Erebus

by R K MacPherson

Suspicion clouded Murad’s face, but he crossed his arms and leaned against the bulkhead. “Only two.”

  “How long were you at Travis?” Dash asked.

  Murad glanced at his watch, then screwed up his face as he counted. “Two weeks.”

  “Okay,” Dash said. “At Travis, you always saw the same people, didn’t you? The same cooks, the same drivers.”

  “We didn’t see anyone. We were ordered to stay in our little tent city. We ate military food there, in the brown plastic pouches, but until McConnell came back, we hadn’t seen anyone new since they dropped us off.”

  “Because you were being quarantined.”

  “What?” Murad leaned closer. “Why would they quarantine us?”

  “To minimize the chances of illness. If you’re contagious, you can’t fly.”

  Murad shook his head. “Anyone could get sick when they travel. Doesn’t mean we can’t participate in the project.”

  “It would if they were putting everyone into an enclosed space. McConnell wasn’t lying last night. Watch, I’ll show you.” Dash pushed past Murad and looked for the cockpit. He spotted the loadmaster. “Excuse me, um, lieutenant?”

  The loadmaster saw him and winced. “I’m a technical sergeant, sir. You can call me sergeant or Summers.”

  “Sorry, sergeant.” Dash appeared contrite. “How much longer until we land in Hawaii?”

  “We passed north of Oahu several hours ago, actually.” Summers glanced at her watch. “We should be touching down in about twenty minutes.”

  Passing north meant Hawaii wasn’t their destination after all. Dash ran through possible alternatives, of which there were few. He remembered several bases on Oahu, but only the big island had other military airfields. He took a shot in the dark.

  “At Midway?”

  Summers nodded. “That’s right. Anything else, sir? I need to prepare for landing.”

  “Thanks so much.” Dash smiled and turned around. Murad’s frown told him the imam understood the implication.

  While the State of Hawaii was built up of thousands of islands, only the main ones were inhabited. Midway Atoll, at the very end of the chain, wasn’t inhabited. It was an important airfield during World War Two but fallen into disuse after that. The Navy still had control over it, but now it was used as an emergency runway for planes that couldn’t manage a landing in Hawaii.

  Small and abandoned, it would never need sustainable living teams, nor were there indigenous cultures to support.

  “Why lie to us?” Murad asked.

  “There’s a bigger danger than you know,” Dash said. “This project is a cover for a huge undertaking. I think they’re taking you to Midway to transport you somewhere safe. I think you’re the modern inhabitants of Prophet Noha’s ark.”

  “Ṣallā Allāhu ʿalayhi wa-sallam ,” Murad muttered. Peace and blessings be upon him.

  “Indeed.” Dash nodded. “My brother discovered the Olympus Initiative and ships they’ve built. It’s a perfect mix to rebuild a world after a catastrophe. Doctors, educators, construction types, farmers, and more, all packed into self-contained environments with supplies to ride out the crisis. Just who you’d need.”

  “That can’t be,” Murad said. “I’m an imam, but before that I was a felon! Why would they pick me?”

  “You’re a community leader, you’re able to do difficult work, you understand how to cope with minimal privacy and freedom—you’re tailor-made for this task.”

  Murad’s eyes narrowed. “So why are you here?”

  “My brother discovered the conspiracy and tried to warn me about it. Yifei and I dug up the rest on our own. An asteroid is on its way and the Navy is going to send ships to stop it.” Dash tapped Murad’s chest. “You’re the backup plan. Lock you and the others in a safe place underground to ride out the impact, then let you out to start over.”

  “So?” Murad pressed him.

  “My brother was killed for this information. They killed my father when I wouldn’t give them what they wanted. I’ve nearly died several times in the last three days. I want to know why.” Dash sniffed. “I need to tell the world why.”

  Surprise splashed across Murad’s face. “You’re here for the story?”

  Dash’s eyes flashed. “I’m here to tell the story.”

  The humid tropic air rushed into the Globemaster as the ramp lowered. The pilot came over the speakers and announced that as soon as the plane came to a halt, passengers could disembark. He gave some other instructions about which team assembled where, but Dash didn’t pay that much attention. His eyes focused on McConnell and Hong, both of whom glanced back at him.

  Dash didn’t know much about Midway Island but figured the number of hiding places he could access would be somewhere between zero and one.

  But closer to zero.

  “We need to vanish as soon as we can,” Dash whispered into Yifei’s ear. “McConnell noticed us last night.”

  Yifei’s eyes hardened. “We have enough information. We need to break the story.”

  “Yeah. Let’s keep our eyes out for anywhere with internet access.”

  Dash pulled his phone out, but his shoulders slumped as it showed no signal bars. “Well, it was worth a shot.”

  The aircraft lurched as it stopped and everyone in the cabin burst into applause. Several people whooped and cheered. Murad gave a heartfelt “Allahu ackbar!”

  Excited, people hurried to unbuckle and get off the aircraft. Dash gave several people a chance to fill the aisles, then made his move. He tapped Yifei on the shoulder and the two cut into the line and hurried down the cargo ramp. Dash glanced around, and his jaw dropped. This was not what he expected.

  Midway Island looked like a war zone.

  The sapphire waters of the Pacific Ocean glistened all around but couldn’t hold his attention. Warships ringed the atoll, roughly a mile offshore. Dash couldn’t identify warships by specific class, but he recognized guided-missile destroyers and cruisers, as well as an aircraft carrier. Two other ships that looked like aircraft carriers, yet had squatter, more rounded profiles, bristled with helicopters on their decks. Smaller boats, painted the same battleship gray but armed with machine gun turrets, patrolled the shoreline perimeter.

  Dash first thought they were there to invade the atoll, but realized they were protecting it.

  Midway Island was made up two main islands, Sand and Eastern islands, as well as Spit Island and the reef that ringed them. As Dash turned east, he saw the Sand Island bustled with activity and temporary buildings. Past them he saw another pair of aircraft carriers, painted white instead of battleship gray, only each had the same cylinder on the stern that Rasul’s pictures showed.

  “My God,” he breathed. “It’s true.”

  The C-17 had come to a halt in front of the hangar and fueling facilities just off the runway. Behind the hangars, however, was a new, temporary control tower, and dozens of tents like the Initiative members had slept in at Travis.

  The rest of the people had disembarked and stood in small, confused clusters. This wasn’t the humanitarian mission they were recruited for. Yifei led them into the midst of the largest group, where they strained to see ahead.

  McConnell’s voice got everyone’s attention. “Good morning, again, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Midway!”

  His megaphone broadcast his chuckle, but no one else laughed.

  “Ahem. I’m sure you all have many questions. For now, we need to clear the flight line, so the airplane can refuel and get back in the air before the next one arrives.” McConnell pointed at a group of cargo trucks. “We’re going to ride those, one team at a time, to the intake area. Once there, you’ll be given a full briefing.”

  Hands flew up around the crowd.

  “Sorry,” McConnell said, not sounding the least bit sorry, “but there’s no time for questions here. Team One, grab your bags and get to the trucks.”

  No one moved.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I promise you’ll hav
e all the answers you want, but for now, move out!” McConnell bellowed out the final order.

  People muttered and grumbled, but the members of Team One picked up their luggage and walked over to the trucks.

  Dash tugged on Yifei’s elbow and the pair went with Team One. He wasn’t a member of any team but slipping away from McConnell offered them a better chance of keeping their freedom for a little longer.

  A tall man with a trimmed mustache and a surprising beer belly saluted them as they approached. Unlike the Olympus Initiative, he wore a naval uniform. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Senior Chief Southern. I’ll get you where you’re going today. Please climb aboard and we’ll be off.”

  His command voice carried the authority and confidence of a man who knew his orders would be obeyed.

  It made a difference. No one hesitated this time, hopping into the trucks like eager recruits. Once seated, the back gate slammed shut and the truck took off. Dash found himself sandwiched between Yifei and a handsome man with longish brown hair, a sun-beaten face, and an easy grin.

  They drove north a short distance, along what looked to be a second runway, then turned left to the center of the base. Dash stood up and peered over the cab. Ahead stood six large buildings on the left and two structures on the right. These looked old and weathered, so they were part of the original facilities. Behind them, however, were numerous portable buildings, not unlike manufactured homes, and the same round, tan tents he’d seen before at Travis.

  The first aircraft carrier, off to the north, lay in what looked to be a concrete ring. To the northeast, across the water, the second carrier rested in a similar enclosure. Despite lacking the superstructure that housed the bridge and radars, each carrier had helicopters and Ospreys taking off and landing. People in brightly-colored shirts walked around the deck.

  “What’s going on here?” A woman asked, standing up next to Dash. “I thought we were going to help impoverished Polynesians or something.”

  “Doesn’t look like that’s the plan,” Dash replied. “What’s your job?”

  “Before I joined the initiative, I was a botanist at Texas A&M.”

  Another occupation perfect for rebuilding a shattered world. The Olympus Initiative’s plan made more and more sense to Dash. They weren’t going to hide these people in some underground vault to ride out the Erebus impact, but rather take them aboard the carriers that would battle the asteroid. If they failed and the Earth was devastated, the people tasked with healing the planet would be safe.

  An aircraft carrier was perfect for that mission, too. Already a small city, it could house thousands of people, possessed nuclear reactors for unlimited power, and its hangars could store aircraft and vehicles necessary for recovery operations. It even had fuel tanks.

  Airport. City. Hospital. Power plant. An aircraft carrier fulfilled all those roles.

  “Not a bad plan,” Dash whispered.

  The trucks pulled up at the far end of the building cluster. A large pavilion covered rows of folding chairs. More men and women in Navy uniforms ushered them from the trucks and escorted them to the shaded area.

  Dash and Yifei took their seats with the others and waited. It took twenty minutes to get everyone ferried over. A mix of Navy and Air Force personnel ringed the area. Some brought bottles of water, others handed out ballcaps with the ships’ names on them.

  Dash glanced at his hat. CVNS-80 Enterprise. He pulled his hair back into a loose knot, then slipped the hat on. It might keep anyone from identifying him.

  At least for a little while.

  After ten minutes of waiting around, Dash saw Captain Onsurez, now in khaki pants and a yellow long-sleeved T-shirt with the letters CO embroidered on it, walk towards the tent with two men, both dressed in the navy blue uniforms he’d seen earlier. Their synchronized footsteps and general demeanor suggested that the other two were military as well. McConnell appeared and hurried out to greet them.

  They held a brief discussion in the sun. Dash’s heart seemed to creep up his throat as he watched, certain McConnell would spin around and denounce him with an accusatory finger. Instead, Onsurez said something, the two military men nodded, and McConnell shrugged.

  Instead, the quartet walked into the shade and up to a microphone on a stand. Unlike the visit to Travis, however, McConnell stood at the end and Onsurez grabbed the mic, tapped it twice to make certain it was live, then held it up near her jaw. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but she hesitated.

  One of the two military men leaned in, whispered something in her ear. She considered his words, then set her shoulders.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Midway. We met earlier this morning, much earlier actually, but you didn’t know the whole truth of our situation. It’s time you learned why you’re truly here today.” Onsurez cleared her throat. “You’ve all been selected for a mission of the greatest importance. You each bring specific skills vital to the survival of humanity. Today, you join us in a most desperate race—one we must win.”

  “This is it,” Yifei whispered.

  Murmurs broke out in the crowd. Dash heard very little anger, but lots of fear.

  Dash grabbed his phone, set it to record video, and slipped it into the front pocket of his flight suit.

  Onsurez walked over to the whiteboard and flipped the cloth over exposing several poster-sized images.

  Dash recognized them all. “Erebus,” he breathed.

  “This is 1111 AR99 Erebus,” Onsurez said, pointing at the clearest image of the asteroid. “Researchers in New Zealand detected it just over a year and a half ago.” She pointed at the next image. “When we spotted it, it took ten days to confirm its path and the threat it posed. It’s a rather large asteroid, visible in our night sky right now if you live in the southern hemisphere and know where to look. It’s going to be very obvious in the next few days and will be visible, even during the daytime.”

  She walked to the center of the crowd and faced the audience, which had fallen silent. They only heard the noise of the tropical breeze rustling the leaves—and the thundering of their hearts.

  “In eighteen days, Erebus will strike the Earth.”

  Fearful cries erupted, but Onsurez held up her hands to forestall panic and questions.

  “Tomorrow, we’re going to launch these two carriers.” Onsurez pointed at them in turn. “USS Kennedy, under the command of Admiral Dorsett.”

  The stockier of the two military men stepped forward and nodded at the crowd, a somber expression on his face.

  “While I will command Enterprise,” Onsurez explained. “We won’t be alone, either. Around the world, similar launches will take place.”

  Faris Murad stood up. The amiable imam wore a scowl. “Begging your pardon, ma’am, but what good are aircraft carriers going to be against an asteroid. Wouldn’t nuclear missiles be better suited to stop it?”

  Onsurez shook her head. “You misunderstand. We’re not going to stop it—we can’t.” She swallowed and took a deep breath.

  “We’re trying to escape it.”

  Twenty-Four

  STUNNED SILENCE GAVE way to fear and sobs. Onsurez didn’t try to rein in the crowd. Dorsett, beside her, watched with the grim face of a parent enduring a necessary trial with a child. Dash realized that this wasn’t the first time they’d briefed people, though he suspected it was Onsurez’s first time.

  Yifei’s shoulders shook as she cried in silence. Dash wrapped her in an embrace and kissed the top of her head.

  People in uniforms filed into the crowd and offered comfort, mostly in the form of hugs. Despite the terrible news, Dash couldn’t feel the same grief, though his first thoughts were of his mother, followed by his dead brother.

  Even his father.

  The injustice that so many people died to prevent the word of the impending apocalypse from spreading. Rasul, Fasil—even Castillo—tugged at Dash’s heart. They died three weeks before everyone else, but for what?

  Onsurez and D
orsett gave people time to react and gain some handle on the horrifying situation, then took over. The briefing didn’t last much longer. The Olympus Initiative teams were told they would be taken to temporary quarters for their last night on Earth. There would be meals provided around the clock, so people could eat when they wished. They would be provided an opportunity to record messages to transmit to their families, though there could be no communication until after the vessels had launched.

  And that was it.

  The world was about to end, and people could take a nap or grab a bite to eat.

  Dash needed more. He grabbed his bag and hurried out of the pavilion, leaving Yifei behind. Off to the side of the crowd, the other military man, taller than Dorsett and Onsurez, moved to intercept him.

  “Ah, sir? Sir!”

  Dash lowered his gaze and considered his options. Fight or flight didn’t seem like realistic choices. He couldn’t swim back to Los Angeles and the ring of warships would probably pick him up without much effort.

  “Yes?” He said as he turned around.

  “I’m Commander Bruce, sir. XO aboard Enterprise.” Bruce tried a comforting smile. “You’re, uh, going the wrong way. Your quarters are this way.” He held out his hand. “I can take you to the truck that will get you there.”

  Bruce seemed like a nice enough man, so Dash pressed him. “XO, huh? That means you’re second in command, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You’re a pilot?”

  Bruce cocked an eyebrow. “Actually, I’m an astronaut. Spent six months aboard the International Space Station two years ago.”

  “So, you know what an Orion engine is.”

  “Affirmative.”

  Dash dropped his bag. “Then why aren’t we stopping Erebus?” He cried. “You’ve got a warship full of nuclear bombs. Can’t they blow up the rock or deflect it?”

  Bruce let out a deep breath and nodded. “Come with me. I’ll show you something.”

  He moved to grab the bag, but Dash slung it over his shoulder. He understood that Bruce wanted to be kind, but accepting it just now seemed wrong.