by Td Barnes
Everywhere he looked; soldiers and airmen carried military cots, cooking essentials, sanitation systems, fuel storage, in addition to military weapons and ordnance from the staging area into the mountain. He did a double take when he saw the arrival of a semi load of nothing but bicycles complete with spare tires, tubes, and parts, realizing that his past-published lists of survival essentials missed many items that he saw arriving at the mountain today. From his own line of secret work, he understood his not knowing of the existence of some of the items coming. In any case, having over five miles of tunnel made the bicycles most welcome for the travel needs of his people.
The driver eased the Humvee to near the portal and parked near a National Guard lieutenant colonel monitoring the movement of equipment into the mountain. She saw Bradley dismount in uniform and hurried over to greet him only seconds ahead of an entourage of ranking military officers rushing to meet their new boss. Bradley exchanged introductions with each of them and excused them to continue with their work with the promise that the staff would meet later to become acquainted and discuss what lay ahead.
Lt. Col. Jane Barlow, born in San Diego, arrived in Henderson, Nevada with her parents while a teenager. She attended ROTC at Basic High School in Henderson and during her four years at UNLV where she majored in political science.
Barlow joined the Nevada Army National Guard a second lieutenant and deployed on three tours of Southeast Asia with an assignment to the 422nd Expeditionary Signal Battalion. She and Stacey could have passed as sisters from their excellent physical appearances. Both wore their hair short-styled and possessed a quiet air of knowledge, authority, and sophistication.
“Sir, I am Lt. Col. Jane Barlow, your XO.” She gestured towards the soldiers carrying the equipment into the mountain and to some posted armed guards a bit farther out on the perimeter. “We have deployed a company of our married soldiers to remain at the mountain. Their families are packing their essentials to join up when they bring the PEs.”
PEs?”
“Acronym for professionally essential. We have doctors, nurses, dentists, and even a veterinarian along with the necessary medical equipment and supplies arriving soon. They will set up the medical modules within the tunneled alcoves. We are pouring concrete throughout the tunnel complex, and it needs to cure a bit more before we bring in any vehicle loads or heavy equipment.”
Bradley nodded acceptance of the descriptive name. “How long before we can expect the arrival of the military dependents? I assume they will arrive with the civilian families of the PEs.”
“Three days, sir,” she said. “We’re holding everyone in a transient area at Nellis Air Force Base to shelter them for their protection. The gangs have already taken over Las Vegas, Henderson, and Boulder City.” Barlow gave Bradley a happy grin. “Sir, your wife and you will be glad to know that both of your children are here. They are inside the mountain.”
“What? How?”
“Your son, Jerry apparently showed up at Amargosa Valley with a girlfriend and joined the cattle drive to the mountain. Your daughter, Samantha, is a member of the Homeland Security contingent being sheltered here.”
Bradley felt euphoric at the fantastic fortune of having his family together. Even during the distractions demanding his every thought, the worry about his children always managed to creep in. He knew the hell Stacey must be feeling, but being a seasoned soldier’s wife, she never bothered him with her motherly concerns. He turned to look back at Stacey sitting in the vehicle. “Jer and Sammie are at the mountain.”
Stacey could hardly hear him but read his lips. She quickly exited the Humvee and rushed to join Bradley and Barlow. “Thank God. Where?”
“Captain Callahan,” Barlow called out to an officer talking to a junior officer supervising the inventorying of the supplies entering the mountain. “Have the sergeant major take over the inventory, and you take Mrs. Bradley to her son and daughter.”
“Thank you, Colonel.” Bradley recognized the captain from when he delivered the MREs to Beatty. Bradley nodded recognition to him and turned back towards his XO while removing his sunshades and wiping the sweat from his forehead.
Barlow said, “The ozone layer is definitely screwed. I see you are wearing your sunglasses. That is necessary with the ozone layer the way it is. The temperature here, even at night has not dropped below 105 degrees Fahrenheit. It is 118 degrees today. You can see how it is impossible to touch anything with bare hands. We issued gloves to the troops. I have not decided whether it is fortuitous or not, but the temperature stays constant at about 62 degrees inside the mountain. For what it’s worth, we found roughly 100 electric heaters in the tunnel that DOE and Sandia National Laboratories used to mimic the extreme temperature of the waste canisters caking the walls. Sir, you would not believe the stuff in that mountain. This is not merely a storage facility — it is a friggin laboratory. I do not have a clue what half of it is or what it did or does. You will not believe what is being delivered.”
“I can see that from here. I saw the bicycles. Someone is thinking creatively and unconventionally. Sixty-two degrees, huh? That will take some lifestyle adjustment. If we need heaters, having only 100 with no spare parts could be a problem.” He looked at the massive air conduits emerging from the top of the portal. “We may design a central heat source.” He recalled the Sandia National Laboratories was at TTR where he had witnessed the bunker buster bomb drop.
While they talked, Bradley noticed when an enlisted man stood up and left a desk with many the new arrivals lined up in front of it. He saluted while approaching Bradley, “Sir,” he said. “Here is your film badge and helmet.” He handed Bradley a lightweight ballistic helmet bearing Bradley’s name and rank. Bradley thanked the soldier while clipping the identification badge with the attached dosimeter onto the flap of his shirt pocket. He stuck the helmet under his arm.
“What else can you tell me about what I’ll find inside the mountain?” He asked Barlow while focusing on the entrance.
“The main tunnel is U-shaped, 5 miles long and 25 feet wide. Once you enter the mountain, the main tunnel slopes downward to the 600-foot level and form into a U-shape with a grid of smaller adits that continue down to about 950 feet with numerous niches, cathedral-like alcoves, and storage rooms branching off those smaller tunnels. The alcoves house most of the scientific instruments and equipment. I understand that if they had completed the project, they planned to have 40 miles of tunnel for storing nuclear waste. Even in its neglected state, with the scientific gadgets, the inside looks more like a theme park after closing time.”
“Amazing. All that inside that opening. I can see now why we need some of the supplies, especially the bicycles.”
Barlow continued. “The tunnel is still sloughing a rock ever now and then, so we’re requiring everyone to wear a Kevlar helmet in the tunnel. I assumed you would prefer the Special Ops to the ACH, advanced combat helmet that we are issuing the civilians. Our military is wearing the MICH, modular integrated communications helmet like yours.”
She glanced towards his dosimeter. “The film is a beta-gamma film made by DuPont, and the attached dosimeter is a neutron manufactured by Kodak. The letter M on your badge identifies you as being military. We are lucky.”
She added, “We are fortunate having the dosimeters.”
Barlow nodded in agreement. “The previous tenant left us these film badges and a completely stocked radiation services laboratory. We are moving it into the mountain along with four medical modules furnished by Starquest. Incidentally, we have installed an Army nuclear power plant brought in from the former Nevada Test Site. The tunnel came wired so we will have lights on before nightfall. REECo that is Reynolds Electric Company is also installing chemical lighting. It is still a bit damp and smells like fresh cement, but tonight our people will sleep in a cool, safe environment with no heavenly light display to keep them awake. The sense of being safe should lift the morale considerably.”
The Army RS-MHR n
uclear power plant, better described as a small, modular, helium-cooled reactor, came equipped with ceramic-coated fuel particles capable of producing sufficient power to handle remote communities and military bases. The XO assured Bradley of enough extra power plants now stored inside the mountain to power it for 190 years, even if ran continuously to run the heaters and provide artificial lighting for a photosynthesis garden. That is when Bradley learned of Starquest Aerospace in North Las Vegas providing a photosynthesis garden initially planned for delivery to the International Space Station and eventually to space colonies on the moon or Mars.
Barlow directed Bradley to where SGM Jack Weston stood issuing instructions to a couple of staff sergeants. “Sergeant Major, meet our CO, Colonel Thomas Bradley.” Bradley and Weston exchanged salutes and shook hands. “We met yesterday at Beatty,” he informed Barlow. “I am happy to have you aboard, Sergeant Major.”
"The sergeant major is with the 422nd Signal Battalion, sir, with more deployment than most of us. He owns an electrical service and repair business in Las Vegas,” Barlow informed Bradley while they watched the sergeant major resume his supervision of the military activities. “The sergeant is well respected in military circles and the business sector. He is a member of the Nellis Air Force Base Support Team and the Las Vegas Civilian Military Council.”
Weston, a short, husky built man, 42 years of age, spoke soft mannered; yet forceful enough that no one questioned his authority. A definite air of knowledge and responsibility complimented his quiet manners to paint him being a far-reaching, no-nonsense leader. Weston, a US Army Sergeants Major Academy graduate, trained to be a de facto civil affairs officer for military occupations and peacemaking operations — building an economy, restructuring the infrastructure, and creating a political system.
Bradley quickly grasped his new command consisting of military personnel specialists and first responders in dealing with civil recovery from war, in effect the very things that they were doing here. Unique about having members of the National Guard, they and their spouses were technically civilians employed in various trades except when on active military duty. Barlow’s wife, Barbara taught at a high school in Las Vegas.
“Sergeant Major, it appears your people have everything under control, so I will get my wife settled in if you will show me to my quarters.”
“Will do, sir. Yes, we have any contingencies covered. We are concentrating on getting the new arrivals settled in. You can see that the handcar is hauling in supplies. I had the troops knock off everything to help settle in the people so they do not must work around them. Once the civilians get moved in, we will put them to work also. They need to stay busy to keep their minds off this upsetting of their lives. The quicker we load them with responsibility, the quicker they will accept their fate. Per your orders, our medical staff is screening everyone for disabling medical issues before we allow them into the mountain.”
Bradley hoped that none already present at the mountain would fail this medical screening. He felt comfortable with the screening done by Robinson and the nurse because they personally knew the history of those they screened. They did not; however, have these options in the VIP selection or those arriving from the Amargosa Valley. How could he possibly reject someone already settled in at the mountain? How could he kick someone out and send them stomping through the Mojave Desert to certain death? He buried himself into the management of his new command to escape such thoughts.
One could feel the tenseness and weigh the excitement of the new arrivals undergoing processing and introduction to new homes distributed throughout five miles of tunnel. Nervous women and wide-eyed children marveled at being in a large tube and surrounded by soldiers carrying weapons while escorting them down a gentle grade, under cold white fluorescent lights, with cold air blowing on their necks from the intake of the ventilation system. The XO was right — the place looked like an underground theme park.
The evacuees found the overall evacuation experience unforgettable with lines of people forming in a large alcove located between the Command Center and the #1 mess. There, the quartermaster and a group of Nevada National Guard soldiers issued an Army cot and a footlocker to each new arrival.
Two female soldiers formed the single individuals in one line and families in another with a further grouping of male, female, couples, and families. They further grouped the families by number and ages of any accompanying children. Soldiers at the head of each line entered laptop computer a brief bio entry for everyone, issued them a number, and printed their name on a strip of color-coded plastic for posting at the entrance to their assigned alcove.
At another table, three soldiers worked in unity to assign the individual or family an alcove based on the number assigned them. The need to maintain records of everything did not cease even with the world on the verge of ending.
At the end of the processing line, a group of soldiers waited like check out boys to assist the individuals and families in obtaining an Army cot, footlocker, and a box of miscellaneous personal hygiene items from a counter in the quartermaster alcove.
Based on the assigned number, a soldier then assisted the new arrival to the designated alcove. Those assigned quarters close to the quartermaster alcove carried their cot and footlocker by making two trips.
Those more in-depth in the tunnel awaited their turn to use the handcar to transport their cot, footlocker, and possessions with the assisting soldiers, organizing their handcar trips to consolidate loads for multiple alcoves in the same vicinity. Overall, the entire operation proved to be very efficient with minimum stress to the civilians. Bradley later commemorated this military professionalism to the company commander and his XO.
Bradley’s selection criterion required the deployment of only married National Guard personnel; however, this requirement allowed for single dependents of the National Guard, PEs, and families from Beatty and the Amargosa Valley.
The single men and women each shared eight to a room while couples, married or single, shared two sets to an alcove with partitions providing them visual privacy. Families with two or more children similarly shared the larger nooks. Teenagers below the age 14 obtained privacy by having a barrier separating them from the rest of the family. Young adults housed together with the same arrangement afforded the single PEs. A family area towards the middle of the tunnel housed families with children.
Most arriving took a moment to plan the arrangement of their new home rather than passively acting depressed at moving into a nook of nothing but rock. This became a topic of comparison and laughter later when the residents compared notes of their first impression of their new home using the stone of the mountain for walls.
Weston took the colonel and Stacey to their quarters, a small alcove located near the more massive Command Center alcove and adjoining radio niche.
Throughout the tunnel, the placement of the artificial lights designated a code to identify alcoves and compartments by a variety of shapes, color, and arrangement. The lights identified an alcove, nook, niche, or location being that of an executive, staff member, cook, maintainer, etc. Additional color strips at an entrance signified special meanings or messages. A blue-colored chemical light strip vertically displayed identified this being the commander’s quarters.
Stacey’s experience did not differ from that of most of the wives settling into the mountain. Moments after the sergeant major showed them to their quarters, four soldiers arrived with cots, footlockers, linens, towels, and other personal hygiene items that they arranged in their quarters consisting of nothing but rock. She plucked a small stone out of the wall and scratched the shape of a window on the wall. Smiling at a female soldier helping with the delivery of their things, she said. “All I need now is a set of curtains. See if the supply sergeant has any blue ones with fringe on the bottom.” They both laughed. Bradley chuckled while negatively shaking his head in humor, but said nothing. Stacey, with that one playful act, established a legacy of respect within the members of th
e military. Everyone, civilians, and military alike considered her one of them.
Tom and Stacey spent their first night sleeping on Army cots inside their assigned alcove heated by an electric heater. Their daughter Sammie and son Jer received single VIP accommodations. No-one slept well because of the strange sounds of the tunnel, mostly the sound of rushing air circulating through the mountain. Voices in the tunnel carried extra loud. Stacey woke up twice thinking that she heard a rodent, which she most likely did
Bradley devoted his time the following day to become acquainted with those arriving to live at the mountain. He deliberately avoided interfering in the operations of his new company commander and the military personnel under the captain’s command. Not becoming bogged down with micromanaging his leading officers and NCOs afforded him the opportunity to become more familiar with the overall operation.
He counted seven CH-47 Chinook helicopters from the Silver State National Guard bringing in sling loads of equipment. While watching in amazement the number of trucks lined up to deliver supplies, he met the benefactors from Starquest Aerospace responsible for providing the mountain with items that he did not know even existed.
“Sir,” his XO said while approaching and saluting him. At her side stood a tall man dressed in blue jeans and sporting a neatly trimmed beard. Also with her appeared an equally slender woman with her hair in a ponytail and wearing blue jeans and cowboy boots. “This is Dr. George Kennedy and Starquest Aerospace botanist, Dr. Kathy Sanders. Doctor Kennedy is Starquest’s logistics engineer responsible for colonizing the extraterrestrial moon, Mars, and even asteroid venues.”
Bradley shook hands with both and waited for an explanation concerning the introductions. “Doctor Sanders is assigned to the mountain to set up a photosynthesis garden, and Doctor Kennedy is the one who organized much of the supplies that we are receiving.”