Destroyer from the Lost Planet, page 20
Ninurta disappeared into the antimatter vehicle behind them, and left them forcing a long smile for the assembled troops and musicians. In a couple of minutes, Ninurta reappeared, raised his hand (apparently the signal for the band to stop playing), stood at attention, and addressed the troops in English, no doubt for the benefit of the departing guests.
“On behalf of our beloved King Enlil—”
The assembled troops interrupted as required by protocol, reciting as one, “Long may he reign.”
Ninurta resumed.
“—let us bid farewell to our visitors from the esteemed allied nation of America, and wish them and their nation long life and peace.” He turned toward David and Catharine and took a step back from them.
“Salom!” Ninurta pronounced broadly.
“Salom!” the assembled echoed with equal vigor.
David turned to Catharine and whispered the count-off for their parting benediction. “One … two … three—Shalom, and Long Live Good King Enlil!”
The parting words had the desired effect; the well-disciplined troops dropped their salutes, laughed and applauded, chanting “Long Live Good King Enlil.” David and Catharine shook Ninurta’s hand, waved goodbye to Nergal, and passed into the cabin.
The hatch closed automatically behind them. Through the soles of their feet, they could feel the heavy ramp being rolled away from the craft and the troops being marched out of the bay in formation.
David plopped down in the first seat he came upon, which mystified Catharine. While she’d planned to take their bags directly to their sleeping quarters (second nature to the frequent traveler), instead she put down her bags and took the seat next to David, who’d become quite somber.
“What is it?” she whispered.
He laughed bitterly. “What is it?” he echoed in a whisper. “Our pilot is controlled by someone who’d rather see us dead than see us home. And, in a few seconds, we’ll be completely dependent upon him once again, millions of miles from the nearest aid. And what do we have to protect ourselves? A couple of headsets.” He shook his head hopelessly. “Like they’re gonna save us.”
“David,” she said, “we’re not in the android’s hands. We’re in Ninurta’s hands.”
He seemed to lighten up at that, but only slightly.
She continued. “He’s the guy who kicked Anzû’s ass all those years ago, remember?”
David nodded equivocally.
“Well, he’s gonna do it again,” she said.
“Then why isn’t he aboard with us?” asked David.
She shrugged. “As my dad used to say, ‘Never bet against the champ.’ If we need Ninurta, he’ll be here.”
What David wanted to say was, it would take him weeks to get to us. Instead, he forced himself to brighten a little.
“Yeah,” he said, “you’re probably right.”
The landing bay had evidently already been cleared and sealed off, as it was being rapidly depressurized. Once that process was complete, the big exterior door opened and an automated announcement came on the PA system, “Control: External.”
The craft rose a few feet off the deck and slowly passed out into space. David and Catharine gazed forlornly at Mars. In a few minutes, even the cold comfort of having a dead planet nearby would be lost to memory in the indifferent void of space.
David felt all hope leave him, replaced by a ruthless determination that Catharine would survive this trip unscathed.
No matter who had to die to make that happen.
Back at Nellis AFB, it was two in the morning on a warm Sunday. Gary was sound asleep when there was a knock at his door. It was Buck, in uniform.
Gary ran his hands over his face. “Hey, Buck,” he mumbled in his West Texas drawl gazing at his friend’s face through bleary eyes, “was I supposed to report or somethin’? I thought I had nothin’ scheduled—”
Buck was distracted from whatever had caused him to visit in the middle of the night. He pointed at Gary incredulously. “You wear pajamas?”
Gary rolled his eyes. “Well, at least I don’t sleep in uniform, like you apparently do. Gonna put me on report?”
Buck shook his head, as though he couldn’t afford to get caught up in trivialities just now (much as he would have liked to). “No, it’s just—Come with me to comms. There’s no brass there, just somethin’ I want you to see. Throw on a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt.”
Gary put on the civilian clothes he’d been wearing before he changed into his PJs, consisting of a pair of black Levi’s jeans, a brightly colored, billowy Hawaiian shirt, and leather sandals.
Buck silently shook his head disapprovingly. “Shoulda stayed in the pajamas,” he muttered, and beckoned Gary to follow him to the Jeep.
An unexpected wave of jet-fuel vapor wafted over Gary’s face, nearly making him choke. He glanced at the driver. “Thurston,” he said, “is this guy makin’ you drive around all night? That’s against navy regs.”
“Welcome to Space Force, sir,” Thurston snickered. “It’s okay. I was on duty anyway.”
Before getting into the back seat, Gary glanced all around him. The hairs on the back of his head tingled. He’d seen preparations for conflict before, and the base was bustling with the telltale signs. Light shone out of widely separated windows in all the command-and-control buildings. There was more ground-crew activity on the tarmac than he’d ever seen on a Sunday night, and many more pedestrians on the street, virtually all in uniform and moving with evident purpose. An old quotation returned to him unsummoned: Something about preparations for war not “dividing the Sunday from the week.”
He knew well that such hypervigilance could hang in the air for weeks (or even months), only to be instantly dispelled once the crisis was averted. But then there were the other times … when events got out of hand.
The Jeep jerked to a halt in front of the radio shack. Gary and Buck got out and Thurston drove off without a word.
Every light in the radio shack was on, and a small group of techs had gathered around a large screen showing a radar sweep.
Gary was a little disoriented when Lorraine (of all people) popped out of the crowd to greet him. His puzzlement must have been evident, because she laughed and said, “I’m not in your imagination, Lieutenant Sullivan; I was just transferred here from Ellsworth.” She regarded Buck skeptically. “I was the one who asked Lieutenant Buchanan to fetch you, though I assume he didn’t mention that. Glad you’re here; I need a reality check.”
Lorraine turned to the screen showing the radar sweep. “Make a hole, please,” she said, and several techs stepped aside, allowing her and Gary to approach the radar screen. She spoke to whoever was operating the screen. “Please cue up the first incursion, please.”
Gary found the word incursion disturbing.
The screen momentarily cleared, only to be replaced by a clean radar sweep.
“Looks familiar,” Gary said, in a lame attempt at humor.
Lorraine pointed to the northernmost periphery of the sweep. “Here it comes … five, four, three, two, one … bingo.” She turned to Gary. “Did you see it?”
Gary nodded. “I saw somethin’,” he said. “Play it again.”
Lorraine counted down and, once again, an evanescent blip flashed at the north edge of the sweep looking suspiciously like something he’d seen on his fighter’s scope on the last day of the summit meeting—just before his squadron descended on the enemy fighters.
“Could it be an electronic artifact?” asked Gary, turning toward Lorraine with an idea. “Y’know, on my SF-5, the computer has a module that makes a best-guess analysis of low-altitude objects.”
Lorraine scoffed quietly. “The one on your craft’s just a little mobile version of Big Sweeper right here.” She pointed to a very ordinary-looking laptop.
“What does Big Sweeper say?” asked Gary.
“She says it’s definitely not a radar artifact,” she replied. “It’s real … whatever it is.”
Gary nodded cautiously. “Did she say it was a flock of migratory birds?”
“She said it looked like birds,” said Lorraine, “but expressed low confidence.”
“You know what else looks like birds on radar?” asked Gary.
Lorraine appeared stumped; she studied Gary’s expression. “I’m gonna guess … a squadron of enemy flying saucers?”
Gary nodded somberly. “Or just about anything else with effective stealth measures. Has the incursion recurred?”
“Not yet,” said Lorraine. “In fact, we woulda missed this one if it hadn’t been for Big Sweeper’s insistence.”
Buck suddenly appeared at Gary’s shoulder.
“Waddya think?” asked Buck. “Is it worth wakin’ up the old man?” He smiled. “Or are you the oldest guy we gotta wake up tonight?”
Gary couldn’t let that pass. He smiled broadly and said, “Screw you, Buck.”
“Yes, sir,” said Buck. “Thank you, sir.”
“Let’s wait and see if there’s a repeat of this,” said Gary. “If there is, we’ll have to alert base commander.”
There were a few raised voices in a group that had moved on to another screen.
“What is it?” shouted Lorraine. “Talk to me.”
“Incursion happened again, ma’am,” said a young radar tech wearing an old-style headset. “It looked exactly the same, likewise on the periphery, but this time it was about twenty degrees east of the original blip, moving toward Ellsworth.”
“Don’t tell me,” said Buck. “That’s right at the Canadian border.”
“Correct, sir,” said the tech.
Lorraine hit a few keystrokes on the laptop she’d dubbed Big Sweeper. “Same exact size and velocity as Blip Number 1.” She typed another keystroke. “Big Sweeper says it’s saucers—with high confidence this time.” She turned to Gary. “Should we send up a fighter?”
“No,” said Gary. “At the moment, they’re just probing. Let ’em think we missed ’em.” He turned to Lorraine. “They’re not probing only our radar, y’know. They’re probing our reaction. Wake up the base commander. Tell ’im it’s my recommendation he contact Ellsworth with an encrypted message.” He turned to Buck. “Do they have any SF-5s there?”
“They have a baby squadron,” said Buck. “Should we tell ’em to send it up?”
“No way,” said Gary. “Too likely to result in air combat, and they’re not ready for that.” He turned to Lorraine. “Anyway, our base commander should advise Ellsworth to send up an individual saucer as though it’s on regular patrol. That’ll make the bastards think we’re patrolling, but they won’t know they’ve been spotted.”
Buck nodded. “Psych,” said Buck. “Renders their whole probing mission a failure. Next thing for us to do is actually establish a regular patrol.”
“Just what I was thinkin’, Mr. Buchanan,” replied Gary. “But the USA has ten thousand miles of border to patrol. How can we do that? And we can’t let one of those bastards get in here.”
Lorraine looked at Gary askance. “Why would just one intruder be a major threat? They got some kind of bomb that’ll take out a whole continent?”
Gary and Buck exchanged a glance; as far as they knew, Lorraine wasn’t cleared for this intelligence. Evidently, protecting against an EMP weapon wasn’t even under discussion in the airborne services—except at the very top.
Gary said to Lorraine, “Buck and I are gonna get some coffee. You want anything?”
Lorraine made it obvious that she knew she was being shut out. “No,” she replied resentfully.
When Gary and Buck got outside and began walking to the commissary across the street, Gary said, “I’m still not sure whether we should wake up the old man.”
“How come?”
“As I see it,” said Gary, “this can shake out in only a couple of ways. If the enemy is probing our defenses for a weakness, as I suspect they are, they would try to pierce them at the weakest point … eventually.”
“Makes sense.”
“Yeah,” said Gary, “but suppose eventually means tonight?”
Buck nodded thoughtfully. “If we don’t wake him up, the USA’ll be caught with its pants down, and it’ll be our fault.”
“On the other hand,” said Gary, “if we do wake ’im up, at least he’ll be runnin’ the show, and he’ll know all the alternatives.”
“So, then, that would dictate that we wake ’im up, right?” replied Buck. “But if they’re not gonna try to pierce our defenses tonight,” he added, “why wake ’im up? Or should we wake ’im up every time they probe our defenses?”
They suspended the conversation to buy two takeout cups of coffee. On their way back to the radio shack, Gary said, “You asked the right question, Buck.”
“I did?” asked Buck with surprise.
“Yes. The question is: Under what circumstances should we wake up the admiral? The only one who can prescribe those conditions is …”
“The admiral?”
“Right,” said Gary confidently.
“But we have to wake him up to ask him,” said Buck, as though Gary hadn’t thought of that.
“Exactly,” replied Gary. “We’re wakin’ him up to ask him when we should wake him up.”
“Makes sense to me,” said Buck.
Gary nodded. “Which only goes to show we’ve both been in the service too long. It’s rotted our brains.”
When they returned to communications, Lorraine assigned them a room with conference-call capability so they could call the admiral privately. She personally walked them to the door. Before opening it, she leaned in toward Gary. “Are you guys worried about an EMP?”
Gary’s eyebrows shot up. “Sorry, can’t discuss it.”
Lorraine pursed her lips impatiently. “I’m cleared for it. Ask the admiral. He’s the one who cleared me.”
“Okay,” said Gary. “Go back to your job. If he says it’s okay, we’ll come gitcha.”
That seemed to placate her.
Gary looked at Buck, who was sitting quietly. “Well, ya gonna call the admiral?” he demanded.
“Me?” objected Buck. “You’re senior.”
Gary shook his head disdainfully. “So, I’m too old for this job, except when it’s convenient for you to hide behind your junior status?”
“Pretty much,” said Buck.
Gary picked up the handset to the landline. “Nobody likes to wake up onto a conference call. I’ll talk to him first.”
The admiral picked up on the fourth ring, sounding groggy, and miffed at being disturbed. “Yeah, what’s up, Gary? I have to get up early for church. What time is it? Aww, fer chrissakes, it’s almost five in the morning anyway. What’s up?”
“I’m calling from Nellis Air Force Base, admiral. I’ve got Buck here with me. Can I put you on the squawk box?”
“Yeah. What the hell? I’m up now anyway.”
“Can we bring Lorraine in on the call?” asked Gary uneasily.
“Sher,” grumped the admiral, “let’s have a party.”
Gary got up, stuck his head out the door and waved energetically for Lorraine to join them. As soon as she came in, he shut the door and began. “Admiral, Lorraine caught a blip on the radar, and the computer’s pretty sure it’s enemy saucers probing our defenses. As we have no clue whether and when they intend to follow up with an attack, we thought it best to clue you in at the earliest possible moment.”
“Good morning, Lorraine,” said the admiral. “Did it happen just once?”
“Twice, admiral,” said Lorraine. “Second time was about … let’s see … a quarter-hour ago.”
“Whom have you notified?” asked the admiral.
“Just base commander, sir,” replied Lorraine. “The bogey seemed to be moving eastward, so we advised the base commander to recommend Ellsworth send up an SF-5 and simulate routine patrol.”
There was a moment of silence on the line while the old man assessed the advice. “That’s good. Don’t tell the bastards anything, and let ’em think we’re up there all the time. Whose advice was that? Sullivan’s?”
“Yes, sir,” said Lorraine with a nod to Gary.
“Figures,” said the admiral. “That was good advice. But there’s one more thing we’ve got to consider.”
Gary chimed in. “What’s that, admiral?”
“We’ve got to become more aggressive probing their defenses. We’ve been too cautious until now. If they’re gonna risk destabilizing the situation by sending out probes, they need to see us as just as aggressive.” He sighed. “But I can’t authorize that on my own.”
The three at Nellis AFB knew that that could mean only one thing. The admiral had to call the President. Suddenly, their calling the admiral didn’t seem like such a stupid idea.
They could hear the old man’s bed creak, followed by a few muffled words from his wife.
The admiral spoke again. “Go and get some sleep, boys. If we’re sending up a couple of fighters, you two are flying ’em. I’m gonna see if it makes more sense to go with skeeters, though. It’s cheaper and less destabilizing. Meantime, Lorraine, I don’t have to tell you not to wander far.”
“I won’t, sir,” said Lorraine.
There was a click. The admiral had hung up without any cordialities, which meant he was intent … and nervous.
Hendrick had been summoned to appear before Lord Enki.
“Where is your friend Sullivan?” asked Enki.
“He’s still on Earth, my lord,” said Hendrick.
“When will he return?”
“It’s difficult to say, my lord,” said Hendrick. “He has agreed to rejoin the navy for a time, so he serves at the pleasure of his commanding officer. It was my understanding, however, that he would return within a week of his departure.” It unnerved Hendrick that every time Enki blinked his eyes, it felt as though the room lights had dimmed.
Enki nodded. “So, perhaps another few days. I wished to share with both of you what I have found about the android who remained here on the pyramidion.”
