The World Game

by Allen Charles

  “Cadets, what is about to happen is not a drill. I repeat that this is NOT a drill. There has been a security alarm that requires this transport to launch immediately. There is no time to off load us so we are going for a ride to Space City. I will advise you what the emergency is as more information comes to hand. Over to Commander Carver.”

  “Thank you Col. Fuller. In the last few moments I was advised that the USA has entered the highest Defence Condition due to an Iranian Missile launch. The President is aboard Airforce One. Our standing orders are to get off planet as quickly as possible. We launch in 20 seconds.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Korean Hegemony, Pyongyang, 25th June, 9.15 pm

  Lun Jong Ill was enraged. Unable to turn the keys for the missile launch sequence, he had called for maintenance to bring a diamond bit drill and drill out the locks, not realizing that it wouldn’t help. Two headless bodies lay on the floor nearby with the head of the facility commander staring sightlessly at the heels of his own shoes as it lay under the desk. The other body that of a guard who had stepped in to help his beleaguered commander, and paid the ultimate penalty.

  Jong Ill was prancing around bashing consoles and screaming his head off. Blood from the corpses was splattered everywhere as he slapped his shoes into the pooling gore. Other staff in the area cringed and shrank down in chairs trying to disappear under desks or slinking behind file cabinets.

  A terrified maintenance worker came into the launch console room and after one look vomited up his last meal. Jong Ill thought better of adding the poor man to the corpse count as he needed him to work the drill. He grabbed the hapless worker by the collar and dragged him through the blood and vomit to the launch console. The stench was overwhelming and the worker shaking in terror, unable to hold the drill steady as he cried and whimpered.

  Jong Ill took the man’s head by grabbing his ears and stared him in the face.

  “If you do not drill these locks exactly as I tell you we will all be dead in minutes. Iran has launched nuclear missiles at us. These locks are blocking our defense! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

  The worker calmed a little and nodded yes. Jong Ill released him and pointed at the console. The worker took a deep breath of the fouled air and positioned the bit right on the barrel groove in line with the tumblers and started drilling.

  Senses stunned by the intense whine of the drill an officer came running into the room, not seeing the mess on the floor and slipping into a flying back flop on the floor with an audible crack of bones breaking, coming to a sliding rest under the console. He groaned and shook his head to clear some of the pain, gasping to deliver his message. Jong Ill tapped the drill operator and signalled him to cut the power.

  “Supreme Leader,” the officer grimaced with the effort, “We have confirmation of an Iranian orbital launch of one rocket only. It is not targeted on us.” He gave a look of relief at Jong Ill and collapsed back, unconscious.

  Jong Ill pursed his lips and looked thoughtful for a moment. He gestured to the worker, “Keep drilling! Fast as you can!” There was no doubt in his mind that this was part of an Iranian scenario to take out the Hegemony. He would try to first strike, but he wondered what else was going to fail to operate.

  “Hurry! Hurry!” The poor worker looked at Jong Ill, cowering like a beaten puppy. Chasings of hardened alloy steel powder flew from the drill bit and acrid smoke permeated the air with the smell of burned metal. The penetration of the bit was just so slow that it appeared not to be moving at all. Jong Ill’s impatience was getting the better of him and he began to lose control, flicking his laser sword on and slicing pieces off the nearest office chair. The drill operator, already in a bad way, was now shaking in uncontrolled fear causing the drill bit to chatter wildly.

  “Watch what you are doing!” shrilled Jong Ill, beating the hapless worker with the rolled up coding papers. The man cracked, released the drill and fell to the floor, curled in a fetal position as the drill went silent. Jong Ill lost it completely and started slicing the worker into pieces with the laser sword, the screams of agony and terror dying into a gurgle as guts spilled across the older gore and another head rolled away. Behind Jong Ill, a desk worker had hefted a solid paper weight and crept up on him as he panted and looked down at the butchery he has just done. The man slammed Jong Ill in the back of the head, crushing in his skull like a raw egg and the body just dropped like a rock, without a sound. There was an audible sigh of relief from everyone in the room. Everyone looked about when the realization of what had just occurred hit home. So used to being followers, there was no one who could take charge. No one to stop the madness. No one to call out to the world for help.

  One by one, and then as a group, they fled the room and the complex. The message spread. Jong Ill is dead. The Iranian nuclear missiles are coming. Run for your lives!

  CHAPTER 16

  Aboard Airforce One. 25th June, 8.15 am

  The President, Director Chuck Hanes and Secretary of State June Beauvais watched the live nanobot paint feed from the Korean center. June retched at the gory slaughter, but this time was able to control herself.

  “With Jong Ill out of the way and no succession we may be able to turn Korea around.” the President suggested as he watched the staff fleeing the control center. “Provided of course that there is still a Korea left to turn. What do you think people?”

  “Mr. President,” replied Chuck, “Korea is not our biggest problem right now. Our own safety and whatever Iran is up to are the immediate concern. Our analysts have projected the orbit of the Iranian vehicle for the next 24 hours. In around thirty minutes it will be over the center of the United States. We need to take it out now.” Chuck was intense, the stress levels showing.

  June concurred. “I agree Mr. President. We cannot risk waiting to find out what they are up to. I would wager that they are banking on our policy of delaying overtly aggressive moves as we have always done in the past.”

  “What are our options Chuck?” the President was unruffled and holding himself together, calming Hanes.

  “We really have only one sure fire option that will leave no doubt. An AMD. It is drastic and dangerous, but not as much as underestimating the Iranians. We can target and launch on your command Mr. President.”

  “June?” the President queried.

  “I agree Mr. President. We have to be 100% sure of a knockdown.”

  “So be it. I order you Mr. Director, to initiate the destruction of the Iranian orbital vehicle using an Anti-matter Device without further delay.” The President signalled the “football” carrier to approach and unlocked the briefcase containing the launch codes. June, as the next most senior official present had verification codes. The appropriate numbers were punched in to the traditional suitcase computer which transmitted to a satellite and bounced to the Virginia launch center. Within two minutes a missile silo in the fields of Wyoming slid open and the missile was ready to fly.

  The launch sequence counted down, 10, 9, 8, 7... suddenly klaxon alarms screamed for an abort, officers ran to preset positions screaming out “Abort! Shut down! Abort! Abort”

  Aboard Airforce One the abort was noted and a reason demanded by the President.

  The Chief of the Air Force appeared on a wall screen facing the President and his assistants.

  “Report General!” the President demanded.

  “Mr. President, we have detected a may-day signal coming from the same orbital region as the Iranian vehicle. It is not precisely the same position, but very close, say within 200 yards. The transponder identification indicates that this is one of our Space City transports in trouble.” The president was about to interject with a question when the General cut him off and continued.

  “Please wait Mr. President. The only Nasa Transport in transit at this time left the Goddard Skyhook launch terminus when the DefCon was raised. As per protocol under DefCon 1, the Transport launched immediately and should be climbing the Skyhook - it should not and could not be where th
is signal is originating. The situation is that the 20 high school guests at Goddard were aboard for orientation with their instructor, Lt Col John Fuller and pilot Commander Janine Carver. We are not sure about anything from the may-day origin vehicle, except that the transponder codes are genuine. We are trying to contact both Carver’s transport and the one issuing the may-day to sort this out.”

  “Stand by General.” The President turned to Hanes and Beauvais. “Sacrifice the few for the good of the many?”

  Hanes and Beauvais looked at each other and then back at the President, neither wanting to be the one to condemn innocent children, even for the sake of the many. The President’s shoulders sagged as he weighed and made his decision.

  “General,” the General nodded, “Take out the Iranian vehicle.”

  “Yes Mr. Pres... wait...ohh...” there was a pause for a few seconds as the General listened intently to his ear bud. He looked up. “Critical developments, Mr. President. We have identified activity in the launch origin area of the first vehicle. We believe up to 20 concealed silos are being prepared for launch. Joint Chiefs suggest we target the ready AMD on Iran and launch immediately Mr. President. It appears that the first launch is in fact a decoy.”

  June and Chuck both released pent up breath in relief and waved accent to proceed with the General’s suggestion.

  “You have my authority to divert the AMD to the new coordinates, but prepare another missile for the orbital vehicle and take it out as soon as you confirm the May Day as a hoax decoy. Please try to double confirm by locating our transport, but that is NOT a priority. I will send new release codes momentarily. Thank you General.”

  The President keyed a new sequence into the briefcase computer and sat back. He looked at Hanes and Beauvais and said “Now what?”

  CHAPTER 17

  Missile Control, Denver. 25th June, 7.25 am central.

  The AMD missile lifted on a billowing pillow of roiling cotton white clouds and blinding exhaust gases, tracing a chef perfect, creamy piped vapor pillar into the cloudless blue sky over the lazy wheat fields of Wyoming.

  “This is NSA, Denver Colorado, Mr. President.”

  “Yes Denver. This is the President, Secretary of State Beauvais and Director Hanes. What do you have for us?”

  “Mr. President, we have been unable to confirm the identity of the may-day source which leads us to believe it is totally a decoy. At the same time we have contact from Commander Carver that the Space City Transport is on the Skyhook at maximum acceleration and more than half way to the terminus. The recommendation is to eliminate the Iranian vehicle without further delay.”

  “Thank you NSA Colorado. Air Chief of Staff will be advised momentarily to initiate launch.”

  The president swung back to the wall screen where the General now stepped back into the picture. “General, are we ready to take out the Iranian vehicle?”

  “Mr. President, the missile is in the last few minutes of programming for launch. As we are not using an AMD our targeting must be precise. We are about three minutes away from launch.”

  “Thank you General, authorization codes are .... now what?” Once again there were screaming sirens and flashing lights, with people racing all over the place behind the General. He listened again and then looked up, concern written over his face.

  “We have multiple launches from the Iranian vehicle Mr. President. They are on short trajectory non orbital paths accelerating straight downwards as orbital mechanics allow. Target projection is Yellowstone National Park. There are ten incoming bogies in a stream with computed 15 second impact intervals. First impact in ten minutes.”

  “Can we take them out General?”

  “We may be able to stop the last few, but our launched defenses will not bear on target in time to prevent initial impact Sir.”

  “Why Yellowstone? Yogi Bear can’t hurt Iran.” The President shook his head with an expression of disbelief. “This makes no sense at all.”

  “Unfortunately, yes it does Mr. President.” Chuck had been Google searching his tablet computer and pressed a “RUN” button. A voice and hologram appeared over the screen.

  “Yellowstone National Park is the epicenter of the earth’s next super volcano, the same as the one that may have wiped out life on earth 160 million years ago. Under Yellowstone lies a great magma plume that penetrates the earth’s mantle and closes with the surface, showing itself as hot mud geysers, earthquakes and limited eruptions. It is the “Big One” waiting to happen. Nature will sooner or later touch it off, or maybe man will do it sooner. However it happens, life on earth will change if not vanish entirely.”

  “That’s the Iranian target Mr. President. The magma plume. They want to set off a super volcano and bury us.”

  “Every fighter plane, every missile, anything flying in range... get it into the area. Stop these things. General are you moving on this?”

  “Yes Sir. Everything close has been scrambled. Civilian aircraft have been redirected by ground control into the area without being informed why. We have to choke the air space and we may stop some of these. Our nuclear guys are estimating 40 to 60 megaton warheads on each device based on penetration required and interval. If we can stop at least three of them we have a slim chance.”

  “Will the warheads detonate if they are intercepted General?”

  “Our best guess under the circumstances is that they will burn up and cause some fallout, but they will be programmed for timed detonation or their sequence would not work. The warheads must be made safe until detonation.”

  “Proceed General and may God help us all.”

  The AMD was hypersonic, eating the distance to the target area at fifteen times the speed of sound. It would travel for around half an hour before it turned its trajectory downwards to commence a stealth approach to the Iranian border towards its target and detonation.

  CHAPTER 18

  Over Yellowstone Park. 25th June, 7.34 am central

  The string of nuclear tipped missiles marched down through the atmosphere, nose cones glowing with the friction heat of re-entry, the first warhead thirty seconds from impact.

  “This is VacAir Flight 67 out of Baltimore en route to Casper Natrona International Airport. Do you read me Casper Natrona flight control?”

  “VacAir 67, this is Air National Guard. There is an emergency situation. You are required to hold your position until advised. Please circle at your current altitude. What is your fuel situation Flight 67? Over.”

  “Air National Guard, we have fuel for 20 minutes holding. We are at the end of our flight from Baltimore. Over”

  “Flight 67, we anticipate a hold of not more than 5 minutes. Over”

  “Thank you National Guard. What is the nature of the emergency? Over”

  Before the National Guard could reply, the aircraft shuddered and the pressure dropped. Oxygen masks fell from the ceiling and loose papers whirled away towards the back. There was a rending and screeching of tearing metal interspersed with the muted cries of frightened passengers.

  The pilots fought for control of the airplane, but the Iranian missile, the first in the stick coming down, had sheared off the tail plane and the whole rear end of the craft. It plunged to its doom with no survivors.

  The missile was entangled in aircraft debris, undamaged externally, but no longer aerodynamic. It began to tumble out of control and did not burn up, but it did hit the ground off target and sideways, making a kinetic energy crater thirty feet deep, cracking its casing that was designed for nose impact and coming to rest, leaking radiation and fuel, in its crater.

  Fifteen seconds later the second missile impacted 1000 feet away, drilled down its 400 programmed feet and exploded. The surface effect of the nuclear blast was muted by the depth, but the bubble formed by vaporization of rock, mud and water was instantly blasted full of magma from a side plume unknown to the Iranians. A huge, hot magma swimming pool awaited further warheads with the pressure buildup below pumping the super volcano far
more than ever anticipated. This was a disaster of unimaginable proportion, and end of life on earth, but that life just didn’t know it yet.

  Approaching the secret launch site in Iran, the AMD missile was seconds from detonation, the first time an Anti-matter Device had been used, let alone used in anger. There was no warning. The missile was under the radar and moving too fast.

  The Iranian silos were poised to spew out their messengers of death, with the lox vapor roiling out of the openings. The roar of multiple launches and plumes of billowing white exhaust gases were overwhelming, making the arrival of the AMD insignificant.

  The AMD detonated.

  There was no overpowering blast, no blinding flash, no mushroom cloud. Just a “pop” that no one was around to hear.

  A silvery ripple, like a mercury spill, but without a source of liquid metal, started as a spherical shape at the detonation center and rapidly expanded outwards into an all consuming pancake at around 500 miles an hour.

  Every thing beneath the consuming edge turned into a smooth and reflective silver surface, flat, featureless and formless. Matter, the missile silos, the missiles and the people inside met anti-matter and became pure energy that was sucked into the earth surface, uniformly raising the potential in the region by millions of volts. A lightning show began with small discharges flashing evenly spaced throughout the expanding region. The rapidly increasing lightning strikes were running out of cloud cover to balance potential and the growing earth charge had to seek other means to distribute itself. The recently uniform potential had nowhere to go but outwards as it repelled itself from the center of the glassy plain. The edges of the ripple now glowed with the building energy of millions of volts. Long, continuos tendrils of electric arcs probed ahead of the wave looking for a resting place. The silver front had become an anti-matter energy tsunami devouring everything in its path. Nothing slowed it down.