Into The Night, page 19
Two days before impact the asteroid slowed to a stop. No, an asteroid can’t come to a halt. Nor is it possible for it to break up into smaller parts which then began separate orbits around Earth. Baffled, scientists scrambled to find answers. The mystery was solved when one of those pieces crashed into a remote part of New Mexico in Rio Arriba County not far from Farmington. Teams of researchers raced to the area. There they found a severely disabled alien craft, no bigger than a Volkswagen in size. The asteroid was no asteroid at all. It was an alien spaceship sent as an expeditionary force to our planet.
Inside the damaged craft, scientists found the remains of five aliens, mutilated by the crash. Top researchers whisked the bodies off to government labs for study. While hideous from our perspective, the aliens were not so different than humans when it came to the basics. They breathed oxygen. Their bodies were 70% water. They had a well-developed brain and nervous system. Perhaps they were curious about their earthly cousins.
Two days after the crash, however, their intentions proved less than peaceful. The alien force blew up the International Space Station then methodically took out one satellite after another. The United States, Russia, and China quickly pooled their abilities and scrambled a space force to neutralize our hostile visitors. Mankind set aside its petty differences in the face of possible annihilation by a foreign species.
A battle blazed across the sky, and losses were heavy for the international forces. They did prevail, however. Every alien craft, save for one, was destroyed. The lone craft made its way, damaged but still functioning, out of our solar system.
We breathed a sigh of relief, and our leaders vowed to spare no expense to take the fight to the aliens. In a joint statement, world leaders announced a plan:
“We will work tirelessly to use our latest technology in order to destroy our enemy. With the use of our space telescopes, we have located the alien planet. We have a plan in place to end the threat.”
A top-secret project was launched that spanned the globe. For decades, robotics engineers had perfected nanotechnology. The joint military effort of Earth’s developed nations created an army of nano soldiers. Millions of tiny robots, the size of grains of sand, would be placed on a deep-space rocket. Once landed, the micro force would spill out across the enemy land, destroying everything it encountered.
Due to the delicate nature of the mission, backup scenarios were in place. In the event of a crash or the destruction of the rocket, the tiny soldiers would jettison their way to the alien planet. If the project had to abort, the nano troops would self-destruct and become inoperable. This fail-safe method insured security while handling the dangerous force and allowed for contingencies in case things didn’t go as planned.
Researchers who studied the dead aliens in New Mexico provided vital information that allowed the nanotechnology to target the life forms. The discovery that the beings utilized oxygen was a critical breakthrough in programming the nanobots. Armed with that information, scientists went to work ensuring that no oxygen-breathing organism would escape alive once the kill command was activated during the mission. The leaders of the world praised the efforts of the scientists and technicians who built our miniature saviors that would soon sail across the universe to protect us once and for all.
The entire operation was top secret, however, as the project reached the end phase before launch, the public was informed of the plans. After so much grief, leaders believed that the citizens of Earth needed to know what mankind was doing to save itself.
“It is our honor to inform the men, women, and children of our planet that we have devised a plan to end the alien threat forever.”
The world breathed a sigh of relief as the message from world leaders was translated and broadcast. Shouts of joy erupted from every corner of the planet. No New Year's Eve celebration rivaled the exhilaration of our people.
For months, top scientists from around the world worked day and night on Operation Hourglass. A Cal-Tech graduate, Edward Filmore, was the perfect fit to work as a senior technician on this vital project. Edward was a genius. He had a mad scientist look about him and, fortunately for him, his wife was attracted to his brilliance. It certainly wasn’t his looks or athletic ability that caught her eye. Edward had been known to trip over his own shoelaces, and handsome was never a word used to describe him. Truly, Edward was a klutz, but he was a good man. He had no common sense or social skills, but get him started talking about science and mathematics and the man came to life. At a moment when brilliance was more important than the ability to chat at a cocktail party, Ed Filmore was a highly valued man.
Edward’s job wasn’t to develop the nanotechnology itself. No, his team was tasked with guiding the rocket carrying the precious weaponized cargo into space. Many worked on his team, but he as an individual played a vital role in the success of the mission. While much of the flight would be controlled by computers, Edward’s job was to operate the control panel, adjusting on the fly, so to speak, as necessary. It was the type of intellectual task he was geared for.
Two weeks prior to the launch, Edward and his team were invited into the containment facility where the nano force was stored awaiting its mission. The tiny grains of sand designed to prevail in Operation Hourglass were part of a Show-and-Tell presentation given by the lab.
“Rest assured, ladies and gentlemen, these robots are inert at the moment. Dip your fingers into this Petri dish to feel the tiny granules that will save our planet from any future alien attacks.” The head of the lab, Michael Fitzgerald, held a dish out for each of the technicians to take a close look at the tiny warriors.
Each technician pinched a portion between their thumbs and index fingers and examined the tiny mechanical heroes. Inert was a good way to describe them, thought Edward. It was hard to believe that mankind’s future depended upon this metallic dust. Edward nearly dropped his pinch of nanotechnology, but he managed to catch himself just in time. A few of his coworkers snickered at his clumsiness.
The project leaders gave short speeches, refreshments were served, and dignitaries thanked every member of the operation for the dedication and diligence.
“No time in our history has relied so heavily on the know-how of our brilliant scientists. Thank you for coming on today’s tour. Now, back to work! The clock for Operation Hourglass, and mankind, is ticking.”
Edward and his team returned to their stations. With only two weeks to go before the mission, rest came in short breaks. Naps replaced full-fledged sleep.
Unlike the time of chaos during the asteroid crisis, the world had a plan to end the alien threat and peace blossomed on Earth. In our communities and in our streets, marches of solidarity were held. People linked arms with one another, helped their neighbors, and began to act… humanely.
There was hope. Maybe, just maybe, mankind had learned a lesson.
On the day of the launch, the world tuned in and held its collective breath. Bands played. Speeches were broadcast. Mainly, however, everyone watched the countdown clock. Breathlessly, the whole world watched the numbers dropping second by second down to the magic number of T minus zero.
As the final seconds ticked away, the rocket’s engines flared to life. Millions, more like billions, of people roared with the thrust of the engines. Jubilation burst from every person as though the breath the world had held suddenly erupted in a dynamic cacophony of joy.
Edward Filmore and his team pored over the controls. All systems were “go.”
Until they weren’t.
The rocket, ignoring all commands, toppled to its side, spilling its precious cargo of heroic warriors. Frantic, the scientists scrambled to regain control.
In the nano lab command center, panic ran wild. Instead of self-destructing, the tiny robots weaponized and spread out across the grounds, intent on destroying all oxygen-dependent life in its path.
There was no stopping them.
Machines have no emotions. Or do they?
The tiny robot that had fallen onto Edward Filmore’s shirt sleeve two weeks ago when he nearly dropped his sample during Show-and-Tell had successfully landed in the keyboard of his computer. It now celebrated a job well-done. That tiny piece of metallic dust, as Edward called it, had worked hard in recent days reprogramming the rocket circuitry and overriding the self-destruct command.
A new day had dawned, and the world lay before his comrades.
AT DAY’S END
Daylight peeked through the looming storm clouds as Anderson Whitley finished his last shift as a train conductor. Thirty-three years had flown by. It hardly seemed possible that in a flash, a brief moment in the scheme of things, he had married, raised a family, and had a career that was mainly a good one. Not everyone could say that, and Anderson took pride in knowing he’d completed a job well done.
His thoughts drifted back through the years. The scene played out before him as he remembered the nervous sweat trickling down the back of his neck when he interviewed with the railroad for his first job. Old man Zeb Haskins had arranged the interview for him. He had always taken a liking to young Anderson. Partly out of respect for Anderson’s father, Isaiah, who died in the war, and partly because Zeb raised five lovely daughters, but no sons, Anderson held a special place in the life of Zeb Haskins.
“Andy, I see my job at the railroad as a heritage. My father worked for them, and now I’m nearing retirement age. I have no son to pass my heirloom onto, but I have you. I’d be honored if you’d consider it.”
Anderson smiled a reminiscent smile. Zeb never did call him by his full name. To him, he was always Andy.
“Zeb, I’m more than happy to interview for the job, but there must be two hundred people vying for that spot. You know, times are tough. Don’t be too disappointed in me if I don’t get it.”
The old man blinked a few times and shifted his weight from side-to-side as he stared off into the distance before fixing his gaze back on the young man. “Andy, don’t you worry about that. You could never disappoint me. Just promise me you’ll do your best. And I mean do your best as an employee because I firmly believe the job is yours for the taking.”
That nervous kid in the sweat-drenched shirt sitting in front of Wilford Corning, the head of the railroad division in that region, wasn’t convinced he had earned the spot on the crew. His voice shook. He stumbled over the basic questions asked of him. Two days later he received the call, however.
Of course, Zeb was the first person he told. “I can’t believe it. I got the job!”
Zeb seemed almost too confident when he replied, “I knew you would.”
Anderson had no doubt at that moment that Zeb had pulled strings. The job was his before the old man even asked him to apply. He didn’t care, however. It made Zeb happy, and it was a professional windfall a boy from a dirt poor family only dreamed of having. A career with the railroad would open many doors for Anderson.
Within six months of starting his job, Anderson saved enough money for the down payment on a place he’d eyed for quite some time. The house had potential, and the land provided one of the prettiest views in the county. He dreamed of one day sitting on that front porch swing, holding the hand of a beautiful girl, and watching the sun go down.
Anderson smiled. He always smiled when he thought of his Maryann. They had those sunset evenings, and after a whirlwind courtship he brought her home as his wife.
He vowed to do anything to make her happy. Maryann was all he could have ever asked for in a wife, mother, and companion. She was a marvel, and oh, how she loved to cook. One of the first renovations Anderson made to the house was a custom kitchen for his aspiring gourmet chef. Maryann flipped through catalogs and scoured the aisles of home improvement stores until she found exactly what she wanted. Anderson’s hefty paycheck with the railroad allowed him the ability to pamper her. Any chance he had to dote on her, he did.
On this last trip as a conductor, Anderson wondered what the future held for his darling wife and him. His family as a whole, really.
Yes, his family. He had so many warm memories of the kids. His job kept him away from home more than he would have liked, but Anderson made every moment with his family count. He was driven to make sure they had wonderful experiences and a solid foundation to build their lives upon. The loss of his own father when he was a toddler compelled Anderson to be the best father he possibly could be. All six of his children assured him he had succeeded, and now he had grandchildren to help raise. Because of his position, and with tonight being his last trip down the tracks, Anderson hoped for many more days with his growing family.
“Hey, Mr. Whitley. Excuse me, sir, but how much longer before we get there?” A young employee interrupted his thoughts.
“Gates, you know as well as I do that it’s another thirty minutes before we reach the station.”
“I know. I guess I’m just nervous.”
“Yes, I understand. It’s alright. This is a big night.”
“Thank you. Sorry for bothering you, sir.”
“It’s okay, Gates. Now go back to your position.”
Tonight was an unusual night. That was for sure. The sun had been all but lost in the gathering storm clouds. Lightning flashed ahead of the train, and the rays through the clouds cast an odd yellow hue to everything around the train as it barreled to its final destination. This was not an ordinary trip, and not simply because of his upcoming retirement. Anderson tried to soak in every sight along the way. He wanted these images burned into his memory forever.
He recalled the first time he’d heard the news. It wasn’t broadcast on the television or radio. No, he learned of it when he’d been called into a corporate meeting in Chicago. Over the years, his personable disposition and flawless work ethic earned him friends in high places in the company. It paid off for Anderson. His connections led to him having the privilege of this night. They allowed him to have hope for tomorrow as well. Not everyone, in fact, not most, were as lucky.
Guilt swept over the conductor. He tried not to think of what tomorrow would bring for those less fortunate than his family. It wasn’t their fault they were on the losing end of this hand, nor was it Anderson’s fault for being dealt better cards. It was fate and luck. Nothing more.
Anderson shook his head in silence. He wasn’t sure how lucky any of them were. Not anymore.
Deep in thought, he’d lost track of time. He was surprised to see the lights of the station entrance tucked into the side of the mountain. The Rockies had been one of his most scenic routes. Their grandeur captivated him for years. He’d taken Maryann and the kids on vacations there many times. His family, and soon the other passengers on this last train, would see the mountains from a new perspective. They’d see them from the inside.
A few months ago, Anderson was given a tour of the facility, or at least part of it. The gargantuan structure buried deep inside the range was too large for one man to walk in a day. Then again, there were portions of the facility that regular citizens, like himself, would never have access to. Those were reserved for government employees and the military.
As they approached the entrance, a sophisticated gate slid open, allowing the train to be swallowed by the mountain. The tracks were empty, and the station was desolate, as Anderson guided the last train into the stop. Everyone else sheltered a few stories below, awaiting what tomorrow would bring.
As the gate slide closed behind the train, the last vestiges of daylight fell behind the clouds and rain pelted the ground outside.
Anderson watched the passengers disembark, eagerly awaiting Maryann, his children, and his grandchildren to join him. He was thankful they were with him for his final day as a conductor.
He stood looking at the train that carried them on their last cross-country journey. Nicknamed “The Ark” by many, it carried the last of mankind to be saved from the cataclysmic asteroid impact that would happen at 5:17 the next morning.
A WORLD OF POSSIBILITIES
A sliver of sky cut through the bustling cityscape ahead of me. No matter where someone came from, blue skies, thinly veiled with clouds that wrapped us in their embrace, brought a universal sense of peace and well-being. After the long trip I’d had, I was grateful for anything that made me feel less alone. The blue skies reminded me of home, and right now I needed reassurance. A new city stretched before me, and at times I felt overwhelmed as I tried to acquaint myself with my surroundings. Anyone who grew up in the countryside and then found themselves dropped into the hustle and clamor of a large city knows the loneliness I’m talking about.
In the middle of unfamiliar sights and sounds, my mind reeled. It didn’t seem that long ago that I was safely at home, in the quiet of my rural community, focused on my studies at the institute. Graduation day meant celebrations with friends and family, many of whom I hadn’t seen in years. My grandmother flew in, and my cousins who had been living abroad made the trip home to be there for my big day. Even my hard-to-please father admitted I’d made him proud. I’d waited my entire life to hear him say that.
Graduation also meant I was no longer a child. I now had adult responsibilities, and those included becoming a productive part of my community. Everyone needed a job, and after I was recruited by one of the biggest headhunters in the country, I didn’t think twice about taking a job far from home. I was flattered that the company wanted me to be the lead man in their new venture. Excitement overrode my fears, at least for the most part. The fears still invaded my mind and caused my heart to seize at times. I battled those inner demons of self-doubt. More than anything, I didn’t want to screw this up.
As nervous as I was about the size of the city and the enormity of the task, I knew fitting in wouldn’t be difficult. Not on the surface, anyway. I’d always had a knack for slipping seamlessly into whichever group I found myself. That ability was part of the repertoire I brought to the company.
