by WADE, T I
The man nodded.
“My only son is now a top surgeon in Las Vegas,” Lieutenant Walls said slowly. “He is divorced, but has a ten year old boy, very clever, called Johnny. My wife died a couple of years ago. I’m an old man, been out of the military for two decades, and nearly 60, but my son asked me if there was ever a chance he could work with the famous Dr. Nancy Martin? And I’m around if you need extra security. We all would like to come with.”
Ryan nodded and replied kindly, “I think that a perfect outcome. We need your son, and oddly enough your grandson, due to so many girls being born in space, and I and Captain Pete would be honored to have you aboard. VIN, your approval as Head of Security will seal the deal?”
VIN respected the lieutenant, even though the man had confiscated his bottles of Budweiser on VIN’s first visit to the base thirteen years ago, and nodded. The lieutenant was certainly a man he could work with.
“You keep our secret, and you come with us, Lieutenant. We leave shortly, so get your son and grandson here. Once on base, they will not leave again. Use a secure line, one of our prepaid cell phones I ordered. Check it for bugs first. Invite them to come and visit you, say, in the town to the north. We cannot let them know until they are here. You have 48 hours.”
The man nodded and left.
Chapter 2
Aggression from Washington
The peace at the base in Nevada didn’t last long. It was 48 hours after the shuttle had landed when the radio woke up and two F-22s screamed overhead.
Then came the call from Air Force One. “Alpha Foxtrot One to Richmond Base, we are 20 minutes out, incoming from the east. Two aircraft. Request permission to land, over.”
Within a minute Ryan was on the radio. He had been deciding what to take on the first load in his secret underground stash, each item checked in case they had been bugged. Several dozen of the largest diamonds from Asteroid DX2014 eleven years earlier were to be placed in crates for loading first. Between them, they were still worth billions.
Ryan had been on the phone to Tesla headquarters and had ordered a dozen more of the latest batteries and electronics. Through the security personnel, he had heard that Tesla was still the most sophisticated vehicle system in the U.S. The vehicles’ range had increased by over double to nearly 1,200 miles thanks to fourth-generation lithium batteries and new developments. Cars now got a significant portion of their energy generated through solar and paint power.
One of the security guards, Sergeant Meyer himself, had purchased one of the latest cars a year earlier, and swore by its greatness. The security team, thanks to Ryan, weren’t poor anymore. They could afford most luxuries, and the sergeant had the latest model with all the options. He had not brought it with him, though; it was back in Seattle.
“Sure, there were copies of Tesla cars over the years,” Sergeant Meyers, a car enthusiast, told Ryan by the pool on his first evening, “but Tesla has put everything they learned from flying into space into their cars. The best invention for the last decade is solar panels on the roof and a new paint job. Martin Brusk reckons that the latest version of his car with its new paint coating has reduced wind drag to near zero, with a result in at least 20 percent more efficiency. In sunny areas like Nevada, the solar panels on the roof and the body’s latest nano-paint can be as high as 28 percent, but not as much where I live in the PNW. More around 22 percent on a cloudy day.”
Ryan was sure that this new technology could somehow be used on Mars, but he needed the best to stay ahead of the rest and that was why he had ordered Brusk’s latest batteries even before arriving back.
“Ryan Richmond to Air Force One,” replied Ryan, not bothering with the aircraft’s call sign. “You have permission to land, but if those fighter aircraft enter my private airspace again, as agreed with the American government, they will be no more than piles of burning rubble on the desert. Our lasers can hit any object larger than a shoe, so I suggest you get your drones, or whatever you have trying to get in close to us, away, or I will give orders to shoot them down.”
“Alpha Foxtrot One to Richmond Base, fifteen minutes to touchdown, out.”
Ryan noticed that the same old 747s came into sight east of the runway. These two were certainly getting old.
Captain Pete, high up in America One, had warned the base of their arrival thirty minutes before actual radio contact had been made. The lasers had easily seen the telltale heat signatures of the two jets, plus the signatures of the two Air Force Raptors out of a base in western Texas.
“Still using the old F-22 merchandise as well,” Allen Saunders had said to Ryan once they had been warned from above. Apart from about eighty military aircraft flights being monitored by America One along all four borders, it had seemed that air travel for the population was a thing of the past.
Lieutenant Walls had told them about the airlines with passengers aboard exploding while crossing the oceans, as far back as 2019. A year later they began exploding for no apparent reasons right over U.S. airspace. The airlines had gone out of business within 6 months. People now travelled by rail, or the road system if they needed to, and far fewer people traveled now as they mostly worked from home. Travel, for many, was a thing of the past. Nobody vacationed further than a few hundred miles from home, and seldom went abroad. Gasoline prices were very high, it was hard to find a station with fuel, and electric cars were the rage of the moment, if one could afford them for several years.
Bob Mathews and his two girls Beth and Monica had arrived a few hours before the radio message from Air Force One in an Australian civilian long-range jet. Captain Pete had made sure that the incoming plane had acceptance to enter U.S. airspace over Los Angeles, and he had followed it into Nevada, calling off the two Air Force jets trailing it. Bob looked older, his hair white, but he was tanned, slim and fit. His flight crew, still together, now spoke with the Australian twang known around the world.
The twang was another shock to the American doctors and staff working with the newcomers from space. Whatever they had been ordered to report, it was now impossible as every person who had returned from space now spoke a language that was totally foreign to them. The space travelers never said a word to them, apart from answering medical questions, and now there were a bunch of Aussies in Nevada. It was unheard of. They hadn’t seen so many travelers for close to a decade now.
Jonesy and Maggie were due to launch with a full cargo of alcohol and luxuries for America One within two hours, and Ryan put Jonesy and Maggie on hold for a day since they were about to be visited.
The two jets came in minutes apart, and after the usual security at the bottom of the aircraft stairs by half a dozen soldiers clambering out of the jets themselves, a civilian walked out of each of the aircraft and were welcomed by Ryan and his crew. The Dead Chicken still dwarfed these two government jets.
Because Ryan didn’t know who was who, he waited for the two men surrounded by security to come to him. Ryan, his pilots, and two security guards were all that welcomed the President and his Secretary of State to the airfield.
The new President looked younger than the previous Presidents. Ryan had begun to realize that he himself was starting to age, and this man, and the other man whoever he was, looked at least five years younger than he was, and they had both been in power for several years.
“Mr. Richmond, good to meet you. I recognize you from previous photos. I’m Joe Monson, Secretary of State. May I introduce you to President William Dithers, a great President; I believe our greatest President ever.” The President shook hands with Ryan and then Ryan shook hands with the man introducing them. Ryan then introduced each of his welcoming committee by name and former military rank.
“Mr. Richmond, it seems you are actually back on Earth again. We didn’t know whether you would have the temerity to return,” smiled the younger man.
“Just because I am down here, Mr. President, it doesn’t mean that my side is any weaker. We have dozens of lasers trained on the White H
ouse, the Pentagon, Capitol Hill, your Raptors flying just outside our private space, your own two aircraft, and the tops of yours and Mr. Monson’s heads,” Ryan lied, smiling.
“I’m sure you do. We are on a diplomatic mission, not about to start World War Four, Mr. Richmond. May we enter a building? It is hot out here, and the top of my head is beginning to itch.”
Ryan smiled and brought them to the same conference room where he had spoken to the last President, who hadn’t liked him either.
“So what can I do for you and the American government, Mr. President?” Ryan asked once soft drinks, coffee and snacks had arrived. The room had, on the Secretary of State’s insistence, been emptied apart from the three men. As usual, Ryan was wearing his usual thick, black-rimmed glasses for the meeting.
“You offered us compensation for allowing you to return to your base here in Nevada, Mr. Richmond,” the younger President began, like a similar adversary Ryan had dealt with a decade earlier.
“I would like to make it clear that you did not allow us. We returned to the area of the United States I own, and you had no choice in the matter, and still don’t, Mr. President. I am an American citizen, and this base was purchased outright and belongs to me. I keep my word; you will receive what I promised.”
“Unfortunately, Mr. Richmond, and this includes every one of your staff, or followers, or whatever you call your religious cult, your U.S. citizenship was revoked by my government seven years ago. You are now classed as an enemy of the state, and so is everyone who left Earth with you. Due to these changes, you automatically forfeited this land you purchased, and now you have desecrated an American building in Manhattan, New York by firing on it. Also, you have demolished defense buildings and equipment belonging to the American government, and we want compensation for your destruction to the tune of twenty billion dollars. I heard that you have that in cash in New York right now.” The President smiled at him.
“And the American Constitution, I would assume you cancelled that as well?” Ryan returned, getting angry.
“How I run this country is no concern of yours, Mr. Richmond. Everything my government does is for the betterment of the people, and only for the betterment of our people. The last dozen Presidents, from Nixon onwards, have used that reasoning. You are persona non grata in this country. So is your crew, and I want you out of here as soon as possible, or else.”
“Or else what, Mr. President? I’m holding the gun here, not you. Continue, and you will have no free home in Washington to go back to. I don’t give a damn about you or Monson here, or anybody in the U.S. government. If you won’t follow the Constitution, you are not legitimate. I don’t owe you, or your fake government a damn thing. I have come to take my belongings from, as you have just said, my foreclosed-on property. I am willing to compensate you for that service, but I will not be subjected to intimidation by you, or your armed forces. Do you understand that, Mr. President, or would you really like to see another demonstration of my power? Power you will not believe possible.”
Nothing was said for a few moments while the President and Monson sized up the situation.
“Okay, it seems we have a standoff here. I will allow you to take your things, your trinkets, out of the country, but I want something in return. If you and your entire crew want to stay in this great country, then I want two things.”
Ryan said nothing.
“Mr. Richmond, with this big so-called black magic trick you have up there, I want you to destroy the whole of China, its government, its infrastructure, its people, everything that moves in that country bigger than an ant. I want you to burn that country back to before the Stone Age. Secondly, I want you to do the same to Israel. Once you have completed these two tasks, only then will you be welcomed back as heroes and given the American rights you used to have. How does that sound to you, now a professional gunslinger, Mr. Ryan Richmond?”
“And if I have no interest in killing billions of innocent Chinese, or Israelis by the millions, what then, Mr. President?”
“Simple. You take your junk and get out of this country. Two C-5 loads only. Then you don’t ever return to the United States of America. You do not even return to Earth. Be warned, Richmond, even after you leave Earth, we will hound you, your sons and daughters and your entire cult or whatever you call yourselves until Earth boils over and the sun goes out. That, Mr. Richmond, is my promise to you from the United States government. I gave the orders to NASA, the NSA and the CIA just yesterday as a matter of fact. Even when you do head back into the hole you have dug yourself somewhere out there, I promise you, the government of this country is going to find you, and we will do to you what we did to Al Qaeda. We stopped them in their tracks. I cannot have any person more powerful than I am on this planet. And for your ears, Richmond, I don’t expect to leave office soon, if ever. New laws are about to be passed. Your return has put this country into a State of Emergency, and that could last a very long time. Under these new laws, the current government cannot be changed until the State of Emergency is lifted. You did me a great favor.”
“Do I have a while to think about your offer, Mr. President?” Ryan asked, buying time and actually beginning to look bored. He could see that his actions were angering both men. They were not used to being insulted by anybody.
“You have ten days to get your two flights out of here. I want an answer to both demands an hour before your C-5 heads out of American airspace on its second flight. If your answer is no, then I will give orders to blow that useless bird to kingdom come. Your spacecraft can’t carry much cargo. I’m sure just your crew and a few luxuries. Monson here believes that you wouldn’t bring your magic firepower down here, so we aren’t interested in how many flights you bring up into space. But once the C-5 is destroyed, everything we have down here will lift off to destroy whatever you have up there. Mark my words, Mr. Richmond, you don’t want to cross me. NASA and several other government agencies have a few tricks up our sleeves as much as you do. I just didn’t want our fancy new magic to be shown to our enemies here on Earth just yet. Get my drift? By the way, I want what you offered me and the American people to pay for your ten-day visa here.”
Ryan thought for a few seconds then replied, holding his temper in check.
“That is fair. I already have half a ton of pure platinum, the same in gold, a dozen or so large diamonds, and 150 pounds of rhodium and iridium down here ready for you. That I believe is what you came for, but you will get your treasure only after my first cargo flight leaves the country safely, not before.”
“And the rest?” asked the President without smiling.
“I did not state amounts, Mr. President, but I have 150 pounds of osmium for your country on my next descent from the mother ship, hence the delay in final supply. That is all I have for you.”
“But the last time, you imported tons of goods?”
“Yes, but we have not been asteroid mining as we did before we left. We have lived and survived on bare minimums, and we have offered supplies to other European Countries, and to Australia for their needs,” Ryan replied.
“I don’t give a damn about any other countries, Mr. Richmond, I want what you have,” the President said, now getting really angry.
“Well, I will judge what I give your country, Mr. President, as it’s not mine anymore. You should have thought about that angle when you revoked my citizenship. Of course, I would have been more willing to give my country of citizenship more of my valuable cargo. This is not my country anymore, as you so eloquently explained to me. When my first C-5 load lands in the Sahara, and on my new airstrip I am paying you for, only then will you get anything from me. I think we now understand each other, and I have work to do. You have overstayed your welcome here.”
Unhappy to be unceremoniously dismissed, the President with Monson behind him angrily stormed out of the room, and within minutes their blue and white 747s were taxiing for takeoff.
As with Ryan’s first program, he had bought time. It
was only a few days, and he would need to figure out what to do once the C-5 took off for its first flight.
Chapter 3
First Flight
All that night, Ryan and his crew of pilots and security worked out a plan of action to get everything he could out of the country, first in one flight, and if he had the chance, then in a second cargo load.
The only imports coming into the base apart from supplies of liquid hydrogen for the shuttle to use on launches were the latest batteries and electrical components from the car manufacturer, and one delivery truckload of the most modern computers, electrical gadgets and necessities. Igor had ordered them by phoning their supply companies from aboard America One weeks earlier, using ship-to-shore services to connect. They didn’t know the difference, or who was calling.
Ryan put a second call through to the car maker and offered twice the price for expediting the order. The head of the company, his old friend Martin Brusk, asked Ryan if he could deliver some lithium, osmium, iridium and palladium as payment. If he could supply the company with as much lithium as he could, and 100 pounds of any of the rare earth metals his production plant desperately needed, the order would be delivered within the week.
It wasn’t difficult to appease his old buddy, and the Tesla parts, all electrical components and fourth-generation lithium batteries destined for other customers, would be on their way within 48 hours, and the trucks would return with the promised goods.
There were hundreds of premade parts to manufacture new space shuttles and mining craft, including laser construction materials and all the older hydrogen and ion thrusters. All these parts he considered to be safer in his underground chamber here in Nevada than anywhere else on the planet. He had left, and they had scoured the base without finding his secret cavern the size of three Costco stores underneath his apron. The two Bradley fighting vehicles, ammo, and the two military jeeps he could use in the Sahara.
