Age of Monsters John Schneider (digital book reader TXT) 📖

It was as if the EITS had been frequency-blind across the entire military band.

There was also no good explanation as for why communication had kicked in again now.

Notwithstanding those particularly nagging concerns, there was also one consideration he had actually been avoiding bringing up – primarily because he already knew the only possible answer.

And when Tom, in the midst of brisk exchange of orders and information, had finally asked about the possibility of getting him down out of orbit, Rhodes had given it to him right between the eyes.

“We're going to have to worry about that later,” the General said.  “At the moment, we're damn lucky we got you there.  Once we've saved the goddamned planet, we'll do whatever we can for you.”

Tom had wondered if Rhodes would leave it at that, and not say out-loud what they both already knew.

But General Nathan Rhodes was nothing if not a realist – and he made sure you were a realist too.

“Having said that, you realize that dying for your country is in the job description, right?”

“Yes sir,” Tom had replied.

“We're in this for the species, Major.  I'm not going to lie to you.  And I can't kick your ass from  here.  So instead, I'll simply ask.  Are you ready to do your job?  Whatever it takes?”

“Yes sir,” Tom said again.

He didn't say the next thing – that it was one thing to die, but it was another to be left up here alone, forever.

But the General was right.  That was for later.  For now, they had to save the world.

Still, there was one more thing.

The last signal from Kristi in Alaska had come in just that morning.  Her first direct address to the camera in days.

She was running low on ammo and was debating whether she should just hole up, or try to make it cross-country while she still had bullets.

Tom had pinpointed where she lived.  Now with contact – if there was anyone who was in the area...

“Sir?” he said, “I've been picking up distress signals from all over, sir.  I've got people trapped.  Is it possible we could get someone to them?”

There had been a long silence from Rhodes.

“You understand how thinly we're stretched, don't you, son?”

Tom shut his eyes, not looking at Kristi's blank screen.

“I understand, sir.”

In the time since, he had simply followed orders.  He had isolated blooms, set up coordinates, extrapolated damage.

And he began counting down the launch – the biggest nuclear exchange in history.

He was well aware, as he made his preparations, of the potential ramifications of an engagement of this magnitude – he might get to test that EMP scenario after all.

The silos would be activated simultaneously with the launch of the fighters and their direct payloads – all set up within forty-eight hours of re-establishing contact with the EITS station.

Tom realized he was enabling an awful lot by just following orders.

And while he well-recognized the necessity to cut away the cancer, he wondered whether the cure might kill the patient anyway.

He also realized it was within his power to stop it – at least the remote launch.

Tom was not the bombardier, but he was its eyes.

The countdown had begun and, faced with the reality on the ground, Tom still wasn't sure what he would do when those final seconds came.

The codes for launch would be sent through the station out to the satellites – on General Rhodes' clearance.  But it was still Tom sitting there holding the switch.

Or so he thought.

In the descending minutes before final launch, even as below, the jet-engines thundered to life on the carrier's runways, communication from below abruptly blinked out.

For several seconds, every screen on his console went black.

Tom sat there in the dark.

“Ummmm...”

He ran his fingers over the unresponsive keyboard.

Then the screens blinked back to life again, this time accompanied by the whine of static, as well as General Rhodes' voice struggling to filter through.

The words came in choppy bits: “...dammit... this is General Nathan Rhodes...” – followed by a burst of heavy interference – “.... repeating...  clearance codes as follows...”

“Sir?” Tom said, tapping his speaker.  “I'm barely reading you, sir.”

“Send...  while... still can,” Rhodes’ voice said into his ear.

Tom looked at the screen.  Rhodes was trying to verify coordinates.

But even as Tom brought them up, the data simply scrambled.

It was as if that unknown tower that had come on-line was now blinking back off again.

The signal was still there, but only incrementally – and now he realized it seemed to be coming from the Eureka site after all.

Had that been it all along?  Rhodes had told him the area had been hit – satellite imagery confirmed it – but the tower was built off-shore – had it somehow been missed?  Or perhaps only partially damaged?

But then it was gone again.

Across the board, the coordinates for the launch had effectively been erased.

The launch countdown, however, continued.

General Rhodes’ clearance codes had passed through.  The order had been given.

Tom looked blankly at the screens even as they continued to blink like strobe lights.

“Oh my God,” he breathed, as the full import struck.

The silos were firing blind – two dozen tactical nukes.

And at the moment, he couldn't even watch.

The countdown ticked off at ten minutes and counting.

Chapter 26

The Pacific Fleet stretched out for miles – every surviving carrier on the west coast.  In between the fortress-sized ships, the destroyers patrolled.

There was a rumble in the air as squadrons of fighter jets roared to life – readying for war – a battle for ownership of the planet.

The creature that circled below had once ruled these waters – absolutely, and in number.

Hidden at the twilight where visibility