Asteroid Destruction

by Bobby Akart

  He blinked several times and turned completely around in an effort to confirm it was all real. The searing pain from the simple movement convinced him he wasn’t dreaming.

  He adjusted the weight of Chief Rawlings’s body draped over his shoulder. Carrying the additional load made the task of walking through the thick undergrowth more difficult. After several laborious steps, he sadly realized he couldn’t attempt to bring the dead man out of the jungle.

  He surveyed his surroundings, looking for options. Off to the side, a large piece of the parachute that had deployed during the crash hung from a palm frond. It appeared sufficient enough to swaddle the smaller man’s body.

  Gunner spread out the parachute remnant and lovingly wrapped Chief’s body in it. Then he carried it away from the Starhopper, hoping that the anaconda would move on to another location, or meal.

  Satisfied that he was safe, but uncertain whether the parachute material would deter animals from feeding on the body, he placed Chief Rawlings well above ground on the slick outer shell of the Starhopper and said a brief prayer.

  With a sigh and a heavy heart, he stepped back onto the jungle floor and began walking through the flattened foliage. His first task was to find his duffle bag. It contained his lifeline to the world in the form of the satellite phone sent to him by Ghost while he was training in Houston’s Building 9. Whether operating on a hunch or out of an abundance of caution, Ghost had felt the need for Gunner to have the communications device. Like a talisman cherished for its good luck, the satellite phone might be the only thing that got Gunner home.

  Methodically, and taking every step forward under the assumption a dangerous creature was in his path, Gunner made his way through the dense underbrush that had been partially crushed to the jungle floor by the tumbling spacecraft. He was unsteady at first, but eventually found his Earth legs. Only a few days in space had caused his brain to think differently about mundane tasks like walking with the aid of gravity.

  Gunner stopped for a moment and frowned. There were so many questions swirling in his mind, but the suddenness of the crash clouded his thinking. He consciously shook his head in an effort to clear it of the clutter associated with his reentry into Earth’s atmosphere.

  With the resurgence of the jungle’s normal activities, Gunner became keenly aware of the threats his surroundings posed to him. He had to focus, or he could die.

  He moved slowly through the jungle, searching for the blue duffle bearing his name. He abruptly stopped when he heard the faint shifting of leaves and cracking of twigs to his left. Gunner lowered himself to a crouch. The animals of the jungle could be dangerous, but so could man.

  Not knowing where he was played a factor in his heightened state of awareness. His concerns weren’t for the indigenous tribes of the world’s remote jungles, such as the Pygmies of Central Africa or the Penan of Sarawak in Indonesia. He was more concerned with the Indonesian military, the rebels conducting guerilla warfare in the Congo, and the Colombian drug cartels. An American of Gunner’s stature would be considered a prized possession and garner a huge ransom.

  Gunner froze and listened. He called upon all of his senses to determine the location of the potential threat. He slowly scanned the terrain around him, looking for any signs of movement.

  Suddenly, several crimson-backed tanagers flew out of the underbrush near the palm trees to his left. A tapir, in this case a nursing sow followed closely by a pair of striped juveniles, emerged from the palm thicket. A tapir was a fairly large herbivore resembling a pig except it had a snout shaped like a shortened elephant trunk.

  He knew tapirs to be highly protective of their young and aggressive toward other animals, and humans, much the same way a wild hog was in Tate’s Hell Forest near Dog Island. Whether she was a mama grizzly, or a tapir that happened to be a nursing mother, Gunner had nothing to fight her off with if she came for him.

  He slowly inched backward, avoiding the large mammal’s path. She stuck her nose trunk in the air and smelled Gunner. She glanced at him and emitted a grunting sound, a warning to stay back or suffer the consequences.

  Gunner froze. Tapirs had a renowned unpredictability, and he didn’t want to make any sudden moves that might be seen as hostile toward her calves.

  The strong, rhino-like animal bared her teeth and uttered a long guttural sound. She turned toward Gunner and opened her mouth, emitting a hiss from the back of her throat. Her teeth were mostly intact, showing only a couple of broken chisel-shaped incisors. She lunged toward Gunner, snarling as she approached, before suddenly stopping. She was warning him off, ostensibly saying by her actions, I don’t want a fight, but I will if you don’t back away.

  Gunner obliged without hesitation, stepping back several paces and looking at the ground to avoid eye contact that might be viewed as a challenge.

  This appeared to satisfy the mother, who glanced back at her young and moved along. After the three-hundred-fifty-pound creature moseyed past, he continued on his quest for the duffle bag.

  From time to time, Gunner looked skyward, where a meteor would catch his eye. He tried to recall his briefings during training. It was his understanding that the remnants of the asteroid were expected to hit farther north. At least away from any known rainforests. He’d attempted to ditch the Starhopper in the Caribbean Sea and had obviously overshot his landing area. But in the confusion and chaos associated with navigating the spacecraft through battered satellites and space rocks crashing toward Earth at thirty thousand miles per hour, Gunner was beginning to question where he was.

  He needed to find some evidence of humanity, but as was always the case, he admonished himself to proceed with caution if, and when, he found someone.

  Chapter 4

  North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD)

  Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado

  Decades ago, during the Cold War, as nuclear threats loomed from Russia, and later Iran and North Korea, the United States created a series of fortified, state-of-the-art bunkers across the country. Part of the continuity-of-government plans, they were built to house the president and key officials of the government.

  Locations included Raven Rock Mountain in Pennsylvania, Peters Mountain in the heart of the Appalachian Mountains, and of course, the most well-known of them all—Cheyenne Mountain. Located outside Colorado Springs, the military’s North American Aerospace Defense Command, NORAD, was never kept secret from the public.

  NORAD included the command post responsible for defending both Canada and the U.S. from air attacks such as Russian bombers or North Korean missiles. The project started in the 1950s as our government tested nuclear weapons in the Pacific Ocean. The race with the old Soviet Union to obtain bigger and more powerful nuclear warheads led to a certain amount of fear and paranoia in Washington.

  Over time, our scientists began to learn the devastation that could be inflicted by a nuclear warhead carrying an electromagnetic pulse, commonly referred to as an EMP. An EMP, detonated at an altitude high enough over the United States, would send out a massive pulse of highly charged electrons. This burst of energy would overwhelm the electronics of America, causing computers to crash, critical infrastructure to fail, and have a devastating effect on the world economy.

  With this threat looming, Congress, and the president through executive action, established a continuity-of-government plan. There were specific procedures and protocols to be followed in a variety of catastrophic events. Whether a nuclear war, as was envisioned in the fifties, or in the case of a catastrophic global pandemic, as many feared today, Cheyenne Mountain was there to keep the U.S. government operating.

  Nature abhors a vacuum, as they say. For any government to function, the possibility of a vacant post or unfilled position at the highest levels of succession goes against the laws of physics and nature. More importantly, it goes against the laws of political power.

  The continuity-of-government plan was sound in principle, and Cheyenne Mountain, in addition to the other
facilities, insured the government would still be standing following the crisis.

  President Mack Watson had never visited the Cheyenne Mountain complex. Only a hundred days into his presidency, it hadn’t even crossed his mind. Yet here he was, facing an existential crisis that could mean the extinction of life on Earth.

  Colonel Travis Moreno, the Command Center deputy director for NORAD, walked with President Watson and his chief of staff, Maggie Fielding, the former U.S. Navy commander who was fiercely loyal to the president. Colonel Moreno commented on the facility as he led them to a conference room for the morning briefing.

  “Mr. President, while this facility was built in 1958, it’s still probably the safest place in the world. At seventy years old, Cheyenne Mountain is considered a wonder of technology and engineering.”

  The president studied the walls and ceiling as they walked. “This appears to be solid granite.”

  “That’s correct, sir. Tons upon tons of it. That in and of itself is sufficient to sustain almost any nuclear blast. In addition, the two blast doors that you entered the complex through last night weigh twenty-three tons, each.”

  “Amazing,” observed the president. “While my motorcade was paused inside, I turned to watch them close. It took less than a minute.”

  “Yes, sir, very efficient.”

  “What about these springs?” asked the president, pointing to large coils that were found intermittently along the walkway.

  “Sir, if there were an attempt to drop a nuke on Cheyenne Mountain, the force would have a kinetic effect upon any stationary structures. As a precaution, all of the buildings within the complex sit on these enormous springs. They’re designed to provide a cushioning effect from the shock of the blast, protecting the people and the electronics inside.”

  “America’s fortress,” added Fielding.

  “Yes, ma’am, that’s correct,” said Moreno. “Sitting two thousand feet below solid granite, hidden deep within the mountain, it was designed to withstand any type of threat.”

  “Including a massive asteroid?” President Watson asked the question that was on the mind of all seventy-two Americans who currently resided within Cheyenne Mountain.

  Moreno hesitated and then stopped to survey his surroundings. “Yes, sir. We believe so.”

  The president managed a smile and caught Fielding’s eye. He didn’t think she shared Moreno’s confidence, but this was their only option.

  “Colonel, let me ask you about the supplies,” the president began. “Based upon our current staffing levels and families, how long can Cheyenne Mountain remain self-sustainable?”

  “Sir, we have sufficient food, water, power, and sewage facilities to survive for an extended period of time.”

  “How long?” asked Fielding.

  “Eighteen months, ma’am.”

  “Air supply?” asked the president.

  Moreno nodded, appearing to understand the concerns of the president and chief of staff. “Sir, sometimes we refer to the complex as Mole City. Everything is self-contained. Including our air supply. You might notice there appears to be a slight breeze throughout the facility. It’s purposefully overpressurized so radioactive or bio-particles won’t seep inside.”

  “What about fuel to run the generators?” asked Fielding.

  “We have a variety of storage reservoirs carved into the mountain, ma’am,” replied Moreno. On average, we have six million gallons of water stored, which is replenished through our recycling processes, as well as half a million gallons of diesel fuel. The diesel is sufficient to run the six generators, supplemented by the ten-and-a-half megawatt power plant, for many years. In fact, the door entering the power control center is just ahead.”

  The three walked up a slight incline until they reached an oversized door. An inscription was carved into the granite.

  The president read it aloud. “Without power, it’s just a cave.”

  “That’s right, sir. But it’s more than a cave. It’s a place where we can ensure that the United States of America will continue to exist despite the threats she faces. That’s what we do here. For decades, the men and women of Cheyenne Mountain stay vigilant, preparing for the worst-case scenario. Frankly, if I were to list the top threats we anticipated facing—nuclear bombs, electromagnetic pulse weapons, solar flares, or a global pandemic—the concept of a direct hit by an asteroid seemed far-fetched. I would’ve ranked the eruption of the Yellowstone Caldera ahead of IM86.”

  “Yet here we are, right, Colonel?” asked the president.

  “Yes, sir.”

  The colonel led them through a set of double doors and up two levels of staircases. He continued the tour.

  “Spin classes? Really?” asked Fielding, pointing to a large workout room that, due to the circumstances, was empty.

  “Yes, ma’am. Exercise is critical for the full-time staff here at Cheyenne Mountain. We encourage people to spend at least an hour a day in the gym. The Peloton bikes are extremely popular.”

  “It’s empty today,” observed the president, before asking, “And why are they rearranging everything?”

  Moreno paused to explain. “Sir, on a normal day the gym would be full of our personnel doing cardio, lifting weights, or participating in a yoga class. But if there is a threat that requires a call to stations, especially something of this magnitude, this exercise room morphs into a hospital. These curtains along the windows can be pulled closed to create medical bays. If damage comes to the facility and our personnel are injured, um, frankly, we have to patch them up and get them back in the game. There’s no room for excess at Cheyenne Mountain, and that means people, too.”

  Fielding glanced at the president and grimaced. He knew what she was thinking before she spoke. He’d ordered her to bring her husband to Cheyenne Mountain, and she’d reluctantly complied.

  “Colonel, what about your families?” she asked.

  Moreno sighed. He began to describe his wife and family, who lived in nearby Colorado Springs. They’d come to accept the fact that his career required him to be here. “In case of an event, as we call it, they’re on their own. They know I have to be in the mountain to do my duty for my country. I love them dearly, but they understand the rules.”

  A wave of sadness overcame the president. The people who were assigned to Cheyenne Mountain left for work every day knowing if a catastrophic event befell America, the families and friends they left outside the blast doors could burn up in a nuclear explosion, succumb to a deadly pandemic, or suffer the wrath of the asteroid—IM86.

  Moreno continued along the hallways until they reached the conference room overlooking the operations center. This was the nerve center of NORAD, a place in which the airmen were typically focused on detecting and tracking incoming nuclear threats to the United States. Their task was to give the nation’s defense network the maximum response time available to counteract nuclear missiles fired by North Korea, Russia, China and, now, Iran.

  There was not, however, a defense against the onslaught of space rocks headed toward Earth.

  “Here we are,” announced Moreno as he led the president and his chief of staff into the glass-enclosed conference room. The president’s national security team, as well as scientists from NASA and the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, awaited him. “Mr. President, we refer to this room as the battle cab. It’s a dedicated command center and meeting room for your use and senior members of your team. It’s also available to our personnel to provide you briefings or continuous updates. Sir, the operations center to our right is akin to the brain stem. Information is gathered from a variety of resources around the globe, both terrestrial and from low-Earth orbit satellites. Once the data is gathered and analyzed, it comes here. To the battle cab, which is, for all intents and purposes, the brain of Cheyenne Mountain in a time of crisis. We will give you all the information available to make an informed decision on any issue.”

  The president smiled, thanked Colonel Moreno and dismissed him. He took a deep
breath and turned to his chief of staff. “Well, it’s time to hitch ’em up.”

  Fielding smiled in return. “Consider them hitched, sir.”

  Chapter 5

  NORAD

  Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado

  The president entered the battle cab, where several officials were already standing, and those who were seated quickly rose to attention. It was standing room only in the conference room, as the president had insisted everyone attend this initial briefing.

  “Good morning,” he greeted them as he entered. “Please take a seat so we can get started.”

  Chairs shuffled and a few whispered words were exchanged between members of his cabinet as Fielding began to hand out the daily briefing report. The morning briefing might not have been at the White House, but it was an essential part of the government’s daily operations nonetheless.

  As chief of staff, she began conducting the briefing. “Naturally, the bulk of our time this morning will be spent discussing IM86 and the status of our mission to divert or destroy it. However, there are two topics the president would like to address first. One is the status of our military readiness.” She turned to the chairman of the Joint Chiefs and nodded.

  He began. “Mr. President, Mrs. Fielding, for weeks, we have redeployed most of our troops and support personnel abroad back to the United States. Coordinating with the Secretary of State’s office, we have greatly increased our troop levels in Australia, the Philippines, and Guam. These are the southernmost military installations available to us that can maintain our naval vessels as well as quick reaction forces, if need be.”

  “Well,” added the president, “NASA advised us that the Northern Hemisphere was expected to bear the brunt of the space debris from this asteroid, and I suppose, in a moment, we’ll know if that’s still the case.” The president thumbed through the daily briefing binder, pausing as he studied the information.