The Slip

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The Slip Page 22

by Tom C Willoughby


  “They don’t understand. There’s no time to explain,” Li said out loud to nobody.

  “Why isn’t the fire system working!?” Li asked the men next to him.

  “It is working, sir, the concentration levels are rising.”

  “Full blast. Don’t turn it off. Keep it going full blast!” Li demanded.

  “Yes, sir, the system is still pumping at full capacity.”

  What Li didn’t know was that carbon dioxide was heavier than air, requiring at least 75% of the volume of the room to be filled with CO2 before it reached head level and caused real problems for the occupants.

  The other thing Li didn’t know was that the security officers had not turned the system on full blast, hoping to give their colleagues time to handle the situation and survive the ordeal.

  101

  AS SOON AS THE LADDER hit the copper wire, an arc of power ripped through it into the water. The lights dimmed and the ladder was forcefully ejected backwards, nearly hitting Sam as it flew past and crashed against the opposing wall.

  Unsure what, if any, damage had been done by the brief connection, Sam had an idea to create the circuit again and keep the ladder in place this time. He grabbed the mop from the corner and placed the wet braided cords of the mop against the ladder balanced vertically in front of him. Sam moved his hands back towards the end of the wooden handle, being careful to keep the ladder balanced. He took a deep breath and slowly pushed the ladder forward, finally pushing hard with the mop once the ladder hit the live wire. There was another crackling sound as an arc of power jumped through the ladder again to the water. A low humming sound permeated the space as the mop handle vibrated in Sam’s hands. With a loud pop the lights went out and everything became silent.

  A safety device somewhere upstream must have actuated and turned off the main power feed to their floor. Hopefully sufficient damage had been done. Sam swung the mop in the darkness finally connecting with the ladder and knocking it away from the panel. Navigating in the dark he carefully stepped down from his island to open the closet door.

  As Sam’s foot touched the water a low hum began and the lights clicked on. His heart skipped and he braced for the electrified water to send thousands of volts through his body. When nothing happened, he closed his eyes and took a quick breath to slow his heart. Then tentatively stepped fully into the water, turned the door handle and walked through.

  The space was now dimly lit and he realized what the humming noise was from. Of course! The emergency generators had kicked in, returning power to just enough lights to allow people to safely find their way to the exits.

  Sam looked at the soldiers around him and could see it was too late for them: they had already exited, their bodies floating. Sam’s attention was drawn to a crackle and hissing sound in the data center. Regaining his composure, he moved through the door he had propped open only moments ago and saw smoke rising from the metal racks of equipment.

  A modern-day data center would have had a raised floor of 12 inches or more to allow for under floor cooling and the distribution of data and power cables. This facility was much older and the equipment racks were set on the solid concrete floor. Each rack had metal adjustable legs which connected to the metal cabinets, equipment and power cords reaching into the ceiling. A couple inches of water on the floor in this case was enough to provide an electrical connection to each rack. Had there been a raised floor, the water would have drained into that cavity, and likely saved the equipment. As luck would have it, it looked like Sam had fried the endless racks of equipment. Now he needed to find the operations center and verify it was also out of commission.

  Sam started moving deeper into the data center bringing his rifle around to a ready position. He sloshed down one of the aisles of hissing and sparking equipment until he came to the opposing wall. He turned left and followed the far perimeter wall until he came to what looked like a room built into the corner of the data center.

  102

  CAPTAIN ELKS HELD UP FIVE fingers to his wingman. They were five minutes out from Zhangjiakou. It had been smooth sailing all the way in, but getting in was the easy part. They were about to announce their presence with a huge bang. It would take the defense a little while to figure out what was happening. But they would remain in Chinese airspace for an hour after dropping their payload. An hour was a long time for the enemy to search them out. If things got really hairy they would trade stealth for speed and accelerate to their Mach 1.6 max speed reducing the hour to 40 minutes. But once they were over Mach 1, everyone would hear them breaking the sound barrier, know they were there and be able to track their afterburners.

  His wingman dropped back out of view as the squadron lined up to drop their payload in immediate succession. Once released, the bombs would be guided in with extreme precision. Each successive impact would penetrate farther into the mountain and the fortified base.

  Elks checked his weapons, all systems go. He held his finger over the launch button, four and a half minutes to go.

  103

  LI WATCHED IN HORROR AND frustration as all the monitors went blank and the lights in the security room dimmed.

  With a pop the lights overhead came back to full power and the monitors flickered back to life. Li watched as a minimal number of the basement lights turned on again.

  The dim light left corners of darkness and combined with the rippling surface of the water to give the impression he was looking at an underground cavern.

  Looking around at the various monitors Li saw not a single standing soldier left. Some were face down in the water, some in awkward positions against walls where they had fallen.

  Li watched as the electrical room door opened and a man stepped out. “SON OF A BITCH!” Li yelled through clenched teeth. His entire body was in rigor mortis, flexed into a seething ball of anger as he screeched uncontrollably.

  Now understanding that the last standing soldier was the target, the two security officers in the room sought to calm Li for their own sakes in addition to his. “Sir, the CO2 levels in the basement must be very high now, it won’t be long before it is impossible to breath in that space.”

  Still shaking Li snarled, “You better be right”.

  104

  SAM HAD STARTED TO FEEL a little groggy as he turned the corner around what he hoped was the Dragonfly operations room. A familiar looking armored door was set into this second wall; this must be the operations room. He had to pause a moment as his head started pounding and he became short of breath.

  The door looked exactly like the university operations center door, including the gun barrel portal which he made sure not to step in front of this time. Staying close to the wall and to the side of the door, Sam placed his hand on its surface. It was cool to the touch confirming it was made of steel.

  Sam could see there was a small step up into the room at the door’s base. They had built up the room a few inches to allow the door to seal properly, and the water level was barely above the lip of the step. This could be a problem, as the slightly raised floor might have kept the interior equipment above the waterline and safe from the power surge he had created.

  Sam had started to take deep breaths, almost gasping at this point to satisfy his lungs. He felt like he was going to pass out at any moment. There must be something wrong with the air.

  He placed one hand on the wall and leaned into it as he rapped on the door with his other hand. He might only have seconds and tried to think quickly to figure out what to do, but he was confused and having a hard time putting his thoughts together.

  Sam stammered as he struggled to yell through the door at its presumed occupants, “There’s something wrong with the air on this floor. We have to leave. We put down the intruder.”

  After a moment, Sam heard the sound of the rotary hatch lock turning from the inside.

  The air tasted stale and had become thick and viscous like wet concrete. Sam started to sink toward the floor in a slow motion squat as his eyes fell
shut.

  As the operations room door opened a wave of fresh air washed over him and Sam’s eyes popped open again as he breathed it in. The CO2 system did not feed into the operations room, and Sam got a few good breaths in which brought him back a little, enough to stand up again and focus better.

  His wits half returned, Sam looked into the room and saw a man lying face down in a small amount of standing water. Maybe he had been touching the metal door during the power surge? There were two upright soldiers who looked like they were talking to him but his ears weren’t working properly and he couldn’t understand what they were saying. One of the men was holding Sam by his arms helping him to stand.

  Gulping a few more breaths of the oxygen laden air pouring out of the operations room fired up more of his brain, and Sam remembered what he was supposed to be doing. He immediately noticed the equipment in the room didn’t seem to be smoking or sparking. It looked like it was operating properly as much as he could tell by the monitors. As was typical, data center equipment had redundant power sources and this room was still in action. Or more accurately it was not decisively out of action, which needed to be remedied.

  Whatever better concentration of oxygen had been in the control room was now dissipated and all three men started to have breathing issues.

  “Quickly, make your way to the elevator,” Sam told them waving them in that direction with one hand while resting his other hand on his knee to hold his fading body up.

  A memory from Jung’s past flashed into their consciousness. An intoxicated Jung had both hands on his knees as he stumbled back and forth in an alley steadying himself for the torrent of vomit that soon sprayed from his mouth.

  Gasping voices brought him back to the present. “Come on, we will help you,” one of the soldiers said, reaching for Sam’s arm.

  Hands on knees, Sam exaggerated his situation. “I need a sec. Go ahead, I will follow.”

  Without argument the two soldiers hurried past Sam toward the door to the corridor and the elevator to safety.

  “Sorry,” Sam said as he raised his rifle and shot both men in the back. He was now seeing double and watched the men fall in slow motion and noiselessly crash into the water. The still frame of the men hitting the water and the splashes frozen in mid air was seared in his mind.

  Something was definitely wrong with his mind and body. His hearing seemed to be gone again and his vision was reduced to stuttering stop action frames.

  click, click, click

  Swimming back to the present by the clicking of his rifle he realized he was still holding the trigger down and pointing his gun at the downed soldiers. He had expended all the ammunition in the clip and the hammer was clicking against the empty chamber.

  With some mental effort he commanded his finger to release the trigger. He was incredibly dizzy and stumbled backward spinning slightly and caught a glimpse of the interior of the operations room from the corner of his eye.

  shoot the equipment

  Concentrating on that thought so it wouldn’t slip away, Sam drunkenly turned and pointed his rifle in the general direction of the equipment and pulled the trigger.

  click, click

  that noise. no bullets. change clip. find clip. belt.

  Swaying wildly, Sam dropped to a knee to steady himself enough to get a new clip in the rifle. Stumbling forward he found the door jamb and leaned his back against it to keep from falling over. He now switched what little bit of concentration he had from balancing, to the rifle and its mission.

  Darkness

  Violent punches to his shoulder brought Sam around as he was still leaning against the door jamb. Realizing it was the rifle kick back he adjusted his aim and strafed the equipment in the room but unable to move properly, he ran out of bullets as he got halfway around the room.

  sparks. good. screens fuzzy. good. more.

  The adrenaline the rifle kick back had coaxed into his system was already fading, and Sam fell to his knees, his head hung forward and his vision was filled with the body of the dead man on the floor in front of him. From afar he looked like a grief stricken man weeping at the side of a fallen comrade. In reality he was a severely oxygen deprived man about to pass out on top of a stranger.

  Seeing the spare clips on the dead man’s belt a far off thought sparked in Sam’s darkening mind, trying to ignite something important.

  Darkness

  He saw his hand reach for the clip.

  Darkness

  The click of a clip sinking home in his rifle.

  Darkness

  What the fuck is that pain in my shoulder.

  Darkness

  Halfway standing.

  Darkness

  Still image of a muzzle flash at the end of his rifle. Sparks flying from the equipment.

  Darkness

  Sparks from equipment on his right next to the wall. Made it around the rest of the room.

  Darkness

  Finally. I can rest. Feels so good.

  Darkness

  Darkness

  Darkness

  105

  CAPTAIN ELKS WATCHED THE TARGETING system countdown as they approached the drop point.

  7…6…5

  At zero they would be at the optimal location above the Zhangjiakou facility for him to release his bunker busters.

  4…3…2

  Elks pressed the launch button and was jolted out of his focus by a crackle in his ear, “ABORT, ABORT. DISENGAGE TARGET. I repeat, DISENGAGE TARGET.”

  Elks immediately released his finger from the partially depressed button. He wasn't sure if he had reacted quickly enough and checked the weapons system. All four bombs were still in their bays.

  He saw the string of jets that had been behind him as he performed a sharp turn reversing direction back to base. He started shaking as his body reacted to the adrenaline dumping into his system.

  Holy shit, doesn't get closer than that!

  Ajax had just received the same order and waves of relief shuddered through him. The B2s were still two hours from the target and the final decision to follow orders and start a potential nuclear war. That was closer than he ever wanted to be to this situation. The flying wings banked into a U-turn and headed for home.

  Rear Admiral Bellows, commander of the seventh Fleet currently patrolling the South China Sea, had just received a similar order from high command. He conveyed the order to his armada and watched out of the control tower window of the nuclear-powered supercarrier, the USS Ronald Reagan, as his FA18 Super Hornet jets started taxiing to the elevators to be lowered to the hangar deck.

  A hidden member of the seventh Fleet, one of the accompanying nuclear submarines hundreds of feet below, relayed the Admiral’s order to its crew.

  Lieutenants John Wilson and DeShawn Clack slowly removed their hands from their nuclear missile launch keys. They looked at each other, overcome with relief from the magnitude of what they might have had to do. The two proud and strong soldiers found themselves in a shaky and tearful embrace.

  106

  SAM’S CONSCIOUSNESS AWOKE TO THE sound of quiet voices. He stood in a ring with four others around a soft light. It was too dim to see beyond their circle, and from more a sense than an observation he felt they were in a cave. They were clearly in the middle of a discussion but he could not match voices with the speakers.

  “Our momentum has been nullified and we are not making progress any longer.”

  “Yes, everyone feels it and we are running out of weapons. The Protector continues to take and destroy them faster than we can replenish them.”

  “What about the DSS seed farm? There still might be hope there.”

  “Our last visit seemed to confirm our worst thoughts. It appears their situation is much more dire than ours and will continue down that path.”

  “Hmm”

  “Some of the others are approaching the singularity but outcomes are still unknown and we will have to wait.”

  There was a melancholy mood in th
e room and a resigned pessimism in their voices.

  Everything seemed off to Sam. As the men shifted slightly where they stood, the light would briefly illuminate their features giving them a reptilian look. Three of the men appeared to be wearing hard surfaced clothing or maybe it was armor, it wasn't like anything Sam had seen before.

  Realizing he was integrated the least amount possible in his host, Sam moved forward to take full control.

  Sam felt the now familiar invisible barrier, its mass that of a mountain, immovable. The sense of the obstruction was such that it made Sam feel like an insect trying to push a planet.

  He felt the mountain slowly react to his pressure, giving Sam some space. At the same time silence overtook the room, and all four men in the circle turned their heads and looked directly at him. Sam felt what seemed like a million other faces turn their eyes upon him also.

  A heavy voice from within his host’s mind spoke to Sam. It was the voice he would expect a mountain would have.

  “John, is that you?”

  107

  BRIAN STORM AND THE REST of the DARPA team sat around the table in the conference room that they had been using as their base of operations for months now.

  The phone rang and Brian reached for it without taking his eyes from the monitors.

 

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