The Manhattan Incident

by Raymond Poincelot

  “You are given complete authorization per GQ-2 to take on the enemy in your quadrants as soon as they are in range. I will instruct the civilian populace to go to Alert level one. Should GAF’s defensive effort fail, I will issue GQ-3 to the command structure for each country’s armed forces under their control. This message is from General Straub. Good luck.” “Master Technical Sergeant, send out my message and the order for GQ-2. I’ll be in my office. Call me if anything changes” “Yes, Sir. I’ll send it out right now.”

  Munger had hoped that the order would not be given for Alert level one. That order meant all civilians, except for able-bodied males, would receive a message to seek shelter. Stage two would mean all able-bodied men don gas masks and retrieve assault weapons from their local armory and assist their country’s ground troops in any way they could. Munger prayed that stage two would not be issued, as that meant humanity was in its last ditch effort to survive. These actions were all well-planned as drills took place yearly and a civilian cadre from those on country levels down to neighborhood wardens were trained and drilled to facilitate the entire operation. There was enough time before the aliens arrived for Alert level one to be accomplished.

  General Straub sat at his desk. He poured himself a small scotch and took it down in one swallow. Some ten minutes later, his P-Com ringtone indicated a call from Earth First Council Chair, Bariska Minkov. “General Straub here, Chair Minkov.” “General, what is your assessment of the threat level? It looks like you got all the bastards out around Mars, but we failed near the moon. Can we stop them?” “Chair Minkov, while I hope so, my gut tells me otherwise. If anything, I think we got them mad. I expect that they’ll hit us hard. The timing is the problem, although if they are pissed off and head straight for us, it should be soon, likely in three days. Let’s just hope for the best.” “General, we are counting on you. Less than best is not an option. We will talk later.” General Straub rang President Rushmore’s private line. He owed him an assessment. Their conversation was similar to the one he just had with Minkov. “Are you in deep shelter, now, Mr. President?” “Yes, I am. Thank you for your concern. Hopefully, there will be something to come back to when this is over. We are counting on you, General. God bless until we talk again.”

  President Rushmore was in the presidential bunker and actively engaged with the United States troops directly under his command, mobilizing then in case GQ-3 was issued by General Straub. The United States armed forces primary function was to protect civilian populations, and their less publicized mission, to maintain order and to prevent riots and looting. There were always those who would seize the moment for their own dark purpose. It was up to the GAF troops to take the fight to the aliens. If they failed, the troops in reserve held by each country would have to make the last ditch effort to save humanity from the aliens and perhaps from themselves.

  Master Technical Sergeant picked up the P-Com and tapped in the coded entry for the direct line to General Straub, “General, I was thinking, too bad we didn’t put lead shielding on our AIDAWs such that no radiation signature could be detected. That gave me an idea. What if we send instructions to those AIDAWs between Earth and the moon to move and conceal themselves within a cluster of non-nuclear AIDAWs? There is a manual over-ride that we can use. All we need to do is plot the course of the alien ships and pick a spot where they’ll go by existing AIDAW mine fields. We should be able to take out some ships before the aliens catch on.”

  “Put your team on it right away. We have some time before the ships get close. Can we control the whole operation from here, including the detonation signal?” “Yes, Sir; even if we are on the backside of Earth when they hit the mine field, we can bounce the signal from satellite to satellite like a daisy chain until we get to the line of sight. We can use the orbital space telescope to follow progress of their fleet.” “Is there a downside?” “Only one, Sir. If they deviate from a straight line approach, they could bypass the mines. We could set up more than one cluster in various planes to reduce the risk that they go by too far away to be within blast radius. We could also lull the aliens into a false sense of security. AIDAWs not able to get into mine clusters in time will be instructed to pull back out of range. Any non-nuclear AIDAW mines can be instructed to ignore the passing ships. The aliens will think we have no defensive capability along their path, so their guard will be down. Once they reach the trap, we’ll spring it.” “OK, put all your resources into the effort. Set up three clusters along a projected straight line. I think they will take the most direct route here. Keep me updated. Good work, Munger.”

  “General wait one second, I have incoming radio traffic from Space Station Moon Watch. Commander Mitch Janickson is asking for you personally.” “Tell him I’m on my way to TACS.” A few minutes later General Straub arrived at TACS. “Commander Janickson, General Straub here. What do you have to report?” “Sir, our HD radar is tracking the alien armada emerging from the moon’s dark side. It’s not good. We count 60 Wedgie-type vessels. If they split up, we’ll have 240 to deal with. At most we have two dozen missiles armed with nuclear warheads and a few weapons platforms nearby on their projected path. According to our computer simulation, at best we can only take out 15% of their fleet and we are guaranteed to be destroyed in the process. That simulation assumes that their laser weaponry and targeting capabilities haven’t improved since their last time here. For the worst case scenario, the program estimated that there is a 50% probability that all our outgoing missiles will be destroyed by concentrated laser fire before reaching detonation range.”

  “Commander, I am truly sorry to hear this. Do your best. We are counting on you to stop as many Wedgies as possible. Your families will be taken care of, assuming any of us survive.”

  “General, there is another way. I have discussed it with the troops here and it is unanimous. We are all going to die, as only a few hits by their lasers will cause an unstoppable breach of the station. So, we have an alternative. Hear me out. We aren’t going to fire our missiles. We’ll appear to be an unarmed space station. The aliens will, of course, come in for an easy kill. At the first laser fire, or when they are near enough, we can detonate all the missile warheads with a simple press of a button. We can reprogram the CPU to detonate all of them after the two keys are turned to the on position. Between the blast wave and the nuclear EMP, we will have likely destroyed or crippled more than 20% of their fleet.”

  “My God, Commander. Is there no other way? I cannot order you to do this.” “General, there is no other way. Death will be instantaneous and preferable to getting sucked dry by the vacuum of space. We hope we buy your inner defenses a better chance. Thank you, General Straub; it has been a pleasure serving under you. May God bless all our souls.” “Commander, can you put me on speaker to the entire crew?” “You already are, Sir.” “I, General Tyler Straub, personally thank you, Commander, and your men for your valiant and supreme sacrifice. All of Earth will thank you, I’m sure, in times to come. Your bravery and courage in the face of the enemy will never be forgotten as long as humanity survives. I promise that your families will be well taken care of. May God bless all of you. Over and out.” General Straub wiped away the tear trickling down his face. Munger pretended to not notice.

  “Sir, I have views of the observation satellite’s telescope on the space station. Glare dampers are engaged and will kick in when the blast occurs. We have about 15 minutes before the fleet gets within their destructive radius.” General Straub turned and said, “Private Liang, go to the liquor stores and retrieve enough scotch and glasses such that we all can have a shot in honor of our brave men and women about to die. Here, take this note so they won’t give you any shit. Hurry back, but don’t drop anything.” “Yes, Sir; I’m on my way.” Ten minutes later, Private Tao Liang returned with a small, wheeled cart. “Everyone here, take a glass and pour a shot. That’s an order, even if you don’t drink alcohol. Hold your glass until I give the toast.” “Sir, the alien fleet is closing in
on the Station now,” said Munger. All eyes went to the monitor. Suddenly the screen started to go bright white, but quickly diminished to gray. “General Straub raised his glass, as did everyone in the room. “I offer a toast to the brave troops, men and women, in Space Station Moon Watch. May their sacrifice not be in vain. May we always remember their bravery in the face of death. And may we honor them by taking out the rest of the bastards on their way here.” There was a chorus of “Hear, hear” as all, to the last person, downed their shot.

  All eyes returned to the screen mounted near the ceiling. There were definitely fewer white blips showing. Munger’s fingers flew over the keyboard. A few minutes later, he said “We are down to 46! A 24% percent kill. They did not die in vain! Wait, some of the blips aren’t moving. Make that 43.” Three were visible on the screen as stationary white dots left behind as the others moved ever closer to Earth. They began to blink out, one by one. General Straub watched and had a good guess what was happening. “They are self-destructing. The aliens don’t want us to capture a ship. They are afraid we’ll reverse engineer it. Guess our new tech has them worried.” ”Sir, one blip remains. Maybe the nuclear EMP wiped out their self-destruct system or maybe the entire crew.”

  General Straub watched as the blip remained and the other ships moved further and further away. A thought occurred to him. “If we make sure none of their ships survive to flee back to their wormhole and destroy the crippled ship on the fly-back, we can get to that ship. It is possible that the Station crew bought us much more than they’ll ever know. Hope grew, but the General knew the odds were stiff against their success. Still, one needed hope to go on.

  Munger suddenly spoke again. “Sir, the ships are taking evasive action around our weapons platforms. It is unlikely any kills will result.” “Hmm.” said General Straub. They are really pissed off. They aren’t wasting time on the little stuff. They’re mad and want to take us out. Let’s hope our little surprise makes them even madder.” Munger put up the computer plot on the big screen. “This is in real time. The green dots are non-nuclear AIDAWs pseudo-asteroid clumps with the hidden nuclear AIDAWs highlighted as red dots. The alien ships are the mini-white arrows moving across the screen. Hold on, I’m going to switch to holographic projection, as we really need to see this in all three dimensions.” The holograph suddenly appeared in the air near the screen. Everyone watched with agonizing anticipation. The line of arrows raised a little to fly above the plane of the first asteroid clump. As it did so, it came closer to a second clump on a 45 degree angle above it. General Straub smiled. “Looks like the ships are flying through a pincer. Munger, wait until half are through the pincer point, then detonate. If they suddenly change direction, blow it immediately.” Munger sat with his finger poised above the Y key. One press, and the signal to the AIDAWs was, Yes, do it. Suddenly the ships started to move to the left. Maybe they spotted the upper asteroid clump, or maybe picked up some stray radiation, or perhaps it was just a random evasive maneuver. Munger hit the Y key. The holograph blazed white and then disappeared. Munger switched back to the screen above. There were fewer dots. “A few minutes later, he said, “We’re down to 39, with seven not moving. One by one, all seven blinked out. The one dot back near the moon still showed. Straub’s hopes rose ever so slightly. He had another little surprise up his sleeve.

  Later that day in his office, General Straub thought to himself, General Douglas and his group had come a long way in their development of the old Warthog and F-22. Their armor was greatly improved from what was learned from the only alien fighter craft captured in Vermont some years ago. New technologies using nanotech composites over doped titanium alloys allowed for reduced weight and special coatings reflected lasers to some degree. Air survivability was much better as was their enhanced weaponry using armor-penetrating projectiles with uranium slugs fired from cannons and machine guns. Their missiles were now highly effective at armor penetration, using uranium slugs and shaped charges. Their lasers were every bit as good as those the aliens had employed and the IT group had created a vastly superior targeting program. Even better was their numerical superiority. The aliens were down to 32 crafts, but the stockpiles of the Warthog-OS and F-22EV outnumbered the alien craft several fold. Yes, the aliens would meet a firestorm of destruction in the uppermost reaches of our atmosphere where the F-22EVD was right at home. The original prototype had been the F-22EV, where the EV stood for Extreme Version. It was now the Extreme Version Destroyer. The inside joke with the pilots was the EVD really stood for Extraterrestrial Vehicle Destroyer. Should any get past this line of defense, the Warthog-OS would mop them up. It had become an almost indestructible craft in the lower reaches of the atmosphere. It had become affectionately named the Douglas Avenger by its pilots. The Douglas here referred to the General Douglas, the general in charge of weaponry. It did not reference the old World War II aircraft company, McDonnell Douglas and their Douglas Avenger, a WWII torpedo bomber. It was like comparing the model T car to a M1A2 Abrams main battle tank.

  General Straub was startled from his reverie by a P-Com communication from Munger. “Sir, the alien armada has not split into battle groups.” “They don’t seem to be following their past invasion program,” said the General. Munger spoke up. “Sir, I have projected their paths, differing speeds, and assuming no changes, they will hit only the United States, and not Russia, China, India, the United Kingdom, France or Germany like last time.” “Munger, can you estimate their time of arrival?” “Yes, Sir. Based on their speed, the arrival will be in about two days. Sir, it appears that their timing will bring the fleet to the eastern seaboard of the U.S. in the night hours.” “They must think we are more vulnerable at night, but we aren’t,” said the General. “Update all the GAF commanders worldwide with the latest information. Make sure their air defense forces remain on full alert and in place to meet their arrival, should their course change. Have the computer continually update their arrival coordinates and feed them to the Commanders. Issue my orders to have the Warthogs take over from the F-22EVDs to finish any vessel that makes it to 5,000 feet. Make sure the advanced ground lasers, rail guns and particle beams are ready to mop up any vessels that get past our air defenses.” “Sir, should I initiate the civilian Alert Level 2?” “Yes, do so, just for the United States to be on the safe side. Unless the aliens have any surprises of their own, it will be an unnecessary move. You never know, though.”

  Over the next few days, all civilians not in the Reserves or Home Guard took shelter in deep underground structures that were as self-sustaining and protected from chemical or biological attack as best the current technology could provide. Gas masks were provided in the event of a breach. Food would last for a few weeks. The National Guards suited up in full armor and biological gear just as good as those worn by the GAF troops. They took their stations around the major cities to protect against ground assault by the aliens. Able-bodied civilians claimed their gas mask and assault weapons from their local armory. They did not have armor, but acted like a guerrilla force hiding in buildings and generally protected areas. They would harass any aliens that made it past the National Guard. GAF infantry stayed around the military bases and air fields to protect them as best as possible. Units were available to deploy immediately at the first hint of an alien ship actually landing anywhere.

  Around midnight the first waves of alien vessels approached the night side of Earth. Munger’s holographic projection synced with the computer which fed continually updated radar signatures while the holographic display highlighted their approach. The vessels carefully used evasive maneuvers to avoid weapon platforms in the orbital protective layer. At first they misjudged the firing range of the platforms and lost a few vessels. They learned quickly to avoid that mistake. General Douglas watched behind General Straub. “Damn,” he said. “We should have increased their numbers and enhanced their firing ranges.” Still, the weaponry whittled their numbers down 29. General Straub turned and said, “Still, not bad for what
we have up there in place. It makes the odds even better for our pilots.” Munger studied the holograph. “Sir, they are stopping at the upper reaches of our atmosphere.” What are they up to, thought the General, as he popped a few more pills that the doctor assured him would keep him fully awake and highly alert. If I were them, I would be scoping out the defenses and looking for weak spots. Hopefully, we don’t have any.

  Munger was studying the images taken by orbiting telescopes. They all appeared to be the same wedgie types seen during the last invasion, except for one anomaly. The fleet approaching North America with its 29 vessels seemed different somehow. Munger increased the telescopic resolution and studied the images. Two stood out as different in the center of the pack, as if they were being protected. One was bigger by about 50% and the other had an elongated cylindrical shape. He immediately pointed this imagery out to the General. General Straub felt uneasy. His gut told him different and protected meant bad. Perhaps their cargo was another nasty biological weapon or huge nuclear planet buster. He told Munger to alert the defensive fleet in North America to be on the lookout for these unusual crafts and to target them specifically at all costs. Those ships must not survive, he thought.

  Suddenly the fleet began movement. Munger studied the images and the computer data being generated. “Sir, the fleet has moved to a position about 150 miles from our eastern coastline, but too high yet for our F22EVs. Their targets are still the same as projected earlier. Sir, one craft is deviating from the projected pathways. It is departing from the fleet approaching North America. Sir, it is the elongated one and it is dropping at a fast rate straight down to the Atlantic Ocean.” General Straub’s first thought was that it must have been damaged by one of our weapon actions along the way. “Munger, is it in free fall?” “Sir, no, it is rapid, but it is a controlled descent.” “Shit, we have been blindsided. GAF’s defensive strategy is based entirely on aerial and ground assaults based on the initial invasion by the aliens. The bastards have a submersible, a space craft with water maneuverability, a freaking submarine. GAF has no direct command line over subs. It was left to nations to maintain and develop their submarine fleet. Keep tracking the vessel and give me the exact coordinates where it will hit. Put me through to President Rushmore on the hotline now!”