Countdown Amageddon (The Spiral Slayers Book 2)

by Rusty Williamson

  The Loud Named Bugs

  Opening Speech, 23rd Amular Symposium on Quantum Physics

  Source: The Archive

  T-Minus 0 Years

  Between Echo Charlie Seven and Amular…

  Adamarus, Dials and Van continued at their near relativistic speed toward Amular. The Blackship had continued its deceleration curve slowing rapidly and it had fallen further behind them.

  They had passed the position of Adamarus’ LAC units and found only bits of wreckage. They’d passed the positions of ASKIN One and Two…seen the wreckage of both stations—so much for the kinetic asteroid weapon.

  Communications faded in and out. They tried to report in. There was no response. However, they managed to catch bits and pieces of transmissions, and through these, discovered that the Star Cannon had been repeatedly hitting the Blackship to no apparent effect.

  In addition, they listened as reports of surviving battleships came in. Nero’s ship was not mentioned and finally Adamarus came to accept that, barring a miracle, his son Nero had perished along with so many others at Echo Charlie Seven.

  They could do nothing but wait as Amular drew closer and the Blackship continued falling behind them.

  Adamarus wondered and worried about his wife and daughter and hoped that the arks had left, taking them to safety.

  Finally, what had looked like just another star became a small crescent and then, a few days later, Amular turned into a recognizable sphere with two moons. Jumper One was racing toward it at the breakneck speed the ship had gained from its whiplash out of the black hole. It had to slow, and when the time came, it turned its rear engines toward the planet and fired them.

  ---

  Amular, The Trinity Compound…

  Lt. Bruce Feldberg wiped the sweat from his brow and attempted to speak into his com unit over the canopy of noise, “Sir, it’s a nightmare here.”

  He looked over the Trinity loading facility then up at the towering ships. Hundreds of engineers poured over the three ark ships, trying to finish the final tests and repairs while hundreds more worked at processing and loading the 300,000 passengers.

  “We’ve loaded only about five percent.” The other 95 percent stood in lines in the three large terminal buildings.

  It was a hot day–95 degrees—and the air conditioning in the terminal was overtaxed causing the temperature inside to top 100 degrees.

  Everyone knew the Blackship had not yet been stopped and was on its way and so the passengers still inside the terminals were scared, hot, tired, hungry, thirsty and irritated. Babies and children cried, people yelled and cursed, the security guards were barely maintaining control, and everyone was drenched with sweat.

  It was a nightmare.

  ---

  Grace held Isabella in one arm as she used the other to roll their one large suitcase forward several feet as the line moved. As soon as the line stopped moving, she again used both arms to hold Isabella who was in turn cradling Puddles, her kitten. They were still in line in the terminal building and had been for three hours.

  Once again, she mulled over the circumstances that had led her to choose this path. The limo had let her and Isabella off in front of the terminal and she had been told to say her name to the person at the door. However, as she turned, she had stopped in her tracks, stunned by the size of the ark ship. Had she not stopped, she would have done what the Limo driver had told her to do.

  Now, however, as she had approached the door, a couple—also VIPs—had done what she was supposed to do and were being led to a door that would take them directly onto the ship. Porters were carrying their luggage.

  Inside the terminal, thousands were standing in line, managing their own luggage and dozens were giving the couple dirty looks—some man was being quite vocal. “Hey, how come they can get right on…have their luggage carried, while the rest of us have to suffer this heat waiting in line and managing our own luggage? Hey, this is bullshit!” The man was shaking his fist. Behind him, a woman—his wife—was trying to calm him down while two small children clung to her legs.

  Seeing all this, Grace had decided right there that she would suffer what the majority of people had to suffer, carrying Isabella and Puddles and dealing with her own suitcase. She walked straight through the door without looking at the attendant.

  Inside another attendant had then ushered her to a special line for people with babies and small children, but there were many people with small children and it was a long line, even if shorter than the others were.

  Now, she was debating the wisdom of that decision. Her arms ached, she had a headache, and she was drenched in sweat, drips were rolling down her forehead and back. Certainly, Isabella and Puddles had not had a vote in her noble decision, she thought.

  Fortunately, Isabella had fallen asleep still holding her sleeping kitten and they were only three people away from the check-in window. She had to remind herself again that everyone here was a VIP and that man had had a point.

  Twenty minutes later, her room card held in her teeth and luggage, kid and kitty in tow, she made her way over an outdoor bridge, through a large thick hatch, and into the ark ship. The cool air conditioning rolled over her, immediately restoring a little of her energy.

  She stopped in front of an attendant who had approached her and she took her room card from her mouth and showed it to him. He was very young and his uniform was a little too big for him. He took a double take on her name and picture, and his eyes went wide. His expression instantly changed from tired and frazzled to a combination of awe, embarrassment and confusion.

  “Mrs. Maximus…the wife of Admiral Maximus?” She nodded. His embarrassment and confusion deepened—he pointed back to the door then to her. “Did you come from the terminal?” This was obvious from her drenched clothes and suitcase so he did not wait for her to answer. “Oh no, Mrs. Maximus, you’re a VIP. A very, very…” he waved his arms, lost for words, “…very VIP. Oh, no, no, no—someone should have escorted you on hours ago. Oh…gosh…”

  “It’s okay. I…it’s okay.” She stammered trying to smile to put the young man at ease.

  He looked around then hurriedly said, “Don’t move. I’ll be right back,” and he rushed away. Within seconds, he came running back with a young teenage girl wearing the same uniform.

  The awed look on her face told Grace that she had been told who she was. The young man took her suitcase and the young girl smiled at her and gently pried Isabella and Puddles from her saying. “Oh, Mrs. Maximus, she’s adorable. And look…” she giggled, “a kitten.”

  Grace smiled, “Thank you,” she said to the girl and then to the young man with heartfelt relief. Her arms had been about to give out.

  The young man looked again at her room card then said, “This way, Mrs. Maximus.”

  They led her to the elevators then went up eight levels, then boarded a tram and proceeded three sections forward to the VIP suites. They used her room card to open her door and led her in.

  The suite was nicer than she had expected—it wasn’t a cruise ship suite, but not too far from it, and Grace thought that it was excessively big for just the two of them. They took the still sleeping Isabella and Puddles into the bedroom and laid them on the bed.

  Grace thanked the two teenagers as she walked them to the door. As she watched them scurry down the corridor, two officers approached her. She realized with a start that the porter must have also made a quick call for it was the captain of the ship and his first officer.

  “Mrs. Maximus, I’m Captain Zimmer and this is my first officer, Commander Grayson. Welcome aboard.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Mrs. Maximus,” the captain continued, “I understand that you were processed through the boarding terminal like everyone else. I don’t know what happened, but I assure you…”

  Grace interrupted him, “Captain Zimmer, that was my decision—I did not give my name to the door attendant.” Captain Zimmer’s mouth was still open as he stared
at her in confusion, saying nothing. Grace shrugged and held up her hands somewhat embarrassed over the issue. “I know…silly, but…” she trailed off, not knowing what to say.

  Captain Zimmer said, “Well…no…I can see how you might feel…” now he trailed off as he looked beyond Grace. Isabella, holding Puddles, had appeared at the bedroom door.

  Grace turned, “Well, hello, sleepy head.” She walked over, picked her and Puddles up. “This is Captain Zimmer—the captain of the ship, honey. Say hello…”

  “Hello,” Isabella said in a small voice.

  Both officers smiled and said hello back to her. The captain stepped forward, “And what’s this little fellow’s name?” he asked.

  “This is Puddles,” Isabella said, smiling.

  Both officers looked at each other and laughed. The captain turned back to her, “Puddles, huh? Well that’s a very cute name,” he said shaking his head. “Well, you know, Isabella, see those seats over there,” he pointed to the two hi-gee seats at the other end of the room, “when the ship takes off, you and your mom will have to strap yourselves into those to make sure you’re safe.”

  Isabella looked at the two seats and nodded.

  The captain continued, “And to keep Puddles safe, we have special kitty protection containers made just for little ones like Puddles. But I’m afraid that they’re on the cargo deck.”

  Isabella furrowed her brow, then she squeezed Puddles tighter and turned away a little, moving Puddles further from the big man.

  Captain Zimmer noted this and turned to Grace. “If it will help, both of you can come down and Isabella can put Puddles in the container herself.”

  Grace bent down, “Would you like to do that, sweetie?”

  Isabella looked down and reluctantly said, “Okay.”

  The two officers left to let Grace settle in and freshen up.

  A half-hour later, the first officer, Commander Grayson, returned to escort Grace, Isabella and Puddles down to the cargo section on the lowest level.

  They passed through a cargo room filled with huge crates, then entered another room filled with animals—goats, dogs, cows, chickens and many more. They walked to the last aisle then turned. On one side, cages were bolted to the rounded bulkhead. They walked to the end of the aisle where a large open loading hatch appeared in the bulkhead. Large canvas strips hung from its top to keep the air conditioning inside. Right next to the hatch were cages holding cats, small dogs, and other small animals. They found an empty cage near the bottom.

  “Here we are,” said the first officer. The cage was padded inside and contained empty water and food dispensers. “You can put her in here.”

  “It’s a boy,” Isabella scolded the first officer. Grace helped her put Puddles in the cage. Isabella petted the kitten and told it not to worry, that everything would be all right and that she’d see him soon.

  As they closed the cage, a loud sound made them jump. Turning, they saw crew members moving a large cage through the hatch. The parting canvas strips let the bright sunlight in, blinding them briefly. When the strips closed, they could see that the cage contained a huge tiger who seemed to be sleeping.

  Isabella’s eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. “Mommy! Look! Look!”

  Grace squatted down and said, “Wow, it’s not every day you see something like that.”

  They watched the cage roll away, then Isabella looked back at the hatch, “Will that be closed?”

  “Oh, yes,” said the first officer. “They’re still loading animals, but as soon as they’re done, the hatch will be secured.”

  Isabella looked carefully around, making sure that there were no other details to check on. Finally, she nodded, “Okay.”

  Both the first officer and Grace smiled then they made their way back.

  ---

  General Rodger Allen Whitehall strutted from his command vehicle to the new pre-fab HQ building, bounced up the stairs and sharply returned the salute to the guard standing beside the entrance. De Bella had come to love his new identity.

  He walked briskly to his office, closed the door behind him and locked it, then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

  He’d been waiting for this moment for many years. Now, it was here.

  Deciding this called for a special treat, he sat down behind his desk, unlocked the bottom drawer and pulled out an unopened bottle of 120-year-old scotch and an antique crystal tumbler. Carefully and ceremoniously, he broke the seal and poured a shot. Leaning back, he closed his eyes and sipped. As the fire spread through him, he smiled, savoring the moment.

  Then, after putting everything back away, he stuck a piece of gum in his mouth and went to his safe. He punched in a code, opened it and removed a hand-carved wooden box with a small dial on it. He spun it, entering the combination, then opened it and carefully removed a small black box with several LEDs and buttons on it.

  For a long moment, he stared at it, wondering if he should put it back and forget the whole thing. He decided that, no, too many lives had been lost to this particular cause, but at the same time, he half hoped that it would not work—it had been many years.

  Holding his breath, he very carefully turned on the power and an LED lit up. His finger shook a little as he pressed another button. After several seconds, one after another, three green LEDs lit up.

  He allowed himself to breathe again—it was in contact with all three devices.

  Carefully turning it off, he pocketed it, then pulled his .45 revolver from his holster, flipped it open and examined the rounds in its cylinder, then closed it and re-holstered it. Then he grabbed a pair of binoculars and slipped them around his neck. Was he forgetting anything…damn, he’d almost forgotten the radio. He grabbed it and shoved it in his pocket.

  Focus or die, motherfucker, he admonished himself, then left his office and walked quickly back to his jeep.

  “Drive me out to Hill 307 and take me to the top,” he ordered his driver. He had had the same driver for three years…Johnny. Johnny had a wife and two kids. He had no feelings for Johnny or his family and the knowledge that he would soon have to kill him didn’t faze Whitehall a bit.

  ---

  As the Blackship approached Amular, on the planet’s surface, billions prayed in the shelters, ran in panic through the empty streets or sat in vehicles in the gridlocked highways leaving the cities and leading to the mountains.

  On the same course and deceleration curve that it had maintained for over 200 years, the huge ship finally slowed to a relative halt, ending its 200-year journey exactly where it had intended, in orbit around Amular. Such a thing was quite impressive. However, the accuracy of its course and deceleration curve over its 112-light-year trek was far more impressive than that.

  ---

  President Wicker stood hands on hips in front of the large central view screen watching. Five others were with him including General Burnwall and the scientist, Bradford Donnelly. Every mouth had dropped open in shock.

  Finally, Wicker spoke in a hushed voice, “You’re telling me that over 200 years ago, it set out to do this?”

  Donnelly answered, “Theoretically, it’s quite possible.”

  The Blackship had creeped to a stop, resting on the surface of the Larger Moon. What happened next confirmed it.

  Wicker noticed it first and leaned toward the screen. “What are its arms doing?”

  Then it became clear and Donnelly vocalized the incredible sight, “It’s wrapping its damn arms around the moon. Like it’s going to just grab the damn thing.”

  It was an unbelievable sight—the arms slowly bent back, wrapping around the moon, and then visibly tightened.

  Then from the sides of the sphere, midway between the bases of each of its impossibly long arms, giant black spikes shot out and down and plunged deeply into the cratered surface. As if in slow motion, rocks shot outward escaping the moons minimal gravity, and dust clouds radiated outward, obscuring the cratered surface until the entire surface was a smoot
h white blur.

  Gasps could be heard from around the room.

  Turning to Burnwall, Wicker pointed at the screen and shouted, “Get that goddamn thing off my moon!”

  ---

  Leewood had just gotten the report that the Larger Moon was being dragged out of orbit and toward Amular. It looked like the Blackship was just going to toss the Larger Moon into Amular. The fear throughout the underground fortress control complex could be felt.

  The dozen or so battleships that remained from the First and Second Battle Groups were still on their way—still out of range.

  Wicker did not want to use Battle Group Four yet and who could blame him; One, Two and Three had been lost in the first hour of battle.

  The star cannon was engaging the Blackship and had been for many months.

  Therefore, Leewood knew the order was coming and was ready when it did.

  His com unit buzzed, “Leewood here. Yes, sir.”

  Leewood gave the order, weapons free, fire at will.

  The four orbital fortresses hit the Blackship and the Larger Moon with everything they had.

  ---

  It was the first time that war was visible in the night skies of Amular. The Larger Moon was clearly visible. The Blackship, a large black dot on the silver sphere’s surface, was clearly visible. Even the Blackship’s thin arms were just visible. All of this was continuously saturated with tiny flickering explosions interspaced by larger expanding spheres of white from higher yielded atomics and grav weapons.

  Visible in Amular’s skies for years now were the four orbital fortresses. From each one flew thousands of small fireflies—the rocket engines of missiles—all racing toward the grossly transfigured Larger Moon. The beam weapons could not be seen but the raging spectacle of it all struck a deep terror in the millions watching from Amular. That it all was happening in total silence added an eerie, unsettling quality.