Broken Mirror: Apophis 2029

by Michel Savage

  "I was just looking over the project results of the past several years when you dropped by," the old woman answered, "apparently, when the Failsafe was initiated the assistant mobile automations had been assigned alternate programming to act as sentries," she read from the emergency status displayed on the board before us, "anyone who wasn't authorized with embedded clearance would be considered a trespasser, and..." she trailed off as Tasha finished for her.

  "...Anyone trespassing on a military facility would be subject to the use of deadly force," the young girl noted. Tasha had seen how touchy defense personnel could be when she was growing up. Many times, they tended to overreact with too much testosterone, whenever push came to shove.

  "Wait a moment. So you had us walk in here knowing we would become targets?" I had to inquire, bewildered by what Betty had just admitted to.

  "This facility has many levels of automation, and for one, Caitlin, I had no clue that the system Failsafe had been triggered," the old woman stomped back in response to my damning accusation.

  "Well, you could have taken a wild guess!" Thorn spat back, waving his hands around the place, noting the containment lockdown and the hordes of weepers roaming the massive facility. He did have a point.

  "Thank you for the attitude," she replied with a rancid tone towards Thorn, "but I had no idea the lab automations could be programmed in that manner; hell, I wasn't even sure my own clearance would still work on the upper level after all this time," Beatrice admitted.

  It took some convincing, but Tasha upheld the old woman's excuse, and that it wasn't exactly uncommon for upper Military Admin to enact hidden protocols whenever shit hits the fan. It took some digging, but Beatrice was able to bring up the files on the VEIL project and what had happened here at the facility after the impact event. Tasha was attentive to this information; secretly hoping that her father hadn't become one of the infected wandering the base. If she ever found him in that condition, she knew what he would want her to do.

  International governments and the military complex had been preparing for such an event well before June of 2004, back when asteroid MN4 had first been discovered. Within the files, we found an inventory log recording the several thousand asteroid flybys over the past century alone that had the same prospect to cause a similar catastrophe. Apophis itself, was only about as broad as a twelve story building, but that was big enough to punch a hole through Earth's atmosphere and devastate a small country if it hit land and could cause wide spread tsunamis if it made contact with the ocean. Nobody would have guessed it would do exactly that by breaking up and striking two separate sites by both land and sea.

  A collision with Earth had been theoretically possible, but the narrow odds were disturbing enough. Scientists on the MN4 project calculated the asteroid's trajectory would bend during the flyby encounter in early 2029, but as a result of Earth's gravitational pull. Their ability to see where Asteroid itself would go after extrapolating its orbit was fogged by the lack of credible data. Astronomers noted that it would be premature to predict if Apophis would cross into our orbital path again after it swung around the sun for another encounter exactly seven years later to the day in 2036.

  The only way they could be sure was by calculating the data during its near-earth pass and on its return loop back into tracking range. As anyone could imagine, that simply wasn't good enough for the heads up high. They demanded results for an alternate resolution to the problem whether it really existed or not; and prompted an assurance that MN4 would never become a viable threat to the planet; which seemed like a humanitarian endeavor on the surface, but it was solely motivated by their desire to retain power over the population.

  Most nations had been locked in resource wars at the time of the event, and tensions ran high among the public and politicians. There could be notable benefits appearing to act like a Savior in the eyes of the world forum and social media, and it would be a tremendous financial and strategic advantage to use the alleged menace of Apophis for propaganda and leverage towards their own ends. Upon that premise, the VEIL project was formed as a semi-secret black budget program, and was sold to the public and rival nations as their only salvation.

  The classified files we read within revealed the roots and true purpose of this enormous facility we now stood in. To reduce the range of the asteroids trajectory into Earth's orbital path, it was proposed that they could help nudge the floating rock out of the danger zone. The sooner they gave the asteroid a gentle push, the farther it would veer from its given course.

  Beatrice brought up a visual model covering the details of the project hardware. Up on the central screen displayed the specs for a space probe. It was a very advanced and expensive spacecraft which was designed to shoot out to the approaching asteroid and land on it to deploy a wide reflecting screen. This device would deflect solar radiation in small enough amounts to gradually change its trajectory and push it off its projected path towards our planet. The sooner it was deployed the wider the range of safety to distance the celestial object from ever intersecting Earth's orbital plane.

  All of us except Betty were baffled and amazed by this revelation. All these years of preparation for this event had been kept under wraps from the eyes and ears of the civilian population. It did not make much sense to hide such an important venture, one that seemed like it would have gotten overwhelming public support; yet, it was entirely censored.

  "So, unbeknownst to the public, they sent up a rocket to shove the asteroid in another direction. For what logical purpose would they keep that a secret?" Kel inquired of the old woman, who seemed to be just as interested in the information.

  "Obviously, something went terribly wrong," she answered, "and the less people who knew about the program, then they would have no one to point their finger to or use as a scapegoat to blame."

  Betty made a valid point. It was another evasion of liability game our government entities chose to play; one which had been groomed by decades of poor judgment and leadership. Had project VEIL actually been a success, they would have promptly stepped out into the spotlight to take all the credit for saving the world. Instead, somebody fumbled the ball. I was disgusted by the thought of it, but it was still a viable answer. However, what we discovered buried beneath all the data, deep within that file log did not sit well with either of us. The VEIL program was merely a sub-project for its secret sister program; a military space station.

  Now all the pegs started to fall in place. The military and government elites had a backup plan, and needed a convenient excuse for the amount of funds and hardware that were being consumed on such a secretive and colossal enterprise. Over-budget costs and emergency funds were all too common on such venues. Tasha had a point to make after viewing the files, a question that would linger on our conscience.

  "So, what was the purpose of keeping this facility operational after the failure of the probe?" she asked Beatrice who was busy ogling the screen. We did not like the answer. She brought up the computer audio to dictate what had happened here at the Lab site since her evacuation to Fallhaven along with Kane those many years ago.

  "The Veil Probe was launched eight months prior to its estimated intercept date. Echoes from the planetary radar telescope revealed the asteroid's precise distance and velocity for rendezvous with the potentially hazardous asteroid 99942 known as Apophis," the monotone computer voice dictated, "the probe landed and successfully deployed its reflective panels, however, the subsequent results of radar observations revealed that the predicted solar radiation that was calculated to help reduce the risk of interception with our orbit; instead aggravated the trajectory by increasing the rotation of the solar object."

  We looked at one another with distain, realizing that the massive amount of resources and costs that had been incurred to prevent the chance this disaster, had instead guaranteed it. The computer files continued to display the outlandish failure on the screen before us in vivid, heart wrenching detail.

  "Unforeseen by previ
ous data forecasts, the resulting intervention of the probe amplified the target solar object's dynamics and trajectory to a point that elevated the predicted impact," the computer affirmed, "upon entering our orbital plane, MN4 was subject to Earth's gravitational pull. As impact was now immanent, the Project chief and assigned Commanders initiated a surrogate backup plan by detonating the thermonuclear payload within the Veil probe as a last resort, attempting to disintegrate the target. This attempt failed to pulverize the object as expected, and created two main shrapnel bodies that retained their critical mass upon entering the stratosphere."

  A new screen opened up as the other faded, this one showing the celestial event from a view in space; recorded by satellite footage with superimposed graphics of its repercussions across the globe. Apophis had split into two projectiles shortly before punching sizable holes in the atmosphere. This resulted in a pair of electro magnetic pulses that encompassed almost the entirety of the planet; sending us back to the Dark Ages.

  Several military complexes had equipment and vehicles that had been specifically constructed with protective shielding for such an event, but not ones of the magnitudes we encountered. The civilian population was not prepared in any form for the catastrophic impact of a peak EMP wave. Many populated areas were subject to a double effect that devastated most regions as all electronic components were demolished and the power grid severed. Our modern world had become far too reliant on such vulnerable technology.

  As it turned out, the computer data revealed that this was actually a similar risk we had faced daily from our closest star, the Sun. In the form of Coronal Mass Ejections errant solar storms have occasionally razed the planet for billions of years throughout Earth’s history. The difference being that we have built a civilization reliant on such a frail infrastructure. Everything from power plants to global communications suddenly stopped working, and we all ran around like chickens with our heads cut off, looking like fools.

  At zero hour, there had been massive blackouts where people took to the streets, which had quickly escalated into wide spread looting and food riots. There was no radio or working navigation as commercial airliners fell from the sky. Ships at sea became lost, as the EMP burst had not merely been aimed downward towards the planets surface, but had also fried every satellite and positioning systems in close orbit. Any effort at celestial navigation soon became futile as the atmosphere quickly clouded over in the days that followed, with the dust and debris from the land impact of the first fragment of Apophis. It was an effect akin to a nuclear winter that endured for years to follow. Raging electrical storms soon followed in its wake as global weather patterns were disrupted on an epic scale across the entire hemisphere.

  Like I said, the shit hit the fan, to put it mildly; and life these past few years had been a real challenge for everyone on the planet. With no power and backup systems that failed, hospital patients on any kind of life support quickly expired. Nine billion people fought for food and shelter in the failing climate, making life beyond unpleasant at every degree ...then came the MN4 plague.

  The towering amount of data displayed on the screen was almost too much to ingest. The classified sister program of the cover VEIL program, was the MIRAGE; tag named as a mirror site for the protective shelters. Mirage was the secret space station solely designated for the top Elite of the elite. It was a designated command post to oversee the entire project and guarantee the continuity of government. This information made us wonder what the hell they have been doing up there in orbit all this time while the world went to hell down here?

  "That's interesting..." Beatrice noted to us as we all stood gawking at the screen, trying to absorb the information thrown at us. It was difficult enough to swallow how our space program had fucked up so badly and directly caused the asteroid to hit us; but that some self appointed arrogant assholes had saved their own sorry butts by jetting off to safety in orbit while we all rotted away down here.

  "What is it?" I inquired to Betty's unfinished remark, as we watched while she tapped inquires on the control board.

  "There seems to be no communication from the space station. All transmissions have gone dark," she noted.

  "It's possible they could have ran out of food and air up there after nearly a decade," Tasha mentioned, "serves them right!"

  It would be an ironic turn of events if that was the actual fact. The EMP that sent us back to cooking by campfire and the global storms that darkened the skies, were petty hardships compared to the viral outbreak that swept the planet and wiped out almost an entire species. We had enough grief in our lives; just to learn that we did it to ourselves was icing on the cake with a cherry on top. Fuck, we were stupid.

  "I can guarantee you that was not the case..." a strange voice came over the intercom in the room. Even Beatrice turned and appeared surprised by the interruption. We had assumed the base had been long abandoned and overrun; but apparently, there was someone else still here.

  "Who are you?" Thorn tried to demand to the hidden speakers in the room, yet feeling at the disadvantage. We knew cameras could be imbedded within the screens displays; it was just unnerving knowing we were being watched all this time.

  "I am your host, and it has been some time since I have had guests," the man’s voice offered, "my sincere apologies for the recent deaths in your group, but the automations are, well... automated," he smirked with distasteful humor.

  "What is it that you want?" Tasha demanded, as she gripped her gun tightly. She wasn't keen to being put on the defense by an unseen foe.

  "It's not what I want young lady," he answering abruptly, "but what I can provide."

  We looked at one another with a hint of apprehension, not knowing what we should do next. Thorn tapped Beatrice on the shoulder with his gun, motioning her to get up from the console, not knowing if she was somehow a party to this new contact.

  "Who is that?" he whispered to her threateningly, trying not to be overheard. Respectfully, they were still standing in front of the screens that picked up every word he said.

  "You may call me Cypher. I invite you to let us get better acquainted and will offer to provide you with answers to many of your questions," Cypher granted, "I have provided security access to the top floor. If you would, please bring your other two companions from the 3rd floor breakroom," he instructed. With that said, the door to the secured room opened as a prompt for us to depart.

  Clearly, he had some measure of control over the security systems and access. With the recent deaths of our companions weighing on us, we wondered if this 'Cypher' could be trusted at any length. We did not want to walk into another ambush, but we were here for a reason; and he was offering answers.

  It was an odd feeling walking down that corridor back to the break room. We were still in a daze as we disclosed what we had just learned to Serena. The young boy had calmed down to a reasonable level, having cried himself to sleep over Haiti's death. The seven of us assembled and shuffled over to the elevator, still wary of any robotic threats that still lurked within the halls.

  The elevator ride was far longer than we expected for only going up a single floor. Finally, the door chimed as the female voice uttered "Green Level," over the speaker while the doors slid open and we stepped outside. The room was stark white with a jumble of makeshift panels that had been scavenged elsewhere and reassembled within this chamber. With uncomfortable tension, the elevator door slammed closed behind us after we stepped out. When she tried to open it again, the control was unresponsive to Betty's touch.

  The metal panels were attached to a gear that swung them up to reveal a wide glass wall; beyond it stood our host.

  He was oddly dressed in a mix of a modern lab coat which had been retailored to resemble something from the renaissance age. An entire top floor of the building had been cleared and repurposed as a living space. Makeshift curtains had been assembled to decorate the windows in an ornamental way. Bits of plastic and data disks had been patch worked into the windowpane
s to faintly resemble stained glass trim.

  Scraps of lab equipment had been remade into the visage of candelabras, each adorned with bright lights to simulate flickering candle flames. Similar to their construction was an enormous digital fireplace that overwhelmed the rear wall with its lavish decorum. Our impression was that our host had gone a little off kilter trapped up here all alone after all these years in his solitude. Our initial presumption was pretty close to point.

  "Welcome," Cypher gestured with a faint smile. He was not terribly tall, clean-shaven and slightly gaunt. The strange fellow certainly had an odd look to him that befit a recluse. He carried himself well as he casually strolled over to lean on a desk chair that had been altered to give it the illusion of a high back. It was all strangely pseudo 18th century, including his eccentric gait.

  We were baffled by his initial presentation, but kept a tight hold of our firearms, not knowing what his game was. As we twitched uneasily with our weapons, several robotic arms unfolded from the sides of the room in response. We turned in defense as their metal clamps extended towards us.

  "What's this all about?" Thorn demanded as we raised our guns to fire. The metal arms kept at a distance for a moment as their multiple appendages spun and whirred.

  "There will be no need for those," Cypher gestured for us to lower our weapons while he glinted a shameless grin, "I can assure you the glass is quite indestructible."

  "You don't look familiar," Betty noted aloud, trying to recall if she had ever met him in the years before the cataclysm. Cypher just shook his head.

  "No, I wouldn't," he shook his head at the old woman's comment, "I was assigned here after you left, Beatrice," Cypher noted to her directly. She was surprised that he knew her named, "Your staff file was flagged the moment you entered the main facility. I've been keeping tabs on you and what you have been researching, dear."