by Needles, Dan
He heard another portal open. Steve turned.
Another Syzygy had appeared. Reverting to a fluid form, it shot toward him.
He fired just in time.
Another portal opened to his left, then another to his right. He twisted left and fired. Striking the first Syzygy down, he lunged aside and turned.
The other Syzygy struck him from the side. It knocked him down, but he rolled to his feet. Two Syzygies stood before him. He turned to run. Three others were behind him. He spun in a circle and counted five, no, six. He was surrounded.
One of them took a step forward, and he fired again.
It easily stepped aside as another Syzygy pushed him from behind. He fell to the floor, and the impact knocked the phaser out of his hand. It skittered across the neon green grid floor, beyond the circle. He looked up. A cold, green gaze bored into him. He kicked and rolled to his feet and spun around. They all kept their distance; the circle did not move. What were they waiting for?
All at once, they converged on him. He jumped forward, trying to dive between two of them, but an elbow caught him between the shoulder blades, knocking him down.
A whine of an opening portal sounded to his left, followed by a bark. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Charlie attack one of the Syzygies. They disappeared through the portal. More portals opened, and more Charlie’s emerged. The other Syzygies turned, assessing the new threat. He scrambled to his feet.
They did not all turn. One Syzygy remained, facing him. It transfixed him with its green eyes. Turning to fluid, it charged.
He jumped aside.
Shinny black tentacles of fluid shot out of Syzygy. Three managed to wrap themselves around his arm.
As he fell to the ground, they pierced his arm and burrowed their way into his skin. Rolling on the ground, he shook one loose. Grabbing another, he yanked it out of his skin. He stood. The third broke off and disappeared beneath his skin, forming a welt. The welt wormed its way up his arm toward his shoulder. His fingers went numb as his arm withered, turning first purple then black. As his fingers dissolved into black powder, pain overcame his adrenaline and he dropped to his knees. He heard a bark.
Turning, he saw Charlie jumping toward him. He held up his arm.
Liquefying into a crimson fluid, Charlie flowed through the holes on his arm. His arm shifted toward purple as his skin bulged. His fingers regrew and the bulge raced up his arm toward the welt at his shoulder. Splotches of pink appeared and the welt disappeared. Within a matter of seconds, it was over.
Steve was once again alone in the room except for a single copy of Charlie. The dog barked and jumped on his leg.
Picking up Charlie, he stood and stared at the blue lattice. It was clean. No red anywhere. Syzygy was dead.
Steve rubbed the scruff of the dog’s neck. “I guess you are man’s best friend, huh?”
Charlie barked.
“Jan, send a page to Vinnie Russo.”
56
Steve followed Vinnie through an open portal and entered Houston Warscape. They stood on a glass platform, floating above the map of Southeast Asia. The map was littered with flashing lights. The President and one of his advisors stood next to them. They were addressing a small crowd that Steve recognized as the Joint Chiefs.
“Glad you could make it,” the President said, shaking Vinnie’s hand.
“Sorry we were detained.”
The President glanced at Steve.
“Who’s this?”
“The President of Nexus Corporation. He’s here in case Syzygy rears his head again.”
The President nodded. Through the glass platform beneath their feet, lights flashed on the map as the war continued. He turned toward the crowd.
“You’re probably wondering why I’ve pulled you all away from your work at this critical time. Many of you have questioned I2 Corp, given recent events. I called you here to put your fears to rest. Before we begin, let me welcome Troy White, the new CINCPAC,” he said, nodding toward the advisor next to him. “Let me also introduce Vinnie Russo, the new Commander of I2 Corp, and Steve Donovan, CEO of Nexus Corporation. Troy will brief you on the current situation.”
Troy stepped forward and pointed a red laser pointer down through the glass platform. It struck a cluster of green lights on the map.
“As you can see, the U.S. battle group’s surviving ships remain in open formation several miles apart from one another.”
He moved the beam of light up and encircled a group of islands in red. “Our forces are veering southeast, away from the Paracel Islands and away from the PLA, creating distance between it and the PLA’s land forces on the Paracel Islands.”
Moving the pointer to a cluster of red lights adjacent to the green lights, Troy continued.
“The PLA’s forces have split into two groups. The first group consists of twenty or more Chinese Romeo and Ming class subs. They are shadowing the U.S battle group, harrying them with torpedoes and missiles, but the action from the subs is light. Given the Chinese PLA follows the old Soviet model, firing everything all at once, we believe their subs are spent. They outfitted these antiquated subs with new long-range missiles. The sheer vibration and force produced by these missiles shattered their offensive capability. We believe the subs are a decoy to draw our attention away from the second group.
Troy then moved the pointer down the map to a cluster of red lights just above the Spratly islands. “This second group consists of Varyag and its PLA ship escorts. They are heading south toward the Spratlys. As you can see, they are only two hours out.”
One of the Joint Chiefs spoke up. “I don’t get it. Why escort a non-operational aircraft carrier?”
“They’re not using Varyag as an aircraft carrier. They’re using it as an armored supply ship, traveling at over twenty-five knots. We think their objective all along was to gain a foothold in the Spratlys, probably at Subi or Mischievous Reef. Once they get in there, it will be nearly impossible to get them out. They will then have access to one of the world’s richest oil reserves and have a stranglehold on two of the busiest shipping lanes in the world. Our objective here will be to sink Varyag before they get there.” Troy stepped back and Vinnie stepped forward.
“Today you will witness first hand through VR the awesome and destructive power of Warscape and participate in the launching of our first and final counter strike in this war.”
Several portals opened to their left and twenty analysts stepped onto the floating platform.
“Each of these analysts will control a missile to be launched against the PLA battle group. Anyone who wants to ride shotgun remotely through VR has an opportunity to do that now.”
Vinnie turned and smiled at Steve. “Mr. Donovan and I will demonstrate with the first missile.”
“What?”
Vinnie flashed him an it will all be okay look. “Warscape, expand region 417.”
The floating platform and the other men disappeared. Vinnie and Steve sailed down closer to the map. The red blips were now distinguishable and clearly labeled. Twelve in all, each blip represented one ship in the Chinese battle group.
“Computer, how long until the launch?” Vinnie asked.
“Thirty-four seconds,” the computer responded.
Vinnie twisted to face Steve. “Have you ever been in combat before?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head.
Vinnie smiled. “I was infantry in the first China War, but naval combat is nothing like land warfare. The ocean has no terrain, nothing to hide behind, only a flat blue plain of water, and missiles are now more powerful than ever. If you hit your target, you sink it. Thus, the name of the game is ‘the first side to attack effectively wins’.”
Steve nodded, feigning understanding.
“It’s not as simple as it sounds. Sometimes it’s hard to be effective. That was the PLA’s mistake here. The farther you are from your target, the less likely you are to hit it. Well, at least for them.”
“What do y
ou mean?”
A disembodied voice filled the expanse. “Fifteen seconds. 417-3, prepare for insertion. Your identity will be trident missile 417-3 from U.S.S. California nuclear submarine. Your target is the Kuznetsov-class aircraft carrier Varyag.”
Vinnie smiled. “Do you know why aircraft carriers are effective?”
“The planes, of course.”
Vinnie nodded. “Do you know why planes are effective?”
“Because they can break things.” He was growing weary of the game of twenty questions.
“True. They project power, but why do they do it better than a missile?”
He shrugged his shoulders as the environment around them started to shift. The map beneath them blurred. The air around them brightened from dark to light blue.
“A plane can adapt, make visual confirmation of a target, or be recalled. In other words, humans completely control the actions of planes. We’re about to use VR to do the same thing for a missile. Hang on. You’re just a passenger. Live combat can be intense, but it’s addictive. I promise.”
Together they were sucked into the perspective of a missile. Steve caught his breath and felt queasy. His body was replaced by a missile. The sea below raced by at horrific speeds. His vision was a blur. He could not turn his head or move at all. Vinnie controlled his perspective.
“Relax. Enjoy yourself,” Vinnie’s disembodied voice said.
His perspective lifted as Vinnie scanned the horizon. They were flying forward, hovering what felt like inches above the water and traveling at over fourteen hundred miles an hour. The sun was high in the sky. On the horizon, superimposed over the scene, were thin red lines and a few labels. “What are those?” he asked.
“Those mark the location of Varyag and the other PLA warships. You can’t see the actual ships yet because they’re over the horizon, but from the marking, it appears they’re still moving forward in a closed formation, keeping their ships only a few miles apart from each other. That was not a very bright move for them. If they don’t pick us up soon on their radar, they’ll have no chance against us.”
“What do you mean us?”
Steve’s view shifted left to right, following Vinnie’s gaze. Green signatures flanked them on both sides.
“Each of those marks the location of another one of our missiles.” Their gaze returned forward to the PLA battle group. “Hang on. I’m going to take a peek up top.”
“What?”
Instantly, they were looking through the camera lens of a Black Hawk, a miniature, high altitude unmanned aircraft that flew over the PLA battle group.
He felt queasy again from the quick change in perspective. Shaking off the feeling, he surveyed the situation. Beneath them, the Chinese battle group continued to steam forward. It looked as if they had not detected the missiles yet, which were flying beneath their radar. The Chinese also either had not found, or did not care, about the two-dozen miniature remote aircraft buzzing around in the air and the score of sea craft circling in the sea.
“Warscape, zoom in on the PLA battle group,” Vinnie said.
The perspective expanded and he could see the twelve Chinese ships clearly.
“Short-range offensive weapons overlay.”
Instantly, red shadows swept out from the PLA ships, fading into pink as they radiated out. “Those red shadows show the range and coverage of each ship’s weapons system. If our missile finds its way into the dark red areas, we’ll likely be shot down by the PLA’s defenses.
“What defenses are those?”
“Small weapons fire mostly. The deeper the red, the stronger their defenses are.”
Forgetting his lack of control, Steve attempted to nod. He found he was still just an observer, paralyzed. He wasn’t enjoying this.
“Warscape, rotate perspective.”
The perspective shifted. It rotated above and around the PLA battle group and followed the circular path of the Black Hawk. Everywhere there was red to deep red.
“PLA’s weapon coverage is good, but …”
Steve saw that two of the ships in the Chinese battle group were shifting positions. A large section of ocean on the right flank of the battle group was clear, not even a hint of pink.
“Got ya! Warscape, broadcast to analysts in sector 417: This is 417-3. Chinese battle group has a hole on their right flank. I’m changing my course of insertion.”
“Warscape, change perspective forward.”
Again, they were sucked into the perspective of the missile. He felt exceptionally queasy now. The missile veered right. He watched the red signatures of the Chinese vessels. They circled around until the missile was almost parallel to the gap in the Chinese defenses. Then they angled in. “Warscape, broadcast 417: 417-3 starting approach.”
Steve looked up and realized some new gauges had appeared in the periphery of his vision. One indicated they were twenty miles out.
The ships first appeared as dots on the horizon, overlaid by the red signatures. These dots rose and expanded, slowly materializing into ships. Smoke billowed around some of the ships.
“Did we hit them?”
“No. That’s from their countermeasures, small arms fire used to try to knock us down. Don’t worry, it’s hard to hit something traveling at over twice the speed of sound.”
Suddenly the missile jerked left and then righted itself.
“Sorry. It wasn’t me. The missile detected something and corrected its course. It may get a bit more bumpy,” Vinnie warned.
A ship loomed straight ahead. He could barely make it out through the billows of smoke. It grew rapidly in size. The missile jerked violently up and down and left and right. His world became a chaotic jumble of flashing lights, thick smoke, and ocean spray as everything fell apart around him. In a moment, the ship filled his vision. He unconsciously yelled as they closed in. Suddenly the missile jerked up, hopping over the ship’s deck. Steve caught a blur of smoke, people, and metal. Then the ship was behind them. His stomach lurched as the missile dove down to hover just a few feet above the water once again. “Did we miss it?”
“It wasn’t our target. This is.”
He could see Varyag three miles ahead. Nine seconds later, the missile slammed into the rear quarter of the aircraft carrier, ripping a sixty-foot hole into its side. Thick black smoke rose from the sinking ship as another missile struck just behind the first missile, breaking Varyag into two.
They reappeared in Warscape on the floating platform. Through the glass floor Steve saw a constellation of missiles closing in on the PLA’s battle group.
“So what did you think?” Vinnie asked.
Steve looked up to meet Vinnie’s gaze. “It reminds me of the rides I used to take with Ron.”
Vinnie looked at the map and frowned. “Looks like it’s our last.”
Below them on the map, one by one, the red blips disappeared as missile after missile cut down the Chinese convoy. Within two minutes not a single PLA vessel remained.
Coda
Jan, restore my old virtual office.” The image before him wavered and then faded. High ceilings, dark oak floors, and bay windows replaced the crisscross of neon green lines and open expanse. Everything was as he remembered at the Gold Coast Bed n’ Breakfast.
The Franklin stove animated the room with flickering shadows and the snap of burning wood. The scent of fresh-cut pine filled the air. His gaze fell upon his favorite chair. It had been a long time.
Steve sat down and flicked off his slippers. He slid his hand along the red velvet arm, stopping at its polished oak trim, worn from eons of use.
Just over a year had elapsed since he last sat here. Tamara and Brooke had been with him then. His gaze drifted to the bay windows. Outside, cold fingers of fog stroked the tips of the pine forest. He could make out the trail that Brooke ran down to get to the beach. In his mind, he heard her laughter again and saw Tamara chasing after her, yelling Brooke’s name over the cry of seagulls. The memory was bittersweet.
B
arking and wagging his tail, Charlie bounded in from the kitchen. Jumping into his lap, Charlie pressed forward to lick Steve’s face.
“Stop.” He smiled weakly and pushed Charlie down. The dog sat in his lap, staring up at him with anxious eyes.
“Charlie, open a window to Vinnie Russo’s promotion.”
Charlie barked and jumped out of his lap. A three-by-five-foot cherry wood frame materialized in front of Steve. Through the paging window, he saw the President standing behind a podium with a row of dignitaries flanking either side. Before the podium, a wall of reporters shouted questions. The President stepped aside and Vinnie came to the microphone. He raised his hands and the crowd settled down.
“It is with mixed emotions that I accept the role as Commander and Chief of the I2 Corp. My predecessor, Edward T. Davis gave his life, along with so many others, to defend our country and our way of life. I would like us to bow our heads in a moment of silence in remembrance of these brave men and women. My friends …”
My friends. The words reverberated in Steve’s mind. That was Ron’s saying. The cadence and tone were exactly the same.
He remembered meeting Vinnie in the flesh at the crime scene. Had he ever seen Ron in the flesh? Searching his memory, he came up blank. Steve only knew Ron’s alias.
The last image of Ron returned to him; they had been in the dinosaur exhibit. Ron had told him something. Ron had repeated back Steve’s words. The words Steve had told him after the hackers had trashed the Nexus lobby: “An undetected virus is like a spy in an organization; once accepted as one of the fold, you cannot find him without making everyone a suspect.”
He juxtaposed two memories—his recent ride with Vinnie in Warscape and his ride with Ron through the asteroid belt. He shook his head. Their personalities seemed too far apart. Or were they? They were both cocky, war vets, and technophobic. How could he be sure?