Red the First

by C. D. Verhoff

  The two stared each other down, but finally took their seats.

  “These aliens sound powerful,” Father Bob said. “What could a small primitive town like Hewego possibly do to stop them?”

  “We cannot stop them from coming, but we can stop them from taking what is ours.”

  “And how are we to do this?” Dr. Patel asked testily.

  “A full-scale nuclear attack.”

  “That’s it.” Dr. Patel stood. “I’m out of here.”

  “I’m trying to be open-minded,” Father Bob said, shaking his head. “I really am, but this is too much even for me. You want us to save ourselves by destroying ourselves? Or are we to launch the missiles into space at the Celeruns as they arrive?”

  “Mayor, Father, Elizabeth,” Dr. Patel asked expectantly. “Are you coming?”

  Red shook his head no. Elizabeth placed a hand on Red’s shoulder, indicating that she went wherever her husband went.

  “General Moore,” Father Bob said. “Try to understand how difficult this is for us. I don’t dismiss the idea of aliens outright, but I’ve never seen any proof that they exist.”

  “You don’t have proof God exists either,” the general pointed out. “Yet, you believe.”

  “The aliens, as you’ve described them, can be proven to exist by mere sensory observation. Proving the existence of a divine being that exists beyond the physical realm is a bit more complicated—don’t you agree?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Let me put it this way,” Father Bob said. “If I see an alien with my own eyes, or hear about it from a number of trusted sources, I’ll become your most faithful convert. Until then, well, call me an agnostic.”

  General Moore nodded as if he respected the other man’s position.

  “How long are you staying in Hewego?” Father Bob assumed the general would want to stay at Hewego and took it upon himself to oblige. “You’re welcome to stay at my place until we can arrange to find you a permanent place.”

  Dr. Patel’s face wrinkled with disapproval. Elizabeth knew he was angry that the priest had offered the general a place to stay. “Are you coming or not, Father?” he said sharply.

  “No, thank you,” the priest said.

  Dr. Patel slid the needle across the table toward Red. “If he gets violent, don’t hesitate to stick him. Anywhere will do, and he’ll calm down faster than you can say Vasudha.”

  Red let the sedative sit in the middle of the table as a show of trust; however, Father Bob strategically placed his palm over it and slid it out of sight.

  Elizabeth watched as Dr. Patel made his exit. If only she could dismiss the general’s claims as easily as her neighbors had, but she believed him, and the world had just gotten a lot more frightening.

  “I’m sorry about the way the town has treated you,” Elizabeth said. “They’re normally not so rude.”

  “They’re not important right now,” he said. “I don’t have time to convince everyone. Just the few that matter. And here you are.”

  “General,” Red didn’t waste time apologizing for the council, “does the United States still have the means to create nuclear war?”

  The General leaned back in his chair, interlacing his fingers behind his head, as if he had just laid down a royal flush.

  “Why, yes, we do. So do China, Russia, and the UK.”

  Red sat there, not making a sound or moving so much as a finger, so Elizabeth interjected. “A full scale nuclear war won’t save humanity, it will end it!”

  “Oh, dear, I never thought of that,” the general mocked. “If you had been paying attention, I told you that the world governments have been preparing for the Celerun threat for a very long time. The governments prepared underground bunkers, self-sufficient for an indefinite time period. That’s why I’m here, to explain where they are and how you enter them.”

  As she sat there, feeling stupid, Father Bob asked the obvious question. “Why would the Celeruns dismantle some nuclear warheads, but leave others untouched?”

  “They disarmed the weapons that they knew about,” General Moore explained. “The weapons of which I speak, the ones which you would detonate, don’t exist on paper, on computers, or anywhere except in the minds of those who are verbally informed of their existence. They’re located so deep underground that not even the Celeruns’ sophisticated instruments can pick them up. Then there are the bunkers…” he paused for emphasis. “Created to ensure humanity survives. And that’s where you come in.”

  “I see.” Red slumped back in his chair, wearing a thoughtful expression. “You want us to lead Hewego to a bunker while you nuke the planet.”

  “You are partially correct. I want you to convince as many people as you can to go to the bunker, but I can’t do it alone. I need one of you to help launch the fat boys.”

  “One of us…nuke…Earth?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Why us?”

  “The problem is this. The nukes are launched from the bunkers. But those manning them contracted the plague and died like everybody else. There are twenty-four bunkers located strategically throughout the world—and I’ve lost contact with all of them except two. In order to initiate the launch, we need at least five operating bunkers to coordinate a full-scale nuclear war. I have no way of knowing how many of the others are still occupied. My goal is to populate as many as possible by launch time. That’s why I’m here now. That’s why I’ll be leaving again shortly.”

  “But I don’t know how to operate a bunker,” Red pointed out the obvious.

  General Moore looked at Father Bob, who quipped, “Just because I taught a course on the Apocalypse in the seminary, don’t think I know anything about launching missiles or running secret government bunkers.”

  “Don’t look at me,” Elizabeth said. “I can’t even drive a stick shift.”

  “We’ll arrange for your instruction if you choose to undertake this mission,” General Moore said without even cracking a smile.

  “If we manage to figure it out,” Elizabeth asked, “then what? People aren’t meant to live underground like moles, especially children. It might be ten thousand years before the surface of the planet becomes habitable again after nuclear Armageddon. No underground bunker can operate that long.”

  “The resourcefulness of desperate people might surprise you.”

  “I dunno…” Elizabeth felt nauseous thinking about the children of Hewego being sealed under the ground for the remainder of their lives. “It’s like being entombed alive.”

  “I assure you the Galatians Bunker is nothing like a tomb. It will feel like home, a place of refuge, both during and after the strike. It is deep underground, designed to hold a maximum population of thirty-five thousand for an indefinite period of time, and it’s totally self-sustaining. A variety of energy sources power the facility. Arenas are designed to mimic the outdoors. A gigantic biosphere, and several smaller ones, with diverse plant and animal life and hundreds of acres of arable land, take up half of the bunker. There are barracks and individual housing units for families. A resourceful crew could easily live out their natural lives underground, passing down the information on how to run the facility to their children. Considering the ease of life in the bunker compared to up here now, even in a town as well-thought out as yours, I think many people will be happy there.”

  “I can’t imagine that,” Elizabeth said.

  “There’s electricity 24/7.”

  “There is?” She liked the sound of that. “Are there coffee percolators?”

  “Yes, and a designated place in the biosphere for coffee plants, plus a roasting oven, and processing area for the beans.”

  “What about chainsaws?” Red asked.

  “Yes, there are chainsaws, but you won’t need firewood because the place is heated geo-thermally.”

  “Really?” Red said, looking hopeful.

  “Really. But don’t think you’ll be sitting around idle down there. We’ve provided the tools you’l
l need to survive, but it’s up to you to use them.”

  “Hold on a minute,” Elizabeth said. “Are you even sure that a nuclear bomb can kill the Celeruns?”

  “Positive. In fact, the original purpose of the Manhattan Project was to find an effective means of deterring the Celeruns.”

  As Elizabeth and Red absorbed the latest information, the general kept on talking. “Our counterattack will be so massive that the entire earth with be contaminated with radiation. Clouds of dirt and dust will rise up into the air, blocking out the sun, creating a nuclear winter. The next aftereffect will be intense global warming. Not even the Celeruns have the means to clean up such a wide-scale disaster. They’ll have no choice but to move on to the next world. By the time our descendants emerge from the bunkers, our enemy will be long gone.”

  “But is living in a bunker any kind of life at all?” Red asked.

  “I can’t answer that question.”

  “All things are possible with the Lord.” Everyone turned to look at Father Bob. “If God wishes humanity to survive, it’s within his power to shorten the horrors following an atomic war. The Book of Revelation speaks of such things. But why do you call it the Galatians Bunker?”

  “It was named after St. Paul’s letter to the Galatians. All the bunkers’ names came from books of the bible.”

  “What’s the significance supposed to be?” Father Bob asked.

  “The construction of the bunkers began in the 1950s,” the general said. “That was a more religious era, if you know what I mean.”

  “When will you take us to this the Galatians Bunker?” Red asked.

  “I will not be going there with you. I started on the West Coast, filling the bunker in North Dakota, and there are others in the U.S. to attend to before the final countdown. I just pray that the all the participating countries have done their part in filling their own.

  “You see, each bunker has its own key. To begin the countdown, at least five of the bunkers across the world must turn their keys at the same time. Once a key is turned, each bunker has a unique launch code that must be input into the system within ninety seconds of turning the key. If any part of the sequence is botched, that bunker is out of the game. We need at least five active bunkers that turn the key, and input the code, or everything will self-abort. If done correctly, thousands of nuclear weapons will launch across the globe.”

  “Armageddon,” said Father Bob. “What are we talking—months, years?”

  “Days, weeks. The mother ship is set to land on September 18th. Setting down a craft that massive is a huge drain on Celerun resources, and therefore requires all the attention of the crew. They will be so preoccupied with the landing, it will give you an edge. That’s why we scheduled Armageddon to arrive that day at precisely 6:00 am.”

  “That’s only two months from now,” Elizabeth gasped. “And you’re planning on leaving? It’s too much to remember—too much to do.”

  “We all have our tasks. For instance, I am heading to Maryland from here in hopes of finding another Moses to lead the people into Isaiah’s Bunker. You, Red Wakeland, are the Noah of Hewego. You will lead the people to the ark, Galatians Bunker, I mean.”

  “If you remember,” Father Bob said, “the original Noah didn’t have much luck convincing the people to take shelter from the upcoming flood. They jeered, mocking him until the day the rain came.”

  “I didn’t say it would be easy,” the general said.

  Father Bob was right; the people were going to mock her husband if he tried to convince them to go to the bunker. “Please,” she pleaded. “Red has a wife, a child, and his duties as mayor keep him extra busy. Can’t you pick someone else?”

  “He’s the one,” General Moore said firmly. “I dreamt of two cops eating donuts the night before we made radio contact. When the boy used that image as a clue, I knew that I had found the right people for the job. Not very scientific, I know, but these days intuition serves me just as well.”

  The compliment about Michael made her forget the topic at hand for a moment. “That was our son,” she proudly beamed.

  “He’s a clever one,” the general said, producing a manila envelope from inside his flannel jacket. He slid it across the table to Red and Elizabeth.

  “I have committed a capital offense by putting this information onto paper, but we’re down to the last play. Inside you will find a map, schematics, and detailed instructions pertaining to the Galatians Bunker. Do not allow these to get into the wrong hands.”

  He produced a metal briefcase from underneath the table. There was an electronic keypad built into the surface. After punching several numbers on the pad, the briefcase beeped and clicked as locks released. He opened the lid, turning the case for all to see. Pushed into the foam lining were three ordinary-looking, silver-colored keys. Two spots for a fourth and fifth key were vacant.

  He handed one of the remaining keys to the mayor.

  Red held the key to the sun rays streaming through the window, turning it one way and then the other as the light flashed off its shiny surface.

  “You mean this key can destroy the world?”

  “In unison with four others and the numerical sequences—yes.”

  “What if we fail to cooperate?”

  “If you fail, humanity will die out, so never forget that your descendants are counting on you.”

  “This is very hard to accept,” Red said, his tongue cleaving to his mouth.

  “I cannot stay to talk you into doing the right thing. Travel is not easy these days. I must be in Maryland when the time comes.”

  “I don’t know about this…” Father Bob said

  “The Celerun fleet will soon be here.”

  “How do we contact you if we have more questions?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Once I leave, there will be no way to reach me. I won’t know if you’ve done your part until after the keys are turned. It will not be long before the aliens’ efforts are concentrated between our shores. Once the Celeruns are spotted, you’ll know my story is true, and it will be too late. I pray you’ll be prepared to flee before that day comes. And before I depart, I leave you this.” The general reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a device the size of a deck of cards. It was light gray and appeared to be made of quartz. No lights, no buttons, no writing adorned its surface. “A gift of technology from one of the friendlies.”

  “It looks like a rock,” Father Bob said.

  “What does it do?” Elizabeth asked.

  “It’s set to cloak all human activity—movement, warmth, smoke, noise, vibration, automotive exhaust, electromagnetic transmissions—from Celerun instrumentation. They won’t know Hewego is here until they see her with their naked pink eyes, which will buy you extra time. Mayor.” The general offered it to Red.

  He closed his fingers around it. “What’s the radius of this thing’s effect?”

  “Twenty kilometers.”

  “Is it working now?”

  “Always.”

  The general got up to shake their hands. “May our descendants meet in peace and prosperity in the not so distant future.” He handed Elizabeth the manila envelope and leaned in closer to her ear. “Your son will be a great man.”

  As he was about to walk through the doors, and out of Hewego forever, he turned to give a stoic salute. Red returned the gesture and the general gave a toothy grin. As the general departed, Father Bob went after him.

  Red growled, “The damn fools on the council won’t listen.”

  “They’re not fools, they’re good people, and you know it. If you hadn’t seen a Celerun for yourself, you’d act just as deplorable.”

  “So you believe me now—about the alien at Schlotz’s?”

  “The things I saw in the general’s head.” She shuddered, closing her eyes to try to block them out. “I can’t shake them. Now I know the memories in your head aren’t from a dream. They’re very real and I’m sorry for ever doubting you.”

  He gently b
rushed a strand of hair from her eyes, and brought his lips to hers. The way he kissed her, like she was the most precious thing in all creation, sent waves of warmth through her body.

  She tried not to see his thoughts, but in his mind they were already upstairs in bed making love. The way he wanted her, needed her, made her want to satisfy his every wish. An image of his first wife crossed his thoughts, but she had grown to accept that Kay, the first Mrs. Wakeland, would always be a part of him, lingering at the fringes of his mind. Nonetheless, she was a little jealous, and wanted his kiss to go on forever.

  “Even if no one else will come with us,” Red said. “We’ll get Michael, go to the bunker, and turn the key ourselves.”

  “We can’t turn the key on them,” Elizabeth said, waving her arm to indicate all of Hewego. “When they come to understand that the aliens are real, they’ll be fighting to get into the bunker.” She took the key from Red and shook it under his nose for emphasis. “They haven’t had the benefit of seeing a Celerun first-hand. For that reason alone, it’s your duty to prepare them for what’s coming. Not to mention the fact that you’re the mayor of Hewego, which makes you doubly responsible.”

  “You’re right,” he sighed. “Like always.”

  “I’ll help in whatever way I can,” Elizabeth promised. “Just tell me what to do.”

  “First, let’s go home and sleep on it.”

  Chapter 13

  By sleep, much to Elizabeth’s delight, Red meant fool around. There was no past or future when they made love—just the moment—blissful and glorious. Afterward, Red paced around the room looking for his clothes. He’d been in good physical shape as long as she had known him, but nothing could compare to the way he looked now. All that muscle and sinew earned from working the land, rather than the vanity of a gym, added to his sex appeal. She pulled the sheets up to her neck to watch him string the general’s key onto a chain.

  “This is for you.” He gently pulled the chain down over her head. “I feel better knowing that no matter what happens to me, you will still have a fighting chance.” He kissed the top of her head and slid in next to her on the bed, taking the general’s envelope off the nightstand. “Are we ready to see what’s inside?”