Until the Dawn, page 2
Dorgain flashed a razor edged smile. "If I were you, I would return to the upper levels but remain within this complex," he suggested, laughing darkly at his own words. "The end is finally upon us all."
Sensing instinctively that their patience with him was wearing thin, the King rose to his feet, nodded with respect in the general direction of the Triumvirate before returning quietly to the large metal door at the rear of the cavern. Silently, the two guards waiting outside escorted him back down the corridor in the direction of the elevator that would return him to the top levels of the compound.
They're not kidding, Dran Graven thought silently. They're going to initiate a nuclear war!
* * *
After the King of Hariden was gone, Horrend took a few minutes to dismiss the dozens of clones that had been seated in front of the stage. "Return to your posts," he urged them. "Keep alert and watchful over the next few hours. If any of our many enemies suspects that anything is out of the ordinary, our undercover operatives will detect any planned counter offensive and report in. Be ready for this… be ready and be strong!" He clenched the fingers of his right hand into a tight fist and then held out the entire arm in the traditional salute.
All of those assembled before him returned it without hesitation. "Be ready and be strong!" they shouted back. Then, in an orderly manner, they formed two slowly moving lines and filed back out into the corridor.
When they were gone and only the Triumvirate remained, Dorgain cast a wary gaze in the direction of Jelara. "Graven is correct about the United States," he pointed out to her. "Their nuclear launch codes, in particular, are heavily encrypted and subject to extremely tight protocol. We may not be able to initiate launches from here."
"It does not matter my friend," replied Horrend reassuringly. "We have stirred up such paranoia within the Chinese government regarding America, that they will almost certainly target the U.S. first. Once enough missiles begin to explode within their borders, you can bet that their President will order a counter-attack. He would be a fool not to. The smaller nuclear powers will join in as soon as they recognize that they too are targets – our control over facilities in India and Pakistan will fire on them and almost certainly send the final dominoes toppling." His expression soured, and he glanced down at the empty desktop in front of him before shooting an angry glance in Jelara's direction.
"It is not our fault that this is happening earlier than we anticipated," she insisted defiantly, sensing his outrage. "There will be a new American President soon, and regardless of who wins the election, their new leader will undoubtedly begin to increase the armaments on merchant vessels traveling throughout the solar system."
"The victor will also increase their military presence in outer space," Dorgain predicted. "We have stolen too much from civilian vessels over the past few years. America as a whole might be in steep decline, but their military is well-known to protect the weak and defenseless. Here on Earth we will immediately dominate, but it will take time for our starships to hunt down their space-borne defenses and eliminate all capital ships."
"That isn't what bothers me," Horrend decided with a deep frown. "What bothers me is Cassiopeia, the secret project the Americans have had in development for more than a decade. They have an entirely new form of Point-to-Point wormhole engine design under construction at their base on the moon. Everyone who is officially asked will publically deny it, but I know that it's up there." He leaned back in his chair and stretched, pondering the matter a bit further. "I don't like it at all, because Cassiopeia is the project that is forcing us to act earlier than planned. All our work could be for naught if they get that new system operational before we're ready."
Jelara shook her head. "All of my contacts in the U.S. have claimed that the Americans are still more than a year away from bringing anything substantive on-line," she told him sternly. "In the meantime they will have to rely upon standard Point-to-Point transit like every other space-faring nation."
"The reports from your contacts are probably one hundred percent accurate," acknowledged Horrend, although his mood remained restive. "That's the problem. When the Americans have such tight control over a project on the moon, it is easy for them to shut off information leaks. The people up there," he paused long enough to jerk a thumb toward the ceiling, "are probably feeding the population down here whatever propaganda that they choose to. After all, didn't they originally say they were trying to mine some sort of new ore? I now know that troublesome rumor to be false. I also know they have an underground complex despite claims to the contrary."
Taking a deep breath, Jelara noted that her words failed to reassure him. Nevertheless she persisted. "Even if the Americans manage to extend the range of PTP transit beyond our solar system, where would such a ship go? To date, there is still no tangible evidence of alien life beyond this planet."
"It is not their flashy new transit drive that concerns me," concluded Horrend with a restless sigh. "I am worried more about the fundamentally new type of power source that they must be developing in order to power it. Such an energy source could easily be adapted for use in powering weaponry, and that would not bode well for us. It could ruin everything, in fact." The three of them fell silent for a few minutes, deep in thought. Finally, Horrend looked toward Jelara as a sudden thought struck him. "Were you successful with your assignment to plant an operative in that moon colony?" he inquired.
Her cheeks flushing red with embarrassment, Jelara shook her head in response. "Their screening of applicants for the science team is much too tight, even for us. Three years ago we had a strong possibility in the making, but she was unfortunately rejected." The beautiful brunette shrugged helplessly. "It's a bottleneck up there… they don't need people that often, and when they do they tend to select the best of the best."
Horrend's frown deepened. "I don't LIKE not KNOWING what is going on up there!" he thundered suddenly, his deep voice reverberating loudly throughout the huge chamber. He rose to his feet so quickly that his chair fell over with a loud clatter as it skittered across the wooden stage floor. Turning toward Jelara, his face reddened. "It was you who was tasked with placing an operative there…"
Also rising to his feet, Dorgain stepped protectively in front of Jelara and raised a reassuring hand toward Horrend. "Relax," he stated calmly but surely. "There are always other options that we have considered. The Cassiopeia moon base also requires a great deal of skilled labor, and that is the expertise of my cloning line. Thus far it is at a low level clearance only, but we do have an undercover agent working there."
The news calmed Horrend considerably. He took several deep breaths to soothe his fierce temper, then picked up his overturned chair and reseated himself. "Has this operative, perchance, checked in recently in order to keep our intelligence up to date?"
"He has," nodded Dorgain with a satisfied smile. "The information he transmitted several weeks ago matches the reports from Jelara's people. He stated very clearly that the Americans are at least a year or more away from full development of their new engine system."
"Good," said Horrend approvingly. "Then we may proceed with our war."
Armageddon
UNTIL THE DAWN
Chapter I: Armageddon
* * *
He was on the moon's surface when the first reports began trickling in. Once again he had decided to take the time for a personal recon hike to look for the best spot to land the Waywardsman. At first the crackle of his helmet transceiver annoyed him slightly, until he heard the tone of voice on the other end.
"Denny… I mean, Captain Norris?" The voice was faint but filled with strong emotion.
"This is Norris," William responded, stopping to rest against the dusty side of a small lunar hill. "What's the problem, Melissa? You sound stressed." He chuckled a little bit while adjusting the O2 setting on his standard-issue flight suit. "I know the revised schedule moves our next test up two weeks, but I'm sure we'll get the work done in plenty of time. We always do."
"It's not that, sir," his communications specialist responded. "You're not going to believe this. We're receiving reports of at least three nuclear detonations on Earth!"
"What?" Norris asked with surprise. "Are you certain? Who is responsible?"
"At this point no one knows, sir. New reports are coming in… dozens of explosions. The news feeds I'm listening to are calling it an all-out attack!"
Norris stood, stunned, for a moment. His eyes were still surveying the lunar surface, but his thoughts were racing wildly. "I'm on my way back," he decided suddenly. "Have the base go to full alert, and post armed guards around the Waywardsman." A sudden rush of anger caused him to take too large of a step and he stumbled, landing awkwardly on his back. "Damned low gravity environments," he growled, leaping to his feet. "And damn whoever is behind this. Almost a century of peace and NOW the world decides to go insane." He ran as fast as the moon's conditions allowed, kicking up clouds of dust in his wake that would take some time to settle.
"It's confirmed sir," Melissa's voice crackled a bit from static, but cleared almost immediately. "At least five nations are involved, including Russia, China, India, Pakistan… and the United States! We're retaliating in what appears to be the beginning of a huge global conflict!"
"May God help us!" he stated, adjusting his transmitter frequency as fast as his gloved fingers would allow. "Attention all base personnel, I repeat, attention all base personnel. This is Captain William Norris. At this time I am ordering an immediate suspension of all incoming and outgoing ship launches. If there's anybody in the air get on the comm system and order them back. After that, initiate a communications blackout and shut down all non-essential systems base wide."
"Captain, this is Trey cutting in," said a new voice in his ear. "We've got several seriously critical tests in progress on the Waywardsman's CAS upgrade. I don't think you want…"
"Shut everything down, dammit!" Norris repeated. "If there are hostile vessels in the area – and you can bet there are – then they'll be coming here too. I don't want bulls-eyes painted on the key areas of our complex when they get here."
He reached the base of one of the larger hills. A massive niche was carved in its side with a hatchway located in the center. Norris quickly activated the door's entry mechanism and stepped into an airlock. "I'm in," he said, waiting impatiently for oxygen to flood the inner compartment. "I'll be up in Central Operations momentarily."
* * *
Khyber Base was only ten years old but built to last, even on the moon. Norris had been stationed here for seven of those years, insuring that the larger Cassiopeia Project directing construction of the Waywardsman stayed on schedule. Most of the specific details were just a dream when he was a kid, but now – at age 39 – the revolutionary new science vessel had become his one and only focus in life. He had been lucky, because his father had always supported his decision and admired his determination to get to space.
Until now, the best part was that the brand new ship was almost ready for testing!
He cussed again as he ran through the corridors of the base, descending gradually into its underground labyrinth. Just a few more weeks, and all they would have left to correct were the minor glitches. That's what frustrated him the most at the moment – the fact that the "bells and whistles" stage of the project was so close at hand. No longer limited by the moon's low gravity, Norris blew through the nearest door to the Operations Center at a full sprint.
"Take a look at this, sir," Lieutenant Melissa Hastings reported quietly, without looking up. Her short, brunette hairstyle always caught him by surprise. She was a very pretty woman but chose to look professional first, especially while on duty. That was the way she always did her job, too.
On the main monitors at the center of the room were various pictures of Earth's continents, fed to them from orbital communications satellites. Massive glowing explosions covered most of them, with additional new blast points sprouting up as quickly as the others began to fade.
"God forgive!" someone across the room said in astonishment. Several of the technicians next to her were in tears, and there wasn't a member of the crew who didn't look shaken by the unexpected turn of events.
"Is the picture on the right North America?" Norris asked, more than a little astonished by the fact that there were already so many explosions he couldn't even be certain.
"Yes," Melissa replied. "These images were recorded only minutes earlier. Since then we've lost all contact with most of the standard government channels. But there's lots of civilian chatter, and military Comm-traffic is rising steadily."
"What are the civilian Captains saying?"
"We're receiving distress calls and reports of large, unknown vessels."
"Unknown vessels?" queried Norris. "What kind?"
"Well, for one thing our supply shuttle just called in, sir," she stated matter-of-factly. "They were on their way back to rendezvous with the rest of the supply convoy. A larger capital ship dropped out of PTP transit almost on top of them and immediately opened fire. All attempts to communicate with the newcomer are being ignored. That's it… then the message ends. I know the whole story only because I received a follow up message from one of the crew – he contacted me with an emergency transmitter someone had on board. I was just about to send the Ranger to help them out when you ordered a halt on all traffic." She shrugged. "It's the same with the military vessels, too. Unknown ships are dropping out of transit and immediately opening fire." Her lips pursed tightly as she listened, trying to filter out the unnecessary conversations. "There are also frantic reports from the officers on military vessels regarding some sort of electronics problem."
"Confirm base blackout," Norris ordered, "With the exception of that shuttle. Try opening communications with her Captain. I want to know if they're okay." Standing next to Melissa, the Captain activated another of the Comm-links that lined her console. "Trey," he stated firmly, "If you have everything on Waywardsman shut down I'd like you to get up here and help Melissa monitor communications. She kind of has her hands full at the moment."
"Monitor communications. For what?" Trey responded irritably.
"We don't know yet, Trey," Norris told him. "That's what I need you to find out. It sounds like there's some kind of unknown attack underway, and whoever is doing it is interfering with military communications as much as possible while firing on our fleet… probably a jamming field of some sort. They're also nuking Earth! I want you and your specialists on this right freaking now. Find out how they're doing it."
Behind him, a door opened and a Marine walked into the room. "I heard, Captain," he said tensely. "How bad is it?"
"I need you to place the base on full alert, Colonel Emerson," Norris replied. "I may be head of this project, but you and your troops are the ones assigned to protect us. Be ready for anything…"
"An announcement has just been made on all civilian frequencies," noted Melissa, the expression on her face all the apology he needed for the abrupt interruption. "Someone representing an organization called the Brotherhood of the Dragon is claiming responsibility for the attacks."
Norris whirled to face the Colonel. "There you have it. This so-called Brotherhood is attacking both military and civilian targets. They also have some sort of jamming field in place that is interfering with ship-based electronics."
"Then I suggest we implement our disaster contingency plan," the Colonel replied.
"Deactivate key systems and evacuate all personnel underground?" Norris weighed the idea warily before nodding in agreement. "If they're using nukes, then we can expect to get hit, too."
"Agreed," Emerson replied.
Switching his Comm to a base-wide frequency, Norris quickly cleared his throat. "This is Captain William Norris," he stated firmly. "We are declaring an emergency disaster situation. Everyone is ordered to drop what you're doing and gather together all the supplies and equipment you can carry. Evacuate to the Waywardsman's shuttle bay. It's deep enough underground that we should be safe there for the time being. Everyone, and I mean everyone, assemble there ASAP. Based on what I'm seeing up here, I estimate you've got less than thirty minutes."
The Operations Center suddenly became a flurry of activity as on duty personnel began packing their essentials and shutting down consoles. Within minutes, only the Colonel, William and Melissa remained. As the last of the technicians left, Trey Rem entered the room. The tall, spindly computer technician was firmly shaking his head negatively – it was difficult to tell at first glance whether his frustration was directed at the situation in general or something specific. He was nearly thirty years old, and yet – to Norris – he still looked like an acne-scarred kid fresh out of high school.
"The enemy is NOT jamming us, sir. It's something else," he concluded confidently. "We had all our systems on the Waywardsman up and running and there was absolutely nothing interfering with our tests – not even the smallest glitch."
