METEOR STORM

by David Capps

The judge looked back at Kravitz.

  “Sidebar, your honor?”

  The judge waved them up. After a few minutes of animated discussion, the attorneys returned to their tables.

  “Mr. Kravitz, any further evidence?”

  I had to smile. The fact that the recording attributed to a Confidential Informant had been dropped meant that the FBI was running an illegal wiretap on John’s phone. This was getting better by the minute.

  “Your honor, we believe that the DNA profile on record for the terrorist Carl Palminteri may have been altered, which is why we cannot get a DNA match to one of the defendants.”

  “You believe?” the judge replied. “May have been altered? What evidence do you have that this DNA profile has been changed?”

  “We’re still examining the files, your honor.”

  “I see,” the judge replied. “You really leave me no other choice, Mr. Kravitz. Miranda rights are sacrosanct. I cannot, and will not, allow the violation of a person’s Miranda rights. The defendants have an absolute right to remain silent and if they choose to do so, this court will not abrogate those rights. Motion for a court order requiring the defendants to submit to a voice print analysis is denied. Mr. Kravitz, you are hereby ordered to release the defendants immediately. Mr. Harrington, I see one of your clients is in a wheel chair. Is there something I should know in this regard?”

  “Yes, your honor,” Charles replied. “My client was struck in the back of the neck with a rifle butt while handcuffed and in federal custody. My client was not resisting arrest and was not otherwise being disruptive. He was struck without provocation and has suffered a serious injury to his spinal column as a direct result of this attack by an out of control federal agent. Despite the obvious nature of my client’s injury, he was denied medical treatment for over seven hours while in federal custody.”

  “Mr. Kravitz?” the judge said.

  “Your honor, I have no knowledge of any of these accusations.”

  “Of course not,” the judge replied. “Mr. Harrington, I presume you will be following this up?”

  “Yes, your honor,” Charles replied, “we are preparing both a criminal complaint against the federal agent involved and a civil suit for damages and violation of rights.”

  “Very well, then,” the judge said. “We are adjourned.”

  The bailiff came over and removed the handcuffs from us. We immediately went over to John. “Right now I have two fractured vertebrae in my upper neck,” John said. “I have no feeling or control from the neck down.”

  “Oh my God,” Tia said. “Is this permanent?”

  “We don’t know,” John said. “There is a lot of swelling that is putting pressure on the nerves. We won’t know anything for sure until the swelling goes down.”

  “What can we do to help?” I asked.

  “The FBI is unlikely to return our computers any time soon,” John said. “I’m placing Carl and Tia in charge of the media center. Replace all of the computers and servers; get all of the programs downloaded from our offsite secure storage and get the website back up and running; same for the communications room. I have accounts with all of our suppliers, so money shouldn’t be a problem. If you need anything else, get with Charles.”

  “We’re on it,” I said. “What else can we do?”

  “Can the feds reverse engineer your firewall?” John asked.

  “They can dissemble the machine code, which will give them the assembly language equivalent, but it’ll take them months to recreate the source code.”

  “Okay,” John said. “Once the website is back up, add the second firewall, update the Trojans and reverse trackers. They’re coming after us – let’s see that they’re properly entertained.”

  “You got it,” I replied.

  “Meanwhile,” John said, “I’ll be spending some time in a private clinic, starting this evening. Charles will keep you updated on my progress.”

  * * *

  The servers were the last pieces of equipment to arrive. We paid extra to have them assembled and air freighted to Denver. The computer techs were busy running cables and downloading everything from John’s offsite secure backup storage. Once the website was back online, Tia and I returned to the cabin and started work on the second firewall. The computer techs would now have to use two usernames and two passwords, since the two firewalls operated independently of one another. Keeping the usernames and passwords different between the two firewalls made the system more secure.

  We were just about finished with the second firewall when Ed came running into the communications room.

  “John’s back!”

  We bolted from our chairs and ran upstairs. A nurse in flower-print scrubs was helping John in the front door. She was short and cute with close-cropped black hair. John was still wearing the neck brace, but he was standing and walking slowly into the great room.

  “John, this is a miracle!” Tia said.

  John smiled, “Miracles come in all sorts of ways. What you see is the result of unconventional medical treatment.”

  “What do you mean, unconventional?” Tia asked.

  “Most damage to the spinal column is caused by the lack of oxygen, a natural result of inflammation. I just spent the last two days in a hyperbaric oxygen chamber with high dose vitamin C IVs. The swelling disappeared within six hours due to the vitamin C, and the hyperbaric oxygen brought the damaged tissue back to life.”

  “So you’re going to be okay?” Tia asked.

  “Yeah,” John said, “I’ll be fine. I’m just a bit wobbly right now, and I need to rest.”

  “And the nurse?” Tia asked.

  “This is Nancy,” John said “She’ll be staying with us from this point on. She’ll be part of our medical team, once we move into the cave. I’ll also be continuing the Vitamin C IVs for a while.”

  “And your neck?” Tia asked.

  “Healing,” John said. “The vitamin C is accelerating the process.”

  “I didn’t know anything could do that,” Tia said.

  John smiled. “Conventional medicine is only about fifty years behind the curve. Fortunately, there are some innovative physicians around who have the courage to go beyond what they learned in medical school.” John looked over at me. “How’s the new firewall coming?”

  “Almost done,” I said. “We’ll be installing it late this afternoon.”

  “Excellent,” John said, “I need to rest now, so if you don’t mind…”

  We watched as Nancy helped him across the great room and into his personal section of the cabin. Tia and I headed back down into the communications room to finish the second firewall for the website.

  Later that afternoon we rode down to Denver and installed the second firewall in the media center. The computer techs didn’t seem to mind having to login twice, considering the added security the system provided.

  * * *

  John, Ed, Tia and I were having breakfast when Alex, John’s communications officer, came up from the communications room.

  “There’s something showing up in the news you need to see,” Alex said.

  We followed him down and looked at the television screen. Police in black outfits were holding an older couple in their front yard as a large front-end loader drove over the chain-link fence and into their back yard. The camera image jiggled as the cameraman followed the piece of heavy equipment around the side of the house. In the back yard was a bunker, constructed right out of John’s Bunker Builder’s Book. The front-end loader began digging the dirt away from the concrete arch. A young reporter appeared on the screen with the front-end loader behind her.

  “As you can see, the City of St. Louis has sent this piece of heavy equipment into the Jacobson’s back yard to remove the bunker that the city claims has been built without the proper building permit. The Jacobson’s claim that they did apply for the building permit, but the city refused to issue any permits for bunkers because there was no scientific proof that any meteor storm was c
oming. The city has had hundreds of complaints from people claiming that their neighbors are building illegal bunkers in their back yards. The city claims that these bunkers violate the building codes and are a nuisance. Last night the St. Louis City Council vowed to remove all illegal bunkers from the city. This is the first of more than a hundred bunkers to be removed throughout the city.”

  The beeping from the front-end loader as it backed up drowned out the reporter’s voice. She looked annoyed and waited until the beeping stopped.

  John opened his cell phone and called his lawyer. “Charles, are you watching Network News?” John said. “Yeah, St. Louis. Can you find a lawyer in St. Louis that will work with you to stop the destruction of these bunkers? People’s lives are at stake.”

  John listened for a moment. “Yes, I agree, class action seeking an emergency writ and Temporary Restraining Order. Move on that right away and keep me posted on your progress. Thank you, Charles.” He closed his cell phone. “Arrogant bureaucrats,” John muttered.

  CHAPTER 19

  Major Samuels arrived at John’s cabin. John brought him down into the communications room.

  “Hey, look who’s here,” Ed called out.

  “The Major has an update for us,” John said.

  “Things are happening rapidly,” the Major said. “The military has put together a plan to limit the damage to the planet from the meteor storm. The plan is on the President’s desk right now. All it needs is his approval.”

  “Does it involve any countries besides our own?” I asked.

  “It does,” Major Samuels replied. “The idea is to use our nuclear weapons to blast a path through the meteor cloud big enough for the planet to pass through.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Ed said. “A path the size of the planet? Have you seen NASA’s map of the meteor cloud?”

  “No, I haven’t,” Major Samuels replied, “but the plan comes from people who have.”

  “Do they know it will take two months to pass through the meteor cloud?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Major Samuels said, “they know.”

  “And?” I asked.

  “And they know we can’t stop all of the meteors. Many of them will hit the planet anyway. But, the plan is to use the shockwave from the blast to move the larger meteors out of the way. If we can limit the meteors to the smaller ones we can save our infrastructure. Our civilization will survive.”

  “How many warheads will this plan take?” I asked.

  “All of them,” Major Samuels replied. “All of our land-based missiles, all of our submarine fleet’s missiles and all of Russia’s, China’s and all of our allies’ missiles. Every missile on the planet will be required.”

  “And they think everyone will go along with that plan?” I asked.

  “It’s either that or we all die. Civilization as we know it will end. What remains of the population will be back in the stone age.”

  We all sat in silence for a minute.

  “So this is it?” Tia said. “Mankind rises to the challenge and finally comes together or we start over?”

  “That’s the basic idea,” Major Samuels replied. “Yeah, we work together or we all die.”

  “How come this plan doesn’t leave me with a warm fuzzy feeling?” Tia asked.

  Major Samuels shrugged. “It’s the only choice they have.”

  “Well,” I interjected, “that’s one way of disarming the world of the threat of nuclear weapons.”

  “They’ll make more of them,” Ed replied. “Just because something is insane hasn’t stopped people from doing it.”

  “So what does this do for our warnings and our plans?” I asked.

  “It doesn’t change anything for us,” John said. “First of all, the plan is still classified, and secondly, the government hasn’t shown any signs of admitting that the meteor storm poses any kind of danger to the planet. Even if the plan works, there will still be meteors, we will still warn people, and we will still prepare to rebuild our civilization. Frankly, getting everyone on board with a plan that involves every nuclear power and every warhead on the planet is not going to be well received. If the plan had overwhelming public support, then maybe the governments would cooperate. But as long as the public is being kept in the dark, I don’t see any hope for the plan at all.”

  “How can we get the public behind the plan?” Tia asked.

  “Two things,” John said. “We increase the pressure on the media to acknowledge the reality of the meteor storm, and we leak the military’s plan to the public. That’ll put more pressure on the government to disclose the true nature of the meteor storm.”

  “I have the broad strokes of the plan with me, but not all of the details,” Major Samuels said.

  “Carl, Tia, can you work with the Major and get this plan on the website?” John asked.

  “On it,” I said as we headed for a computer console.

  * * *

  As the meteor storm countdown reached ten days, the first reports of visual sightings of the meteor cloud surfaced on the Internet. The cloud wasn’t visible by itself, but it did block out a small portion of the stars in the early morning sky. Ed, Major Samuels, Tia and I got up at three in the morning and walked out to an outcropping of rock not far from the cabin. We had a clear view of the eastern skyline. Normally, rising stars would appear at the horizon and move up into the sky. Now the horizon was dark and no stars could be seen near the horizon at all. The black area extended up only about five degrees which left the viewer unsure of exactly what was going on.

  Controversy over what was causing the black area on the eastern skyline raged on Twitter and other Blogs. Even the existence of the black area was contested by a number of people. The following morning the black area had expanded noticeably. By the time the meteor storm countdown reached eight days, the people claiming that the black area didn’t exist stopped posting comments. The shift in mood across the country was palpable.

  That morning Network News began advertising that “NASA Speaks Out” was to be broadcast that evening. After an early dinner we gathered in the communications room to watch the show.

  “With me tonight is Dr. Sheldon Woolser, NASA’s expert on what is happening,” the host began.

  “Thank you, it’s a pleasure to be back with you this evening,” Woolser said.

  “Many people are worried about the reported black section of the early morning sky. What can you tell us about it?” the host asked.

  “The meteor cloud people are seeing is very large, by earthly standards,” Woolser said. “But that doesn’t mean the meteors themselves are that large. In fact, as I stated before, most meteors are as small as grains of sand. There is a lot of sand in this meteor cloud which is what is obscuring the light from the distant stars in the morning sky.”

  “Are all of the meteors the size of grains of sand?” the host asked.

  “Well, we have detected a few meteors that are somewhat larger than grains of sand in the meteor cloud,” Woolser said. “Some of these do pose a minor hazard to us on the ground.”

  “Is there a plan to deal with these larger meteors?” the host asked.

  “Yes, there is,” Woolser replied. “Our great military has presented a plan to the President to use nuclear weapons to disburse the larger meteors from the path of the Earth. All that should remain are the grain of sand meteors. They will put on the greatest night-time show in our recorded history. I, for one, am looking forward to watching the display these meteors put on in the night sky. It should be quite spectacular.”

  “And is there any real danger to the people or the Earth from these grain of sand meteors?” the host asked.

  “No, there is not,” Woolser replied. “The administration has asked local police departments and fire departments to be on stand-by, just in case anything actually makes it down to the ground level, which we don’t anticipate, but it is always better to be prepared, isn’t it?”

  “Of course it is,” the host replied.


  John muted the TV. “That was well scripted.”

  “Yeah,” Major Samuels replied. “Right out of the Psy-Ops handbook.”

  “Psy-Ops?” Tia asked.

  “Psychological Operations,” Ed answered. “It’s part of the military strategy for controlling a target population.”

  “Are we the target population?” Tia asked.

  “Yes, we certainly are,” Major Samuels replied. “You want to keep the sheep as calm as possible before they discover they’re at the slaughterhouse.”

  “That seems like a very gruesome analogy if you ask me,” Tia said.

  “That’s how it works,” Ed stated. “They don’t want a panicked public interfering with their plans to move the VIP’s into the protected caves.”

  “Or themselves, for that matter,” Major Samuels replied. “By the time the general public figures out what’s going on, all of the important people will be in lock-down in the underground caves.”

  “So what about the plan to use nuclear weapons to clear the meteor cloud?” Tia asked.

  “First of all,” John said, “there’s no public support for the nuclear plan, and second, it requires the cooperation of every nuclear power on the planet. That has never happened before.”

  “But we’re facing a natural disaster that dwarfs all of our differences. Doesn’t that mean anything?” Tia asked.

  “I would hope so,” I replied, “I would like to think we as people of the planet can come together in this kind of an emergency and overcome our differences.”

  “I would too,” John said, “but it’s not up to the ordinary people; it’s in the hands of politicians. That’s why we have the Survivalist Network. That’s in the hands of ordinary people – people who actually care about one another. That’s what I put my faith in.”

  “Okay,” Ed said, “how long before the meteor storm hits do the missiles have to be launched?”

  I ran some quick calculations through my mind. “Something in the range of forty-eight hours, give or take.”

  “So we will know if they actually use the missiles or not,” Ed replied, “with some time left over.”