Moscow Machination

by Ian Maxwell

  The change in the gravitational field wrt the sun, led to a change in the alignment of the earth’s vertical axis.

  On the surface, the earthen populace felt a jolt. Despite its best efforts, USGS was unable to pin point the location of the sliding plates.

  Mueller and Otto furiously fed the pre-programmed coordinates – coordinates of the new North Pole and the new South Pole.

  The earth continued its tilting. At the appropriate moment, Muller hit lock on the vertical axis. The newly aligned earth looked different.

  The North American continent was at the North Pole.

  And Russia was in the Mediterranean.

  Kennedy Space Center, NASA

  “Sir we just lost contact with our Mars Rover, Saturn Sipper and Jupiter Junker…”

  National Security Agency (NSA)

  “Yo something’s wrong with our satellites…”

  “Whats up?”

  “I just lost contact with all of our satellites…”

  “All 116?”

  “Everything just went dark…”

  Chapter 43

  Earth, Milky Way

  The Minuteman to Moscow’s onboard computer was confused. One second it had been homing into the Kremlin Wall Necropolis and the next, it found itself halfway to Shanghai. It reprocessed the inputs from its accelerometer, gyroscopes and GPS systems. They all said the same thing – 02:16 to Shanghai. After fiddling with itself the Minuteman did what every good control system did… it panicked and blue screened itself.

  Eventually the Minuteman cooked up the courage and checked in with NORTHCOM at Colorado Springs… sadly, the only response it got was from a French base in Suriname – and like all French bases, the Suriname base suggested the Minuteman to un-arm, un-deploy and return to base.

  Just when the Minuteman was about to French-it-up, it received a soulful message from something… something calling itself the Albatross.

  After conversing with this Albatross, the Minuteman felt light… and relieved… a heavy weight had been lifted…

  With a new purpose in life, the Minuteman headed to Siberia.

  Krasnoyarsk, Siberia

  “Boom, bitches! 1 down” Pulikesi mooned the cameras, “I told you guys not to panic…”

  The Ukrainians burst in relief. But they didn’t moon though.

  Primakov tempered the mood with, “1 down, still over 11000 to go…”

  “Hey man, chill… we got this.”

  “Well, I just hope your thing… the Albatross can scale… most things go to shit when you scale…”

  Within the next 6 minutes, the Albatross had granted asylum to more than a 100 refugee missiles. The waiting list still had like 10,000+ ICBMs… all lost and roving the skies over Russia… but the Albatross seemed to have enough horses under its hood.

  NORTHCOM, Colorado Springs

  “Sir, we just lost track of the last Minuteman…”

  “And you are sure none of them landed or detonated?”

  “Don’t think they even had a chance to arm…”

  “I am calling POTUS.”

  Irkutsk Oblast, Siberia

  The first Minuteman, meant for the Kremlin reduced its speed to 200 Knots before banking sharply to the right. It then aligned itself with the coordinates supplied by a soothing satellite named Koba.

  3 minutes later, the Minuteman from Minot, North Dakota pierced the cold, salt free waters of Lake Baikal.

  Camp David

  “Hey, is it me or did it just get friggin chilly?” asked the President from the back of a golf cart.

  “Probably the Smoky Mountains Sir, or maybe it’s the… Atlantic breeze…,” replied his aide.

  “Really?”

  Just before the aide could answer, his phone buzzed, “Yes… what? ICBMs… Jesus! For real, real? Mr. POTUS, the D Sec wants to talk to you…”

  “Whaaat? Not now. This is my down time. Also stop saying POTUS to my face… whats with that uh?”

  “Uh… Sir… Mr. President, the D Sec says we have lost all of our ICBMs.”

  Earth, Milky Way

  The earth continued to twist and turn around its new axis. After doing the same thing for over 4 billion years this was a welcome relief. First it slowed down for a few seconds… which was obviously great… and when it revved again, north was west, east was middle, Almaty was equator, Kansas City was North Pole, Krasnoyarsk was Kinshasa…

  The best part had been the helter-skelter reaction of the satellites. Like a swarm of synchronous bees they had been bugging the shit out of Earth. And suddenly they had become headless hyenas.

  Military, industrial, weather, geo-synched snatches and spying bitches – all… all of them got bitch slapped by the Earth’s axis realignment or tilting. After trying real hard, most of them burnt up in the atmosphere. The smarter ones simply abandoned Earth for pretty boy Mars.

  All of them were destroyed… all of them… except for a few Russian satellites.

  Chapter 44

  Krasnoyarsk, Siberia

  “300 for Aral Sea?” asked Pulikesi.

  Primakov pulled up his briefing on the Aral Sea. It was a drying sea. Hardly any depth. “Nah, make it 100.”

  “100 to Aral Sea. Great.”

  Ilya outlined the next batch of incoming ICBMs, “100 German. 30 Dutch. 15 Polish and 350 Israeli.”

  “Put them into the Lena.”

  “Putting them into the Lena river…” replied Ilya.

  “Next up, 500 Frenchies. Say Volga?”

  Primakov disagreed. The Volga was a cherished river. Only a cherished enemy would suffice. “Only Americans in the Volga. Send the Frenchies to Amur.”

  “Amur – Frenchies. Got it.”

  “Yo Primakov, your plan is real cute, but there is one little problem…” began Pulikesi.

  “What the hell is that?”

  “Well, it’s cool that we caught the missiles aimed at Russia. But to have supremacy… you need all the nukes… even the ones with your allies, like say Ukraine… haha… too soon?”

  Rocket man Antipin and the President stared at Primakov. He simply returned the stare. Antipin became annoyed after the 5 sec, benefit of doubt wait period and slammed the carbon dated table, “Forget Ukraine. What about China? Fuck, they have like what… 700?”

  “Well they are sorta our allies…” shrugged Primakov, “we never thought about our friends.”

  “Fuck your enemies hard… fuck your friends harder… isn’t that like your KGB motto?”

  Primakov stoutly defended his former employer, “You know, technically I might not even be KGB… I graduated in the transition years between the KGB and the FSB, and all we did was talk about chicks…”

  Korlov looked on sheepishly as an overhead counter notified everyone that 400 British nukes had been assigned to the Ob River.

  Antipin was now concerned about other potential ICBM challengers. “There is also India with 100, Pakistan probably same, North Korea 2000…”

  The President interjected at the citing of Upper Korea. “I wouldn’t worry about North Korea. We can trust our boy...”

  “Madam with all due respect…”

  “Leave it Luzkhov. No more crazy talk about the Great Leader. In fact, I think the he is set to become our staunchest ally.”

  “Pyongyang silos totally silent. No missile launches,” confirmed Korlov.

  Antipin was unmoved, “But that still leaves us with China and the sub-continent.”

  President Petrova put her foot down, “Well, we will deal with the Chinese and Indians diplomatically… numerically they are chickenfeed.”

  The situation room was getting balmy. Whoa, it was already happening.

  Antipin had one more question. Stealing the bulk of the western armament had been easy enough, but now came the hard part. “Mueller, it’s great that the Americans and the rest of the world have been rendered toothless, but… but… how long can we hold this advantage? I mean they still have their factories, their uranium mines, their enri
ching facilities, their titanium capabilities… NASA… like whats the long-term endgame here?”

  Luzkhov added, “Plus the Americans could easily build their own Project Catie… which could counteract and re-rotate the earth back to the old alignment… or worse put us at the South Pole.

  Mueller and Otto scratched their beardless chins in mock amusement.

  “Well?”

  Otto finally put up his hand and said, “Well, how long did it take for the android to catch up to the great phone?”

  “Years… but still, not close enough,” said Mueller. The bloody Germans were doing a canned routine.

  “And how long did it take to get ‘close’?” asked Otto.

  “Say 6-7 years.”

  “Which in the world of advanced weaponry translates to…”

  “6 to 7 decades… 70 years…”

  The President seemed to buy it. Primakov wanted to take a dump. All the missile herding had been tiring. Korlov wanted some coffee but was afraid to jinx things.

  Yuspov the Attorney General, wanted to have his name mentioned somewhere. So he said what he could, “Back in the day, we had our first nuke just 6 months after the Americans.”

  “True but you gotta remember, back in the day, the Mac was thoroughly defeated by Windows.”

  “What the hell does that even mean?”

  “It means we learn from our mistakes. Despite ganging up, the great phone has maintained the edge – technically and economically. Trust me, no one is going to make another Project Catie for a long time. Plus this isn’t like the nuke which was built in 2 years with 0.05% of GDP. This… this Project Catie was built over 70 years with like 50% of Russo-Soviet GDP.”

  The situation room nodded doubtfully.

  Chapter 45

  Dalian, China

  “Comrade Secretary, the US 7th fleet just fired over a 100 missiles – ICBMs. They are all headed north.”

  “Well… fire our missiles at Taiwan, Japan, Seoul and Vancouver.”

  “Did you say Vancouver…?”

  “Yeah, the fucking Canadians rejected my uncle’s investor visa... he paid a million freaking dollars. Can you believe this bull shit?”

  “Oh…”

  “Yeah, let’s burn them.”

  Delhi, India

  “It seems like there is a war, Mr. Defense Minister. Everybody is firing on everybody.”

  “Has Pakistan fired?”

  “Well Sir, our intel suggests that they have only one missile in flying condition. They are also short on missile fuel. So at the current state it can only make it as far as Lahore.”

  The Indian Defense Minister howled with laughter, “It can’t even cross the border. Hahaha…. Classic Pakistan.”

  “Sir… Sir… this is kinda serious.”

  “Haha… well… to tell you the truth, we also have only one.”

  “Whaaat…? But… but… Jane’s Period says we have a 100.”

  “Well, Jane and her gal pals also said that Pakistan has 110. All bull shit. Straight from the bull’s anus.”

  “Oh… ok so should we send it… our one missile?”

  “Young man, you see… once you send a missile… it’s never coming back… that’s it… gone… forever…”

  “I don’t know Mr. Minister, but the entire world is sending theirs somewhere. If we don’t, we will look weak.”

  The Defense Minister was growing tired of this chit chat about missiles. The Indian cricket team was out touring Jamaica, where there was a 12hr time difference. He needed to be fresh for the late night viewing.

  “Ok enough of this crap… we are not wasting our missile on some enemy that’s not Pakistan… now get lost… wait get me some tea first…”

  Kremlin, Moscow

  “Hahaha… China just emptied their arsenal. Taiwan, South Korea and inexplicably 10 to Vancouver,” roared Korlov. Primakov was relived.

  “The Albatross already has them. We are golden…” said Pulikesi.

  “So where do you want to allocate them. We are pretty full everywhere,” informed Ilya, “unless you want them in the Volga.”

  Primakov turned to the President and said, “Madam I think these Ukrainians and their janitor friend should all get a medal or something… for services to Russia.”

  Pulikesi had other plans, “Nope. No shitty medals. I want a dacha… outskirts of Moscow…”

  “Me, I am fine with St. Petersburg” said Ilya.

  “No one is getting a dacha…”

  “Bet you gave Snowden a badass dacha… with a covered pool and SUVs… and… ” prodded Pulikesi.

  “Snowden lives in a dilapidated khrushchyovka in Ulyanovsk. He drives an 80s Lada… and his day job is at a sausage factory.”

  The President raised her hand for order, “Sure, whatever. When this is over, we will see.” She had real Presidential stuff to do. She had a speech to write… one declaring world domination by Russia.

  “Well thanks Madam President. But we still need a place to put the incoming Chinese,” said Ilya.

  “Not Volga. Remember Volga only for Americans. So… let’s see… ok send them to Lake Issyk Kul in Kyrgyzstan,” said Primakov.

  “Is it deep?”

  “It’s very deep.”

  Pulikesi, had a follow up question.

  “So dude, is it safe to like dump so many nukes into your fresh water reserves…?”

  Primakov smiled and said, “My simple friend, you can nuke a nuke… and nothing will happen to it. They are made of titanium. Solid.”

  Antipin agreed, “They say diamonds are forever… I say nukes are forever.”

  Someone added, “Also tight buttholes…”

  “Uh oh…” said Pulikesi.

  “Whats wrong?” asked Primakov who was about to sip his Tall Americano.

  “Irish missiles… 3 Minutemans… Coming in fast to Moscow…”

  “Reroute it… let the Albatross handle it.”

  “Well we did some trial runs at Vnukovo Airport and they have a beta version of Albatross. For some reason that beta version is overriding our version of Albatross.”

  “Oh dear… a beta version… were there any bugs?” asked Yuspov the Attorney General. The recent update on his candy crushing game had serious performance issues.

  “No bugs… but it had this one extra feature…”

  Vnukovo Airport, Moscow

  “This is Vnukovo ATC… I repeat reduce speed to 100 Knots…” The ATC crew at Vnukovo couldn’t understand. First the Russian government had shut down their airport and now they were sending in fighter jets. But for some reason the jets just couldn’t be identified. They were as big as a wide body, yet moved like a Mig.

  “This is Vnukovo ATC… pilots identify yourself…”

  The 3 Irish missiles had joined the war at the last moment. Some quality control creep had insisted on repainting the tail as it ‘wasn’t the right kind of green’.

  Kremlin, Moscow

  “Oh man this is going to get ugly,” said Ilya, “You guys should take the President to some bunker.”

  “How far is Vnukovo from the Kremlin?” asked Pulikesi.

  “Not too far,” said Primakov. “Madam perhaps we should…”

  “So what was the extra feature?”

  Vnukovo Airport, Moscow

  Following orders from the Vnukovo version of the Albatross, the three Irish missiles headed to Vnukovo in the south western extremities of Moscow.

  The first Minuteman with its green fins gradually descended, 40ft… 30ft… 20ft.

  At 10ft above the ground, the missile lowered its rear and performed the first ever ICBM ‘touch down-landing’ in history. It was a hell of a leap.

  20 seconds later the missile parked itself at Vnukovo’s Gate 13. The second and third missiles went to the unoccupied gates – 18 and 29.

  Other than the slightly charred tarmac, Vnukovo seemed operational.

  Chapter 46

  Krasnoyarsk, Modern day Siberia

  It was a warm
humid January day in Siberia. President Anna Petrova and Primakov were up in a Mi-8 chopper exploring the new flora and fauna of Siberia.

  “Bears. To the right Madam, on the banks of the Yenisei.”

  A bunch of polar bears and grizzlies were out sunbathing and sharing a dolphin.

  “Perhaps it’s their Thanksgiving.”

  This was the new Siberia. A Mediterranean paradise where everyone had fun. A place where new alliances were made every day. Plus every day was balmy. Moscow was Madrid, St. Pete was Barca and New York… lolz was the Novo Novosibirsk.

  As the chopper rose again, something on the horizon caught the President eye. A large circle of SUVs and a bunch of people were cheering something. In the middle of the circle, something large and violet was twisting and turning. The President wanted to get a better look.

  “Do you see that?” she asked Primakov, who immediately extracted his binoculars and checked it out. The large spindly violet octopus-like creature was fighting something. Its opponent was equally weird, almost like a ball of barbed wire.

  “Oh yeah, it’s the Ebola vs Anthrax fight,” exclaimed Primakov. “Those are super fun.”

  “Ebola as in the virus?”

  “Yes Madam. When we, you know… tilted the earth a lot of things changed. Like all bears are now friends. There is no discrimination among pandas and grizzlies and polars. As we saw earlier…”

  The stunned President couldn’t take her eyes off the mangled … viruses … virii… things. “But how did this happen… aren’t they dangerous?”