Galactic Empire Wars: Destruction (The Galactic Empire Wars)

by Raymond L. Weil

  Reaching the processing center, Captain Stevens and Lieutenant Griffith got out of the jeep and ran quickly over to the now nearly fully enclosed structure. The temperature was down to around ten degrees with a brisk south wind blowing and no one wanted to be outside for long.

  The new processing center was a long low building with a large roof that enclosed the entire area on two sides. In the front and back there was just enough room for a single vehicle to pass through, but even those two entrances could be closed up if needed. A number of marines were on guard duty stationed close to the main gate. There were also several LAVs stationed nearby with their heavy machine guns pointed in the direction of the entrance.

  Going inside the building, Captain Stevens saw with satisfaction that the dozen marine guards inside were alert and ready to reinforce the main gate if needed. They were keeping a close watch on everything, though there hadn’t been a serious incident for days. Mark knew that the steadily deteriorating weather was helping to deter potential problems.

  “Good morning, Captain Stevens,” Major Anderson spoke as he rose from his desk upon seeing Mark. “Time for your morning inspection?”

  “Yes, Sir,” Stevens replied as he saluted. “We’re gong to check several of the infirmaries today.”

  “Be careful out there, Captain,” Major Anderson cautioned. “We ran additional electrical lines yesterday to get some heat to more of the tents. This cold and snow is making living in tent city nearly unbearable.”

  “How many people do we have now?” Lieutenant Griffith asked. He knew that, in the last week, the number of new people coming in had dwindled to just a trickle.

  “We have eight hundred thousand people living outside the fence now,” answered Major Anderson, shaking his head. “We had less than a dozen new ones show up yesterday. From what they reported, many of the roads are now impassable from the snow and ash, and fuel is almost impossible to find.”

  “How’s the food situation?” Stevens asked. The previous week they had begun rationing, allowing only two full meals a day. There had been considerable grumbling from the civilians when that had been announced.

  “General Pittman’s people found another warehouse full of MREs yesterday at one of our larger military bases that had been abandoned. They are in the process of sending helicopters to move all of them here and to the installation south of Amarillo. He also has been bringing in huge stocks of flour and the cooks at the airbase are in the process of baking massive amounts of bread. We’re hoping that by making the bread available at the mess halls in tent city it will help alleviate the food problems.”

  Stevens nodded. He knew that hungry people could rapidly become dangerous and desperate. “I hope so. We’ll check back in after our tour.”

  The two made their way back out and to the main gate. Six marines from Steven’s unit were waiting for them and they passed through the gate together.

  “Damn, it’s dark out here,” Griffith muttered as they walked away from the lights and into tent city. There were only a few lights as most of the electricity was being used to generate heat.

  The sky was overcast with a light gray snow falling. Even though it was early morning, it was still nearly dark with visibility of only a few feet. Mark knew it was like this nearly everywhere now.

  As they passed by a small tent, a woman stuck her head out and looked at them pleadingly. “Help me please; there is something wrong with my children!”

  Lieutenant Griffith looked over at Mark and then went inside the tent with the woman to check on the problem. A moment later, he came back out holding a small child wrapped in a blanket in his arms and after handing the young girl to one of the other marines, went back inside and came out with another followed closely by the mother. “We need to get these two kids to the infirmary,” reported Griffith, briskly. “They’re both suffering from hypothermia.”

  Looking at the two children in the light of a flashlight Mark could see how white their faces were. “Let’s go,” he ordered as he headed toward the closest infirmary. He hated seeing children suffering like these two were. Tent city was a harsh place to live and getting worse every day.

  It took them only a few minutes to reach the infirmary and once inside they quickly turned the two kids over to a doctor. Without surprise, Mark noticed that the beds in the infirmary were nearly full. At least it was warm, with several large electrical heaters running nonstop to keep the cold out.

  “This cold is kicking our butts,” complained one of the doctors, standing next to Mark, as several nurses and another doctor were busy checking over the two kids. “We’ve had over sixty incidents of frostbite and exposure in the last twenty-four hours. If this cold continues, we’re going to lose a lot of people.”

  Mark didn’t reply. He knew from the weather forecasts issued by Holbrook Station and the International Space Station that the weather was only going to get worse.

  -

  General Pittman was in the air in one of the large, specially equipped helicopters that could fly in the ash and cold weather. He was on his way to check on the survivor facility south of Amarillo. General Stockton was in charge of the facility and unlike Jornada, people were still flooding into his area. Pittman had arranged for more MREs to be sent to Stockton, but the food situation was starting to become a serious issue. He knew that Stockton was sending out scavenging squads around the local area to bring in everything they could find.

  Looking out the thick protective windows of the helicopter, all he could see was darkness. He knew the distance from the airbase next to White Sands to the facility just south of Amarillo was a little over four hundred miles.

  “We’ll be there in another thirty minutes,” the pilot reported over the com system. “The weather report from the facility indicates a light wind and only lightly falling ash. They have visibility of slightly over half a mile.”

  Pittman nodded. He knew the faculty they were going to had received less ash than most areas. One of the reasons he was going was that General Stockton was becoming overwhelmed with the refugees he now found under his protection. In recent days, Pittman had shifted a few more troops to Stockton’s command to help keep the situation under control. He wanted to make an inspection himself to see if anything else was needed.

  A few minutes later and they were passing over Amarillo. Looking down, the sprawling city looked like a ghost town with no lights and no sign of anything living. It was like this everywhere. Only occasionally did they see any lights on their supply and recovery missions. In a few isolated areas, people still had fuel for generators and whenever any lights were seen, reports were sent in for a possible future rescue.

  “Nearing the facility now,” the pilot reported as the helicopter began to descend.

  General Pittman looked down at the survival facility. It stretched for miles, and even from the air he could see thousands of lights. Just like Jornada, the facility had access to a number of wind generating farms for power. That was one good thing about this part of the country, including Jornada; there were plenty of large wind farms that were still operational.

  From the latest reports, General Stockton had indicated that he had over one point six million people here. Many of them from Amarillo and the Dallas-Fort Worth area. Pittman knew they needed to do some major planning if they wanted to save the majority of these refugees.

  -

  Lawrence Henderson and General Wainright were inspecting one of the new barrack shelters that had recently been finished. It was in the form of a regular army barracks with a curved roof and walls made of corrugated metal. Thick foam insulation had been added to help keep out the cold. There was a wide hallway running down the center with partitions dividing the sleeping sections to give a semblance of privacy. Each section had two sets of bunks for families and a small table with four chairs. At the far end were a set of restrooms for men and women.

  “How many can this one hold?” Lawrence asked as he noticed the warm air coming out of the ventilation
system.

  “Ninety-six,” General Wainright replied as he looked down the length of the one hundred and twenty foot hallway. “This isn’t luxurious by any means, but it’s a bed, the barracks are heated, and there are showers in the restrooms.”

  “How many of these have we built so far?” inquired Lawrence, knowing this would be a big improvement over what many of the families inside the spaceport fence were living in. Responding to Mason’s advice, they were now building more permanent structures.

  “We have built sixty-two of these so far,” Wainright replied as he stepped over and slid open the door to one of the small twelve by twelve rooms, glancing inside. “We’re planning on building another two hundred on the north side of the spaceport, and when we are finished we should have permanent facilities for forty thousand people.”

  “At least it’s warm in here,” Lawrence said, unbuttoning his coat. “How much longer are we going to be able to continue using the tents?”

  “As long as we need to,” Wainright replied. “They were designed for long-term deployment in harsh conditions, and they are hooked up to heat.”

  “What about your people at the two military bases and White Sands?”

  “We’re digging in,” answered Wainright, shutting the door to the small room. “On all three bases we currently have over one hundred and twenty thousand people. Most are military personnel and their families, plus a few civilian contractors. General Pittman feels that, in another six months, we can have everyone safely underground in new quarters and prepared to stay for the long haul.”

  “Let’s get back to the Operations Center,” Lawrence suggested.

  There was a shuttle launch scheduled in another hour, and he wanted to watch it. The shuttle was taking some environmental equipment up to Holbrook Station where it would be loaded onto the passenger liner Fantasy to be taken to Luna City.

  -

  Deep in the Pacific, a chain of underwater volcanoes suddenly vented their fury, shaking the ocean floor. The Earth’s crust beneath the volcanoes shifted and a massive fissure opened up, spewing forth molten lava. The resulting earthquake caused a nearby underwater mountain range to drop suddenly by nearly a thousand feet. Upon the surface, a tsunami formed and rushed toward the battered west coast of the United States.

  As it neared the coast, the wave rose until it towered nearly two miles in height. Striking the coastline along the California, Oregon, and Washington coasts, it swept away everything in its path. The area had already been hit by numerous tidal waves but nothing of this size and fury. The wave continued on, rolling up against the mountain ranges, but even there found its way into low-lying valleys and through mountain passes.

  The San Joaquin and Sacramento Valleys fell victim to the encroaching water as the few survivors still holding out suddenly saw a wall of water coming toward them in the dim light. In just a few hours, the valleys were flooded and nothing was left living. The wave even made its way into the Mojave Desert. When at last the tsunami began to recede, it left desolation in its wake. Buildings, roads, bridges, power lines, dams, trees, and even rivers had vanished.

  The deep layer of ash had been transformed into a swirling mass of sludge that now flowed in and covered everything. There was nothing left living in hundreds of thousands of square miles as the water flowed back into the ocean, leaving its path of destruction behind.

  Due to the shift in the ocean’s crust, more earthquakes began to rattle the globe as the Ring of Fire around the Pacific let loose in even more unbridled fury. At Yellowstone, there had been six massive volcanoes hurling lava and ash up into the air; now a new one formed directly over the ruptured Caldera. This one was larger than all the other six combined. Burning rocks were hurled up into the upper atmosphere, nearly reaching escape velocity. It would take hundreds of years for the ash from this single volcano to fall completely to Earth.

  The massive wave racing across the Pacific was not through with its destruction yet. Indonesia, Australia, the Philippines, Japan, and China felt its deadly fury. When the waters of the Pacific finally subsided, hundreds of thousands of survivors had lost their lives.

  -

  Lawrence and General Wainright were in the Operations Center when they felt the massive building shudder as the ground rumbled from an earthquake.

  “Where’s that earthquake’s epicenter?” demanded Lawrence, rushing over to where a group of men and women were bent over a set of computers, pointing and gesturing.

  “We’re not sure,” one of the men responded. “There’s been some type of major event out in the Pacific. We think the West Coast has been hit by another tidal wave of massive proportions. We are also picking up an increase in the frequency of tremors in Yellowstone. We recorded one major tremor there a few minutes ago, and we believe there is going to be another eruption if it hasn’t happened already.”

  “From the remaining instruments we have that are transmitting data, the entire Ring of Fire around the Pacific is becoming even more active. We’re talking about millions of tons of ash being hurled up into the atmosphere.”

  Lawrence looked grimly over at General Wainright. “We better talk to Mason; we might not have the time we originally thought.”

  Marsha Trask came over with a pale look upon her face. “I just finished talking to Darren Kirby on Holbrook Station; he confirms that Yellowstone has erupted again. They can see burning lava and rocks being thrown up above the cloud layer. They say the eruption is truly massive; it may be the largest one they have seen so far.”

  “This just gets worse every day,” General Wainright said with growing worry in his eyes. “Is it even going to be possible for anyone to survive here on Earth?”

  “I don’t know,” responded Lawrence, his shoulders drooping in despair. “I’m going to speak to Mayor Silas at Luna City. Our best bet may be to get as many people to the Moon as we can. While Vesta is obviously our best hope for long term survival, we may have to settle on the Moon for the short term.”

  “What are you going to ask him to do?” Marsha asked. She knew that Luna City didn’t have the resources available that Vesta did.

  “We need to find out what he needs to construct more living quarters on the Moon,” responded Lawrence, evenly. “Then we’re going to tear this country apart finding whatever he needs, even if we have to send him the construction people ourselves.”

  General Wainright nodded as he felt the Operations Center shudder again. There was no way of knowing just what the alien missile had done when it exploded in the core of the planet. He was beginning to grow concerned that what they were experiencing now was only the start of something even worse.

  -

  Mason had just finished talking to Lawrence Henderson and was still feeling stunned by the latest developments on Earth. It now seemed as if they had a much shorter timeframe to rescue survivors than they had originally believed. He was in Keith Davis’s office with Drake and Ethan Hall trying to come up with ideas on how to save the survivors on Earth.

  “This isn’t good,” commented Drake, running his right hand through his dark hair as he read the latest reports from Holbrook Station on the recent events. “These new eruptions and earthquakes are tearing the planet apart.”

  “Is there anything Mayor Silas can do to expand Luna City any faster?” asked Mason, looking over at Keith Davis.

  Keith was silent for a long moment. “I would suggest they build tunnels like we are,” replied Keith, finally. “However, I wouldn’t even mess with building actual quarters. Just build tunnels covered with enough lunar soil to provide protection, add environmental systems, and then fill them full of cots and people.”

  “Can they do that?” asked Drake, knowing the living conditions would be terrible and probably unsanitary.

  “If we want to save people I don’t think we have any choice.”

  “We will need to assign all the cargo ships we have modified for carrying people to hauling them from Holbrook to Luna City,” Mason added. “Ho
w many can we move per day?”

  Drake was silent for a moment as he ran some numbers on the small computer in front of him. “If we’re just going from Holbrook to the Moon we can increase the number of passengers substantially. Our biggest problem is shuttles; currently we have thirty-two available to us. If we schedule shuttle launches around the clock and do minimal maintenance on them we can still only move about two thousand people per day.”

  “I don’t want to cut back on shuttle maintenance,” spoke Mason, shaking his head. “The only place we can build a shuttle is here and that would take a while. We can’t afford to lose one.”

  “Then let me make another suggestion,” Ethan Hall said as he looked up from where he had been doing some calculations. “I can modify four of our cargo ships to safely land on Earth. We will have to make some modifications to the engines and add airfoils for stability for atmospheric flight, but it can be done.”

  “How long?” Mason asked, his eyes focusing on Ethan. He knew that, with the rapidly changing conditions on Earth, each day was precious for rescuing survivors.

  “Two weeks for each one,” Ethan responded. “We can move six hundred people on each up to Holbrook and probably make two trips per day.”

  “That would be four thousand eight hundred people, and the rest can be done by the shuttles,” said Drake, nodding his head in approval. “That just might work.”

  “It will depend on how quickly new tunnels can be built on the Moon,” Keith pointed out. “We can probably move people faster than they can build tunnels. Don’t forget they will need additional supplies, particularly food.”

  “Let’s do it,” Mason said, standing up. “I’m going to speak with Mayor Silas and get this effort started. He can furnish us with a daily report on how many survivors they can take, and then we just have to make sure it happens.” Then Mason looked back over at Keith. “I think the next two tunnels we build need to be set up like massive barracks. Cots, a few lockers, and restroom facilities. With what’s happening on Earth we don’t have the time to do things right. Also, get with Lori and see what will have to be done for life support for the tunnels if we put even more people in them.”