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Outside Context Problem: Book 02 - Under Foot

Page 39

by Christopher Nuttall


  And then there were the ones who thought the whole invasion was the righteous punishment of Allah. Kalid privately wondered if they had a point. His mother had been fond of telling him that the oil that had been found in Saudi Arabia was not Allah’s gift, but his punishment. She’d had a long theory as to why that was the case and Kalid didn’t really disagree. What that oil wealth could have done in other hands…

  He checked his radio one final time, and then switched it off. They didn’t dare risk any transmissions now that the aliens were on the scene, looking for the insurgents; he’d just have to hope that they all made it to the various safe houses before it was too late. The aliens were expanding out now from their landing zones, looking for trouble. He said a silent prayer for anyone they caught and kept moving. It wouldn’t be long before it became unsafe to walk anywhere.

  “I made it,” he said, as he finally reached the safe house and slipped inside. Several of the former prisoners had been brought to the house and were being examined by doctors. “How are they?”

  “Bad, but they’ll live,” the doctor said. “You did well today.”

  Kalid snorted. “Thank you,” he said. “Now we’ll just have to lie low for a few weeks.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Over Saudi Arabia (Occupied)/Tel Aviv

  Day 179

  The night sky above was clear, with thousands of stars – and the lights of alien spacecraft, high overhead – shining down on the Lightning as he flew into Saudi Arabia at subsonic speed. No one knew for sure how the aliens tracked human aircraft, but IAF analysts had wondered if they had problems tracking subsonic stealth aircraft. The aliens had tracked the Raptors and Lightnings the Americans had deployed easily, yet they’d had problems tracking refurbished F-117s. Personally, Captain Menahem Kapel thought that they were grasping at straws, even though he had to admit that they had no choice. Night was finally falling over Israel.

  Three days, he thought. It had been three days since the alien craft had come over the border and engaged the IAF. In those three days, the IAF had been critically weakened; the Air Defence Network had been hammered so badly that it could no longer hold the line and dozens of bases had been wrecked. The IAF was now flying out of civilian airports and airfields, which meant that the aliens targeted them as well. It was a strange war – the aliens didn’t seem to want to cause civilian casualties – yet the outcome was no longer in doubt. Israel was on the verge of losing her independence once and for all.

  He thought about the single weapon under his wing and winced again. They’d practiced deploying nuclear weapons against human targets, but he’d hoped that he would never have to take the responsibility for launching a nuke in anger. It would be the ninth nuclear warhead Israel would deploy in anger – the others had been used to try to swat more alien craft out of the sky – and it would be targeted on one of the alien cities. Almost all of Israel’s nuclear arsenal was being deployed against the aliens in hopes that if Israel were to be lost, they could at least take thousands of the enemy down with them. He thought about the men and women in the hidden launch silos under the ground – those that the aliens hadn’t targeted and destroyed – preparing to launch their missiles towards alien targets. They had braced themselves to destroy Arab cities, to commit mass murder so that Israel might live, but now…the alien retaliation might eliminate Israel once and for all.

  “You will fly as low as possible along the preset course, using no active sensors of any kind,” the briefing officer had said. “When you reach your target, you will go to full military power and deploy the weapon as soon as possible. Be careful of ground fire or any CAP force orbiting the alien base. Once the weapon is deployed, return to base.”

  Menahem had laughed at that, for it didn’t take a genius to know that there was little hope of escape. The aliens would come after him, intent on shooting him down and exacting revenge…and if he somehow managed to eject in time before he was killed in the blast, he’d fall right into a free-fire region that covered the entire area. Down below, alien collaborators battled Islamic fanatics, criminal gangs and the remnants of the professional armies of the Middle East. Israel had tried to track and direct their activities as much as possible, but it had proven impossible. A single Israeli pilot who crash-landed in the area would be lucky if he only ended up dead.

  He looked down at his HUD, wondering if he’d have any warning before a patrolling alien craft scythed him out of the sky. Part of him wished that that would happen and save him from having to deploy the nuke. They weren't talking about killing invading warriors, but women and children, even if they were alien women and children. Did they deserve to die because their leaders had launched a war of aggression against Israel? He’d trained on the assumption that Israel would face the Arabs one final time and that the Arab populations would be cheering for the destruction of Israel, not aliens who might have been innocent, of everything apart from having been born the wrong race. Human racism was stupid, the folly of a diseased mind, yet was racism directed against other intelligent races a survival trait?

  The IAF pilots had discussed the question endlessly, wondering if the American pilots who’d destroyed two Japanese cities had asked themselves the same question. It had been easier then. The Japanese had not only launched a war of aggression, but they’d refused to surrender when the war was clearly hopeless and were still making insane proclamations of victory to their own people. An invasion would have killed millions of American and Japanese – soldiers and civilians, in the case of the latter – and a blockade would have starved the Japanese to death before their leadership surrendered. The nukes had been the best of a set of bad options. Here…he was talking about unleashing nuclear fire on a race that might not have chosen to invade the Earth. No, that was absurd; they could have dealt fairly with humanity. He wiped his sweaty forehead and looked down at the timer. There were seven minutes until he was over the target, if he wasn't shot down by then. It occurred to him that he could just fly the aircraft into the ground, yet training and discipline prevented it. If Israel was going to be lost forever, he’d made sure that the aliens knew they’d paid a high price for it.

  His hands gripped the stick firmly as the timer ticked down. No one knew for sure how protected the alien bases were, but no one was prepared to gamble that they were undefended. Reports from America suggested that they had ground-based plasma cannon systems and perhaps ground-based lasers as well, although if the latter were present, he was dead the moment he rose above the horizon. Plasma cannons could be evaded, laser beams – which moved at the speed of light – could not be. Building a laser system that could shoot down missiles and aircraft was the holy grail of defence researchers all around the world. If the aliens had succeeded…

  Now, he thought, and hit the afterburners. The Lightning rocketed forward, the force of the acceleration pressing him back into his seat, as he rose up towards the alien city. It was a strange ugly mass on the ground, glowing faintly with illumination that seemed somehow…wrong, or perhaps he was just imagining it. He keyed the weapons box with one hand and armed the warhead. There were bare seconds to go…

  The ground lit up with sparks of brilliant green light and he started to flip the aircraft from side to side, evading the incoming ground fire. The aliens could pump out a hell of a lot of pulses, he realised; sooner or later, he’d steer out of the path of one bolt and right into the path of another. They seemed to have surrounded their city with defences that just poured fire towards any intruder, even if there was no sign of a CAP. They were probably all out attacking Israel. The timer ticked down the zero as he flew right over the alien city and released the bomb. The technicians had coated it in stealth composites, hoping that the aliens would miss it being deployed instead of trying to destroy it – unlike conventional bombs, a nuke couldn’t be set off by a nearby explosion – and it was untouched as it fell towards the city. He triggered his afterburners again and fled, barely evading a plasma bolt that came so close that it s
corched the wing. Alarms sounded in the cockpit, but he felt fairly certain that he could still fly home…

  Behind him, the world lit up as the bomb detonated. A brilliant evil-looking fireball rose up, rapidly forming into a glowing mushroom cloud. Just for a second, he imagined he could see a laughing face within the glow reflected on his cockpit, mocking him and all of humanity. The shockwave struck the plane and he fought for control, dismissing the illusion as the Lightning threatened to dive into the ground and explode. A cold deadness gripped his heart. He’d never really believed that he could make it. Now he’d dropped a nuke in anger…

  His threat receiver lit up with a warning, too late. The alien fighter behind him had materialised out of nowhere. He started to throw the Lightning into an evasive pattern, but it was too late. A plasma bolt struck the craft’s tail and the world vanished in a massive fireball.

  ***

  President Ehud Barak was shivering as he looked up at the massive display. It was impossible to forget, yet hard to remember, that each of the red flashes on the display meant that a nuke had been detonated. It was beyond comprehension. How many aliens had they killed in each flash?

  “We are two hours into OPPLAN Masada,” the operator said. Ehud wondered how the young man felt about the mass slaughter that was being carried out under his watch. “We hit five alien installations, but they’re now aware of the threat and are taking counter-measures. We lost five Jericho missiles to their craft as they gave chase to the missiles. Four other nukes were detonated by commando teams against targets of significance…”

  Ehud looked at the display. Another pair of outgoing tracks was closing in on an alien installation. One vanished minutes before it could reach its target, the second exploded, allowing the sensors to register a nuclear detonation. The incoming tracks – alien craft attacking Israel – were becoming more and more numerous as the aliens targeted everywhere that could hide a nuclear silo. The country was being ravaged by the aliens and the remainder of the IAF couldn’t stop them. It was the end of days.

  “And four more missiles are being readied for launch now against surviving targets,” the operator continued. “They’re being primed…”

  “Enough,” Ehud snapped. “How many did we kill?”

  “Unknown,” the operator said. “We have no figures for how many aliens are in each of their cities. They don’t allow humans inside their bases…”

  “How wise of them,” Ehud said. “Find out!”

  He’d given an impossible order, but the operator nodded and left the room, leaving the President alone with his thoughts. The nightmarish hours wore on, with fewer and fewer missiles reaching their targets. The Air Defence Network had been cracked open and shattered, allowing the aliens unfettered access to all of Israel. New windows opened on the display as he watched, reporting base after base knocked out of commission, with thousands of civilian deaths for the first time as airports were targeted as well. They’d targeted the Aswan High Dam in Egypt in hopes of drowning a pair of alien cities – the risk of flying aircraft or missiles was too high with so many alien craft in the area – and they would have drowned Cairo as well. How many more were going to die in the war?

  The other display showed scenes from Israel’s handful of ports. Ships were loading up with refugees and transporting them to destinations in Europe, away from the aliens. Ehud had spoken personally with political leaders from all across Europe, begging and pleading for them to take as many refugees as could be salvaged from Israel. They'd all placed caps on how many they’d take permanently, although they’d said they’d provide transit camps for as many as possible for the first few weeks, at least until they knew what would happen to Israel. Ehud doubted that it would be anything good. His actions had made sure of that, yet…what other choice had he had? If Jews had fought the Germans when they had first come to take them away…

  He shook his head. There was no point in second-guessing himself. He’d launched Operation Masada against the aliens, using missiles, aircraft and commando teams, and killed hundreds of thousands – perhaps millions – of the People. Israel was rapidly running out of nukes to deploy and, now that the aliens were ready for them, they were being wasted. He picked up the keyboard and typed a single command. No more nukes were to be deployed against the aliens. It was growing increasingly pointless.

  There was a knock at the door. “Mr President,” the operator said, “one of the big alien craft is moving overhead!”

  Ehud almost ordered the Air Defence Network to target it, before realising how foolish such an order would be. The alien craft was in Low Earth Orbit, completely out of reach, hanging over Israel like the angel of death. No one knew why the aliens didn’t simply use their advantage, the complete control of space, to bombard humanity into submission, although Ehud had his own private theory that the aliens wanted human social structures to remain fairly intact.

  “I see,” he said. The alien craft was larger than anything humanity had ever put in space, by far. It was humbling to know that it was smaller than the massive alien mothership, which was still holding station above the North Pole. Humanity had refused to develop space and gain access to the infinite resources there. The aliens had reaped what humanity had refused to sow. “What is it doing?”

  “We don’t know,” the operator said. “We…”

  He broke off as something separated from the alien craft, falling down towards the Earth. “Sir, they launched a missile towards the city,” he added. “We have to get you out of here.”

  “There’s no point,” Ehud said. The Prime Minister and the remainder of the Israeli Government was scattered around the country, those that had survived the alien attacks. “Where would we go?”

  He watched as the red icon fell towards Tel Aviv, knowing what it was. The aliens had deployed a kinetic bunker-busting weapon against NORAD in the United States, smashing their way through the rocky mountain and destroying the base beyond any hope of repair. They knew about his bunker and they intended to kill him – and destroy the Israeli Government – except his bunker was deep under a populated city. They’d not just wreck the bunker, but kill hundreds of thousands of innocent civilians…

  Slowly, he closed his eyes and waited for the end.

  ***

  Shahar Shaindel threw herself to the ground as white light flared up in the distance, trusting in the old Civil Defence courses she’d taken during her military service to keep her alive. They’d been taught how to survive nuclear hits – assuming, of course, that they weren't at ground zero and therefore almost certainly dead – and she rolled under the table, hoping that it would protect her from falling debris. The hospital had been built to survive incoming mortar and rocket rounds from terrorist forces, but no one had tested it against a nuke. The ground shook violently as the blast wave blew out windows and sent equipment flying, yet somehow she remained unscathed. The aftershocks echoed backwards and forwards for a long moment, and then faded away.

  Carefully, she pulled herself to her feet, checking for any injuries. She breathed a silent prayer of thanks when she realised that she was uninjured, and then ran towards the first of the wounded, lying on the floor. The hospital had been overflowing with wounded from the war ever since the first day, men and women who had been injured in combat against the aliens, and supplies had been on the verge of running out. They'd even had to start turning away patients and directing them to emergency facilities, praying that none of them would die in transit. The doctors and nurses were hopelessly overworked. They all needed sleep desperately.

  Some of the patients had been hit by flying glass and she did what she could for them, hunting for plasters and improvised bandages. She’d never seen the hospital so short of supplies and she knew that her superiors would complain if she gave them any painkillers or morphine, not when there were so many more deserving cases about to be pouring into the hospital. She stopped as her mind caught up with events and turned to stare out of the shattered window. She found herself l
ooking out onto a scene of complete devastation. The city’s centre had been completely shattered and hundreds of buildings had been knocked down. It occurred to her that she could be breathing in radiation, so she checked the emergency case’s Geiger counter. It recorded nothing more than the standard level of radiation. Whatever had hit the city – and she was mortally certain that it had been an attack – it hadn’t been a nuke.

  She lost control of herself and broke down, feeling tears trickling down her cheeks. There would be millions of walking wounded out there, all descending on the hospital, and they couldn’t even begin to treat even a tiny fraction of them. She’d seen patients die from lack of supplies and proper treatment – was she going to have to see the same thing again and again and again? What had Israel done that the aliens would call down so much punishment on their city? How many would die in the next few days from lack of treatment? How many…?

  “It’s all right,” a voice said, from behind her. She turned to see one of the doctors, an older man whose parents had both died at the hands of the Nazis. “We’ll help as many as we can, I promise.”

  Shahar wanted to scream at him. Didn’t he see the truth? Didn’t he see that there was no way they could help even a tiny percentage of the patients? Didn’t he see? She looked into his eyes and realised that he knew it as well as she did. They could only help a tiny fraction, but they would help them, and as many others as they could. It was their duty.

  Sternly, she wiped her face and returned to work.

 

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