exception of our submarine forces. I will direct them to find deep water and bottom their boats. Once the crap hits the proverbial fan, they will be notified to remain submerged for a minimum of two years. All of our subs are provisioned up to four years. Hopefully, by that time the strain will have died out, and our submarine service will be able to assist in recovery efforts.

  “Our Space Defense Force will begin the immediate transition, with families, to Red Sands. I suggest we tell the media that we are planning deep space exercises lasting for up to two years. This will explain why we are taking the spacer’s families.”

  “Good thinking, Admiral, make it happen. My friends, we have one week to get the preparations completed, and those selected will depart at times allowing for arrival no later than two hours before Holly Thorne’s tail bites us in the ass.”

  Almost as an afterthought, President Greene asked for both her Chief of Staff and Admiral Perry to remain after the meeting.” Before the meeting, Greene and the COS discussed a new role for Vice Admiral Perry.

  With the other Comet Committee members gone, Eileen said, “Dolph, I have a special mission for you.”

  “Yes, ma’am, of course. How may I be of assistance?”

  “Dolph, you will not be accompanying me to Mount Weather. Instead, I am reassigning you as the Supreme Commander of the Red Sands, Mars USSDF Headquarters. You are also promoted to the five-star rank of Fleet Admiral. My friend, I am terribly sorry that this promotion could not be a grand occasion, but I’m sure you realize that is not possible.

  “You will also carry with you documents which will grant complete nationhood to Red Sands. You will also turn over all of the USSDF vessels to the new government on Mars. Please do not release these documents until we are sure that the Earth does indeed fall into complete anarchy.

  “You are also being entrusted with the original, and several copies of the Constitution. It is my hope that Red Sands will find them useful. There are a number of other things to be sent with you for safe keeping.

  “You and your immediate staff will be taken to the Washington Space Elevator for transit to our Space Station. There you will assume command of the transport vessels. Coordinate with Admiral King to a rendezvous where you are to assume overall command of Taffy III. The three remaining Cruisers will follow on 5 March to join you on Mars. You must also integrate any and all space going vessels, from whatever nation.

  “Dolph, I will miss you, and I wish you well. You must succeed. Failure is not an option. Are we clear?”

  “Yes, Madame President,” said a sad and suddenly weary Fleet Admiral Adolphus Perry. “When should I plan to leave?”

  The Chief of Staff said, “Dolph, go home, pack your necessary items and get you and your family to the Elevator. Your staff is being rounded up as we speak. Time is of the essence, my friend.” The President and her COS began standing. Once all three were on their feet, the COS shook hands with the first Fleet Admiral since 1946. President Eileen N. Greene gave Dolph a hug and a kiss on the cheek for luck. Goodbyes were completed, and Dolph was driven to his quarters.

  On the ride home, Dolph and Sky, using their AIs, discussed the meeting and before Sky could ask, Dolph told him that Hermie would see him soon.

  Sky said, “Well, Fleet Admiral, you, my friend, have your work cut out for you. How may I help?”

  “I am so glad you asked, Vice Admiral King, because we have our work cut out for us. Civilization must continue and one day return it to Earth,” said Dolph.

  For the next three days, preparations went well. The media bought the story of studying the atmospheric effects of Holly Thorne, and the transition of the SDF to Mars, along with their families.

  27 February 2116, AD 1500

  Paleontology Department

  West Virginia University

  Morgantown, WV

  Thirty-eight-year-old Professor Jacob Abraham sat at his desk reviewing applications from students desirous of joining him on a newly approved dig in Moundsville, WV.

  His expectation had been ten to twelve volunteers seeking experience in both archaeology and paleontology. Jakob’s eyes ached from reviewing the twenty-eight applications now in front of him. Two of the apps were from Pitt, well, there were two he could reject. The rivalry between WVU and Pitt made for a mixture of gasoline and water

  Once Professor Abraham had settled on interviewing twenty-seven applications for the twenty-two positions. Scheduling interviews for these eager beavers sounded simple. Simple, until class schedules of both Professorial and Student class loads inevit
ably threw a monkey wrench into the equation. Jake sent emails to each of the student volunteers chosen for an interview, then sat back and awaited their responses.

  Jake was pleasantly surprised to see the results of his email. Within minutes the requests for interviews flooded his inbox. Even more surprising were the responses which indicated that they would come at the time specified by Professor Abraham. He quickly began sending interview times.

  Jake felt a bit under the gun, as the dig was to begin on March 6, 2018. Everything else was ready, packed, and loaded on the eight pick-up trucks, along with one eight-passenger mini-bus, which he would drive.

  As Jake was about to call it quits for the day, he heard a knock on his Office Door. “Come on in,” he shouted at the door.

  As the door opened Jake saw that it was the student he had selected for the paid position on his dig, Gale Storm. Jake didn’t see her walk, to his eyes she swam into the room.

  “Well, hello Miss Storm, did you receive my email?” Try as he might he could not take his eyes completely away from the exotic face of Gale Storm. There was nothing in the way of classic beauty in this self-assured, tall, lanky woman. Jake tried to come up with a description of what made her so attractive to him, and the only word that seemed to fit was exotic.

  Professor Abraham had not once done more than admire a lovely student, but Gale Storm was different. Gale was somehow different, and Jake was smitten. Shit, thought Jake.

  “Please, Miss Storm, have a seat.”

  “Thank you, sir, I did receive your email, and since I was in the building, I thought I would stop by before heading off to work.”

  Jake felt an immediate dismay, that wasn’t entirely professional. “Oh, you already have a job. I see. Are you here to tell me that you won’t be able to join the dig?” Jake hoped his disappointment wasn’t betrayed by his voice or eyes.