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The Longest Day (Ark Royal X)

Page 13

by Christopher Nuttall


  His kids were dead. And there was nothing he could do.

  A piece of debris flew past him. He steered the worker bee after it, knowing he’d be lucky if he managed to catch up before the rock fell into the atmosphere. But what else could he do?

  ***

  “Seven asteroids and five industrial nodes have been hit,” Hanson reported. “Death tolls ...”

  “Save it,” Jon growled. The industrial nodes had been evacuated, when the alien fleet arrived, but there had been no time to evacuate most of the civilian asteroids. Some people had made it out ... he shook his head. In hindsight, the asteroids should have been evacuated long ago. “Have the ground-based defences been alerted?”

  “Yes, sir,” Hanson said. “They’re already engaging pieces of falling debris.”

  “Order the orbital defences to engage as well, if they’re not otherwise occupied,” Jon said, grimly. “And prepare the bomber flight to launch.”

  “Aye, sir,” Hanson said.

  Jon nodded, grimly. The alien fleet had done immense damage ... there was no way to avoid it. It could be repaired, of course, but not quickly. Losing so many civilians would probably have bad effects too. Earth’s asteroid halo played host to some of the most powerful people in the solar system. Now ... he didn't want to know how many of them had died. The halo’s reputation for safety - established during the later years of the Age of Unrest - had drawn hundreds of thousands of people to orbit.

  He pushed the thought aside. Most of the falling debris would either burn up in the atmosphere or be blown to bits before it reached the ground, but some pieces would get through. His orbital defences had too many alien ships to engage, while there were places that couldn't be defended by the planetary defence centres. A large chunk of debris that fell into the Pacific Ocean would send tidal waves racing across the globe. Hundreds of thousands of people would die.

  And we can't do anything about it, he told himself, grimly. We just have to keep fighting and hope for the best.

  He looked at his aide. “What’s the latest update from Admiral Robertson?”

  “Home Fleet will be ready to move into position to engage the enemy in twenty minutes, once they’ve completed their concentration,” Hanson said. “They’re currently preparing their counteroffensive.”

  “Good,” Jon said.

  He was tempted to order Hanson to tell Admiral Robertson to expedite, but he knew it would be pointless. Home Fleet would be moving as fast as possible. He contemplated the vectors for a long moment, wondering if it would be worth advising Admiral Robertson to try to pin the aliens against the moon. If the lunar mass drivers survived that long, the aliens would be in some trouble. Maybe they’d underestimate the threat. So far, the mass drivers hadn't struck a single target.

  The display updated again, warningly. A dozen pieces of rock were going to strike the surface, despite the planetary defences. And that meant ...

  All hell is going to break out down there, Jon thought. It had been decades since the last major terrorist attack ... and that had been several orders of magnitude smaller than a single asteroid strike. There will be utter panic.

  “Admiral, they’re launching another set of starfighters,” Hanson reported. “And recalling their first squadrons.”

  “I see,” Jon said. It wasn't the pause in the storm he wanted, but it would have to do. “Order the starfighter squadrons to regroup and reform, then deploy half of them to cover the bombers.”

  “Aye, sir,” Hanson said. “The bombers will take heavy losses.”

  “I know,” Jon said, sharply.

  He closed his eyes for a long moment. On the display, the alien squadrons were approaching the moon.

  At least we have a decent chance of blasting them with the mass drivers, he thought. But they’ll be shooting back at us all the time.

  ***

  Lily had been told, time and time again, that when the emergency alarms sounded, she had to go straight to the nearest shelter and hide there. Eight-year-old girls weren't meant to do anything else, she’d been told. If her parents weren't there, she was to speak to the nearest adult and get them to report her presence ... once she was in the shelter. Going to the shelter was important. But the handful of adults in the shelter didn't seem to have any time to help her, if they’d even noticed her. They were panicking, shouting words Lily had been told never to use. And the lights were flickering ...

  She told herself, firmly, that she needed to be grown-up. She wasn’t a baby. Her parents trusted her. But she wanted them, desperately. She wanted to be told that everything would be fine. And yet ... she’d never seen the lights fail before. The asteroid was safe. Her parents had told her so many horror stories about Earth that she had no intention of ever living there.

  The floor shook under her feet. She checked her suit quickly, silently grateful that her parents had forced her to learn how to put it on without help. Whatever was going on, it had to be bad. The grown-ups were looking around, frantically. The gravity seemed to grow stronger for long moments, then weaken until they were almost in zero-g. Lily wished, desperately, that her parents were there, but they were ... doing something. If she'd stayed with her friend ...

  A long rumble echoed through the air. The gravity failed completely. She looked up, just in time to see pieces of dust and stone falling from the ceiling. The grown-ups screamed at her to put on her helmet, an instant before the shelter shattered around her. Air rushed past her, snatching her helmet out of her hands and tossing it ... tossing it into space. Earth glowed below her, blue and green against the darkness of space. There were ... things ... nearby, falling towards the planet ... she felt herself moving, an instant before someone grabbed hold of her leg. She twisted, just in time to see one of the grown-ups pulling her back. He was holding a life-support bubble in one hand, the device automatically inflating. She tried to remember how to use it as he pushed her into the bubble, an instant before he lost his grip and plunged up - or down - towards Earth. And then the bubble itself started to move as a piece of ... something ... slammed into it.

  Lily started to scream. But it was already far too late.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ward Mansion, Penzance, United Kingdom

  “Nothing useful on the BBC, of course.”

  Molly nodded, tersely. Lady Penelope seemed to want Garrison and her to stay in the main room, even though she would have preferred to wait somewhere else. But the hall was quiet, now that two-thirds of the staff had left to see to their own families. Molly wished she’d thought to see if one of them had a working car before they’d gone, but she’d been too busy trying to draw something - anything - off the datanet.

  “Of course not,” Garrison said. He sat on a comfortable chair, drinking a glass of wine. “The BBC never tells us anything useful.”

  “There’ll be people in the offices, making sure that nothing inconvenient gets out,” Lady Penelope said. “Like the truth, for example.”

  Molly shook her head in grim disbelief. She’d grown far too used to modern telecommunications. A few hours ago, she’d been able to talk to someone on the far side of the planet - or even the moon - without any significant delays. She certainly hadn’t been more than an hour or two away from home. But now her world had shrunk and the distance between Penzance and Woking seemed insurmountable. She remembered rolling her eyes, in history class, at just how small Britain had been in the past. Now, she understood just how many limitations her ancestors had faced. They’d certainly never been able to fly to France, let alone halfway around the planet, for breakfast.

  She glowered at the television set. It wasn't telling her anything useful, beyond vague reports of troubles on the streets and - once again - incoming alien ships. There was certainly nothing she wanted to hear, starting with when the curfew would be lifted. She’d checked the phone every twenty, but the network remained down. There was no way she could send a message to her children.

  “Sit down,” Lady Penelope said. She indic
ated the drinks cabinet. “Have a drink?”

  “No, thank you,” Molly said. She just didn't want to drink. Alcohol led to bad decisions, in her experience. God knew she’d already drunk far too much. The sober-up had cleared her system, but left her feeling weak at the knees. She really needed to get some rest. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Garrison eyed her, blearily. “There's nothing you can do,” he said. His voice was very flat. His hand shook as he poured himself yet another glass. “I think we should go to bed.”

  Molly scowled at him. To think she’d thought highly of him, once upon a time. She felt sick when she remembered what they’d been doing in his car. To think she’d ... she felt her gorge rise and suppressed it, ruthlessly. She was not going to throw up on Lady Penelope’s carpet, whatever else she did. Knowing her luck, the carpet was worth more money than her entire family would see in their entire life.

  “I can't sleep,” she said, crossly. She hoped he’d take the hint. He was already half-drunk. If he decided to push his claim on her, she’d have to knee him in the groin and hope she didn't wind up being arrested for assault. She doubted the charges would stick, but it would reveal to everyone what she’d been doing. “Go to bed if you want.”

  She wandered over to the drinks cabinet and inspected the contents. As she’d suspected, everything was expensive beyond belief. There were no non-alcoholic drinks, no energy drinks ... she was tempted to ask for a glass of water, but she had no idea if there was any water. The nasty part of her mind speculated that Lady Penelope might not even know how to work the tap! No doubt she had a servant who turned the water on and off for her.

  The thought saddened her, even though she knew it was probably nonsensical. Lady Penelope - and Garrison - had grown up in a world of utter privilege. They’d been surrounded by servants from birth to ... to now. And it had warped them beyond recognition. Garrison had considered himself entitled to her - probably still considered himself entitled to her - but he didn’t even know how to drive a car! She’d wanted to move into the upper crust, yet ... had it really been a good idea? What would happen to her children if they were raised amongst the nobility?

  “Ah,” Lady Penelope said. She jabbed a finger at the screen. “This might be more interesting.”

  “... Enemy forces have engaged Earth’s defenders,” the BBC talking head said. He sounded flat, utterly atonal. “Fighting has spread through the orbital defences ...”

  Garrison looked up. “We should be on the roof,” he said. He stood, picking up the bottle as he moved. “Let’s go.”

  Molly exchanged glances with Lady Penelope, then followed Garrison up a tiny stairwell and onto the roof. Some of the party had been held there, she recalled, although she hadn't had a chance to see for herself before the alert had sounded. Now, there were a handful of tables scattered around the rooftop, covered with the remains of a buffet. Molly wondered, as she looked up, just how much food had been wasted. She had a nasty feeling they’d come to regret the loss in the next few days.

  “My God,” Garrison said.

  Lights flickered, high overhead. Molly stared, unable to look away. She’d never seen the halo, but she’d heard Kurt’s stories. Hundreds of asteroids, thousands of industrial nodes, defence stations and ... her imagination failed her. She’d vaguely considered trying to find a home there, once upon a time. But Kurt had never been interested in moving and the idea had died, back when they’d both taken their marriage seriously. Now ...

  She watched lights twinkle into existence, then vanish into the darkness. It was hard to believe, as the lights grew brighter, that there were living people up there, fighting to survive against a merciless onslaught. She wondered, grimly, if the lights were starfighter pilots dying ... she’d met a few of Kurt’s buddies when they’d been dating, years ago. If Kurt had been called back to service, how many others had been recalled too? Did she know anyone up there?

  The sound of helicopters echoed through the night. She looked north, realising - for the first time - just how dark the landscape had become. Lady Penelope’s hall didn't seem to have lost power - it was possible that there was a generator in the basement - but the remainder of the country was chillingly dark. Or maybe there was no one out there ... she couldn't recall if there were any small towns or villages close to the estate.

  She turned and looked west. Penzance was still visible, a faint glimmer of light against the darkness. The power wasn't out, then. Or perhaps the government felt it needed to keep the cities lit up. She wondered at it for a long moment, as she peered towards the distant waters. There were fewer lights on the sea than she recalled, but they were still there ...

  A cold wind blew across the estate. She shivered, wishing she’d thought to bring a proper coat. The one she had brought was good enough to protect her dress - although the dress itself was in pretty poor condition - but not good enough to keep her warm. She shivered again as she looked up, watching the lights dancing across the sky. It was almost beautiful, in a way. And yet, she knew there were men and women dying up there.

  “Remarkable,” Garrison said. He held out the bottle. “Would you like a drink?”

  “No, thank you,” Molly said, tartly. “Put the bottle down and watch.”

  Garrison ignored her, lifting the bottle to his lips and taking a swig. Molly sighed and turned her attention back to the skies. Pieces of fire seemed to be dipping into the atmosphere, falling like fireworks and petering out somewhere high overhead. She shivered, once again, as she realised what it meant. The orbital defences were taking a beating and the debris was falling from the skies ...

  “You’re cold,” Garrison said. He stumbled up next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Let me warm you up.”

  Molly gritted her teeth as his fingers started to fiddle with her coat, trying to open the way to her breasts. She had no idea if they could repair their relationship - she had no idea if she wanted to repair their relationship - but right now she felt nothing but utter revulsion at the thought of him touching her. His fingers kept probing ... she stepped back, then pushed him away as hard as she could. Garrison stumbled and sat down hard. The bottle of alcohol crashed to the ground and shattered, spilling everywhere. He stared at her as if he couldn't quite believe what had happened.

  “That ... that was a ’66 Claret, you ... you peasant,” he managed. He definitely sounded drunk. Molly hoped he’d forget everything after a long night’s sleep. “You ...”

  “I suppose I should stick to the gin,” she said, tartly. She’d definitely gone off him. “And perhaps a little beer, when I’m feeling frisky.”

  A light blazed, high overhead. She looked up, just in time to see ... something ... burning through the upper atmosphere, followed by several more. A handful seemed to vanish - she thought she saw beams of light touching them - but the others kept going until they fell over the horizon. She stared, feeling oddly uneasy. There was something about it that nagged at her mind, something important ...

  There was a brilliant flash of light, just over the horizon. Molly covered her eyes as night turned to day, too late. Moments later, there was a long roll of thunder. The sound was so loud that she dropped to the rooftop, covering her ears as best as she could. And then silence fell so sharply she could hear birds hooting in the trees. They must have been woken up by the thunder.

  “... Fuck,” Garrison managed. He stumbled onto his knees, looking unsteady. “What was that?”

  “I don’t know,” Molly said. She vaguely recalled seeing something that looked like it, but she couldn't remember what. “I ...”

  Her smartphone bleeped. She jumped, then reached for the device. She'd assumed it was useless, now the network had been deactivated. And yet, an emergency message was blinking on the display, warning her to seek high ground. She stared down at it, unable to comprehend what she was seeing. High ground? Why?

  Something ... shifted ... in the air. She turned and looked east, suddenly certain that something was out the
re in the darkness. And yet, there was nothing ... she looked from side to side, trying to see what might be lurking there. She wished, suddenly, for a pair of night-vision goggles, something that would help her see in the dark. Kurt had loved to buy little devices like that, when they’d had the money. She knew where they were. She’d just never thought to bring them with her.

  “The boats,” Garrison said. “Look!”

  Molly followed his pointing finger. The lights on the waters were rising into the air ... she stared, unable to comprehend what she was seeing. How could a boat rise into the air? She'd seen seaplanes - she’d even seen a couple of luxury yachts that doubled as airplanes - but why would they be flying now? And then it dawned on her. The water was rising ...

  “My God,” she breathed.

  A great swell of darkness was rushing towards them at terrifying speed. Whatever had hit the water had started a tidal wave ... she stared, transfixed. She wanted to turn and run, but where could she go? There was nowhere to hide, as far as she knew. They were already on the highest part of the estate. She wished, suddenly, that she’d started walking as soon as they discovered the cars were useless, but ... she would have been caught on the roads. The water would have crushed her like a bug.

 

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