Confrontation

by William Hayashi

  “The military is on high alert, but there have been no orders for any attack. Military communications between the facilities housing their gravitational detectors and AWACS aircraft have been activated, as have the White House Presidential Emergency Operations Center (PEOC) and the offsite shelters for top-tier government functionaries. Standby … allies of the United States are contacting the White House inquiring about the increased military alert status. The White House is—I believe the phrase is—stonewalling.”

  Chuck directed G2 to keep the other two ships notified of all the information as it was received. He also brought the ships up to a speed that would have them above the North Pole within two hours.

  In the whale, Lucius had the ground team check communications and inspect all the scuba gear. Once he was satisfied, they sealed all their electronic equipment in a waterproof container and strapped in.

  The time passed quickly as they watched Earth growing larger in the view ports.

  Chuck slowed their forward progress just before he entered the atmosphere above the Pole.

  “Everyone ready?” he radioed.

  “All set,” replied Sondra.

  “Let’s get this show on the road, Lucius isn’t getting any younger,” said Todd to laughs in the background.

  Chuck replied, “Here we go!”

  * * *

  “Dr. Harris to monitoring, Dr. Harris to monitoring!” came the announcement over the intercom at Shelter 14.

  Martin didn’t hear the announcement, as it was just after 11:00 P.M. and he had already gone to bed. But he did hear the phone buzzing across the room just as an excited knocking started on his door.

  Deciding that of the two, the phone could wait, he stumbled to the door, opened it and winced as the light assaulted his sleepy eyes. Standing outside was a woman in uniform.

  “Let me guess, corporal. I’m wanted in monitoring.”

  “Correct, sir. As soon as you’re ready, I’m to escort you there,” she said, gesturing to his boxers and t-shirt.

  “Right, come in,” he said absently.

  “I’ll just wait for you outside, sir,” she said, winking.

  “What? Oh, right.”

  He closed the door, and got dressed. He splashed cold water on his face and combed his hair. Then, looking at the ghastly visage peering back at him in the harsh light of the bathroom mirror, he tossed the comb on the counter and made his way to the door.

  Once in the corridor he asked, “Do you have any idea what I’m walking into, corporal?”

  “No, sir. However, the base has been put on alert status and the complex above is flushing all nonessential personnel and civilians off campus, sir.”

  Martin knew asking her to can the “sir” business was a waste of time as he hurried along to the navy’s monitoring center, almost at a run keeping up with her.

  When he arrived, he was surprised to see two armed guards stationed outside the door. Both nodded to him as he swiped his ID card to get inside.

  “Commander,” he greeted the watch officer.

  “Doctor. As I’m sure you’ve guessed, we have the inbound bogie leaving the L4 LaGrange point on its way here.”

  “What’s its estimated time of arrival?” “Martin inquired.

  “If it keeps to its current speed, less than two hours.”

  “Jesus! That’s over a hundred thousand miles an hour. Any eyes on the spacecraft yet?”

  “Nothing specific. It’s damn hard to see, they say it’s painted dark,” the commander replied.

  “So this is the same bogie that left the colony a few weeks ago?” asked Martin.

  “It is, sir. There’s been no other activity that we’ve seen coming from that direction. Interesting that Jove also just arrived on station at the colony, is it not?”

  Martin replied, “Interesting doesn’t begin to cover it, and I don’t believe in coincidences either. What’s the word from NORAD, are they scrambling fighters to try to intercept and shoot down the ship if it enters U.S. airspace?”

  “Believe it or not, our forces are on ‘weapons hold.’”

  “Get out! What’s that all about? What ever happened to the good old ‘shoot first, ask questions later?’”

  “You got me, doc. Maybe they have plans to try to capture the ship, the commander replied.

  “I wonder if the ship’s been in contact with the White House and has safe passage somewhere? Hell, stranger things have happened.”

  “Doubtful, doctor. Everyone on the planet would give their eyeteeth to get their hands on one of the separatist ships, and so would you. I know our guys in research and development are no closer to the kind of gravity technologies those people have than you are. Sorry to say,” he said.

  “That’s true. But what I’m afraid of is some military asshole, no offense meant—”

  “None taken.”

  “—weaponizing gravity-based technologies,” Martin finished.

  “I get what you’re saying. It doesn’t matter what everyone’s good intentions are, if there’s a way to kill or destroy more efficiently with some new discovery, some new principle, someone’s going to turn it into a weapon.”

  “Actually, as much as I would love to find out how they do it—manipulate gravity I mean—I’m afraid of what we’d do with the discovery. So, let me guess, I’m here because you wanted someone to chat with while we wait for something to happen?” Martin asked.

  “I was informed by a Captain Ames once we sent out the alert that your presence would be essential, sir.

  “I don’t know about all that. Is there coffee?”

  “Chief, would you please fetch coffee for the doctor?”

  “Right away, sir. Black, doctor?” The chief asked, getting out of his chair.

  “Black is fine.”

  “Belay that, Chief. Please call the commissary and have an urn prepared for us down here. Hungry, doctor?”

  “No, I just woke up. Coffee would be good though.”

  “Very well, commander,” the chief said, leaving the monitoring center.

  Martin took a moment to look around and saw that all but two computer workstations were occupied. The large screens hung around the room were displaying a graphic of near-earth space, showing the inbound spacecraft as a red diamond with scrolling figures counting down the distance from Earth’s surface.

  He sat down at one of the open workstations and pulled up the display on one screen while he opened a second window to playback the recording of the spacecraft’s early path from the LaGrange point to Earth on the other.

  Martin opened another window and went to the Jove mission page on the NASA Web site to see what had been posted so far. The mission status page indicated that the spacecraft had matched orbit with the colony and that they were in the shutdown and inspection phase of the mission. There was nothing to suggest that the separatists had made any effort to contact the ship, although Martin was sure that sort of data would be withheld until the proper authorities had vetted it.

  * * *

  President Laughlin was taking a few moments for some late-night reading in the family quarters of the White House when there was a knock on the sitting room door.

  “Time to relocate to the bunker, Mr. President,” announced Agent Andrews.

  “Very well, Tim. Has word gone out to everyone else?” the president inquired.

  “Yes, but everyone’s on hold until you leave first,” Andrews pointedly reminded him.

  “Gotcha,” Laughlin said, getting to his feet.

  He was escorted to the elevator and then deep under the White House to the hardened command bunker. Once there, instead of adjourning to his office, he chose instead to plant himself in the glass-walled conference room overlooking the center’s huge screens and operations consoles.

  The track of the incoming ship was in t
he center of the screen with the panels surrounding it displaying the various stages of readiness of the other branches of the military.

  Laughlin pressed the intercom button to the console room.

  “Yes, Mr. President?” a voice responded.

  “With whom am I speaking?” he asked.

  “Colonel Sharp, Mr. President. How may I help you?”

  “Anything other than what’s on the board, what’s been going on?”

  “Nothing sir. They paused over the North Pole a few minutes ago—hang on. There they go!”

  Laughlin looked up at the display to see that the ship was descending toward the North Pole ice pack. The ship leveled off at fifty thousand feet and began to head south toward Canada.

  “Mr. President, the air force has dispatched fighters in a picket line along our northern border. Do your orders for ‘weapons hold’ still stand?”

  “That is correct. They may try an intercept, even forcing the ship to the ground, but under no circumstances are weapons to be fired toward that ship.”

  “What if the ship fires first?”

  “You heard me, colonel. I don’t have to remind you that the Jove mission is sitting a hundred miles off the separatist habitat, do I?”

  “No sir. Weapons hold, Mr. President,” the Colonel confirmed.

  * * *

  “Fighters ahead, Chuck. They are spread fairly thin. It appears that we can slip through over Lake Superior as planned.” The A.I. put up a map on Chuck’s screen with a track to follow.

  “Is everyone ready?” Chuck radioed to the other ships.

  “Cookin’,” Todd replied.

  “Ready to release on your mark, Chuck,” said Sondra.

  The connected spacecraft bore in over the black water of Lake Superior.

  After a few moments, Chuck angled slightly east to bring them closer to the center line of Lake Michigan.

  “Two fighters angling in behind this ship. No radar or heat signature lock on this craft,” G2 reported. “Two fighters crossing ahead east to west at forty thousand feet, their course is unchanged.”

  “Two minutes until disconnect,” Chuck announced. “They can’t see us in the dark. They have to be using that detector tracking the G-waves. I think we’re good to go.”

  Sondra replied, “Standing by.”

  Chuck dropped them even lower, only a thousand feet over the water, confident that there was nothing in the area that he would bump into in the dark.

  “G2, is there anything ahead of us?” Chuck asked.

  “A total of twelve fighters are closing in on this craft now that forward velocity has been reduced. The two behind have closed to less than ten miles, no track on this craft at this time.”

  “Have the orders for weapons hold been changed?”

  “Negative. The fighters are allowed only to try to escort you to the ground. The president has ordered that under no circumstances are any weapons to be fired at this craft.”

  “Thirty seconds, everyone. Dropping down to one hundred feet,” Chuck radioed.

  “Good luck, Chuck. You too, Todd,” Sondra radioed. “Standing by.”

  Moments later, as the lights of Chicago spread out ahead, Chuck said, “Here we go, in five … four … three … two … one, disengage!”

  The three spacecraft separated, with the whale immediately dropping to within a few feet over the water, then slipping into the lake without a telltale splash, while Chuck and Todd rose to fifty thousand feet, taking off east and west.

  Moments later the fighters in the area also rose and began to try to acquire the spacecraft visually.

  Everyone in the whale had unconsciously braced themselves for the impact with the water, only to find that Sondra had stopped before they hit.

  “How far from the shore are we, G2” Sondra asked.

  “Six and a half miles.”

  “Okay, not too far. And the depth here is seventy-five feet. It’s perfect. Julius, deploy the anchors,” she said as the whale bobbed in the water, only the top two feet of the massive spacecraft above the surface.

  “Anchors deployed. Okay, one’s secure. Second one is … there it is, it’s anchored,” Julius announced.

  “Okay, pull us under,” Sondra told him.

  The whale began to sink below the surface, the lights of the city disappearing as everything outside the window went black.

  “Passing twenty feet, anchors holding,” Julius reported. Moments later he announced, “Fifty feet.”

  “Slowing. It looks like it’s a little uneven down here. Okay, here we are. I have us about three feet above the silt. Welcome to earth!” Julius announced.

  The rest cheered and unstrapped from their seats, clapping each other on the back.

  “Anyone in the neighborhood, G2?” Sondra asked, while shutting down all nonessential systems.

  “Negative. I’m still in contact with Chuck and Todd’s jumpers. The pursuit is closing but they have both increased their speed to Mach 3. It appears from military channels that the subterfuge has succeeded. There are no military aircraft in the area, and so far, no one has reported seeing this craft land.”

  “Thank you, G2. Okay everyone, into your scuba gear, you’ve got over a six-mile swim ahead of you. And like Chuck said, Lena, do your best to keep these reprobates in line. I’ll be available twenty-four/seven if you need a quick pickup. Lucius, good luck.”

  The five dressed in under ten minutes, and moved their two watertight containers next to the airlock. Julius brought out four small underwater propulsion units to save time on the swim and clipped them to the sides of the containers.

  “Everyone ready?” Sondra asked.

  “Okay, we’re in seventy feet of water. Your ears may pop once the airlock fills up and equalizes, just squeeze your nostrils and blow gently. Once you get out of the airlock, head to the surface. We won’t be under long enough for you to have to worry about decompression. Everyone wait on the surface until I get there with the containers. Once we get situated, G2 will lead us in the right direction. There’s an old boat landing where we can leave the water without being seen and change clothes. From there we’re a mile and a half from the warehouse,” Julius said, double-checking the map on the copilot screen

  Sondra and Julius checked the ground team’s gear, then Lucius and Neil entered the airlock. When it closed, Sondra triggered the lock and let the water fill it. When the pressure was equalized, she triggered the outer door to open. When they heard three knocks on the hull, she closed the outer door and cycled the lock and opened the inner door. Then Lena and Albert entered. Sondra cycled them through and reset for Julius and the two containers. After he dragged the containers into the lock, Sondra got up to give him a big hug and a long kiss.

  “Be careful up there. I really don’t want to have a reason to have to come get you guys. I’m going to miss you,” she said.

  “Me too, sweetheart. But when I come back I’m going to have quite the surprise for you,” Julius promised. He entered the airlock, pulled on his mask and waved at Sondra through the closing door. When she heard him bang on the hull she cycled the lock, then went to inspect the hold for leakage.

  She was sad at the unaccustomed silence in the whale’s crew compartment. She went around picking up stray clothes and personal items strewn about that the crew had brought along to occupy their time in transit. And though they didn’t have any real privacy on the trip to Earth, she and Julius were just happy to have been chosen for the mission together and wouldn’t be apart for its duration.

  Moments later she heard Julius over the radio, “Hey whale lady? You got your ears on?”

  She returned to the pilot’s seat and donned her headset.

  “Reading you loud and clear. How is it up there?”

  “It’s nice, a little humid, the water is chilly but the air temperature is a
bout seventy. And you know what, the air smells!” Julius radioed. “Everyone made it up okay. We’re about to trigger the propulsion units and head to shore. I’ll call you when we’re on land.”

  “Got it. Over and out. G2?”

  “Yes, Sondra. How may I be of assistance?”

  “Can you contact Chuck?”

  “One moment … Checking …”

  “Yes, Sondra? Did you get down okay?” came Chuck’s voice over the radio.

  “Yes, everything’s fine. Where are you? What’s going on?” she asked.

  “I’m playing tag with about six fighters, but I’m above their operational ceiling. I’m going to get down in the dirt near Baja and then motor north somewhere near San Diego. There’s so much traffic in that area even though they can see the G-waves in action, they’re not going to be able to easily pick me out,” he explained.

  “Hang on. G2, can you conference in Todd’s jumper?”

  “It sure can,” Todd answered immediately. “Hey, G2, how exactly are you managing the conference call?”

  “I have co-opted the military communications network to maintain contact with all the mission assets.”

  “Can they listen in on our transmissions?” asked Chuck.

  “They cannot. The transmissions are encrypted and digitally scrambled. The technology is not available to the United States military at this time.”

  “What the fu—. Then how can you do that?” Chuck asked, clearly confused.

  “Via a temporary software patch,” G2 replied.

  “Dude, bringing along a clone of Genesis was brilliant. I don’t see how we could have pulled this off without it,” Todd said.

  “It’s all part of the plan, my man. How’s the traffic in your neck of the woods?” Chuck asked.

  “Actually, G2 says that they’re just tailing me, I guess trying to see where I’m going. Hey, Chuck, where did Lucius get picked up last time? Maybe I’ll play around in the neighborhood and they’ll think we’ve got someone or some kind of installation around there.”

  “He was picked up outside of Boston harbor.”