“We’re going to have problems of our own,” Cheryl added as she looked around the group. “Nearly everyone in Smithfield has family and friends still on Earth. We’re going to have a rough couple of months ahead of us.”
Everyone was silent as they thought over what was ahead of them. Their lives were about to change, and the entire premise behind Smithfield and its parent corporation was now history.
-
Marine Captain Mark Stevens gazed down at the Jornada space complex. He and his company of marines had been reassigned to protect the facility. He knew that four other companies would soon be en route also. They had been undergoing maneuvers in the desert near White Sands and been reassigned to the space complex. Even as they prepared to land, he saw a shuttle accelerate down the nearest runway and head up toward space. In his briefing, he had been told that the space complex was going to be a gathering place for survivors from the catastrophe that was overtaking the planet.
Looking up into the clear blue sky, it was hard to imagine the disaster that was unfolding around them. The base commander had told him and the other four captains that it would only be a matter of a few days before they began feeling the effects of the calamity.
As soon as the helicopter touched down, he and his marines climbed out. They were directed toward a large hanger with open doors. Once inside, they found a marine major waiting for them, along with several other men who were obviously officials from the space complex.
“I’m Major Anderson and will be in charge of this operation,” the officer said. Then gesturing toward an older man near him, he continued. “This is Lawrence Henderson, the chief operations and flight control officer here at Jornada. He has a few words to say to you to further explain our mission.”
Lawrence looked over the assembled marines and then began speaking. “As all of you know the alien ship that was in orbit, besides abducting a large number of military personnel, launched a missile at Earth as it was leaving. That missile exploded deep inside our planet and has set off a series of massive earthquakes as well as volcanic eruptions. Orbital observations indicate the earthquakes are worsening, and more volcanoes are erupting every hour. In just a matter of weeks or perhaps days, our planet will become uninhabitable.”
The marines looked at one another and a few began talking. “What’s going to happen to us?” asked one of the marines, receiving an icy glare from the major.
“We’re going to evacuate as many people as we can to Luna City and Vesta,” Lawrence replied in a somber tone. “Preparations are already being made to expand both to accommodate more people. While that is being done, we will be gathering survivors here at the spaceport. We’ll be putting up facilities for people to stay in that will give them breathable air and a chance to live. Your job will be to protect this complex until we can all evacuate.”
“What about our families?” another marine asked worriedly. His wife was in Missouri. “What’s going to happen to them?”
“We will rescue those we can,” Lawrence promised. “Our big concern right now is that as soon as people realize this spaceport is their only hope for survival, we may be swamped with an influx of refugees.”
Major Anderson nodded and took over. “There will be more regular army units as well as our other four companies of marines arriving over the next several days. We will be setting up a perimeter five miles out from the spaceport. We have White Sands to our west, so our main concern will be the other three directions.”
“You will also have to protect the town of Jornada where most of the families of the people who work here at the launch center live,” Lawrence added.
“What do we do with the civilians that show up?” asked a female marine.
“We will be setting up a screening facility just outside the perimeter,” the major replied. “Civilians will be screened, and those that are found acceptable will be allowed access to the complex and the accommodations that are being prepared.”
“What about the rest?” the female marine asked. “What do we do with them?”
“We’re still working on that,” Major Anderson replied as he looked over at Lawrence Henderson. “We have some important decisions to make in the next twenty-four hours; we’ll let you know more then.”
Captain Stevens listened to the major, knowing there might be problems if they received a massive influx of refugees. He looked over his marines and could see the growing unease in their eyes. Many were worried about their families, and others were still feeling confused about the situation. Captain Stevens didn’t blame them, hell; he was feeling confused as well!
-
Darren was watching the main viewscreen intently. They were searching the United States for safe zones where people could be directed until they could be rescued. Every instrument the station had was pointed at the Earth and information was being fed into the station’s computers.
“The Earthquakes are getting worse and more volcanoes are erupting,” Shirley Melvin reported as she looked over the latest data. Even as she spoke the station’s meteorologist, Juan Ramos, came into the Control Center carrying a large sheaf of computer printouts.
“The weather patterns are changing rapidly,” Juan reported with deep concern on his face as he walked over to Darren. “In the next forty-eight hours we will see steadily increasing clouds and a wide range of weather. High winds, torrential rain, and about everything else you can imagine.”
“What about safe areas?” Darren demanded. “Are there places we can direct the survivors to?”
“There are a couple of areas in Texas that may be relatively safe,” Juan replied. “The spaceport should be safe for the time being. The best bet may be to instruct the survivors to stay in their homes and wait for rescue. It’s not going to be safe for them to travel.”
Darren frowned; the job ahead of them was staggering. They needed to start rescuing key people, ones that would be useful and not dead weight. They would need helicopters and other vehicles to find the individuals they needed. He would have to call Lawrence again. His friend at the military base, General Wainright, would have to be called upon to furnish the necessary equipment. He just hoped the general would cooperate.
Kristen was sitting at her communications console listening to the various com channels. Every one she went to was filled with pleas for help. Earthquakes were leaving hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of people, homeless. Erupting volcanoes were wiping out entire communities and sending millions of tons of ash up into the atmosphere. She also knew that huge tidal waves were striking the coasts of many countries around the world, causing massive devastation.
As she listened, she could hear people pleading for help, and no one was replying. Everyone had their own problems and there was no help to give. She wiped the tears from her eyes and changed the channel back to listen to Luna City and Vesta; she didn’t want to hear the desperate cries for help from Earth any longer.
-
Captain Stevens peered through his high powered binoculars across the flat desert terrain. A few cactus and small, scattered plants were all that he could see. In the distance, he could barely make out the town of Jornada. The major had informed him that two of the marine companies that would be arriving in the morning would be assigned to guarding the town.
There were few roads in this section of the desert, and he had already set up checkpoints on the two that ran through his area. Unfortunately, one of the two roads was the main one that serviced the spaceport. If there were going to be problems that was the road they would be coming down. He had one hundred and six marines in his command and a five-mile stretch of land to patrol.
“Damn, it’s hot,” complained Lieutenant Griffith, as he walked up to the captain. “I’ve never liked the desert.”
“Have the men set up some tent canopies for shade,” Stevens ordered as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He had requested a large number of canopies and fully intended to put them to use to protect his marines. “We have several jee
ps from the spaceport; use them to take cold water to our people periodically. We don’t need anyone to have a heat stroke out here.”
“Yes, Sir,” replied Lieutenant Griffith. He looked up and noticed the sky had an unhealthy tinge to it. “How long are we going to have to be out here?”
“As long as it takes,” Stevens replied as he thought over the best defensive strategy for the area he had to cover. “I will set our command center up here and another behind the check point at the main road. If we have survivors coming, that’s the route they will take.”
“I’ll be glad when our heavy equipment gets here,” Griffith added as he looked up and down the stretch of desert they were expected to guard.
They needed some LAVs and Humvees for additional firepower. There just wasn’t much cover and Stevens didn’t like the idea of his marines being so exposed. He turned to go back to his jeep and check on the positions being set up. It was going to be a long and hot day, and then there was the night, which wouldn’t be much better.
-
Lawrence had just gotten off the phone with General Wainright. After a long talk, the general had agreed to try to procure as many helicopters as possible along with more troops. He had some communication lines still open with a few of his superiors, but not many. The military had been hit as hard as the civilians in the disaster that was rolling across the country. He would also be sending some heavier equipment in the morning to reinforce the marines. There was a nearby airbase as well as the White Sands test range that could be called upon for help.
After speaking with General Wainright, Lawrence went to the complex’s Control and Operations Center. Stepping inside, Lawrence looked around. There were over forty people in the room manning the consoles and computers.
He stepped over to the main communications console where Marsha Trask, his second in command, was speaking with several communication specialists. “What’s the latest, Marsha?” asked Lawrence, seeing the pained look upon her face.
“It’s horrible, Lawrence,” she replied, shaking her head in despair. “All we’re picking up are pleas for help. We have numerous reports of earthquakes and volcanic eruptions. Mount St. Helens, Mount Rainier, Lassen Peak, Mount Hood, and others have erupted. More are being reported every hour. We also have an unconfirmed report of eruptions at Yellowstone; Holbrook is checking into that. Both the East and West Coasts have been hit by massive tidal waves.”
Lawrence felt numb knowing that millions of helpless people were being killed. He looked up at several large viewscreens, which showed views from space of the Earth. Already, the atmosphere was changing to a darker, more threatening color. Soon, much of the light from the sun would be blocked out.
“We are in a dire situation, Marsha,” explained Lawrence, thinking about what all needed to be done. “Get with our people and set up more shuttle launches for tomorrow. I want to start sending four hundred people a day up to Holbrook Station. We also need to take two of our larger hangars and set them up to hold refugees. The hangars will need some type of air filtration systems to take out contaminants. We also need to find as many breathing masks as possible. General Wainright said the military bases may be able to furnish some of those.”
“What’s going to happen, Lawrence?” Marsha asked, deeply concerned. She trusted Lawrence to tell her the truth.
“We’re leaving,” he replied after a moment, his face taking on a somber look. “The Earth is finished. We’re going to evacuate as many people as possible to Luna City and Vesta, and maybe even a few to Mars Central.”
“My family?” asked Marsha, suddenly feeling worried for their safety. Her husband worked at the spaceport, and her teenage son attended school in Jornada City where their home was.
“Your family too,” Lawrence assured her. “The families of the people working here will have first priority.”
The Control Center suddenly began trembling, and the lights briefly flickered. A faint rumbling could be heard in the distance.
“What’s that?” Marsha asked, her eyes widening.
“An earthquake,” Lawrence answered as the trembling subsided. “I think we had better get used to them.”
He spent a few more minutes giving Marsha instructions and then went on to talk to a few others. They had a lot of work to do, and he didn’t know how much time they would be given to get it all done.
-
Michael Kirby frowned at reading his most recent orders. Brian had just handed him the latest communication from the Control Center at Vesta. He read them again with a heavy frown crossing his face.
“We’re to return to Vesta immediately for possible assignment to Holbrook Station,” he read aloud, looking over at his second in command. “What do you make of these orders, Brian?”
“All hell’s broken out on Earth,” Brian responded in a strained voice. “This sounds to me as if the Raven is going to be used for some type of rescue operation.”
“We’ll have to ask someone else to keep an eye on our mining operations,” said Michael, thinking about which one of the other prospectors he could trust. He also knew that whomever he asked would demand a hefty fee.
“Get the crew ready; tell them we’re returning to Vesta immediately,” Michael ordered. He hoped this ordeal with the aliens hadn’t frightened Susan too much. He also wondered just how bad the situation on Earth was. If he was being ordered to be prepared to go to Holbrook Station, then it must be grim indeed.
-
Mason was in his office going over the latest reports from his people. Ethan Hall had already begun converting two of the cargo ships to handle evacuees. Keith Davis was busy with his engineers preparing to start blasting the first of the new tunnels. Lori Wright had just finished talking to him about what she could do to increase food production as well as recycle their air and water. She had also requested that they try to procure some additional environmental equipment. Some of it he could get from Jornada, the rest he would have to check on.
Mason looked up at the large viewscreen on the far wall of his office. Normally it showed a scene from inside Smithfield or of the stars. Now it was showing the latest video feed from Luna City. The view was of the Earth, highly magnified. There were very few areas of blue sky now. Storms were increasing, and conditions on the surface were rapidly deteriorating.
He had Cheryl Robinson working on a list of people they were going to try to find and rescue. He was recalling several of the prospecting ships because they were the only ships he had at his disposal with powerful enough engines to land on Earth and take off again. He knew that Michael and a few others could be depended on to do whatever was necessary.
Cheryl was compiling a list of scientists, engineers, technicians, doctors and others that would be needed if Vesta, Luna City, and Mars Central were to survive. Fortunately, a number of the brightest were already working for Smithfield or were at Luna City or Mars Central. Mason planned to send ten prospecting ships to Holbrook Station to assist in the evacuations and the search for specific individuals. Their main priority would be the people on the list that Cheryl was compiling. They would also be used to salvage certain equipment that was needed by the space outposts.
Before proceeding to the station, all ten would be docking at Vesta and undergoing a minor refit to allow for passengers. According to Ethan, he could quickly modify two of the prospecting ship’s four small cargo holds to handle survivors. He already had the plans worked up and work crews on standby, and was fairly certain he could complete the modifications on all ten ships in four days if they worked around the clock. Mason knew the bigger job was going to be explaining to the ship captains why their ships were being modified.
“It’s getting bad on Earth, isn’t it, Sir?” Adrienne asked as she gazed with fear in her eyes at the viewscreen. She had just stepped into Mason’s office to ask him a couple of questions about the disaster. “My parents are down there somewhere.”
“Where do they live?” asked Mason, knowing that most of the peopl
e that lived on Vesta still had family living on Earth. Everyone was going to experience losses in this disaster, some more than others.
“Seattle,” replied Adrienne, slowly. “I heard from the news reports that Seattle was struck by a tidal wave, but I don’t know how bad the damage is.”
Mason was silent as he mulled over what to say to Adrienne. He knew that the tidal wave, which had struck Seattle had been nearly two thousand feet high as it rolled across the city. The odds of her parents having survived were minuscule.
“There have been a lot of disasters across the globe today,” Mason spoke in an understanding voice. “It’s hard to say who has managed to survive; all we can do is hope.”
Adrienne nodded; she knew from the look on Mason’s face that her parents were probably gone. She took in a deep breath and tried to control her trembling. It was all she could do not to break out into tears. Holding up her head, she gazed at Mason, seeing the compassionate look upon his face. “If you need me, I will be at my desk. The ten prospecting ships should be docking shortly. I believe the Raven will be arriving first.”
“Susan will be glad to hear that,” Mason responded with a nod. He wished there was something he could say to make Adrienne feel better. He knew she didn’t have any family here in Smithfield.
Mason watched her go back to the outer office to her desk. He let out a deep breath and shook his head. The day was nearly over and there still was so much he needed to do. In the morning, more shuttles would start launching from Jornada. Mayor Silas had already given the orders to drastically increase fuel production at their facility at Luna City.
There were two shuttles equipped to carry fuel to Holbrook Station as well as the International Space Station as needed. The two shuttles were already being loaded and sent with full fuel tanks to Holbrook. Silas was already in the process of converting a third shuttle into another fuel tanker. If they were going to conduct all the rescue operations they were talking about, they would need massive amounts of fuel. Fortunately, it could be produced on the Moon.
Galactic Empire Wars: Destruction (The Galactic Empire Wars) Page 6