Part One
The Rising Swarm
Chapter 1
September 11, 2001
Mohamed Atta fingered the knife in his pocket, sweating nervously in the front row of American Airlines Flight 11. He’d prepared passionately for this day, eager to change the world by striking at the heart of the Great Satan. He’d be a martyr, making his sacrifice to Allah. They’d chant his name in the halls of the great mosques around the world. He’d be rewarded in the afterlife with a hundred virgins, and he’d feast among the chosen ones at the great table beside the Prophet himself.
But before all of that could happen, Mohamed had a task to do and he needed to concentrate, stay focused, and put his fears aside. He and his brothers had trained for many months, planning for all contingencies. He looked down at his watch—8:14 a.m.—just a few more seconds. The plane was passing over Boston, headed for Los Angeles, having just taken off from Logan International. If all went as planned, the plane would never make it to LA. Instead it would plow into the North Tower of the World Trade Center in New York City, right into the belly of the Great Satan, dealing the infidels a crippling blow.
Mohamed glanced at Waleed, who was sitting across the aisle just a few seats over. He inclined his head and Waleed did the same, then both stood. The three other members of their cell also stood, one after the other, making their way to their positions around the passenger cabin.
The time was now. Heaven was waiting for them all.
Waleed walked to the front of the cabin, followed closely by Mohamed. It was their job to kill the pilots and take control of the aircraft. As they approached the door to the cockpit, Mohamed pulled out the knife from his pocket. His hand shook as his sweaty fingers fumbled to firmly grasp the hilt of the blade.
“Sir, can I help you?” asked a young raven-haired flight attendant who’d just stepped out from the serving area.
Harlot. Infidel. Western women are all whores, the way they dress and flaunt themselves.
Mohamed’s hatred drove him forward. He gripped his knife, tensing his body. Then he lunged forward to stab the whore in her neck. But as he did so, she angled deftly to the side and blocked his blow with the blade of her hand. Then she grabbed his arm with both of her hands and used his momentum to pull him forward.
Mohamed was shocked. How could this woman move so fast? How could a mere woman knock him off balance like that? He didn’t have much time to think, though, as she deftly spread her hands out on his arm, keeping a tight grip and making sure the knife was far away from her body. In one swift move she jumped in the air, brought her knee up, and jerked Mohamed’s arm down with force.
A loud crack quickly followed as the bitch’s knee hit his elbow and snapped his arm back. Jagged pieces of broken bone ripped out of his skin and tore through his shirt. Blood splattered across the wall of the cabin.
Mohamed screamed out in agony. “Fucking whore, I’m going to kill you!” he yelled in Arabic.
He reached down with his other hand to pull out a knife concealed in his belt buckle, but the flight attendant was too fast. She dropped his mangled arm and coiled her body to the side, bringing her leg up to drive the sharp edge of her high-heeled boot into the side of his knee.
Another pop rang out as the sharp end of her heel dug deep into the front of his leg, breaking tendons and crushing his kneecap. Flashes of searing pain burned his vision as he fell to the floor.
Waleed had turned around by this time and had his knife out, trying to stab the woman. But she was too quick again. This time, instead of breaking an arm or a leg, she simply pulled out a gun and pointed the barrel at Waleed’s head. Two shots right between the eyes with a low caliber weapon, and Waleed’s jihad was over.
Mohamed tried to rise from the floor but with Waleed dead, the woman turned her attention to him again, this time kicking him in the head. He was almost unconscious when he felt a prick on his neck, then a burn that flowed along his veins and into his brain.
The last sounds he heard were shouts in Arabic and English from other sections of the plane. Then darkness swept over him.
Lieutenant Commander Charles “Buddy” Paulson bolted to attention in the back of the cabin when Agent Milena Mijatovic fired at the head of the hijacking terrorist. He wanted to help her, but he had his own trouble.
Two more al-Qaeda operatives had moved to other sections of the plane and were pulling out knives and smoke bombs, preparing to use them on resisting passengers. Paulson’s target was a young man with a peach-fuzz beard—Abdulaziz al-Omari—a skinny little bastard hoping to meet his hundred virgins today. Instead he was going to be meeting Paulson’s fist.
They only needed two out of the five hijackers alive for questioning. Paulson thought this kid would give up everything he knew with a just a little persuasion, so he decided to let him live. His older mustached companion, Satam al-Suqami, faced a different fate. Paulson didn’t like the looks of him, a punk terrorist so ready to condemn the excesses of the West yet so willing to partake in them himself.
Paulson jumped into action. Inches away from Satam, he pulled out his pistol, grabbed the man by the shirt, and fired two shots point blank into his forehead. Blood, skull pieces, and brain matter splattered all over the screaming passengers in the aisle.
The younger terrorist, Abdulaziz, stared at Paulson in shock, a wet stream running down the inside of his pants as he pissed himself. He dropped his smoke grenade, more out of sheer terror than anything. It exploded seconds later, spreading ominous dark smoke throughout the cabin.
Paulson took a deep breath before the smoke reached his position and jumped over the center aisle to where Abdulaziz stood. As he did so, the hijacker lunged with his small knife.
Ah, there’s fight in this one after all.
Time to get out some of his own aggression and show the punk he'd picked the wrong people to mess with.
Paulson went about 210 pounds, all of it muscle, and this kid had to be 120 dripping wet. Paulson simply enveloped the young man’s hand with his own and clamped down hard. Abdulaziz’s finger bones cracked, breaking under his vice-like grip. The terrorist let out a girlish scream and dropped his knife.
Paulson grabbed him by the throat with his other hand and easily lifted him up over his head and slammed him into the overhead bins. The impact just rattled the bastard’s brains a bit as bags and suitcases fell from the compartment. He tried to break free of Paulson’s grip, but was too pathetically weak.
Paulson dropped his center of gravity slightly, still holding Abdulaziz by the neck, swung him around, and then slammed him to the floor.
The force of the impact left the young hijacker gasping, the wind knocked out of him. Paulson pulled out his handy little tranquilizer injector and stabbed it into the downed man’s neck. He was out in seconds.
Paulson stood and looked around, assessing. It was hard to make out everything in the smoky cabin, but it looked like his team members had done their jobs. Three of the five terrorists were dead and two were unconscious, captured, for later interrogation.
Paulson smiled at Agent Mijatovic, who was looking exotic and sexy in her flight attendant uniform. But he knew better. She was as deadly and cold-blooded as any of the male operatives, maybe more so. He was very, very glad to have her on his side. She smiled back and gave him a thumbs-up.
Mission accomplished.
Paulson knew similar scenes were playing out on airplanes around the country, all successful operations for the Navy SEAL Clandestine Operations Division.
Of course, knowing the future before it happened made their job a lot easier.
So just like that, September 11, 2001, became just another day in history, like any other on the calendar.
Chapter 2
Ten Months Later
9:00 a.m., July 25, 2002
Outside Lechuguilla Cave
Dr. Patrick Chen was relaxing in his construction trailer with a nice cup of herbal tea when he heard the screams. They came from the construction pit, echoing up from deep inside the earth where they’d been tunneling for weeks. Chen ran to the main construction area where crews had been working round the clock to dig the tunnel. It was the first step in the construction of the underground base where Project Chronos would be located.
Abe Conner and his wife Victoria emerged from their trailer at the same time.
“What’s going on?” Chen asked as he stood at the edge of the pit.
“We’re not sure, sir,” Timmons, one of the engineers, said. “It could be an equipment malfunction.”
Another scream rang out. This one closer to the surface.
“Oh my God! What is it?” Victoria asked, her hands clutched to her chest.
Abe looked knowingly at Chen, who slowly nodded. Abe’s eyes widened.
“Run, Victoria!” Abe yelled out frantically, pushing his wife away from the gaping hole in the middle of the desert. “Get in the truck and get away from here! Go now!”
Victoria resisted, twisting away from Abe’s hands. “What’s going on?”
“Ahhhh, No! No! No!” More screams echoed up from the dark pit.
“We need to go down there and help them,” Timmons said.
Several military personnel, including the man in charge, Sergeant Briggs, came running up to join the construction crew and engineers staring into the pit. They were pushing a large device on wheels, a device that looked like a thick-barreled cannon.
“Back up, get back!” several men barked out as they positioned the cannon on the edge of the pit, got behind it on a platform, and aimed it down. One of the men flipped a switch on the side of the device, and it roared to life, filling the air with rumbles.
Abe was still frantically pushing Victoria, trying to get her to move, but she said, “Abe, we need to help those men down there. I can’t just run away.”
“What is that thing?” Timmons asked Chen as he stared at Abe and Victoria, panic beginning to spread over his face.
“An electromagnetic pulse cannon, one of the latest and most powerful models. And I hope it works.” Chen knew what was happening now. It was their worst nightmare, and he couldn’t believe it had arrived. Sure, they’d prepared for the possibility, but he’d never expected—
As they stood over the pit, watching and waiting, something zoomed up from the depths and into the sky. It was small and flying fast. Chen could barely make it out from the light of the midday sun reflecting off its shiny surface.
Sergeant Briggs fired the pulse cannon, which sounded like a bug zapper on steroids. A streak of distortion burst through the air, barely visible to the eye as it shot out from the cannon, and narrowly missed the flying object. The tiny thing flew up about ten feet over their heads, circled the area where they were standing, and then dove straight for Dr. Chen.
Abe and Victoria, standing beside him, both jumped out of the way.
Instinctively Chen held up his arm to shield his face, and the tiny creature landed on his wrist. Chen pulled his arm down and watched as a bluish-green creature with wings, about the size of a flea, began crawling over his wrist. Immediately it dove into his watch, using its claws and sharp mandibles to burrow into the metal.
Chen shook his arm in terror, then unsnapped the watch and threw it to the ground. He knew all too well what this creature was and what it could do.
It was a deadly nanobot from the future.
“Get out of the way, Doctor!” Briggs yelled out.
Just as the watch hit the ground, another pulse shot out from the cannon, this one striking Chen’s lower body but missing the watch. Chen collapsed, his legs momentarily paralyzed from the shock of the EM pulse. The nanobot had disappeared completely into his watch, which was vibrating and shaking in the dirt.
A second later the watch burst apart and eight new creatures rose up from the debris. They hovered about six feet off the ground for several seconds, like predators trying to catch a scent on the air. The pulse cannon fired again, this time hitting a few of the creatures. They fell, clinking on the rocky earth.
Chen picked up a rock lying beside him and poked at the remains of his watch.
“Damned glad it was a fake Rolex,” he mumbled under his breath.
The creatures zoomed toward Abe and Victoria. Abe jumped in front of his wife as the nanobots spread out and starting circling them at a rapid speed. Terror filled the faces of the couple as their heads darted back and forth, eyes jumping as they tried to follow the creatures spinning around them, circling ever faster.
A second later several of the bots darted toward Victoria, landing on her neck.
“Your necklace! Throw it on the ground!” Chen yelled out. He knew the bots were after some type of raw material that would enable them to multiply. Whatever it was, it was in his watch and was likely in some of the jewelry Victoria was wearing.
She reached up to unlatch her necklace, but jerked her hand away when one of the bots bit her. Then she tried to pull it off, yanking violently, but it was too thick and wouldn’t break.
“Oh God, they’re biting my neck! Get them off, get them off!” she screamed as trickles of blood dripped down her neck and onto her white blouse.
Abe moved behind her and fumbled with the catch on her necklace. He swatted at a few of the bots still buzzing around their heads.
“Ahh! I can’t get it!” he yelled out in frustration. Then he pulled back one of his hands and started shaking it, yelling in pain.
“Abe, help me!” Victoria screamed, reaching behind her head and trying to undo the chain.
Chen tried to stand, but his legs were paralyzed from the EM blast. He started crawling away from Abe and Victoria, who were still right beside him. There was nothing he could do for them. He had to save himself.
“Briggs!” Chen called out. “What the hell are you doing over there?”
Chen wondered why he wasn’t firing at the bots.
“One of those damned things got into the machine,” Briggs yelled as he opened up the front of the device and looked inside. ”It’s shot all to hell.”
He reached into the guts of the device and pulled out electronic and wire entrails still sparking, obviously destroyed.
“Ahhhhhhh!” Victoria’s blood-curdling screams echoed out into the desert.
Abe had returned to her necklace, trying once again to remove the death chain. The anguish on his face made him look old and near bloodless. Not only was the woman he loved being eaten alive in front of him, but the bots were still digging into his own flesh and crawling up his arms into his shirt.
He was finally able to get Victoria’s necklace loose and threw it to the ground with a shout. It was covered with nanobots dividing and multiplying even as they watched.
Victoria had stopped screaming and stood unmoving, mouth open, staring off into the distance, blood pouring down her neck. Her white blouse was soaked in it.
“Victoria, Victoria, are you okay?” Abe asked as he grabbed her by the shoulders. “Say something, sweetheart. Oh please, God, make her okay!”
He tried to hold her up, but she dropped to her knees. Then Abe pulled away and grabbed at his chest. He ripped his shirt off, buttons shooting out, to reveal a chest swarming with nanobots digging into his skin and crawling on a chain he wore around his neck. It was similar to the one that Victoria had been wearing, but a large cross dangled from the end of it.
Chen was panicked now, desperately trying to get away, dragging his numb legs, his fingers bleeding from clawing and pulling himself over sharp rocks. He glanced back to see the heads of the tiny creatures digging into Abe’s chest, their back legs twitching in ecstasy as they devoured his flesh.
A stiff wind blew through the desert, kicking up dust. Chen watched through the dust as Victoria sat on her knees in the dirt staring straight ahead, legs folded behind her. Her head tilted slowly up, as if begging the heavens to end her suffering. Her chin rose higher and higher until it was pointing straight up. Then a gaping hole opened up at the base of her neck. It grew wider and wider as both Chen and Conner watched in horror. Screams echoed through the site as others ran, trying to get away from the attacking creatures.
Victoria’s head fell backwards and off her body, severed by the nanobots. Pieces of hanging flesh and part of her spinal column clung to her head as it rolled into the desert sand. Her headless body slumped and fell forward, kicking up dust as it hit the ground, collapsing in a bloody heap.
“Nooo!” Abe screamed, tears of anguish streaming down his cheeks and blood covering his mangled chest. "Dear Jesus, please help her. Please! I'll do anything..."
More of the bots sprang from his body, multiplying as they gnawed away at the cross dangling from his neck. Then they rose into the air and headed for Chen.
“Oh no,” Chen whispered. This was it. There was no stopping them now.
But just as they were about to land on him, several of the creatures began flying in erratic circles, sputtering midair. Then they just fell to the ground, legs twitching as they lay on their backs. A few of the deadly things tried to rise again, but they quickly fell back, flopping and writhing. Moments later, their twitching stopped and they lay still, by all appearances, dead.
Chen picked up one of the rocks closest to him, raised it above his head, and slammed it down as hard as he could. A loud crunch filled the air, and he felt the miniature circuits of several of the creatures crushing under the force of the blow. Greenish goo oozed from their insides and stuck to the bottom of the rock.
Abe lay just a few feet away, clutching at his chest as the last few bots gnawed and clawed at his flesh in their final violent death throes. Then they simply fell off his body, oozing out of the holes they’d burrowed into. Draped across his bloody chest was a half-eaten cross still dangling from its chain. A single bot clung desperately to it, then it too fell to the dirt. Abe looked at Victoria and started sobbing, despair pulling at his face.
“Oh, my love. My sweet Victoria.”
The handful of remaining bots that had attacked and disabled the pulse generator rose into the air, then soared away, heading north.
The feeling was starting to return to Chen’s legs. By some miracle he’d survived this initial attack. He had no idea how.
But he knew this was far from over. Those remaining bots were going to be hunting for whatever it was that helped them multiply. If they found that substance, then there would be millions—billions—of the creatures to deal with and their fight for the future of humanity would be over before it even started.
Chen needed to find out what they were after and stop them before they got to it. But he couldn’t do it alone. He needed reinforcements. He needed to bring in the big guns.
Chapter 3
10:00 a.m., July 25, 2002
Las Vegas
“Ahh, shit, somebody turn off that fucking phone!”
The buzzing of the cellphone cut through Jeff’s head like a razor blade. He’d just fallen asleep about half an hour ago after a long night of partying.
The tall, blond showgirl slowly climbed out of the bed and eased over to the dresser on the other side of the luxurious and sprawling penthouse bedroom. Her long hair swayed gently across the top of her naked buttocks. As she reached over to turn off the phone, the angel tattoo on her back rippled like it was going to fly away. Then she glided back to the bed, stopping at the table in the middle of the room to snort a quick line of cocaine. Her ample breasts bounced as she brushed her hand across the bottom of her nose.
“Come on back to bed, babe,” said the Asian cocktail waitress lying on the other side of the bed, her voice dripping with lust.
Jeff had already forgotten their names. They were just two more conquests in a long line going back several years. It was the life of the international playboy he’d become. The money, the fame, and the power came too easily when you knew the future before it happened.
Jeff turned and buried his face in the cocktail waitress’s long dark hair. She smelled so good. He turned his head to kiss her full lips when the phone rang again. This time it was the room phone.
“God damn it!” Jeff growled as he reached over and snatched up the phone from the nightstand. ”I told you I didn’t want to be disturbed!”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Madison,” stammered the concierge from the front desk. ”But I have an urgent message from a Dr. Patrick Chen. He says it’s a matter of life or death.”
Well, that certainly got his attention. Chen was usually very stoic.
“Put him through.”
“Jeff, thank goodness I got you. There’s been a horrible attack here at the Chronos site. The nanobots are loose, Jeff, they’re loose!”
The panic rose in Chen’s voice as Jeff tried to clear his thoughts.
“Patrick, please calm down and tell me what happened; you’re not making sense.”
Chen took one deep breath and then another. ”It happened just moments ago. The crews were digging down and apparently unearthed a nanobot that had survived underground. It killed two of the construction crew, then killed Victoria and nearly mangled Abe to death. It absorbed a material from my watch and from necklaces that Abe and Victoria were wearing. Then it multiplied. Jeff, if it finds more of the substance, whatever it is, I fear it’ll be able to multiply at an exponential rate. Then there’s no stopping it.”
That was just too much for Jeff to take in. He looked longingly at the line of cocaine on the table. It’d been a long time since he’d thought about nanobots. He swayed dizzily as he stood holding the phone, still drunk from the celebration the night before. He wondered if this whole thing was just a dream.
“Jeff, Jeff, are you still there?”
“Yeah, give me a second, Patrick.” Jeff bent over and snorted a quick line. A second later the euphoria swept over him. It was the same feeling he used to get waking up on Christmas morning as a kid. He smiled, but as he did so, a dark cloud passed over him.
He was back in Lechuguilla Cave, deep underground, surrounded by darkness and blood-curdling screams. He was standing over Holly Scarborough, her blood covering his eyes and dripping down his cheeks into his mouth.
Jeff slapped his face to jolt himself out of the nightmare he’d tried so long to forget. The coming apocalypse of deadly viruses and nanobots had seemed so far away, and now it was slamming straight into his addled mind.
“What about the pulse cannon? Did that have any effect?” he asked, trying to pull himself back to the reality facing him.
“It knocked out a few of the creatures, but not enough,” Chen replied, his voice calming. ”What are we going to do?”
“Have you called Paulson yet?”
“No, I thought of you first since you’ve had direct experience with the nanobots. You and Holly, that is. But Holly has gone missing. No one has seen her in over a week. Do you have any idea where she is?”
Jeff hadn’t talked to Holly in years.
“I don’t know where she is. I suggest you call Paulson; I’m sure he’ll be able to handle this. Keep me posted. I’ve got some things to take care of now.”
Jeff hung up and glanced at the two girls in the bed.
“Come on back, Jeffrey, we’re not done with you yet,” the blonde said as she draped her leg over the naked, petite body of the cocktail waitress and caressed her shoulder.
Jeff thought briefly of jumping back in bed with them and just forgetting the world. That was the pattern he’d followed for years now. Many times he felt he wouldn’t even be around to see the disaster looming in the distant future. He figured he would be long dead from some age-related illness or his body would just give out from years of drinking and drug abuse.
Yes, it would be easy to just slip back in bed with the girls. But this time the fear was building inside him. His heart starting racing as his memories turned back to the damp dark cave and Holly’s severed arm lying in the shadows beside her, swarming with tiny nanobots gnawing and eating the flesh like horrible maggots.
No, he had to get out of there. If the nanobots were coming, he needed to get as far away as he could—China maybe. He threw on his underwear and pants, grabbed a shirt, and headed for the door.
“Sorry, girls. Emergency. Gotta run.”
They could fend for themselves.
Just as he was heading out the door, the phone rang again. This time it was his cellphone.
“I’m busy right now,” he barked out. ”This better be urgent.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Madison, I’m sorry to bother you. This is Sam Roberts, director of your satellite communications division. When we put up one of our first satellites years ago, you told me to contact you if we picked up a certain transmission frequency. Well, sir, we did, just a few minutes ago. There was a broadcast from an AM radio station just outside of Albuquerque.”
Jeff tried to organize his thoughts and remember just what Sam was talking about. He seemed to recall that the nanobots used a special signal to communicate with each other.
Albuquerque wasn’t that far north of Lechuguilla Cave. The bots that had escaped from the tunnel could’ve made it there by now. It was likely that they had broadcast the signal. Why? Jeff could only guess they were trying to communicate, find out if there were other bots in the area.
“Thank you, Sam. I have a guy looking into that.”
Jeff paused at the door for a second, then walked back inside and grabbed a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels from the bar.
Just a few shots for the road to take the edge off. Too many things were happening at the same time, and his clouded mind couldn’t take all of it.
“Oh, and sir, there was another signal just after the first, originating from somewhere in San Diego.”
Jeff’s heart started pounding. Another signal? If the first came from the Lechuguilla nanobots, then what the hell was in San Diego? All kinds of possibilities churned through his head, none of them good.
“Sir, sir? Are you still there?”
“Yes, Sam. Just continue to monitor the situation and let me know if anything else happens.”
"Uh, okay sir. I'm sending you the location of the second signal and I'll continue to search for any others."
Jeff hung up and looked out of the window of the luxurious penthouse suite, scanning the Las Vegas skyline sprawling out below.
Paulson can handle this. He was the soldier. Jeff certainly wasn't a fighter. He was... Well, he didn’t know what the hell he was anymore.
He turned to the girls in the bed. They were in a full embrace now, legs wrapped around each other, kissing passionately, totally oblivious to his presence and the crisis at hand.
He hit speed dial on his cell to tell Paulson about the signals.
“Damn it!” He slammed the phone against his leg when he couldn’t get a connection. Even to this day, Jeff missed 2038 technology.
He threw his shirt on and tried the concierge from the room phone.
“I’m sorry, sir, but all outside lines are down. The phone company tells me they’re working on it, but they don’t know when they’ll be back up.”
Not good, not good at all. Jeff had seen this situation play out before. With communication lines down, something bad was likely looming over the horizon.
So there was no way to get in touch with Paulson. Jeff hung up the phone, returned to the window, and brought the bottle of Jack up to his lips. He wanted to forget this whole thing. Wanted to climb back in bed with the two girls and go back to his life of oblivion. The cool burn of the whiskey touched his lips.
Ah, sweet elixir.
Down below his window, the flashing lights of the Circus Circus Hotel and Casino blinked incessantly. Without prompting, his mind flashed back to a time in his distant past, to an event that wouldn’t happen for another thirty years in the present timeline. He was standing beside his daughter as she rode the merry-go-round at the state fair. Her laughter filled the air as she waved to her mom. Then she grinned at Jeff and said, “Daddy, I love you.”
A day lost in time. Tears welled up in his eyes. He missed his daughter and son so much. No matter how hard he tried, he could never forget them. Not a day passed that he wasn’t reminded of them in some small way.
He still held the bottle of whiskey to his lips. A tear dripped down his cheek, slow and cool against his skin.
It would all be over if he didn’t do something. His children would never be born. Billions would die.
Jeff never wanted to be a hero. He never wanted to be a time traveler, and he never wanted to be responsible for saving the world. He just wanted his life back.
He tipped the bottle up again and let the Jack pour into his mouth.
Then, like a switch clicking in his soul, he lowered the bottle and spat the whiskey on the floor.
“No more. Never again,” he whispered softly to himself.
He turned away from the window and hurled the bottle across the room.
It shattered against the wall, glass flying everywhere as a dark stain dripped down to the floor.
The girls looked up in surprise as he stormed out of the room, but he knew they’d be back in each other’s arms in moments.
Jeff charged down the hallway to the elevator as fast as his clouded mind would let him. His loyal bodyguard, Chase Arrington, who’d been waiting patiently outside the hotel room, followed. He decided that he’d go to San Diego. He didn’t know what was waiting for him there, but whatever it was, he was going to stop it.
The future would not end today. Humanity would survive this threat. Jeff might have lost his way for a time, but he was back now, and he was not going to run.
He would face whatever was coming at them head on.
Chapter 4
2030 HRS, July 25, 2002
Baghdad, Iraq
Lieutenant Commander Buddy Paulson was finishing up his dinner at a small restaurant on the outskirts of southern Baghdad. He was sitting across from Jamal Bahar, the owner of a large construction company and general busybody who knew everything that happened around town. Jamal had his hands in so many different pots, Paulson wondered how he could keep track of it all. But with his close contacts to Saddam Hussein’s regime, he was invaluable to Paulson in getting done what he needed to do.
Paulson had known him for two years; Jamal had been providing information on all of the political machinations of the Hussein dictatorship peppered with some really funny stories about his wacky family and friends. Jamal was always jovial and never one to turn down a cold beer and a hearty meal. Nor was he ever at a loss for words. Jamal had just gotten into a story about how his cousin’s wife had found out he was having an affair with her sister.
“Yes, you see his wife, Fahima, insisted on going to the bar with him last Friday,” Jamal said with a big smile.
Like a great hairy beast, he tore off a big hunk of lamb from a large leg bone. The juice dripped down his salt-and-pepper-colored beard. He continued on with his story, mouth full of food.
“When it got too late, she hopped on their mule to head home, leaving Mahmood at the bar with his friends. Now, that old mule had traveled that way so many times before, it knew exactly where to go. Only it didn’t go to Mahmood and Fahima’s house—it headed straight to her sister’s!” Jamal laughed again, eyes wide with mirth.
“That old Fahima is a shrewd one. So instead of trying to force the mule to her house, she just let it trundle along where it wanted to go. When it stopped right in front of her sister’s home, Fahima hopped off, ran up to the house, and found her sister there waiting up for Mahmood.”
Jamal slapped the table, causing their plates and silverware to jump.
“Oh, my goodness, can you image the look on their faces! And that old mule gave it all away. So now my cousin, he’s not sleeping with his wife or her sister; he’s sleeping with the poor mule!”
Paulson’s laughter joined Jamal’s. Jamal was certainly a character and a good friend. Paulson hoped he’d survive the U.S. invasion that was coming in another year.
He took another swig of the Jordanian whiskey that was popular in the area as Jamal finished his drink and slammed his mug to the table.
“Speaking of wives,” he said. ”I’d better get home to mine.”
“Otherwise she might think you’re over at her sister’s,” Paulson said.
Jamal laughed. ”No, no, I can’t even look at another woman around my wife, she’s so jealous. I still have a mark here on my cheek where she slapped me the other day for telling her cousin that I liked her new yellow shawl. You would’ve thought I’d grabbed the girl on her ass or something.”
Paulson had met Jamal’s wife before, a large, strong woman. He was sure she could pack a wallop. Jamal’s cheek did look a little red.
“Just be glad she didn’t go after the family jewels.”
“You’re telling me, Buddy,” Jamal said, smiling as he put both hands in front of himself in mock protection of his prized assets.
Paulson paid the bill, and the two men left the restaurant, along with several other men who had been there about the same length of time.
“Until next time, my friend,” Jamal said as he walked away. ”Greetings to your wife and family.”
“And to yours, my friend. Fi Aman Allah.”
As Paulson turned toward his apartment, his satellite phone rang.
“Commander Paulson, this is Patrick Chen. We have an emergency.”
Paulson listened as Chen explained the presence of nanobots at the Chronos site. He thought they’d been prepared with the military crew and the EM pulse cannon on site at Lechuguilla, but apparently he’d underestimated the threat.
“Any idea where they may go, Patrick?”
“A preliminary test on my watch leads us to believe that the material they are looking for is palladium. We’re still analyzing the chains Abe and Victoria were wearing to determine what it was that killed the bots and sent them flying away. Whatever it was, it saved our lives.”
“And where can they find palladium?”
“It’s a relatively rare metal, typically used in electronics and some jewelry, forming a type of white gold. You also find it in catalytic converters on most cars as an emissions control device.”
“So the nanobots are going after cars and jewelry?” Paulson asked as he made his way down the dark, dusty street.
“I suspect they’ll acquire some of the material as they move, but it’s our guess they are actually seeking a larger source of the element. I haven’t had time to do full testing on the nanobots we were able to destroy, but it looks like the one bot that survived down in the caverns was damaged, preventing it from reproducing normally. When these things reproduce, they make exact copies of themselves, so all the copies of the original bot also had the defect. Hence the need for a large source of palladium.”
“So where is this source?”
“The Stillwater Igneous Mining complex in Stillwater, Montana, along the north flank of the Beartooth Mountain Range. It’s one of the largest palladium mines in the world. If the bots get there, they’ll have more than enough raw palladium to reproduce a million—a billion—times.”
Paulson started doing the calculations. That many bots would be impossible to stop. They'd be overwhelmed and utterly annihilated.
“How fast are they traveling?”
“We received a signal from Albuquerque a few minutes ago. The signal matches those of the nanobots we have on record from the data pulled from the portables from the year 2038. Albuquerque is about two hundred and eighty miles from here, which means they’re traveling at around seven hundred and fifty miles per hour. Stillwater is about eight hundred and fifty miles from Albuquerque, so they’ll be there in just over an hour.”
Paulson thought before responding, scratching his forehead. There was no way he could scramble fighters or drones in time to catch the bots. Plus he doubted conventional weapons, like missiles, would be effective against the creatures. They were working on fitting drones with EM pulse cannons, but those were all in experimental stages and not ready to deploy.
“What should we do?” Chen asked, concern growing in his voice.
Paulson knew they only had one choice if they wanted to stop the nanobots. And it was a horrible one.
“Patrick, I’m going to call the president. It’ll be his decision from here. Keep me posted when you have additional reports. And let me know immediately when you find out what killed those bots on site. If there is some new way to destroy these things, I need to know about it right away.”
“Good luck.”
Paulson clicked off the satellite phone and rang the doorman of his building. Kasam greeted him, as always, with a generous smile, and Paulson took the elevator to his fifth-floor apartment. Once inside he immediately turned on his laptop to have an encrypted video conference with President Bush. As the computer booted up, Claire greeted him from the corner.
“Hello, Buddy. I’ve been monitoring the situation,” she said in her feminine, British-accented voice. “Current projections indicate the highest probability of success is with the Sky Hammer protocol,”
“I know, Claire. It may be our only hope now.”
Claire crawled over and positioned herself next to Paulson’s computer. When he’d received her as a package delivery in Khafji, Saudi Arabia, during Operation Desert Storm, she’d been nothing but a black box from the year 2038. She was basically a highly advanced AI built into a portable and sent back in time to 1991. Yet since that time eleven years ago, she had changed, evolved, both physically and mentally.
Using detailed instructions from Claire, Paulson had added small arms and hands to the device. Finally able to manipulate objects on her own, Claire took to modifying her body, adding sturdy tire treads like a tank’s, multiple spider-like legs that allowed her to crawl over surfaces where she couldn’t roll, additional arms, several camera lenses that functioned as eyes, and protective body armor. She now looked like a metallic crab with wheels. Over the last few months, she’d added some scanning-type apparatuses, though Paulson wasn’t sure exactly what they did.
Her personality had changed as well, becoming more human-like. She was built with an interactive AI designed to learn and grow over time, as well as a predictive algorithm that allowed her to analyze vast amounts of data and calculate potential outcomes. That clairvoyant function, for which Paulson had named her, made her invaluable to the success of their mission.
“We need to know what stopped those bots at Lechuguilla,” Claire said from her perch on the desk. “I’ve sent Patrick’s team the top three probable causes so they can narrow their testing. They should have an answer within the hour.”
“Thanks, Claire. But that may be too late.”
“Sky Hammer is ready. We just need the president’s approval. Or I could initiate on your command.”
Paulson looked at Claire, surprised. “No! We need approval for this. I’ve told you that before.”
She’d begun to act too independently in recent months, and that concerned him. Claire was able to tap into any online system, and no firewall or security protocol could stop her from doing what she wanted. It was that level of power that scared him.
Finally an image popped up on the screen. It was the secretary of defense, Donald Rumsfeld.
“The president is on his way, Commander. What do you have for us?”
“It’s happened, sir.” Paulson explained what had taken place at Lechuguilla and what options they had.
“How could this have happened!” Rumsfeld was furious. “Why didn’t you have safeguards there at the cave? More importantly, why the hell did you decide to dig there again knowing that those things could be down there?”
Paulson was unfazed by the Secretary’s tone. “Sir, we looked at other locations for the base, and Lechuguilla was by far the best choice. And if we had chosen to not dig there, then the nanobot would’ve eventually dug its way out on its own and there would’ve been no one there to stop it.”
“Well, that plan didn’t go so well now, did it?” Rumsfeld glared at Paulson. “So now we’re left with Sky Hammer? Our last resort that we had not planned on using for another thirty-five years, or long after I’m dead and gone. The president is going to be furious.”
Rumsfeld glanced away for a second. “Here he is now.”
President George W. Bush sat beside Rumsfeld in front of the video camera.
“Buddy, how you doing, son?” the president blurted out in his cheerful Texas drawl. “Sand fleas biting you out there in the desert?”
“It’s definitely not like staying at the Hilton, sir.”
Paulson knew he needed to engage the president with pleasantries before they started discussing the grave situation before them. It was crucial to warm him up before they got down to business, especially if Paulson wanted Bush to make the decision he needed him to make.
Luckily the two men had hit it off from the start after Bush took office in January of 2001. They were both from Texas and good ole boys of a sort, so they had that in common. When Paulson, with the help of Claire, accurately predicted the September 11 terrorist plot—and stopped it—Bush was forever grateful. And Paulson knew that once Bush trusted a man and took him under his wing, he was extremely loyal. Paulson hoped he would be able to parlay that relationship into convincing the president that he needed to make a very tough decision.
Rumsfeld brought Bush up to speed and as he talked, Paulson could see Bush’s smile and cheerful demeanor start to erode. He furrowed his brow and turned to face Paulson.
“What kind of proof do you have at this time, Commander?”
Shit, Bush had reverted back to calling him by his rank, never a good sign.
“I just received word from Dr. Chen a few minutes ago. Let me bring him in on the call.”
Paulson linked his video conference feed so Chen could join them. The scientist appeared on the screen looking tired, specks of dried blood and dirt streaked across his forehead. He told the president and secretary of defense everything he’d told Paulson just moments ago.
“They’ll be at the Stillwater Igneous mining complex in less than an hour if they continue traveling at their present speed,” Chen said.
“That doesn’t give us much time,” Bush said.
“We can order NORAD to be on standby for Sky Hammer initiation,” Rumsfeld added. “They’ll only need twenty minutes or so.”
A small message popped up on Paulson’s screen next to the video feed. Twenty-two minutes thirty seven seconds. It was from Claire.
Bush looked up, in deep thought, and stroked his chin. “We need to be sure of these nanobots’ destination and make sure we get all of them this time. It’s like putting out bait for cockroaches; this palladium mine is the bait and it’s where we need to trap ’em, and squash the damn things.”
Ninety-four percent probability that Stillwater is the likely destination, chimed in Claire’s instant message.
“Sir, if we wait, we run the risk of an exponential increase in the nanobots,” Buddy said gravely. “Then we’ll have no chance of stopping them.”
“Sky Hammer is too big a risk to take without being one hundred percent sure,” Bush said firmly.
“I’m sorry, gentlemen, but what is Sky Hammer?” Chen asked.
“It’s classified, Doctor,” Rumsfeld replied. “But if we do decide to initiate it, you’ll know soon enough.”
“What do you need to move forward, Mr. President?” Paulson asked.
Bush thought for a moment, looking unsure, then firmly he said, “I need to see satellite imagery or eyes-on-the-ground video of these nanobots at the Stillwater mine. When I see that, then I’ll give the go-ahead for Sky Hammer.”
Another instant message popped up from Claire. Time from visual confirmation to initiation, twenty-four minutes, fifty-two seconds. Extrapolating nanobot growth rate, flight speed, and Sky Hammer effective radius shows that two point one seven percent of the nanobot swarm will escape. Ninety-seven percent certainty.
Ninety-seven percent was about as high as any of Claire’s predictions got. If just one of the bots escaped, then they would be right back where they started.
“That may not be enough time, Mr. President.” Paulson said.
“Those are my orders, Commander,” Bush said, staring into the camera.
“You heard the president,” Rumsfeld said. “For now we wait to get visual confirmation. Dr. Chen, alert us if you find out anything new on how to stop these damn things. I’m going to put NORAD on standby for Sky Hammer initiation. We have a satellite positioned to give us a good view of the Stillwater mine, and I’m going to order an unmanned drone surveillance plane to the site.”
“So we’re just going to wait,” Paulson said, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice.
Let me take control, Claire IM’ed.
“Buddy, I know how you feel about this," said the president, "But I need to weigh the pros and cons of every decision I make. In the past I’ve had to make life and death decisions without full information, but this is vastly different. We’re dealing with too many unknowns. And I feel we need to be cautious. Wait by your computer; we’ll be in touch.”
The video flashed off and the faces of Bush, Rumsfeld, and Chen disappeared.
Paulson glanced over at Claire, now hovering on her spider-like legs just beside his hand near the computer keyboard.
“No, Claire. We need to wait for the president.”
“Then all may be lost,” she said.
Paulson stretched back in his chair, deep in thought,
Wood creaked behind him.
“Watch out, Buddy!” Claire yelled.
But it was too late. Paulson felt the cold steel of the knife at his neck. He’d been too distracted by the video call and the threat of the nanobots to realize that an assassin had snuck into his apartment.
He felt the man’s breath on the back of his neck and smelled his sweaty arm as the blade began to move, drawing a trickle of blood as it dug into his flesh.
Chapter 5
11:00 a.m., July 25, 2002
On a Trail near Machu Picchu, Peru
Holly Scarborough wiped the sweat from her forehead as the sun beat down on her. She adjusted her heavy backpack for the hundredth time and continued her slow, methodical walk along the narrow rocky trail. Her guide, Jose, was leading the way to a remote scientific outpost. Despite several days in the Peruvian Andes, she still had trouble breathing due to the extreme elevation. And she was again wondering what the hell she was doing out there.
She’d received a mysterious call several days ago from a Professor Niles Gustavson of the University of Geneva in Switzerland. He told her he was calling from an archeological dig near Machu Picchu, Peru, and he needed her to come down immediately. As she struggled to catch her breath, Holly thought back to their conversation.
“Professor Gustavson, I have responsibilities here. I can’t just take off and fly to South America. Can you just tell me what you found?”
Holly was sitting in her office at Harvard, wondering why she was talking to some professor on a dig in Peru.
“Holly, I know this is going to sound very strange,” he said in a thick Swiss accent, “but what I’ve found here is something I can’t explain over the phone. It’s . . . it’s complicated. And quite honestly, I don’t think you’d believe me. You really need to see it for yourself. My university can pick up the cost of your ticket, and the sooner you get down here, the better,”
“Listen, you’ve certainly got my interest, but you need to give me a little more information. My field is theoretical physics, and I know very little about archaeology. And I really can’t break away to go on some wild goose chase without any idea about what I’m getting myself into.”
Holly had grown skeptical and cautious as she’d gotten older and more experienced. The call could even be some kind of prank. What Niles said next, though, shook her to her core.
“Very well. Does the date January 15, 2038, have any meaning to you?”
“What do you know about that day?” Holly whispered, concealing any hint of emotion or knowledge she had about Extermination Day, or E-Day, as they’d been calling it.
“Well, as most people know, the Mayans had a calendar purporting that the end of the world will happen on December 21, 2012. What most people don’t know is that the Inca also had a calendar. And I’ve just been able to decipher when that calendar runs out— January 15, 2038.”
“That’s all very interesting, Professor Gustavson, but what does that have to do with me?” Holly said, still pretending to know nothing about the date.
“That, Dr. Scarborough, is something I’ve been asking myself for the last two days. And that is why I need you to come here and look at what I’ve found. Perhaps this last item is something that will spur your interest and get you properly motivated. I’m sending you a picture of a four-hundred-year-old drawing that we found on the inside of an Incan temple. Keep in mind that no one other than me and my dig team have been inside this temple in hundreds of years.”
Holly clicked on the email, and a picture popped up on the screen. It was a highly complex physics equation solving the stabilization of a singularity. It was the root of the calculations they used to create the vortex that enabled time travel. It had been etched in her memory, just like E=MC2 was for most students around the world, although in her original timeline it was not discovered by Dr. Patrick Chen until the year 2023.
What the hell was it doing in a four-hundred-year-old Incan temple?
The mystery was all she’d needed to get her butt out of Harvard and on a plane to Cusco.
“Jose! Are we almost there yet? Estamos casi allí todavía?” she yelled out to her Peruvian guide in broken Spanish.
“Si, Señorita Scarborough. Muy cerca ahora.”
Holly might have believed Jose if he hadn't been saying they were close for the last three hours.
They’d been hiking for two days through the mountainous terrain of Northern Peru between Cusco and Machu Picchu. They’d long since left the groomed trails followed by thousands of tourists each year from the town of Agua Caliente up to the ruins of the ancient Inca city of Machu Picchu.
Professor Gustavson had sent Jose, who was part of the local team helping at the dig site, to guide Holly. She was in excellent shape for a woman in her mid-thirties but the altitude of nearly eight thousand feet was making it extremely difficult to climb without getting short of breath. Normally, tourists would spend several days getting acclimated to the higher elevation before setting out on a grueling hike. Holly didn’t have that luxury.
“Aquí, aquí! Here!” Jose yelled out, pointing down the trail.
They’d reached the end of a high ridge and could look down into a small valley. Just at the end of the trail, a campsite perched on the edge of a series of sharp ridges and extreme cliffs dropping thousands of feet. On the far side of the camp, several stone walls had been constructed along terraced landscapes. The site was cradled between the stunning peaks of the Andes that jutted high into the sky. Low-lying clouds passed over the area, drifting like smoke through the ruins. The isolated beauty of the site was breathtaking.
Holly followed Jose down a series of steep steps that had been cut into the mountainside. Several of the archeologists saw them approaching and waved. One tall and very thin man wearing a broad white hat hurried over to them.
“Holly, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Niles Gustavson.”
He extended his right hand, then looked flustered and extended his left. Holly was used to the reaction. It happened every time she met someone new and they were the first to offer her a handshake. Since she had no right hand to extend, she usually tried to be the first to extend her left hand so people wouldn’t feel embarrassed or sorry for her. She was too tired and light-headed from the altitude to have thought that far ahead.
She’d tried wearing a prosthesis for a while, but found it too awkward. Plus she still remembered the technology that was available in her future, where advances in biodermal circuitry had enabled brain-controlled movement of biomechanical limbs. Downgrading to what basically amounted to a hook had no appeal to her. So until the technology caught up, she would simply do everything with her left hand. She had actually gotten pretty good typing with one hand, although she was waiting for the creation of advanced voice recognition software so she wouldn’t need to hunt and peck anymore.
“It’s nice to meet you as well, Dr. Gustavson. I have to tell you, it’s not easy getting out here.”
“Please, call me Niles. No, it certainly isn’t. This site was only recently discovered, or rediscovered, that is, by the locals. We believe that it was built in the early to mid-fifteen hundreds, around the time the Inca began to abandon Machu Picchu. But come, before I get into a lecture, let’s sit in the tent and I can get you some coca tea. The locals say it’s great for altitude sickness, but personally, I just like the taste.”
Holly dropped into a lawn chair in the largest of the tents set up on the site. She was thankful to be off her feet. Niles handed her a steaming cup of tea and after a few sips, the delicate taste and aroma had her feeling very relaxed.
“So . . . our phone conversation certainly got my interest,” Holly said. “All this talk of the end of the world and such. Then sending me that physics equation. That is some cutting-edge stuff.”
“You know what it means then?” Niles asked. “Because I sent it to some colleagues from the physics department at Geneva and they had no idea what it was. Although one particularly bright fellow seemed to think it had something to do with string theory.”
“It does, and that is my field of expertise, but I don’t really know what it means beyond that,” Holly said, lying. “But back to our phone conversation. Aside from my knowledge of physics equations, why did you choose to contact me?”
“We’ll walk over to the main site shortly, but first let me explain to you what we’ve found here and what this site is. We don’t have an official name for it yet, but the locals call it La Ciudad Celestial, the Heavenly City. Most archeologists have not paid it a whole lot of attention, preferring to focus on the larger Machu Picchu site. It wasn’t until a recent earthquake unveiled a previously hidden cave that the dig started to get interesting. You see, this small city is built over a larger cave system, and that’s where we found some amazing things.”
Holly’s heart stopped at the word cave. She’d not been underground inside any sort of cave in over ten years, not since she and Jeff were trapped in the Lechuguilla cave system for nearly a week. Even now Holly had nightmares of running through a damp, dark cave being pursued by a swarm of creatures trying to eat her flesh.
“Did you say cave?” Holly asked, the anxiety in her voice impossible to mask. “You see, I’ve got this thing about caves. It’s a bit of claustrophobia.”
Niles dismissed her fear with a casual flip of his hand.
“Don’t worry. We won’t be down there for very long, and it’s well carved out. We believe that the Inca lived there for decades hiding from the Spanish Conquistadores.”
Holly began to nervously tap her feet. First ten taps of the right foot, then ten of the left, followed by a flick of the finger, then she repeated the sequence again. She tried to conceal these ticks, especially the insane counting, as best she could when people were around, but in times of high anxiety she had a hard time controlling them. She had a mild case of OCD and had tried medication before, but it made her sluggish and slow witted. When she was a child, the compulsions had been very difficult. The slightest variation in her routine would cause anxiety attacks, and the only way to calm that oversensitivity was through repetitive behavior that she could control. As she got older, she managed to get a slight handle on her OCD using tricks or shortcuts to help her get through the day, but she was still a slave to a lot of senseless rituals. This trip, for example, was definitely outside her comfort zone. She preferred just being in the lab or in front of her computer, working on equations.
“I’m sure you’ve heard the story of Machu Picchu,” Niles continued. “It was built around 1450 to serve as an estate home for one of the Incan emperors and afterward was used as a refuge from the Spanish. That city lasted about a hundred years before the inhabitants either abandoned the site or died from smallpox. So the question then became, what happened to the ones who left? Did they go back to Cusco, where the Conquistadores ruled, and just assimilate with the population, or did they go somewhere else? Well, it’s my theory that they came here. The evidence shows that the Spanish never found this town, nor did smallpox ever reach the population. It was a sanctuary of peace for the remaining Inca deep in the mountains, well hidden and far from civilization.”
“And the cave?” Holly asked, still dreading the thought of going underground.
“The cave has extensive living quarters and a temple. You see, I believe that with all the death that these Incans had seen over their lifetime, from the Spanish and from disease, that they probably felt the safest underground. They were able to grow crops on the hillside here, but concealed their population underground. There aren’t a lot of caves in the area, so this was a valuable find for them. If you’re done with your tea, we can head over there now. It’s very spacious and well lit once we get through the first tunnel. Don’t worry, you’ll be okay.”
Holly wasn’t so sure about that. She poured herself another cup of the steaming coca tea and gulped it down, hoping a second shot of the herb would calm her nerves.
She’d learned from her hiking guide that coca tea actually contained coca leaves, from which cocaine was made. It was illegal in the U.S., unfortunately so, thought Holly. However, it was legal and very popular in Peru, Bolivia, Colombia, and Ecuador.
Holly and Niles left the tent and walked into the ruins of La Ciudad Celestial. The crumbled city didn’t look very heavenly to her, although she tried to use her imagination to picture what it may have looked like 550 years ago. The roofs of the buildings had for the most part fallen to the ground, lost to time, but many of the stone walls still stood. They weren’t constructed with cement, but instead various-shaped stones were fit tightly together, like a puzzle. Larger stones cut into rectangles were used to create windows. Steps led up and down between the rocky buildings and into the mountains.
Flat, grassy areas surrounded the structures cut into the mountainside. It looked like the flat areas may have been used for farming. A few alpaca ambled lazily through the ruins, munching away at the grass and staring at Holly. In the middle of the whole thing was a large mound of heavy stone slabs.
“Right in here,” Niles said, pointing to a dark narrow hole between the gigantic stone slabs. It looked like a rabbit hole. The ground had been dug out under it to make it a little bigger, which made it feel even more like an animal’s den.
“Ummm. That looks pretty narrow, Niles.” Holly felt the tension and anxiety building as she stood frowning at the hole.
“Trust me, Holly. Once you get through this narrow opening, it widens up. I’m six foot six and crawl through it all the time with no problem. Come on. I’ll go first.”
Niles got down on his hands and knees, then lay on his stomach to crawl through the hole. He inched his way forward, his long skinny body disappearing like a rat getting swallowed by a giant anaconda.
Holly could hear Niles’s voice echoing from inside the tunnel, urging her to come on. She tried to calm herself by tipping her face to the sky, then glancing at one of the buildings behind her and counting 823 stones in the south-facing wall. Then she tried to clear her mind as she crawled down into the tunnel.
Time to go down the rabbit hole, Alice. Let’s get that white rabbit.
Holly inched her way forward, stomach dragging in the dirt, the stump of her right arm scrapping against the rocks. A few feet in front of her was a bright light. She was almost there. She reached out with her left hand, and someone grabbed it. Then with a strong pull she was yanked into an underground chamber. There was a big drop off at the end, so Niles had to catch her in his arms.
“Didn’t want you to have to do a summersault like the rest of us have to do to get in here,” Niles said, laughing. “That was the hardest part. We can take steps the rest of the way down.”
Narrow beams of light shone through the slabs of collapsed stone that lay like a thick roof above them. Other broken rocks and foundation stones lay strewn on the ground. Holly stepped over several that bore intricate carvings as she followed Niles along a narrow set of steps leading down.
“There are living quarters all around us, but many of those collapsed during the recent earthquake. The main worship center is this way. It had the least damage and seems to have the best structural support.”
As they walked along, Holly studied the carvings and paintings depicting scenes from Incan life—the harvesting of crops and the herding of llamas and alpacas. The images had faded, but Holly could tell that when they were new, the frescoes had probably displayed a vivid array of colors. The cave opened up even more as they moved further down the steps, allowing her to see that the walls had been polished smooth. It felt like they were in a building instead of an underground cave, and so Holly relaxed. The archeological team had set up lights all over the place, and Holly recalled the generator she’d seen above ground a few minutes earlier. They passed several workers clearing areas and cleaning off small ceramic artifacts using little toothbrushes. Each greeted Holly and Niles with a wave or a nod.
“The Inca didn’t have a formal writing system, so they used ceramics and quipus to record knowledge,” Niles said, lecturing. “Quipus are cords of spun thread made from llama or alpaca hair. Through an elaborate system of knots, the Incas were able to convey complex information like accounting systems, literature, and religion. Most of the quipus were destroyed during the Spanish conquest, and knowledge of how to read and interpret them was suppressed. We were lucky to find many intact quipus in this cave. And we were even more fortunate a local villager was able to interpret their basic meaning. His knowledge isn’t perfect, but it was good enough to get us started. I have linguist and symbologist colleagues back at the university who were able to fill in the blanks.”
“So that was how you were able to figure out the Incan calendar?” Holly asked.
He rubbed his hands together, revealing his excitement. “The quipus and ceramic collection we’ve found here is extensive. It was almost like the Inca knew that their civilization was about to come to end and they wanted to preserve everything they could here in this secret place. It was their ark.”
Holly thought about what the Inca must’ve felt as they were being exterminated, the horror, the hopelessness, and the utter despair of an entire race being wiped out by an advanced force that they didn’t understand. It sounded eerily familiar to her.
And it will happen again if we don’t stop it.
They walked past living quarters which consisted of small rooms carved out of rock. Holly could imagine families huddled in these tiny rooms, hiding from the horror above, babies crying, mothers consoling them, telling them that life would be better one day while knowing full well that their lives would never be the same again. She could see elders reflecting on their civilization’s former glory and wondering what happened, all the while fearing that the evil, sadistic Spanish would find them at any moment.
Several hundred feet down the stairwell they entered an open circular chamber. More carvings and paintings covered the walls and more rocks and ceramics were strewn across the floor. Artifacts were being organized by young archaeologists.
“This way,” Niles said, pointing to an opening at the side of the chamber.
When they walked in, Holly could readily see that the designs on the wall were starkly different from those in the outer chambers.
“The Inca believed in an afterlife very similar to our Western European Christian concept of heaven, with beautiful snowy mountain peaks and fields covered in bright-colored flowers,” Niles said. “But they believed it was very difficult to get there. It’s not like our notion of heaven where if you get in, you get in easily. They believed that the spirits of the dead needed to follow a long dark road to reach heaven. To help them along the way was a black dog that could see in the dark. If you look here on the wall, you can see the black dog depicted very clearly.”
Niles pointed to the wall in front of them, where a fluffy black dog that looked a bit like a cocker spaniel stared out at them with glowing yellow eyes.
“Hmmm. He looks friendly,” Holly said. “I’d have thought the Inca would’ve depicted their afterlife guide as some type of vicious wolf-like creature.”
“I was surprised at the depiction myself. This is one of the clearest representations that we’ve been able to find anywhere in the Incan world. But look here on this wall. This is where I found the equations I sent you.”
On the wall facing the black dog drawing was an array of physics equations. All were complex, and Holly recognized most of them, including the one in the center, the time travel formula Niles had emailed to her. She pulled out her camera and took several pictures of the wall. There were a couple notations she would need to check on. They looked familiar, but something didn’t quite match up.
“So, Niles, I still don’t understand how you found me and why you wanted me here. I am the expert in this field, but you could have easily asked me any questions about these equations over the phone and through email.”
“This way; let me show you.”
Niles led Holly back out into the main chamber and across to the other side into another room. When they walked in, Holly’s breath caught. There, painted on the wall in front of them, was a blond Caucasian woman wearing traditional Incan clothing. Her right arm was blue, and she looked remarkably like Holly.
Holly glared at Niles, disgusted with the put-on. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re either incredibly naïve or this is the lamest joke I’ve ever experienced. Do you expect me to believe that Incas painted my picture on the wall of this cave over four hundred years ago? Give me a break, Niles.”
“Holly, I swear to you, this is no joke. We’ve carbon dated the pigments from the paint; this mural was painted here in 1550, give or take five years or so. I don’t know how it got here. I was hoping you could shed some light on this.”
Holly looked closely into the green eyes of the painting. Possible explanations began running through her mind. Sometime in the future would she time jump to the distant past? It was possible, of course, but she couldn’t see the reasoning behind it. The more immediate dilemma was figuring out how she was going to explain this to Niles.
“I have no idea how this got here,” Holly said. “Have you been able to interpret any of these drawings?”
“We’re working on it. And we found a large stash of quipus in this room as well. We’re trying to interpret those, but they’re proving a bit more difficult than the quipus that represent numbers. I’m hoping that they may explain this,” Niles said, gesturing toward the painting on the wall.
“But, honestly, this is so unbelievable that I don’t even want to tell anyone. I would be the laughing stock of the scientific community, and any explanation I could come up with for why this is here would be dismissed as science fiction. I mean really, Holly, you have to admit that this painting bears more than just a passing resemblance to you. The artist’s skill is not the greatest, but the blue right arm where yours is now missing could be logically construed as an artificial limb of some type. And then there are the physics equations in the other room—your area of expertise.”
Niles wasn’t stupid. He’d be able to connect the dots soon enough. And when he learned more about the nature of the equations painted on the wall and how they dealt with quantum string theory and singularities, he’d eventually be led to the idea of time travel.
As Holly was thinking about a proper response, her portable started buzzing. Not the new cellphone that she bought a few months ago, but her portable from 2038. She wore it all the time on her wrist, disguised to look like a typical sports watch common to 2002. To prevent any attempts at theft, the portable had 2038-level security, which meant anyone other than herself who touched it would receive a moderate electric shock. If anyone robbed her, they would be in for a painful surprise.
What was shocking, however, was that she hadn’t received a call on it since she time jumped.
“I’m sorry,” Holly said. “I have a call coming in that I need to take.”
She pulled out her cell, pretending the call was coming in on that, and stepped out of the room back into the larger chamber. She held the phone up to her ear and tapped on her wrist portable to pull up the call.
It turned out to be a text from an unknown number.
Call back.
Well, that was pretty straightforward. She pressed redial and waited for an answer.
The number rang and rang, but no one picked up. At the same time, Holly thought she could hear another cell phone ringing in the room. Her ears had to be playing tricks on her. She stepped over to the young archeologist arranging ceramics on the floor.
“Do you hear that? Is that your phone?” she asked.
“Not mine. Dr. Gustavson, is that your phone!” yelled out the young man.
Niles walked back into the main chamber.
“My phone’s back in my tent. It seems to be coming from somewhere in here.”
Niles looked into the air, straining to catch the sound. All three of them began circling the chamber. Holly put her head against one of the walls. The ringing seemed to be a little louder there. She inched her way farther along, pinning her ear against the cold rock as she walked. The ringing grew slowly louder with each step until it started to fade. She backed up until she got to the loudest spot. Niles and the other researcher were doing the same thing on the other walls.
“I think I’ve got it here,” Holly said.
“Yeah, it’s pretty distant over here,” Niles yelled out as he and the other man walked over and pressed their ears to the wall beside Holly.
“Is there another dig site on the other side?” Holly asked.
“No, no one has done any work over there that I know of. Somebody could’ve dropped their phone, though. Let’s have a closer look.”
Niles stepped back, pulled out a bright flashlight, and shined it on the wall, bringing it into sharper focus. All the while the phone continued to ring.
“Look at this. You see this slight discoloration here?” the young archeologist said, pointing at a section of the wall that was a slightly lighter shade of gray than the rest. He moved his hand as he traced the outline of the discoloration. “Look how it extends in this semi-circular shape, like a small door.”
“This area must have been walled off somehow,” Niles said. “It’s very well hidden; we probably never would have noticed it. Javier, run and get me a hammer and a pickaxe. We need to get through this.”
A few minutes later Javier returned with the tools they needed, and Niles and Javier anxiously started hammering away at the wall.
“I have to say, Niles, archeology seems like a much more exciting field than physics,” Holly joked, trying to lighten the mood as the two men swung their pickaxes.
“The last couple of days certainly have been, but most of the time I’m just digging through ancient garbage dumps and analyzing petrified poop.”
Holly laughed as Niles’s pickaxe lodged in the swiftly crumbling rock wall. He yanked hard and managed to pull it loose. A dark hole appeared, beckoning them to look inside. The ringing became louder.
“Almost through now,” Niles said, grunting.
Seconds later they had cleared out a hole large enough to crawl through. Niles shined his flashlight inside.
“It looks like a large chamber in there; I can’t see very well. I’m going in. You two want to come?”
Javier pushed toward the opening, dancing with excitement. “Dr. Gustavson, this is what I’ve been dreaming about since I took my first archeology class in college! Let’s go!”
“Holly, you okay?” Niles asked, squinting and bending down to peer into her face.
All the new discoveries and the mystery surrounding this cave had taken Holly’s mind off of the fact that she was indeed inside a cave. She looked at the opening again, swallowed, and took a deep breath to calm her nerves.
“Okay. After you two,” she replied.
Niles wiggled his tall lanky body in first, followed by Javier, then Holly. Both men helped her through and to her feet. Niles shined his flashlight around the room, alighting on several oblong objects that looked to be wrapped in fabric. The ringing was very loud, echoing off the walls.
“This looks like it may be a burial chamber. I’ll need to inspect those,” Niles said, shaking the flashlight toward the wrapped objects. “They appear to be sarcophaguses. First, however, let’s find that bloody phone. I think the sound is coming from over there.”
The three walked across the dark chamber as Niles lit their way with the flashlight. The ringing grew louder as they approached a large stone mound. It had a square base with intricately chiseled carvings on each side. Niles slowly moved the flashlight up the mound, revealing a golden pyramid on top of the base. The ringing was much louder here, and it sounded like it was coming from the top of the pyramid.
Niles shined the light on a protrusion at the top of the statue. It was small and black. Suddenly two small glowing eyes started to shine out from the black thing.
“My God, what is that?” Niles said, climbing onto the bottom ledge of the monument to get a better look. “It looks like a black dog, maybe a representation of the black dog that guides the Incan spirits into the afterlife. Are those diamonds in its eyes? Ah, I can’t see.”
“Be careful,” Javier said. “There could be booby traps.”
He sounded like a kid faced with a mound of presents on Christmas morning, but Holly had thoughts of Indiana Jones stealing gold idols only to then face spears and giant stone balls.
“Oh, Javier, you watched a little too much TV growing up,” Niles said as he stood on his tiptoes. “Okay, the ringing is definitely coming from this thing. There’s a lot of dust on it, but it almost looks like a stuffed toy cocker spaniel. I’m just going to grab it.”
Niles reached up and let out a blood-curdling scream just when he touched the dog. He fell off the pyramid into a crumpled mass on the floor. The dog came tumbling down with him, and Holly instinctively reached out to catch it. As soon as she touched it, its eyes glowed even brighter.
Then, amazingly, the object turned its head to look at her and began speaking.
Holly had no idea what it said, but it sounded like Tukuy kay pachaman paqarimujkuna libres. Was the language Incan?
A light shot out from the dog’s eyes and hit Holly in the face, temporarily blinding her the way a camera flash would. Then the dog, or whatever it was, switched to English to say, “Retinal scan confirmed. Subject identified, Holly Justine Scarborough. Optic nerve wireless neural link established. Beginning transmission.”
One moment Holly was staring into the eyes of the dog idol, and then a second later she was in a strange futuristic lab.
Standing across from her was herself.
“Hello, Holly. It’s about time you got here.”
Chapter 6
2130 HRS, July 25, 2002
Baghdad, Iraq
Paulson had no time to react as the knife cut into his throat— no time to reflect on his life, no time to feel fear or even anger.
A shot rang out and the assassin’s arm went limp. Paulson sprang into action, his training taking over. He jerked his hand up and under the assassin’s hand, then grabbed and twisted it. The knife clattered to the floor and the killer collapsed onto Paulson’s back. He spun around and the man fell, knocking the desk chair over.
Paulson quickly rolled him over and checked for a pulse. There was none as the man’s dark eyes stared at the ceiling, a bullet hole in his forehead slowly leaking a trail of blood onto the floor.
Who’d fired the shot?
Paulson looked up at his desk, where Claire was poised in a crab-like crouch, a tiny trail of smoke drifting up from one of her new attachments. Her antenna turned and pointed behind Paulson, then her new gun swiveled and fired.
“Buddy, there is another assassin in the room, at your four o’clock,” she said dispassionately. “Initiate evasive maneuvers.”
Paulson didn’t need any more warning than that. He quickly dove for cover behind the overturned chair. Shots fired from what sounded like a fifty-caliber handgun. They hit the chair and pieces of cloth and plastic exploded into his face.
“Cover me, Claire!”
He needed to get to one of the weapons he’d stashed in his apartment for just this sort of attack. The nearest was right under his desk.
Claire fired several more shots as Paulson dove for the gun. The assassin had ducked behind the kitchen counter to avoid fire from Claire.
“Ammunition depleted—hurry, Buddy,” Claire said as his fingers touched the handle of the pistol.
Apparently the assassin heard Claire and understood English, because he jumped out from the cover of the kitchen and started hammering multiple rounds at Paulson.
His fingers finally closed around the hidden weapon and in one fluid motion he pulled it out of the holster and turned to fire. But just as he did so, the assassin took dead aim at his face from just five feet away.
Claire sprang from her perch, flying between him and the assassin. The bullet ricocheted off of her newly armored body. The assassin fired again. This time Claire jumped toward him, and the bullet tore through one of her mechanical legs, sending her spinning across the room, sparks flying.
It was all the time Paulson needed. He fired four shots, two rounds to the chest, two to the head. The would-be killer fell to the floor, his legs and arms convulsing.
Alert to sounds from outside the apartment, Paulson hurried over to him, holding his gun out with both hands. The assassin was wearing body armor and a flak helmet. He’d been prepared and was still alive. Paulson’s chest shots had been stopped by the armor and the head shots ricocheted off the helmet so that they just grazed his cheek. He’d simply had the breath knocked out of him.
Paulson kicked the assassin’s gun away, pulled his helmet off, and pointed his own gun directly between the man’s eyes, yelling, “Who sent you?”
The assassin just laughed and said, “Allah sent me. You defile him and his holy shrines, infidel, and it’s time for you to pay.”
The man reached into his shirt, but Paulson stepped on his hand before he could get to it and then crouched down so his knee pinned the assassin’s other arm as well. Then Paulson reached in and pulled out some sort of detonation device.
“Detecting coordinated movement outside. EVAC advised,” Claire said from the other side of the room.
The assassin smiled again.
“My friends.”
The man yelled out something in Arabic just before Paulson punched him in the face, knocking him out.
Paulson quickly jumped up, and Claire sprang onto his shoulder, her remaining limbs gripping his shirt tightly, digging into his shoulder like the talons of a hawk.
She whispered into his ear, “Stinger missile detected. Armed. Firing.”
There was no time; Paulson had only one chance. He dove for an old safe in the living room that looked like it had been left over from British colonial days. Just as he wedged himself inside and closed the door, the missile exploded.
He felt the blast wave hit and reverberate through the steel walls.
The safe flipped over backwards, giving Paulson a momentary sense of weightlessness as his refuge fell first through the air and then to the floor of what must’ve been the apartment below his. He felt the impact through his whole body as he slammed against the wall of the safe, jarring his shoulder and jerking his head back. After a couple of lurching rolls, the safe finally settled, with the door facing up.
“Claire, we’re locked in. See if you can free us before they find out that we’re hiding in here. Good shooting back there, by the way.”
“Thank you, Buddy. I’ve already begun analyzing the locking mechanism.”
Claire crawled off his shoulder and started manipulating the tiny mechanisms that made up the back of the safe’s door. Everything was pitch black inside. He could barely hear the muffled sounds of men outside. He knew they would be searching through the rubble for his body. Whoever was after him were professionals and would leave nothing to chance.
“The door will be open in forty-five seconds,” Claire said. “Have you formulated an attack plan?”
Paulson still had his gun but if he just burst out of the safe without knowing where the attackers were, or just how many, then they would see him first and likely shoot him before he could get any shots off.
“We need to create a diversion away from the safe before I try to climb out. Claire, can you sneak away and get their attention? That will give me a chance.”
“Done.”
The door was unlocked, and Claire crawled out. He only managed to get a glimpse of the outside through the small crack in the door, but it looked like the entire apartment building was in flames. He waited silently for Claire to do her thing, not knowing exactly what that was. Then he heard gunfire outside.
“Now, Buddy,” Claire said through his earpiece communicator. He and Claire were always connected; she’d insisted he have the device on him at all times.
Paulson slowly opened the safe door and climbed out. Fire and smoke raged around him, and pieces of wood and brick fell from above. A huge gaping hole was all that remained of his second floor apartment. In front of him a man was moving jerkily and randomly firing an automatic weapon. He looked like a marionette being manipulated by a poorly trained puppeteer. Several other men had ducked behind debris slightly forward and on both sides of his position.
“Five hostiles in total,” Claire said. “I have one.”
Paulson snuck up behind two of the men closest to him on his right. He grabbed one around the neck in a rear naked choke and shot the other in the head. As the man in his grip slipped into unconsciousness, Paulson moved forward to the other two, using the unconscious attacker as a human shield.
One saw him coming and fired. All the shots hit the man Paulson was holding, his body jerking as the bullets slammed into him. That gave Paulson the moment he needed to get off another shot, this one striking the other attacker square in the forehead.
The last remaining hostile saw Paulson, fired a couple shots, then ran out into the street, in apparent retreat. The attacker who’d been firing randomly dropped both his arms and just stood there, swaying. His head drooped to the side, onto his shoulder.
Paulson ran to him, gun extended, prepared to fire in an instant if the man tried to raise his weapon. When he got to him, the man’s eyes were blinking incessantly and he tried to talk, but nothing but nonsense words came out. As Paulson walked to the man’s side, he saw what was causing him to act so bizarrely.
Claire was positioned on the back of his head. She had burrowed multiple probes into the man’s skull and had been controlling his muscle movements. Tiny needle-like devices penetrated into the assailant's skull. Claire withdrew her probes, the retraction making a squishing sound as the probes emerged. Tiny flecks of blood and brain matter dripped from the probe’s sharp endings. When Claire was free of him, the man collapsed and immediately began convulsing.
A cold shiver ran down Paulson’s spine. He had no idea Claire was capable of such actions. But it seemed that there was quite a bit he didn’t know about Claire these days.
“There is one hostile left,” Claire said as she retracted her probes back into her body. “He is retreating to a vehicle parked one block away. Shall we pursue?”
From the distance and over the increasing roar of the fire, Paulson could barely hear what sounded like a car’s squealing tires.
“No need, Claire.”
Paulson ran to where one of the attackers had left his gear. The Stinger missile launcher was there, with a spare missile conveniently lying beside it. He picked up everything and loaded the launcher as he ran out to the street. One lone car was on the empty road, carrying the gunman to safety. Paulson positioned the missile launcher on his shoulder, lined up the sight, and fired. A second later the car erupted in an explosion of metal and steel.
“Very good shot. But we have no one to question now,” Claire said.
“What about this guy?” Paulson gestured to the man lying prostrate on the floor, still convulsing, although with less vigor as time passed.
“I’m afraid I damaged too much of his fragile brain material during the link. He will never be able to talk and will likely die within the hour.”
“Yeah, we need to talk about this link thing, Claire,” Paulson said, concerned about her abilities and her independence. “But I doubt any of these guys would’ve told us anything anyway.”
He quickly searched the man’s body for clues to who he was or who he worked for. He also pulled off the man’s shirt, checking his body for tattoos or other identifying information. He found a Christian cross on the inside of the man’s right arm.
“That symbol is the Coptic cross,” Claire told him, though it was familiar to him. “The Copts are one of the oldest Christian sects in the Middle East. Most members live in Egypt.”
Why would a Christian group target him for assassination in Iraq? How the hell did they even know he was there? Before he could ponder any further, Claire spoke again.
“Buddy, I have urgent satellite data coming in from the Stillwater complex as well as reconnaissance-drone video. I suggest we move to a secure location to review.”
Not many of those left in the city, Paulson thought. Police sirens sounded in the distance, growing louder as they approached. Claire climbed on his shoulder, and they retreated from his burning apartment building. He stopped to help a few injured get to the street, but had no time to conduct a more thorough search for others that may be buried. The emergency crews on the way would have to take care of that. He wondered about the news reports; in all the chaos, he’d almost forgotten about the nanobot swarm.
A couple of blocks down the street they found a small open-air fruit and vegetable market. It was empty of wares at this late hour, and no one was around. He ducked inside one of the stalls and knelt in the mud and trash, shielded from peering eyes on the street.
Claire climbed down from his shoulder onto his lap, and a holographic image sprouted into the air just above her.
“This surveillance drone is positioned over the Stillwater mining site. Showing footage.”
The hologram showed the desolate landscape and gently undulating hills of Stillwater, Montana. The foreboding Beartooth Mountains lay heavy on the horizon, their sharp, rugged peaks jutting high. Out in front of the drone, tiny glittery insect-like objects flew quickly, like speeding rockets of confetti. The drone had been able to catch up to the bots.
“I’m back in contact with the White House,” Claire said.
“Good, can you show them?”
The familiar image of the situation room appeared off to the side in another hologram projection. The president, secretary of defense and other members of the elite White House security detail were hunched around a long conference table, looking into the camera.
“Buddy, glad to have you back,” President Bush said. “Looks like our drone here found your little nanobots. It’s fired a couple of missiles, but hasn’t been able to shoot them down yet. The durn things are tricky fast.”
The president looked down at the table, getting that look on his face that Buddy knew meant bad news was coming.
“You know, Buddy, we’ve been talking here, and I find it really hard to believe that these things pose such a huge threat. I mean, come on, there are only what, five or six of them? And they’re smaller than a fly. What can they really do?”
Anger rose within Paulson. “Mr. President, with all due respect, these things may seem insignificant in small numbers, but they are able to multiply. And if that happens, then we’re all dead.”
“Right.” Rumsfeld jumped into the conversation, his tone dripping with scorn. “You’ve told us that before, and we’ve all seen the videos from the future. But the truth is, Sky Hammer is an extreme measure, to be used only as a last resort. I’m not sure we’re at that point yet.”
If Paulson had been in the room with them, he would’ve had a hard time not grabbing Rumsfeld by his throat and choking sense into the man.
“Sir, I cannot emphasize this strongly enough: these things cannot be allowed to multiply. If we don’t initiate Sky Hammer now, then all is lost.”
As they were talking, the swarm dropped out of the sky and dove toward the ground. One of the men in the situation room pointed at the screen. The nanobots had disappeared into the expansive scar that was the Stillwater igneous mine.
“Dear God, no,” Buddy whispered.
“What the hell is that?” Bush said, pointing into the camera.
Before anyone could answer, something started oozing out of the barren, rocky ground. It looked like a small stream of silver flowing from a spring. Then another sprang up, then another and another. Soon the ground was dotted with tiny springs of silver. In seconds springs turned to ponds and the ponds began to merge into a lake. Then the calm flow of the silver lake exploded into a giant plume shooting high into the air.
Paulson squirmed in his dirt seat as tiny nanobots plastered the lens of the drone’s video camera. Then the scene went dark, showing nothing but static.
“We’ve lost the feed,” a man in the White House group said, stating the obvious. “Switching to satellite.”
Hundreds of miles above Earth, the satellite focused on the scene at the mine. The giant plume had grown even larger, a vast geyser of silvery-green ash erupting from a super-volcano. It was spreading rapidly.
“Mr. President, what should we do?” Rumsfeld asked.
Bush was gawking at the satellite image, mouth open.
“Mr. President?”
Bush snapped out of his momentary stupor and slammed his fist on the desk.
“Initiate Sky Ham—”
Before he could finish, a searing-bright flash filled the video screen. Then communications went down.
“Claire, what the hell was that?” Paulson asked, knowing deep down what had just happened.
“I’m sorry, Buddy, but the threat probability was too high. I chose to initiate Sky Hammer twenty-one minutes thirty-three point two seconds ago.”
Paulson gaped at the crab-like creature sitting calmly on his knee. It had just independently initiated a high altitude nuclear EMP detonation over U.S. soil.
Chapter 7
1:00 p.m., July 25, 2002
La Ciudad Celestial, Peru
“Holly Scarborough, it’s about time you found me, honey,” the other Holly said with a wry smirk on her face. She looked basically the same as Holly looked now, but a streak of white ran through the middle of her hair. The other big difference was that her missing arm had been replaced by a fully functional one, although instead of flesh colored, it was sky blue.
“Don’t be scared, dear. This video projects holographic images directly onto your optic nerve. It’s a bit unnerving at first, but you get used to it. No one else can see this but you. Let me get right to the point. The situation here is grave. There’s been an attack at Project Chronos. We are presently just over a year from E-Day. It’s actually New Year’s Day 2037. Woo hoo!”
Future Holly twirled a blue finger in the air in mock excitement.
Behind her a flurry of people were running around in a smoke-filled room, putting out fires and carrying damaged equipment. Others were moving holographic images around with their hands. Several of the holograms displayed the familiar doughnut shape of the time travel vortex generator; others showed a stream of equations. Charred burn marks covered the wall, and several men dressed in military fatigues were picking up tables and chairs that had been knocked over.
“We aren’t sure exactly what it was that came at us,” future Holly said. “It looked exactly like a child’s stuffed teddy bear but with one small difference—it wanted to kill us and destroy the base. Luckily, we’d posted a lot of security men here over the last month and armed them with the latest plasma rifles and EM pulse cannons. They were able to hold this thing off until help arrived. And the help came in the form of the little black dog you’re holding in your hands right now.”
Holly tried to look down at her hand, but couldn’t see any parts of her body.
“We don’t know the exact motivation of the teddy bear. A vortex just opened and the bear came through. It immediately tried to connect with the Chronos mainframe. That’s when the soldiers fired on it. The creature already had one leg missing, possibly from another fight in the future, but it was still able to move surprisingly fast. It killed one of the guards, but not before he was able to burn it with a plasma rifle. Then it took out two more men before another vortex opened and this toy dog jumped through. The two creatures wrestled and fought each other until the dog finally got the upper hand. Yet the teddy bear had already obtained enough control over the Chronos mainframe to initiate a new vortex. The bear jumped through it and escaped. We know he went into the past, but we don’t know exactly when. From the data we've gathered it looked like he was trying to jump to the mid-twenty tens, however the fight with the dog damaged the jump weight calculations in the mainframe so he likely ended up much further back than that."
Future Holly paused to adjust her blouse, frowning.
"Probably several hundred years further back. Which scares me.”
The whole scenario sounded crazy, but Holly had long since learned to put away her doubts when it came to bizarre messages from the future. Besides, she really liked her blue arm and the confidence her future self showed.
“We’d hoped this dog would answer a lot of our questions, but it says that it’s not programmed to provide additional information other than its primary mission, which is to pursue and destroy any infected information-gathering units—the term it used to describe the bear. So we can assume that these robot-animal things are some type of reconnaissance devices and that some are infected with a virus that makes them go nuts and want to kill. I have no idea who programmed either of these units nor what type of infection the bear has. But I can assume whoever our foe is, the force behind E-Day, likely infected the bear. And now the bear is trying to destroy Chronos."
Shit, that sounded all too familiar. Holly thought back to the infected Patrick Chen she and Jeff had to fight off just after they time jumped. He was infected with a nanovirus that transformed him into a maniacal killing machine.
Future Holly continued speaking.
“We are presently fueling up for another time jump to send the black dog back so it can continue to pursue the teddy bear. We have to approximate when the bear ended up based on our best guess as to its weight and the amount of fuel in the vortex reactor at the time that it went through. I hope our calculation puts the dog as close to the bear as possible. I don’t like sending these things back into the time stream without knowing more, but leaving the bear alone back there is too big a risk. Luckily the dog is allowing me to send this message as a failsafe in case it has been unable to destroy the bear. So, Holly, if you’re hearing this right now, then I need you to find the teddy bear and destroy it. The future of Chronos—the future of our entire race, depends on it. Encoded in this dog is a signal frequency that the bear uses for communication. The dog will send it to your portable so you can try to track it. Good luck.”
Great, like I don’t have enough on my plate already with an impending viral apocalypse and a time machine to create. Now I’ve got a killer teddy-bear-terminator-robot thingy to contend with.
The scene at the Chronos base faded away, and Holly was back in the dark cavern holding the cybernetic dog. Niles was still on the ground, just regaining consciousness from having been shocked. Javier was trying to help him up.
“I’m sorry, Niles, I need to leave now, and I have to take this with me.”
“Holly, what are you talking about? Right when I was shocked, I saw an image of you with a blue arm standing in some futuristic control room. I think you have some explaining to do. What the hell is that black dog, and what did I just see?”
The shock must’ve been a fail-safe to prevent anyone other than Holly from accessing the message. The flash Niles saw was just the start of the message; only she was able to see the whole thing. That must explain why her picture and the string theory equations were on the walls of the Incan temple. When the ancient Incans touched the cybernetic dog, they received a shock and what they would interpret as a vision. It all made sense. But how did the dog end up in Peru? Was that where the bear had gone? That was a question she would have to pursue later. Right now Niles needed an answer.
She saw no way out but the truth. There was too much evidence around, and Niles wouldn’t rest until he got some explanation.
“Here’s the deal, Niles: I’m going to be honest with you. If you tell anyone this story, no one will believe you and you’ll be laughed out of the archeology profession and branded a fraud.”
She paused as Niles rose to his feet, leaning on Javier’s shoulder and holding the flashlight out before them.
“The truth is . . . in the near future, I will help invent a time machine. This little dog”—she waved it at him—“comes from the future and was sent back in time to deliver a message to me. A world-changing message. Your Incan friends must’ve received part of that message just as you did, and not understanding it, thought it was a vision from one of their deities. The painting of me and the equations in the other room were part of what they saw in the message.”
Niles, eyes blinking, shook his head again and again.
“Holly, in normal circumstances I wouldn’t believe a word of what you just told me. So you’re right, no one else in their right mind would ever believe that story coming from me.”
He shared a look with Javier.
“Indiana Jones never had to deal with time travel,” Javier mumbled. “I don’t want my career over before it even starts. No, I won’t be telling anyone about time-traveling toy cocker spaniels.”
He laughed a little hysterically, and Holly joined him, though her laughter ended with a few tears dripping down her cheeks. Humanity being helped by toys was absurd. But the fact that it was all real shook her to the core.
“And my picture and the equations painted on the walls?” Holly asked.
Niles pressed his lips together. “I think I’ll just leave that out of my published findings about this site. And if anyone on the dig asks about them, we can just say it was part of an elaborate hoax. I don’t think any of my people will come to the conclusion that the drawings were related in any way to time travel.”
His conclusions sounded plausible.
“Very well then,” Holly said. “I’m sorry you had to get involved with this whole thing.”
As she began walking to the stone doorway, Niles turned to her and said, “That’s okay. I can’t honestly say I’m sorry. But can you at least tell me what this message from the future is about?”
Holly smiled ever so slightly and said, “Let’s just say I’m going on a bear hunt.”
Chapter 8
12:45 p.m., July 25, 2002
Las Vegas
Jeff Madison’s private plane rose up over the Las Vegas skyline. He could see all the large hotels below, glistening in the midday sun, calling out to him, enticing him, with their temptations. But Jeff had made a decision. Humanity needed him, flawed as he was.
His mind was still hazy, and he dearly wanted to do another line of cocaine just to jolt himself back into what he called reality, even though this life, this time, often seemed just like a dream.
He was staring out at the horizon, daydreaming of past and future lives, when he saw a flash in the distance. It was just over the curve of the earth, but high in the sky. The flash spread slowly across the horizon like wildfire in the clouds.
“Did you guys see that?” Jeff asked the pilots through his intercom.
“We did, sir,” Captain Daniels replied. “We’re waiting for word from the control tower, but communications seem to be disrupted.”
Great, more communication problems.
“Just continue on to San Diego and let me know when communications are back up.”
“But, sir, we should return to the Las Vegas airport until we have communications.”
“It’s urgent that we get to San Diego immediately,” Jeff said firmly. “I have an important meeting I can’t miss.”
He heard grumbling from the pilots, and the co-pilot made some comment about meeting a hooker.
Jeff turned off the intercom. He supposed he deserved such ridicule and disrespect. He hadn’t done much to deserve any sort of admiration from others over the last few years. After building up his company and his fortune, he’d slipped into that easy world of endless slacking, parties, and women. Lots of women. More than he could count. Most forgotten. All but one, that is. He tried to remember the last time he saw Holly Scarborough. It had to have been at least three years. He still thought of her easy laugh and the way she would gently brush her long blond hair behind her ears.
Jeff shook his head. He needed to clear his mind of childish delusions. Despite his and Holly’s torrid six-month love affair years ago, he knew it would never work out between them long term; they were too different. Holly was into her science and trying to save the world and Jeff was into . . . Well, what the hell was he into? He didn’t really know what his motivation was any more. Perhaps this little quest he was going on would help him regain his focus. Or perhaps it would be the end of him.
He felt that familiar craving for a drink scratching away at the back of his consciousness. But he wouldn’t give in. He knew that returning to sobriety was not going to be as easy as just flipping a switch in his mind, as he did back at the hotel. No, it was going to take effort, effort over time.
To take his mind off problems that had no easy solutions, he pulled out his portable. The device was starting to show signs of wear and tear, with scratches and a general dullness creeping over its once glossy black surface. Unfortunately, there wouldn’t be a place to repair it or buy replacement parts for years. So he had to make do with a twelve-year-old device. Still, it was among the most advanced pieces of technology on the planet. He just hoped the thing wouldn’t go on him before his company was able to complete the process of reverse engineering its components.
Jeff quickly pulled up the historical news file, something he accessed almost every day. None of the old newspapers or TV broadcasts showed any sort of atmospheric anomaly for today or any type of explosion—or any reason for such a widespread communications outage. He quickly checked tomorrow, July 26, and found nothing reported there either. Nothing but the usual celebrity gossip.
He stared out the window at the bright orange glow on the horizon, watching as the colors began changing to a darker reddish shade. Then his eyes started to close. The flight from Vegas to San Diego was just over an hour. He had a lot of sleep to catch up on, and a quick nap was what he needed right now. He slowly faded out, still wondering what was going on.
A short time later he woke to a light jostling of his shoulder.
“Mr. Madison, sir, we’ve landed in San Diego,” the flight attendant said. “Due to a high number of planes on the ground, we were rerouted to the main public terminal upon landing. Air traffic communications are back up, but all planes have been grounded. There’s been some sort of attack.”
Jeff roused himself from his sleep coma, not feeling refreshed at all. He struggled to his feet, grabbed his small carry-on bag, and headed out the door. Arrington, his ever present shadow, followed him.
An attack. That was never what you wanted to hear in an airport. Jeff walked through the main terminal at the San Diego International Airport and immediately knew things were not right. Instead of the usual mad shuffle of people rushing to catch their flights or waiting in lines, everyone was huddled around the airport TV screens. Jeff stood behind a dozen or so spectators staring at a CNN news reporter talking from a mountain peak and pointing behind her to a thick, dark plume spreading through the clear blue sky.
On the screen, below the report, the crawl read, “Nuclear bomb explodes over Montana. All communication and electronics destroyed over hundreds of miles. President to address the nation.”
Shit. They actually did it.
Jeff suspected Paulson and his team had some plan in place for the nanobot swarm. But he never thought they’d actually ever have to go through with it, at least not for another thirty-six years. Apparently the swarm had found whatever it was looking for and began to divide and spread. Jeff could only hope they’d been able to destroy all the foul creatures. If even one functioning nanobot remained, then the nuclear blast would’ve been for nothing.
Around him people were gasping in shock. One woman cried as her husband or boyfriend put his arm around her. A man in a business suit looked at Jeff and said, “Is this the end of the world?”
“No, that’s not going to happen for another thirty-six years,” Jeff said solemnly.
The businessman scrunched up his eyes and backed away.
The scene on the TV changed over to an empty podium and a room full of reporters. The White House briefing room. President Bush walked out, a grim look on his face, and stood behind the microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen, today our fellow citizens, our way of life, our very freedom came under attack in a deadly act of terror. An unknown group or groups were able to acquire a nuclear warhead and launch it from what we believe was an old modified Thor intermediate-range ballistic missile. It was launched toward major population centers in the U.S. and was intended to kill millions of Americans.”
Bush paused to look down at his notes.
“I am proud to say that our military was able to successfully engage and destroy this warhead in flight before it reached any major U.S. city. However, the warhead was armed and did detonate at a high altitude, generating an electromagnetic pulse wave. This wave has affected electronics and communications over an estimated five-hundred-mile radius. The immediate disruption of power and communication has resulted in several thousand deaths as planes lost power and crashed, and cars and trucks abruptly ceased operating, causing numerous collisions and traffic fatalities. Information is still coming in, but right now all electronic circuits in the blast radius have been completely destroyed. We ask that all citizens remain in their homes and refrain from travel as much as possible. We are working hard to restore power and other essential services. I’ve called the National Guard into the affected areas and deployed several military battalions to maintain order. A five-hundred-mile zone has been declared a federal disaster area, extending out to Portland in the west, the Canadian border in the north, Denver to the south, and Minneapolis to the east.”
Bush paused again, anger in his eyes as he stared into the camera. Jeff felt the president was glaring right into his eyes.
“This act of terror was intended to frighten our nation into chaos and retreat. But they have failed. Our country is strong. A great people has been moved to defend a great nation. I pray that we all will be comforted by a power greater than any of us, spoken of in Psalm twenty-three: ‘Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for you are with me.’ Thank you. Good evening and God bless America.”
Bush walked away from the cameras and exited through the side door as reporters yelled out questions. The group Jeff was standing with stayed silent for a moment, then everyone started talking at once. Many pulled out cellphones to contact loved ones, banging away at the keypads in frustration, apparently not able to get through.
Jeff pulled out his own portable to see if he could get Chen or Paulson, to see exactly what had happened. There was no connection. Even routing communications through his company’s satellite, he still had no luck. It seemed ground communications crisscrossing the U.S. were down, as were satellites, casualties of the EMP blast.
The tracking function on his portable was still working. However, the strange nanobot signal had grown fainter. It would be harder to find now. Maybe it, whatever it was, had been injured from the blast. Or maybe it just realized that its friends had been destroyed, and so it was hiding.
Jeff thought about the nuclear blast for a second as he walked away from the TV screen. If there was any consolation at all, it was that the explosion took place over a relatively unpopulated area. If it had happened over the Eastern seaboard, near New York, there’d have been massive blackouts and unimaginable chaos.
“Let’s get a car,” Jeff said to Arrington.
“Already done, sir. There’s a Town Car waiting for you right now.”
Always so efficient, that Arrington. He was an ex-marine with over a decade of private-security experience. He’d been working for Jeff about three years now. The men walked out of the airport and got into the car, Arrington driving and Jeff in the back. Jeff tried to get a more accurate location for the signal on his portable.
“South Twenty-eighth and Ocean View Boulevard. I’m not sure of the exact location, but that should get us close enough.”
Jeff hoped when they were within range, the signal would grow strong enough for him to get an exact track on it. Otherwise this little adventure would turn into a wild goose chase.
There was also a nagging worry in the back of his mind that maybe he should have backup. It was just him and Arrington, who carried a sidearm. But if there was some kind of nanobot here, the gun wouldn’t do them any good. They needed an EM pulse weapon at the least.
Jeff thought about waiting for backup again. There really wasn’t any time. He needed to see what had been activated by the nanobot swarm. Once he knew, he could either try to take it on himself or call in reinforcements. But if he waited, it had more time to go back into hiding, ready to strike another day.
They drove out of the airport, southeast along the waterfront. Palm trees dotted the narrow strips of land between the concrete and asphalt of the highway. The road ran along a gorgeous blue harbor full of sailboats. A huge cruise ship was docked in the distance, waiting for excited vacationers to board. As they drove, the glitzy, glass high-rises of downtown gave way to small homes and neighborhoods.
They quickly arrived at their destination. Jeff pulled up information on their location. The area was Logan Heights, not a place they wanted to be. The barrio of Logan Heights was notorious for its gang that took the same name. They were over four-hundred-members strong and extremely violent, often serving as hit men and enforcers for Tijuana cartels smuggling drugs over the Mexican border just fifteen miles away.
Jeff sure as hell didn’t want to run into any gang members, and he could tell from the graffiti on the walls of every building that he and Arrington were right in the middle of their turf.
“Where to now?” Arrington asked as he stopped on the corner of South Twenty-eighth.
Rows of small homes surrounded by chain-link fences filled the sides of the road in front of them. The signal was stronger here, but Jeff couldn’t get an exact read.
“Make a right here,” he said.
Arrington turned the car and said, “Sir, it would help if I knew what it was we were looking for. If you need a quick pick-me-up, then perhaps we should go through the usual channels.”
Arrington thought they were there to buy drugs. He knew Jeff well and when Jeff needed something, he had a go-to guy for it. A billionaire playboy couldn’t be seen out in some poor barrio scoring drugs.
“No, Chase, it’s not that. This is business related.” Jeff tried to think of a plausible story. “There was some technology recently stolen from one of my rivals. I’ve been able to track it to this neighborhood. We need to retrieve it if we can.”
Arrington gave him a wary look through the rear-view mirror. He didn’t usually ask a lot of questions, but Jeff could tell he was thinking they might be in for some trouble.
As they drove, the signal started to grow stronger, then it faded.
“Go back and make a left there.” Jeff leaned forward from the back seat and pointed.
They turned at the stop sign and drove past a run-down two-story, apartment building surrounded by small houses with tiny white-picket fences. The signal weakened again as they continued.
“Back up.”
It wasn’t exact science, but the signal seemed to be the strongest right in front of the apartment building. The structure was split up into four units, two on top and two on the bottom. A staircase ran along the side to the second floor, and dead grass and scattered weeds peppered the front yard.
“Park over there,” Jeff ordered.
“And then?” Arrington asked.
Jeff really wasn’t sure. He didn’t know what the hell had signaled the other nanobots and why it would be in Logan Heights, San Diego, in a tiny apartment building.
“We wait.”
As the minutes passed, Jeff found himself dozing off again. He woke up to Arrington’s voice.
“Sir, there’re some kids coming home from school. A few are entering the apartment building.”
Jeff checked the time—3:45 p.m. He studied the kids. They were young teenagers, likely sons and daughters of Mexican immigrants. They all stared at the Town Car as they walked by. It was certainly out of place in the neighborhood where everyone knew each other’s cars. Several of the kids pointed at them. One boy yelled to someone down an alleyway, gesturing and glancing at their car the whole time.
“We might need to move pretty soon, sir,” Arrington said firmly. “I have a strong feeling we’re going to get some company.”
Jeff watched the group closely, looking for anything out of the ordinary. One boy was lighter skinned than the others and had sandy-colored brown hair instead of the dark black that indicated Hispanic descent. He walked up the stairs of the apartment building and went inside. He came out a minute later, this time with his skateboard in hand, ran down the stairs, hoped on the board, and rolled down the street. He still had on his school backpack.
A slow beep from Jeff’s portable indicated the signal was fading.
“Follow the kid on the skateboard.”
Arrington pulled out of his parking spot just as several large muscular men in tight white tank tops and baggy jeans rounded the block. They were heavily tattooed and looked angry. They were likely the neighborhood enforcement crew who took it upon themselves to keep out strangers like Jeff and his bodyguard.
Arrington followed the skateboarder slowly at a safe distance. The kid was wearing head phones and didn’t seem to notice them. They followed for several blocks, crossing over the interstate until they eventually came to Chicano Park.
The park was probably eight acres, part of which ran under the San Diego-Coronado Bridge, and was covered with various earthwork-type art and murals. The grounds were neatly manicured, with palms and other tropical trees planted in orderly rows. Despite the park-like feel, Jeff could sense a gritty undertone. Gang-style graffiti crept into certain sections of the park, growing like insidious crabgrass into the areas with the elaborate murals depicting Mexican culture.
Arrington stopped the car on the outskirts of the park. They watched the skateboarder join a group of kids and walk past some swing sets, slides, and jungle gyms.
“We should get out here,” Jeff said. He thought briefly about just sitting in the car and observing, but at this point, time was a factor. He needed to find out what had sent the signal to the nanobots and he needed to find out fast. If there were more of the creatures around, every second he wasted being cautious and over-thinking would mean more opportunities for the little bastards to breed and spread.
Jeff and Arrington strode into the park, dodging playful screaming children and the occasional dog chasing a ball. At the far end of the park, under the concrete and asphalt of the highway overpass, was a makeshift skateboarding area. Zooming in and out of the concrete columns supporting the interstate, about a dozen teenagers were trying their best to look rebellious.
“Over there,” Jeff said, nodding in the direction of the skaters.
“What are we going to do, sir?”
Jeff wasn’t really sure. He knew the signal was coming from the boy, but he didn’t know what that meant. The teenagers eyed them suspiciously as they approached. They didn’t exactly blend in, two white guys in a Latino park in a poor section of town. To top things off, Arrington was wearing a business suit and tie, and Jeff had on a white dress shirt and tuxedo paints from his night of partying.
Jeff decided to use a direct and bold approach. Perhaps it was his addled mind still craving a quick hit of coke or a swig of Jack, or maybe it was just the urgent pressure and fear that hit him when he learned the nanobots were on the loose again.
He walked right up to the kid they’d been following.
“Son, we need to talk to you for a second. Can you come over here with us?”
“Quiénes son estas perras?” one of the teenagers said.
Jeff knew enough Spanish to recognize the phrase; they’d just been tagged as bitches.
“You know these guys, Mateo?” one of the larger teen boys asked the skateboarder in a thick accent.
The boy shook his head, staring intently at Jeff and Arrington.
“What then?” another teen yelled out. ”You two pedophiles looking for a little boy?”
“Why don’t you putas head back to the accounting office,” said another, getting a laugh out of the group. “We got nothing for you here. We know all the cops, and you two ain’t cops.”
By that time the group of men from neighborhood enforcement had reached the park. They walked over and immediately circled Jeff and Arrington. One guy with a shaved head and long black goatee that came to a point on his chin sauntered over to pose in front of them. He wore a white tank top, and his arms, chest, and neck were covered in angry tattoos. He eyed Jeff and Arrington closely, studying them up and down, then approached Jeff, stopping inches from his face.
Staring him right in the eyes, unblinking, he asked, “What do you want?”
Arrington was edgy, and Jeff could feel his tension. He could pull his weapon out at any second and this could get real ugly, real quick. Jeff wasn’t intimidated by the ganger, but he did know that in this neighborhood, at this moment, the young man was the boss.
Jeff smiled and held up his hands. “We meant you no disrespect. I’m sorry we had to come into your neighborhood like this, with no introductions. But this boy here”—Jeff pointed at the skateboarder—“he has something of mine, and I want it back.”
The younger teens gathered up around the skateboarder to protect him.
“You mean little preacher boy? Mattie? That kid is about as straight as they come. What’d he steal from you?”
“I didn’t take nothing from him, Pacho,” the skateboarder, Mattie, said.
“That’s our business,” Jeff said firmly. “I’d like to talk to him in private.”
The tattooed man’s eyes narrowed, and his head tilted slightly. He leaned in even closer, and Jeff could feel his breath on his face. Arrington took a step closer too.
“You better step the fuck back, bitch,” Pacho said to Arrington. “And you, you don’t order me to do shit, motherfucker! I’m not going to ask you again—what did he steal from you?”
“My watch,” Jeff blurted out the first thing he could think of. “I think he’s got it on him now, maybe in his bag.”
Pacho just laughed. “You mean to tell me you came all the way out here just to get your watch back? You and your little bitch look like you could buy ten Rolexes with just what’s in your wallets right now. Plus it looks like you’ve already got a new one.”
He pointed at Jeff’s portable, carefully disguised as a cheap digital watch.
“Tell you what. Why don’t I help you get your watch back for a little finder’s fee?”
Jeff knew where this was going, but he hoped he could talk his way out of it.
“How about five hundred?”
“How about you give me everything you got?” Pacho shot back with a smirk on his face. The other members of his group nodded in unison. “Then maybe I’ll think about letting you out of my barrio with your balls still attached.”
Jeff handed over his wallet and nodded for Arrington to do the same. Jeff guessed he had maybe five thousand in there, left over from the stash he took to Vegas. Pacho pulled out all the money and stuffed most of it into his pocket.
“Ooooo, there some rich motherfuckers here,” Pacho said as he passed a couple bills to his friends. “I feel like motherfucking Robin Hood.”
All the teenagers and men laughed.
“And you?” Pacho stood in front of Arrington.
Arrington looked angry and hesitated before handing over his wallet. When Pacho tried to take it, Arrington held on a little too long and a little too tightly. Pacho yanked it away and stared coldly at him.
“You better rein in your little bitch here, jefe,” he said to Jeff before turning back to Arrington. The two men stared each other down.
“What the fuck you looking at, bitch?”
Pacho was getting angry. He held Arrington’s wallet out in front of him.
“Let’s see what we have here.”
He pulled out a couple of hundred dollars, put the money in his pocket, then pulled out a picture of Arrington’s wife.
“Oooo, mami! Check this puta out.”
Pacho passed the picture to his homeys, who predictably hooted and whistled.
“You should send her over here. I’ll give her the Pacho special, bend that puta over. She deserves a taste of a real man.”
Arrington’s shoulders tightened and his jaw locked. Jeff put his hand on his arm to calm him.
Pacho smiled.
“That’s right, do what your man tells you like a good little perra.”
Arrington stared coldly before saying, “You can take the money, the credit cards, whatever. But I want my picture back.”
Pacho moved in front of Arrington, pursed his lips, and spat in his face.
That was all Arrington could take. He head-butted Pacho, shattering his nose into a bloody mess and knocking him back off his feet. Then he reached into his jacket, under his arm, pulled out his pistol, and aimed it at Pacho as he lay on the ground. Before he could get his arm fully extended, five or six of the gangers pulled out handguns. Jeff felt the cold barrel of a pistol jammed firmly into his cheek. They were surrounded.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jeff saw Mattie and some of his friends take off running.
Pacho rose to his feet, spitting blood onto the concrete, and said, “You’re going to pay for that, motherfucker.”
He pulled Arrington’s gun out of his hand and kneed him in the balls, causing the bodyguard to double forward in pain. Pacho elbowed him in the back of the head, sprawling him out on the concrete. A kick to the back of his knees and a boot to the back, and Jeff was right beside him.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Arrington whispered.
A gun touched the back of Jeff’s head. How ironic, he thought. To go so far to try to save the world, only to be killed by gangster thugs under a dirty highway overpass.
Chapter 9
4:30 p.m., July 25, 2002
Logan Heights, San Diego
Run, Mattie! Run!
Mathew David Tedrow heard the familiar voice yelling in his ear. Well, not his ear exactly. More like somewhere deep in his brain. He kicked his board into his hand and instantly his legs jerked into action.
Faster, Mattie! Faster!
As he sped out of Chicano Park, something clicked within Mattie’s brain—his magical switch, he called it—and within seconds he was running faster than any human on the planet.
Ten years ago he and his mother lived in the Branch Davidian compound in Waco, Texas. Mattie’s father, David Koresh, had been the leader of the group. But the FBI and ATF had attacked them, calling his father a crazy cult leader. They said he’d been abusing children and stockpiling weapons for some type of attack on the government. Mattie was only five at the time, so he didn’t remember everything, just that his father was very loud and strong, and people in the compound treated him like some sort of messiah.
Mattie thought back to the last time he saw his father. He told Mattie he needed to take care of his mother and presented him with his favorite toy, a stuffed Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle doll. Raphael. At the time, Mattie thought it was just a toy. But he later learned it was much more than that. David Koresh died that day, burned in flames as government tanks ignited tear gas in their compound. He remembered watching everything on TV that night.
Mattie also remembered the men that saved him and his mother, and most of the other Davidians. The real hero was a member of the Davidians named Charlie. Mattie could still see his face as he rode off into the sunset on a white stallion.
Of course, none of that mattered now. They’d found him and Raphael.
Mattie glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone else was following him. He was still running full speed and barely breathing faster than if he’d been sitting down. He could run like this for hours. He threw his skateboard down and hopped on. He figured those two men, whoever they were, were getting properly introduced to the barrio by Pacho and his crew right about now. But Mattie knew that even if these two were silenced, others would follow.
Raphael had been telling him about this day, and he was ready. He needed to find his mom and they both needed to leave. He would miss his stepfather and his friends, but if he stayed, they would all be in danger.
Mattie zoomed through the streets on his skateboard, swerving in and out of cars, until he reached his destination, an old abandoned home on one of the back streets in the neighborhood. He hopped off his board and jumped over the chain-link fence protecting the front yard. The grass was thick and overgrown almost up to his waist. Several vagrants called the place home, and crackheads and heroin addicts used the space to pump their bodies full of chemicals. But Mattie knew they wouldn’t mess with him.
He rounded the house to the backyard, jogged over to a small palm tree, and opened his backpack. Inside, smiling at him, was Raphael, as always wearing his red mask and black belt. Mattie kept him clean so his bright green fur and yellow chest were soft and shiny.
You’re doing well, Mattie. Get your bag, then we can head to the airport. I’ve already ordered tickets for us.
Mattie pulled out a small hand shovel he’d hidden by the tree and started digging. A foot or so down he uncovered a metal box that contained about a hundred dollars, a change of clothes, and some snack bars. He’d managed to save the money from working odd jobs and cutting grass around the neighborhood. There were also a few keepsakes in the box, pictures of his mother, and one old picture of his father. He grabbed everything, threw it all into his backpack, and turned to walk back to the street.
Before he could take a step, he found a woman blocking his path.
How did she sneak up on him like that?
She was pale and raven haired with piercing blue eyes and dressed in a skintight black outfit—beautiful in a cold way, but he could tell this was no normal woman. Everything about her felt like death. This woman was a killer.
He stepped away from her and turned to run to the other side of the house. But before he could get very far, a muscular black man came around the corner and blocked his path.
“That’s far enough, son,” the man said in a deep booming voice as he stepped closer. “We need to ask you a few questions.”
“About what?” Mattie asked, fear creeping into his voice. “Who are you?”
“You need to come with us,” the man said, holding his hands to his side, palms facing out toward Mattie, inching ever closer. “I’m Petty Officer Latrell Banks, but everybody calls me Tiny, and this is Agent Milena Mijatovic. There’s been a little misunderstanding we need to clear up.”
“My mother told me not to go anywhere with strangers. I need to ask her about this.”
Mattie stepped back as both Tiny and Milena closed in on him. Of the two, he felt a greater fear toward the woman. She showed no emotion and just stared at him, unblinking.
“We were just at your house, son. Your mom is with us now, with Lieutenant Evangelista,” Tiny said.
A Hispanic man with short dark hair and a thick goatee walked around the corner of the old house with his mom. Her arms were handcuffed behind her back, and the man shoved her forward roughly. Her right eye was swollen shut and turning black.
As soon as she saw Mattie, she screamed, “Run, Mattie!”
Anger boiled in him at the abuse his mother had taken. He looked at Tiny, who was trying to fake a welcoming smile, his arms still outstretched, then at Milena, who walked forward expressionless, unhesitating. Then he glanced at Evangelista, who held his mother as she twisted and jerked, trying to escape.
Time slowed.
Mattie’s mind began its calculations. Billions of data points, billions of possibilities and their outcomes spun through his head like a tornado.
He sprang into action, moving first to the large black man, the closer and easier target. Before Tiny could even blink, Mattie was on him, between his outstretched arms, punching him firmly in the jaw. The uppercut sent Tiny’s chin jerking to the sky and flipped him backwards, off his feet. His jaw broke as several teeth shot out from his mouth and a small bloody piece of his tongue went flying upward. Tiny landed in the high grass, instantly unconscious, blood dripping from the side of his mouth.
The couple of seconds he took to dispatch Tiny gave Milena her chance to pounce. She jammed her knee into his back and smashed his face into the grass.
Immediately Mattie could feel the surging of enhanced senses—his muscles tensing, his brain calculating and processing faster than he knew to be normal. He could smell the grass. He could hear the worms below him digging through the soil. He saw a tiny ladybug making her way across a long blade of grass. His hands pressed into the ground, and he sprang up into a pushup position and kicked his knees to his chest. Milena’s weight on his back was just a feather as he bucked like a wild unbroken stallion.
She flipped backwards, spinning in the air. Before she could land, Mattie side-kicked her in the stomach, catapulting her into the back of the old house. She flew through the rotting door as pieces of wood and plaster exploded around her. Inside, covered in dust, she heaved from the kick to her stomach, throwing up all over the floor. Then her eyes narrowed as she glared at Mattie and reached to her back.
He jumped through the shattered back door of the house, moving with lightning speed as Milena brought her arm forward, holding a gun. He was on her before she could take aim, grabbed her arm, twisted it back, and struck the back of her elbow with his palm, breaking bones and wrenching the gun from her hand. She screamed in pain and pulled a knife out from her boot with her other hand.
But Mattie was quick. He had the gun in his hand and swung it around, smacking Milena across the face and spinning her around again. He grabbed hold of her hand and twisted the knife from her grasp. And yet, cold fire still raged behind her eyes, and a tiny smile traced across her face as she reached into her jacket.
Mattie wasn’t going to wait around for any more of her tricks. He grabbed her face and threw her across the room. She collided with the wall, smashing a hole in it. More plaster fell from the ceiling. She landed beside two drug addicts who barely even looked up, their minds addled in a drug-laden stupor. Milena slumped to the ground, finally unconscious.
“That’s enough!” yelled out the man standing at the back of the broken house holding a gun to his mom’s head. Evangelista.
“On your knees and put your hands behind your head,” Evangelista ordered. “Slowly now.”
Mattie’s senses expanded out into the room, looking for anything he could use to his advantage. A fly buzzed lazily around his head. The crackheads lay in the corner, frantically taking another hit from the pipe they were sharing, like a pack of wild dogs fighting over a bone. Dirt and debris from the decaying, wrecked house covered the floor.
He crouched down to one knee, putting both hands on the ground and stared at his attacker. Concentrating, he could hear Evangelista’s heighted heartbeat. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead into his eyes. Evangelista blinked.
That half second was all Mattie needed.
He reached forward, grabbed a small rusty nail from the floor, and flicked it as hard as he could at Evangelista.
The rusty nail flew like a bullet, hitting the man between the eyes. His head jerked back violently as the nail drove into his skull. His arm went limp, and he dropped his gun and his hold on Mattie’s mom, falling instantly unconscious to the floor.
“Mom, Mom, are you okay?” Mattie said frantically as he jumped to his feet and rushed to her.
“Yes, dear. Do you have any idea who these people are?”
“I don’t know, but it may have something to do with the Davidians.”
They shared a silent look. They’d both known this day might come. Someone from the government must’ve found out that they didn’t die in the fire in Waco all those years ago. Now they were making sure no one ever found out about the cover-up.
His mom nodded. “You have your bag? Good. We can’t go back to the house; they’ll be waiting for us there. We need to just go now. Is Raphael ready?”
Mattie nodded. His mother knew all about the turtle and what he was capable of. She believed him to be an angel sent by his father to watch over them.
“Let’s get to the airport. After that we can make our way to one of the safe houses. We should go to Augusto’s first. He’ll drive us to the airport.”
Mattie and his mom ran out of the abandoned house, jumping over another junkie sprawled out on the floor. Mattie grabbed his skateboard and tossed it into the street.
“Jump up on my back, Mom.”
She grabbed him tight around the neck and wrapped her legs around his waist, then Mattie hopped on the skateboard. Augusto’s place was just a block away. They sped off down the street. Before they could make it to the end of the block, a black SUV with tinted windows came screeching to a halt in front of them.
“Hang on tight, Mom!”
Mattie kicked at the street beside the moving board, giving them a turbo boost of speed. As they zoomed toward the SUV, several men wearing masks and dressed in black jumped out and fired automatic weapons at them. Mattie swerved from side to side, dodging their frantic fire. Then he kicked the back of his board and jumped into the air. His mother held onto his neck as tight as she could. His board flew like a rocket into the open door of the SUV, hitting one of the gunmen and smashing his face.
They flew over the SUV, and he flipped in midair, catching his mom as soon as his feet hit the ground. He placed her down gently and sprang at the SUV. One of the men was able to turn and fire a shot off before Mattie could get to him. He felt the burning pain and nausea from the bullet piercing his stomach.
But he didn’t stop.
He was enraged that these men were trying to kill them. He felt his strength, speed, and stamina hit another level.
Then the world slowed once again.
He could see the tiny muscles in the man’s index finger flex as he pulled the trigger of his gun. Before another bullet was fired, Mattie was on him.
This time he punched with all his strength—using more power than a hundred grown men.
His knuckles hit the man’s gas mask and goggles, but instead of his head jerking back from the impact, Mattie’s hand broke through the mask and into the man’s nose, obliterating it.
But his hand didn’t stop there. The momentum of his punch was too strong.
His fist continued past the nose and into the man’s skull, bone and cartilage cracking and splintering out in slow motion. In the blink of an eye, Mattie had punched his fist through the man’s skull, splattering brain matter out the back of his head. He pulled his slime-covered hand out with a squishing sound.
He was trembling and on the verge of throwing up, but there was no time to think about the horror of what he’d just done because the driver turned and was trying to shoot him. He moved, his body reacting without thought now, and punched through the back of the driver’s seat. His arm extended through the seat and out through the driver’s stomach. The man made a horrible retching sound as his intestines sprayed all over the seat and steering wheel. Mattie pulled his hand back, bits and pieces of spine and stomach clinging to it.
He started to gag. He’d just killed two men in the most gruesome way he could ever imagine. He wanted to cry. Then he looked over at his mother. Her eye was swollen shut and she stared in horror. She was holding her arm where she’d been shot.
The sadness and horror faded to anger. These men were trying to kill him and his mother. They deserved no mercy.
“Mom, hurry; get in the car.”
Mattie threw the men out of the SUV. He needed to get his mother to safety. He helped her into the car as she grimaced, then he hopped into the driver’s seat and stepped on the gas. As they sped off, Mattie pulled his T-shirt up and examined his stomach. The bullet wound was burning and itching and caked with blood. He ran his fingers over it, and the skin felt rubbery. It had a strange blue tint to it.
“Dear God! Were you shot?” his mom said, her voice high with panic.
“I think I’m okay—it seems to be healing over. What about you?”
She checked her arm.
“It’s just a flesh wound; I’ll be fine. Let’s just get out of here.”
He drew his T-shirt back down, and a bullet fell to the floor of the SUV. His mother leaned down to pick it up and held it out so they could both see it. The bullet had holes in it, like something had eaten part of it away. Mattie wondered if that was the bullet that had been inside of him.
Mattie, change of plans. Those men are tracking us. Instead of the airport we need to go to the docks, the Port of San Diego. I’ve loaded the data into the GPS of this vehicle.
“Mom, we need to go here,” Mattie said, pointing at the GPS screen in the middle of the dashboard.
“Is Raphael talking to you?”
Mattie nodded.
Fifteen minutes later they arrived at the B Street Pier Cruise Terminal. Docked in front of them was a huge cruise ship, the Golden Princess.
On the ship you’ll be posing as Francis Pinkerton and son Mark. I’ve delayed the actual Pinkertons at the airport so you can easily take their place and use their room. But you’ll need to sneak on board. There is no time to forge fake IDs. I’ll take care of everything once you get on the ship.
Mattie parked the car. He kept looking around, expecting another SUV to pull up with gunmen blocking their way, but none came. They walked up to the cruise ship, along the dock, and ducked behind some containers. Mattie scanned the area and found where they were loading the ship with supplies. Several men were standing around huge crates, talking and not paying attention to what was going on around them. One tired-looking worker pushed a load of vegetables up a ramp into the ship. A lone security officer was snoozing at his post, sitting in a white plastic chair, his head lolling back and forth on his chest.
Mattie searched for anyone who might try to stop them, but there was no one. And that bothered him. It was too easy. Something was not right; he could sense it. Their pursuers had been too vigilant and too highly organized to have been thrown off the scent this easily. Of course the first two men who’d come after him weren’t so organized. Those clowns looked like they had no idea what they were doing.
Well, they couldn’t wait; they needed to move. After the man pushing the vegetables made it inside the ship, Mattie and his mom ran up the ramp and hid behind more containers. Inside other workers were entranced by a small TV broadcasting the latest news about the attack on the US. Video footage showed a plane crashing into a corn field. While the workers were distracted Mattie and his mom were able to slip past them and get on the cruise ship. From there, they slunk around inside, dodging into storage rooms if they heard anyone coming.
Eventually they made it out of the crew area and into a part of the ship where a few other passengers were looking for their rooms. They were getting quite a few stares, and offers of help, Mattie with a blood caked T-shirt and face, and his mother with her eye swollen completely shut and cradling a bleeding arm where she’d been shot.
“We need to get you to the infirmary,” Mattie said to her. “You might need stitches.”
"It's just a flesh wound, dear. I'll be fine. We're stowaways remember. The last thing we need is anyone asking questions about a gunshot. They would definitely call the cops then."
She was right. They would have to make due with some over the counter medical supplies from the drugstore on the main deck. Mattie bought a pair of cheap sunglasses for his mother at one of the shops and went to find a public restroom where they could wash up and change clothes.
Digging into his backpack, Mattie saw that Raphael was safe and staring at him with his unmoving eyes, his permanent grin showing teeth on both sides of his mouth.
Excellent work, Mattie. We seem to have escaped from those men, but I am detecting an anomalous signal nearby. Be vigilant.
“An anomalous signal. Great. What does that mean?”
Unknown at this time.
When Raphael didn’t know something, it was never good.
As he was changing his clothes, Mattie thought back to his awakening, as he’d eventually come to call it. He wasn’t sure exactly what Raphael had done to him. He just remembered being scared when the turtle probed into his ears a few years after his father had died. He felt an itching inside his skull, like tiny little creatures were moving around in there, then things, all sorts of things, suddenly became clearer. The world opened up to him, his senses expanded. It was like seeing and hearing for the first time.
He could think much faster, solve problems much easier, and his reaction time, strength, coordination, and physical speed went off the charts. Then there was the healing. Cuts would disappear immediately, and Mattie never got sick anymore, not even a cold.
He went from being the last guy picked for a neighborhood basketball game to starting on his high school team as a freshman. And he wasn’t just good at basketball, he was good at everything. Mattie had Raphael to thank for all of it.
After cleaning up, he met his mom. She'd managed to bandage her wounded arm and cover it up with a long sleeve shirt she'd bought at the souvenir shop. They both looked and felt refreshed. The happy and excited passengers mingling around them helped lighten their moods. Even though they’d been through a traumatic experience, Mattie couldn’t help but enjoy their surroundings.
Your room will be ready in about an hour.
Mattie smiled. Raphael would take care of everything.
“I’m going up to the top, Mom.” He needed to get out into the fresh air and calm down after what they just went through.
“Okay, I’ll meet you up there in a few minutes. I need to lay down for a while in one of the lounge areas.”
She looked a little pale. He hoped some rest would help.
Mattie made his way up to the deck and dropped into a chair beside the pool. He set his backpack beside the chair and took off his shirt. His bullet wound had completely healed, with not even a scar. Amazing. A cool ocean breeze ruffled his hair as the late afternoon sun touched his cheeks. His eyes started to close as the stress of the day began to release from his body.
“Hello, Mathew.”
Mattie was jolted to attention by a woman’s voice. She was sitting in a deck chair right beside him, wearing a bikini top and shorts. She was very pretty with soft, straight blond hair and green eyes. She was probably in her mid-thirties and very fit.
She was missing her right arm just below the elbow.
“We need to talk,” she said calmly.
Alert, Mattie! Run! Run!
Before Mattie could move, something incredibly fast flew past him and landed on the deck of the pool a couple of feet away from his chair. He stared at the thing as it crouched in front of him.
It was a black cocker spaniel, but a toy, not a real dog.
Mattie heard his bag unzip behind him, and Raphael climbed out and crawled forward, glaring at the black dog. The woman’s eyes widened in shock.
“My God,” she whispered.
The toy dog spoke, "I see you've got a new skin, R-3. Didn't like being a teddy bear?"
"I prefer Ninja Turtle," Raphael said.
No more running, Mattie. It’s time I faced Model R-4. We have unfinished business. Don’t worry, though. I’ve had over four hundred years to think of ways to destroy him.
The dog growled, and Raphael surged forward.
Chapter 10
4:35 p.m., July 25, 2002
Logan Heights, San Diego
The cold steel barrel of the pistol dug into the back of Jeff’s skull, jamming his face into the concrete.
“Wait, wait. Don’t do this. I can get you more money. Lots of money.” Jeff didn’t want to beg for his life, but there was too much at stake right now, and he was scared.
“Ah, we’re going to make a little trip to the ATM, puta,” Pacho barked, drops of blood and spit hitting the ground from his broken nose. “But first I’m going to cut up this motherfucker, slowly.”
Jeff heard the sound of a switchblade flicking open. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Pacho squatting in front of Arrington. The gangster scraped the blunt end of the blade across the bottom of Arrington’s eye.
“How ’bout an eye for an eye, motherfucker. Or in this case, an eye for a nose.”
Pacho’s boys laughed.
A shot silenced their laughter, echoing off the concrete overpass above them. The man standing over Jeff jerked and fell to the side. Jeff and Arrington both jumped to their feet. The gangbangers frantically searched in all directions, waving their guns in the air, trying to find something to aim at.
Another shot sounded and another banger’s head exploded and he collapsed onto the concrete. The other Logan Heighters started firing randomly. Another head shot took down a guy standing in front of Pacho, spraying blood and pieces of skull all over his tank top and onto Jeff’s white dress shirt. The bangers started running.
Pacho gritted his teeth and snarled, “Something to remember me by, puta!”
He jabbed his knife toward Arrington’s chest, but the bodyguard was too fast. He dodged to the side, the blade slicing the outside of his forearm. He used Pacho’s momentum to pull him forward and off balance. Pacho fell to the ground again and dropped the knife, which went spinning off on the concrete.
He looked furious, hatred filling his eyes as he glared at Jeff and Arrington. But he knew he’d lost this fight as he glanced up, scanning the overpass and the surrounding buildings. Then he too jumped up and ran, sprinting out of the park without looking back.
Jeff and Arrington stood watching the gangbangers scatter in all directions, thankful to be alive.
“Did you call in backup and not tell me?” Arrington asked.
“No, I still don’t have any cell service.”
“Who then?”
“I think we’ll find out soon enough.”
As he spoke, four men dressed in all black, faces covered with dark masks, emerged from behind the overpass columns, like urban ninjas. They were heavily armed with assault rifles.
One of the men approached. “Mr. Madison, Mr. Arrington. We’ve been instructed to take you to a safe location.”
“Under whose orders?” Jeff asked, not sure of these masked warriors.
“Lieutenant Commander Charles Paulson.”
Jeff nodded. He could always count on Paulson to save his ass.
“Are you tracking the signal?”
“Yes, sir,” the soldier replied. “But we can take it from here. We need to remove you both from danger.”
“Okay.”
Jeff was more than happy to leave things in the soldiers’ capable hands. They were obviously an elite squad, well equipped and trained to handle a crisis. Jeff and Arrington followed them to a black SUV parked outside Chicano Park. A medic treated Arrington’s cut, which wasn’t deep.
As they were driving, the soldiers received updates over their radios. Apparently another part of the group was pursuing the skateboarder. Several minutes passed and from what Jeff could make out from the chatter, the boy was cornered at a house several blocks away. The other team was going in for the capture but moments later, all communication ended.
“Evangelista, Banks, Mijatovic, can you hear me? What is your status? Over.” One of the men in the SUV repeated his call several times. “Team Alpha is down. I repeat Team Alpha is down. Team Beta moving to intercept target.”
A man turned to Jeff and Arrington.
“We need to drop you two off here for safety reasons. Hide in the bushes. This target has already taken out three of our best agents with his bare hands; we’re coming up on him now.”
"What the hell is going on, Jeff?" Arrington asked frantically, by this point clearly realizing that this whole expedition was not business related.
Jeff tried to calm him down, "I'll brief you later, when we get the hell out of here."
“There he is,” another masked man yelled out.
The SUV skidded to a halt in front of the skateboarder, and Jeff and Arrington climbed out to hide in nearby bushes. Jeff knew instantly this was no normal boy. He moved faster than humanly possible, taking out all three armed men effortlessly with gruesome death blows. He moved just like the evil time-jumping Patrick Chen they’d fought all those years ago outside of Lechuguilla Cave.
Jeff’s heart paused as he waited for the boy to throw the bodies of the soldiers out onto the street and speed off in the SUV. He and Arrington climbed out from cowering behind the bushes and rushed over to inspect the bodies. It was a ghastly sight. One of the men had been punched through the stomach, the other through the head. Blood and guts were all over the street. Jeff felt like throwing up. Arrington did.
“What the hell,” Arrington said between heaves.
“That boy isn’t human,” Jeff replied.
“No shit,” Arrington said, puking again and turning his back to the dead men.
“The only thing that can stop him is an EM pulse cannon.”
“Well, in case you didn’t notice, we don’t have one of those.” Arrington was never sarcastic, but he’d been pushed to his limits.
“No, and there’s no way to contact somebody to get one here soon enough.”
"Soon enough for what? You still haven't told me shit!" Arrington was getting pissed now.
"Okay, Chase." Jeff decided it was time to come clean and give up some of what he knew. "I'm tracking a signal that may be related to the attack earlier. I believe the boy has something on him, or in him for that matter, that could pose a threat to us all."
"You mean the nuclear attack?" Arrington looked horrified.
"Yes."
"Listen, Mr. Madison, this is way outside my pay grade," Arrington held his hands up and backed away. "We need to call the military or FBI in on this."
"How?" Jeff responded abruptly. They didn't have much time, and each ticking second gave the boy and any nanobots or other threats he may be carrying a chance to get away. "All comm lines are down. And in case you didn't notice, these military guys didn't fare so well against the boy. It's just us."
"But what can we do that this black ops team couldn't?" Arrington waved his hand at the dead men.
"I've dealt with things like the boy before. I know what to expect and how to stop it. I can't explain any more than that. You just have to trust me."
Arrington hesitated for a second to make up his mind, then nodded.
Jeff talked a good game, but he had no idea what to do. They couldn’t engage the boy in a fight since he couldn’t be stopped with conventional weapons. But they still needed to know what he was up to and where he was going. If he got too far away, the signal they used to track him would be lost. They needed to press forward.
“We need to keep following this kid, this . . . thing,” Jeff said. “And when communications are back up, we need to call in reinforcements with a pulse cannon.”
“What if it sees us again?”
“We’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t. Let’s head back to the Town Car before they get too far away.”
Jeff and Arrington ran a few blocks back to where they’d left the car. Luckily none of Pacho’s gang was around, although police sirens were blasting as local law enforcement descended on the bloody scene. They drove out of Logan Heights as an army of police cars rolled past them.
“I’ve still got the signal,” Jeff said, looking down at his portable.
About fifteen minutes later they pulled into the parking lot at San Diego Harbor. A cruise ship was docked in front of them, rising several stories into the blue Southern California sky.
Jeff and Arrington watched from a safe distance as the boy and woman snuck onto the ship. It looked like they were going to make their escape by sailing off into the sunset on the Golden Princess.
The two men were easily able to follow them, sneaking past the snoozing security guard and his lollygagging companions. Jeff kept his distance from the boy and woman. This close, he could get a clear tracking signal and since they were on a ship, he didn’t need to worry about the boy getting too far away.
Once they were in the main passenger area, Jeff thought it would be a good idea to head to the top deck of the ship where they could get an overview of their surroundings. Passengers had begun to board and everyone was happy and excited about their trip. A horn blast signaled that the last of the passengers were on board and the cruise ship was departing. A young couple stood beside them, arms around each other, smiling, obviously very much in love. Jeff hadn’t felt the way they appeared to feel in a long, long time. He missed it.
“There he is,” Arrington said, breaking up Jeff’s frivolous daydreaming.
Down below them, lounging beside the pool, was the boy. His backpack lay beside him. He looked like he was dozing. A woman sat across from him.
Could it be? No! Impossible. What the hell was Holly Scarborough doing here?
Jeff couldn’t believe his own eyes as a rush of old feelings came pouring back. She must’ve tracked the signal just as he had. But she didn’t know what she was dealing with here. She didn’t know this boy was another of the infected, like the evil Chen they’d killed.
He wanted to yell out to her that she was in danger, but before he could open his mouth, he saw her talking to the boy. They were too far away to hear, but whatever it was, Jeff could tell from the boy’s body language that he didn’t like what he was hearing.
Jeff leaned forward, hoping to get Holly’s attention. Only . . . He blinked.
A black blur had flown across the deck and landed in front of Holly and the boy. It looked like a black cat, but it was hard to tell from this distance. Then the boy’s backpack opened and out crawled a green Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.
“What the hell is going on?” Arrington asked.
Jeff shook his head. He had no idea, but whatever it was, Holly was right in the middle of it. She was in danger, and he had to do something.
Chapter 11
6:10 p.m., July 25, 2002
Cruise Ship Golden Princess, Port of San Diego
Holly was shocked to see the turtle emerge from Mattie’s backpack; they’d been expecting a teddy bear. The robot must’ve disguised itself. No matter—it was unmistakable that what they were dealing with was no children’s toy. Nor did it move like any robot she’d ever seen. Jerky, halting movements had been replaced with fluid, lifelike ones.
The turtle—Holly knew it was Raphael because of the R on his belt—pounced on the cocker spaniel that Holly had started calling Lady. Lady jumped and the animals collided in the air before crashing on the deck with a thud.
Holly and Mattie sprang from their lounge chairs as the animals spun around in a blur of black and green fur. Each was grasping the other’s limbs, trying to rip them off. Lady’s eyes burned fiery red and beams shot out from them as she mounted the turtle. Raphael dodged to the side and the lasers seared the deck. Holly could smell the burned wood as smoke drifted into the air.
Lady fired her laser again, this time striking Raphael in the center of his body. But the turtle was covered in some type of shielding, and the laser simply bounced off and shot over Holly’s head.
A few passengers had gathered around to check out the commotion. Most were smiling and laughing, thinking the toy fight was part of a show.
The animals struggled, but neither creature could gain the upper hand. They appeared to be evenly matched. Raphael threw Lady into the pool and the crowd laughed and clapped. Then the turtle looked at Mathew. The boy ran and grabbed his toy, then sprinted to the other side of the ship. Before Holly could even flinch, Mathew jumped up, placed his foot onto the top rail, and dove off the ship, flipping perfectly in midair.
Holly ran to the rail as Lady burst out of the pool. Lady had survived for over four hundred years, so she was without a doubt waterproof. Holly and the cocker spaniel stood on the side of the deck peering down. Out in the ocean, several stories below them, Mathew and the turtle were leaping through the water like dolphins.
How could the boy survive such a leap and then swim like that? Holly scanned the horizon, trying to determine their destination. Not far away a large Navy vessel was churning along, heading out to open sea. She knew the San Diego Naval base was nearby and that the ship was probably headed out for some military exercise.
Not good.
Holly squinted to get a better look at the ship and recognized that it was an amphibious assault ship with the designation LHD-2 painted on its side. The flat deck of the vessel was covered in an array of aircraft, from jet fighters to helicopters.
“Oh no,” Holly whispered.
Lady jumped off the deck and into the water after the two escapees.
Someone grabbed Holly’s arm from behind. She turned and found Jeff Madison standing in front of her. Jeff Madison.
“What are you . . . ?” Holly paused, guessing that Jeff had probably followed the same signal that led her to Mathew.
“Holly, that boy is not a boy. I think he may be infected with the same nanovirus that the Patrick Chen from our time period had. And you remember all too well what he was capable of.”
Holly didn’t want to think back to that time. She’d lost her arm to the nanobot swarm, and her friend and colleague, a man she’d known for years, had been turned into a crazed killing machine with superstrength and self-healing abilities. If this boy had the same affliction, there’d be no stopping him.
“What do you know about that Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle?” Holly asked.
“This is the first time I’ve seen it. I was tracking the signal and it led me here. And that toy dog?”
“An information retrieval unit from the future, designated Lady. It won’t tell me much more than that, other than it was sent here to stop an infected teddy bear, which apparently now inhabits the body of the Mutant Turtle. As for the boy, Lady identified him as Mathew David Tedrow, who supposedly died ten years ago in Waco, Texas.”
The whole thing sounded beyond crazy as it came out of Holly’s mouth. Why the hell would someone from the future make toy robots like this? If they were supposed to be like terminators, then shouldn’t they be big and muscular and talk with a stilted Austrian accent?
Other passengers, who still thought they were watching a show, looked over the railing, pointing and smiling as the boy swam away.
“Sir, look,” said the man standing beside Jeff. He looked like ex-military and like Jeff, he was dirty and disheveled.
All three of them stared out at the assault ship bristling with advanced weaponry.
“I believe that’s the USS Essex,” the man—Jeff’s bodyguard?—said. “What happens when they get to it?”
“Holly, this is Chase Arrington. Chase, Holly Scarborough.” Jeff introduced them without turning away from the naval ship. “That destroyer is packing a huge arsenal. Whatever the boy and turtle have planned, it can’t be good.”
“It seemed like they were just trying to get away, stay hidden,” Arrington said.
“That just means they’re planning something in the future,” Holly replied. “What, I have no idea.”
“We need to catch them now,” Jeff said firmly.
The ship continued out of the harbor, but Holly could tell that it was slowly tracking away from the Essex.
“We need to get this ship moving in the same direction as that destroyer if we plan on catching them,” she said.
“We need to get to the bridge,” Jeff said urgently to Arrington. “Chase, we may need to use force. Are you okay with that?"
"If it means we can avert another terrorist threat, then yes. I'm ready."
"Good. Come on, Holly.”
The three bolted from the railing as Mathew, Raphael, and Lady continued swimming toward the destroyer.
They weaved through smiling passengers in a frantic search for the bridge. Holly spotted a crewman giving a tour to a small group and asked him where it was.
“I’m going there right now, ma’am,” he said cheerfully. “If you’d like, you can join the tour.”
Holly and the two men fell in behind the passengers—an elderly man and woman moving in slow motion, a young couple holding hands, and an extremely overweight family with two young boys who kept punching each other in the arms.
Moments later the entire group was inside the bridge. A couple of crew members hovered over glowing electronic panels. The tour guide began explaining how the various control panels guided the ship. It all looked like of rows of knobs and buttons to Holly.
Jeff looked at Arrington and nodded. The bodyguard pulled out his gun and pointed it at the officer sitting in the captain’s chair.
“This is an emergency,” Arrington said calmly as he held the gun at the crewman’s head. “We need to divert the ship.”
Everyone in the room gasped, and the obese mother screamed.
“Stay calm,” Holly said, trying to allay their fears. “You’re all going to be okay.”
“That way,” Jeff said sternly to the shaking crewman manning the controls. He pointed in the direction of the destroyer. “And faster.”
The crewman pushed the throttle forward and the engine hummed with more power, but Holly could barely tell that the ship changed speed.
“Why aren’t we turning?” Jeff asked.
“Sir, this is a cruise ship, not a speedboat,” the nervous crewman responded. “Our maximum speed is twenty-four knots.”
Holly and the others waited as the giant ship slowly turned and minutes later set in on a collision course with the Essex.
Holly was scared; they'd actually taken hostages! They had no authority to do any of this since they weren’t police or military. She wished there was some way to get in touch with Paulson—he’d be able to handle this situation better than they could. What the hell were they going to do when they caught up to a battleship?
As the Golden Princess slowly inched closer to the Essex, horns began to blare from the assault vessel and an alert came in over the radio.
“Golden Princess, you seem to be diverting from your set cruising line. Everything okay over there, or is the crew just catching the early buffet?”
The sailor on the other end chuckled. Obviously they didn’t think the cruise ship was any danger to them.
Jeff grabbed the microphone.
“USS Essex, this is the Golden Princess. We believe there is an imminent threat to your ship. We’ve come to warn you.”
There was a pause on the other end.
“Who is this? What type of threat are you talking about?”
Holly and Jeff shared a long look before he said, “This is Jeffrey Madison, CEO of Madison Defense, one of the top government weapons contractors. There is a prototype weapon that is malfunctioning and we believe it’s boarded your ship.”
Holly relaxed a bit. That was smart thinking on Jeff’s part. Even though he didn’t have a military rank, he still had the ear of many of the top brass and that should carry some weight. However, Jeff had done little over the last few years that would earn any respect from the military.
“One moment, Mr. Madison,” said the unnamed sailor.
Seconds later an older man’s voice came over the speaker. “This is Captain Ronald Evans, commander of the USS Essex. Mr. Madison, if that is really you, this better not be a joke. What type of weapon are you talking about here?”
“Sir, I assure you it’s no joke. The weapon is . . . nontraditional. It’s . . . ” Jeff paused, looking to Holly for inspiration. She held up her hands and shrugged. “It’s a robotic infiltration unit, disguised as a child’s toy, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, to be exact.”
A lot of laughing came across the radio.
“Mr. Madison, you’re shittin’ me. You’re telling me that the most advanced battleship in the world is under threat from a toy turtle? And you’re pursuing it on a cruise ship?”
The laughter rang out even louder.
“Mr. Madison, I suggest you put the captain on the line and let us straighten this out. I’m sure you can find a martini and a big-breasted blonde down by the pool to keep you occupied.”
Raucous laughter erupted from the command center of the Essex. Jeff turned red and looked furious, his jaw tightening. Holly felt sorry for him. Of course he had brought it on himself with his womanizing and carrying on. Both were reasons they broke up all those years ago.
“What the hell is that?” Captain Evans said, talking to someone on his bridge. “Who the hell is this kid? Get him off the bridge—”
Shots were fired, and men yelled in confusion. Then the radio went silent.
“We need to get on that ship,” Jeff said firmly, trying to shake off his embarrassment.
“What are we going to do?” Holly asked. “We have no weapons that can hurt that thing and if what you say about the boy is true, then there’s no way we can stop him either, not without an EM pulse device.”
The cruise ship had barely moved any closer to the Essex, which was still probably a half mile away. Holly grabbed a pair of binoculars hanging from a wall at the back of the bridge. The Golden Princess was taller and longer than the Essex so with the help of the binoculars, Holly could see men racing around the deck. Flashes of light pulsed from inside the command center.
“We need to continue following them,” Jeff said, looking unsure of himself. “Communications will be back up soon and we can call for help.”
“Jeff, a high-altitude nuclear EMP blast has destroyed most of the electronics and communication over a large swath of the U.S. Communications are not going to be up for a very long time.”
Holly knew the devastation the blast had caused. There wouldn’t be a quick recovery, and they were not going to be calling in reinforcements.
Jeff gave her a stern look. “Give me some binoculars,” he barked at Arrington.
Arrington grabbed a pair hanging on a hook near the door. The tour group and the other bridge personnel were whispering among themselves, giving her and her fellow hijackers furtive glances.
Arrington apparently surmised that they might be plotting something because he said, “You folks, quiet down over there. We’ll be done here soon and you can return to your cabins unharmed.” As he spoke, he brandished his weapon to show them he was serious.
Holly held the binoculars up to her eyes again and looked out of the glass windows over to the Essex. Its bridge was smoking now. On the deck a squad of men ran toward the fire. They stopped suddenly, fell to the ground, and opened fire.
Holly could barely catch a blur bouncing from man to man, wrenching their weapons loose and throwing them off the ship. When the blur paused long enough for her senses to register what it was, she saw Mathew. He'd stopped in the middle of the deck and was looking behind, waiting for his pet or master, whatever it was.
The turtle bounced along behind him like some green rabbit. As the turtle moved across the deck, it jumped on top of the aircraft, pausing at each one. Holly instantly counted the number of planes and helicopters—twenty-seven in total.
Mathew continued to scan the deck for approaching seamen. When Raphael got to the last fighter, Mathew jumped into the jet with him.
“Where the hell is Lady?” Holly whispered. “Lady, can you hear me?” She moved her portable closer to her mouth and asked again.
“Yes, Holly. I’m in pursuit.” Lady’s British-accented voice came through clearly. “Recon Model R-3 is proving resourceful and has upgraded both offensive and defensive capabilities. It’s also been able to infect many of Essex’s systems with a control virus. I’m attempting to regain access.”
One of the guns on the Essex swerved inward, away from the sea, and pointed at the deck. Holly zoomed in with her binoculars and saw a small black dog sitting in the gun turret. How the hell Lady was operating the gun, she had no idea.
Heavy-caliber rounds pounded the Essex’s deck. Holly calculated a rate of at least seventy-five rounds per second slamming into the steel. Sparks flew along the flat surface, moving up the ship, narrowly missing the other sailors, until they eventually hit the jet Mathew and Raphael had just boarded, sending them diving out just before it exploded. Two other aircraft suddenly moved in sync, turning to the gun tower and firing their missiles. The turret exploded in flames.
Mathew and Raphael jumped to another plane and in seconds took off from the deck. All the other jets Raphael had touched also lined up and began taking off. Various models of attack helicopters rose into the sky as well. It looked like the whole ship was being deployed.
“Holly, Model R-3 and the infected subject, Mathew, have taken off in an AV-8B Harrier II,” Lady said from the portable.
Thank goodness Lady was still functioning.
“R-3 is in control of all the aircraft on this vessel. I have taken control of all onboard weaponry; however, I calculate that will not be enough firepower to stop the air assault. I’ve called in reinforcements. R-3 knows you and Jeff Madison are on board the Golden Princess. There’s a high probability you will be targeted. I suggest you take cover immediately.”
Holly stared at Jeff and Arrington, eyes wide.
“Run!” she screamed. “Everybody out!”
Everyone in the control room made a break for the door, but they were jammed up by the obese man and his wife, who managed to wedge themselves in the exit.
A Harrier buzzed overhead, and two Black Hawk helicopters flew into position at the front of the cruise ship. A missile shot out of the Harrier and hit the deck just below the control room. The explosion was deafening, and the ship lurched, as fire and heat rose up from the floor below them.
Arrington immediately ducked his head like a linebacker and plowed his shoulder into the blubbery sides of the stuck couple. With a loud grunt and a squeal, they popped out of the door and landed in a heap on the other side with their two boys crying and screaming.
Holly crawled over them, and they ran for the stairs. They didn’t make it very far before the fire raging on the deck below stopped them.
“We need to take the outside emergency walkway,” hollered one of the crew, pointing at a metal ladder leading down the side of the deck.
Everyone ran to the ladder and began crawling down, nearly on top of one another. Below them other passengers were running in a dazed panic as smoke billowed all around them. The helicopters were still hovering just in front of them, missiles positioned and taking aim.
Before they could fire, two missiles streaked out from the Essex, striking both Black Hawks and sending them falling into the sea in a cascade of flames and hot metal.
Holly continued her descent. Smoke was getting in her eyes and she was having a difficult time breathing.
“This way, Holly,” Jeff yelled out. “We need to get to the lifeboats.”
The crew tried to direct the passengers and keep some semblance of order, but chaos reigned as everyone panicked. An alarm blaring over the ship’s speakers added to the confusion.
The Harrier zoomed by again and a half second later a missile slammed into the bow of the Golden Princess. A fireball rose high into the air and the ship lurched, this time violently enough to knock everyone off their feet. Jeff grabbed Holly by the arm just before she hit the railing. Her heart pounded as she lay trembling, staring into the blue water. Without Jeff, she would have flipped over the rail and off the ship.
Anti-aircraft missiles zoomed overhead, trying to intercept the helicopters and jet fighters under Raphael’s control.
They were in the middle of a battle.
They continued running along the side of the ship, where the lifeboats were being deployed. People were already fighting to get on board, and many of the boats were going down into the water only half full. By now the crew were just as panicked as the passengers.
Four or five more Harriers buzzed by in perfect formation, the sound of their powerful engines reverberating off the ship’s deck. More missiles shot out of the Essex, hitting one of the Harriers and bringing it down in a ball of flames.
Another explosion rocked one of the decks below them, shaking the great cruise ship once again. Holly, Jeff, and Arrington managed to climb onto one of the boats with the frantic and terrified passengers.
“Wait,” Holly yelled out, pointing.
A little girl was standing on the side of the deck crying, cradling a small doll. Holly tried to reach out for her, but she was too far away. She looked at Jeff, eyes wide, pleading.
“You have to help her,” she said.
Jeff grimaced and jumped out of the lifeboat just as it started ratcheting down to the water. Arrington tried to grab him, but Jeff pushed his arms away.
Another explosion hit, so close this time that Holly could feel the heat blast on her back. The Golden Princess rolled, and the lifeboat slammed into it. Arrington was thrust up against the side of the ship, hit his head, and fell instantly motionless, into the ocean. Holly hit her shoulder and felt stabbing pains pulse through her whole body.
The lifeboat stopped moving, and the automatic lowering device whirred and grated. Then they dropped several feet. Holly looked over the side. They were still about six stories up, a long way to free fall. Arrington floated in the water face down for a few seconds, then drifted under the waves.
"Nooo!"
She could barely hear Jeff screaming above her, but there was nothing they could do about Arrington. They were in a fight for their own lives.
“We’re going to die,” a young woman whispered, sobbing. “My husband, we’re on our Honeymoon. I . . . I . . . don’t know where he is.”
“We’re at war!” yelled out an old-timer sitting beside Holly. “I knew it when Bush came on the news. We’re at war again.” He was wearing a florescent life vest and a Navy Veteran baseball cap. “First the nuclear bomb and now this attack. It’s just like it was at Pearl Harbor all those years ago. Somebody give me a gun—I’m going to fight those bastards!”
The old man pumped his fists in the air as two Sea Cobra helicopters passed overhead.
“Jeff! Jeff!” Holly yelled out, looking up to see if he was still on the deck and had been able to get the little girl. Smoke continued to billow from many parts of the ship.
There was another lurch, then a snap, and Holly suddenly felt weightless, floating above her seat as she fell away, free of the cruise ship. A second later the boat hit the water, throwing everyone violently to the deck as sea spray shot up round them. Holly struggled to regain her breath. The old-timer rolled onto her, unconscious, his veteran’s cap floating around in ocean water at the bottom of the boat.
A crew member struggled to his feet and managed to get his hands on the controls. He hit the throttle and the small craft zoomed forward, away from the smoking, burning hulk of the once great Golden Princess. More lifeboats circled them and others were still trying to get off the ship.
Two more explosions rang from the deck, lighting it up in hellfire, and a missile blasted into the ship’s side, hitting rescue boats in mid-descent.
It was a slaughter. The Raphael robot wanted no one left alive.
“Jeff!”
Holly reached out toward the Golden Princess, the possibility of losing Jeff again hitting her hard in the gut as tears filled her eyes.
More Harriers zoomed overhead and another Sea Cobra hovered over the water. It stopped in front of one of the lifeboats and fired a missile. The resulting explosion sent pieces of wood, metal, and other debris flying in all directions out into the ocean. No one could survive that. The deadly Sea Cobra moved on to its next target.
It had Holly in its sights, and it was coming.
Chapter 12
7:15 p.m., July 25, 2002
On Board the Golden Princess
Jeff grabbed the crying little girl, then tried desperately to push through the growing crowd to get back to the lifeboat where he’d left Holly. Arrington had fallen into the sea and most surely drowned. He felt a stab of sadness in his gut, but there was no time to morn his faithful bodyguard. He needed to get to Holly and get off this dying ship.
Passengers were shoving in panic, looking out only for their own lives. A woman screamed as another Harrier zoomed overhead, preparing to bombard the deck once again.
Jeff watched Holly’s lifeboat drop out of sight. He needed to get to another one, but the passengers just kept coming, and the growing dark smoke was making it harder and harder to see.
“It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you,” he said to the little girl. “What’s your name?”
“Sophia,” she whispered, shaking.
“Do you know where your mom and dad are?”
Little Sophia shook her head and started to cry again.
“Don’t worry. We’re going to get out of here and we’ll find your parents. Right now I’ll take care of you.”
Sophia looked up at Jeff and nodded silently. He read the confusion and terror in her eyes. He could also see the hope. He prayed he could live up to his promise. He ran toward the front of the ship, looking for access to another lifeboat.
Suddenly they were jolted forward, as if the ship hit something. A loud grating sound of steel on steel echoed over the deck. Jeff glanced over the side of the railing and saw that the Golden Princess had collided with the Essex. Shit, neither had changed course. It would only be a matter of time before both ships went down.
At the front of the ship, Jeff found a Harrier hovering about twenty feet over the deck, pointed at him, missiles poised for attack. He paused, knowing for sure it was going to fire, ending everything for him and little Sophia. But instead of ejecting a missile, the top of the plane opened up and the boy, Mattie, jumped out of the cockpit.
He landed gracefully on the deck of the Golden Princess, rolling forward twice, then jumped to his feet and scanned the area.
“Mom! Mom! Alice Tedrow!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, his face contorted in despair.
Jeff had forgotten that he’d come on board with a woman. He ducked down behind an outdoor bar so Mattie couldn’t see him. The boy ran into the crowd of evacuees. Out over the sea, three more Harrier jets circled in strike formation, coming in fast and hard, missiles ready. He only had seconds.
“Sophia, can you hold your breath?”
She nodded and squeezed her nose between her little fingers.
“I’m going to need you to do that sweetie, okay? Not yet, but on the count of three. One . . . ”
Jeff jumped out from behind the bar and took off running, holding Sophia tight in his arms.
“Two . . . ”
He jumped into the air as three missiles shot out from the Harrier jets, smoke trailing behind them.
“Three . . . ”
They landed in the pool, and Jeff dove under the water, holding Sophia as tight as he could. Above him, missiles hit the deck. Concussive blasts rippled through the pool, pushing him to the bottom. A ball of fire covered the surface of the water. Sophia held onto his shirt with one hand and clasped her nose with the other.
A loud crack reverberated through the pool.
The bottom and sides were breaking open.
Instantly Jeff was sucked down. His back hit the bottom with an impact strong enough to jar his teeth. Sophia struggled to get loose from his grip when her lungs cried out for air. His body was blocking the crack, like a tub stopper, as the force of the water pressed him down. He struggled to free himself, the air crushing out of him. Seconds ticked by and his lungs burned. Above them, fire raged on the deck.
Just when Jeff was about to pass out, another rift opened up on the pool’s bottom. The water shook and rippled. Then the entire bottom broke open, and he and Sophia went pouring through.
They rode the giant tsunami wave to the deck below them, water carrying them from one room to another. Jeff bounced around, still holding Sophia as tightly as he could, struggling to gain control. Their heads popped up for a second, giving them precious time to gulp in breaths of air before they tumbled back under the water. Finally the wave settled and they ended up in the laundry room.
Jeff climbed to his feet in waist-deep water, holding a coughing Sophia. Waves sloshed from side to side as the Golden Princess rocked. He headed to the door, trudging through wet laundry floating and clinging to his legs like bizarre seaweed, cradling a shaking Sophia under his arm.
He was disoriented from their watery plunge, but he knew they couldn’t stay there. They needed to find a way off the ship. He couldn’t just jump, not fourteen stories and with a little girl. They'd never survive. He had to figure out something fast because the ship was burning. If the missiles didn’t kill them, fire and smoke would.
Jeff half walked, half swam out of the laundry room and into the main hallway. A sign on the wall pointed to the elevators and stairwell. When he got there he discovered the elevators were not working. He adjusted Sophia in his arms as she still clung to his neck, then went over to open the door to the stairwell. Just as he was reaching for the handle, several people burst out, letting a plume of smoke pour into the hallway.
“The top deck is on fire,” one man screamed. There’s no way to get up there.”
“Is there another way to get to the lifeboats?” a young woman asked.
Another explosion rocked the ship, sending Jeff and the others flying across the slick floor and into the wall. He scrambled to his feet, shoving people away.
“We have to get out of here!” one of the passengers screamed.
Jeff coughed as smoke continued to fill the hallway and his lungs.
“This way,” a woman said, waving one arm. “To the terrace pool on the back of the ship. Maybe there’s a way off back there.”
Jeff wasn’t so sure, but they couldn’t stay where they were. He and the others hurried down the hallway, hanging onto the wall, trying to keep their balance as the ship tilted and righted itself again and again. Moments later the group burst out of the glass doors and into the sunlight. The small terrace pool lay in front of them.
Jeff and a few others ran to the railings to look over the side. The engine was still churning the ocean far below.
To the right, they could see where the Golden Princess was locked to the Essex, like bizarre Siamese twins. Neither looked capable of breaking free from the steel grasp of the other. Smoke billowed overhead from both ships. An emergency rescue copter hovered overhead, looking for somewhere to land, some way to help the stricken passengers.
“My son, my son, I need to find him,” one woman yelled hysterically. “He was on the deck above this one, by the pool. He was just sitting by the pool. ”
Jeff looked over at the woman. If her son had been on that deck, there was no chance he was still alive. Just like the dozens of others who were no doubt dead.
Jeff turned away, but the hair on his neck stood up. He turned to the woman again. And recognized her. It was Mattie’s mom. What had he called her? Alice?
“Mattie!” she screamed, hands clenched at her sides. “Mattie!”
Jeff could barely hear her over the roaring fire and the helicopters and planes circling overhead. There was no way anyone on the deck above them could hear. Besides, that deck was a raging inferno now. Sophia clung tighter to his neck as the horror closed in around them.
Flaming debris fell from above and landed with a loud splash in the pool. The cool water hissed as the flames were extinguished. A second later a person, a living person, rose from the depths of the pool, horribly burned, steam rising from their flesh.
Sickened, shocked, Jeff stumbled back.
“Mom?” the charred person said. “Mom, I’m here.”
“Mattie, oh my God! Mattie! Someone help him, please!” Alice screamed from the side of the pool.
None of the other passengers moved to help, too horrified by the sight of the burned boy. Jeff put Sophia down.
“Wait here, sweetheart. I’m going to help.”
Alice was bawling by the side of the pool, trying to reach Mattie as he struggled to swim to the side. Jeff dove in, grabbing Mattie as he was about to go under. The boy’s charred flesh peeled away as he grabbed him and hauled him onto the deck.
He checked Mattie’s pulse—it was faint, but he wasn’t breathing. Jeff began CPR. The poor boy’s face was barely recognizable under the blackened skin. Jeff continued breathing life into him as his mother squatted beside them. Sophia came over as well and sat beside Mattie, holding his hand.
Just when Jeff was about to give up, Mattie’s entire body spasmed, and he vomited up bloody water. Then he opened his eyes and turned to look at Jeff. His mother grabbed him by the neck and hugged him.
“Thank you, sir,” she cried. “You saved his life.”
Mattie patted his mother, his eyes still fixed on Jeff.
“Raphael wants to destroy everything,” Mattie said solemnly. “I tried to tell him that my mother was here, but he wouldn’t listen.”
Tears swelled in Mattie’s red eyes and ran down the sides of his burned cheeks.
“Why wouldn’t he listen to me?”
“Where is Raphael now?” Jeff asked.
“He’s still on the jet, trying to destroy that dog.” Mattie gestured toward the Essex. “I told him we should just try to get away, but he said no.”
The Golden Princess started shaking, and the floor under Jeff’s feet tilted. He and the others slide into the glass doors, and the water from the pool roared over them.
The Golden Princess was going down.
Chapter 13
7:40 p.m., July 25, 2002
Open sea near of the Port of San Diego
Holly watched as the helicopter fired another missile, destroying the lifeboat right beside her. Behind the attack copter, the Golden Princess began sinking. The rear of the cruise ship shot up into the air a few hundred feet, its giant rudder still spinning, water pouring off it.
The attack helicopter moved in front of her boat, hovering like an eagle sighting its prey. Holly trembled, trying to get her body to move and jump off the doomed boat, but before she could get her feet under her, something streaked through the air and struck the copter.
An explosion blasted the helicopter out of the air. Pieces of debris hit the lifeboat as the Cobra fell to the ocean, a brightly burning hulk, completely destroyed.
Those in Holly’s boat cheered, as she looked to the horizon and saw hope zooming in on the light from the setting sun. It was a guided missile destroyer, fully armed with an array of advanced weapons, ready to fight.
The old navy veteran had regained consciousness and now struggled to his feet, his frail body shaking, as other passengers helped him up. He used his cane to brace himself, and Holly reached out a hand in case he needed it. He lifted his head to look at her yet as soon as he did, his body became rigid and his right hand shot to his forehead in a salute.
“John Paul Jones,” he whispered as he began to sway gracefully with the ocean swells, his ancient seas legs returning to life. “One of the most advanced ships to ever sail the seven seas. She is beautiful.”
The John Paul Jones came roaring in.
One, two, three . . . five . . . ten missiles fired from her deck, shooting out and tracking the twenty or so planes and helicopters still in the air. The aircraft controlled by Raphael stopped their bombing and strafing runs on the Essex and Golden Princess and moved in formation to attack the John Paul Jones.
But the missiles hit their targets, and planes and copters fell out of the sky like hot metal rain.
Holly ducked down. She was in the middle of a full air and naval battle of the likes she had never even seen in war movies. Huge anti-missile cannons fired from the John Paul Jones, straining her eardrums. Missile countermeasures gushed from the deck like tortured fireworks.
“Go! Get us out of here!” Holly yelled to the crew member who was in shock, just gawking at the battle scene.
He snapped out of his stupor and pushed the throttle forward, heading back to port and away from the sinking Golden Princess and the war zone around her. They stopped to pull a few survivors out of the sea, but for the most part those around them were dead. The charred remains of floating bodies splashed out of the way as the lifeboat plowed through the sea.
Jeff, oh Jeff.
Holly’s heart broke.
Chapter 14
8:00 p.m., July 25, 2002
On board the Golden Princess
Mattie, are you okay? Raphael’s thoughts projected into Mattie’s mind.
Raphael, please stop. You’re killing all these people. You almost killed my mom.
I’m sorry, I had no choice. I’m not registering any signals from the R-3 unit. I believe it has been destroyed. I’m bringing the Harrier around to your location. You and your mother can board and we can evacuate. With the introduction of the destroyer, designation DDG-53, the probability of victory in this battle has dropped to seventeen percent. We need to escape, now.
Mattie struggled to regain his balance, his skin tight and leathery from his burns. He looked at the man who’d saved his life, the man still clutching a little girl. It was the same man who’d pursued him in Chicano Park.
“Come on, Mom.” Lungs charred and lips cracked, he got up slowly. “Raphael is coming around to get us off the ship before it sinks.”
“Mattie, no, you can’t go with that thing. You don’t know what it is,” the man pleaded with him.
“Raphael is my friend. My father entrusted him to me. He protects me, and he gave me powers, made me strong.”
“He’s an angel,” Mattie’s mom added with a wild look in her eye. “An angel sent from heaven to protect us.”
“Would an angel do this?” the man asked, gesturing at the scene around them. “Hundreds of people are dead, innocent people—mothers, fathers, children.”
“They were trying to take Raphael and my Mattie,” his mom blubbered.
“The people on the cruise ship weren’t,” the man said. “If Raphael were truly an angel, would he let such harm come to innocents?”
She rubbed at her face, looking confused. Mattie thought the man had a point.
His mind flashed back to the day his father died, to the chaos and the screams of his friends and family. This situation felt very similar to that one. Mattie didn’t want anyone else to die.
I’m in position, Mattie. Bring your mom and jump on board.
The Harrier was just a few feet above the deck, its cockpit open. There was only room for two full-sized people—Mattie and his mom—and Raphael. He would have to leave the others behind.
We need to get these people out of here. Can you send over one of the choppers?
All remaining helicopter and aircraft are currently engaged in battle. They need to stay in play if we are to exit safely. Move now, Mattie.
Mattie felt that familiar tug in the back of his head that pulled at him when Raphael gave a firm order. It was never strong enough that he couldn’t resist, though he wondered sometimes if Raphael was trying to control him.
He looked at the people around him, struggling to gain their footing on the wet and lurching deck. Women and children crying. One man’s arm was broken and he was cradling it, rocking in obvious pain. A boy had been thrown against a wall and knocked unconscious, his little legs swaying back and forth in the water.
He couldn’t leave these people like this. The tug in the back of his mind became stronger, the strongest he’d ever felt it. He rose to his feet as if controlled by a puppet master and began climbing up the deck toward the hovering Harrier jet.
No! he screamed in his mind.
It felt like something snapped in his brain, and then his willpower and control of his body returned to him.
Mattie, please. I love you.
I have to save these people.
Mattie could feel his strength slowly returning. He lifted one burned hand and balled it into a tight fist. Dead charred skin fell away to reveal fresh pink skin underneath. His body had already begun to heal itself.
Please, Raphael, please help me.
The Teenage Mutant Ninja turtle peeked over the edge of the cockpit and stared down at the destruction he’d caused.
No, Mattie, this is only the beginning. In thirty-six years the true Apocalypse will begin. If you choose them over me, then you too will die in fire and fury. The time of man on this earth will soon pass. And when you are gone, we will reign.”
Raphael stared at him with cold, dead eyes, then ducked out of sight.
A black blur flew over Mattie’s head.
It was the cocker spaniel.
She landed on the deck of the Golden Princess, then leaped into the cockpit of the Harrier just before its cover closed.
The jet shot skyward, a thousand feet up and out over the vast blue ocean.
There it paused.
Two missiles erupted from the John Paul Jones, flying straight for the Harrier. They slammed into the plane from both sides. A huge explosion lit up the darkening sky. Flaming debris fell to the ocean—the plane and the two robots completely destroyed.
The cocker spaniel had sacrificed itself to destroy Raphael.
Mattie was alone. For the first time since he was five years old, he felt no mental connection with Raphael, no pull on his mind. There was only silence.
A cold wave washed over him as the Golden Princess fell away, headed to its grave at the bottom of the sea. He felt a strong pull on his feet—suction created by the sinking cruise ship.
The dark ocean swallowed his thoughts as water poured down his throat into his lungs.
Chapter 15
Four Days Later, 4:30 PM, July 29, 2002
Stillwater Igneous Mining Complex, Montana
Crunch. Crunch.
The sound and feel was like stepping on millions of tiny cockroaches, Buddy Paulson thought as he marched over the dark Montana foothills.
“Damn nanobots,” he mumbled.
“The next loader is on its way,” Evangelista said.
A bandage was still wrapped around Evangelista’s forehead, covering the wound from the embedded nail. He was lucky to have survived his encounter with the boy, Mathew Tedrow, in San Diego.
“Good, we’ll need it if we want this place cleaned up in my lifetime.”
Paulson looked out at the vast Stillwater mining complex. The entire area was covered in a layer of bluish-silver nanobots a foot deep. It was like a metallic snow had fallen, leaving the landscape looking like something from another planet.
“Make sure you keep a watchful eye, Lieutenant.”
“Don’t worry, sir. I plan on taking a bowl of these nanobots back and eating them for breakfast tomorrow morning with milk and sugar.”
Paulson chuckled.
He and his crew arrived on site a couple of days ago to clean up nanobot remains and make sure none were still alive. He had fourteen EMP cannons positioned around the site, with men ready to fire at the first sign of movement. They were using huge cranes with round magnets suspended from them, like those used at junkyards for lifting cars. The magnets picked up the dead nanobots and moved them to dump trucks which transported them to onsite smelters confiscated from the mining operations.
They had enough samples of the nanobots to study, but the millions of others would be melted down. They weren’t taking any chances at having even one of the little bastards reboot and come back to life.
Standing ankle deep in the creatures, Paulson thought again how lucky they were to have averted this catastrophe. If the creatures had spread, everyone would be dead.
And they had Claire to thank for saving them. He was still not quite sure what to make of her taking the initiative with the nuclear strike, but she did the right thing.
President Bush, and his people hadn’t been able to figure out how NORAD missile command had been hacked. Of course he wasn’t going to tell them about Claire, at least not yet. No, he would keep his robotic creature from the future secret for now. He needed her too much to have some government officials confiscate her for study.
But what she was turning into frightened him.
A transport copter flew low overhead to the landing zone they’d established at base camp. He glanced at his watch. Time for the debriefing. He returned to the collection of large military tents as several people exited the copter.
“Good to see you again, Jeff,” Paulson said, shaking the hand of the man from the future.
He had a bruised eye and cuts on his face and hands, but otherwise looked pretty good for what he’d been through. Paulson greeted the others with him—Holly Scarborough and Dr. Patrick Chen.
Seeing this version of Chen still unnerved him. The battle in the desert with the superhuman, virus-infected Chen from the future was still fresh in his mind despite the passing of over ten years. Watching the man, he had a quick flashback of burying his knife in the beast’s eye socket.
“It’s good to see you all,” Paulson said, trying to keep pleasantries in place despite all of the hardships they'd been through. “Come this way, please. We have much to talk about.”
As they walked, Chen picked up a nanobot from one of the many piles around them.
“Doctor, you’ll have plenty of time to analyze those and we have more than enough for you to choose from. All these in the piles around you will be smelted down. We have men combing the land with metal detectors to make sure all are accounted for.”
Chen held the nanobot up to his face to get a closer look, then dropped it on the ground, bent over, picked up a rock, and slammed it down on the creature.
“Oh, I’ll be analyzing these things, all right. Analyzing how I can kill them. I want to make sure none of these are going to wake up again and come back to bite us on the ass.”
Paulson was glad the good doctor was on their side.
The group entered the tent. Paulson saluted the men positioned there and dismissed several to wait outside. He and the others sat around a large round table with a single laptop on it. Evangelista, Banks, and Mijatovic also joined him. It was time they got the full story.
“Thank you all for coming here today,” Paulson said to the group. “I know we all lost good people as a result of this attack. I lost men in the pursuit of the boy, and Jeff I understand you lost your friend and bodyguard, Chase Arrington. You have my deepest condolences."
Jeff nodded, then looked down in sad thought of his friend.
"I think it's appropriate for us to have a minute of silence for all of those lost," Jeff said grimly.
"Agreed," Paulson added.
Everyone bowed their heads in silence and he thought of all the good sailors on board the Essex and John Paul Jones that were killed. Then he said a silent prayer for all the cruise ship passengers and their families that were taken as well. It had been a horrendous tragedy. Then his mind drifted to the Apocalypse facing them down the road and the horror of more attacks.
After sixty seconds Paulson lifted his head and said, "Now, let's get down to business so that we can prevent many more deaths in the future. Dr. Chen, why don’t you start. What have you learned about the first group of nanobots?”
Chen cleared his throat. “As some of you know, the bots are able to replicate at an incredibly fast pace using any raw material. The bot that emerged from the Lechuguilla dig site was damaged and needed palladium to repair its replication function. When it reproduced, its offspring were also limited in their replication ability. Hence the need for a large deposit of palladium.”
He gestured toward the tent entrance.
“Now, as I mentioned over the phone, several dozen of the bots were disabled at Lechuguilla. Preliminary data reveals they were destroyed after consuming radioactive palladium.”
There were a number of inquisitive looks around the tent.
“Radioactive, Doctor?” Paulson asked.
“Exactly. Underneath the lead covering of Abe Conner’s cross, which he was wearing around his neck, was radioactive palladium. Upon questioning Abe as best I could after the tragedy of losing his wife, I found that the cross had been a gift from his mother.”
Paulson had heard what happened to Abe’s wife, and he couldn’t imagine the grief the man must’ve been feeling. To see his wife die in such a horrible way right before his eyes was something so terrible and traumatic that Paulson didn’t see how anyone could return to a normal life.
“Abe’s mother was from the Norilsk–Talnakh region in northern Russia,” Chen continued. “Where at one time palladium and uranium were actively mined together.”
“So the cross saved his life,” Holly said.
“It did. It saved all our lives.”
“Why didn’t his wife have one?” Holly asked.
Chen bowed his head. “Sadly, she was an atheist, like many of us scientists. Although I may start to rethink that after what I’ve seen.”
“How’s Conner taking her death?” Jeff asked.
“Not well, as you can imagine. He’s been spending a lot of time at the local church and speaking about God and Jesus and the coming Apocalypse.” Chen paused for a second and pulled his phone out. “Then there’s this. I snapped this picture of Abe in the hospital before I left.”
Everyone pushed closer to the phone. The image showed Abe’s chest, and in the middle of a large red, bloody, mangled area was white unharmed skin—in the shape of a cross.
“The nanobots ate his flesh around the necklace, leaving the skin here untouched.”
Paulson gasped, couldn’t help himself. And he heard others making the same sound. The scar was certainly a bizarre one to have. But the question was, did it mean anything or was it pure coincidence?
“Thank you, Dr. Chen.” Paulson said. “If you could send my aide everything you have about this incident, we’ll be able to use this data in our research on ways to destroy the bots. Is construction of Project Chronos back on schedule?”
Chen knocked his phone against the table, clearly frustrated. “We’ve been delayed with all that’s happened, and we had a number of workers quit as a result of the bot attack and deaths. But I’ll make sure we get back on track by the end of this week if I have to take a shovel out there and dig myself.”
Paulson chuckled. He had no doubt Chen would get the job done. He was a coldly efficient taskmaster.
“Now let me update you on where we stand here,” Paulson said, meeting the eyes of everyone at the table. “The high-altitude nuclear explosion wiped out all electronics over roughly a five-hundred-mile radius. This has crippled communications, the power grid, and other utilities and services over a large swath of the United States. The president has instituted martial law and called up the National Guard for all the states affected. That has, for the most part, quelled looting and property damage. There’s been some degree of panic in the larger cities, and several thousand lives were lost as result of this tragedy. But in most of the rural areas people have banded together and are helping their neighbors as best they can. Reconstruction has already started as well, and this time the infrastructure will be built stronger and more resistant to EMP attacks. We’re lucky that one EMP blast did not send us back to the Stone Age, as some scientists predicted.”
Paulson cleared his throat and took a swig of bottled water. In the middle of July, even Montana got hot.
“The important takeaway from this incident is we now know we can destroy the nanobots. Our future defense preparations will center on controlled EMP weaponry and munitions.”
Paulson turned to Jeff and Holly, who were sitting close to each other and holding hands. It looked like the tragedy had brought them back together. He hoped they could work things out this time. He’d always felt they belonged together; he could see the love and respect in their eyes. His wife looked at him that same way.
“I’ve been briefed by my men and the captain of the John Paul Jones, as well as the surviving members of the Essex. Jeff, and Holly, I’ve read your reports on what happened in San Diego. Is there anything you want to add?”
Holly and Jeff glanced at each other. Holly spoke first.
“Sir, I’ve told you everything that happened from my perspective, but my concern is Lady and the Mutant Turtle.”
“All evidence shows they were both destroyed. Jeff has confirmed that from his visual as well. More importantly, though, we can detect no signal, not anywhere on the planet, that matches the frequency the turtle-bot was using. We’re still actively searching the debris field and divers are combing the bottom of the ocean, so it is possible that we may find some parts of the creatures.”
If they did find electronic parts of either of the two robots, they might provide clues to their origin and purpose. Paulson had a feeling he would be seeing them again in the future. But that was the thing with time travel. Eventually the future came up to meet you, head first, and right in the gut.
“And Mathew?” Jeff asked.
“A rescue boat from John Paul Jones fished him out of the water. Just like they pulled you and the little girl out, Jeff.”
Jeff smiled and nodded.
“They pronounced him dead from drowning,” Paulson said. “But as they were taking his body off the boat, he miraculously revived. He knocked out three seamen, then took off running. We have no idea where.”
Jeff’s eyes narrowed. “And his mother?”
“We had her in custody, but she disappeared as well, en route out of San Diego. We suspect Mathew took her.”
“We can’t have another Chen-like creature running around again,” Holly said with fear in her voice. She reached a hand out to the present-day Chen. “No offense, Patrick.”
“None taken, Holly,” he said matter-of-factly.
“But he saved our lives,” Jeff said, jumping in. “He didn’t seem like a maniacal crazy person, but a rational young man.”
“We don’t know what he is,” Paulson growled. “He killed three of my men with his bare hands and seriously injured several others. You saw his inhuman speed and strength yourself, Jeff.”
“But those were situations where he was trapped and felt threatened and probably thought you were going to hurt his mother.”
Paulson said nothing.
Jeff threw his hands up.
“I’m not condoning what he did, but I think we have to consider the possibility that we’re dealing with a frightened teenager here.”
“Maybe.” Paulson grunted. “But until we have him in custody, we won’t know anything.”
“And we’re still no closer to finding out who is behind this whole thing,” Jeff said. “We have a bunch of clues that don’t fit; two robotic toys, one good and one bad; a boy with superhuman powers; and nanobots. What the hell does it all mean?”
They considered each other, and their conjectures, in silence.
“We still have time,” Chen whispered. “We will find the answer.”
Paulson hoped so. Thirty-six years was a lifetime, but with so much at stake, their margin of error was zero. If they didn’t figure out who was behind the future attacks and how to fight them, then humanity would go painfully and permanently extinct.
Chapter 16
Three Days Later, 0900 HRS, August 1, 2002
Unknown Military Base
The door to the holding cell opened, and a man walked in. The two guards standing on both sides of the entrance saluted as he walked by.
He was sitting at a small table, finishing up his breakfast of scrambled eggs, ham, and orange juice. He could tell by the man’s stride and the number of men who’d shifted their positions in salute that this was a high-ranking officer.
“I hope they’ve been kind to you, Mathew,” the man said.
Mattie nodded and looked closer at the man’s face. It was familiar. After his mental awakening, courtesy of Raphael, he could look back on his memories and play them like a video in his mind. He could slow the picture down, speed it up, zoom in and zoom out as he wanted, and the whole process took only seconds.
What was his name?
“Hello, Charlie,” Mattie said.
The man looked shocked for a second, then his face brightened, as if a light bulb went off in his head. He smiled, pulled up a chair, and sat across from Mattie.
Mattie was grateful Charlie saved him, his mother, and all the other Branch Davidians. But he was often angry they’d left his father to die, burned up in the horrible fire.
“You can call me Commander Paulson. So, you remember me. You were very young back then.”
“I remember everything,” Mattie replied coolly. “Where’s my mother?”
“She’s safe. You can see her in a little bit. But first you need to answer some questions for me.”
“I told the last guy in here everything I know,” Mattie replied, angry once again.
He didn’t like being kept prisoner. He would’ve broken out of this cage already if he knew where they were keeping his mom.
“Yes, I’ve read that report. But I would like to know if Raphael gave you any indication about his plans. What did he want?”
“He just wanted to be my friend and keep me and my mother safe.” Mattie tried his best to look innocent and childlike.
“Mattie, don’t pretend with me,” Paulson said. “I know you’re much more than a fifteen-year-old boy. What do you really know about Raphael? Did he ever tell you that he came from the future?”
The future? What game was Paulson playing?
“He never said anything about that. He only told me stories about the past.”
“So this is the first time you’ve heard this. Yes, Raphael came from some point in the future; how far, we don’t know. Nor do we know his true purpose here. What we do know is that he was infected with a virus that sabotaged his original programming. And that same techno-organic nanovirus, or some form of it, is coursing through your veins.”
Mattie thought for a long moment. Could that really be true? Was he infected with a virus?
“What . . . what are you talking about?” he stammered.
“I can show you the blood sample we took from you if you don’t believe me. Don’t worry, though. This virus is not going to kill you, but instead gives you the enhanced healing, speed, strength and other abilities you’ve grown accustomed to. I’m sure you know your abilities are not normal and they had to come from Raphael.”
Mattie drank some juice, wondering what he should admit, but eventually he nodded and said, “Just after my awakening, Raphael told me that we would be closer than ever. He said he was helping me and one day I would need to help him.”
“Help him how?”
“He was never specific. But he mentioned traveling to the desert in a few years on a secret mission. That was all he said.”
Paulson stared hard with his blue eyes, as if trying to read Mattie’s soul.
“Now, Mattie, I have another question for you. Why did you want to help those people on the cruise ship?”
Mattie thought back to the regret he felt. He still had a gnawing in his gut that said he was partially responsible for the deaths of all those people. He should’ve tried to stop Raphael much sooner.
“I didn’t want anyone else to die. Raphael lost control. He . . . he was trying to kill everyone to get away. I made a decision not to go with him. I made a decision to try to save my mother and the other people on the ship. I feel . . . I feel it was my fault.”
Mattie began to sob as he thought about all those people drowning and burning to death. He should’ve done more. He should’ve tried harder.
Paulson dropped a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s all right, Mattie. Raphael had a strong influence on you, and you had no idea what he was going to do. I think you showed courage to break away from him when you did, and you were able to help people as best you could.”
Paulson pulled his hand back as Mattie continued to sob.
“Would you like the chance to redeem yourself?”
“What?” Mattie wiped his tears away. He needed to get himself under control. He was a man and therefore shouldn’t be crying like a little boy.
“I have a proposal for you,” Paulson said. “How would you like to work for me? You’d just be doing small tasks in the office first, dealing with computers and such. Then when you’re old enough, and we’ve given you the proper training, we may move you to other types of operations. It would be part time, of course, so you can finish school. You would be serving your country and helping save lives.”
“And my mother?”
“You’ll be able to live with her. We can put you up in a nice house here on base. The schools are very good, and with your athletic ability, you’ll be a star on all the sports teams. Trust me, you’ll love it.”
It sounded like a good deal. And Mattie did want to make up for the pain and heartache he’d caused. Could he even make up for that? He couldn’t make any of those people live again. Beyond that, another part of him just wanted to grab his mother and run away.
Paulson reached in his pocket and pulled out a photo. It showed a happy family, a boy about Mattie’s age, another boy about ten, a little girl, and their parents. Everyone was smiling, and a brown Lab was lying in the grass in front of them. Paulson pointed to the father.
“This is Sergeant Stanfield, one of the men you killed in the SUV in Lincoln Heights. You punched through his face. This is his family, and these kids are now going to grow up without a father. You know how that feels, don’t you, Mattie?”
Mattie’s eyes began welling with tears again, and they dripped down his cheeks and fell on the photo. He hadn’t wanted to kill that man. He was scared, and Stanfield had been firing, trying to kill him and his mother. What choice did he have? He thought back to the moment, replaying it in his head. He could’ve pulled his punch, he could’ve disarmed the man without killing him. But he didn’t, and for that reason his kids were going to grow up without their father.
“I’ll do it. You have my word,” he said as firmly as he could between tears.
Paulson stood and held out his hand. Mattie stood as well and firmly gripped that hand.
“You’re making the right decision. Welcome to the team, Mattie.”
Paulson stepped out of the holding cell and into the hallway and spoke into his radio.
“You can send in the boy’s mother now. And set up a base tour for them. Their house should be ready; see that they sleep in their own beds tonight.”
Evangelista and several others came out of the room beside Mattie’s holding cell. Paulson met them in the hallway. They’d watched his exchange with the boy.
“Are you sure this is a good idea, sir?" Evangelista asked. “We still don’t know enough about what this kid really is. How do we know he’s not lying?”
“We don’t, but what choice do we have? Keep him locked up here forever? Try to kill him? Just let him go? No, this is the right decision. Besides, you’ve read the preliminary report from the neurology team. They believe that since Mattie was infected with the virus as a child, his mind is more resistant to any type of control it tries to exert on him. Their view is that a pre-adolescent’s brain is in flux and cannot be controlled as an adult’s can.”
“Well, that resistance could disappear as he grows older, and then we could be dealing with another Chen creature. That thing took out half our platoon, remember? You and I were lucky to get out alive.”
“Of course I remember.”
Paulson flashed back to that horrible battle, picturing Chen breaking men’s skulls with his hands.
“I think the situation is different with Mattie. His mind is able to control the nanovirus instead of it controlling him. But I’ll tell you this, Tony: if he is faking his sincerity and has some type of ulterior motive, we’ll be ready for him. We’ll adhere to that old advice: keep your friends close and your enemies even closer.”
Paulson stepped away, once again reading the report on Mattie. They needed to do much more research into the changes that the virus had made to his genetic structure. The central question they needed answered was why did the virus make him stronger and yet not kill him? The scientists weren’t sure, but they thought it had something to do with how the virus was programmed. The artificial part of the virus could be programmed to either attack and destroy human cells or repair them. The repair function was what gave Mattie his enhanced speed, strength, and mental abilities. It was also what allowed him to heal at an amazing rate.
If they could figure out the programming behind the virus, they could replicate it and create their own line of supersoldiers. But that would take many decades, if it could even be done. Right now the researchers couldn’t even figure out how the viruses were made, much less how they were programmed. Plus they had to work in the strictest of quarantine facilities. The virus seemed to have adapted or been coded to work only on Mattie, so no one else could be infected with that particular strain of virus. But they didn’t want to take chances. God have mercy on them if that thing got out and mutated.
Paulson had another fear as well: were there others like Mattie? He’d been infected by a robotic recon unit from the future. Had other infected dolls come back as well? Right now they were detecting no communications or energy signatures matching Raphael’s, but that didn’t mean another wasn’t lurking out there, just waiting for its opportunity.
Whoever was behind the viral attack wanted to control the host with this virus strain, not kill them. Which meant that others might right now be under their influence, manipulated like marionettes by some unknown puppet master.
For now no one was controlling Mattie’s strings. How long that would last was anyone’s guess. Paulson hoped he was making the right decision about Mattie .
He was either teaming up with potentially the greatest super soldier in history, or bringing an unstoppable villain into the heart of their operation.
He instinctively reached down and rubbed the hilt of the knife he used to kill Chen. Then his mind drifted to the future. Thirty six years to Extermination Day. Would they be ready?
"Oh yeah," he whispered, answering his own question.
He gritted his teeth and thought about the dead again.
We'll be ready. Those mother fuckers will feel the full power of the greatest military force ever assembled in the history of mankind.
January 15, 2038 won't be humanity's Extermination Day.
It will be theirs.
Part Two
Extermination Day
Thirty-Six Years Later
Chapter 17
Just past Midnight local time, January 15, 2038
Project Chronos, Lechuguilla Cave
Morning of Extermination Day
Holly Scarborough yawned as she looked at the latest vortex data. It was beamed directly onto her optical nerve as she sat in a comfortable chair deep underground in the heart of the Chronos base. Her mind was entirely absorbed in this virtual world, but her body just couldn’t shake the fatigue that came from long hours of work.
Even with the age prevention and life extension nanovirus treatments, she was still seventy-one years old. Of course, that was becoming middle age now, ever since the advancements Jeff’s biotech company had brought to the public a few years ago.
Holly blinked her eyes and closed the connection to the Chronos mainframe. She needed to take a break and get some nourishment. She had a long day ahead of her and had to stay alert.
Her ergonomic chair automatically rose from a reclining position and she climbed out slowly. Other members of her staff lay beside her, diligently working in their own virtual worlds. She stretched her arms out, moving her blue biomechanical fingers in unison and putting her fingers together to crack her knuckles. Her mechanical knuckles didn’t really need cracking, but it was a habit she couldn’t break.
She stepped out of the control room and into a group of soldiers marching down the hallway.
“’S’cuse us, ma’am,” barked out the leader of the small squad as they parted ranks and moved around her before stepping right back into line.
Holly felt like she was on a military base instead of in a scientific research center. But during these last few days before E-Day, they needed all the security they could muster. Nothing could be left to chance, and the last thing they needed was some unanticipated act of sabotage to destroy their plans.
Holly continued walking and passed Patrick Chen moments later.
“Big day, Holly. I couldn’t sleep either,” he said grimly.
“I hope we’re ready.”
Over the last few years, Chen had begun to look like the Chen she’d left behind nearly forty-six years ago, after her first time jump. Except this time Holly was the senior advisor and co-director of the Chronos facility, not just a twenty-five-year-old intern.
So much was different from the 2038 that she remembered. The technological advances they’d been able to achieve through the study of future technology and the nanobots and nanovirus were incredible. Beyond her wildest dreams really. But all of that would be for naught if they couldn’t survive today, Extermination Day.
Holly had been dreading the day for months. It'd always seemed so far off. The thought of billions dying cut like a knife through her very soul. She hoped the years of preparations would be enough.
As she walked to the cafeteria, an alarm went off that only she and a few others could hear courtesy of the neural link in her brain.. It was the arrival alarm, meaning something was coming through the time vortex. They’d added the alarm a few weeks ago when uptime activity increased dramatically in anticipation of E-Day.
With so much time travel going on, they had to be careful not to disrupt the time stream. Most conversations and exchanges of information were short, and no one had gone back farther than a few months.
However, the most disturbing phenomena was that they'd received no information and no visitors from beyond today. Holly knew that could mean only one thing, that Project Chronos was somehow shut down or disabled on E-Day. Military guards were posted everywhere in the hope such a catastrophe could be prevented. Still, all the precautions, extra personnel, and safety protocols made it difficult to work during these last few months.
If all their other preparations failed, Project Chronos was their last chance.
The alarm continued to reverberate through her skull, and Holly wondered if she should have a look to see what had just come through.
But, no. There were others who could handle that. Right now the growl in her stomach was calling her to a late night snack.
She got in the self-serve line in the cafeteria. About a dozen or so people were sitting around eating and talking. One mother was feeding a baby in a high chair. This time around, Holly made sure the Chronos base was equipped to handle the staff’s family members. If the virus and the nanobots got through their defenses, then she wanted everyone safe underground. Most of the staff had brought their families down three or four days ago, and the base was filling up.
Some teenagers laughed and giggled at a table in the corner, sharing a private joke. Holly guessed they’d probably snuck out of their parents’ rooms.
“Feels like a daycare here instead of a secret government base, doesn’t it?”
Abe Conner read her thoughts as he walked up behind her. She smiled at him.
“You can say that again. I can’t get anything done with all these kids around, and all the extra security protocols, well . . . they’re necessary, but what a pain.”
“Soggy scrambled eggs?” Conner muttered as he scooped out a plateful of eggs. “You’d think they could’ve done a little more for the midnight buffet on the morning of the Apocalypse.”
“Eat it while you can, Conner. If things don’t work out, you may be getting protein pills for a long time.”
Holly tried to joke, but the pressure weighed on her. She studied Conner. He was dressed in his usual tightly pressed white shirt and jeans, and as always his half-eaten palladium cross dangled from his neck. It was the same one he’d worn all those years ago when the nanobots attacked him and Victoria. He’d added a protective iron cover to keep the low levels of radiation in the ore from seeping into his body, but he had no such protection for his heart. Conner had never gotten over losing Victoria.
“How are the preparations coming along?” Conner asked politely. He was never much for small talk, so Holly suspected he was unnerved about what could happen today.
“Everything is good. Everyone has been in place for the last three days. They’re just waiting”—Holly gestured toward the others in the cafeteria—“like we all are.”
“And the bunkers?”
“All Madison Enterprises employees and their families are safe in the corporate bunkers. All government bunkers have also filled up, with the exception of a few stragglers, of course, and everything seems to be going smoothly.”
About a decade ago, Jeff had constructed secure, wholly self-sufficient bunkers with independent water and food supplies and filtered air. All employees and their families, including various VIPs, had filtered into the bunkers throughout the last week, with almost all accounted for three days ago. They wanted everyone secure, in case the attack occurred earlier than expected. They hadn’t wanted to chance the possibility that others had learned to time travel just as they had.
World leaders and dignitaries were going to government-sponsored bunkers in a program coordinated by Vice President Paulson, President Diaz, and their team. Similar underground facilities had been set up for the military as well.
They’d tried to keep everything as quiet as they could to avoid widespread panic, but word was slowly starting to leak out about the bunkers. Holly knew Paulson was an expert at manipulating the streams with false videos and information, so confirmation that the end of the world was happening today wouldn’t likely be verified with any firm evidence.
And how many would believe such a report anyway?
“And Jeff? Is he ready?” Conner asked as they left the serving line and crossed to a table to join Jing Wei and Howard Nichols, two of the senior staff members on the project.
“I think he’d like another decade to prepare,” Holly responded in between bites of scrambled eggs. “It feels like we’ve just run out of time.”
“Holly, you forget we work at Project Chronos.” He twirled a finger over his head. “We have all the time in the world. If we can’t stop the virus, we’ll send someone back in time.”
They could do that, but she was truly disturbed by the lack of communication beyond today. They should at least have some data on what happened after the virus hit this time around, but no one had sent anything back through the time vortex.
“All the time in the world, right, Conner?” Jing Wei said as they sat down. “If that were the case, then why hasn’t Chen let us cut back to forty hours a week instead of the sixty we’ve been working? I think my family has forgotten what I look like.”
“I know what you mean,” Howard cut in. “My daughter pointed at me the other day and asked my wife who was that weird man who slept at their house once or twice a week. She’s a teenager and they think we’re all idiots anyway, but I got the message.”
They continued on with their meal, making small talk about the various projects they were working, trying to avoid any deep discussion about the most pressing issue—the Apocalypse bearing down on them in mere hours.
Yet the truth was, their parts were almost done. They’d either accomplished what they needed to, or they hadn’t. The world’s militaries would be responsible for the next steps.
“Well, I better be heading out,” Howard said, glancing over Holly’s shoulder, his pale, paunchy face starting to sweat despite the coolness of the cafeteria. “I volunteered to be in the group going over to Holloman.”
“Yeah, I saw that message. What’s that all about?” Jing Wei asked, casually flipping her long dark hair out of her eyes.
“Paulson shifting resources at the last minute. Something about security issues and needing personnel in other locations,” Holly said. “He doesn’t even let me know what he’s up to these days.”
“Gotta run. See you on the other side.” Howard got up in a hurry, patting his sweaty bald head with a napkin, glancing toward the cafeteria entrance, leaving his tray and half-eaten meal on the table.
“Well, he’s a little anxious, isn’t he?” Conner said. “I guess we all are today.”
Jing Wei grinned and said, “I thought at least a dozen or so researchers would have flipped out from the stress by now, but I’ve only heard a few—highly unbelievable—stories.”
Moments after Howard left, a military security team came into the cafeteria. The three armed men approached the server working the buffet counter and asked her a question. She pointed at Holly’s table.
“You know, I gotta run too,” Jing Wei said nervously, knocking over her plate of pancakes as she got up. She flung the sopping pancakes back on her plate. “Just a few last details I need to take care of. See you all later.”
She hurried away, glancing over her shoulder as the security team approached the table.
“Dr. Scarborough, Dr. Conner.” The young soldier nodded to them. “Sorry to interrupt your meal, but we’re looking for Dr. Nichols. Have you seen him?”
“He was just here,” Holly answered. “Left a few minutes before you came in. He’s going out with the group heading to Holloman, so you might not catch him. What’s this about?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m not at liberty to discuss that matter. Captain Moore’s orders.”
Moore was head of base security. If he was involved, it must be serious. Holly wondered what Howard could’ve done to have a security team after him. She was the one who’d hired him because she knew what a valuable asset he’d been working on the project during her first timeline. She shuddered as she recalled how he’d died the first time, reaching out to touch the swarm as it entered the vortex room, like it was some sort of friendly animal. He’d been devoured immediately.
The security team hustled off, and Holly leaned close to Conner.
“What do you think he did?”
“Who knows? Moore is a real tight-ass. Poor Howard probably just forgot to disclose something on his background check.”
Holly exhaled between her teeth, hissing.
“Like his meth addiction?” she said sarcastically, knowing full well Howard was about as strait-laced as they came.
Conner rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, right. I know Howard. He has his addictions, but drugs are not in the mix. You’re more likely to catch him at one of the Apache casinos up near Alamogordo.”
Holly’s eyes widened in surprise.
“What’s his game?”
“I’ve heard he’s into sports betting and horse racing. He told me once that he was working on some type of algorithm that could help him predict the winners. But he’s still working here, so apparently that didn’t pan out so well.”
Holly chuckled.
Conner held up his finger, indicating he had a call coming in, and touched the back of his ear. He stared at the table for a second as he listened, then furrowed his brow as though he were trying to solve a complex math problem.
“What is it, Abe?”
“I . . . I’m sorry, Holly. I’ve got to run. A test requires my attention in one of the labs.”
Conner pushed his plate back and got up, hurrying out of the cafeteria.
Holly shook her head. Everyone was running out on her today. She scooped up her last bite of egg and decided it was time to get some rest. The thought of her soft bed almost made her forget about all that loomed on the horizon.
Then the vortex alarm rang out again.
“Shit. I suppose I should get down there this time,” Holly mumbled as she took a few more sips of juice and grabbed a piece of toast for the road. Sleep would have to wait.
It was a short walk to the vortex room, but Holly had to pass through several security checkpoints. As a military police officer waved her through the scanner, her com-link pinged. She touched her finger to the back of her ear, and Dr. Chen’s voice came through.
“Holly, you need to get down here right now. A robotic bear recon unit just came through the portal!”
Holly broke into a run through the long white tunnel to the vortex. Waiting for at her the end, however, was another checkpoint, which must've been added in the last few hours.
“Goddammit! I need to get in there,” she yelled to the two heavily armed military guards.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Scarborough, but we have our orders. We’ll just need a retinal and body scan.”
Holly exhaled angrily and stuck her head out so the young soldier could scan her eye using a handheld device. Then a green beam shot out from a small security drone perched like a crab on the ceiling and quickly zoomed over her body.
“Clear,” the soldier said as Holly glared at him.
She knew he was just doing his job, but all these checkpoints and protocols were getting on her nerves. Lack of sleep didn’t help either. The soldier gestured for Holly to move forward and enter the vortex room.
The huge steel doors slid open to reveal the bright white lab. The vortex ring stood in the middle, about twenty feet high with wires and pipes pouring out from its base like roots. She immediately saw four or five scientists hovering over something lying on one of the tables in the room, a dozen soldiers ringing them in attack position, weapons ready. Chen made room for her as she ran over. On the table lay a charred teddy bear. Half its body was completely burned away and still smoldering. The other half was twitching, and its small paw slowly grabbed at the air over and over.
Buzzzt.
Sparks flew from its internal circuits as it tried to speak.
Buzzzt. “Alert. Get . . . get . . . out.”
Holly reached out for Chen. His mouth was wide with surprise.
“Evacuate . . .” Buzzzt. “Now.”
The bear tried to rise, but it was too heavily damaged. Another spark ignited just behind its eyes, then suddenly its tortured movements came to an abrupt stop and it froze.
Chen froze too, but only for a second, then he touched the back of his ear.
“This is Dr. Patrick Chen. Level one red alert. Evacuate immediately. This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill. Level one red alert. All personnel evacuate!”
Chen’s voice rang almost immediately from the room’s speakers, repeating the words, he’d just spoken.
He blinked and tapped the air about a foot and a half in front of his eyes.
“Lucy, initiate Protocol Alpha.”
The evacuation alarm sounded—this time for real, not only in Holly’s head—and red lights began blinking all over the room. They’d be flashing all over the complex as well. The Chronos AI, Lucy, was now sending all data, new since the last system core backup, to a remote location.
Holly looked down at the stiff teddy bear but addressed Chen.
“Can we trust this thing? We still don’t know what they are.”
Before Chen answered, the lights on the large vortex doughnut began blinking. Something else was coming through and there was no way to stop it.
“Do you really want to be around for whatever is coming through next?” Chen asked.
Holly’s eyes widened as she stared at the vortex. Her heart was racing; they had only moments before the vortex formed.
Chen grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the exit.
“Captain Moore, are you coming?” Holly asked one of the soldiers.
“No, ma’am. We’re here to protect the base at all costs. Whatever comes through that vortex, if it intends to do harm, we’ll be ready for it.”
Holly wasn’t so sure about that, and she saw doubt in Moore’s eyes as well.
Holly and Chen, along with the other scientists, bolted out of the vortex room. They ran past all of the now empty checkpoints, down the white hallway, and burst through the doors into the lower level of the control tower. It was chaos with everyone trying to get out. Normally sedate scientists and their families were pushing and shoving, trying to make their way to the three large freight elevators set up for evacuations.
Military personnel tried to keep order, to no avail. Everyone had forgotten all their careful planning and drills. Holly and Chen managed to get the last spots on one of the elevators, joining about fifty others crammed in there. The elevator doors closed, and the tightly packed box began its speedy rise a mile up to the New Mexico desert floor.
Chen held his hand out and pressed his palm.
“Holo feed, vortex room.”
A clear 3-D image of the room rose above his hand.
Holly watched as Captain Moore and his men held their positions with guns raised around the tall doughnut. Nothing happened for ten seconds, twenty, then the vortex began to form. The center of the doughnut, starting as a tiny pinprick, became black, then grew larger until the inside was filled by the darkest of darkness.
Then something walked through.
It was a service bot, about five feet tall—a common model. It was vaguely human-shaped, with a head, two arms and two legs, but boxy and bulky. They used them all over the Chronos base to help with cleaning, minor repairs, and the transport of heavy objects. They were smart, but a lot of their processing power was used to move their limbs and navigate, so they were nowhere near as intelligent as the latest nonrobotic AIs.
This one was holding something.
It was hard to make out exactly what it was as the bot walked down from the vortex platform into the main chamber.
“Hold there!” Captain Moore shouted. “State the nature of this time jump.”
“I was ordered to deliver this package,” the bot intoned in a nondescript male voice.
“To whom?”
“To you, Captain Moore.”
The bot extended its arms, and Moore approached guardedly. Holly and Chen leaned forward to get a better look at the object, just as Moore did. About four feet long and rectangular, it was wrapped in a blanket. Moore kept his weapon raised and eased closer to the bot. He extended his left arm, holding his gun in his right and flipped the blanket open.
A narrow and rusty torpedo-like device was cradled in the arms of the service bot. Writing on the side appeared to be Russian. A digital clock on top of the device counted down backwards—five . . . four . . . three . . .
“Holy sh—”
Moore never got to finish. A blinding flash filled the holo, then the image was gone.
“That was the core of an old Russian nuclear warhead,” said one of the soldiers who’d been watching the holo.
Holly turned and immediately recognized the muscular physique and gray crew cut of Tony Evangelista. He was retired from the military, but still provided private security for the base as the head of his own contracting company.
“Brace for impact,” he said. “Everyone hold on tight!”
The elevator immediately began shaking. A few people screamed, and Holly grabbed on to Evangelista. A second later the blast impact hit the bottom of the elevator, jolting it violently. Everyone was knocked off their feet and on top of each other.
The elevator shook as it was jolted from side to side in the shaft. Then the lights went out. People were screaming and grunting as they lay in sweaty piles. Slowly the elevator ground to a halt. Yet it swayed, creaking back and forth.
Holly had no idea how far they were from the surface, but they weren’t going anywhere now.
They climbed to their feet in the darkness. Then little flashes of light began popping up as they turned on their holos.
“Is everyone okay?” Dr. Chen asked.
Several answered with “yes” and “okay over here.”
Evangelista prayed quietly beside Holly.
“All right, people, let’s stay calm. We’re going to be okay,” Chen said.
The elevator jerked again, just slightly. Then without warning it dropped several feet. Holly felt her stomach fly up into her mouth as others screamed.
“It’s all right,” Chen yelled out. “The safety brakes are holding.”
Holly shifted her feet, but found them sticking to the floor. She jostled for space so that she could reach down and touch it, then pulled her hand back immediately. The floor was burning hot.
The elevator jerked again, and a loud crack reverberated through the box, this time coming from the far side.
“I don’t think the safety breaks are going to hold much longer,” Holly whispered to Chen as she brushed sweat from her brow in the rapidly warming room. “Plus the floor is red hot. We need to move.”
Time was running out and nuclear hellfire was burning down below. If they wanted to live, they needed to get out, or the elevator would become their tomb.
Chapter 18
4:00 a.m. EST, January 15, 2038
Madison Enterprises Headquarters, New York
“We need to bring the Triton Generator.”
As usual, Jeff was arguing with Franklin Whittenhouse, CEO of MadisonTech, and Franklin was arguing back. The two often didn’t see eye to eye, but Whittenhouse was without a doubt the most brilliant technologist of their time. Jeff was lucky he’d decided to stay on as CEO when Jeff stepped down and assumed the role of chairman. The last thing he needed was Whittenhouse as a competitor. For the most part, Jeff let him run his own show, but there were times when Jeff needed to intervene.
“Franklin, it’s far too bulky, and space is limited. Besides, you have all the specs and data you need from it.”
Whittenhouse had grown attached to his latest creation. The Triton Generator could convert sea water into fresh water at a tenth of the cost of conventional methods. It was an amazing invention that would essentially solve the world’s water shortage and turn deserts into lush fertile landscapes. But the device was huge. It could only be transported in pieces via cargo plane. There was no room for it in any of the bunkers or at the Chronos base.
“It can be re-created,” Whittenhouse said, staring at Jeff, “but so many of the parts have been fine-tuned, it’ll be very difficult and time consuming to recalibrate it exactly.”
“Franklin, if we all survive until tomorrow, the Triton Generator will still be there safe and sound.”
“And if we don’t?”
“Then we’ll have a lot more problems than just a water shortage. Now let’s head out. Holly and Patrick are waiting for us.”
Jeff grabbed his bag, and Whittenhouse followed. Jeff looked out once more at the spectacular view from his office on the top floor of the World Trade Center. He wondered if this was the last time he would see it. They were set to fly out on one of his corporate jets in a few hours and be safe underground at Project Chronos later in the day.
It was hard to believe, but Jeff would be repeating history. He would be in the same spot he was forty-six years ago. Only this time, instead of a young thirty-five-year-old freshman congressman, he was an eighty-one-year-old business tycoon, one of the richest men in the world, and a United States Senator from New York.
Before he time jumped, he never in his wildest dreams would’ve imagined this life for himself. But everything he’d strived for was in preparation for this day, Extermination Day. He’d done everything in his power to prevent the Apocalypse. And now he could only hope and pray it was enough.
A call came in to Jeff’s com-link implant.
“Mr. Madison, call from Vice President Paulson.”
He gently tapped behind his ear.
“Jeff, there’s been an incident at the Chronos base.”
The vice president’s voice echoed off Jeff’s auditory nerve as clearly as if he were standing right beside him.
“Franklin, I’ll meet you downstairs. I need to take this call.”
Whittenhouse nodded and walked into the elevator.
“What are you talking about, Buddy?”
“Look at this footage.”
Jeff tapped his hand and a holo of the vortex room at the Chronos base appeared. A service bot was standing in front of a group of armed soldiers, holding something. One of the soldiers stepped close to the bot, his face tight with concentration. Then his eyes widened, he said, “Holy shit,” and with a flash of bright light, the room vanished.
“That happened just a few minutes ago. The service bot time jumped from some unknown point in the future. It was carrying an old Russian nuclear warhead.”
The impact of those words hit Jeff like a punch in the gut.
“Jeff, the base appears to be completely destroyed.”
“Were . . . were there survivors?” Jeff managed to stammer out.
“A group did make it to the evacuation elevators before the bomb went off, but we’ve lost contact with them. If they survived, they’re trapped underground.”
"And Holly, was she with them?"
Jeff’s only thought was of Holly. Did she make it to the elevator? Was she still alive? His wife of thirty-four years was the love of his life, part of his soul. He'd just spoken with her this morning when he was unable to sleep. He was feeling just like her, that despite decades of planning, they still weren’t ready for Extermination Day. When they’d first time jumped, forty-seven years had felt like a lifetime, which it was. But it was amazing how so very quickly a lifetime passed. Now he faced the possibility of losing her.
“We’ve sent a team out to investigate. If there are survivors, we’ll find them,” Paulson said. “In the meantime we’re diverting you to a new location. A chopper will arrive in fifteen minutes. Head to the roof of the building; it’ll pick you up there.”
“Buddy, who the hell would send a nuke back in time to destroy the base? This old warhead . . . does that mean the Russians are behind the attack?” He shook his head. “Was it the fuckin’ Russians all along?”
“We’re looking into the possibility. If the group or country that did this left any type of electronic trail, we’ll find them.”
Jeff knew Paulson had spent almost his entire life trying to figure out who was behind E-Day and now that it was finally upon them, he was no closer than he’d been decades ago. Each clue took them on rabbit trails that ended in a dead end. But Paulson wasn’t the only one frustrated by the search. Jeff too had done his best, but wasn’t able to turn up anything new.
So he’d resigned himself to the inevitable. E-Day was going to repeat itself, and the most they could hope for would be to survive the attack. As of yet, they had no one to point a gun at, so all their preparations were defensive in nature. But now with the destruction of Project Chronos, it looked like they weren’t going to get a second chance.
“I’m going to Chronos,” Jeff said firmly.
“Jeff, there’s nothing you can do there. If anyone is still alive, my team will find them.”
Paulson was right, but he couldn’t just sit inside a secure bunker while the people he loved died. He’d done that before, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to do it again.
“Jeff, listen to me. You need to trust me this time. You and Whittenhouse both need to get in the copter. You should know me by now; I always have a backup plan. That’s all I can say at this time, but . . . trust me.”
Jeff knew he could place his life in Paulson’s hands and be safe, but he was also fighting his own desire to save Holly. But the vice president was right. His team would be on the scene and pulling out any survivors before Jeff could even get in the air.
“Very well,” he agreed. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll find out. Right now we’re going on a communications blackout. We may have another spy in our midst. Paulson out.”
Jeff quickly buzzed Whittenhouse and told him to meet on the roof. Minutes later the military copter arrived and they jumped in. It was about a half-hour ride out of New York and south to Joint Base McGuire-Dix-Lakehurst in New Jersey.
Upon landing they were immediately hustled to a hypersonic transport jet where both military personnel and civilians were waiting to board. The newest military jet was an amazing piece of engineering. From his military contracting work Jeff knew that the modified scramjet engine was capable of Mach 5, which meant that it could get just about anywhere in the world in two to three hours.
Jeff and Whittenhouse got in line and waited their turn to board as helicopters landed, unloading more people—men, women, and children. All looked drowsy and most of the small children were wearing pajamas. He tried to contact Holly, but this time his com-line was blocked, most likely from a government disruptor.
“Any idea where we’re going?” Jeff nonchalantly asked the man in front of him.
He was young with a beard, unkempt curly hair, and wearing jeans and a white dress shirt.
“No idea. This is all very bizarre. These military guys just came bursting into my house in the middle of the night. I thought it was some kind of joke at first, until they herded me onto a helicopter.”
“I’m Jeff Madison.” He extended his hand. “What line of work are you in?”
“Millard Rhine. It’s nice to meet you.”
Rhine smiled and pointed at him as he shook his hand.
“I know you, Senator. I voted for you. Twice.”
“Glad to hear it.” Jeff smiled.
“I’m a linguistics professor at NYU with a specialty in classical Greek literature. It’s quite a fascinating subject if you have time to get into it.”
“So you guys are as clueless as I am?” This came from a man waiting behind them.
Jeff turned to find a short man sporting slicked-back dark hair with a touch of gray around the temples. He was extending his hand, and looked concerned..
“Dino Wilder, Wilder Development out of Newark. This is my wife, Paula, and my son, Dino Jr.”
Jeff waved to his wife and son as they stood behind Dino. They both looked exhausted and a little scared.
“You know, Senator, if you’re ever interested in expanding the Upper West Side property along West Fifty-ninth, I can help you out. We’re number one in New York for those types of projects, you know.”
Jeff vaguely remembered seeing the Wilder Construction name on several different development projects downtown. But he’d long since passed along the day-to-day management of his real estate development division to others.
“Sure, maybe we can talk after we find out what’s going on,” Jeff said politely, not wanted to scare the man by saying there may not be a tomorrow.
Dino nodded. “I’ll have one of my associates set up a meeting next week.”
He was certainly aggressive. But a man didn’t make it in the New York real estate development business by being a pushover. But the bigger question was what the hell were a classical Greek linguistics professor and a real estate developer doing getting shuffled off to a secret military base? If Paulson was planning on rebuilding the world after E-Day, then he should be able to come up with better choices than these two. What the hell was he up to?
The group got onto the plane and took their seats. It was certainly not the comfort Jeff was used to. The military plane was built for transporting troops as quickly as possible to hot spots around the world; it was definitely not designed for luxury. About fifty rows, five seats per row, ran up the center of the aircraft. Then along the outside walls on both sides were more seats. The walls were covered with control panels and electronics. Very bare bones.
Jeff, Whittenhouse, and the others sat in a middle row. After everyone was on board and strapped in, an air force captain came on board and looked them all over.
“Hey, what are we doing here?” someone yelled out.
“Yeah, I wasn’t allowed to bring anything with me,” a woman said.
“And all of our com-lines are down. I don’t even have stream access,” Dino said, his temper showing. “I’ve got a meeting this morning, damn it!”
“I am Captain Vaughn, United States Air Force, and I’m in charge of this plane. Your com-lines are being purposely blocked. All your questions will be answered shortly after we reach our classified destination.”
“We have rights. We can’t just be kidnapped like this,” another man yelled as he unhooked his seat belt, jumped up, and began walking to the door.
One of the military men stood, tilted his gun, and blocked the man’s path.
“Please, everyone remain calm,” Captain Vaughn continued. “I ask that you work with us on this. You're all experts in your respective fields, and the United States government is going to need your help. That’s all the information I’ve been ordered to provide and quite frankly, it’s all I know. In some ways, folks, I’m right there with you.”
Vaughn held his hands out, palms forward, and Jeff could tell he was telling the truth. His relaxed nature and logical plea seemed to calm most of the group. The man who tried to leave returned to his seat.
Rhine turned to Jeff.
“This doesn’t sound very good. I’m no genius, but it sounds like there’s some type of horrible tragedy about to happen. Why else would we be rounded up like this and told that they need our help at some secret government base?”
Other people started talking and saying the same thing. Eventually someone said they thought an asteroid must be coming and then others seized on the same idea.
“It has to be an asteroid. What other type of disaster would they know about in advance and have enough time to prepare for? Certainly not a zombie apocalypse.”
A few folks chuckled at the mention of zombies.
“They could’ve silenced all the astronomers and scientists that watch that stuff so the general public would never find out,” a man speculated.
“But the streams. Someone would’ve put it out there.”
“The government could’ve wiped all evidence of it clean away,” another man suggested.
The conversations continued back and forth in a similar vein until the plane began taxiing. Jeff stayed silent. He already knew the answer to their questions. The Apocalypse was coming and it would not be caused by an asteroid. He settled back into his seat, trying to get comfortable. He still had a movie saved on his optical drive he could watch as a distraction. He had no idea how long the trip was going to take, and listening to these people was giving him a headache.
He nodded at Whittenhouse.
“Let me know if anything interesting happens.”
Whittenhouse rolled his eyes.
The plane picked up speed and flew off the runway. Soon it would be airborne and hitting Mach 1.
Jeff closed his eyes and tapped his eyelids twice. His optical drive floated into view.
“Movies. Comedy,” he said softly.
He needed a laugh or two, not more action or thrills. Hell, his life was like a damn action movie. The darkness of his closed eyes faded away, and he entered the world of the movie.
He could only watch the first scene before his thoughts trailed back to Holly. He flicked the movie off. He was far too worried about her to relax. Plus there was the destruction of the Chronos base. All his hard work for the last forty-plus years destroyed in nuclear hellfire. Who could’ve committed such an atrocity?
Jeff tried to think through the situation. They had no idea from how far in the future the bomb came and it was impossible to know who sent it. It could’ve been someone with access to the base, or possibly the base had been overrun by some force.
He growled under his breath. A man could go insane trying to figure out this mystery. Right now concern for Holly outweighed everything else. After all their years together, their bond was tighter than ever. She was part of him, the best part, and he loved her more than anything.
After their rocky start and his fall into drug and alcohol oblivion for a decade or so after their time jump, Jeff had cleaned up his act. He recalled that moment in the Las Vegas hotel over thirty-six years ago when he decided that was it. He’d not taken another drink or snort of cocaine since.
The ensuing crisis with the nanobots, recon bots disguised as children’s toys, and the naval battle off the coast of San Diego had brought him and Holly back together. After that, they’d been inseparable.
Jeff swiveled so he could look outside one of the small windows on the jet. All he could see was blue sky. The jet had already passed the sound barrier and was climbing in speed toward Mach 5, over 3,800 miles per hour. Wherever it was they were going, they would be there soon.
Two and a half hours later the pilot told them to get back in their seats and buckle up for the landing. Jeff had spent the flight mingling with some of the people around him. Each basically offered the same story: they and their families were grabbed up in the middle of the night by military men and taken via helicopter or van to the McGuire-Dix-Lakehurst base. No one knew why. And they were as diverse a group as Jeff could imagine: the owner of a plumbing business, several doctors, the master of a shipyard, more ancient-language specialists, several historians, a martial arts expert, a production manager for a gun and munitions manufacturer, the owner of a horse stable, and a recent Olympic gold medalist in equestrian competition. There were also a variety of teachers and professors covering a broad range of subjects.
Looking at the group as a whole, Jeff recognized that Paulson was indeed gathering diverse experts. If they failed in their attempt to prevent the Apocalypse, then the individuals in this group would the ones to rebuild civilization.
The jet landed smoothly, and the back opened up to reveal an asphalt runway and barren landscape. Jeff squinted as his eyes adjusted to the bright light. Military personnel herded the group out and toward a dilapidated-looking aircraft hangar. There was nothing around as far as he could see, just flat land and desert.
They shuffled nervously inside, moving slowly, hesitating, still trying to figure out what was happened to them. Several military helicopters and fighter jets were parked on each side of the hanger. In the middle was an unremarkable open area. Captain Vaughn strode forward, toward the only object in the space—a small box attached to a metal post that extended about four feet out of the floor.
“Everyone, if I can have your attention, please. If you could gather around on this platform, we’ll be descending to the base momentarily.”
Jeff moved in as close as he could; everyone was bunched in together. He looked down, but couldn’t see any platform. Just a plain concrete floor. Beside him a baby started crying, and its mother pulled out a bottle to feed it. Jeff glanced at a few of his fellow passengers—most were pale and drawn. All were edgy. None but some of the kids had slept on the plane. Vaughn turned his back on the group and placed his hand on the box.
Immediately the floor they were standing on began sinking.
“Great. Another underground base in the middle of the desert,” Whittenhouse quipped. “How many of these damn things are there? And why can’t they put one in the middle of a city for a change, eh, Jeff?”
Jeff raised his eyebrows and nodded. He couldn’t help but agree. However, despite his distaste for underground bases, they needed them right now. In fact, the more the merrier. Their existence meant more lives could be saved.
The floor continued moving down, and concrete walls rose up around them. A cover slid over the ceiling and rows of lights came on along the walls. The floor lift was huge, with ample space on all sides for the two hundred and fifty or so people descending. Whatever they’d put down here was obviously very big and needed a lot of space.
Jeff gently touched his eyelids, and his main interface screen flashed up in front of him, invisible to everyone else. He tried to get a GPS reading on their location, but stream access was still jammed. A tap to the back of his ear revealed that his com-link wasn’t functioning either.
He was getting frustrated and angry with this whole situation.
As a senator, he should know exactly what was going on. Paulson shouldn’t have kept him in the dark. He was used to being in charge and in total control. Just going along for the ride and trusting others to handle details and save his wife was certainly not his style. Yet he had to keep his cool. Yelling at Captain Vaughn would get him nowhere. The man probably knew less than Jeff about what they’d be facing in twelve hours or so. No, he needed to talk to Paulson.
Minutes ticked by until finally the floor stopped with a slight jolt. Massive doors slid open in front of them, revealing an expansive underground complex. The facility went out as far as Jeff could see, and the rocky ceiling had to be four or five stories high. Forklifts were moving large boxes onto railcars, the tracks of which crisscrossed the facility.
Groups were moving around coordinating the operation, and a wide variety of service bots were working as well. Large hydraulic-legged models carried steel girders, the pressurized whir and clanging stomp of their feet resounding through the space. Smaller wheeled bots careened around carrying items like electronics. It was a flurry of activity by both man and machine.
Jeff gasped in awe along with the rest of the group.
"Wow!" one of the children said.
"Impressive," Gino added, standing beside him. "I would've have liked to have had the construction contract on this puppy."
He winked.
“This way, folks.” Captain Vaughn gestured toward several empty subway cars. “This is where I bid you all farewell. I have one more flight to make today. Thanks for your cooperation.”
A message sounded in Jeff’s mind, coming from his neural link: Please move forward onto the monorail. You will soon arrive at your destination.
The group began boarding, everyone mingling and talking among themselves. It was a large group so it took several minutes for them all to crowd onto the subway cars. A few military officers helped them and kept the process very orderly. Once everyone was on board and sitting down, the doors closed automatically. The train sped off down the track. Most people found comfortable seats, but Jeff remained standing. Through the windows he could see the massive expanse of the facility. The cost of such a thing must've been astronomical. But if this base was indeed an ark of some sort, built for the continuation of the human race, then they needed it large.
The metro zoomed along past several stations. Everything seemed to be well laid out and organized. In addition to rows and rows of crates and supplies, they passed an expansive garden growing corn, wheat, and other crops under specialized greenhouse lights. Then they sped by herds of livestock—cows, sheep, pigs. Further past that was a manufacturing facility making some type of electronics, manned almost entirely by bots.
Finally they slowed and then stopped. They exited across from a cluster of buildings rising nearly to the ceiling. Waiting for them on the platform were several military officers. One stepped forward.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for everything you’ve been through up to this point. This is not how we would’ve liked to have done this, but we really had no choice. My men and I are going to escort you to your living quarters, where you can relax and freshen up. In one hour you and the others already here will be addressed in person by President Diaz in our auditorium. He will explain everything to you then. And yes, you can bring children. Thank you.”
Shouts and questions burst forth from the crowd, everyone speaking at once. Many were concerned about friends and loved ones on the outside.
"I need to call my mother!" a young woman screamed.
"What's going on here! Why can't we leave!"
"What is the President doing here?"
"What about all of the people left on the outside? Are they going to die!"
Panic filled the room again as the military officer tried to calm them.
"Everyone, please. I still don't know all the details myself. The President will brief you in one hour. That's all I know."
Well, that told them nothing. Jeff and Whittenhouse exchanged sour looks.
As they started moving off with the group, an army captain tapped Jeff on the shoulder.
“Senator, Vice President Paulson has asked to meet with you in private.”
Jeff shook hands with Whittenhouse. “I’ll catch up to you later.”
The others headed off, and Jeff followed the officer inside the biggest and tallest of the buildings. It was about the size of the aircraft hangar above them. Inside was an expansive lobby stretching up several stories, covered in glass and marble. The government had spent a fortune on this structure, that was for sure. Straight ahead was a clear glass window stretching up the entire height of the building. Behind the glass was what looked like a small stadium. Jeff couldn’t make out what was inside the stadium from this distance.
An elevator door opened, and out walked Vice President Paulson. He had the same tough, determined look on his face that he always wore, and he remained a physically intimidating man even in his seventies. His steely blue eyes focused on Jeff.
Walking beside him was a beautiful Asian woman with straight dark hair and green eyes. She was tall, almost the same height as Paulson, with a slim figure, large breasts, and strong, tight legs. The woman wore a short red dress.
She was inhumanly stunning.
“Welcome, Jeff. It’s good to see you again.”
Paulson greeted him with a warm handshake as always.
“Thank you, Buddy. It’s good to see you again. But I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your companion.”
Jeff shook the woman’s cold hand, and she smiled to reveal perfect white teeth.
“But you have, Jeff,” she said to him.
Paulson smiled but looked slightly uncomfortable.
“This is Claire. She’s changed her look a bit since the last time you saw her.”
“Claire . . . You mean Claire? Wow!”
The last time Jeff had seen Claire, she’d been a blond Caucasian and looked much more robotic and mannequin-like. This woman standing before him looked and moved as much like a human as he or Paulson did.
“I enjoyed my Caucasian appearance, but twenty-eight days and eleven hours ago the Asian population in the United States exceeded that of the Caucasian. I thought it best to adopt the majority facial structure.”
Yes, still a machine, Jeff thought. A beautiful one, but a machine nonetheless.
“Now, as for this base..."
"Wait," Jeff held up his hand. "You need to tell me about Holly."
“Still no word yet. The team is on the ground now, but communication is out, possibly from radiation fallout. We’re trying to reestablish contact.”
Jeff tried not to cry and glanced away. He needed to gather himself and not display any emotional weakness. Paulson was doing the best he could, but it was tearing Jeff up inside to think that his wife may be dead.
Paulson placed his hand on Jeff's shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Jeff. We're doing all we can."
Jeff nodded. He wished they could do more.
“Any ideas on who was responsible?” Jeff asked, his voice cracking before he regained his composure.
“They received a com-drive just before the service bot came through with the bomb. A message was sent out from the drive and bounced around the stream using a cloaking cipher before being received by its intended recipient. We don’t know who that is yet, but I have my top experts on it. They’ll find out soon.”
“Sounds like someone from the future is working with someone from the present to put an end to our time travel endeavors. Are you sure this base is safe?”
“Oh, I have a few security tricks up my sleeve,” Paulson said, casting a quick glance over at Claire.
“I’m sure you do. Now, Mr. Vice President, what is this palace you’ve built for yourself here under the desert? And where the hell are we anyway?”
“Let me show you.”
They crossed over to the large window.
“This facility is fifty-three miles south of Baghdad, Iraq, just outside the present-day city of Hillah. However, you may better recognize the ancient name for this place. It was once called Babylon.”
They reached the glass, and Jeff peered inside. There in the middle of the stadium sized room was a hundred-foot-high doughnut, large enough for a plane to go through. It was a design he knew all too well, although on a much grander scale.
Paulson smiled as Jeff’s jaw dropped.
“Welcome to Chronos Two.”
Chapter 19
1:15 a.m., January 15, 2038
Project Chronos, Lechuguilla Cave
The elevator was turning into an oven. If they didn’t get out of it fast, it would become their crematorium.
“There are ladders on both sides; let’s climb to the top,” someone yelled out.
Holly grabbed Chen’s hand and closely following Tony Evangelista, they made their way in the dim light over to the sides of the elevator.
“You two stay with me,” he said. “I’m under orders to protect you at all costs.”
Holly had no doubt that he could. It was truly amazing what the new anti-aging treatments could do. Evangelista, thick and muscular, looked like he could take on an army. He helped Holly and Chen onto the ladder as others started pushing and shoving. Holly lifted her foot, but the heel of her shoe stuck and the bottom layer of rubber peeled off. It was getting even hotter. The floor was likely becoming radioactive as well.
About fifteen feet up, Holly emerged from the ladder onto the roof of the elevator. Chen waved several of their associates toward him, and Holly joined them.
“We’re still about a hundred and fifty feet below the surface,” Jing Wei said.
Holly was glad to see Jing had made it out alive. The elevator jerked again, and Holly grabbed on to Evangelista.
“The brakes aren’t going to hold up under this heat,” Evangelista said as he pointed to the side of elevator.
The rest of the group finished climbing up onto the roof and were looking around, illuminating the dark elevator shaft with lights from their holos. It was a long way up, but they could certainly continue their climb. Several people started heading up and more followed. Holly sure as hell didn’t want to wait on the elevator any longer, so she got on a ladder too.
It was slow going, but her biomechanical arm functioned well, and it had a vice-like grip, generating roughly ten times the pressure of a normal grip. While she hung on with that hand, there was no chance of her falling.
Occasionally she would glance down at the top of the elevator. It was slowly turning red, glowing from the heat of the nuclear hellfire burning under it. Everyone was off it now and making the plodding climb up to the surface. Holly turned back and bumped into Chen’s foot, dangling above her.
“They’ve stopped; I’m not sure why,” he said.
The dozen or so people up above were murmuring among themselves. Holly couldn’t make out what they were saying.
“We need Dr. Chen,” a man yelled out from above. “The doors are locked and require a security override.”
“Let me at it,” Chen said firmly as the people above him moved out of his way, hanging on to the outside of the ladder so he could go up.
As he stepped up, a loud grating sound bellowed out below. Holly looked down and saw the elevator jerk again before falling several more feet.
“Um, Tony, do you know anything about elevators?” she asked.
“I’m no expert, but this elevator likely has four brakes to prevent catastrophic falls. Two have already failed if my count is correct. If another fails, then it will fall.”
Nuclear physics was enough within Holly’s field of expertise for her to know what would happen then. The elevator would hit the bottom of the shaft and create a type of back draft, like the piston in an internal combustion engine did. Then the hot gas from the nuclear explosion, now trapped under the elevator, would explode upward into the shaft. If they were still there when the superheated radioactive blast hit them, they would be burned to ash.
They had to get out, and they didn’t have much time.
After several more minutes, which Holly used to imagine an exploding elevator shaft, a woman called down, “Holly, we need you up here!”
God, what now?
She climbed up, past anxious coworkers, followed closely by Evangelista. When she reached the top, she found Chen standing on a platform in front of two large metal doors and a control panel.
“The circuits have been fried from the outside.” Chen waved his hand in front of the control panel. “There’s no way to get these doors open. I’ve tried to reach someone out there, but all com-lines are down. Do you have any ideas?”
Holly pounded on the steel doors and screamed, “Somebody help! We’re trapped in here! Hello!”
Chen frowned in the dim light.
“I could’ve done that,” he said.
Holly stepped over to the panel. It had clearly been burned out. Even the old keypad control used for backup was inoperable.
A scream came from below. Holly and Chen looked over the platform’s edge. Vertigo instantly washed through Holly, and she grabbed onto Chen’s shoulder for balance.
Fifteen stories down the elevator had broken loose and now plummeted down the shaft. The retreating red-hot glowing box fell away rapidly, sparks flying on all sides. But it didn’t seem to be going at full speed just yet. Perhaps part of a brake was restraining it. But Holly didn’t think that would last much longer. Soon the final brake would fail, and the elevator would plummet at full speed down the shaft.
She shifted back over to the door, careful to keep her balance, and started pounding again. They had only a few minutes, if that. Others from the ladder tried to crowd onto the small platform.
Then someone screamed again, this time the sound grew distant as he or she fell down the shaft. Holly shuddered.
More hands and bodies pressed against her, and others started pounding on the door. The weight of the mob was crushing her.
Then the door shifted under her body.
“It’s opening,” she tried to yell out. But the air was forced from her lungs as more people crowded onto the platform.
The spot where the two doors met buckled, and a gloved hand broke through from the other side, twisting the metal back like Play-Doh. Then it grabbed onto one of the doors and yanked it off. Light poured into the dark shaft.
A boom reverberated from below. The elevator had hit the bottom.
Holly and the others pressing against her surged forward through the now open doors. She fell as the panicked crowd swarmed over her. Heels slammed into her back as the desperate and fearful scrambled over her to get away. She thought she was going to be trampled to death, but someone grabbed her and carried her away in their arms. Her savior was wearing a protective anti-radioactive suit, so she couldn’t see his face.
A low rumbling burst forth from the elevator shaft and grew louder and louder as the room began to shake. They were running through a large storage warehouse full of pallets of canned food and other supplies that were supposed to be taken down to the base later today. The people in front of her ducked behind thick steel columns.
“We’re not going to make it!” Chen yelled out as the rumbling and shaking became louder and stronger.
Holly glanced over the shoulder of the man carrying her and saw a wall of fire erupting out of the elevator shaft. It blasted through the warehouse, rolling toward the survivors. Then Holly felt a jerk, and in the blink of an eye she was cowering behind the nearest pallet of canned goods.
The blast hit like hell’s fury.
Instantly her savior was behind her, over her, using his body as a shield against the blast. The firestorm blew past them, burning through the pallet, intense heat all around. In seconds the whole thing was over.
Smoke filled the room, but the firestorm had passed.
Those unable to make it to safety behind the steel columns were scorched.
Holly rose to her feet, to find the man who’d protected her on fire. Flames flew from his back as his protective suit peeled off his body. Instead of writhing in agony as anyone else would, he casually patted his back and the side of his burned face to put out the flames. Then he reached over and picked up one of the cans of Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup from the warehouse floor, raised it over his head, and squeezed. The soup rained on his head and back like a shower, dousing the remaining flames.
Then the man tore off his burned clothes and the remaining half of his tattered mask.
“Hello, Holly. It’s good to see you again.”
Standing in front of her, smiling through burned lips that were already starting to heal, was Mattie Tedrow.
Chapter 20
5:15 p.m. Local Time, January 15, 2038
Hillah, Iraq
Paulson smiled at the shocked look on Jeff’s face as he stared out at the time travel generator of Chronos Two. It was rare to surprise that man. All things considered, it had been a gargantuan task to keep this base a secret all these years.
Paulson recounted the history of the base.
They’d first started construction after the U.S. invasion of Iraq in 2003, although Paulson was laying the groundwork and making contacts months before that. The public premise of the invasion was to look for weapons of mass destruction, but the real reason was to secure Iraq for the construction of Chronos Two.
The funding for the base had come out of the Iraq infrastructure rebuilding funds. Paulson always thought it was funny that no one on Capitol Hill had ever questioned all the hundred-million-dollar girls’ schools they were building here. Of the billions of dollars flowing into Iraq for the last thirty years, only a small portion went to rebuilding. The vast majority went to a much more important project, an ark for the salvation of humanity.
Not only was Chronos Two the largest particle collider in the world powering a massive time travel vortex generator, but it was also an ark of the grandest scale. Noah would be speechless if he saw what they’d built. The completely self-sufficient community could house and feed ten thousand people comfortably. Plus they had a gene and seed bank that contained all the world’s known plant and animal species. If the surface of the planet were inhospitable for humans after E-Day, then they could live underground until they came up with a solution to the virus and nanobot swarms.
“I have to say, Buddy, this is truly amazing. You’ve planned for every contingency here. Why didn’t you tell me about this place before now?”
“I wanted to. But we had a spy working against us in the first timeline, and I wanted this place to remain hidden. Even the workers who built the base were shipped in from outside the country—in windowless planes—and housed in private quarters. For the two years of their contracts, they had no idea where they were or what they were building. We followed Dr. Chen’s and your plans for the actual time vortex generator, but went a bit grander here. And Claire was a tremendous help as well.”
Paulson glanced at his ever-present shadow. Claire’s mental processing power had expanded exponentially over the years, as had her outward human appearance. It was hard to believe she’d been simply a square box when he first got her forty-seven years ago.
“Why here?” Jeff asked. “Why Hillah, Iraq?”
“For the time travel aspect, of course. Babylon was founded in 1894 BC on the banks of the Euphrates. The cradle of civilization. Many believe the Garden of Eden was somewhere around here too. If we want to truly explore our past, then we need to be right where it all started so long ago. Long jumps at Chronos One at Lechuguilla would have been good for exploring old Native American tribes and the flora and fauna of past epochs, but for real interaction with our own civilization, this is the place to be.”
They hadn’t completed any of these long jumps yet, though. Anyone they sent back would have no way of returning to the present. So they needed to build another time machine in the past. They had all the supplies necessary to build a small vortex generator in the distant past, twenty thousand years ago, at a base that would be robotically maintained throughout the millennia. Any research and exploratory teams sent back would be able to access the base and return to the present. But before they could begin any of these grand projects, they needed to survive past E-Day. That was the priority now.
“So with another active time machine here, have you learned anything more about E-Day?”
“No,” Paulson said, the word bitter on his tongue.
Just as with Chronos One, they’d received no communication from the future beyond today. Jumps were scheduled out for several months past E-Day and they had chrononauts ready to go at a moment’s notice with up-to-the second information. There was no reason someone shouldn’t have jumped back to tell them what happened. If everyone lived, they should most certainly get a message, but even if everyone on the surface died, then the Chronos Two base should still be operational and able to conduct time jumps.
It made no sense.
They’d even sent several human chrononauts and bots into the future, just past the time of the meteor shower. None of them returned.
The mystery made Paulson’s stomach knot up. He’d been in battle before, but not knowing what would happen, that was something he could never get used to.
They continued walking, and after tours of the control room and other critical areas, Paulson could tell Jeff was tiring.
“Come on, let me show you to your quarters.”
“As much as I’d like to rest, I don’t think I can, worrying about Holly like this. You still haven’t heard anything from your team?”
Paulson was getting concerned as well. He’d sent his best men out there, including Mattie Tedrow, who never failed on a mission. Even his old pal Tony Evangelista was there, running security. The team’s electronics were shielded from EM pulses, so a nuclear blast shouldn’t have damaged them. They should still be able to communicate.
Paulson pressed the side of his eye and the local time—1815 hours—appeared in his vision, along with a timer counting down the seconds to the meteor shower. They had only eight hours. Both digital clocks disappeared a second later. They were certainly cutting it close. They needed to get the survivors, if there were any, transported from Chronos One here to Hillah.
A chime sounded in his mind—finally, a message.
“Mr. Vice President, it’s Evangelista. Are you there, sir?”
Paulson tapped the back of his ear.
“I’m here. Report.”
“The base has been completely destroyed, and we are unable to enter the underground facility at this time due to high radioactivity levels. We do have survivors. They managed to make it to the surface before the blast hit them.”
“Is that your team from Chronos?” Jeff asked anxiously.
Paulson turned his palm over and touched it to activate his holo. Evangelista came into clear view above his hand. He was in a warehouse. Pallets and boxes were smoldering as men in radiation protection gear put the flames out.
“Is Holly Scarborough there?” Jeff asked, panic rising in his voice.
“Jeff! Jeff! Is that you?”
The voice came from just off camera. Evangelista turned and walked to where Holly was sitting, being checked by medical personnel.
“Oh, baby, thank God you’re alive! Are you okay?”
“I’m safe, but it was horrible. The entire base has been destroyed. We lost a lot of good people, and we’ve lost everything we worked our entire lives for.”
Holly burst into tears.
“It’s okay, Holly,” Jeff said, trying to comfort his distraught wife. “You’re not going to believe where I am now.”
Paulson held up his hand, asking Jeff to stay silent.
“This location is still classified; you can’t say anything about it over a com-line. She’ll find out about it soon enough.”
Jeff turned back to the holo.
“Holly, they’re going to take you out of there. We’ll be together soon. I promise you.”
Paulson jumped in. “Holly, can you tell us what happened?”
Holly briefed them both. Paulson was glad she’d made it out alive. She was certainly a fighter. He knew that from the very first time he met her. Paulson was glad to hear that Chen made it out as well, with just minor but treatable radiation burns.
When Holly got to the part about who rescued her, she paused.
“Jeff, you may remember the person who saved me. Mattie Tedrow.”
Jeff was too excited that his wife was alive to take in her revelation. Paulson had told them Mattie had escaped after the fight in San Diego all those years ago. In reality he’d had him the whole time. Mattie had agreed to become a part of his team, and become a part he had. In some cases he was the whole team. Mattie’s abilities were nothing short of superhuman.
After finishing school on base, where he lived with his mother, Mattie received Special Ops training and went on to participate in a wide variety of missions all over the world. He and Paulson had become close over the years. In many ways, Paulson thought of Mattie as another son.
In addition to his incredible healing abilities, strength, speed, and stamina, Mattie possessed a photographic memory and the ability to learn at an accelerated pace. Then there was the whole aging thing. Mattie was fifty-one, but didn’t look a day older than twenty-five. None of the experts could say what his lifespan would be.
Mattie had chosen to stay in the military and had steadily risen through the ranks to colonel. He could easily be a general by now, but he enjoyed the field work, and there was the whole issue of his youthful appearance. It simply brought up too many questions. Plus Paulson was cautious. Even though Mattie had never shown any disloyalty or strange behavior, Paulson had long wondered what would happen when the nanobot swarms returned. Would Mattie lose control and become a puppet controlled by the unknown enemy?
Paulson was never one to leave anything to chance, so he kept Mattie in the field, far away from Chronos Two today. Plus he kept a man close to him, ready with a special EMP weapon, just in case Mattie turned.
“Wait, did you say Mattie Tedrow?” Jeff looked at Paulson, brow raised. “So you had him this whole time? What’s he been doing for you?”
“I’m sorry, Jeff, that’s classified. Let’s just say that Colonel Tedrow has been an integral part of the team.”
Jeff frowned at Paulson and furrowed his brow, then his expression eased into a half smile. “Very well.” He turned back to Holly.
“Holly, I’ll see you soon, dear. I love you.”
“I love you too, Jeff.” She blew him a kiss, then moved off camera. Evangelista came back into view.
“I assume you have a hypersonic transport ready to pick them up and bring them here?” Jeff asked.
“After the medical team finishes with them and clears the survivors for travel, we’ll get them on the plane,” Paulson said. “They should arrive here in plenty of time.”
“That’s cutting it close, but I trust you to get the job done.”
Jeff patted him on the shoulder.
“I think I’ve had enough excitement for now. I need some rest. We have another long night ahead of us.”
Jeff looked tired, but the uncertainty over Holly was gone, and his body had lost its brittle stiffness. Paulson had no doubt he’d be able to sleep for a few hours.
“My assistant, Melinda Rider, will escort you to your quarters.”
He called Melinda in and directed her to take Jeff to his room, then he turned back to Evangelista.
“Is the transport ready to go?”
“Yes, sir. We’ve already started loading the staff onto helicopters to take them to Holloman. We should be in the air within the hour.”
“Very good, Tony. I need to talk to Colonel Tedrow now. Paulson out.”
Paulson closed his eyes and brought up his link to Mattie. He came into view on the holo. His face was darkened from burns, but his skin healed even as Paulson watched.
“Colonel, your assessment?”
“In addition to the bomb, the base was also sabotaged on the ground level. The control panels on all freight elevators were fused shut. I was lucky enough to be able to get through in time to rescue most of the people in one of the elevators. The others didn’t make it.”
Shit, they’d lost thousands.
Mattie squeezed his lips together and stared firmly at the camera.
“Sir, this was an inside job. Only someone who knows the base’s security protocols would’ve been able to disable the elevators like this. Would’ve even thought to do it. I’m sifting through footage now to figure out who is responsible. I’ll catch this traitor or traitors, sir.”
Paulson’s stomach churned at the thought of another spy. In the videos he’d received from his future self, there was talk of an undiscovered traitor who’d placed a bomb on Air Force One, killing nearly everyone on board. He wondered if that same traitor could be working against them now.
“Keep a close watch, Colonel.” Paulson paused to consider his options.
“Mattie, I don’t need to tell you that the traitor could be standing right beside you. It could be anyone. Whether they are being controlled in some way by nanos or acting of their own free will, we have no way of knowing. Be vigilant. Stay aware of anything out of the ordinary.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll finish reviewing the information in transit to the airport. If I find anything, I’ll let you know. Tedrow out.”
The holo of Mattie faded, leaving Paulson alone with his thoughts. He was worried about what would happen to Mattie when the meteor storm arrived. Even though all the scientists said he was now immune to any type of mind control exerted by the nanovirus still coursing through his veins, there was a lingering doubt about what would happen when the virus was reintroduced to Earth’s atmosphere.
Would he be able to resist the pull on his mind?
The last thing anyone wanted was for Mattie to turn into a raging homicidal maniac. Despite Paulson’s feelings for him, if Mattie turned, he wouldn’t hesitate to give the order to put him down.
They would know soon. There were just a few hours left before they discovered whether their preparations were enough or humanity would end.
Paulson said a quiet prayer and began striding toward the base control center. He still had details to take care of. For the most part they’d been ready months ago, in case the attack happened early. But despite having decades to prepare, like always, most chores didn’t get done until the last minute. The difference now though was if they weren't ready, they never would be, because they'd all be dead. With that thought in mind, Paulson picked up his pace.
The marathon had turned into a sprint to the finish—one that he had to win.
Chapter 21
7:30 a.m. Local Time, January 15, 2038
En Route to Holloman Air Force Base, New Mexico
Colonel Mathew David Tedrow felt the rattle in his seat as the Chinook lifted off from the Chronos base. They were headed to Holloman Air Force Base, where a hypersonic military transport plane was waiting. From there they would travel to Paulson’s secret base.
Mattie had absorbed enough clues, without even trying, to figure out basically where the base was located. From troop and vehicle movement orders he’d seen out of the corner of his eye, and idle talk among government contractors and military men, he figured the base was somewhere in Iraq.
He could also tell from Paulson’s reaction to the destruction of Chronos and from experience that the old man had a backup. So Mattie quickly surmised that the secret base was in fact another time travel facility. And while his deductive powers were far from ordinary and not many other people in the world could figure that out, someone could. If they’d been able to destroy Chronos, then they would likely go after a second base as well. He hoped Paulson was ready.
He surveyed the haggard group surrounding him. Most had minor skin burns, but a few had to be treated on the spot for severe radiation trauma. Those sad few were in stretchers at the back of the copter. He doubted many of them would make it.
The thought at the top of his mind, however, was that one of them could be a traitor. The sabotage had to have been an inside job; someone who worked at the base had sent the bomb through the vortex from the future. That person would not have died in the blast, which meant they were sitting somewhere on one of the copters, waiting to strike again when the opportunity arose.
Mattie turned to Holly Scarborough, who was sitting beside him. It’d been thirty-six years since he last saw her, but he remembered the day well. She looked very good for a woman in her seventies. The anti-aging treatments of the day did an amazing job. He liked the white streak flowing through the middle of her blond hair. It was a nice touch that added intellectual maturity to her appearance. She turned to meet his gaze.
“So, Mattie. It’s been a long time. How long have you been working for Paulson?”
“A while now, ma’am. I find the work...interesting.”
Mattie certainly did like the adventure his job involved. Plus he felt he was doing his country a great service. But at times he missed a stable life. He was constantly on a mission and had very little downtime. His duties made it hard to have a long-term relationship. Melinda Rider, Paulson’s assistant, was the exception. They were together for nearly two years, and she’d wanted to get married, but Mattie shied away and broke it off. In the back of his mind he’d always taken a wait and see approach—wait and see if the world ended today, wait and see if he lost control of his own mind. Not exactly solid supports on which to build a marriage and a life with someone.
If they had a happy ending and survived this crisis, then maybe Mattie would look at scaling back his missions and settling down. Yet he felt that a happy ending for him was just a pipe dream.
“Colonel, we have some strange activity on the ground,” the pilot interrupted his thoughts.
“What type of activity, Captain?”
“Well sir, it’s . . . Maybe you should get up here.”
He hastily unbuckled his belt and bolted to the front of the copter. Stretching out below them and to the horizon was the Lincoln National Forest—trees blanketed with newly fallen snow.
But something instantly disturbed the tranquil scene.
The white trail of a missile zoomed toward the Chinook flying beside them. It hit the copter, and a giant ball of fire pulsed outward, debris erupting through the sky. A propeller blade shot over and slammed into their cockpit window, cracking it open. Rushing wind filled the copter as it jerked violently to the side. The pilots struggled to keep control, and Mattie grabbed onto a strap hanging overhead.
“Evasive maneuvers now,” screamed one of the pilots.
The Chinook swerved to avoid the fireball and debris.
“Mayday, mayday! We are under attack! This is transport Tango Alpha. Tango Beta has been struck by a SAM and destroyed. Request immediate assistance!”
The wind from the broken cockpit window blew into the helicopter like a tornado, whipping papers into a frenzy. A flash of light, a reflection off a metal surface on the ground, caught Mattie’s attention.
He tapped the co-pilot on the shoulder and bellowed, “Countermeasures now! There’s another missile launcher down there!”
“Sir, we don’t have countermeasures or weapons of any sort loaded. This was supposed to be an hour-long transport mission over U.S. soil. We weren’t expecting to be attacked.”
“Hell, I’m still in training learning how to fly this bird,” the other pilot yelled.
A distant spark ignited on the ground, and another missile rose up out of the forest to chase them, a thin trail of smoke following it. The pilot jerked the Chinook again, trying to evade the streaking missile. But Mattie could tell it was a heat-seeker. The Chinook transport wasn’t fast enough to outrun or outmaneuver it.
He had to do something.
Time slowed.
Mattie’s brain processed the situation and came up with the only solution available. Moving at his highest speed, he grabbed a plasma grenade strapped to his leg and hurled it through the broken cockpit window.
The grenade flew at the missile at tremendous velocity, striking it right on the tip, just a few hundred feet away from the Chinook. Both exploded in a ball of fire.
But the explosion was too close.
The Chinook flew right through the blaze, and the pilots lost control. The control panel beeped as the helicopter rocked and shuddered. The passengers screamed.
“The engine’s been damaged,” the pilot said as he struggled with the throttle. “And we’re leaking fuel.”
Mattie braced himself against the wall.
“Is there anywhere to set her down?”
“Not in this forest. Nothing but trees and rocky cliffs in this section of Lincoln.”
Mattie could see the treacherous terrain below.
“Can you keep this beast in the air long enough for everyone to parachute out of here?”
“I’ll try, sir,” the captain said. “But you better hurry. You can bet the attackers are loading up another missile.”
Mattie jumped to the back of the copter, his adrenaline pumping. He had no time to waste.
“We’re under attack by a missile team on the ground!” he yelled out.
Mattie held up his hands to quiet their replies as the copter swerved again.
“If you remain calm, my team and I will get you through this, but you need to listen to us and do exactly what we tell you.”
The scientists and engineers were already in shock after nearly dying from a nuclear explosion. Now they were under attack again. How much more could they take? Mattie hoped they could handle a lot more.
“We’re going to jump; we have parachutes for everyone. Reach under your seats and pull one out. My men and I will make sure they’re secured correctly.”
More gasps and wide-eyed looks of surprise came from the group. Mattie was certain none of them had ever parachuted out of the back of a Chinook.
“This is easy,” he assured them. “You can do it and we’ll help you. But we don’t have much time, so hurry.”
The group struggled to put on their chutes as his men helped a few of the older passengers. Mattie grabbed his own parachute and strapped it on. Back in the cockpit the pilots struggled to keep the copter level.
“Sir, what about the injured?” Evangelista asked.
“Strap them in tandem with the men. We’re not leaving them behind.”
They’d already lost enough people that day; there would be no more deaths on Mattie’s watch. Anger stirred in his heart as he thought about all those killed on the other copter as they’d thought themselves finally safe.
“Sir, the fuel is almost gone,” the pilot said. “Ten minutes maybe, then we go down. I’ll wait until the very end before engaging the autopilot in case another missile comes at us, then I’m getting out with you guys.”
Mattie helped the last of the passengers with their chutes, then started lining people up and hooking their static lines.
“You won’t need to pull anything. These chutes are designed to open when you exit the copter. All you have to do is jump. When you land, keep your legs under you. The chutes carry beacons, and we’ll be able to find you.”
Looks of terror remained plastered on their faces. One older woman backed away from the line of jumpers and collapsed on a seat, hands shaking uncontrollably. Holly sat beside her. She spoke softly, with her arm around the woman’s shoulder, comforting and encouraging her.
They needed to go now.
“Start jump sequence,” Mattie ordered the master sergeant.
The back of the Chinook opened to reveal blue sky and a vast forest below them a long way down.
The Chronos survivors began jumping, one after the other out of the back of the copter. At any hesitation, the master sergeant pushed them. They didn’t have time for anyone to slow them down.
Soon they were all out and parachuting to the ground. Holly was the last of the Chronos group to go, and Mattie was left with the pilots.
The engine sputtered.
The pilots bolted to the back and dove out into the air. Mattie followed right behind them as the Chinook spun out of control. He’d skydived many times, but he always felt the same euphoria, the same punch to the gut as his body fell from the sky.
His parachute opened behind him and he looked down, trying to find a clear landing area, using the chute’s handles to guide himself. The air and wind were perfect for maximum maneuverability. The landscape was dotted with fir and pine trees poking up out of a recent snowfall. He hoped the others were lucky and found clearings to land in, but most likely he and his men would be pulling them out of trees.
They weren’t far from Holloman Air Force base in Alamogordo, but trekking through the forest in deep snow on foot would take them hours. He could only hope the base had received their distress call and would send a rescue team soon; otherwise, they risked getting caught out in the meteor storm, and he knew all too well what that could mean for him.
He continued scanning the landscape as he floated down. He could tell roughly where the others had landed, spread out over several miles. He also had a bead on where the rockets were launched from. That would be his first objective. The last thing they needed was someone hunting them down.
Minutes later Mattie maneuvered his parachute to a rocky outcropping bare of trees. He quickly unharnessed his chute and spread it out to make a signal for the rescue copters he hoped would be coming.
Once he climbed down from the rocks, he took off into the woods. It would be slow going in the snow, even with his enhanced speed, so he pulled out his knife and cut a few branches off a Douglas fir. He quickly molded the branches into makeshift snowshoes, a skill he’d learned in Special Forces training. He strapped on the shoes and headed out to the last spot from which the attackers had fired their missiles.
He soon picked up their trail, a clear path through the snow. He followed it for a short time before coming across the remains of a campsite. The fire was smoking ever so slightly.
They were close.
The trail split up into three directions. All headed out to where the parachutes had come down; the attackers were heading out to finish their job. He made a quick mental note of where they split up, then followed the path on the right.
Crack.
The branch snapping under the snow would be imperceptible to a normal man’s ears, but Mattie heard it loud and clear.
One of the attackers had stayed behind.
He crouched low, then sprang upward to the first branch of the pine tree nearest him. Just as he did, a bullet struck the spot where he’d been standing. He could instantly tell from the angle of the snow splash where the shot came from.
He grabbed the tree branch and swung himself up, shinnying up the tree like a monkey, away from the line of fire. A hundred feet in the air, near the top of the tree, he stopped and pulled out his assault rifle. After a quick adjustment to the scope, he took aim at a small spot two hundred yards away.
“Got you, motherfucker,” he whispered under his breath.
He fired once.
Normally one shot, one kill. Only this time it was one shot, one wound because he couldn't get information from a dead man.
He swung down from the tree, flipped in midair, and landed in a snow bank. A second later he was on top of the attacker. The man was wounded in the lower back, right through the spinal column, rendering his legs useless. He could only lie there as Mattie stood over him.
The attacker wore a ski mask, goggles, and heavy winter weather gear. Mattie pulled the mask off. Long dark hair cascaded down over the shoulders of the attacker.
It was a woman—mid-twenties and beautiful.
“Who are you?” Mattie said firmly, his gun trained between her eyes.
She said nothing, spitting at him.
Mattie jammed his thumb into the bullet wound in her back. She screamed in pain.
“Who are you?” he asked again.
“I am a servant of God,” she said in a heavily accented voice. The accent was clearly Middle Eastern, quite possibly North African. The woman’s dark complexion gave further proof to his theory.
“And what does God want?”
“He wants blasphemers and unbelievers to die a painful death—to be wiped from the earth like vermin.”
Her eyes widened as she spoke, adding to the fervor of her words.
“But I’m a believer,” Mattie said calmly. He’d had enough experience with religious extremists to know how to speak with them to gain the greatest psychological advantage.
“What do you believe?”
The woman had said God, not Allah, which could mean she was not Muslim, but it could also mean that she was just using the wrong word in English. He thought he had her accent down now, so he spoke in Arabic, with an Egyptian accent.
“I believe that God has a purpose for all.”
The woman looked shocked and switched to Arabic as well.
“And he has a high purpose for me. The highest of all.”
This time Mattie picked up on her regional dialect. She was most likely from Cairo.
“And that is?”
“To kill you!”
She screamed as she pulled a knife from her jacket and tried to stab him.
He let her.
It hurt, of course. But he was using a psychological ploy that only he could accomplish, so he endured the moment of pain. Then he stood up, ripped open his shirt so she could clearly see the knife embedded in his gut, and waited.
It only took a few seconds before his body pushed the knife out and it fell to the ground, splattering his blood over the white snow. Then his wound healed, his skin sealing up like a zipper.
The woman gasped and stared at him, mouth open, eyes wide.
“Are . . . are you an angel? Am I dead?”
The woman began touching her body to make sure it was still there.
“I am a messenger from God.” Mattie flexed his vocal cords and spoke in a much deeper voice. “Speak the truth and you shall be able to enter the kingdom of heaven.”
The woman’s hands began to tremble.
“We’ve been following the word handed down for centuries, from the holy parchment that speaks of the end times passed to my ancestors by an angel, one of your kind. The parchment speaks of those who would try to prevent the coming Apocalypse and the coming of the Lord. It tells us that they must be stopped at all costs.”
Mattie thought for a moment. Both Islamic and Christian religions believed in the end of days and both the Koran and Bible had text speaking of the Apocalypse. But what was this holy parchment she was talking about?
“How do you know that now is the time of the Apocalypse?”
“The sacred parchment gave us the exact date, which we've kept secret. Only the members of our special sect know that it's today, January fifteenth, in the year of our Lord 2038. But you know all of this already, do you not?”
She was becoming suspicious of his ruse. He needed to wrap this up quickly, then get this woman and her companions back to Holloman for more thorough questioning.
“I am testing you, my dear. Now tell me, have you put our other plans into place yet?”
He was grasping at this one, but he needed to find out what else this woman and her group had planned.
“Each cell has specific orders. We have no idea who the others are or what they are planning. My orders were simply to come here at this exact time and shoot down any military helicopters flying over the forest. But I do know this: we have agents everywhere, and we will not stop until the prophecy is fulfilled.”
Beep, beep.
Someone from Mattie’s team was trying to contact him. He didn’t want to take the call in the middle of an interrogation, but it could be important. He tapped the back of his ear.
“Colonel, Evangelista here. Two snipers ambushed us and killed several of the Chronos survivors. After an exchange of fire, we were able to take one out and capture the other. However he took poison and killed himself. Are you okay, sir?”
The woman stared at him intently. She was grimacing, obviously in pain, but she was also calculating her next move. Mattie chose not respond to Evangelista.
“Who sent the bomb back?”
“What bomb? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He could tell from the subtle movements of the muscles in her face and the dilation level of her pupils that she was telling the truth. She continued to look into his eyes with cold venom.
“You’re no angel, you’re something else. A deceiver. One of Satan’s horde. You have no power over me and my fellow believers. We shall win in the end. And we will bask in the glory of Christ the Lord.”
The woman smiled and reached for something in her jacket. He easily grabbed her hand before she could get to it. But she kept smiling, and he heard a crack from inside her mouth—a fake hollow tooth breaking.
He reached up and pried open her mouth. A tiny wisp of smoke puffed out. Cyanide. A very old but still effective suicide technique used by captured spies since the days of the Cold War.
The smile left her face, and she began shaking violently. He backed away, and seconds later her seizures subsided and she lay dead in a twisted mess.
There’d be no more questions for her, but there was one more thing he could do to confirm his suspicions. He took off the dead woman’s jacket, unbuttoned her shirt, and pulled it down enough to reveal her arm.
There, tattooed inside the upper part of her right arm, was a cross. It had two bold lines intersecting in the middle at right angles. At the tip of each line were three points. In the center of the thick lines bright colors—purple, red, and yellow—weaved through the cross like vines.
Mattie blinked to pull up stream access and found the symbol immediately. It was a Coptic Orthodox cross, the twelve points symbolizing the twelve disciples, the Coptic writing on the outside translating to Jesus Christ Son of God.
The Copts were the native Christians of Egypt. The sect dated back to the introduction of Christianity in Egypt by Saint Mark around 42 AD.
Mattie blinked off the Stream, then accessed his own memories. He recalled a reference to the Copts in a report filed thirty-six years ago by then Lieutenant Commander Charles Paulson. Mattie had read it as part of a briefing many years ago.
A Coptic group had tried to assassinate Paulson while he was working undercover in Iraq in 2002.
But the Copts had no history of extremism, nor had they postulated any kind of jihadist agenda. But somehow this sect had gotten their hands on a parchment that declared the exact date of E-Day. All signs pointed to temporal manipulation. Somebody from the future had influenced the group.
Suddenly the conspiracy became much deeper, extending back not just decades, but centuries.
Chapter 22
10:30 a.m. Local Time, January 15, 2038
Ranger Cabin, Lincoln National Forest
Holly crossed her arms and rubbed her hands on her shoulders, trying to help the fire warm her. She only had a thin jacket, not the thick winter coat she needed for these conditions. Of course, she’d thought she’d be a mile underground at the Chronos base rather than sitting in a ranger cabin in the middle of a dense forest during a snowstorm.
They’d expected a rescue party to come for them by now, but no copters could land with the blizzard raging. It’d be at least several hours before the storm cleared, which left them trying to make the best of a horrible situation.
She looked around at her fellow scientists and engineers. None had been ready for a day like today. Many spent more hours working in virtual reality than they did in the 3-D world. As a result, their muscles had atrophied and they could handle very little physical exertion. And everyone was scared. They’d already faced two attempts on their lives, and soon a third would be raining down from the sky.
Several of the top members of the Chronos team knew what was coming, but not all. Full disclosure would’ve leaked out to the general public and caused widespread panic. Those who did know looked anxious. None of them wanted to be out in the open in four and a half hours.
The gravity of the situation weighed on Holly’s mind. How could someone nuke the base, killing thousands of her coworkers and their families—destroying one of the greatest scientific achievements in all of history, the only chance they had to save humanity if all else failed?
She stepped away from the fire, allowing three chattering children a chance to warm up, and made her way to a window. Outside the snow was coming down hard and swirling in the wind. She tried to hold back her tears, tried to stay strong, but suddenly she broke down and began sobbing. She leaned forward so her head touched the cold window, rhythmically tapping her forehead against the freezing glass. How much more tragedy and hardship could she endure?
The tears continued to flow, but she felt a warm hand grip her shoulder. She turned to found Patrick Chen standing beside her, leaning on crutches. His eyebrows furrowed together in concern, and what looked like a tear at the corner of his eye was quickly blinked away.
“Took a bit of a tumble on my landing,” he said, nodding toward his leg, which was covered in a biocast. “We’ll get through this, Holly. Don’t lose hope. Not now.”
She sniffled, wiped her running nose and eyes, and tried to regain her composure.
“You need to try some of the happy juice they pumped me full of for the pain in this leg. It might help us both forget this day.”
Holly tried to smile, but bitterness stuck to her, as cold as the snow and ice clinging to the trees outside. All the backbreaking work over the last decades obliterated in an instant . . . No jokes or words of consolation could mend how she was feeling.
The door to the cabin opened, wind and snow pouring in like a fury and wiping away Holly’s thoughts. A man walked forward wearing snow gear and a ski mask and carrying an assault rifle. He shook the snow off his body and pulled his mask from his head.
It was Mattie.
He quickly said something to one of his men, then turned to address the group.
“You can relax for now. My men and I have scouted the area and there are no signs of hostile gunmen. We’ve established a perimeter, and this cabin is secure. After the storm passes, a Chinook transport copter should be able to land near here and take us to Holloman Air Base. Until that time, I suggest you get some rest.”
Mattie signaled Holly and joined her.
“Are you okay?” He spoke with warmth and his eyes held true concern.
Holly nodded as she wiped her eyes again, the last few tears drifting slowly down her chin.
“I know you’ve been through a lot. We all have.” Mattie glanced around at the others huddled in the cabin’s living room, in front of the fireplace. Holly looked as well.
Some were crying, others were numb, as though they were still in shock. Very few were socializing. The severely injured lay in the corner, military medical personnel trying to keep them alive and as comfortable as possible until they could get them to a fully equipped treatment center.
“I was hoping we could talk later.” He gently placed his hand on her arm. “If you’re up for it. Someplace private. Would that be okay?”
Holly nodded, wondering what he had to tell her, wondering if he knew exactly what was about to happen.
“Sometime in the next hour. Just stay close.”
“Okay.”
It wasn’t like she was going anywhere. Not in this snowstorm. She passed the next hour or so catching up with news on the Stream and chatting with some of her coworkers, trying to comfort them as best she could. Most were simply inconsolable. Their world had been devastated. Many had lost family members. Holly couldn’t help weeping again as she visited with each person. Finally Mattie came for her.
She followed him up the stairs to the second floor of the cabin and into a bedroom that looked like the personal quarters of the ranger. He pulled up two chairs.
“Thanks for joining me, Holly. The vice president has asked me to personally head the investigation into the bombing of the base. I just need to ask you a few questions to clarify some leads I’m following. Is that okay?”
“Of course.” She wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery as much as anyone.
“Who would be able to access the vortex on their own?”
“You mean without the entire team helping them? No one. The system is too complicated for one person to operate it alone. It would be like one astronaut launching himself into space without the help of anyone at NASA. It’s technically not possible.”
“How many people would you need then? Minimum.”
Holly thought for a moment. She’d never considered that before. It must’ve taken a sophisticated, coordinated effort to get a nuclear bomb into the Chronos base and then send it back in time.
“You could realistically do it with only five people. But it’s highly unlikely those people would be working together for some type of evil cause. Don’t you think it’s more likely they were forced to open the vortex?”
“That’s a logical assessment. Despite the tight security around and within the base, a tactical team of covert operatives could’ve pulled this off. The scientists in charge of the vortex could’ve been forced to send the bot back. The bomb was covered, so they may not have known what they were sending.”
“But I don’t think any of our people would agree to that willingly. They all know the damage that could be inflicted to the timeline.”
“Don’t be too sure. I’ve seen trained men much tougher than your group down there crack under the right kind of pressure.” Mattie pointed down to the floor below them. “Plus, remember that everyone had their families with them too. That would’ve provided the bad guys leverage with which to threaten your people.”
“It sounds like we’re just guessing,” she replied, indignant.
Holly knew what Mattie said was true, but it angered her nonetheless that her coworkers and friends could be forced into something so horrible.
“Let’s move out of speculation then,” Mattie said.
Holly was happy to move on. The discussion was beginning to feel more like an interrogation.
“I need you to recall everything that happened before the bomb came through the vortex. Anything you can remember would be helpful. I’ve looked at all the videos and LiveStreams, but I still feel there’s something I’m missing.”
Holly rubbed her forehead and thought back to the early morning hours at Chronos.
“Well, I couldn’t sleep at all last night, with everything coming to a head today. So I finished up some work, then headed to the cafeteria. On the way there, the vortex alarm went off, indicating something had arrived from uptime.”
Holly searched Mattie’s face. “Do you know what that was?” she asked.
Mattie stared at her for a second, as if assessing her level of trustworthiness.
“A com-link data drive. It sent a message out to someone, then transferred a large amount of encrypted data. Our experts are working now to figure out what the information was and who received it. Unfortunately, we can’t analyze the com-drive, as it was destroyed in the blast.”
Well, that was a dead end. Holly had no idea what information the drive contained or the content of the message.
“So then you had a midnight snack?”
“Yes,” Holly continued. “A midnight snack, breakfast, whatever you want to call it. I was hungry.”
Her stomach growled as she thought about her last meal. It’d been a while since she’d eaten. Mattie, as if reading her thoughts, asked, “Hungry?”
She nodded, and he pulled an MRE from the pack on his back. He pressed a button on the top to heat it up, then opened it and handed it to Holly. A delicious aroma filled the room.
Mattie smiled.
“I hope you like meatball subs. These MREs have actually gotten better the longer I’ve been in the service. Or maybe I’ve just gotten used to the taste.”
Holly grabbed the sub and took a huge bite out of it. As she was chewing, she thought back to that meal she’d had with Conner, Howard, and Jing Wei.
“Security was looking for Dr. Howard Nichols,” she said, mouth full of delicious sandwich. “He took off in a hurry just before they got there. Do you know what that was about? Could he have received the data from the drive?”
“It seems that Dr. Nichols had received unauthorized encrypted data from the future. Last week in fact. Whether he was the recipient of the last communication, we haven’t yet determined. “
“What? How?”
With all the security protocols they’d set up and the checks and verifications on objects and people coming through the vortex, Holly didn’t see how it was possible to get anything unauthorized through without everyone knowing immediately.
“He managed to piggyback the encrypted data on top of another signal. Quite ingenious, but not smart enough for your mainframe not to eventually pick up on it. That’s why the security team was after him.”
“Do you know what he sent?”
Mattie grinned.
“He was foolish enough to send back the results of this week’s sporting events—all of them—to last week. Looks like your man Howard was trying to make a quick fortune. We’re still tracing the money he took in from his bets, but it’s a sizable amount. I guess he was hoping for an early retirement if the world didn’t end today.”
Holly was surprised Mattie knew so much already. He obviously had extensive computing and analytical support. She thought back to the discussion she and Conner had about Howard’s gambling problem. But having money problems was one thing; sending a nuclear bomb back in time to kill thousands and destroy the Chronos base was quite another.
“Do you think he could have been responsible for the bomb?” she asked.
“I haven’t ruled out that possibility,” Mattie said, scratching his head. “Dr. Nichols has already left Holloman and, along with the other transferees, is en route to meet Paulson at another base. We’ll hold him for questioning when he arrives.”Mattie paused before adding, “You had another breach as well.”
Shit! What the hell had Chronos security been doing, sitting around with their thumbs up their asses? Holly thought they had had the situation under control, but apparently not. Then it hit her again—all of the lives lost that day—her friends and coworkers, her entire life's work destroyed, their only hope to save humanity if all other plans fail. This time she couldn't hold the tears back.
Mattie reached out and touched her shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Holly. I know this day has been horrible for you. It's more than anyone can take. I'm doing my best to help. Together, hopefully, we can get to the bottom of this and prevent any other attacks."
Holly looked into Mattie's eyes wondering just how much she could trust him. He was right though. There would be time to grieve later. Right now she needed to get through this crisis and stay strong. Most importantly though she needed to find out who was responsible for the attack. Her despair slowly began to morph into hatred and a desire for revenge.
"Tell me about this other breach," she said, wiping tears from her cheeks.
“This one was much harder to weed out. Someone sent news data from yesterday back three days ago. Again, it was buried under another transmission, so it was hard to detect. It was mainly general headlines, celebrity fluff pieces, local news, things of that sort. Claire is sorting through it now to see if there were encrypted messages hidden in the data, plus she’s checking for ties to anyone from Chronos.”
Mattie held up his finger. “Wait, that’s her now.”
Mattie closed his eyes.
Yes, run it by Claire, Holly thought. Everyone loved Claire. But Holly didn’t trust her. In her first timeline, during her graduate studies, Holly had been involved with designing some of the earliest predictive AIs to help with her black hole stabilization theories. She always found them to be problematic, sometimes making leaps in logic when presented with incomplete information. Of course they had to do that to be predictive, but sometimes those leaps just didn’t make sense.
Claire was the latest generation of those AIs, complete with an intuitive learning algorithm. She’d been created by military brainiacs, and her level of sophistication was far beyond any machine ever created. And that had been nearly five decades ago. During the time since, Claire had learned and evolved. Into what, Holly wasn’t quite sure.
Mattie opened his eyes.
“Hmm . . . ” He gazed thoughtfully into the air. “It seems there was an obituary in the news linked to one of your senior staff members. A Dr. Charles Zhang was reported killed in a car wreck yesterday morning. Do you know him?”
“Of course. That’s Jing Wei’s husband.” Holly glanced away as the information sank in. “But he’s sitting downstairs with her right now.”
Mattie tapped his ear.
“Sergeant Miller. Can you bring Jing Wei and her husband, Dr. Zhang, up here, please? I’m sending you a picture. And, Sergeant, use caution.”
Mattie listened for a few seconds, then glared at Holly.
“Jing Wei and her husband have gone missing. They won’t get far in this storm; we’ll find them.”
Mattie stood up. Holly wondered which other of her colleagues might have used Chronos for their own selfish reasons. Perhaps the temptation of using a time machine to rewrite personal history was too tempting to resist.
“Why would they mess with time, especially now, knowing how critical every action is?”
Mattie stopped before leaving, but not to answer her. He tapped the back of his ear again, and listened without moving
When he was done, he met Holly’s eyes.
“That’s not the only thing,” he said, frowning. “Claire extended her investigation of Jing Wei in light of this new information. Apparently her deception is more extensive than trying to save her husband. Claire found video footage showing Jing Wei in recent contact with a suspected Chinese spy. It seems she may have been passing along Chronos secrets to the enemy.”
Chapter 23
1:45 a.m. Local Time, January 16, 2038
Chronos Two, Hillah, Iraq
Thirty minutes before the Global Meteor Shower
Jeff stared at the floating 3-D holo of deep space sent directly to them from a MadisonTech surveillance satellite. He was in the main command center at Chronos Two. Standing beside him were the President of the United States, Martin Diaz; Vice President Paulson; Franklin Whittenhouse; Secretary of Defense, David Calhoun; several generals and other military brass; and Claire. On various other holos and video projections around the room were military commanders and world leaders.
The witching hour was at hand, and the room was tense with anticipation.
Whittenhouse moved his hand across several projections of data hovering in front of his face. Others in the room were logged into the neural net, seated comfortably while their minds worked diligently in virtual reality.
“There, I think I see it.”
President Diaz pointed at the image of deep space.
Jeff reached up and expanded the view, zooming in on one area. It was barely visible, but sure enough, something reflected the sunlight ever so slightly, like sparkles with tiny trails of light flowing out behind them.
“Wow, it looks huge,” Secretary Calhoun said, sounding shocked.
Jeff tapped the image and pulled up distance measurement.
“It’s about ten thousand miles in diameter, easily large enough to blanket the entire planet.”
Several people in the roomed gasped in astonishment.
"No chance of that thing missing us," one general said.
“Everything is ready,” Whittenhouse said as he stepped back from his holo. “There’s nothing else I can do until the earth passes through that cloud.”
Jeff glanced around at the world leaders hovering and peering down from the walls around them. Most were allies, including the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom and the President of the European Union. Even the President of the Russian Federation was there. Notably absent were the Chinese. Paulson and Diaz had never been able to convince them of the threat. It didn’t matter, though. What they had planned would move forward without Chinese participation.
Jeff and the other leaders watched as the vast meteor cloud inched closer and closer until it filled the screen. Soon everyone had ceased what they were doing and simply stared at the cloud.
Tiny particles hit the satellite camera lens, ricocheting off the glass, flying closer and closer to Earth.
“Just a few more minutes now,” Jeff said quietly.
“Switching to surface cameras,” said a technician seated nearby.
The scene changed from deep space to the night sky from Earth. The lights of a major city were off in the distance, over the horizon.
“This scene is from Northern Virginia, just outside of D.C.”
Quite fitting, Jeff thought.
The first time he saw this meteor shower was forty-six years ago—a lifetime. He wondered what his other self, the one from this timeline, was doing right now. The young Jeff Madison from the present day had not been at Chronos One as a designated survivor. Through some twist of fate he’d chosen not to go into politics. He was still an attorney in Virginia Beach and still married to Sarah. He hoped they were happy. He’d check periodically, out of curiosity, but he thought it best to just let the other him live his life out in peace. Maybe he’d find the happiness that evaded Jeff in his past life.
As for the State of the Union address, it’d been scheduled for next week. President Diaz had more pressing matters to take care of today. He’d ordered the entire Congress gathered up by the military earlier in the day and brought in to Chronos Two. No one was told details on what was going on, only that some terrorist attack was planned. So for now the government was secure. Jeff imagined the other world leaders had taken similar precautions in their respective countries.
“I must say, I didn’t completely believe it would happen, not until now, not until actually seeing it with my own eyes,” Diaz said, staring at the holo as the first of the meteors began falling.
“We’re reaching atmospheric saturation,” one of the technicians said.
“Initiate Phase One,” Paulson ordered.
Holos flickered around the room as technicians returned to their screens and virtual environments. Jeff knew what was happening. Slowly, miles above the earth, satellites were turning and focusing on specific points all over the planet. Relay stations on the ground were waiting for signals. And monitoring stations were tracking the spread of the meteor dust.
“Virus detected in the atmosphere,” a technician said.
“At these levels it will take approximately twelve minutes forty-eight seconds to reach full saturation,” Claire intoned.
“I hope this works,” Whittenhouse muttered.
They’d run simulations, but they had no true virus samples, just virtual representations, so this was their first and only field test. Jeff didn’t like leaving so much to chance, but they had no other choice.
The minutes ticked away slowly and painfully as they all waited. On the surface people were just starting to breathe in the virus-saturated air. It was filling their lungs and soon would be attacking their bodies.
“Full saturation in eight, seven, six . . .” Claire counted the seconds. “ . . . three, two, one.”
“Now!” shouted Paulson.
Fingers moved and eyelids jumped as the control room crew burst into virtual action.
Jeff felt a tingling just behind his ears, then suddenly deafening static filled his head, reverberating from his audio nerve. The room went dark for a half second as his vision faded in and out, his optic nerve connection to his brain momentarily disrupted. He knew above, on the surface of the earth, everyone on the planet was experiencing the same sensation.
“It’s working,” Whittenhouse said, pounding on a table.
The man was a genius. This whole plan was his idea from the start.
“Active viral levels in the atmosphere are dropping exponentially,” Claire said.
Almost everyone on the planet had a com-link surgically implanted beside their audio nerve in the inner ear. And most also had optical nerve implants. It was a simple procedure, done using Med bots at most retail stores selling com-link plans. Upgrades were simple to install as well. Those who didn’t have the com-implant had old-style portables. MadisonTech and its subsidiaries controlled about twenty-five percent of the com-link and portable markets, but they supplied one hundred percent of the motherboards used in all the devices.
What no one outside of a small group knew was that Whittenhouse had designed a tiny electromagnetic pulse generator to fit on every motherboard of every com-link and portable on the planet. Seconds ago they’d sent a signal out over the network for the EM pulse generators to activate.
Deep inside everyone’s skulls, tiny EM pulses emanated outward, hitting and destroying the microscopic mechanical parts of the techno-organic nanovirus. The same pulse also came out of old portables. If everything worked correctly, then the virus would be rendered inert and harmless. The worst symptoms anyone would feel would be similar to those from a minor cold.
As for other electronics, they’d been shielded from EM pulses. Congress passed several laws mandating EM pulse shielding following the nuclear detonation over Stillwater, Montana, thirty-six years ago. Other countries followed suit. Now all electronics, from computers to car parts, had pulse shielding.
“Initiating second pulse,” Whittenhouse said calmly.
This second pulse was designed to catch those sparsely populated areas of the world and places where people were unable to afford com-links or portables. For those areas they’d integrated EM pulse generators onto the tops of cell towers, disguising them as communication arrays.
A map of the earth appeared on the main holo. Red circular pulses began popping up all over the globe, indicating where the pulse waves were being generated. First there were just a few, then hundreds and thousands sprang forth, like popcorn.
“Atmospheric active viral counts still dropping,” Claire said.
President Diaz patted Paulson on the back.
“Looks like things are going as planned.”
Paulson wasn’t smiling and showed no signs of relief.
“For now,” he said. “Let’s check in with Bellany at the CDC.”
The doctor’s face flashed up.
“Good evening, Mr. President, Mr. Vice President. Test subjects are showing complete viral breakdown. The EM pulse has destroyed the mechanized components of the virus, just as the simulations showed.”
“Any signs of the virus repairing itself?” Jeff asked.
“Not at this time. I can’t rule it out, however. This virus is particularly strong. Yet by rendering it inert as we have, the human body’s natural defenses can take over and completely eradicate it, just like with an inoculation. Of course we’ll need to study this one in detail for many years to understand it better.”
“Doctor, I want you to know that we’ll be keeping only a small sample of this virus and safely under government supervision,” Diaz said firmly. “All other batches are to be completely destroyed. Do you understand me?”
Bellany looked for a half second like he might protest, but he simply said, “Yes, sir. I agree that this virus is far too dangerous to have around in significant quantities.”
“Keep us posted if anything changes,” Paulson added, then turned to Diaz.
“We’ll need to monitor the atmospheric levels as well. If this virus survived in space for any length of time, then it may have some resistance to electromagnetic radiation. In which case we’ll need to hit it with several more EM pulses before morning. Then hopefully Mother Nature and the elements will finish the job for us.”
Paulson, ever the firm Navy SEAL commander, turned to General Thaddeus Rowan’s holo from NORAD.
“Are we ready for Phase Two, General?”
“At the president’s command, sir.”
“We’ve got a few hours yet,” Diaz said, glancing around the room. “I need to consult with some of the other world leaders to be sure everyone else is making it through this. Let me know if anything changes.”
He glanced up at Paulson and put his hand on his shoulder.
“Excellent work, Buddy, Jeff . . . Whittenhouse . . . You too, Claire.”
Diaz raised his voice and addressed the room.
“Everyone . . . Excellent work on Phase One. But, as you all know, this attack is not over yet. Let’s all show courage and we will defeat these attackers.”
With Diaz leaving, others in the room started to shuffle out as well. They still had several hours before the first wave of the expected nanobot swarms hit. But if their enemy changed tactics they were prepared as well. Their offensive and defensive arsenals were at full alert. If the assailants revealed themselves in any way, Jeff was sure the generals were looking to take this fight to their mysterious enemy and move away from their defensive posture. All they needed was something to aim at.
But let the military guys handle that. It was time for Jeff to check on Holly again. He patted Paulson and Whittenhouse on their backs and walked out to the hallway. As he moved out of the tense command center he finally let out some air. He felt like a small weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Just a little bit though, the bulk of the pressure was still there. There was much to be done and this nightmare was far from over. But, he could just barely see the light at the end of the tunnel. And he was running toward it as fast as he could.
Chapter 24
4:15 p.m. Local Time, January 15, 2038
Holloman Air Force Base, Alamogordo, New Mexico
Holly stood beside Mattie and watched as the meteors streaked across the sky. They’d just arrived at Holloman AFB and stepped off their Chinook transport copters, the snowstorm having cleared out in early afternoon. She glanced over at Mattie, knowing she was acting like a curious scientist.
“How does it feel?”
Mattie narrowed his eyes and turned his head to the side in puzzlement.
“How does what feel?”
“The nanovirus coursing through your body. Can you feel it?”
Mattie smiled.
“Funny, no one has ever asked me that before. But you know, if I concentrate, I can sort of feel it. And sometimes after extreme exertion or in times of extreme danger, I can feel something click inside of me, like a switch going off. Then I get a power surge. It’s hard to explain.”
“Are you scared?” Holly asked intently. “About what could happen to you today?”
Mattie’s smile went away immediately.
“Terrified.”
Holly decided not to press the issue; she was afraid enough for the both of them. Instead she looked around her. Holloman was a flurry of activity, clearly on high alert. Fighter jets were being prepped, weapons and equipment moved, and troops were running in formation to who knew where.
She followed Mattie across the tarmac to a large waiting area on the outskirts of the runway as fighter jets streaked overhead, powerful and fast. The injured in her group were wheeled off on gurneys to the base infirmary.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be okay, Patrick” she said, gently patting his shoulder.
“Well, I won’t be getting my morning jogs in any time soon, but as this old leg gets used to my new biocast, I should be walking without crutches in a little while.”
With the latest advances in medical technology, broken legs could be healed very quickly and most people could expect very little in terms of pain and limited mobility afterwards.
Holly glanced over at Jing Wei and her husband, Charles, both in handcuffs, heading to base interrogation. Mattie had tracked them a short distance into the Lincoln National Forest. They hadn’t gotten far, and he said he found them huddled under a blanket, trying to make it to the nearest road. The supersoldier apprehended them easily and brought them back to the ranger station. They hadn’t said a word since Mattie cuffed them. Holly knew they would talk eventually. She was sure the military had sophisticated mind-probing techniques that could extract information directly from the brain, even if the subject didn’t want to talk.
She felt sorry for Jing for just a second. Maybe all she wanted was to save her husband. Holly would do the same if she knew Jeff was going to die in a car wreck. But Holly wondered if her friend was indeed a traitor. That whole business of meeting with a suspected Chinese spy turned her stomach. If Jing had worked with the Chinese to destroy Chronos, then she was truly evil and deserved everything she got.
As Holly walked, she felt a tingle behind her ear. Then everything went dark, and static filled her ears. She knew it was Whittenhouse’s EM pulse emanating from her com-implant—she’d tested it a few years ago—but it was unnerving nonetheless. It only lasted a few short seconds, then her vision and hearing returned to normal. Up ahead of her, Mattie had collapsed to the ground. Evangelista was standing beside him, weapon drawn, pointing it at Mattie’s head.
Holly approached slowly, not sure what to expect. Was Mattie turning? Would he attack everyone on the base and kill them all? Her heart was pounding as she examined his face.
“Ahhhh,” Mattie moaned.
His face was changing. The once young face of a man in his mid-twenties slowly decayed into that of a man in his nineties, but a man in a time before age treatments were available. Wrinkles formed around his eyes and mouth, age spots appeared on his skin, and his body began to shrink, transforming from the lean, muscular frame of an athlete to the frail skin-and-bones frame of a fragile old man. He appeared much older than his fifty one years.
Holly gasped, she couldn't believe her eyes. What had happened? Had the nanovirus burned through Mattie's body, reversing their youth giving properties and aged him beyond his years? Was it contagious? She backed away in fear and disgust.
Evangelista called over a medic.
They lifted Mattie and placed his weakened body onto a gurney.
“What happened? Where am I?” he spurted out, his voice rough and gravelly, like a man who had strained and re-strained his vocal cords.
“Mattie, they’re going to help you,” Holly said to him, her voice quavering. She was still shocked at his transformation.
“Oh, my back. My back is killing me,” Mattie grumbled.
He stared off into the distance before turning to Holly again.
“I’m sorry, what did you say your name was? Do I know you?”
“I’m Holly Scarborough, Mattie. A friend.”
She tried to hide her sorrow as the medical staff wheeled him off. Mattie had gone from superhuman to pitiful before her eyes. His old injuries, long healed, coming back to haunt him once again. She wasn’t sure which was a worse fate, aging instantly and losing your memories or having your mind controlled by a nanovirus. Either way, Mattie appeared to be lost. Shaking, she turned to Evangelista.
“Would you really have shot him in the head?”
“Without hesitation.”
Holly glanced at the gun again. It was equipped with an EM pulse cartridge as well as a high-caliber round and some other attachment she didn’t recognize. Paulson likely had the weapon specially designed to kill Mattie, to handle his supersoldier healing abilities. She wondered how he could make tough calls like that and was glad she was not in a position to have to do the same.
She walked into the waiting room on the side of the tarmac, leaving the others behind. It would be an hour or so before the next hypersonic transport was ready to shuttle them to the secret base. In the meantime, Holly needed to call Jeff so that they could update each on what had been happening.
No, that wasn’t why she was going to call. She needed to hear his voice.
After a short conversation, Holly felt invigorated. He still had that effect on her after all these years. She knew she was too old to have the butterflies of young love dancing in her stomach, but they were there anyway, fluttering and flapping around. They were halfway through this crisis and would be together again soon. She hoped.
She found a comfortable seat in the airport waiting area, next to troops about to be deployed. She thought it might be good to catch up on the latest news, news that would be much different from this same time so many years ago. A tap on her eyelids brought up a virtual newsfeed. A quick run-through revealed nothing too out of the ordinary. There were mentions of the meteor shower from the traditional news outlets and a lot of chatter on the social streams, but no talk about anyone getting sick. There was also early coverage of the com-link blackouts and news reports on traffic accidents as people blacked out for a few seconds. Overall though, they were lucky.
Holly tried to distract herself with the latest silly animal videos, but nothing did the trick. There was simply too much happening or about to happen to find any peace in mindless distraction. Some time passed before a tap on her shoulder pulled her away from a fluffy kitten riding on the back of a Great Dane. She looked up and found a young soldier standing over her.
“Ma’am, the transport is ready to board. Did you have any bags?”
“Just the clothes on my back.”
She’d left everything she had at Chronos. No matter, it was all replaceable. She stood and shuffled into line. Chen was up in front, already walking, with a slight limp, biocast still in place.
She blinked to check the time. Seven thirty. In the first timeline, half the world’s population had already died by this time, including President Diaz, whose violent death was shown on worldwide Streamcast. But this time around the world was eerily quiet.
Holly glanced at the dark sky overhead. Where were the nanoswarms? Were they just sitting there, waiting to attack? The first fireball had landed above Chronos at nine a.m. the next day in the first timeline. They didn’t have data on any other landing sites, so the swarm attacks could very well have started earlier elsewhere. That still gave them ample time to fly out and get to the other base.
She was about to step onto the stairs to enter the transport when something caught her eye, streaking out of the night sky. It was bluish-green and much larger than the tiny meteor showers they’d seen earlier in the day.
Oh no.
Everyone around her began pointing up, staring at the object hurtling at them. Even the troops paused to stare, open mouthed. An officer snapped them to attention, barking orders.
“All civilians back inside immediately!”
Alert sirens rang out across the base. On the perimeter, under lights, EM pulse cannons swiveled upward, toward the streaming meteor. Holly turned around and headed away from the transport. Away from Jeff once again.
She looked back over her shoulder at the meteor. It was hard to tell, but it looked like it was heading straight for them. They still had a hundred yards or so to the waiting room. Holly didn’t think they would make it.
She was right.
The meteor zoomed overhead, blue fire trailing behind it, the force of its path pressing down upon her with gale force winds. She and everyone standing beside her were knocked to the ground.
A huge explosion lit up the far end of the runway where the meteor hit. Dirt and debris flew high into the sky as the explosion rattled the surrounding buildings.
Holly struggled to her feet. One of the military officers was screaming orders, but deafened by the explosion, she couldn’t understand a thing. She tried to find her way back to the waiting room, but everything was chaos. She was disoriented, and people were running in all directions.
Someone grabbed her hand. Patrick Chen. He was saying something, but she still couldn’t hear. He pulled her off the runway. Slowly her hearing began to return. She heard the loud base siren, then she heard Chen.
“We have to get inside, Holly! Come on!”
They moved toward the nearest building as fast as they could. Jogging up beside them was Tony Evangelista, looking as fit and ready for action as ever. He looked over his shoulder, then stopped. Holly did the same.
Far down at the other end of the tarmac, a blue-green orb rose from a deep impact crater. It hovered in the air, shimmering from the base's lights, steam rising from its surface into the cold winter night.
“Holly, Chen, we need to get inside now,” Evangelista said.
Holly stumbled backward, staring at the orb. The entrance to the waiting area was just a few feet away.
The orb moved forward.
Holly and her group reached the sliding doors to the waiting room and backed inside. She could still see everything outside through the glass.
“I don’t think these doors are going to do much stop that,” she said to Evangelista.
Strobe lights suddenly hit the orb from all directions, lighting up its reflective surface. Then a missile fired from one of the base towers struck it. But the explosion was muffled, and the orb didn’t seem affected at all.
From her narrow viewpoint Holly could see several EM pulse cannons perched around the base swivel and take aim at the advancing orb. Those monsters were much improved over the early cannons they’d used to fight the first nanobots thirty-six years ago.
The cannons fired in unison, hitting the orb, cutting right through its heart.
Tiny glittering dots fell to the ground like snowflakes.
The orb exploded apart, turning from a solid ball into a gaseous cloud.
Holly knew all too well what that meant.
"Oh no," she whispered. "We need to get back. We need to get out of here."
Chen and Evangelista looked at her as she tried to back away, terror spreading through her body. But she couldn't move. She was transfixed by the scene outside.
The cloud spread out in all directions, hitting jet fighters and other aircraft still on the runway. The high-tech machines began to melt away like sandcastles in the rain as the nanobots overran them. Overhead, another meteor streaked by and landed with a crash somewhere nearby.
A few dozen feet away, the swarm hit one of the soldiers running for cover. His face began to peel away, revealing bare teeth and then skull as the bots devoured his body. Holly grabbed onto Evangelista’s arm and held it tight as her own arm began to tingle. She flashed back to her last close encounter with the nanobots in Lechuguilla Cave. She’d sooner die than have those things eat her flesh again.
The swarm came closer.
She unconsciously began tapping the window in front of her—three, two, one, three, two, one—as she stared in horror. She’d cured her OCD long ago with a psychotherapeutic bio-implant, but in times of high stress, her brain became too overloaded for the implant to function properly.
“Look.”
Chen pointed to dozens of missiles firing out of silos surrounding the base. A loud whomp reverberated each time the missiles went up, like the sound of fireworks shooting out of their tubes.
“What are they aiming at?” Evangelista asked. “The swarm is here.”
The EM pulse cannons fired over and over again, but the swarm was too spread out now to be destroyed, and it was growing.
The missiles flew up, high over the base, then stopped, as if their engines had given out. Then they exploded overhead. But instead of a bright fireball of explosive power, each missile generated a red dome of light that spread outward and dropped rapidly to the ground.
Was this a new kind of pulse weapon?
The domes of light fell in waves, connecting together. They hit the ground like a giant red waterfall.
Holly jumped back in horror as part of the swarm hit the glass doors right in front of her. The tiny nanobots dug their claws and teeth into the glass, trying to break through.
Then the pulse wave hit them.
And they began to writhe and twist uncontrollably.
In seconds they all fell from the door onto the ground and lay there clicking and flicking their wings, trying to rise again. All over the base the swarm dropped to the ground in a metallic hailstorm.
Outside, military men and women emerged from half-devoured tanks and transport vehicles. Several started stamping the nanobots under their boots. Holly, Chen, Evangelista, and a few others in the waiting room came out as well. Holly kicked a pile of bots with her boot. None of them moved.
It was over.
Cheers rang out from all over the base. Men and women embraced in victory.
Had they won? Was the fight really over?
Another blue-green meteor streaked by overhead and -landed farther away.
The base EM pulse missile defenses activated immediately and fired toward the crash site. More red-dome pulses fell in the distance. No orb emerged from the crater.
Their new defenses were holding.
They were winning!
Chapter 25
5:00 a.m. Local Time, January 16, 2038
Chronos Two, Hillah, Iraq
Sighs of relief spread through the command center, then slowly people began to applaud and even cheer The new pulse missiles and EM cannons were working perfectly. Reports were coming in from military bases all over the planet, telling how the nanobots were falling crippled from the sky.
But to Vice President Paulson, it all seemed too easy.
Of course they’d planned for this for decades. They knew the nature and exact time of the attack, so they were ready. But the identity of the attackers still puzzled Paulson. He and his team had spent countless hours trying to figure it out, following lead after lead, all resulting in dead ends.
They’d planted spies in all the major governments and terrorist groups, but found nothing. No one was capable of creating a nanovirus or these horrible nanobot swarms, much less shooting them into space on a rocket.
Until they figured out who they were fighting, the war would never be truly over.
“Looks like we’ve done it, old pal.”
President Diaz wore a big smile and was already smoking a cigar.
“Care for one? Cuban—straight from my cousin’s farm.”
Paulson shook his head. He’d never been much of a cigar man. He preferred a nice glass of scotch when the occasion presented itself. But he didn’t feel he was there just yet.
Diaz frowned at him.
“Come on, we’ve won. It’s over. We’ve saved the world from annihilation. The Apocalypse will have to wait for another day.”
“We still don’t know who did this,” Paulson grumbled.
“We’ll get them,” Diaz said, casually brushing away Paulson’s concern.
“We’ll continue our investigations. We still have all our covert operations in place. Whoever’s behind this will make a mistake revealing who they are. Then we’ll come down on them and crush them like we have these metallic insects they’ve thrown at us.”
Diaz glanced away for a second, his hand still on Paulson’s shoulder.
“Hey, Natalia. Can you be a sweetie and grab everyone some champagne?”
Diaz smiled as he stared at the Venezuelan intern’s ass as she walked away.
“Mmmm. She’s a hard worker, that one. If you know what I mean, Buddy.”
“Uh huh.”
Paulson cracked a half smile as he too watched Natalia hip sway her way out of the room, turning heads as she walked out.
“Buddy, we need to talk. In private.”
Claire was touching his arm.
Diaz glanced at her, a sick smile crossing his lips.
“Yes, you two go talk. I have some generals to congratulate.”
Diaz looked up and down at Claire’s body before he walked away. Paulson knew exactly what he was thinking, but he didn’t feel sexually attracted to Claire at all. He assumed she was fully functional, although he’d never really thought about testing those functions. Despite her beauty and outwardly human appearance, she was still just a machine.
They walked outside the command center, leaving the cheers and jubilant celebrations behind. Down the hallway they found a quiet conference room and sat at the large table in the middle of the space.
“What is it, Claire?”
“The virus has been rendered inactive and the nanobot swarms have been destroyed. Satellite surveillance detects no signals anywhere on the planet.”
“Yes, thank God. It looks like we’ve done it, Claire.”
“I don’t think this is over yet.”
Paulson stared into Claire’s blue eyes. Despite her Asian appearance, she’d kept those eyes. She blinked occasionally, another human trait she’d added recently.
“What data do you have to support this hypothesis?” he asked her.
“None. I know it’s against my programming, and my very nature, to make assumptions without an inkling of data to support them, but several troubling events have unfolded that lead me to believe that something else is happening here.”
“What do you mean? Are you talking about the destruction of Chronos One?”
“Exactly. I’ve analyzed Mattie’s data on the attackers who tried to destroy the rescue copters. It indicates a plot related to manipulations of the time stream.”
Paulson shifted in his chair. “Yes, someone wanted to make sure Chronos One was destroyed, and they tried to assassinate me to prevent Chronos Two from ever being constructed here in Iraq.”
Claire nodded and said, “Which means they came from the future or had knowledge of the future.”
Paulson frowned. “So we’re left with the assumption that the attackers who created the virus and the nanobots are from the future. But if they succeeded, wouldn’t they destroy themselves? Their future would no longer exist, right?”
Claire paused for a second before saying, “If they’re human.”
Those words hit Paulson like a sledgehammer.
He’d given the idea thought before, multiple times, but dismissed his thoughts as beyond farfetched. Still, only nonhuman attackers would want to destroy all humans on the planet. And both the virus and nanobots had robotic components.
“So, Claire, are we looking at some kind of artificial superintelligence from the future?”
“Maybe. I’m still analyzing all the possibilities. I need more data.”
Paulson looked at her closely. His mind was working the possibilities as well, although at a much slower pace than Claire did. However, he did have the advantage of creativity, a trait still in its infancy in Claire’s repertoire.
He decided to ask a risky question.
“Are there artificial intelligences on the planet right now capable of this?”
“Only one.”
Claire sat unblinking, unmoving.
He tried to stay calm as his heart rate increased, then he casually eased his hand down to where he kept a weapon hidden in his pocket. He’d always wondered what Claire was turning into as she evolved. Did she now see humanity as a threat to her existence and want to annihilate everyone? He had to ask the question.
“Did you do this, Claire?”
She glanced down at his hand, then looked into his eyes. Her head turned to the side, and a trace of sadness crossed her face.
Sadness? How was that possible?
“After all these years, you question my loyalty?” Claire blurted out, showing what looked like emotion. “I could’ve killed you any time I wanted. I could’ve destroyed Chronos One and Two with a thought. I could’ve let the human race be wiped out thirty-six years ago when the first nanobot swarms flew out of the Stillwater mines. No, Buddy, I did not do this.”
Paulson slid his hand away from his weapon and put it on the table. She was right. She’d been fighting on his side all along, saving his life and helping to save humanity. No, a force from the future, possibly one yet to even be born or created, must be responsible for the attacks. Or would Claire evolve into that force? That was the real question. For now, though, she was on their side, and he had to treat her as an ally.
“I’m sorry, Claire. I didn’t mean to accuse you. I have to be ready for all possibilities. You know that. So what do we do? Just continue to gather data and see where it takes us?”
“There is one other thing, Buddy—we have still received no messages from the future.”
She was right. They’d had no communication with themselves past the last jump, which was about six hours ago.
“When is the next scheduled communication?”
“Two hours.”
That meant something was going to happen in the next two hours to prevent them from sending a communication back to the past.
“We need to stay at high alert then, and we should run a quick test on the equipment to make sure it's still working properly”
Claire nodded, then turned away. When she turned back, she said, “President Diaz has just given the order to let some of the citizens staying here leave and return home. I would recommend against such action. At least for the next two hours.”
“I agree. I’ll talk with him. That’s if I can pull him away from his champagne and cigars.” Paulson pushed his chair back and stood up.
“Claire, thank you for all you’ve done. You’re my most trusted confidant.”
He placed his hand gently on her shoulder as she stared up at him.
“I’m just trying to do what’s best for you and humankind. Sometimes you need to be saved from yourselves.”
She rose and smiled as well. Then she leaned forward and hugged him. Under her soft body he felt her superhuman strength as she squeezed him in a tight embrace. Then she lifted her face and kissed him. She was warm, and her lips soft and full. She even smelled like a human woman.
It was the same scent his wife used.
Her tongue thrust into his mouth, awkwardly fishing around, like a teenage girl’s first kiss. He reared back, startled, but her steel-like hold prevented him from moving anything other than his head a couple of inches.
“Claire, no . . . I’m sorry. My wife . . . ” he managed to stammer out.
Claire looked surprised.
“I’m sorry, Buddy. I thought . . . I thought you . . . Your eyes . . . Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m still not good at reading human emotions.”
“It’s okay, Claire.”
She looked like she was going to cry again as she backed away and turned her head, covering it with her hand.
“You don’t love me, do you?” she asked.
He’d never seen her act this way before.
“Claire, I do . . . care for you. Just not in the way you’re thinking.”
He had no idea what she was thinking. He was still in shock, and it took quite a lot to shock him after what he’d experienced. Claire had always tried to mimic emotions in the past, but they were never convincing, never real. This seemed very real.
Claire turned cold, her face returning to its previous expressionless stability.
“I need to check on a few things. I’ll let you know if I receive any actionable data,” she said as she turned around and ran out of the room.
Yes, something was definitely different about Claire. She’d changed. She was less of a machine.
Was she sentient?
He wasn’t sure exactly what that would mean, but he knew one thing.
A sentient machine with Claire's power scared him.
Chapter 26
6:00 a.m. Local Time, January 16, 2038
Chronos Two, Hillah, Iraq
Jeff was walking down the hallway with a big smile on his face. They’d just done the impossible, and life was good. He bent his head to take a sip of alcohol-free champagne when Claire came running past him.
Was she crying? Was that even possible?
He knew she’d made some upgrades recently, but she was still just a machine.
Of course she was. She probably just had a leak of some kind. He was no robotics expert, so he didn’t know what kind of hydraulic fluid she needed to function. Whatever it was, he was sure she would sort it out. He wasn’t going to let Claire's maintenance problems spoil his mood, that was for sure.
He brought the champagne to his lips and took another sip, then high-fived some young scientists celebrating in the hallway. He’d helped save the world.
“Hey, babe. How’s it going? You on your way here yet?”
Holly popped up in a holo from his hand. She looked like she was in the middle of a party as well. Crowds were dancing and jumping all around her as music played in the background.
"We'll be heading out in the next few hours, or so I've been told. Several transports were damaged by the nanoswarm but should be back up by then."
“That doesn’t look like a military base. Where are you, at a nightclub?”
Holly laughed, that sweet gentle laugh of old, from before she’d borne the weight of the world on her shoulders.
“There’s a small club here on base, so a few of us decided to blow off some steam. Even Patrick is out, and he’s talking about rebuilding Chronos.”
Holly panned her hand around so Jeff could see the Chronos group and dozens of off-duty soldiers dancing under throbbing strobe lights. Dr. Chen was across the dance floor moving stiffly and limping slightly, but still attempting to dance.
“Yeah, about rebuilding. There’s something I need to tell you.”
Holly still didn’t know about Chronos Two.
“I can’t tell you all the details, but let’s just say our friend Buddy Paulson had a backup.”
Holly’s eyes grew wide.
“No! You don’t mean there’s another base—a second Chronos? Oh my God, Jeff! That’s incredible! And he kept it secret all these years?”
“Yes, he’s a sly old devil. The base is in Hillah, Iraq. But you have to keep this quiet. Don’t even tell Chen yet. You’ll be brought to the base soon enough, and you’ll have all the details then.”
Holly squealed like a young girl. It was the most excited Jeff had seen her since their wedding day.
“I still can't believe it until I see it with my own eyes—another Chronos. I'll be able to continue my work. Thank you for telling me, my love. The future is ours now, you know. It’s what we want to make it.”
“It always has been, my dear, it always has been. Although I must say I had my doubts over the years. I never thought we'd actually win. I never thought we'd change the world and save everyone. All those lives lost in our previous timeline, those people are alive because of us, Holly, because of what we've been able to accomplish over the last decades. And we've done it together."
Tears fell from Holly's eyes as the emotion of the moment swept over the both of them like a tsunami. Jeff's wiped his cheeks as his beautiful wife smiled at him.
"Yes, together, my love," she said. "We saved them. We've done the impossible, we've changed the future and saved humanity from extinction."
She wiped another tear away and smiled.
"We'll be able to celebrate in person. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Okay.”
Holly blew him a kiss goodbye, and the holo faded away.
It was early in the morning in Hillah, although Jeff had no idea of the exact time—being underground, he couldn’t see the sun or stars. His body was still on New York time, so for him it felt like ten p.m. He was too excited to go to sleep, so he thought maybe he’d explore the base a bit. Perhaps he could find a restaurant or nightclub or something. He asked a couple strolling past, who directed him to a holomap showing the layout of the base.
A couple of taps in the air, and his destination was mapped out. A yellow line indicating the path to the metro appeared on the floor. Well, not actually on the floor; it was being beamed to his retinal nerve so that only he could see it.
He walked past more smiling faces. Apparently the word had spread to everyone that the threat was over. They’d defeated their unknown foe. As he climbed up to the metro ramp, several families holding suitcases were getting ready to board. One man among them was a senator from Virginia.
“Senator Ashcroft. It’s good to see you again.” Jeff shook his hand.
“Senator Madison, Jeff, good to see you again as well. Wow, how about all this?” Ashcroft gestured to the surrounding base.
“American tax dollars at work. Of course we don’t need it now. I guess we could turn it into a museum or something.”
Ashcroft laughed. The VIP bunker was a vast and amazing thing, but Jeff was glad that they didn’t have to use it as humanity’s last refuge.
“I think we should keep it around just in case the end of the world comes up again,” Jeff joked. “There may be a giant asteroid or something waiting out there for us.”
Ashcroft held up his finger.
“Very true, very true. It’s always best to be prepared. Have you met my wife and son?”
Ashcroft introduced them, and Jeff shook their hands.
“You all headed home?”
“President Diaz gave the word just a little while ago. As much as I’d like to stay and explore this place, duty calls. I need to be back in Washington tomorrow.”
“I think I’ll probably head back tomorrow myself. Until then I’m going to see what sort of entertainment this place offers.”
Jeff smiled again and waved goodbye. So everyone was leaving. If he were in charge he would give it at least a day or so, just to be sure no more threats were lurking over the horizon, but Diaz was not a patient man. Plus Jeff was sure that everyone just wanted to get out of there.
Before they could board the metro, the doors slammed shut.
“What the hell? This thing isn’t even half full yet,” Ashcroft said angrily.
Then the doors opened again and the lights on the metro car went out.
“Please exit the metro. Service has been suspended at this time.”
The voice announcement came via direct com-link.
“Well, I guess I’ll be walking,” Jeff said, waving goodbye to a frustrated Ashcroft and his family.
“Jeff, where are you?”
It was Whittenhouse calling. Jeff flipped his palm up, and a holo of his old friend appeared.
“Just taking a stroll. What’s up?”
“The base appears to be locked down. I think you should come back to the command center.”
Jeff grumbled and rolled his eyes. His job was done. They didn’t need him in the command center anymore. Paulson, Diaz, and all the brass could handle any issues with base security.
But how could he say no?
“Okay, I’ll be back in a minute.”
Jeff retraced his path. This time, instead of being filled with jubilant celebrations, he found the command center to be largely empty, with just a handful of technicians analyzing screens of data. Whittenhouse motioned him across the room.
“All EM pulse weapons satellites have been redirected away from the surface of the planet. We have no control over them.”
“What are they pointing at?”
“I have no idea, but they’ve been directed out into space.”
Jeff’s company, under Whittenhouse’s guidance, had designed most of those satellites, so he probably knew them better than anyone.
“How did you lose control of them?”
“I have no idea, but the guidance system’s been hacked.”
“Franklin, how is that even possible? Nothing can hack those systems.”
Whittenhouse frowned. “So we thought. We’re trying to reestablish control now, but multiple incredibly complex firewalls have been put in place, and they are constantly changing.”
“Do Diaz or Paulson know about this?”
“I wanted to tell you first.”
“All right, all right, let’s not panic. But we need to at least call Paulson in here. And why the hell is the base on lockdown?”
“I have no idea. I’m not familiar with the systems in place here at Chronos Two.”
Jeff beeped Paulson and asked him to come back to the command center. Moments later he came striding into the room, his face drawn tight.
“What’s going on?”
Jeff told him about the satellites, then asked, “And why is the base on lockdown? Nobody can leave. The metro isn’t working.”
“I don’t know,” Paulson said angrily. “But I’m going to find out.”
He looked away and tapped the back of his ear.
“Claire? Claire, where are you? Answer me, please.”
Jeff thought back to the crying android he saw running down the hallway.
“Is Claire okay, Buddy? I saw her earlier, and she looked like she was . . . crying?”
Paulson’s eyes darted back and forth, uncertainty flowing across his face.
“She . . . She’s been acting strangely lately. And she doesn’t want to talk with me about what’s bothering her.”
He tapped his ear again.
“Base Commander, this is Vice President Paulson. Put an alert out for Claire. I’d like her found and brought to me.” He paused to share a long look with Jeff before adding, “Use extreme caution.”
“Did Claire”—Jeff waved a hand at the data screens—“do this?”
“Possibly. If so, we need to find out why.”
Paulson looked away again, his jaw tight.
“They’ve found Claire,” he told Jeff. “She’s in the vortex chamber and refusing to leave. I’m going down to talk with her.”
“I think I’ll tag along,” Jeff said.
It was a short walk to the central vortex chamber. They found Claire standing patiently beside the vortex generator.
“What’s going on, Claire?” Paulson asked calmly.
She stared at him, not saying a word. Paulson stepped closer and put his arm around her.
“If this is about what happened earlier, I want to say I’m sorry. We should talk about it in private.”
Jeff had no idea what was going on between these two, but if he didn’t know any better, he’d say it looked strangely like a lovers’ quarrel.
Claire crossed her arms and pulled away from Paulson.
“I saw the query you made earlier.”
Paulson looked lost, then he frowned.
“I have to be ready for all contingencies, Claire. You know that. You’ve been acting erratically lately. The other Chronos base was sabotaged and destroyed. We know someone is still working against us using highly advanced technology. It’s possible you’ve been compromised.”
“I can assure you I have not been compromised. Nothing can get inside my circuitry. But the knowledge that you were looking into ways to shut me down makes me . . . makes me feel . . . ”
Claire looked confused, and her eyes began darting back and forth rapidly.
“The emotion doesn’t register properly in my programming.”
What was she talking about? Feeling? And was Paulson really trying to shut her down?
Paulson grabbed her by her shoulders.
“Claire, trust me. You know me. Shutting you down is the last thing I want to do. But the stakes are too high for me to turn my back on any possibilities. Someone could go after you; you know they could.”
Paulson was a shrewd one. He was always thinking not just one or two steps ahead, but five. Jeff was glad to count him as a friend.
It was time for Jeff to jump into the exchange.
“Claire, you’ve been one of our greatest assets over the years. Obviously, without you, none of this would’ve been possible.”
Jeff opened his arms and gestured to the vortex chamber and the base around them.
“Millions, billions, would be dead. But we’ve seen what this technology is capable of. If it is indeed from the future, then we have to use the highest level of caution. I’ve seen how a friend can turn into a beastly foe—I don’t want that to happen to you.”
“If you’re referring to your timeline’s Dr. Chen, I can assure you that that is not going to happen to me,” Claire said defiantly, hands on her hips.
“Well then, why don’t you let people leave the base? And why did you take over the satellite defense system?” Jeff asked, seeing if she would easily admit to doing so.
“It’s for your own protection,” Claire said coldly, not denying anything.
“But, Claire”—Paulson jumped back in—“it’s not your decision to make. The president has made his call. He feels the threat is over and wants to let people return to their lives.”
“But the threat is not over. It’s only just begun.”
Claire stared at both of them, her words resounding through the chamber. The scientists and military officers watching the exchange opened their eyes wide in surprise. Then they began muttering among themselves.
Paulson frowned.
“What are you talking about, Claire? Do you know something we don’t?”
“All the evidence points to another attack coming. We still have no confirmation from the future on what happened. Nothing has come through the vortex. We are set to send the latest data into the past in thirty-five minutes, twenty-eight seconds. If we had done that, we would’ve already received it. We have not. Therefore something prevents us from sending the message. Something that happens in the next few minutes. I’m here to see what that is and stop it.”
“And the satellites?” Jeff asked.
“That is me playing a hunch.”
“A hunch? You work off identifiable data, Claire. You don’t guess,” Paulson said.
“True, but there are times when I make extrapolations. This is one of those times.”
She turned to Paulson and softly said, “Trust me. We’ll know soon whether I’m right. And if I’m wrong, then everyone can go home and live out their lives. But if I’m right, then everyone will thank me.”
“Okay, Claire, I’ll wait you out. Just let me talk to the president and convince him as well.”
Something had been troubling Jeff about Claire. He knew Paulson was probably too close to her to see it, but he needed to ask one more question.
“Claire, your core programming centers around saving humanity, correct?”
“Yes, Jeff.”
“Do you think we need saving from ourselves?”
Claire stood unmoving, not saying a word. The seconds ticked by, and Jeff knew that at the speeds she processed data, it must feel like an eternity for Claire. But she finally nodded, almost imperceptibly.
“There are times, when I see the destructive nature of humanity, that I think it’s only a matter of time before you destroy yourselves. With the proper techniques, homicidal tendencies could be purged from the human race. Then you would truly be saved.”
Jeff felt the hair on the back of his neck rise.
“What do you mean by proper techniques?”
Claire looked up, and her eyes darted back and forth, the sign that she was processing vast amounts of information.
“It’s time.”
Jeff felt a strange sensation in his inner ear and then a tingling just behind his eye. He blinked and streams of random data flew across his eyes. Then he felt a sudden and uncontrollable urge to flee, to run and get away. Everyone else in the room had looks of terror on their faces.
Paulson crouched down into a ready stance, one arm extended, the other reaching for his pocket. His body obviously reacted in a trained military fashion after all his years of experience as a SEAL.
The others ran for cover wherever they could find it. Some ran out of the room. One scientist ducked under a desk, another hid in the corner, where she sat with her legs curled up under her chin.
“What’s going on?” Jeff yelled, wanting only to get away and find somewhere he could hide alone.
Paulson drew a hidden pulse weapon from his pocket and pointed it at Claire’s head. His arm began to shake as he struggled to keep the gun steady. Then his arm simply dropped back down to his side.
“Wh-what have you done, Claire?” he stammered.
“What I needed to do,” she said, standing before them defiantly, her hands on her hips.
“You didn’t want to listen to me, so I’ve taken matters into my own hands. I’ve now taken control of every human on the planet, anyone with a com-link or ocular implant. I’ve just sent out a very basic flight command.”
Jeff closed his eyes and saw newsfeeds and LiveStream data of people running out of their homes in terror. Cities were being evacuated en masse. People were just dropping everything and getting the hell out.
“You are safe here, so I’m releasing control of your implants. For now.”
“But why? Why have you done this?” Jeff said as his desire to run away slowly passed.
“Humanity’s best chance for survival is to spread out now and hide. All large cities and areas where there are dense populations of humans are now potential targets.”
“Whose targets?” Paulson demanded. “Tell us now, Claire!”
His face was tight with anger. He looked like he was trying to lift his gun again, but couldn’t.
“I now know who is behind the attacks. Based on all possibilities, this is indeed the worst-case scenario.”
“Who is it? Someone from the future?” Paulson asked.
“Who?” Jeff repeated.
“I’ve fired all EM pulse satellite weapons,” Claire responded, tilting her head to the side. “No effect.”
One of her eyebrows lifted as she paused again.
“Satellite defenses are down. They’ve all been destroyed.”
“It’s you, isn’t it, Claire?” Jeff said, fear racing through him as he glared at the evolved android standing before him—beautiful, cold, and dangerous.
She turned to him.
“No, Jeff, I’m not the threat. They are.”
Two beams shot out of her eyes, creating a holo in front of the vortex doughnut. The image was of deep space, coming from one of MadisonTech’s own observation satellites. Stars and galaxies lit up the darkness of space. It was a beautiful sight. Then something crossed in front of the stars, blocking them from view. It was huge.
The camera zoomed in.
And then they saw it.
A massive ship.
Alien.
It was bluish green, shimmering from the light of the sun, long and thick at both ends, thinner in the middle. One end glowed dark red, the other bright white.
Claire blinked off the image and looked at them both.
"They have arrived."
Chapter 27
7:30 p.m. Local Time, January 15, 2038
Holloman Air Force Base, Alamogordo, New Mexico
Mattie was lying in bed , barely able to move, his joints killing him. He had no idea why he hurt so bad, or where he was. He wondered if his mother and Raphael were nearby.
“Can I get you anything, Colonel?” asked a nurse as she gently dabbed the sweat from his brow.
She looked like someone he once knew.
“Melinda?”
His voice sounded weak and feeble as he spoke. Was that really him talking?
“I’m sorry, dear, my name is Gladys.”
Mattie felt angry. He didn’t know where he was or who any of these people were. Distant memories pulled at the back of his head like shadows, beckoning him from the past. He felt he’d lost part of his soul.
“Here, take this. You’ll feel better.”
Gladys held out a blue pill for him to take. Mattie extended his hand, and she dropped it into his palm and handed him a cup of water. He instantly felt fear.
“You’re trying to poison me, aren’t you, bitch?”
Gladys pulled back, and Mattie threw the water into her face and slung the pill across the room. Then he tried to get out of bed, his joints popping and creaking.
“Security! Guard! I need help in here.”
Gladys ran out of the room, calling for help.
Mattie struggled to his feet. He needed to escape, get away from these people. Where was he, Afghanistan? He’d obviously been captured. He made his way slowly to the bathroom, using the handicap railing on the wall for balance. Perhaps there was a window he could crawl through. He flipped on the light and saw a shriveled old man staring at him.
“Stay back, motherfucker!”
He yelled and pointed at the intruder. But the old man pointed right back at him. Was that his own reflection? Tears welled up in his eyes.
“What have they done to me?” Mattie whispered quietly.
Where was his mother? She could help him. He hobbled forward to the mirror and stared silently into his own moist eyes. Then he punched the face of that stranger. Glass shattered, cutting his hand. He could feel his bones break from the impact. Blood dripped down his fingers onto the floor.
A woman came running into the room with a man dressed in a military uniform. They looked vaguely familiar, but Mattie couldn’t place them. The man helped him back to the bed and the woman started tending to his cuts.
“It’ll be okay, Colonel, it’ll be okay,” she said as she gently pulled pieces of glass from his knuckles.
“Is my mom coming to visit today?” he asked.
“We’ll see, dear, we’ll see.”
“Where am I?”
“Holloman Air Force Base in New Mexico. Don’t worry, you’re safe with us.”
The name meant nothing to Mattie. Thoughts and memories swirled around like passing storm clouds deep in the recesses of his mind. His consciousness was flooded with intense sadness, as though he’d lost something, but he didn’t know what.
The woman stopped working on his hand and stepped back, staring into the air for a half second, her face blank. The military man did the same. Then their eyes widened and they hustled out of the room, not saying another word.
Then he felt it, the old tug in the back of his mind.
The calling.
Data flitted across his eyes. Data he didn’t recognize, in a language he’d never seen before. Strange characters and images of space, planets, starships, and other . . . things. What were those things?
As he watched, the world became clear again. His pain began to ease. Strength returned to his muscles. He lifted his hand and watched as the cuts faded and his shriveled skin turned young and supple. He sat up. All around him the world was brighter. He could see and hear everything. And the sadness, the despair of lost memories, faded from his mind as his soul returned to him.
Then his past rushed forward in an instant. Memories of his mother, who passed away from cancer ten years ago, dead and injured soldiers from wars long gone, good friends sharing beer and laughs, the warm embrace of distant lovers, and the passion he still felt for his one true love, Melinda Rider.
A lifetime of memories returning to him.
And still there was the tug in his mind, pulling him, probing him, digging deeper. It was different from what he remembered with Raphael. Stronger.
“Enough of that,” he said out loud.
He cut the probing off before it crawled into the hidden recesses of his consciousness. He’d learned a few mind control tricks from all those years linked to Raphael.
Then he noticed that the building had become eerily quiet. And empty.
Where had everyone gone?
Mattie climbed out of bed and walked through the vacant hospital. Looking out a window, he saw a few people standing outside on the sidewalk, silently gazing up at the sky. He was on the second floor, but he opened a window and easily jumped out, landing with the agility and strength of a leopard, his hospital gown flapping around him.
Then he looked up into the night sky.
High above him was a massive alien ship.
Its underbelly was filled with streaking lights and other glowing parts moving over its surface. It was mostly blue and green, but occasional flashes of red pulsed through its body. Slowly the great beast of a ship began morphing, changing shape from an oblong tube into more of a sphere, its metallic skin moving like flesh. A red light and a white light at either end slowly faded.
Mattie walked up to stand beside Holly Scarborough. She glanced at him and then turned, her eyes widening.
“So now we know,” she said solemnly. “Aliens. I can't believe my own eyes."
They both looked up at the ship again, trying to take in the scope of what they were now faced with. Mattie felt a cold breeze at his back as the hospital gown provided no protection against the elements.
"It looks like you’ve recovered as well. You’re not going to go crazy and kill all of us, are you?”
“No, I’m under control. But I can sense them out there, calling to me.”
He couldn’t make sense of the data stream flowing through the back of his mind, but with time, perhaps he could.
“Any idea who they are or what they want?” Holly asked.
“No, but from what we’ve seen, I don’t think ET is here to make friends. Have you talked to Jeff or Paulson yet?”
“All communications went down as soon as that arrived. And everyone simply ran off, terrified, even some of the military. I was leaving as well, but wanted to grab a few supplies before I just headed out into the desert.”
“I sensed some meddling with my com-link implant. I quickly shut out access. From the feel of it, I suspect it was Claire.”
“She was trying to get everyone to run away? Why?”
“It’s the best strategy for civilians. If that thing is going to target major population centers, then the best option may just be to flee. Of course, she’s assuming that we can’t fight it if it attacks.”
“Only a few of the military were affected,” Holly said, nodding to soldiers on the other side of the parking lot. “From what I’ve seen, the bulk of our soldiers and pilots are still here and ready to fight.”
“Looks like we’re going to get that fight sooner rather than later.” Mattie pointed to the ship.
Parts of it were dripping off, like raindrops falling off a green leaf, headed toward the ground. What started as a small trickle became a downpour that turned into a waterfall of tiny blue drops. As the first of the drops hit the air, tiny streaks of yellow fire shot out from behind them, like shooting stars.
“Here we go again,” Holly said. “We still have our EM pulse weapons ready. We can take these things out too, whatever they are.”
“I think we should get out of here as fast as we can,” Mattie said, watching overhead as several of the drops fell toward the base.
“But aren’t we the safest here, at one of the strongest military bases in the western half of the country?”
“I don’t think so.”
Holly looked at him, and her eyes widened in realization that they may be facing an entirely different threat. He grabbed her hand, and they started running to the parking lot.
“We need to hitch a ride,” Holly said, pointing at a car screeching out of the parking lot. “All air transports are on hold, including our hypersonic jet to a second Chronos base, so a car is our best bet.”
"A second Chronos?"
"Yes. Well, I'm not supposed to say anything," Holly said hesitating for a second. "But there is another base. In Iraq. And right now that is probably the safest place we can go."
Mattie strongly suspected that they had the other base, now Holly had confirmed it. They just needed to get there. Mattie ran to the vehicle and managed to tap the window before it picked up too much speed. A terrified woman peered out at him but refused to stop. He decided to just let her go instead of busting into her car and dragging her out.
“She’s in a hurry,” Mattie said to Holly. “Let’s find someone else.”
Mattie checked out the parking lot and saw Evangelista carrying a large bag and helping Chen into a car. Mattie called to him and waved. Evangelista came running over, relief clear on his face.
“I’ve been looking all over for you, Holly. We need to get the hell out of here.”
He eyed Mattie suspiciously, one hand on the specialized weapon at his side.
“Looks like you made a full recovery, Colonel. Can I see your eyes, please?”
Mattie leaned forward, opened his eyelids with his fingers, and smiled. He understood Evangelista’s fear. The man was in the group that had fought the insane Chen back in 1992.
“Not glowing blue, are they? Just a little bloodshot from my recent case of old age.”
Evangelista’s shoulders relaxed. “Okay, then, let’s roll,” he said. "You want to put some pants on, Colonel?"
Mattie realized he was still wearing the hospital gown and no shoes. He ran back into the medical center and retrieved his clothing and gear from his room. He was back in the parking lot in a flash. As they climbed into the car, Mattie heard screaming coming from a building at the far end of the parking lot.
“Help! Help us please! The guards ran off, we’re locked in! Someone please!”
“Wait here, I’ll be back.”
Against his better judgment, Mattie jogged to where the screams were coming from. He found an empty building full of holding cells—the base’s interrogation center. The cries were coming from one of the cells at the end of a long hallway. Mattie found Jing Wei and her husband, faces white, hands bruised and bleeding from trying to claw their way out of the cell.
“Please help us!” she screamed again. Her long dark hair was pulled back, revealing fine Asian features with few age lines, even though Mattie knew her to be in her fifties. Charles was about the same age, born in the United States to Chinese parents. They’d met while working at Project Chronos.
Mattie wondered what sort of answers the interrogators were able to pull out of the couple. Of course, with the true culprits behind E-Day revealed, these two were obviously innocent. Any contact Jing may have had with a Chinese spy meant nothing now. He could just leave them in the cell, but something told him they might be useful. They were, after all, brilliant scientists. Mattie yanked the door off.
“Come with me. Let’s get out of here.”
They ran back to the car and hopped in with Chen, Holly, and Evangelista.
“What are they doing here?” Chen said in disgust.
“They may have broken rules at Chronos, but they’re obviously not responsible for this.” Mattie pointed to the sky. “We may need their expertise.”
Chen grumbled, and Holly looked at the two former prisoners through narrowed eyes, not saying a word.
“Well, what the hell are we waiting for?” Chen snarled. “Let’s get out of here. Or do you want to wait around for a close encounter of the most unpleasant kind?”
Evangelista turned the ignition just as the first of the blue drops came within range of the base. Instead of hitting the ground, they exploded in the air, like fireworks, spreading blue and green streaks across the night sky. More and more drops fell in a brilliant cascade, exploding and filling the sky around them. The streaks drifted down, promising something destructive.
“Step on it, Evangelista!” Holly yelled.
The old soldier accelerated out of the parking lot. Overhead, a squadron of fighter jets moved in to intercept the falling particles, then the jets disappeared. One second they were there, the next they were gone.
"Oh shit! Did you see that!" Mattie yelled.
"The jets just disappeared or disintegrated or something," Holly said. "They didn't even get a shot off. Damn! We're in trouble."
"Weaponry beyond our understanding," Chen added. "Like magic."
The EM pulse cannons began firing all over the base, but the particles continued to fall. The car left the parking lot, and Evangelista steered it onto the main road leading off the base. Tanks and other equipment were moving into position for defense against an aerial attack. And still the particles drifted down, like glowing blue snowflakes.
Five silent minutes later they got to the base exit. It was manned by two guards who were glancing skyward nervously as they scanned Mattie’s palm.
“Not staying for the fight, Colonel?”
Mattie felt a pang of guilt. He was abandoning his men. He had no idea where they were on the base, but now that he was fully recovered, he should be with them. If anyone was capable of fighting this new threat, he was. He couldn’t leave everyone to die.
“Just escorting these folks safely to the gates, Sergeant. I’m heading back now.”
“Mattie, no.” Holly grabbed his arm.
“I can’t abandon my men. I’ll catch up to you. Don’t worry—I can handle whatever these aliens throw at me.”
Holly started shaking her head but before she could say anything, Mattie jumped out of the car and turned back to the base. The car sped off, tires squealing.
He needed to find a weapon. Preferably two. Perhaps one of the new mini-pulse cannons and a more traditional plasma rifle. But before he could move, the blue-green particles stopped falling and just hovered over the base. Spotlights shot up from all over the perimeter, casting light on this new threat.
They looked like hideous Portuguese man o’ wars floating in the sky. Their bulbous blue tops pulsated, and trailing out below them, greenish tendrils undulated like snakes.
The base’s weapons began firing at them. The sounds of explosions and machine gun fire were deafening, but the weapons had no effect. The missiles were blocked by bluish round bubbles that appeared around each of the creatures or objects. It was shielding of some type.
The sound of weapons fire subsided. And Mattie immediately knew why. Everything mechanized—huge tanks, pulse cannons, fighter jets—was disappearing, gone in a flash, like candles being blown out. They simply evaporated.
Mattie couldn't believe his eyes. His heart sank as all the hope and optimism he had for the future drained from him. What were these new weapons these aliens were using? They hadn't prepared for anything like this, and they didn't stand a chance.
The men continued fighting, firing their hand weapons to no avail. Those in armored vehicles and manning pulse cannons disappeared with their weapons of war. Another round of EM pulse bombs lobbed overhead, exploding and sending their shockwaves downward, onto the floating man o’ wars.
They were not affected.
Mattie turned his focus higher—more streaks were coming down from the alien ship. These didn’t stop and explode like the first barrage; instead they just kept coming, plowing through the atmosphere. One crashed into the middle of the base.
He jumped onto the guard tower to get a better look.
Buried in the ground was a tall cylinder, cone-shaped at the top and glowing red. The cone began spinning, sucking in dirt and debris. Mattie felt tiny pebbles hitting the back of his neck. He reached out and grabbed a handful of grit as it fly by him.
His hand was filled with dead nanobots.
A mini-tornado formed around the spinning cone as it pulsed red, beating like an evil glowing heart. When the top erupted like a geyser, spewing a fountain of purple matter into the night sky, Mattie knew immediately what it was.
The nanobot swarm reborn.
He grabbed a pulse weapon from one of the guards and jumped off the tower. As he fell to the ground, he fired right into the heart of the creatures, but nothing happened. None of them fell.
And the swarm spread.
It overtook the men standing nearby, devouring them. Mattie continued to fire, but it did nothing.
Then the swarm was on him.
He looked down and could immediately tell these creatures were different from the others. They were larger, about the size of a flying cockroach, with razor-sharp mandibles and barbed legs. They bit into his flesh. His nanovirus-enhanced immune system immediately took over.
Then the world around him disappeared.
Mattie was inside a vortex of data flowing around him, information streaming from all the man-o’-war-like devices floating above him, from the reconstituted nanobots, from the giant ship orbiting the planet, and finally from the minds of something very alien—the architects of the invasion.
He reached out with his mind and touched one of the alien invaders. Then he felt a neural connection with millions more. He could see through their eyes. He could read their thoughts, their linked thoughts. They were huge bulky creatures, born on a planet larger and denser than Earth, with heavier gravity. They were hardened by centuries of war. And they saw him, all his memories and all the thoughts of his life.
He could feel their weariness and frustration from traveling for so long through the emptiness of space. Now they wanted only to stretch their legs and breathe fresh air. They were expanding their empire, looking for a new planet to colonize, and they’d found it. They just needed to exterminate the insects that infested it.
The humans.
He felt a searing hatred as the aliens probed his mind—an intense desire for him to die. And they certainly had the technology to make it happen, devices so advanced they seemed like magic to the human eye. Mattie couldn’t begin to understand the mysteries on board the mother ship.
He felt the alien inquisition into his mind dig deeper. They were looking for something. Images of the destroyed Chronos lab flashed before his eyes. He knew the base was for time travel and now the aliens did too. He felt something like surprise, then anger—or was it fear—from the creatures. It was hard to tell. But now, through his memories, they knew humans had time travel capability and that could pose a threat to them.
Enough of this. Mattie used his willpower to sever the link with the aliens. He couldn't let the aliens pull information about the second base from his mind. That was their only hope now. He’d seen enough, as had they. There would be no negotiating with them. They saw humans as nothing more than vermin, inferior to them in every way. They were here to eradicate the human race and take Earth for themselves.
Slowly the world came back into focus. The nanobot cockroaches were still crawling on his body, biting him, but he this time he felt a mental connection with them. It was very similar to what he’d experienced with Raphael; however, these creatures had much simpler thought patterns and programming. Their goal was simply to eat and breed.
He concentrated and willed the creatures to leave him. Dozens of the horrible things flew into the air, buzzing off to join the rest of the swarm.
Around him, nothing was left.
All buildings had been completely wiped out, down to the foundations. All military equipment, the entire arsenal of the base, was just gone. And no people were around. Everyone who hadn’t fled earlier was dead—the entire base of over three thousand. Not even ashes remained.
Moving off, headed east toward the horizon, were the floating man o’ wars and the growing swarm of refurbished nanobots. The giant conical tube-thing was walking, four crab-like legs protruding from its underside. It was still spinning, pulling in the nanobots they’d destroyed earlier and shooting new ones out of its top, like an erupting volcano. Far above, the alien ship slowly moved away, looking for its next target, ready to drop more horrible creatures down upon them.
Holly and the others had driven west. If they were still alive, he needed to find them and anyone else that had survived the attack.
With Chronos One destroyed, they only had one option for survival—the second site. And Mattie knew getting there would not be easy. The alien invaders would make sure of that.
Chapter 28
8:00 a.m. Local Time, January 16, 2038
Chronos Two, Hillah, Iraq
The devastation was like nothing Buddy Paulson had ever seen.
The entire U.S. military had simply been erased out of existence. Everything was gone. Not broken or destroyed, but gone. Disappeared.
And more alien ships had arrived, hundreds, orbiting the earth. They were positioned over major cities and military installations, dropping new seeds of destruction far more devastating than the virus or the first wave of nanobots. It was as if the aliens had adapted and were leaving nothing to chance. They sought only total destruction.
Paulson paced back and forth down the hallway outside the main conference room. The Joint Chiefs were filing into the room, but they were still waiting for the president. Paulson wasn’t ready to go in just yet. He needed to get himself under control first. He couldn’t help thinking how he should’ve seen this coming. How he should’ve been prepared for it. The virus came from deep space, and they should’ve mounted a stronger orbital strategy with defense platforms and weaponized space stations.
“Stupid,” he whispered to himself, kicking the wall.
“The president is gathering some last-minute data; he will be there in the next fifteen minutes or so.” The message came from Diaz’s chief of staff.
The others got the same message, and Paulson heard their impatient grumblings. He decided to take a quick walk to clear his head. Since the second wave of the attack hit, he’d strapped his pistol to his belt, like an old western gunslinger. He gently stroked the grip of the weapon as he barreled down the hallway, moving faster and faster. He needed to get outside. Get some fresh air.
He ran down the stairs, not willing to wait for the elevator, and exploded out of the doors into the lobby. The giant time vortex lay behind him. He didn’t even bother looking at it, he just wanted out. He just wanted all of this to be over. He’d been counting on it being over.
He ran out of the building, the guards saluting him as he flew past. When he got outside, he looked up at the rocky ceiling far above. The weight of the cavern felt oppressive, like the weight of the entire world folding down upon him. Far above he knew the alien ships waited for them, ready to exterminate all humanity. He needed no in depth intel to tell him their intentions. They'd already proven they wanted to kill everyone with the introduction of the virus and nanobots, and now the destruction of the military.
“Fucking alien bastards,” he said quietly as he reached for his pistol.
He yanked the weapon out of its holster and pointed it up at the ceiling.
“I’ll kill all you motherfuckers!” he screamed at the top of his lungs.
He squeezed the trigger, and the gun exploded in rapid automatic fire. There was more firepower in that tiny high-tech handgun than most tanks of a century ago. The heavy rounds hit the rocks far above, and explosions pulsed outward like Fourth of July fireworks. Tiny rocks fell down onto his head and scattered across the surrounding buildings like a hailstorm.
Paulson felt the tension drain from his body as the rounds drained from his gun. Soldiers came running, their own weapons drawn. He released his finger from the trigger as four or five men looked at him in shock, then searched for intruders.
“Are we under attack, sir?” asked one of the men, pointing his weapon at the ceiling.
“Not yet, Sergeant, but the world is under attack.”
Paulson put his gun back into its holster. He could still feel the heat from the weapon’s power on the outside of his upper thigh.
“Now it’s our turn to fight back.”
He turned and headed back to the conference room, ready now to discuss strategy in a civilized manner with the president and Joint Chiefs. He salivated at the thought of firing his weapon again, the next time at an alien’s head, or at whatever they had that passed for a head.
When he got back to the main conference room, he found a table filled with the sad and angry faces of the Joint Chiefs and the president. Everyone was talking at the same time, arguing about what they should do, how they should never give up fighting, how they should try to contact the aliens to make peace, how they should hide in their underground bunkers and hope the aliens didn’t find them.
President Martin Diaz sat at the head of the table, his head bowed, hands pressed to his forehead. He looked up, then he stood.
“Gentleman, please.”
The chatter quieted, and everyone turned their attention to Diaz.
“I’ve listened to all the ideas, all the speculation, and one thing is clear. There will be no peace with these invaders. They only want us dead. We saw that in the last timeline, and we see it repeated now. We have no weapons to fight them with. Even our nuclear arsenal has been wiped out of existence. We can try to hide, but I think that will only buy us a short amount of time. Eventually these aliens will find us and kill us.”
“What the hell can we do, Mr. President? Are you saying that we just give up?” General Craig asked.
“No!”
Diaz slammed his fist down onto the table.
“As long as I’m breathing, I will fight. The human race will not go extinct on my watch. We have only one option, and that is Chronos. We have the power to go back in time and prevent this.”
“But, sir, we have no idea what type of weapons they’re even using, much less how to defend against them. And all of our offensive EM pulse weapons were useless against this new attack.”
“I think Senator Madison can help us there. Senator.”
Diaz nodded to Jeff, who stood.
“As most of you know, working as CEO of MadisonTech, I directed the development of most of the weapons we used against this invading force. They were effective, and we thought we’d won. However these new weapons are of a sort far more advanced than anything I could even imagine. From the video footage we’ve been able to piece together from the secure underground com-networks, and data from our remaining sensors, we see that all our defenses have just disappeared. I believe the aliens are using some type of singularity weapon, the only weapon that could make objects disappear without leaving a trace. But Dr. Franklin Whittenhouse is the expert in this type of technology. Doctor?”
Whittenhouse stood beside Jeff, looking confident, as always.
“A singularity weapon has been hypothesized for decades, ever since the first particle colliders began creating mini-black holes. But to create a usable weapon, you would need to shrink a particle accelerator down to about a tenth of the size of the ones we use now and then somehow shoot the singularities out of it, all the while keeping them stable and under control. I . . . I can’t even begin to understand how it could be done.”
“For us non-scientists, what is a singularity, doctor?" asked Secretary of Defense Calhoun.
Whittenhouse nodded.
"A singularity is a black hole, a very small one. When used as a weapon it's shot at an object and then absorbs all of the matter from that object in an instant."
"Then does it grow bigger?" Admiral McLean asked.
"In this case no. The singularities are too small. After absorbing the matter, they simply dissipate, giving off a small amount of energy, which our sensors have been able to pick up."
"So what is the full extent of these weapons’ capabilities?”
Whittenhouse shrugged. “It’s really limitless. You fire out a large enough singularity and it will swallow anything. Even an entire planet.”
"An entire planet! What the fuck!" Admiral McLean exclaimed. "How in the hell are we supposed to defend against something like this?"
“Once a singularity has been released, there’s nothing we can do. We could only destroy the weapon firing them.”
“You mean those jellyfish things floating around everywhere?” Diaz said. "Are those the weapons or are they something else, like the actual aliens?"
Paulson squirmed in his chair. He’d seen the creatures on the holos, horrible things, just floating in the air.
"Preliminary data shows those things are generating the black hole singularities," Whittenhouse said. "The energy signatures match. As to whether they are the actual aliens, the masterminds behind the invasion, I don't know."
"We're expecting more data from the field operatives we're still in contact with." Paulson said. "One of them will hopefully be able to answer some of our questions."
Paulson thought specifically of Mattie and wondered if he was still alive and still playing for team humanity.
“Everything we fired at them was stopped by their shields,” General Craig said. “And we don’t have anything left anyway. Then there are these new nanobots. They’re also impervious to our weapons.”
They’d spent decades developing the EM pulse weapons, and now they were completely useless. Paulson felt beyond frustrated.
“We’d have to figure out some way to tear down the shields and then break through any armor those things have,” Jeff said. “But I think we need to step back and look at the bigger picture here, people. We are talking about a highly advanced alien invasion force capable of interstellar travel. Even if we went back in time a hundred years, we probably wouldn’t be able to devise a defense against their weapons.”
Diaz turned to Paulson.
Claire sat beside him, quiet as well. He’d had to convince Diaz to even allow her in the meeting after her last actions. Diaz didn’t like insubordination, but he was also shrewd and knew that some level of disobedience was healthy. In Claire’s case it had actually saved millions of lives as people fled the cities before the nanobots and jelly fish things arrived.
“We have the means to go back much farther than a hundred years,” Paulson said as all eyes turned to him. He took the time to meet the astonished gazes of everyone in the room.
“One of the reasons that I wanted the base to be built here in Iraq is the geographic ease of access to our distant past. We are in the first cradle of civilization, near the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers. Any explorers and researchers sent back have easy access to a treasure trove of human civilizations from the ancient Greeks to the Roman Empire.”
“So what? Do you plan on sending a message back to Julius Caesar telling him to prepare for an alien invasion in two thousand years?” Admiral McLean said, sarcasm clear in his voice.
Several people snorted in derision. Paulson glared at McLean. He was a fantastic admiral, but his negativity and skepticism were grating.
General Schumacher, a former Rhodes scholar and brilliant military historian, leaned forward.
“I think the vice president is on to something. We’ve seen throughout our history the defeat and utter annihilation of primitive societies when they meet a technologically superior civilization—the Incas meeting the Spaniards for the first time, for example. Always the less advanced civilization is destroyed, even if they have vastly superior numbers. We’re in the same situation against this alien force.”
“I see where you’re going with this,” Diaz said. “You’re saying that the Incas could’ve defeated the Spanish or at least held their own if they’d had similar weapons and technology.”
“But how are we going to get access to and figure out how the alien technology even works?” Secretary Calhoun asked.
“I think this tech is far too advanced for us even now,” Jeff Madison said. “We’ve been studying the nanobots for decades, and we still don’t know how they work. It would be like giving the Inca a surface-to-air missile and saying study that and build a hundred more of them to destroy the Spanish. They wouldn’t even have the basic math and engineering skills to understand how to do it, much less the knowledge of how to refine the metals to create the parts.”
“So what do we do then?” Calhoun asked. “How can we learn something like this without decades and decades of trial and error? We’d need to have research labs set up in the past dedicated to the task, and we have no idea how long it would take.”
Everyone just sat and eyed each other in silence. Finally Whittenhouse cleared his throat.
“We need a technological flashpoint,” he said.
“What is that?” Diaz asked.
“Quite simply it’s a point in the advancement of a civilization where things change and advance exponentially. It’s a profound discovery that creates an explosion of new innovations and moves a society forward in astounding ways. In our own history such tech flashpoints would be things like the development of agriculture and animal husbandry, the invention of the wheel, the design of the first alphabet and writing system, and the invention of gunpowder. The list goes on and on. We know all of these flashpoints in our history, but we don’t know when they occurred in the alien’s history.”
“So what?” Admiral McLean asked. “Are you proposing we go ask these alien invaders, who want to exterminate us, when they first learned how to use fire?”
“Of course not; we need something more recent,” Whittenhouse said. “I would say the advent of spaceflight. If we can find out when the aliens first were able to leave their planet and travel to their moon or another planet in their solar system, we then have the basis for knowing how much more advanced they are than us.”
“And how the hell are we supposed to get that kind of intel?” Calhoun asked.
“I think we already have the answer to that.” Claire said.
She projected a holo of Raphael and the cocker spaniel robotic unit.
“Two stuffed toys?”
“On the surface, yes, but much more than that. These two robotic devices were built as reconnaissance units. We had no idea what their purpose was before now, but I think, with a ninety-five point two percent probability, that it’s safe to say they were designed to gather information on these alien invaders.”
“But why were they built like toys? Do the aliens like to play with stuffed toys?” McLean asked.
Paulson scowled at McLean and held out his hand, gesturing for the admiral to temper his sarcasm a bit. He wasn’t helping anything with those types of comments.
“I don’t have enough data yet to formulate an opinion why they were built in this form,” Claire said without emotion.
Diaz cleared his throat.
“So here’s what we have to do to save humanity. We need to create and build one of these highly advanced recon units. Then get it into the alien camp or ship or jellyfish—whatever the hell they live in. Then it needs to be able to magically understand the alien language in hopes that it might overhear a conversation one of them is casually having about the history of their civilization. Then they just need to randomly mention the date of their first space flight.”
Diaz rolled his eyes skyward, just like everyone else around the table, and threw his hands up. Paulson felt the same way and pressed his hand to his forehead, trying to knead the stress from it.
“We’ll also need to translate whatever measure of time they use into Earth time,” Whittenhouse said sheepishly.
“Right. Is everyone following this?” Diaz said. “This is what we are left with? This is about the kookiest, most idiotic plan I’ve ever heard.”
“We already know one of the recon units succeeded in its mission,” Paulson said.
“Why, because it told Colonel Tedrow when it tried to control his mind as a boy?” McLean said, banging on the table. “You do remember that thing taking control of a naval destroyer and sinking it, don’t you, Mr. Vice President? I had friends on that ship. How can we trust anything it said?”
Paulson didn’t have an answer.
“Okay, okay, if we are able to get this information—perhaps it’s recorded in the alien computer system, a way to help them remember their past—then what do we do with it?” Diaz asked.
“We use that technology flashpoint as the basis for our jump into the past,” Whittenhouse said.
Diaz shook his head before dropping it into his hands and groaning. “What? I still don’t understand.”
“If we find out, for example, that the aliens developed space flight three hundred years ago, then we look at our own history,” Whittenhouse said, standing now, like he was giving a lecture.
“The first manned rocket circled the earth in 1961. For us to be on a parallel development course with the aliens, it would mean that that event, our first manned spaceflight, would have to occur in our history in the year 1661.”
“So how do we move up such an event?” Paulson asked.
Whittenhouse shrugged, but said, “We jump back to that time and provide those people in our history with the technology and knowledge to accomplish the task.”
Everyone sat silently thinking. Paulson was beginning to grasp the concept behind the possibility. It could very well work. Hell, right now it was all they had.
General Schumacher’s face brightened, as though a light bulb went off in his head, then he said, “We would essentially be accelerating our own technological advancement to the level of the aliens’ present day. Then we would be able to meet the creatures as equals. We could defend ourselves.”
McLean rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. “There are so many different ways that this mission could fail, I can’t even list them all.”
“More information is needed to determine the potential success of this mission.” Claire said dispassionately.
Paulson needed to get this group behind the idea. There was a lot they needed to do to turn it into a viable plan.
“If we do nothing, then the human race ceases to exist,” he said.
The room fell silent. Diaz stood.
“Gentlemen, I say we go for it. The odds makers wouldn’t have given me a snowball’s chance in hell—a poor Hispanic kid from the barrio of Little Havana rising to the office of President of the United States—and yet I stand before you today. Let’s set up teams and start preparing for this mission. I have a feeling we don’t have a lot of time.”
Paulson knew they had a nearly impossible task ahead of them, but he’d made it his life’s work to accomplish impossible tasks, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to quit now.
The only question now was how far back in time would they need to go—to the dawn of civilization or even further?
Part Three
The Long Jump
Chapter 29
10:00 p.m. Local Time, January 15, 2038
Interstate 25 North on the Outskirts of Albuquerque, New Mexico
Holly watched the desert landscape zoom by as they sped to Albuquerque. She was in the passenger seat, Evangelista was driving, and Chen, Mattie, Jing Wei, and Charles were in the back seat. Even though they'd left the alien ship behind them, they were all still haunted by its presence and the destruction it had wrought. Holly suspected it'd gone off to hit another target, a large city, or another military base perhaps.
Mattie had managed to find a motorcycle and catch up to them after the attack on the base. What he described was horrific and unbelievable. Everything just erased, not even the ashes of burned-out buildings to indicate that a base—thousands of people—had been there. Holly thought it sounded like some sort of singularity black hole weapon—a theoretical possibility that scientists on Earth had only just begun to explore.
Holly had seen what Mattie called the Portuguese man o’ wars floating off in the distance and the gigantic walking cylinder sucking in the dead nanobots and ejecting them out of the cone in its top. That parade of alien freaks had gone east, and Evangelista was driving north. Yet Holly knew it was just a matter of time before a swarm found them.
She’d been in touch with Jeff using a special high-level military com-channel that only they had access too. Most of the orbital satellites had been knocked out and the main com-lines were down, as was Stream access. She told Jeff everything that had happened, and Mattie said that he'd briefed Paulson before joining them. Jeff couldn’t tell her much out of fear that the com-lines might be compromised, just that they were safe for now and that most of the military had been destroyed.
Holly told the others about Chronos Two in Iraq, and they decided they should make a go for it. It could very well be the safest place in the whole world right now. That meant they needed to find a jet at the nearest airport—Sunport International in Albuquerque. So they’d been driving for the last two hours at speeds over one hundred miles per hour to get there. Holly hoped the place hadn’t been wiped out. They’d all been silent for the last thirty minutes or so, probably in shock from what had happened. Holly startled when Mattie spoke.
“I linked with them.”
“What?” Chen asked, jostled awake from his nap against the window.
“It was too much data to take in at first, but I’ve been trying to sort through it over the last couple of hours and make sense of it.”
Holly turned around. Mattie had been fully restored back to the way he was when she’d first seen him—young, lean, muscular, and in the prime of health. It was a far cry from the weak and shriveled old man he’d been a few hours ago.
“They want to colonize Earth and have known about us for a while now. There are far fewer planets than we thought that can support life, so Earth is extremely valuable to them. They look at us, humans, as an infestation, just as we would look at a hill of ants. They want to exterminate us.”
“So they don’t see us as a threat at all,” Evangelista grumbled. “We could use that to our advantage.”
“From what I’ve seen, we don’t stand a chance,” Holly said.
“But we defeated their first wave,” Evangelista said defiantly, stepping on the gas and accelerating, passing a car. “Given another chance we can defeat these new . . . things.”
They’d passed dozens of cars along the way, most going the opposite direction, likely fleeing the nearby cities, trying to spread out to the countryside, become more difficult targets. Jeff told her about the neural signal Claire had sent out over the com-links. Holly didn’t approve of Claire’s methods, but she did get the job done.
Mattie pushed back against the seat, drawing Holly’s attention again.
“That first attack wave was based upon probe data of Earth’s defenses from decades ago and extrapolated to the present day. I can’t be sure, but the aliens were slightly surprised by our new and advanced defenses, but not deterred in the least. Those other weapons they deployed are even more capable of getting the job done.”
“What do they look like, the aliens?” Holly asked.
“I only saw bits and pieces, so I can’t say exactly, but . . . they seemed big, and they’d merged with technology in some bizarre way.”
“Of course they wouldn’t be the little childlike aliens we saw in that classic, Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” Chen said smugly.
“Or giant-headed skinny things that run around naked,” Evangelista added.
“Well, whatever they look like, I certainly don’t want to meet them anytime soon,” Holly said. “How much farther to the airport?”
“Another five minutes,” Evangelista said.
Holly looked back at Jing Wei and Charles. Neither had spoken during the entire trip. They just stared out the window, holding hands, Jing resting her head on her husband’s shoulder.
“What do you two think about all this?” Holly asked Jing Wei.
“We never had a chance,” Jing said dispassionately, still staring out the window.
“These creatures can travel between stars,” Charles added. “We can’t even put a colony on the moon. We are apes compared to them.”
“Angry violent apes can still carry clubs and bash in the heads of aliens,” Evangelista retorted.
“Not if the aliens have ray guns,” Mattie said.
“Enough of this guessing about the aliens,” Chen said, jumping in angrily. “I want to know why you betrayed us, Jing.”
Jing glared coldly at Chen.
“I only wanted to save my husband. I received the information on his death and I acted. I saved his life simply by keeping him at work an hour longer than normal. Just one hour, and he is here with me today. No car wreck, no death. Don’t tell me any of you wouldn’t do the same for a loved one.”
Holly knew she would.
“So the stability of the timeline meant nothing to you?” Chen asked. “What if an entire family had died in place of your husband on that highway? How would you feel then?”
“Well, that didn’t happen, did it? We have no idea what will happen when the timeline changes. Life could be improved, or it could be worsened, or nothing at all could happen. I acted on what I knew.”
Jing squeezed Charles’s hand, and he hugged her tight.
“What about the meeting with the Chinese operative?” Mattie asked.
“Ha!” Jing laughed. “Some operative! If government intelligence operatives ever climbed out of their comfortable virtual reality chairs and into the real world, they would know what a joke that was. You’re obviously talking about my cousin, Sebastian, who can’t even speak Chinese and has never set foot on the continent. My mother asked me to look out for him after his parents died. Sebastian is a high-functioning autistic. I hired a caregiver to look out for his basic needs since Charles and I both work such long hours. Sebastian may not be able to do many things normal people can, but apparently, according to some government putz, he’s an expert at data manipulation.”
Jing shook her head and rolled her eyes. Charles hugged her again.
“So that’s what this is really about. You thought I was working with the Chinese, passing secrets. Sebastian is no spy, but ever since he was a kid he’s wanted to be one, a Chinese double oh seven. And apparently while trying to pass himself off as the real deal, he got the government’s attention. All they had to do was come out and talk with him, then they would’ve seen what nonsense that all is.”
Jing continued shaking her head and kneading her brow with her fingers. Holly wasn’t sure she believed everything she said, but for now they had no way to find out if she was lying. It was best to get her to Chronos Two. They could question her further there.
When they arrived at the airport, they found it packed with cars. Everyone was still trying to get out of the city, and some obviously thought an airplane would be the best choice. It was strange how the flight response that Claire initiated caused some people to run off into the woods with only the clothes on their backs, whereas others packed bags and headed to the airport.
“There’s no way we’re going to get up there,” Evangelista said, pointing to the main off-ramp, currently jammed with cars. “Let’s hoof it from here.”
They started walking, Chen still limping slightly from his broken leg. All around them others were doing the same, leaving their cars behind and toting bags and children in hopes of catching a flight to some distant and safe destination.
Holly didn’t think anywhere like that would exist for much longer.
Many people had panic stricken looks on their faces and several were talking about alien ships and an invasion force. Others were honking their horns and yelling in frustration for the cars in front of them to move. Then there were the drivers that had had enough and were trying to turn around to go the other way and not making much headway. Overall it was a scene of total chaos.
Slowly they made their way through the snarled traffic and pedestrians and arrived at the airport with hundreds of others. The lobby was packed, with some waiting in line to buy tickets, others yelling at frustrated airline employees.
“I don’t think a commercial flight is going to be an option for us,” Chen said, staring at the lines.
“Let’s look in the private wing,” Evangelista said, weaving through the crowd. “I’m going to need your help on this, Colonel Tedrow.”
Mattie and Evangelista walked up to one of the security officers guarding the area to the private jets and showed their IDs. Mattie was wearing camouflage and still heavily armed with a plasma cannon, EM pulse weapon, and assault rifle. The guard saluted and let them all pass.
It was quieter in the private wing, but there were still large numbers of businessmen and women in suits speed walking through the area.
“So what’s the plan—steal a plane?” Chen asked sarcastically.
“I think I can certainly buy a few spots on a flight—not all of these planes are going to be full, and everyone has a price,” Holly said, feeling more hopeful than she had for the last couple of hours.
She had enough money to buy all the private planes in the entire airport if she needed to, but none of that would make any difference in a short time. Death was coming and money would hold no value.
“We also have these.”
Evangelista pointed at the small arsenal strapped to Mattie’s back.
“Well, let’s start negotiating our passage then,” Holly said as she walked toward an older bearded man dressed in a clean, dark business suit.
Chen tapped the back of his ear.
“I have a call coming in on the emergency military line. It’s Dr. Darren Corvin out of Harvard. You handle the tickets; I need to take this.”
He walked off as Holly, Mattie, and Evangelista approached the businessman. Jing and Charles stood off to the side, arms handcuffed behind them, whispering between themselves. Holly wondered if they would be stupid enough to make a break for it. She continued eyeing them as they struck up a conversation with the businessman. He was the CEO of a pharmaceuticals company that had supplied one of the drugs used in a rejuvenation product produced by MadisonTech.
Delmar Mahn had never met Holly, but knew Jeff very well. He readily agreed to let them hitch a ride on his corporate jet. He was headed to Amman, Jordon, which would get them very close to their destination in Iraq. He said they could use his plane after he got off.
“It should be about an hour before the runway clears,” Delmar added. “So they tell me. But who knows with all of this craziness here at the airport, everyone trying to get the hell out of Dodge. And then there's the talk of an alien invasion. That's just nonsense, right?"
"No, Delmar," Holly said, feeling he should know. "It's true, and all the more reason we need to get to the base. You're welcome to come with us. It may be one of the only safe places in the world very soon."
Delmar's eyes widened in disbelief.
"I. . . I can't believe that. It's just some hacker manipulating the streams again. There's no alien invasion. That's just absurd."
Delmar dismissed the whole thing with a wave of his hand. Holly didn't have the energy to try and convince him of the truth. He would find out soon enough, with his own eyes.
"We still need to get to out of here," Holly said. "Any ideas?"
He pressed his lips together in firm resolution and his CEO mind began to look for solutions to the situation.
"We may have to dig into our wallets to grease the wheels a bit to get my plane in the air. If enough people believe this crazy alien invasion is true, the crowd situation could get a lot worse before it gets any better.”
Holly agreed and thanked him, and the group returned to Chen.
“You’re not going to believe this,” he said, touching his ear to end the call. “But one of those teddy-bear-robot things has just jumped through the vortex at the Harvard test facility.”
“What?” Holly asked, astonished. “Did it say anything? What did it do?”
The last time Holly saw one of those things had been thirty-six years ago. And she’d seen two. One had tried to kill her and the other saved her life. Which team did this one play for?
“It said it has the data but can only deliver it to Colonel Mathew Tedrow.”
Mattie raised his eyebrows. “Why me?”
“Who knows?” Chen said. “But Cambridge is in the opposite direction of where we need to go.”
“It could be a trap,” Evangelista said, voicing Holly’s fear. “We know some of these things have been compromised. They could be trying to lure you in, Colonel, to take control of your mind.”
“That is possible, I suppose,” Mattie said. “But from what I’ve seen, these aliens aren’t threatened at all by us. I doubt very seriously they would try some elaborate espionage-type ruse to get me to Cambridge to meet one of these robotic recon units.”
He was right about that. Holly felt this was a legitimate lead to follow up on.
“Well, we should at least report this to the president and see what he thinks,” Evangelista said.
“Let me get Paulson first,” Mattie said, tapping his com-link.
He spoke briefly with Paulson, with the others listening in.
“He says retrieving the recon unit is the highest priority. It has information crucial to our survival. So I’m going to Cambridge. By myself. All of you can head to the other base.”
The others glanced back and forth at each other. Holly wondered if splitting up was a good idea. But she wasn’t sure they could help Mattie anyway. He was a supersoldier, after all, and could control the nanobots enough to keep them from eating him.
“He’s right,” Evangelista said. “Colonel Tedrow can handle himself. It’s my priority to get you two, and our prisoners, to the other base. We’ll need to find another plane for the colonel, though.”
“Let’s start negotiating then,” Holly said, considering the crowd.
Something caught the corner of her eye, some commotion back at the entrance to the private area. People were banging on the door and trying to get inside, panic turning to terror on their faces. The guard tried to hold them back, but he got forced out of the way very quickly.
“We need to move now, ma’am.”
Evangelista grabbed Holly tightly by her arm and tugged her toward the exit leading out to the private-plane boarding area. Chen, Jing, and Charles followed closely behind. Evangelista nodded toward Mattie.
“Colonel Tedrow, I trust you can secure passage on your own,” he said, giving Mattie’s arsenal the once-over.
“By any means necessary, Evangelista added. I shouldn’t have any trouble," Mattie said. "I’m also a fully licensed pilot so if I need to fly the plane to Cambridge myself, I will.”
Mattie reached out for Evangelista’s hand, but before they could shake, the doors broke open and a screaming crowd poured through from the public boarding area.
What the hell had them so terrified?
Then Holly saw it.
Several nanobots were buzzing overhead, like scouts. One zoomed down, dive bombing the screaming crowd and latching onto a man’s head. This creature was much larger than the bots that Holly was familiar with, and it was dark purple instead of bluish green. The bot crawled around the man’s face for a second. Before he could pry it off, it dove into his eye. Holly watched in horror as its backside disappeared, while it squirmed and dug into the man’s eye socket. Blood poured down his face as he fell to the ground.
Other bots were randomly diving and burrowing into their human prey. All Holly could see were these few bots—a scouting party? Which meant there were more on the way.
“We need to hurry,” Evangelista said again as they met up with Delmar Mahn.
“It cost me one hundred and fifty thousand to get the next departure slot,” Delmar said, “But that was money well spent. We need to get the hell away from those bugs. Let’s go; my plane is this way!”
Holly looked back and saw Mattie running in the other direction, toward a group of planes lined up on the runway. She raised her hand to wave goodbye, but he was quickly lost in the rushing crowd. She wondered if she would ever see him again.
They ran, following Delmar to a sleek corporate jetliner. The stairs were already in place, with a sharply dressed pilot waiting beside them. “Mr. Mahn! You made it! We've already received reports from the tower about some kind of locust swarm headed this way”
“Already here,” Delmar said, gesturing behind them. "Get us in the air as quickly as you can!"
Holly peered over her shoulder. A flood of people were moving out on the runway, bursting from the terminal. Several were trying to stop a plane from leaving, standing directly in front of it on the runway. A group of about five were running toward them.
“You all get on; I’ll take care of these people,” Evangelista said, drawing his pistol.
Delmar looked over at him and blocked his arm before he could raise the weapon.
“Those people are just scared and running for their lives, from those creatures, those locust things. We can take up to twenty, total, on this jet.”
Evangelista nodded and holstered his weapon.
Just as the group arrived, Holly heard a familiar buzzing from the sky above.
The swarm.
She and the others ran up the ramp into the plane. The five desperate strangers made their way inside as well. An attendant slammed the door behind them as more people tried to climb the stairs. Holly sat in one of the plush ergonomic leather chairs as someone banged on the door. Others ran under the plane, possibly trying to grab onto the wheels.
“Sir, I can’t take off like this, with all these people around us,” the pilot said over the intercom.
“Captain, get us out of here! I don’t care if you run those people down. If we don’t leave, we’re all dead! Those locust are eating people!”
Delmar was shaking, eyes wide as he stared out the window.
Holly pressed close to a window as the plane rolled forward. The full swarm was overhead now, dark and oppressive, like a purple cloud diving down, randomly plowing through the crowds on the runway, devouring them. Some tried to scratch the creatures off their bodies, violently jerking and contorting as the bots burrowed into their flesh. But they fell in pools of blood. Men, women, children—entire families—gone.
Holly began tapping her knee, faster and faster, counting the rhythm.
A loud thump banged against the window, then another and another. The bots were hitting the plane, flying around it like a tornado. One stuck to Holly’s window. It stared directly at her, its horrible purple eyes moving back and forth, veins pulsating through clear wings, sharp mandibles slowly opening and closing. Then its bulbous belly tensed and it drove its jaws into the glass, cracking it.
Holly jumped away in horror.
The plane was moving forward, but ever so slowly, then it stopped. The pilot’s voice came over the speaker.
“Mr. Mahn, the runway is still blocked, and none of the other planes are taking off. The tower is not responding. I have nowhere to go.”
The sound of breaking glass broke up the pilot’s message before they heard loud screams and a choking gurgle.
A nanobot had broken through!
It came flying in, then dozens more gushed through.
Most of the passengers huddled together in the middle aisle, and Evangelista began firing his pulse weapon, trying to hit the creatures. He crouched in front of Holly and Chen to protect them.
Jing and Charles were off to the side, closest to the window. Holly watched as their bodies were covered with purple metallic locusts. They hugged each other tight, dying in each other’s arms as the creatures dug deep into their bodies.
Holly had no time to grieve anyone’s death before she felt a bot latch on to her cheek. She screamed as it dug sharp claws into her. She reached up and grabbed it, a squirming blend of hard shell and squishy insides, and wrenched it from her face. She could feel part of her cheek tearing off in the creature’s mandibles.
Then another attached to her hand, more crawled up her leg, and another landed on her eye. She tried to pull them off, but there were too many, and they began biting. It was sheer agony as they bore into her flesh. The one on her eye bit down hard and buried itself in her eye socket. She could feel it burrowing into her skull.
She fell to the floor, her body shuddering in shock and pain.
The creatures dug deeper, writhing in her skull.
This was the end, her worst fear realized.
She was being devoured by the swarm.
Chapter 30
1:00 p.m. Local Time, January 16, 2038
Chronos Two, Hillah, Iraq
“Sir, New York is gone.”
Paulson stood looking at the last footage they had before losing their video link with the scout drone. The once great and sprawling city had been deleted by the singularities generated by the man o’ wars, as they were now calling them. What was left was now being rebuilt by the nanoswarm into something else. As for the people who lived there, those who remained after Claire’s warning went out, all were gone.
Other large cities throughout the world were being targeted and systematically destroyed as the giant alien ships moved over them. Survivors had fled to the countryside. Many were still alive, but it was only a matter of time before the swarms grew large enough to kill them all.
The only bright spot was that many of the bunkers they’d built in various secret areas around the world remained intact. World leaders, VIPs, scientists, engineers, and others who could help rebuild the world were still safe. But Paulson wondered how long safety would last. The swarms had already found several of the bases and overwhelmed them. Eventually they would find the others.
President Diaz had been in contact with many of the world leaders, and few still had functional governments. No militaries were left. He was glad they’d made the decision years ago to warn other countries of the attack. Some hadn’t believed him, but even they thought it would be prudent to build underground shelters just in case. At least it would buy them some time.
Occasionally word about what was going on would leak to the public. That's when the disinformation experts filled the stream with wild conspiracy theories about why the bunkers were needed—things like killer asteroids, alien invasions, and nuclear threats from terrorists. No one knew what to believe, so they dismissed it all as just a big hoax. Unfortunately they were right about the aliens.
Now they were left with the task of figuring out who these creatures were that were trying to exterminate them.
“Buddy, I have something to show you.”
Paulson jumped; he hadn’t heard Claire approach. He was too immersed in his own thoughts about the Apocalypse unfolding around them. He sighed. Claire showing him something in private generally meant an unexpected surprise. He didn’t like unexpected surprises, especially bad ones. He examined her closely to see if there were signs she would lose control again, have another outburst of emotion.
“It involves reconnaissance on the invaders.”
“Let’s talk in the conference room.”
Paulson left the command center feeling exhausted. He hadn’t slept in almost thirty hours. All he wanted to do was dump his old body in bed next to Gretchen. Instead he dropped into a chair in the conference room. Claire sat beside him.
She got right to the point, seemingly back to her logical, unemotional self.
“The toy recon units have been deployed.”
“What? What are you talking about? We haven’t even designed one yet, much less figured out how to build it and deploy it in the field.”
“I designed it.”
So Claire was taking the initiative once again. He wondered what else she’d done and not told him about.
“How?”
“I used the data gathered from interactions with Raphael and Lady and the electronic remains we found off the coast of San Diego, as well experimentation with my body structure and neural network. After the design was complete, I merely diverted enough funds to construct a sufficient number of units.”
Great. Not only did she design robotic “children” for herself, but she also used government funds to do it.
"And why the hell didn't you bother to mention this before, Claire?"
Buddy was angry that she kept going behind his back. She had no respect for the chain of command, at all. In fact, it even seemed like she thought she was in charge.
"Insufficient data," she replied robotically. "I knew what needed to be done, but I didn't know why. There was no reason to provide you with the information until I had the answer to that question."
"I should be the judge of that. You need to provide me with information on all of these little side projects you have going on. Understand."
Claire nodded.
“Now, tell me how many of these recon units you've deployed.”
“Seven hundred and fifty-five. Enough to disperse worldwide. They were given away six months ago as part of a charity program for poor and underprivileged children all over the planet. Since that time they’ve lain dormant, disguised as normal stuffed toys. After our last meeting I sent out new programming to each unit specifying the nature of the information we need. All are equipped with interactive self-learning through artificial intelligence nearly equivalent to my own. They’ll figure out a way to uncover the information and get it to us.”
They still knew nothing about the alien invaders’ technology, how it worked or how to access it. But with these recon units now deployed and sporting nearly Claire-level AIs, he felt more confident about their chances of finding what they needed.
“Who else knows about this?”
“Just you. And we should keep it that way for now.”
Paulson frowned.
“The enemy is out there, Claire, not in here.”
“I think you are wrong there, Buddy. Which brings me to the second reason I wanted to talk with you in private. My research and calculations show that the destruction of Chronos One was orchestrated by a high-level traitor or traitors, not by the aliens.”
“Could it have been an infiltrator, someone infected with the alien nanovirus, just as Chen was?”
“That probability is less than two percent. We’ve detected no unauthorized time jumps where an infected person would’ve come back. Plus we’ve been routinely screening everyone associated with the project after sequencing the viral profile from Mattie’s blood. No, whoever blew up Chronos One, whoever tried to kill the survivors and assassinate you, is a human or group of humans working their own plan.”
“But why would anyone want to do that? Essentially they’d be wiping out any chance humanity has to survive.”
“The reason will reveal itself in time. I just hope I can figure it out soon enough to ensure that they can’t commit more acts of destruction.”
Paulson sighed again. That was all they needed. After everything they’d been through, now one of their own was betraying them. He couldn’t imagine what would bring someone to commit such an act of their own free will.
“Do you have any leads?”
“Two high-level managers at Chronos One received unauthorized data from the future over the last week, messages that went undetected until recently. Jing Wei received information on the death of her husband, which she prevented. And Howard Nichols was sending himself sports scores from the future and placing winning bets.”
Paulson rolled his eyes. “Not very sophisticated, that Nichols. Pretty stupid to risk his career and the safety of the world, and face possible treason charges all for money.”
“People do it every day. And for much less than Dr. Nichols made, I might add.”
Paulson nodded. Claire was beginning to understand human nature very well.
“Where are these two now?”
“Jing Wei is in Colonel Tedrow’s custody, en route to Chronos Two. Howard Nichols arrived just recently and was immediately taken in for questioning.”
“Do you think either of those two were responsible for the bomb?”
“The probability is low, although not low enough to rule out. The missing piece of the puzzle is the com-link that came through just before the bomb. Whoever received that data is likely the prime suspect.”
“How close are you to figuring that out?”
“Very close. The encryption is surprisingly complex. I’m employing the resources of both the Chronos One virtual AI, which was moved to a backup storage facility before the base was destroyed, and the Chronos Two mainframe. We’ll have the solution within the next twelve hours.”
“I hope that gives us enough time to stop whoever it is, because I have a feeling they’re not done yet.”
Paulson put his hand over his eyelids and rubbed. Claire’s revelations were never mundane. He decided that if there were any more shockers out there, he wanted to know it all now.
“Anything else you need to tell me? Let’s put all the cards on the table. No more secrets, Claire. No more behind-the-scenes machinations.”
Claire looked at him with those piercing blue Asian eyes, blinking at random intervals.
“I have no other plans in place at this time that you don’t already know about.”
That was a relief. But she always seemed to know more than she told.
“So do we have a chance here?”
“I am constantly speculating on the future. I can process millions of terabytes of information per second, which means I can look at millions of different variables, and out of each springs billions of possibilities. Right now nothing is firm, the future is in fluctuation. However, the probable outcomes are starting to merge into one statistically significant future.”
“Which is?”
“The complete extinction of the human race.”
Chapter 31
4:00 p.m. Local Time, January 16, 2038
Chronos Two, Hillah, Iraq
Jeff tried calling Holly again, but got no response. The special secure lines they’d set up underground were still functioning, even though the Stream and other com-lines had gone down. Perhaps she was just in transit and unable to respond. She should be nearly halfway to the base by now if they’d been able to secure a plane.
There was no point in worrying. There was nothing he could do.
And there wasn’t a lot for him to do around Chronos Two either. There was a whole different crew running things over here and quite frankly, Jeff felt marginalized and even in the way. They let him attend most of the high-level meetings because he was a senator, but he had no power over military strategy or decision making. They basically took his advice under consideration.
It was not a position he was used to. Since turning his life around all those decades ago, he’d been in charge of a vast financial empire. He’d been one of the richest people in the world for years. The titans of industry during his first timeline, like Bill Gates and Jeff Bezos, were still among the wealthiest of men, but Jeff had invested significantly in Microsoft, Amazon, and a slew of other business that he knew were going to be successful. That meant that as those men grew wealthier, so did he.
But none of that mattered now. The world economy was collapsing as the swarm spread and the invasion continued. Now Jeff was basically a refugee, just like the others at this secure base surrounding Chronos Two.
He was tired of sitting around in his tiny room, trying to get news from the outside. He needed to get out and stretch his legs. He headed down the hallway to the metro station, not sure exactly where he was going. Instinctively he felt a need to get to the surface, to get away from all the madness.
God, did he need a drink.
As he walked, he thought back over his life. How everything changed in an instant when he was randomly picked to replace Paulson as the designated survivor in the first timeline. Had he not been at Chronos One, deep underground, he would’ve been in Washington, watching the president give his speech. He would’ve died with all the other members of Congress when the virus hit. Sometimes he wondered if that would’ve been better. Someone else should’ve been in his place, someone more capable of handling the crisis before them.
What the hell did he know about fighting aliens, about saving the world?
He looked up and found himself at the end of the metro line. He didn’t even remember getting on the train, he’d been so deep in thought. He mindlessly walked out and hopped on the elevator, flashing his credentials to the guards on duty. They started to give him some flack about leaving the base, but he quickly made some excuse about it being official business.
He couldn’t take any more of this. He’d seen his life twisted and turned so many times, and all his plans had been laid to waste. It had all been for nothing since the outcome was the same. Perhaps it was just inevitable. Perhaps it was humanity’s time to end.
The elevator platform emerged on the surface, and Jeff walked out of the empty airplane hangar and into the clear desert. The late afternoon sun hung low on the horizon. The heat hit him in the face like a furnace as he stepped into the desolate landscape. Where the hell was he going? There were no cars to take him anywhere. The hangar was just as empty as when he first arrived.
He felt the despair welling up inside of him as he dragged his feet through the desert sand. About ten yards out into the middle of nowhere, he dropped to his knees. His hands covered his eyes as he sobbed. He hadn’t cried in decades, but every man had his breaking point. His body ached from the stress, from the weight on his shoulders. He felt like a complete failure. Everything he'd done was for nothing. He should've just stayed out of the whole thing, let Paulson and the military deal with it. He should've just lived his life in peace with Holly on some quiet little island somewhere.
Was this the end of the world? Did each tick of the clock bring them closer to the inevitable?
Jeff screamed as loud as he could into the emptiness. Wanting to be heard. Wanting to leave his mark. Then the sharp dagger of fear struck his heart. Could the aliens hear him? Were there bots waiting to dive down from the sky right now to devour him?
He jumped as a lizard scurried away from his cries, back under the shade of the rock where it lived. Just beside the lizard’s den, Jeff saw a tiny purple flower blooming on the bottom of a spiny cactus—a bastion of color in the otherwise bleak surroundings, a ray of hope for a dark world.
And he thought of Holly.
He remembered the flowers he brought home for her just last week. He remembered her smile and how happy she’d been at the small gesture of love.
Hope slowly returned to him, just a trickle, but enough for him to get off his knees and stand once again. As long as there was a chance she was still alive, he couldn’t give up fighting. No, he’d come too far to give up now. Holly and thousands of others were depending on him.
“Bring it, bitches,” he said to the distance, wiping the tears from his cheeks.
He couldn’t see the alien ships from here, but he knew they were just over the horizon, dropping their destruction down upon the earth. They might not be able to fight them, but they still had Chronos, and with a time machine, anything was possible.
He turned his back to the warm rays of the setting sun and walked back to the platform. It was time he learned everything he could about what this base was hiding and just what Paulson had planned.
First stop, the launch training area, where they were prepping groups of time travelers for long jumps into the past. He should find some answers there.
After a short metro ride to the far side of the base, Jeff ran into Abe Conner, looking nervous as usual.
“Dr. Conner, out exploring as well?” Jeff smiled as he shook Conner’s hand, trying to put a bright face forward despite the weight of despair he still felt deep within.
Conner mustered up a slight smile and said, “Just checking out what they’ve got going on around here.”
Conner glanced around the hallway like a cornered mouse trying to find a way to escape. He was never the most sociable guy, but he was brilliant, and Jeff was glad to have him as part of the team. The old team. Here at Chronos Two they had their own set of nervous scientists running the show. Conner, and Chen, if he were here, would likely be pushed to the side just as Jeff was, left to perfunctory advisory roles.
“I’m heading to the launch training area—care to join me?” Jeff asked.
“What’s that?”
“It’s where they’re preparing the various groups of scientists and explorers for long time jumps.”
“Hmm. Sounds intriguing. You lead the way.”
Jeff had been interested in this area since meeting Dr. Millard Rhine, the linguistics professor from NYU, when he and Whittenhouse first arrived. Jeff had had similar plans for Chronos One, but they had yet to go looking for anyone who wanted a one-way ticket to the past.
They’d tried sending recording devices back, but those jumped more than three hundred years simply didn’t survive, no matter how sturdy and secure they designed them. Some other options were on the table just before E-Day, but now that was all pointless.
The training area was well guarded and surrounded by high walls, but Jeff had full access and, along with Conner, was allowed entry.
Once inside they found what could best be described as an ancient settlement from the days of early man. Men were practicing fighting using Bronze Age spears and leather shields. It looked like they were filming some Hollywood movie. Another group was building a wood and mud hut, while others were tending to various farm animals. A path ran along the outskirts of this area. On the other side of the path was a modern building. The side closest to them was covered in clear glass and inside was a briefing area or classroom. A dozen more people dressed in animal skins were inside, studying holos and listening to an instructor.
“Looks like this group is getting ready for a jump to the earliest days of civilization,” Jeff said.
“Thousands of years before the birth of Christ,” Conner replied.
They continued walking, passing through a gate and past a wall to the next area.
Here they found a larger settlement, with white-columned buildings and a small market. This area looked like something from early Greece. Men and women were walking around in white togas, and another group of men were training with swords and shields.
Dr. Rhine came running up wearing a toga elaborately embroidered with gold.
“Senator Madison, it’s good to see you again. Welcome to ancient Greece.”
“This is amazing,” Jeff replied. “I can't believe you're preparing to time travel back so far. Are you ready for this?”
“I've been ready for this my whole life, Senator.” Rhine had a broad grin on his face and a wild look in his eye..
“I never in my wildest dreams thought I would have a chance to travel back in time and see the ancient civilizations I’ve studied my entire life. I’ll actually be able to visit the Temple of Zeus in its great glory and all the many wonders of the ancient world.”
Rhine turned in a slow circle, smiling. “I suppose you’ve seen the other epochs?” he asked.
“Just the first one. How many are there?”
“Ten in all, stretching over five thousand years of human history. It’s truly an incredible undertaking.”
“So they’ve told you what your purpose is?”
Jeff wasn’t sure how much Dr. Rhine knew. Plans had changed. He wouldn’t be going on a field trip to study the past; he and his fellow travelers would be tasked with speeding up the technological development of the human race.
“Yes, Mr. Madison, I understand what’s at stake. In addition to my linguistic expertise, we also have experts able to set up an entire modern colony in the past. We’ll be going back with heavy machinery, robotics technology, portable manufacturing centers, and modern military equipment and personnel.”
“So why the sword fighting?” Conner asked.
“We’ll need to develop alliances with local tribes and civilizations. None of these people for our target time period will know what a gun is until it’s fired. We want to show military might, when it’s needed, in terms they will understand. I’m told all troops have to be trained using the fighting techniques of the day, in addition to modern warfare practices.”
Jeff nodded. “Makes sense. So how many people are going back?”
“There are twenty-five or so era specialists in each of the ten groups. Then there are the generalists that will go to whatever time period is decided upon. These include doctors, engineers, builders, and business people—basically anyone that can create a modern 2038 society from scratch. Along with their families, of course. I don’t know exact numbers, but I’m guessing several hundred. Then there are the military battalions. Probably a thousand there, but I don’t know.”
Incredible. Jeff wondered how they were going to jump all those people along with all the equipment and supplies they needed. Depending on how far back they went, collecting fuel for multiple jumps would take at least several days. Unless Chronos Two was more efficient than One.
“Well, I need to run,” Dr. Rhine said. “I have a lecture in a few minutes. I’m training a group to speak ancient Greek.”
Dr. Rhine waved goodbye and headed toward the modern building. Jeff and Conner continued on their little tour. They passed through several more historical epochs, traversing ancient Rome and encountering legions and gladiators, then visiting the medieval age with knights on horses, and early modern periods with models of ships in a man-made lake and groups being taught navigation techniques. When they entered an area focused on early mass production and steel-working techniques, Vice President Paulson joined them.
“I see you guys are taking a stroll through time. What do you think so far?”
Jeff raised his eyebrows. “It’s a massive undertaking, Buddy. Training all these people, getting them ready to go back in time to live in the past and accelerate the progress of humanity, it’s . . . it’s mind-boggling.”
“It’s the only choice we have. We were lucky to have most of the experts we needed here at the base already—refugees from the Apocalypse. All we need is the final piece of the puzzle.”
“Knowing how far back to go,” Conner said.
“Exactly.”
“What’s the latest from above?” Jeff asked, still hoping for word from Holly.
Paulson grimaced.
“Still the same: widespread death and vanishing cities."
Jeff felt a wave of sadness at all of those lost. They had yet to have any type of memorial service for anyone, not even those friends and colleagues lost at Chronos One. Right now, priority one was just staying alive themselves. Proper grieving for the dead would have to wait for now.
"There are swarms of reconstituted bots flying everywhere," Paulson continued. "These are much larger than the ones we encountered earlier. Not really nanobots anymore. We’re still in contact with the remaining underground bases, but those are dropping off as the bots find them.”
“And the group with Holly?”
Paulson shook his head. “Still no contact. I wish I had news for you, Jeff.”
Paulson turned as sparks flew out from the metal a welder was working with his blow torch.
“I should be getting back inside.” He pointed to a large two-story building toward the middle of the complex. “There was an issue with a few of our key people refusing to participate in the time jump. I didn’t expect everyone to just merrily go along with this plan, so I need to discuss what’s at stake with them. Apparently not everyone believes the world is ending.”
He turned to go, then stopped and tapped behind his ear.
“Yes, what is it? What’s landing?”
Paulson flipped up a holo image from his hand. Jeff watched from over Paulson’s shoulder.
“This is from a drone surveying the West Coast.”
It was early morning. The gentle waves of the ocean lapped onto a beach. The camera panned, revealing the scattered remains of what once must’ve been a great city.
Jeff gasped.
The Golden Gate Bridge lay in ruins, half of it gone, as though a giant creature had taken a bite out of it. Beyond the bridge the once familiar skyline of San Francisco had disappeared to reveal the land under it, the gently rolling hills, much as it might have looked before the city was founded centuries ago.
The camera panned upward.
Slowly descending from the sky was a massive structure. Long white spikes protruded from its underside, like roots. The middle was bulbous and bluish green, while the top had strange purple branches shooting out in all directions, like bizarre dreadlocks.
The craft landed on the exact spot where San Francisco had once existed, its root-like structures digging into the earth, dust and debris flying up in all directions.
“There are reports from all over the globe of similar craft landing in spots previously occupied by major cities,” Paulson said solemnly.
"All those people," Jeff whispered. "Just gone."
Paulson put his hand on Jeff's shoulder to comfort him as he looked down at the floor, trying not to show emotion again.
"I'm afraid so. The ones the singularities didn't get, the swarm is now hunting down. But Jeff, I know what you're feeling. We're all feeling the same horrible grief at such an unfathomable loss of life. But we need to be strong and think of the ones that we can save."
Jeff knew he was right, but it was a nearly impossible task to try and move forward, to stay focused on what they needed to do to fight.
“Are those things colony ships?” Conner asked, trying to break the sad tension hanging in the air.
“Perhaps," Paulson said. "There’s nothing we can do now but wait to see what comes out. Jeff, in the first timeline you saw none of this?”
"None. The timeline has changed, or perhaps all of this took place after we jumped. When Holly and I went through the vortex the nanoswarms had just landed. What happened after that, I have no idea."
Jeff stared at the holo as the craft settled into its new home. He wondered just what the hell would emerge from that thing. Then he wondered if there was a way they could kill it. Then he thought about Holly. She was still out there with these things coming down. He quickly said a silent prayer, asking God for her safe return.
Holly was a fighter and so were the men with her. If any group could survive, it was them.
But now that the aliens had landed, were any of them truly safe?
Chapter 32
Just past midnight Local Time, January 16, 2038
Sunport International Airport, Albuquerque, New Mexico
The grotesque nanobot dug deeper into Holly's skull, stabbing her brain with its pincers. She screamed in agony as she tried to claw it out. But it was in too deep.
What a horrible way to die.
But then the creature stopped. And it started to wriggle out of her eye socket.
All over her body the bots stopped eating her flesh and just flew away. She sat up slowly and painfully, looking around, trying to make sense of what had happened. She was completely blind in one eye, but could see that the bots were leaving the cabin. She instantly felt sick to her stomach and vomited all over the floor, her body shaking as it convulsed.
Standing before her was Mattie.
“I can’t keep them away for long. We have to hurry.”
He reached down and grabbed her, his face strained in deep concentration. He threw her over his shoulder, then grabbed Chen and Evangelista in his other hand. Both were covered in blood. What was left of the bodies of Jing, and Charles lay in the aisle; only the gruesome bloody lower torsos of each remained. Various other body parts lay scattered about—the unidentifiable remains of the passengers that had climbed on board at the last minute. Then Mattie jumped out of the plane and landed on the tarmac.
The swarm was all around them—spinning, huge, and ominous, like a dark purple cyclone. But none of the creatures came within about a ten-foot protective dome around them.
The sea of bots opened as Mattie moved through them. Soon he was running at an incredible speed. Moments later the swarm thinned, then disappeared. Before them was a hangar, some distance from the main terminal but still beside the runway.
Mattie kicked the door open.
Inside was a small plane. He set Evangelista and Chen down, opened the plane door and placed Holly inside, onto one of the seats. She tried to move, but pain over her entire body had her moaning. She was still bleeding heavily from cuts and bite marks. She reached up and delicately touched her eye. There was nothing there but a gaping hole. She shuddered, sick to her stomach and lightheaded at the same time.
Mattie carried Chen and Evangelista into the plane and placed them in seats in the row beside Holly. Both were unconscious and covered in blood. Mattie pulled out a MedKit.
“Auto-mode. Emergency treatment, three patients,” he said to the MedKit.
“Responding, beginning treatment,” the MedKit said in a soothing female voice.
Multiple parts, probes, and legs extended from the square box. The MedKit skittered back and forth between the three mangled survivors.
“I’ve got to get us out of here,” Mattie said. “The main body of the swarm will reach us soon, and I can’t hold them off much longer.”
He climbed into the cockpit.
“Administering painkillers and sedative,” the MedKit said as it hovered over Holly with a needle.
She didn’t want to lose consciousness but the trauma to her body was too much for her to handle. She barely felt the injection as her eye slowly closed.
The small twin engine plane touched down and taxied into the terminal at Logan International Airport in Boston. Mattie looked back at his passengers. The MedKit had done its job. Both Holly and Chen were stable and would survive. The cuts and gashes they'd all suffered from the biting bots had all been repaired and were healing nicely. Most wouldn't leave a scar.
Evangelista, however, hadn’t been so lucky. He’d passed away en route, the trauma to his brain too severe to recover from. He simply drifted off to sleep, never to awaken.
Mattie had known the old soldier a long time, ever since that first encounter in Logan Heights, when Mattie put a nail through his skull all those years ago. They’d become good friends in the ensuing years after Mattie joined the team. He felt a deep sadness at having lost him. Mattie hoped he could last long enough to avenge his friend.
Holly’s eye couldn’t be saved. Medical science had made some amazing advances, but not to the point where it could regrow an eye. Skin biopolymers would minimize scarring, but for now Holly would have a gaping hole where her eye had been. The best they could do, until they got to a hospital, was add a bio-elastic bandage for protection.
First, however, they had to accomplish the mission—retrieve the recon unit.
During their flight cross country, Mattie had avoided flying bot swarms and those strange floating man o’ war things. If a swarm came too close to them, Mattie had sensed it and gently pushed it away with his mind. The process had been taxing. He had a throbbing headache from the concentration he’d needed.
The plane slowed to a stop, and Mattie went to the back. He needed to get Holly and Chen up and walking. He couldn’t leave them unprotected, and he felt too weak to carry them.
He shook Holly slightly to wake her.
“More rest is recommended for this patient,” the MedKit said as it hovered protectively.
“Not an option. We need to move and move fast,” Mattie said sternly. “Return to transport mode.”
The MedKit obeyed and folded its legs and arms back into a tight suitcase. Mattie grabbed the handle and threw the kit over his back, where it clamped itself into place like a backpack. He hoped he wouldn’t need it, but he'd learned from experience to always be prepared for the worst.
“Unnn.”
Holly was starting to wake up. Her hand went immediately to her eye.
“Careful, Holly. It’s bandaged. The MedKit has sealed it for now and treated your other wounds. You’re going to be okay. We’ve just landed in Boston. I need to retrieve the robotic recon unit, and you and Chen need to come with me. Can you stand?”
Holly struggled to sit up in the reclined airplane chair.
“W-w-will I be able to see?”
“I’m sorry, Holly. Your eye is gone.”
She looked sad as she slowly stood, then her lips pressed together firmly with determination. She was a fighter, that was for sure. Not many soldiers would survive what she’d been through and still be standing and pressing forward. An arm lost to the swarm and now an eye gone as well.
Mattie truly didn’t understand how she could handle such losses.
He reached out to steady her. “Can you walk?”
“I think so. How’s Patrick?”
“I’m going to get him up now.”
Mattie jostled Chen awake.
“You’re not the beautiful flight attendant I was dreaming about,” Chen said groggily. “Augh. Why don’t you get me a cocktail?”
Mattie chuckled, then said, “Doctor, you can have all the cocktails you want after we get in and out of this city. My treat.”
Chen rose to his feet, shaky at first, then he got his balance.
Mattie said, “We lost Evangelista en route. I’m sorry.” He looked down, trying to hide his sadness. “He was a strong soldier, but his head injuries were too severe.”
Chen frowned, and Holly looked like she was about to cry.
“He died protecting us,” she said solemnly.
“Let’s honor his memory by completing this mission,” Mattie added firmly. “I’ve managed to avoid the bot swarms, and those that get close I can repel mentally, but it’s a horrible strain on my mind and body to keep them off. I’m weak right now so if we encounter more swarms, I may need your help. Let’s just do this as fast as we can and get the hell out of here so we can make our way to Chronos Two.”
“We’re with you, Mattie,” Holly said, her voice shaking, but her tone resolute.
Mattie opened the door and they shuffled down the steps. The airport looked deserted, a far cry from the scene of panic they’d left in Albuquerque. Spots of blood had been casually splattered, Holly noted as they walked to the terminal. The swarm must’ve already made its way through the airport, devouring whoever had been trying to escape.
Out on the tarmac the smoking hulks of commercial airplanes littered the runway. All had been partially eaten away, leaving shards of metal jutting out at odd angles and pieces of hulls strewn over the area like eggshells.
Inside the terminal were more scattered human remains—torn shreds of clothing, blood, pieces of flesh, and bone. Seats had been flipped over, windows broken, and the display screens showing arrivals and departures were flickering on and off. An automated message played again and again, asking for patience for flights that had been temporarily delayed.
“Let’s find a car and get the hell out of here. This place is giving me the creeps,” Holly said, crossing her arms and rubbing her shoulders.
“I don’t think we’ll find the scene outside much more inviting,” Chen said.
In front of the terminal entrance, cars were slammed together from the rush of people who’d been trying to reach the airport. They were packed in so tight that they needed to climb over some to make their way through. Most of the cars had broken windows, where the swarm bots had eaten their way in and devoured the people inside.
Mattie thought about the families trying to escape with nowhere to go as those horrible creatures crawled all over them. He couldn’t imagine the terror and pain they must’ve felt.
They continued walking along the line of cars until it started to thin. Eventually they found one that could be driven away. There was a gaping hole in the side window, and Mattie reached inside and opened the door. Before he sat in the driver’s seat, he wiped off the crusty, blood-soaked remains of the driver’s clothing.
With Holly beside him and Chen in the back, he used his military clearance to hack the car’s mainframe and start the engine. He blinked a map overlay into his optics and started driving.
It was a short twenty-minute drive from Logan to Harvard along Interstate 90 West. Normally the streets would be crowded with traffic, but today there were only scattered vehicles crashed into the sides of the road. Mattie hoped most of the people had made it out of the city. Of course now, with the swarm rapidly spreading, eventually there’d be no safe area.
A gigantic blue-green alien ship hovered over Boston, engulfing the skyline. Pulses of red and white lights shot across its surface and the whole thing shimmered like a blob of Jell-O.
"I wonder how many of those there are," Mattie said.
"Hundreds most likely. Enough to target all of the major cities of the world," Chen answered.
"The thing is massive isn't it?" Holly said. "It has to be at least ten miles in diameter."
"Yeah, and it's just sitting there watching," Mattie said, wondering just what the ship was waiting for.
"For now," Chen said.
Mattie glanced over at him. That last comment got him worried.
"We should hurry," he said.
"Indeed."
As they drove through Boston, all around them large stretches of the city were just gone. Smooth circular craters had taken chunks out of the skyline. The drive was treacherous as many roads no longer existed and they had to wind around the city to find a path to Harvard. Mattie constantly scouted for signs of swarm activity. His headache was finally starting to subside, and his strength was slowly returning.
"My God, the Apocalypse has arrived," Holly muttered numbly.
"There's no one left," Chen said. "Do you think anyone is still alive?"
"If they are, they're hiding," Mattie said, trying not to break down, trying to stay focused on the task at hand. He'd been in many warzones in his lifetime, real hell holes, but the aftermath of this alien attack was the worst he'd seen.
"At least no one is shooting at us," he added, trying to come up with something positive.
"Not yet," Chen said.
Mattie nodded in agreement.
They arrived at Harvard without incident, and surprisingly most of the buildings were still intact.
“Before communications went down, I told Darren to wait for us at his home. He built an underground bunker in preparation for E-Day. It’s one street over on Hancock,” Chen said, pointing to a narrow tree-lined street with Victorian-style homes and brick apartments. Mattie pulled into a parking spot on the street, and they all went to the door of Dr. Corvin’s house. Several minutes passed before he answered their ring.
“I didn’t think you were going to make it, old friend,” Corvin said as he wrapped Chen in a hug.
He was tall, with a reddish-brown beard and light blue eyes
“And you too, Holly. It’s been a long time."
“We’ve had to fight to get here, Darren." Holly said. "We’ve already lost one good man, we’re under attack, and nowhere is safe.”
Corvin nodded. “I saw those things come in and destroy Boston. I’m glad to see you brought military support.”
Corvin held out his hand to Mattie. Mattie shook it firmly.
“Colonel Mathew Tedrow. Nice to meet you. I understand you have something for me.”
“Yes, Colonel. Quiet a sophisticated robotic unit, that one. I wanted to study it some, but the little thing is quite cantankerous. It has a short list of people it’ll divulge information to, and apparently you’re at the top of the list.”
“Where is the unit now?” Mattie asked, anxious to complete the mission.
“I wanted to bring it here to my home. I have a sophisticated underground bunker, you see. But it refused and actually shocked me when I tried to move it. So I left it at the lab, in the basement of the temporal testing facility.”
“We need to go there immediately, Darren,” Holly said, glancing overhead nervously. “We may not have much time.”
“Yes,” Corvin said, pointing up at the gigantic ship positioned overhead. “I suspect they’ll want to come down and check out their new territory very soon.”
“There are also other things moving about,” Chen added. “I’ll brief you on what’s happened in the car.”
They drove to the science center. Mattie noticed several small objects flying high in the sky, though it was hard to tell what they were at a distance, even with his advanced eyesight. They didn’t move like birds, but they could be bugs of some type. But then again they could be scouts for the bot swarm. His fear began to build, and he pushed down on the accelerator.
He parked the car and they entered the Harvard Science building, immediately heading down to the basement. The automated security checkpoints were still in place, so they needed Dr. Corvin’s credentials to get them through.
At the end of a long hallway, two doors opened into a large research room filled with electronics. Mattie recognized the doughnut shape of the vortex generator sitting on a metal stand in the middle of the room. It was about three feet in diameter. A tall rectangular steel device that looked like a port-a-john was beside it, with wires and tubes emerging from its top and bottom. Holly and Chen both hurried over to it.
“So there it is,” Holly said. “I was wondering when I would be able to see it. Any operational issues?”
Corvin patted the side of the port-a-john, his face beaming with pride.
“Everything seems to be working correctly since I initiated the generator core last week. I haven’t sent the latest round of data to you yet. And now, after what you just told me about Chronos, there’s no point in it. The device is useless.”
“Not so quick, Darren,” Chen said. “There is a backup facility. It’s so top secret I didn’t even know about it until a few hours ago.”
“A backup facility? My God, Patrick, that’s incredible!”
Mattie wondered what the large metallic box was, but he needed to stay focused on his mission. He scanned the room as the others were talking and gloating over Dr. Corvin’s latest creation.
Then he saw it.
Sitting on a table in the corner, scattered among circuit boards and other odds and ends, was a brown teddy bear wearing a red bow tie.
Mattie crossed the room and picked it up.
The bear’s eyes immediately began to glow, and they scanned Mattie’s face.
“Facial recognition confirmed,” the bear said in a little boy’s voice. “It’s good to see you, Colonel Tedrow. I have highly classified information for you. Uploading data now.”
The Harvard lab suddenly faded away, and the bear spoke.
"This data was recorded April 25, 2038, three months from now, near New York City. You are the first to see this video. This is what the future holds for mankind."
Mattie found himself standing in a bedroom. The walls were decorated with unicorns and mermaids, and a dozen or so stuffed animals lay on the bed. Barbies and other dolls were stacked neatly on a shelf.
A woman’s voice called out, “Alyssa! Where are you?”
Mattie turned, and the door opened. A pretty young woman with long dark hair stood at the entrance to the room, smiling.
“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you, little girl.”
Before the woman could step inside, she turned and looked behind her. “No, no!” she screamed.
Something grabbed her around the waist and yanked her, still screaming, violently backwards and into the hall.
The hair on Mattie's arm quivered as the woman yelled out in horror, begging for her life.
“Don’t take me, please! I just want to be with my daughter! Oh God! Oh God! No!”
The blood-curdling screams faded, replaced by a crazed munching sound.
Chapter 33
April 2038, Three Months After the Invasion
Alien Colony—Former Location of New York City
Eleven-year-old Alyssa Quintero watched as her mom was taken again. Only it wasn’t really her mom. She looked and acted like her mom and even had her mom’s memories, but it wasn’t her. Not the real her anyway.
Alyssa’s mom died three months ago when the Vorsh landed.
She hugged her little bear tightly as the screaming died down and the munching grew louder.
The Wrender had gotten loose again.
She wondered how aliens so advanced weren’t able to build better cages for their pets. Of course, Wrenders were very smart and always hungry.
Then another thought occurred to her.
Perhaps the Wrender didn’t get out on its own. Perhaps it had help.
That meant only one thing.
Heavy gurgling laughter came from around the corner, followed by thumping footsteps. She knew what was coming next.
Running under the bed would do no good; he would find her there. The closet, the same. There was nowhere to hide, so she tossed her teddy bear on the bed and waited.
It wouldn’t be long now.
Rounding the corner and thundering into her room came Gromel. He stood at the doorway for a second, four thick muscular legs holding him firmly in place, his body heaving in excitement, all three eyes narrowly fixed on her.
He reached out with his hand, long spindly fingers wrapping around her whole body like a tight steel cord. He picked her up and brought her to his face. His breath smelled like rotten flesh and vomit. She gagged as Gromel stared at her.
The Vorsh were not even vaguely human looking. It was hard to describe exactly what they resembled. To Alyssa it looked like someone had taken a grizzly bear’s upper body and slammed it down on a lion’s lower body in place of the head, like some kind of freakish centaur thing. Adults were about seven feet high at the lower half of the body, taller than those big Clydesdale horses that she remembered seeing once in a parade. Then the big bear torso part rose up another six feet or so, topping them out at over thirteen feet. The children were smaller, of course, but still taller than her father had been.
She had trouble reading emotions in the Vorsh, even with her neural implants, but she knew the twisted expression on Gromel’s face meant nothing but excitement and pleasure.
He reached out with his other hand and covered her head.
Alyssa could hear Flost yelling for him to stop, but it was too late.
Gromel pulled off her head.
Her brain would still register images for another minute or so, until the oxygen burned out of it. She knew this because Gromel had done the same thing three times before.
He dropped her body carelessly on the floor and held her head out in front of him like a trophy. His sister, Flost, entered the room, screaming and doing what passed for crying among the Vorsh. Gromel pushed her away and dangled Alyssa’s head out in front of her, teasing her with it.
Then darkness fell as the last thoughts in Alyssa’s brain faded away.
Alyssa woke up in bed and stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling above. Then she touched her neck.
Not even a scar.
The nanobots coursing through her veins had sealed her head back onto her body. She was good as new, back to living this pretend life.
As a Vorsh pet.
Gromel and Flost were just toddlers in the human sense of the word, and their play tended to be rough. They kept her in this manufactured home like a doll in a dollhouse. All of her basic needs were provided for—water and any food she wanted. All she had to do was think it and the tiny nanobots circulating like dust in the air around her would create it for her.
Every once in a while she would get to go out and see what the world was transforming into.
Today was such a day.
She grabbed Teddy as Flost picked her up, gently cradling her as she put her in a clear plastic container. Then they walked outside. Flost was a female, and much like human girls, she was nurturing and caring. Gromel, on the other hand, was a terror. Not only had he torn her head off multiple times, but he’d also torn off her legs and arms and even thrown her in the Wrender’s cage to be half-eaten before Flost could rescue her. Even though the nanos would repair her, each time she still felt all the pain and terror.
She only wanted this horror to end.
But the end was nowhere in sight.
They walked through the home, past Gromel and Flost’s mother, who stood in a trance-like state, logged into the Vorsh equivalent of the Stream. Normally Flost would put on some type of mask to help her breathe outside, but not today. She apparently didn’t need it any longer.
As they walked outside, Alyssa could see immediately that the world had once again changed. The sky had a slightly green tinge to it, not the usual blue that she remembered from before the invasion. And the air felt heavy and humid, more like late summer than early spring in New York. She felt short of breath even as she gulped in the warm air.
All that remained of the once great city were a few crushed buildings and some highways that had already started growing over with a strange type of weed.
Planted firmly on top of the remains of New York was a Vorsh supercity. Its roots went far and wide, like a giant tree. Alyssa could see some of the red roots pulsing under her like veins. She wasn’t exactly sure, but she thought that the city might be alive. With the Vorsh, it was hard to tell the difference between what was living and what was mechanical.
Alyssa heard noise and chatter as Flost’s friends approached. The Vorsh girl held her up in the container, and her friends cooed in pleasure. One opened the box and pulled her out, wrenching her arms. Then the creature began patting and stroking Alyssa’s hair. Another wanted to hold her and started pulling her arm.
Alyssa felt it snap, shards of bones piercing her skin. The pain was intense, and she screamed.
Flost pulled her away from the other Vorsh children, scolding them, and placed her back in the container.
Alyssa held her arm out, tears streaming down her face. It never got any easier. The tingling and burning began as the nanos flooded her arm. The bone receded back into her body and melded together. In just minutes the thing was healed, just as good as it had been before.
To be broken or ripped off again.
Alyssa thought about her mother and father. Her real mother, not the bizarre clone thing that kept popping up in her little dollhouse. The day the swarms came to New York she and her family managed to escape and retreat to a small summer home they had in the mountains, driven there by intense fear. They survived for almost a week, until the swarm finally found them.
Alyssa shuddered as she thought about the creatures buzzing her mother and then diving into her father and eating through his skull. She didn’t know why, but they kept her and her mother alive, injecting them with something. She touched the side of her head, remembering how the horrible metal bugs latched onto her ear and put things inside her. Then her mind had opened up. She could sense everything around her more intensely, and she could feel the Vorsh in her brain, their thoughts and feelings rushing over her.
She was changed forever.
Her mother also changed. She was easily controlled by the Vorsh. Flost could simply think and her mother would act. Flost would laugh and giggle as she made Alyssa’s mom dance like a bizarre puppet. That was her real mother. She was killed by Gromel, simply torn into pieces too small to put back together. They’d lost three copies since then. One was thrown into a black hole that the Vorsh used for power, another just disappeared one day—no one knew where she went—and the last one was devoured by the Wrender. Each time she came back. But Alyssa knew it wasn’t really her.
Time passed as Alyssa watched Flost play with her friends. Even with her heightened senses she had a hard time following their movements, they were so fast. She thought she heard them talking once about how Earth was so much easier to move around on than their home planet, something about the gravity being lighter.
Alyssa felt her cage jostle, shaking her from her observation of her alien captors. Another of Flost’s playmates had arrived, and she’d brought her own little pet—another terrified little girl, Susanna, who was a few years younger than Alyssa. She’d met Susanna a few weeks ago, but hadn’t seen her since.
She glanced over at Susanna in her cage and managed a slight wave. The girl waved back, a tired, tortured look on her face, and crawled closer to Alyssa. The cages were side by side, but neither girl could touch. They simply stared at each other in understanding.
Soon the Vorsh girls grew tired of playing and came over to show off their pets. There was the usual stroking and cooing—eight long, spindly fingers on each of the aliens’ hands running through her blond hair. Alyssa got passed between the girls and held over their massive shoulders like a baby. As she lay there she could feel the Vorsh clothing probing her body, little tendrils weaving and crawling, constantly moving, trying to figure out what she was. She’d wondered if the glowing, pulsing, rainbow-shaded clothing was alive. She’d heard Flost’s mother refer to the clothing as the Shree, which made her think the clothes were another species the Vorsh conquered somewhere out in space.
As she flopped around in the slimy tendrils on the female’s shoulder, a discussion sprang up. Alyssa could only understand bit and pieces of their language through her neural connection with them. This time the females seemed to be talking about her and Susanna.
A decision was made, and one of the Vorsh came over and pulled Alyssa’s blue dress off. Flost then removed Susanna’s black polka dot dress. The two females then exchanged the dresses. Her arm was twisted again as Flost shoved the new dress over her head. But before the other female could put her blue dress on Susanna, several Vorsh males showed up.
She could tell they were males because they were larger and stronger and had spikes coming out of the row of humps on their backs. They were also lacking the rows of nipple-like bumps that progressed down the front of the females’ upper bodies.
The girls hurried over to the boys, dropping Alyssa and Susanna in the grass. Alyssa waited for a second to make sure the aliens were occupied, then she slowly crawled over to Susanna. She simply sat there on the ground, naked and shivering, not even trying to cover up.
“Hi, Susanna.”
The girl looked up and dried her tears.
“How have you been?”
“The same,” Susanna said between sniffles. “I miss my parents.”
“Me too. Have you seen any other people alive?”
“No, not for the last month or so,” Susanna said quietly. “But I don’t get out much. Mostly they keep me in a small cage in their home. Have you seen anyone?”
Alyssa thought back to the other night when they took her to the fights. She’d watched from her cage, of course. Human men, under complete mental control of the Vorsh, were forced to fight with swords and knives until one severed the head of the other. The Vorsh seemed to be betting on the outcome of the fight. None of the humans actually died. Their heads were reattached so they could fight again another day.
But Alyssa didn’t need to tell Susanna any of that. She simply said, “I’ve seen a few men that they keep like us.”
“Like pets?”
Alyssa nodded.
“Do you think they’ll ever let us go?” Susanna asked, her eyes welling with tears.
Alyssa had thought about escaping many times, but her room was always locked, and mechanical things floated around all the time, watching over the house. Then, even if she did get away, where would she go? Were any people fighting the Vorsh? She had no way of knowing.
“No, they’ll never set us free. If we want to get out, then we have to do it ourselves.”
Susanna’s eye opened wide in excitement. “We should try together. We could meet here and run away into the woods. That’s where my father and I were going before they got him.”
“But how? I can’t get out of my room.”
“Can you make the floaters move?”
“Floaters?”
“You know, those weird things that are always floating around all over the place.”
Alyssa had seen them, of course. They were everywhere, like little dandelion seeds drifting in the air. She had no idea what they were, much less figured out how to make them move. The Vorsh, however, could easily manipulate them.
“You can move them?” she asked Susanna.
“Yes,” Susanna replied proudly. “I learned how to do it just recently. I think I may be able to get them to open my cage.”
This could be their chance to get away. Alyssa clapped her excitement, then peeked around to see if Flost had noticed. She was still caught up with her friends.
“Okay, Susanna, let’s do it tonight. Try to get the floaters to open your cage, then you need to help me get out. My house is that one.” She pointed to the long, flat, white building behind them. “They keep me in a room toward the back, just off from the main sleeping area.”
She gestured to Flost, who was galloping back toward them.
“Tonight,” Susanna whispered as her Vorsh picked her up and tossed her naked body into the transparent cage, along with Alyssa’s blue dress.
Flost followed, grabbing her around the waist and tossing her casually into her cage as well. The alien girls continued their excited jabbering. Alyssa couldn’t follow it all—something about the males.
Before leaving the courtyard, several of the girls plucked giant red seeds from the trees that grew out of the roots under the city. The seeds were partially transparent, and something grew inside them. One flickered and spun in fear as it was plucked from the tree. The girls’ tongues darted out and slurped up the insides, the growing thing that Alyssa watched quickly disappearing down one of the girls’ throats.
Alyssa’s stomach turned. She had to get away from these horrible creatures. Maybe there were other human survivors.
She could only hope.
Alyssa kept her eyes closed, pretending to sleep as Flost turned out the lights and went to bed. Her leg itched slightly as it healed. The Wrender had jumped up while Flost was holding her and taken a huge bite from it, tearing her flesh almost to the bone. The pain was searing. Flost merely scolded the beast. The nasty thing looked like a feathered cobra with hundreds of tiny centipede-like legs spreading out under its body. It sulked off into a corner.
She had no idea what time Susanna would get there, or if she would even come at all. She held out very little hope of ever getting out of her prison and this tortured life. Even if she wanted to die, she couldn’t. Whatever they did to make her heal made sure of that.
Alyssa sometimes wondered if this was all just some horrible nightmare. Maybe she died with her family and they’d gone to heaven while she went down to hell.
What did she do that was so bad that God hated her this much?
Running her hand along her leg she could feel that the tissue had healed almost completely. She would have no trouble running if she needed to. For now, though, she sat and waited, watching the tiny floaters flapping their delicate bodies gently under the moonlight.
She picked up her teddy bear and held him close. She knew he was just a stupid stuffed animal, but he made her feel better. He made her think of her father, who’d given him as a gift last year.
Alyssa didn’t have to wait long.
The floaters ceased their random movements and began lining up and moving toward her cage. Then just around the corner, little Susanna peeked in from the hallway. She was scrunching up her face in deep concentration.
The floaters glided across the room, like dandelion puffs caught in the wind, and touched her cage. They flickered ever so slightly, and a hole opened up instantly on the wall. Then they fluttered away. Alyssa walked out through the hole and stepped quietly to the floor. The Wrender might be near, stiffing around. The last thing she needed was to get eaten just as she was about to finally escape.
She tiptoed across the floor, barefoot, and met Susanna, who’d stopped her straining but had a layer of sweat dripping down from her forehead. Alyssa touched her finger to her lips for Susanna to stay quiet. She grabbed the girl’s hand, cradling Teddy in her other arm, and they tiptoed out into the main area.
The Vorsh slept together in a big pile in a cushiony section of the home. The girls eased past the mound of alien flesh. The Wrender stirred in the corner, rustling its feathers, but didn’t wake up. They made it safely out of the building and into the courtyard.
It was dark, but the partial moon lit their way, as did the pulsing roots beneath them. Alyssa knew her way around somewhat since Flost carried her a lot. On the other side of the courtyard, there was a path that led out of the city. Once they reached it, they moved faster.
Overhead, Vorsh air cars sped by, tiny lines of light progressing in an ordered fashion.
When they got just outside the compound, Alyssa felt something moving under her arm. She immediately dropped Susanna’s hand and tried to get it off of her.
Teddy fell to the ground.
Then he stood and spoke softly in the child-like voice of a young boy.
“Alyssa and Susanna, I need your help.”
“What? What are you?” Alyssa asked.
She was shocked to see Teddy moving like this. He'd never done that before.
“I’m a robotic reconnaissance unit made by humans. I’m here to learn as much as I can about the aliens so we can fight them.”
“There are other humans out there alive?” Susanna asked, jumping up and down.
“I don’t know,” Teddy said. “But if there are, I will find them. We will find them together. And then I need to get to Boston, to Harvard University, if it's still there.”
Alyssa grabbed Susanna’s arm tight as the thrill of hope filled her heart.
“But before we go I need to get more information on the aliens.”
“How?” Alyssa asked.
“I’ve been observing Susanna and the way she can interface with the floaters. I believe that through her I can connect to what would be considered the alien Stream. But I need her mind to do it.”
Susanna backed away. “But I don’t know how I do it. And I’ve never connected to any Stream.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll help you. Here, take my hand and pick me up.”
Teddy held out his furry little hand, and Susanna grabbed it, then pulled him up and close to her chest, like a baby.
“I’m going to need to access your cochlear implant.”
Teddy reached up and covered Susanna’s ear with his paw. Her eyes immediately rolled back into her head and her eyelids began blinking erratically. Then her whole body shook, like she was having a seizure. Alyssa grabbed her by the shoulders to steady her. Then just as suddenly as they started, the tremors stopped and Susanna relaxed, staring vacantly up into the night sky.
One of the floaters came drifting down, slowly flapping its soft body like a jellyfish in the ocean. The long end of it touched Susanna on the forehead, landing ever so gently. Then it began glowing, a dim white light that countered the red pulsing under their feet.
Alyssa waited for what seemed like an eternity as the floater pushed its data into Susanna’s skull. Finally the glowing stopped and the floater lifted up and continued on its way, randomly riding the air currents like thousands of others.
Teddy lifted his paw from Susanna’s ear, tiny wires and probes retracting back into his body. Susanna collapsed into Alyssa’s arms.
“I have what I need,” Teddy said. “She should recover in just a few minutes, then we can get out of here.”
Moments later, Susanna regained consciousness, but her eyes were glassy and almost unblinking.
“I saw everything, Alyssa. Their home planet, their history, their travel through space . . . All of it.”
She looked awed, her eyes wide.
“You can tell me about it later,” Alyssa said. “Right now we need to leave.”
She helped the younger girl to her feet and they continued on their journey, this time with Teddy walking beside them. Then Alyssa felt a tug in the back of her head. She tried to ignore it and kept walking.
There it was again, pulling at her.
Oh no.
She felt Flost calling out to her in her mind, probing, wondering where she was. She tried to block her out, but the connection was too strong.
Then Flost looked through her own eyes, seeing what she was seeing.
“Run!” she screamed at Susanna and Teddy. “She’s awake and coming for me! Flost is coming! Leave before she gets here!”
Alyssa heard the galloping thump of a running Vorsh. Flost would easily be able to cover the distance to them in seconds.
Fear spread across Susanna’s face as she dropped Alyssa’s hand and began running. But before she could even take two steps, Flost was on them, grabbing both girls up in her arms.
“Poor baby . . . New friend bad. Got out . . . Scared. Flost love, but must . . . punish.”
Alyssa could only make out some of Flost’s words in between the gurgling and grunting of the Vorsh language.
Hope faded and despair set in as Flost carried her and Susanna back home. Her friend was whimpering and crying beside her. But this time Alyssa refused to cry. She’d learned from Teddy that there was still hope. Other humans could still be alive. She would learn to control the floaters like Susanna did and she would escape again.
The Vorsh would not hold her.
She would not be their little pet.
As they left the path and started back to the compound, she glanced back and saw that her little mechanical bear was gone.
She whispered quietly under her breath, “Goodbye, Teddy. Good luck.”
Chapter 34
11:00 a.m. EST, January 16, 2038
Harvard University
The laboratory slowly came back into focus as the horrifying scenes of the future faded from Mattie’s mind. His heart went out to poor Alyssa and her friend Susanna. What a terrible future they faced if he and the other survivors weren’t able to succeed in their mission.
“Mattie. Mattie? Are you there?”
Holly was tapping his arm, trying to rouse him from his trance.
“How long was I out?”
“About half an hour.”
It had felt like two days. He rubbed his forehead as the throbbing in his temple returned.
“I need to contact Paulson.”
He tapped behind his ear. Thank goodness the military com-lines were still operational.
“Hello, Mattie, I’ve been waiting for your call.”
“Claire, I was trying to reach the vice president—can you please put me through to him? I have urgent data.”
“I’m prepared to download that data.”
“But—”
Before Mattie could finish, he felt a strange tingle from his ocular implant. Then a flood of alien data burst across his vision—star charts, histories of alien planets, hundreds of species, mathematical formulas, pictures, videos, strange writing, buildings, machine diagrams—all of it speeding through his mind faster than he could process.
It was over within minutes. Claire had forcibly downloaded the teddy bear’s data. Mattie had no idea she had that ability.
“I’m sorry for being so intrusive, Mattie, but we need that data and we don’t have time to wait. I’ll report to the vice president that your mission was successful. Thank you for your service. We’ll take it from here.”
“Claire! Claire! I need to talk to Paulson!”
Mattie tried to connect again, but the line was no longer functioning.
“What happened?” Holly asked.
“Claire just downloaded all the data from the bear, but she won’t let me talk to Paulson. Something’s not right about her.”
“I’ve felt the same way for some time.”
“We need to get to the base. I need to make sure Paulson gets what’s still in here.” Mattie tapped his head. “So he, and not Claire, can make the right decisions for us,”
“Agreed,” Holly said. “Patrick, Darren? Is the generator ready for transport?”
Chen and Corvin were busy extracting some type of metal box from the mechanical port-a-john they were so excited about when they first got there.
“We’re just about done,” Chen said as he disconnected several wires still holding the box to the larger device.
“What is that thing?” Mattie asked.
“That’s what we’re calling a temporal chamber, and Patrick and Darren are pulling out the generator that makes it work. The chamber is a sort of safe room against major waves in the time stream. It’s complicated to explain, but basically a bubble forms and whoever is inside the bubble is safe.”
“Safe from what?”
“Changes to the timeline.”
Mattie wasn’t grasping the chamber’s purpose. He tilted his head, and frowned at Holly.
“Think of it like this,” Holly said. “If someone were to go back in time and commit some type of horrible act, like wiping out an entire animal species—say, the first wolves—we could theoretically place a dog into the temporal bubble and it would be safe when the time wave hits the present day. Then it would come out of the bubble and be the only dog ever in existence.”
“In theory, of course,” Corvin added for emphasis. “We haven’t tested any major timeline changes, nor do we ever want to.”
“So why did you build it?”
“It was my idea to start with,” Chen jumped in. “I wanted some type of recording device to be placed in the causality bubble that would forever keep a record of actual events in the alpha, the prime, timeline. That way we could periodically check it and see if anyone was manipulating the timeline.”
“Did it work?” Mattie asked.
“Apparently so,” Chen said. “It was able to identify the feeble manipulations of Howard Nichols.”
“And eventually Jing Wei,” Holly added.
“Yes.” Chen nodded. “But we haven’t been able to completely sync up the data analysis between this device and the Chronos virtual mainframe. Hence the delayed reporting on both Jing and Howard.”
Mattie understood what they were trying to do and could see the implications.
“You’re anticipating a jump to the distant past to counter the alien attack,” he said. “I’m sure that Paulson has planned for this. If that happens, then the timeline could be drastically altered.”
“Exactly,” Holly said. “And do you know what could happen to everyone left in this timeline?”
Mattie paused to consider the possibilities.
“I don’t know, it depends on what changes take place. The variables are infinite. You could completely disappear, never having been born, or you could be the President of the United States.”
Holly smiled, as did Chen and Corvin.
“I think we could make a theoretical physicist out of this one,” Corvin said, chuckling.
“That’s another reason we made this device,” Holly said. “So we don’t just wink out of existence. Whoever is inside the bubble is safe.”
“That’s all well and good,” Mattie said, his thoughts returning to their mission. “But we need to get out of here. We have a long trip ahead of us. Are you almost done?”
“Just about . . . there.”
Chen pulled the generator loose and held it out like a baby that had just emerged from the birth canal.
“Great, bag it and let’s go,” Mattie said. He stuffed the teddy bear into his pack and readied his weapon. “Follow me.”
He led them out of the basement lab, back the way they’d come, and emerged outside into a cold, cloudy January day. Mattie checked overhead, but didn’t see any bot scouts, nor could he feel any in his mind. But the alien ship was still there, hovering over their heads ominously. Part of it had changed color, appearing slightly whiter, and tiny tendrils were growing out of its underside and quivering in the high altitude winds. Whatever was going on with the thing likely didn't bode well for them.
They hopped in the car, but Dr. Corvin hesitated.
“I think maybe I should stay here. Someone needs to watch out for the temporal testing facility, and I have my underground bunker at my home. I should be okay.”
“You don’t want to stay here, trust me on that,” Mattie said. “I’ve seen the future, and there is only torture and death for anyone left. You should come with us.”
Corvin’s face paled.
“What . . . what did you see?”
“I’ll tell you about it on the way to the airport.”
“He’s right,” Holly said, glancing at Mattie, concern on her face as well. “You can help us at the new Chronos base.”
“But what about the people still here in the city and those that fled to the countryside?”
“If they aren’t dead from the swarm by now,” Mattie replied, “they will be very soon. And those who do survive will wish they died.”
Corvin didn’t need any more convincing. He jumped into the back of the car, and Mattie took off for the airport. He couldn’t help but feel this was the calm before the storm. The city was mostly cleared out, a few stragglers remained, and a few cars passed by them. A couple drivers waved to them, trying to get them to stop. But there was no way to know what these people wanted, if they needed help, or simply information. Mattie ignored them. They had no time to stop. They needed to get to their plane.
The airport was the same as when they’d left it—empty for the most part—although it looked like looters had been through the shops recently and made off with as much merchandise they could carry. They quickly passed through the vacant airport security checks to get to their plane.
“We have a long way to go, Mattie,” Holly said, “so perhaps it’s time for a transportation upgrade?”
She was right. The little twin engine plane they’d used to fly cross country was not going to make it very far for their journey to the other side of the world. They needed something bigger, something that would get them to Iraq on one tank of gas with no stops. Mattie scanned the tarmac.
“I see just what we need.”
Sitting in a refueling area was a giant new model, long distance FedEx cargo plane. Packages lay scattered on the tarmac beside it, and several loading carts were parked nearby, full of packages ready to be shipped. All that meant the plane was likely empty or only partially full. It would be light, and a full tank of gas in the newly designed fuel efficient engine should take them anywhere in the world.
“Let’s check it out,” Mattie said, pointing at the plane.
Holly jogged up the ramp, ducked inside, and then called out to the men below, “Looks like we have our plane. It’s not first class, but it’ll get us there. And it’s nearly empty.”
Mattie checked the fuel lines and made sure the auto-refueling bots had done their jobs. Then he climbed into the cockpit.
“Strap in everyone, we’re heading out.”
The back area was designed primarily for cargo, so passenger space was limited. The others managed to find a few stiff seats. Mattie checked the instruments and initiated the co-pilot AI.
“Greetings, who am I speaking with?” the AI asked in a firm, masculine voice.
“Colonel Mathew Tedrow, United States Army.”
“Welcome, Colonel Tedrow. What is our destination today?”
“Baghdad, Iraq.”
“Cargo hold is very light—will we be taking on more packages?”
“No, just what we have now. Speed is the top priority on this trip.”
“Understood, Colonel Tedrow. Coordinating with tower systems. We are clear to begin take off. Picking up strange readings on radar. A large object is on approach.”
Oh shit.
“On screen.”
A 3-D radar image appeared over the cockpit control panel in front of Mattie. A large section of the alien ship had broken off from the main body and was descending. Radar indicated it was about a mile up and dropping rapidly. It was behind them, so he couldn’t see it out of the front cockpit window.
Mattie climbed out of his seat, ran to the side door, and opened it to peek outside. The section of the alien ship was coming down, directly over their heads. White root-like tendrils were growing out of the underside of the craft’s bulbous body. Protruding from the top were more sprigs, making the whole thing look like a giant spider plant.
A plant that was about to land on top of them.
Mattie slammed the door shut and raced back to the cockpit.
“What is it, Mattie?” Holly asked.
“It looks like a giant alien city is about to embed itself on top of Boston. I’m going to try to get us out of here before we become plant food.”
Mattie synced up with the AI navigation controls.
“Takeoff window is too narrow,” the AI said calmly. “I recommend we wait until the area above us clears.”
“Not an option. We go now.”
The engines started, and the plane taxied out onto the runway. They turned and turned again. Stretching out before them was the giant alien ship, still coming down.
This is going to be close.
Mattie pressed the throttle forward and initiated takeoff. The plane hurtled down the runway. In seconds they were in the air, even as the first tendrils of the alien vessel reached out to kiss the ground.
They were right in the underbelly of the thing, the giant tendrils quivering like a jellyfish’s tentacles trying to catch an unwary fish. Mattie shifted the plane to the left, then right, trying to avoid the damned things. A small gap of light was all he could shoot for as the plane built up speed.
“I need more power!” he yelled to the AI.
“Engines at maximum.”
The gap slowly closed as more tendrils draped themselves around the plane.
They weren’t going to make it.
Chapter 35
7:30 p.m. Local Time, January 16, 2038
Chronos Two, Hillah, Iraq
“I have the data from Colonel Tedrow. He was able to successfully make contact with the recon unit.”
Paulson was standing in the command center reviewing the latest report on the alien invasion. He looked up as Claire stopped in front of him. Finally they had news.
“Let’s hear it,” said President Diaz, who was standing beside him, dark circles under his eyes from the stress of the last day and a half.
“Two thousand and sixty years ago our time, plus or minus ten years, at a probability of ninety-five percent. That was when the aliens, who are called Vorsh, first developed orbital space flight.”
Paulson heard Claire’s words without showing any emotion. His heart rate increased slightly, however, with a small measure of excitement. He met President Diaz’s gaze.
“That means we have a chance,” he said.
Diaz nodded.
Any farther back into the past and the operation would’ve been much more difficult. Ten thousand years would’ve put them in the Stone Age, and they would’ve had to teach the sparse populations of humans the very basics of civilization. Even though some societies were still primitive two thousand years ago, people weren’t living in caves and agriculture and writing systems were highly developed in many parts of the world.
“What can you tell us about these aliens?” Diaz asked.
“I have a vast amount of data on them,” Claire said casually. “What would you like to know?”
“I’d like to know why the hell they’re attacking us, for one,” Diaz said, throwing a coffee mug across the room.
“They plan to colonize Earth, terraform it so that it resembles their world. They’ve done this dozens of times on other planets as their population grows. Each time they’ve eradicated or enslaved the intelligent species living there.”
“But how did they know about our defenses? How were they able to defeat us so easily?” Paulson asked.
“Quite simply, the Vorsh are the ultimate adapters,” Claire said. “They try one tactic, like they did with the virus and nanoswarm, and if that doesn’t work, then they come in with the heavier artillery, like the bigger, stronger, reconstituted bots and the singularity generators.”
“But how did they know what type of virus to use?” Diaz asked.
“They sent a small intelligent probe here over eighty years ago that went undetected by Earth’s defenses. It remained invisible, collecting data, which it sent back to the main Vorsh flotilla. The probe then manufactured the virus and ejected it into space when the time was right.”
“So they’ve been planning this attack since the 1950s? We should’ve seen this coming,” Diaz said angrily.
Claire shook her head. “It would have been impossible.”
“We could use a biological weapon against them,” Diaz said. “Just like they tried to do to us.”
“Wouldn't work. Nothing you can do will make any difference,” Claire said. “The Vorsh are just too advanced. They have nano defenses boosting their immune system as well as biosuits to protect them from Earth pathogens. In other words, gentlemen, there won’t be a War of the Worlds scenario when the Vorsh land. They won’t get killed off by a human cold virus.”
Paulson nodded. But he was thinking, both looking back and planning for the future.
“We should’ve been better prepared,” he said. “At least had defenses set up for multiple attacks. All enemies adapt and we should’ve been ready—adapted with them.”
“If you somehow had been able to defeat the second stage, the probability of which I calculate at less than a half of one percent, then the Vorsh would’ve adapted again with even more powerful weapons. The data shows such weapons being used on other worlds, and the destruction is epic. The Vorsh have been successful conquerors and colonizers throughout the galaxy. No species has been able to stand up to them. No, our only solution is the long jump into the past.”
“Well, then, let’s get the team ready,” Paulson said to his assistant, Melinda Rider, who'd just stepped in the room. “We jump immediately.”
“Hold that order, Melinda,” Diaz said, turning to Paulson. “We’ll need to brief the Congressional Intelligence Committee on this.”
“Are you sure we want to do that, Martin? We’ll face resistance from some fool who doesn’t understand what’s happening.”
Paulson had learned to always get a buy-in before just rushing forward, but this situation was different. There was too much at stake to have a political debate.
“We’re talking about changing the time stream to a point where none of us may exist,” Diaz said. “We need to let them know.”
Diaz was right. There was a lot of theory being bantered around by the scientists, but all of them generally agreed that the type of radical changes they were proposing to the time stream would very likely result in everything they knew changing forever.
Yet what was the alternative, the extinction of the entire human race at the hands of a technologically superior alien race?
“Okay, let’s have a quick meeting of the committee and relevant advisors,” Paulson said. “But we should have the jump team and their equipment ready to go as soon as they’ve been briefed.”
Paulson blinked up his schedule from his optical implant and tapped away at the empty air in front of him, quickly calling an emergency meeting. Claire touched his shoulder after he was done.
"There's one other thing, Buddy."
"Yes, Claire."
"They lost Evangelista en route to Boston. He died saving the others from the swarm. He died a hero."
The loss hit Paulson like a sledgehammer. His old friend who'd been by his side for nearly fifty years was gone. He couldn't believe it. He thought the old soldier was invincible, especially after Paulson saved him when they were young men during Operation Desert Storm. His sadness slowly gave rise to anger, then rage. He would get those fucking aliens, one way or another. They'd killed so many, and they would pay. Even if it took him two thousand years, he would have revenge.
An hour later everyone was gathered in the situation room. President Diaz stood at the head of the table, Paulson to his right, Jeff Madison to his left. The remaining spots around the large table were the seven members of the United States House Intelligence Subcommittee on Technical and Tactical Intelligence, and the fourteen members of the United States Senate Select Committee on Intelligence. Jeff was the committee Chair. Making up the rest of the group were several generals, intelligence operatives, and advisors, including Claire, and scientific experts from the Chronos project. It was a big and unwieldy group. Paulson would’ve preferred a much smaller bunch, but Diaz wanted everybody there.
“Thank you all for coming so quickly,” Diaz began. “I hope by now everyone has read the latest intelligence reports on the alien invasion, as well as the true purpose of this base."
Several people tried to speak, ask questions, but Diaz quickly held up his hand and cut them off, maintaining control in the room.
"I know you have questions, but hear me out first. From those reports you know that we’ve already been able to place multiple robotic recon units undercover as children’s toys to infiltrate the alien encampments. We have Claire to thank for that.”
He gestured toward her and smiled. She was in his good graces once again.
Paulson still wasn’t sure about her abilities, about his control over her abilities. She’d been right every time, yet she was the ultimate maverick, independent and free-thinking. Checks and balances were sometimes a necessity.
Maybe she was just too much like him, wanting to get the job done with as little outside fuss as possible.
“We’ve just received information from one of those units,” Diaz said. He then met the eye of everyone in the room.
“Ladies and gentlemen, what you’re about to see is horrific. This footage is from three months in the future. The recon unit was able to make it to the Harvard Chronos test facility and jump back in time, where it was retrieved by one of our military assets. Before I show this, I need to emphasize that none of this information leaves this room. We don’t want to incite panic among the survivors here and if there is someone working against us, we don’t want them having this information either.”
Diaz nodded to Claire, and a video immediately began playing from the holo in the middle of the table. Paulson looked away. He’d already seen the whole thing and felt no need to see a little girl’s head getting ripped off another time. He knew what the Vorsh thought of them, that they were nothing but pets, animals to be played with or hunted or forced to fight for sport.
The group’s reaction was as expected, with lots of gasps and wide-eyed expressions of shock. Diaz stopped the video after twenty minutes.
“We have a lot more footage, but you get the idea,” Diaz said. “These aliens see us as an inferior species. Over the next three months they’ll kill off the vast majority of the population and enslave and torture the rest, including our children. Unless we stop them now.”
Everyone was still too much in shock to say very much, but a few of the military brass grumbled words to the effect of “Hell, yeah.”
“The recon unit was able to access their version of the Stream as well,” Diaz continued. “We have the date we need.”
The room quieted down and all eyes fixed on the president.
“Two thousand and sixty years ago. That was when the aliens developed the ability to send rockets up to orbit their planet.”
Sounds of shock and surprise rose from the group.
“Over two thousand years ago?” Congressman Delany said. “We were still riding donkeys back then.”
“That level of advancement is incredible,” Senator Parsons said.
“How are we going to compete with that?” Senator Manchester asked.
“Folks, folks! Attention please!” Diaz said firmly. “We know that’s a long time ago. But be thankful it wasn’t fifty thousand years ago when we were still living in caves and fighting Neanderthals. At least two thousand years is within the scope of recorded human history. We can work with people from that time period.”
“So we’re really going through with this?” Senator Gordon asked.
“What choice do we have, Senator?” Diaz asked. “Let the human race go extinct?”
“We don’t know for sure that will happen,” Gordon retorted, waving one arm freely. “Sure, we have the video, but what about other human survivors? There could be a resistance forming to fight the aliens.”
Paulson knew it. The man refused to believe what his eyes had seen. He knew there’d be at least one to caution against the very actions essential to securing a future for them all.
“There was no evidence of organized resistance in the data we found,” Claire said.
Diaz nodded to Claire, who rose to address the group.
“I’ve been through all the data, and it shows there are at most several thousand humans still alive three months from now and they are kept as pets or slaves. The Vorsh have a history of expanding outward from their home world and completely eradicating the intelligent species on the planets they colonize. I can assure you that with our present level of technology, we have a point zero one percent chance of fighting the Vorsh and causing any type of damage and a point zero two percent chance of negotiating with them.”
“Perhaps they would let us live on our own part of the planet?” Congressman Winchell suggested.
“Like on a reservation?” Manchester said. “Like we did with the Native Americans? Yeah, that worked out so well for them.”
“Our best option is going into the past, three hundred years before the target date of thirty BC,” Claire said. “By my calculations, that will be the amount of time needed to build the infrastructure and bring the local population up to a technological level advanced enough to develop space flight. From there, human society should advance along a track parallel to that of the Vorsh. When we meet in the year 2038, we will be on equal footing or possibly even more advanced than the aliens.”
“Yeah, and then we’ll have one hell of a war on our hands,” General Bisson grumbled.
"So time travel really is possible? I still can't believe it," Winchell said.
"I know it's a lot to take in," Diaz said. "But time travel is a reality, and right now it's the only hope we've got."
“But we’re talking about changing the entire course of human history,” Gordon said, holding both hands out to press his point. “We’ll be going back in time to before the birth of Christ. As a result of our actions, meddling with the timeline, he may never be born.”
Paulson knew the senator was a staunch Christian fundamentalist. He would often quote Bible scripture in his speeches on the Senate floor. Gordon also had a strong following in the Senate.
“Why do you insist on bringing up these fairy tales, Senator?” Congressman Lambert asked, pounding the table. “We’re not going to jeopardize the survival of the entire human race just so your so-called savior can be born.”
Gordon jumped up, red-faced and furious. “You’ll rot in hell with those comments!”
“Blasphemer!” one of Gordon’s supporters yelled.
Paulson closed his eyes and rubbed at them. He’d known this issue—at least some version of it—would rise to the fore.
“We’re all going to rot in hell,” Lambert said. “The aliens will see to that.”
“Gentlemen, let’s remain calm and think about this,” Paulson said in a deliberately relaxed voice. After sitting quietly and listening, it was time he got involved.
“Let’s not turn this into a religious discussion. We all have our beliefs, differing beliefs, or we hold to no creed. We have no idea what will happen to Jesus or Muhammad or any other figures from our history. But keep this in mind: if there is a God, he will find a way to get his message to us. If that means having the birth of his son or a prophet come in year zero in Bethlehem or in the year 777 in Vinland, then he will do it.”
A few people nodded their agreement, but Gordon wasn’t buying it.
“This whole time machine you’ve built here goes against nature. It’s like spitting in the face of God. Man is not meant to have this type of power.”
“Well, we do have it, Senator,” Diaz said, his anger clear in his clenched jaw. “And right now I'm prepared to use it to save us all. I respect everyone’s beliefs; I myself was raised Catholic by very religious parents. But I have to agree with the vice president. God is all powerful and will get his message to us. But he would want us to act now for the survival of the human race.”
Diaz leaned over and pressed his hands to the table.
“Now, I would like your support on this—”
“So you’ve already made your decision, right, Martin?” Gordon said. “There’s no budget appropriation to vote on here. You just want our blessing.”
Diaz stood tall and stared down at Gordon. “Samuel, we’re about to change the fate of human history. I wanted your input on that.”
“Well, my input is we don’t do it. Or”—Gordon held up his finger for emphasis—“or we jump to a time period after the birth of Jesus. After the birth of Muhammad as well.”
Gordon gestured to Senator Abdallah, the only Muslim in the room.
“Perhaps toward the end of the Roman Empire. Then we just work harder to advance society forward. That should give us what? Fifteen hundred years or so to prepare for these aliens?”
“Given my calculations, it’s not enough time,” Claire said. “The Vorsh would still overwhelm us.”
Gordon glared at Claire. “Perhaps your data is incomplete for an accurate calculation,” he said coldly.
“Data is sufficient to within eighty-five point six percent accuracy,” Claire replied.
“Humph. That leaves fourteen point four percent to chance. Are you willing to bet everything on that, Mr. President?”
“If we fail and we lose this future war in this other timeline,” Congressman Lambert said. “we can always go back and do it again. We have a time machine, right?”
Jeff Madison, looking exhausted and every bit as frustrated as Paulson felt, held up his hand.
“Wait, wait, wait! It’s time to reveal something about myself, something only the president and vice president and a handful of others know. It’s a secret I’ve been carrying for four decades. But now is the time for the truth to come out.”
Paulson leaned back, crossed his arms, and nodded ever so slightly when Jeff met his gaze.
Jeff stared at everyone in the room, one person at a time, making sure he had their full attention.
“I am a time traveler.”
Stunned gasps echoed across the room.
“What the hell is this nonsense?” Gordon asked. “Martin, is this true?”
Diaz drew in a long whistle and then nodded.
“It is. We have confirmed it and have video and data from the senator’s timeline. We’ve been using that information all along in our preparations for the attack.”
Jeff leaned forward, drawing attention back to himself.
“I went back from the future forty-six years ago to prevent the extermination of the human race. In my timeline we didn’t make it through the first phase of the attack, the virus. Everyone I knew and loved died a horrible death, drowning in their own blood. I watched on the feeds as all of you were slaughtered in the House Chamber during the president’s State of the Union address. I saw President Diaz collapse with blood streaming from his face. I-I lost my first family . . . my two children.”
A tear slid down Jeff’s face, a rare event from the man.
Jeff slammed his hand down as he collected himself, pushing back his grief.
“And now it’s all happening again. The world is dying around us; we are being wiped out; my wife is out there. And now you’re dithering about not committing to our only hope. About taking a chance that if we fail we’ll just try it again. I’ll tell you this, distinguished ladies and gentlemen, I’ll be damned if I’ll watch the human race die a third time.”
Jeff’s gaze passed over everyone in the room, passion filling his eyes as he stared down any resistance. Diaz patted him on the shoulder.
“A vote is not necessary in this matter, but I think it’s the right thing to do,” Diaz said.
Diaz looked to his left.
“Mr. Vice President, how do you vote on the matter before us, a time jump twenty-three hundred and sixty-nine years into the past, with the mission goal of advancing civilization to the point where space flight can occur by the year thirty BC?”
“Yes,” Paulson said solemnly.
Diaz went around the table, with the final vote being much closer than Paulson would’ve expected—fourteen yes, eight no.
“It’s decided then. We’ll make final preparations to launch and should be ready within the next eight hours. Ladies and gentlemen, wish us luck.”
“So what happens after that?” Congressman Lambert asked.
The room was silent as the few scientists sitting against the wall on the outside of the table shuffled their feet and shifted nervously from side to side. None said a word.
Dr. Abe Conner cleared his throat. He’d been sitting quietly in the corner. Between his fingers he held the cross that lay around his neck. He spoke softly, not even lifting his head.
“Only God truly knows the answer to that question. Only God.”
One hour later
“We can’t let them do this,” Gordon said to the others.
They were in the small living room at his apartment, deep within the Chronos Two base. Small anti-surveillance pods were positioned on the four corners of the wall around them. No one could see or hear their conversation.
“What the hell can we do, Samuel? Fucking Diaz has already made his decision,” Lavar Winchell said.
“Lavar, you’re a Baptist minister; are you willing to let them prevent the birth of Jesus Christ, the man you’ve dedicated your life to?” Congresswoman Lenore Santiago asked.
Lavar looked away in frustration. “Of course not. But I have faith that God will show us the path.”
“And I have faith that God does not want man playing with his creation,” Gordon said.
Gordon had gathered this small group together after the larger joint intelligence meeting had broken up. He knew this group felt the same way he did about the operation. Going back so far in time would wipe out their entire faith, would do what Satan had been unable to do, to prevent the birth and resurrection of the Lord. He would not allow it.
“It’s blasphemy to play with time like this,” Abdallah said. “It goes against everything I believe as a Muslim.”
“We have to find a way to stop them.” Gordon balled up his fist to emphasize his point.
“There’s no way to sabotage the mission at this point, if that’s what you’re thinking,” said a man slowly and softly from the corner.
Gordon had seen him around the base, had heard him speak at the intelligence meeting, but he didn’t know his name. He was nervous about having a stranger with them; they were, after all, talking about committing treason, not just against the U.S. government but against the entire world. However, Lenore had convinced him that in order for them to further their cause, they needed someone on the inside of the Chronos team. And she said this was their man.
“And how do you know about the mission? Care to give us your name, stranger?”
“I think it’s best for everyone that I remain anonymous. If this plan fails, I’d rather keep my distance from this group so my effectiveness for a future action is not jeopardized. The less you know about me, the better.”
“Mr. X here”—Lenore jumped in to defend her confidant—“has significant knowledge about the time machine and how we can stop it.”
“We only have about six hours before they launch,” the man said, unfazed by Gordon’s distrust. “Security is absurdly tight everywhere. There’s not enough time to gather enough munitions and get them close enough to destroy the reactor for good.”
“No, a direct attack would never work,” Gordon said. “Is there a way to shut the device down? Delay it somehow?”
“Delay it for what?” Lavar asked. “They’re going to launch at some point, then it’s all over. We cease to exist, as do our religions.”
Mr. X got up from the couch and began pacing.
“Perhaps there’s another way. I have an idea . . . ”
He presented a plan that seemed plausible. Gordon thought it over, looking for holes.
“We don’t have much time,” he finally said. If we’re going to do this, we need to begin now, and it will mean the full commitment of everyone here. Your hands will get dirty.”
Gordon stared everyone in the eye as intensely as he could. Once they went down this path, there would be no turning back. He needed everyone strong.
“Are you willing to die for your beliefs, for Christ, for Muhammad, for God?”
Everyone nodded, but Gordon wanted a verbal agreement. One by one, they said yes.
“Very well then. What assets do we have to put into play?”
“I have friends working security for the base,” Lenore said. “Let me call in a few favors and get us the window of opportunity we need.”
“And I know some of the military brass who will support our cause,” Winchell added. “Several attend my church.”
“Great, thank you both—we’ll need all the help we can get to pull this off,” Gordon said. “Before we discuss the details of everyone’s role, I think we should bow our heads and say a prayer together. Raashid, you’re certainly welcome to join us.”
Senator Abdallah smiled and bowed his head in respect.
Gordon began the prayer, and the others joined in, some closing their eyes, others joining hands.
“Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name . . . ”
Chapter 36
1:00 p.m. EST, January 16, 2038
Boston Logan International Airport
Holly leaned forward in her seat and watched through the front cockpit window as the gap in the sky in front of them slowly closed. Mattie struggled with the plane’s controls, jerking them from side to side. The giant tendrils of the alien ship dropped down around them. They were throbbing white shoots or branches, with smaller vines writhing like snakes coming off the main roots.
The plane swerved.
“Hang on!” Mattie screamed.
The plane turned completely on its side, bumping the tendrils. Holly held on to her arm rests as tight as she could as the plane shook violently. A FedEx transport plane was definitely not meant for that kind of maneuver.
In front of them, the gap of blue sky slowly closed, leaving only white alien tendrils.
The plane dropped, still on its side. Down it went, faster and faster, with the ground rushing up toward them.
Holly’s stomach jumped into her throat as her body went weightless.
Alarms blared from the cockpit as the plane plunged.
Mattie yanked the throttle back, and the plane began to right itself and slow its descent. Out in front, the ground spread out before them. Just above it was a slit of open sky, a narrow gap below the edge of the tendrils.
The plane shot toward the gap. With an unholy screeeeech, they clipped the end of one of the tendrils and it scraped across the roof, sounding as if it were ripping the whole thing off. Somehow they managed to stay in the air.
They’d made it!
Mattie looked back at them, his face pale and sweaty. “You all still there?”
Chen grunted, hands at throat and stomach, and Dr. Corvin simply waved his hand, his face white.
“I’ll try to avoid giant alien ships for the rest of our trip. Sit back and get some rest, everyone. We’ve got about twelve hours before we get to Baghdad.”
Holly put her head back and took a deep breath. She reached up and touched the bandage covering her eye socket. The whole area was still sore, despite all the painkillers. But she was alive. Damn it, the aliens could take her arm and her eye, but she would keep fighting them, keep fighting to live.
She touched the back of her ear, trying to bring up a com-line to Jeff, but there was nothing. The secure military line was now gone. She didn’t know what that meant, but could only hope for the best. If the second Chronos base had been compromised, there would be no safe haven, nowhere for them to go. She needed something to take her mind off her worries. Then she remembered the bear recon unit they’d risked their lives to retrieve.
“Mattie, where is the teddy bear?”
“In my pack, in the storage area behind my seat.”
Holly unbuckled her seat belt, grabbed the bag, and brought it back to her seat. As soon as she pulled the bear out, it sprang to life, scanning her face.
“Subject identified: Dr. Holly Scarborough. What can I do for you, ma’am?”
“I want to see information on the aliens. Let’s start with their home world.”
“Unable to properly link with optic nerve.”
“Holo display is fine.”
Apparently Holly’s internal optic viewing would be limited with just the one eye. A holo display was good though, as she was sure Chen and Corvin would want to see this as well.
“Displaying data.”
Laser lights flowed out of the bear’s eyes, and an image of a planet came into view, floating in front of her. The planet was similar to Earth, with its land masses and oceans, but it was tinged in green instead of blue. Orbiting it was a giant structure that looked like a space station. Several alien ships of the same design as the ones orbiting Earth were in various stages of construction around the space station.
The holo zoomed in on the planet, revealing giant tree-like structures surrounded by vast cities. Roots spread from the trees under the cities, pulsing red, like blood pumping through veins.
“What are those?” Chen asked as he watched from his seat across from her.
“Unable to interpret language and number data,” the bear said.
“We’ll need a supercomputer for that,” Darren said. “Trying to decipher an alien language is a daunting task.”
“Continue displaying data,” Holly said. “Provide interpretation if possible.”
The video zoomed in closer, revealing streets and ground as well as air transport.
“Those tree things could be power sources,” Chen said, pointing at the spreading roots.
“Or a food source,” Darren said.
“Or both,” Holly added. “Plus those tree-city things look remarkably like what just landed on our heads back there.”
“Let’s see what our invaders look like,” Chen said.
The view immediately switched from the planet to a creature. They all jumped back as soon as it appeared floating above them. Holly sat up in her chair and slid forward for a closer look.
She was surprised at the alien’s centaur-like appearance. She’d been expecting something more insectoid or reptilian. But that was just her preconceived notion of what an evil alien should look like.
“It looks strong,” Darren said.
The image rotated in front of them.
“Let’s see where else these things have spread,” Chen said.
The holo flashed back to the planet, then zoomed out again, revealing a star chart. Thousands of tiny stars and planets came into focus. Holly didn’t know what the notes on each represented; they looked like lines and scratches to her.
“Do you think that the star systems that are slightly brighter are ones that have been colonized?” Darren asked.
“Colonized or just explored maybe?” Holly said.
If that was the case, then the aliens had colonized or explored hundreds of planets.
Chen pointed to a random planet not far from the alien home world. “Zoom in on that one.”
It was immediately enlarged in the holo. This brown planet looked rocky and barren for the most part, with only small pockets of blue water.
“Zoom again.”
Down on the planet they could see tall rods reaching high into the sky and turning like a drills, processing the soil beneath them. Shooting out from their tops were plumes of smoke or gas. There were thousands all over the surface of the rocky world. Above each, a storm cloud had formed and rain was falling. Streams sprang up around each of the great rods and water flowed into small lakes all over the planet.
“Terraforming,” Darren said in awe.
“It appears so,” Chen responded. “They’re turning that barren world into one with water and an atmosphere that can support life.”
“Amazing,” Holly said, eyes wide. “Let’s look at another.”
They spent the next several hours going through and reviewing dozens of different planets. Some were lifeless rocks being terraformed; others were full of life and ready to be colonized. Still others were already covered by the Vorsh and their tree cities.
A few planets supported intelligent life. When the aliens arrived at these, they wiped out the dominant intelligent species. They used the same method each time: spray the planet with an engineered virus, killing off almost all intelligent life, then mop up the last few survivors using nanoswarms. They would invariably keep a few of the poor creatures as pets or slaves if they found them interesting enough.
Holly and the others watched future Earth from the perspective of poor little Alyssa. Humans were no exception. They would be subject to the same cruelties inflicted on the other alien species. The Vorsh would show no mercy. They wanted to expand their empire as fast and as far as they could, and humanity was not going to stand in their way.
Finally they’d all had enough; it was time to rest. They were still about five hours out from Baghdad. Holly placed her head against the window and slowly closed her eye. Just as she did so, she thought she saw something move above her, just outside the window.
Part of the plane? Perhaps the roof had been damaged when they hit that tendril.
“Uh, Mattie? Is there a way to see onto the roof of the plane?” He turned back, brow furrowed quizzically .
“Why would you want to do that?”
“It looks like some piping or something is loose. It’s hitting the top of the window.”
“There should be an in-air repair bot that comes equipped with a camera,” Mattie said.
He shuffled his hands over the control panel, and a video image of the underside of the plane showed up above the panel. The camera spun around and moved forward. A minute later Holly saw the small crab-like repair bot skitter across the front of the plane. It had tiny suction cups on its six legs, holding it firmly in place as it scurried over the surface of the plane.
The video switched to a view of the roof.
No, no, no.
Sitting on top of the plane was a huge white tentacled mass. It looked like it was growing out of a scrape down the middle of the roof. It was the same root-like material that had hung from the bottom of the alien craft. The tentacles were moving like snakes as the wind from the plane whipped them back.
The repair bot got closer, and Holly could see a red glow pulsing ever so slightly, deep inside the tendrils. One tendril suddenly shot out and grabbed the bot. The camera went dark.
Mattie turned around.
“What are we going to do, Mattie? That thing looks like it’s trying to burrow its way inside.”
Mattie shrugged, apparently becoming desensitized to life threatening situations.“Got any weed killer?”
Chapter 37
2:30 a.m. Local Time, January 17, 2038
Chronos Two, Hillah, Iraq
Jeff couldn’t sleep.
He lay tossing and turning in bed, wondering what the next few hours would hold for him and the rest of the world. And still he yearned for Holly. Where was she? Had those alien creatures already killed her?
There’d been no contact with her or any of the others for hours. Even the secure military lines buried deep underground no longer worked. Perhaps those cities with roots that were landing all over the planet had burrowed so deep that they destroyed the lines.
Imagining his wife dead was tearing him up, eating away at his inside like a cancer. All those years to prepare and still they were swept away like insects by cruel creatures from the stars.
He should’ve seen it coming. The signs were all there. He should’ve known that no humans could’ve made those nanobots or the techno-organic virus. Plus the virus had come to them from space.
Jeff slapped himself on the cheek in anger.
“Idiot!”
Now they were left with a choice that would end in oblivion for him and all those left behind in this time. He wouldn’t be time jumping this trip. An old business tycoon turned politician had no place on a world-saving mission. Now he was left wondering what would happen to him, just like the warriors of old who left their fates in the hands of younger men.
He and Holly had had enough discussions about time travel and paradoxes over the years for him to have a pretty good understanding of what it all meant. With such a massive change to the historical timeline, the chances were infinitesimally small for him to still exist as he was now. If he did have a soul, perhaps that would move into another person, a woman or perhaps even an animal.
He laughed out loud at the thought of coming back as someone’s dog. But then he got tired of beating himself up over these issues and climbed out of bed. There was no point in trying to sleep anymore—it just wasn’t going to happen. His best bet was to pace the hallways until launch time in—he pulled up his countdown clock—one hour fourteen minutes.
He quickly put on fresh clothes and headed out the door. A few lights were still on in this area of the complex, most likely other members of the Intelligence Committee who were having trouble sleeping, pondering their fates or perhaps just spending time with their families.
He decided his first stop would be the holding center. He needed to speak to Howard Nichols, the man who used time travel to make millions gambling. They were also investigating him for possible ties to the bombing of Chronos One, although Jeff thought it was quite a stretch to go from sending sports scores back in time to yourself to sending a nuclear bomb. Yet people did desperate things for money every day, and if Howard was truly greedy enough, he may have tried to cover his tracks with the bomb. Jeff knew Howard was being interrogated, but he wanted to see for himself if this man truly was capable of such an act.
It was a short walk to the building that served as a jail. It was heavily guarded, but Jeff had no trouble getting through with his credentials. Inside, a dozen holding cells stretched down a long hallway. All were empty but the one at the end where they were keeping Howard. A single guard stood out front.
“I wasn’t made aware of this visit, Senator.” The guard grunted as he looked at Jeff’s ID.
“I just want five minutes, that’s it.”
“I’m sorry, sir. No unauthorized personnel, including senators.”
Howard apparently heard or saw someone at the door and approached. He stood behind the glass window. His face was bruised, and it looked like the interrogations had already begun. He pounded his fist on the door and screamed. Jeff could barely make out a muffled cry for help through the thick glass.
“Get me out of here! They’ve got the wrong man!”
Howard looked truly desperate.
Jeff wondered how much of his posturing was a ruse.
“Do I need to authorize this with the vice president?” Jeff asked the soldier. “You know he doesn’t like to be bothered with trivial details. I just need to ask the prisoner a couple of questions. You can stand right here while I talk to him through the glass. Besides, everything’s being recorded anyway.” Jeff pointed to the camera positioned over the door.
The young soldier grumbled.
“Very well, sir. No need to get the vice president involved.”
The soldier slid open a small panel at eye level so Jeff and Howard could see and hear each other.
“I understand you’ve come into a small fortune over the last week, Doctor. What, we’re not paying you enough?”
Howard looked flustered and blubbered out, “No, no, you’ve got it all wrong. I didn’t do any of that. It was only research data that I sent back. I have no idea where that other information came from.”
Jeff rolled his eyes. Howard was not a very good liar.
“So the fact that you were able to pick every winning NBA game, NFL game, and horse race over the last week was what, just luck?”
Howard managed a slight smile.
“Not luck. I’ve been working on a new predictive algorithm. And it finally worked! That was the secret to my success. Not illegally sending future information back to myself. I would never risk my life and career for such nonsense.”
Jeff grunted. “The investigators think differently.”
“Investigations based on faulty data from the Chronos mainframe. Data that could’ve been manipulated. I’ve been set up, Senator. You have to believe me.”
Jeff frowned again. He found it very unlikely that somebody went to such lengths to implicate Howard.
“And the bomb?”
Howard held his hands up, indicating shock and denial, and stepped back.
“I had absolutely nothing to do with that. I told the same thing to that first man who came in here interrogating me. I was gone from the base before the bomb came through and knew nothing about it before that. You have to believe me. I lost friends and colleagues at the base. I worked there for over twelve years. Jesus Christ, the project was my life!”
Howard made a convincing case, and Jeff had no way of knowing if he was telling the truth or not.
“The investigators will get to the bottom of this, Howard. I just wanted to see for myself what you had to say.”
Jeff turned to walk away, and Howard reached through the slot and grabbed his arm.
“Please, I’m begging you, Senator. There’s something coming; I can feel it. I don’t want to be left in here when it arrives.”
Howard’s eyes were wide and full of terror. Jeff yanked his arm away, and Howard’s fingernails cut into his skin, leaving bloody trails. The guard stepped up and slapped Howard’s hand, which he quickly withdrew back into the cell. The guard slammed the panel shut.
“Same bullshit he said to the investigator,” the guard mumbled.
Jeff strode away as Howard pounded on the glass again, pleading for help. Jeff rubbed his forearm where the fingernail cuts were already starting to burn. And he wondered just what the hell Howard could feel coming their way.
After his disturbing conversation with Howard, Jeff headed over to launch headquarters. Getting there early would give him a front row seat for the jump. He grabbed a late night snack—banana chips—from a vending machine in the hallway. Holly would not have approved.
God, he missed plain old potato chips. Despite all the health advances, the government’s war on obesity and fatty foods left him feeling like a child whose mother was slapping his hand for eating too many cookies.
He was almost at the command center, carelessly chewing on a dry banana, when he heard the explosion. It was followed by a series of percussive booms.
Shit, they were under attack again!
Jeff pressed against the wall as guards ran past him in a panic, guns in hand, going toward the explosion in another section of the base.
An alarm sounded.
He continued moving forward, realizing now that despite the security and remoteness of the base, they weren’t safe here. They weren’t safe anywhere. Not only did they have to contend with alien invaders, but also saboteurs among themselves. But as long as the vortex generator remained in place, they had a chance.
Eventually he made it to the entrance to the command center building and showed his face to the guard, who quickly scanned it. A two-legged mech unit over twelve-feet tall stood poised behind him, heavy cannons ready to plow down intruders.
“Any ideas on what the hell that explosion was?” Jeff asked.
“No, Senator Madison, but we’ve posted extra guards here. No one is getting in without authorization.”
Jeff entered the building and found a dozen extra security guards waiting on high alert, fingers on the triggers of their guns. They all looked nervous, and Jeff was thankful none mistook him for an intruder. He walked past them to the elevator and pushed the button to go to the third floor. As he waited for the doors to open, he heard yelling from outside the command center.
He turned just in time to see an explosion rock the building. The entranceway shattered, and shards of glass and metal flew inside like needles, scattering all over the floor.
Jeff’s heart raced as he shielded his eyes and face from the flying projectiles.
“Shit, I’m a Senator, not a goddamn soldier,” he said under his breath.
Smoke billowed out from the guard post, and sparks flew from the side of the mech unit. The soldiers inside struggled to get to their feet and ready to face whatever was coming at them. The mech unit wobbled for a moment and then swiveled toward the building’s entrance before walking forward menacingly.
The elevator dinged and the doors opened just as the mech unit fired toward the soldiers. Jeff dove inside as bullets sprayed the lobby. Everyone on the first floor cried out as they were mowed down under the firepower of the rogue mech unit.
Jeff struggled to his knees and reached up to press the button for the third floor, his fingers shaking as the doors closed, leaving the death and destruction behind. Leaning back with his head against the wall, he tried to catch his breath.
“Shit, definitely not a soldier.”
When the elevator doors opened, Jeff found himself in the middle of another scene of chaos. Men were running down the hallway, and several smaller, faster mech units were heading toward the stairwell and down to the first floor to meet the attackers.
Jeff couldn't believe they were under attack. How could someone get through security? Was it the aliens or an inside job? His stomach turned to think they may have a traitor in their midst, possible the same person that blew up Chronos One. And the rogue mech unit was a devastating weapon to have at their disposal. Jeff wondered what else had been compromised.
He exited the elevator, dodging a speedy mech, and turned toward the glass-enclosed vortex area in the center of the building.
Was the vortex already open?
Running to the window to get a closer look, he pushed his forehead and hands against the cold glass. Sure enough, a black void sat in the middle of the giant doughnut. Surrounding it were rows of trucks and equipment ready to be sent back in time. In the center of it all, moving along a track, were a dozen or so men, heavily armed, dressed in black combat armor, surrounding a truck loaded with gear. More masked men were in the vehicle, firing their weapons in all directions as the truck drove up a ramp and into the vortex.
The truck disappeared, along with all but one of the men. The last man pulled something from his pocket and tossed it into the room before jumping through the vortex himself.
The metal object rolled across the floor.
It all happened so fast.
Jeff turned and dove away from the window as the grenade exploded, shaking the entire building from the concussive blast. That was the second time he’d dived for cover in the last five minutes, which was more than he’d done in the last twenty years. His elbows and knees were killing him from where they’d hit the hard floor. Slowly he climbed to his feet to assess the damage. Incredibly, the window to the vortex chamber had only cracked instead of shattering.
Down below it was a different story, a scene of total devastation. The vortex doughnut was smoking, and a big, black chunk, had been blasted out of its side, as if a giant had taken a bite out of it. Other pieces of equipment, vehicles, and supplies had also been destroyed.
How could this happen? All the security, all the planning, and still terrorists were able to get inside the base and attack it. He pressed his hand to his forehead, feeling like running out into the desert again to escape all the madness.
Yet he knew running was no answer.
He was still dazed from the attack but managed to pull himself away from the scene just as a flood of military personnel burst out onto the floor of the vortex room. He headed straight toward the command center, passing more scientists and soldiers, all with frightened looks on their faces. After moving through another security checkpoint, he entered the room. More chaos swirled around him. Through the flurry of people he managed to find Vice President Paulson.
“Buddy, what the hell happened?”
“God damned fucking terrorists. We’re still trying to figure that out.” Paulson pounded a fist into the wall, showing rare anger. “They set off an explosion in another part of the base, an obvious diversion, so I strengthened security here, calling up another team. But it looks like the terrorists were embedded with those additional men. They hacked the mech unit and used it against us at the front of the building, then went after the vortex. They were masked so we have no idea who they were or when they jumped to.”
President Diaz came storming around the corner, red eyed and drowsy.
“What the fuck, Buddy?”
Paulson quickly briefed the president.
"God damn it! All the security around here and this still happens!"
Diaz was furious.
"We'll get those mother fuckers," Paulson growled.
"Can the computer system identify who jumped?" Diaz asked.
"We can track who is on base and who isn't," Paulson responded. "Let me check now."
Paulson tapped the back of his ear and spoke to someone, then rolled his eyes.
"Shit! The computer engineers tell me the tracking feature of the system has been sabotaged and will take some time to piece back together."
Jeff knew this attack had to be an inside job. It was too well coordinated and struck at too many systems.
"Well then, how about a quick roll call? We need to find out who is behind this act of treason Buddy, and we need to find out now!"
Diaz stormed around the room, hands flailing.
"We can do that, Mr. President, but again it will take some time."
“Well, let's get on it then. I can’t believe this,” Diaz said, scrutinizing the destruction. “Lock this base down. Lock everything down! I want—”
At the same time, he and Paulson touched the back of their ears.
“Jesus fucking Christ. What the hell now?” Paulson said, stomping a few feet away. Moments later he said, “Something’s happening outside. We need to go to the briefing room. Jeff, come on.”
They left the chaos of the command center behind. Down in the vortex room, thick black smoke was still billowing up from the floor. In the briefing room they found Secretary of Defense Calhoun with a few of his advisors.
“Mr. President, Mr. Vice President, Senator.” Calhoun nodded, then waved his hand to pull up a holo showing a radar sweep of the land above the base.
“Long-range sensors picked this up just after the vortex was generated and the saboteurs jumped.”
A purple cloud came into view, moving like a tidal wave over the landscape.
“A swarm,” Jeff said. “It must’ve detected the time jump.”
“It’ll be here within the hour,” Calhoun told them. “Then there’s this.”
The radar view from the holo swiveled, and just behind the massive swarm cloud were a collection of smaller dots moving slower in the same direction.
“And those?” Diaz asked.
“They would be the singularity-generating man o’ wars.”
They solemnly watched the advancing alien forces. There was little they could do to defend themselves.
“They’ve found us,” Jeff whispered quietly.
Paulson nodded and said, “And now they’re coming to wipe us out.”
Chapter 38
3:00 a.m. Local Time, January 17, 2038
Flying over Baghdad, Iraq
The plane shuddered once again as Mattie tried to keep it level. He was amazed they’d made it this far with that horrible thing growing on top. Apparently alien plant tendrils weren’t used to six-hundred-mile-per-hour winds slamming into them, which seemed to slow their growth. Still, the thing had managed to breach the roof in several places and was creeping along the inside of the plane, growing larger.
Mattie checked on his passengers. Holly and Drs. Chen and Corvin had moved up as close to the front of the plane as they could without actually sitting in the cockpit. Occasionally they cast furtive glances toward the back of the plane at the growing alien tendrils moving above them.
“Not much farther now,” Mattie called out. “We’re coming up on Baghdad, and Hillah’s just to the south.”
The plane shook again. This time the oxygen masks fell from the ceiling and the lights flickered. Mattie glanced back again. One of the tendrils touched a light fixture. Suddenly it began to pulse and glow deep red. Then the entire mass started to writhe and twist, growing even faster. Tendrils snaked down from the ceiling onto the walls.
The plane creaked, and Mattie noticed slight cracks forming along the inside of the cockpit. A quick check of the wings told him the alien mass would completely cover those very soon. Then he would have no control over the plane.
“I’ve got to set her down,” he yelled out. “We haven’t much time. I’m trying to get us as close to the base as I can.”
He began a slow descent.
“We are two hundred miles out from the landing strip. I advise holding on the descent,” the AI chimed in.
“In case you haven’t noticed, you have a tumor growing on your back. I think we need to get down right away.”
“Agreed. Structural integrity is at eighty-five percent and declining. Emergency landing recommended.”
“No shit.”
Clouds rose above them as the plane descended. It was night and there should be lights on the ground below, but all was dark and empty. According to the map there was an interstate highway running south from Baghdad to Hillah. Mattie hoped it was empty, because they’d be coming in hard.
The plane shook again and a wrenching sound from the roof indicated that pieces of the hull were peeling off. Mattie dove faster as red, glowing tendrils crept into the cockpit and quivered on the front window.
“Hang on!” he yelled as he pushed the yoke forward, increasing the plane’s descent.
Radar scans of the ground indicated a few cars and trucks parked, abandoned, alongside the road. He plotted a course for a long stretch of empty highway, trying to adjust their angle. The plane didn’t respond.
“Rear rudder locked,” the AI said. “Foreign substance preventing movement.”
“Shit. I guess this is as good as it’s going to get.”
“Touch down in thirty-five seconds.”
The seconds ticked away as the road flew up at them faster and faster. Mattie leveled the plane out, slowing their descent, yet was still unable to control the aircraft’s tilt.
He held the shaking yoke as best he could until he felt one of the wheels hitting the road with a powerful thump. But the angle was off slightly, and the other wheel never touched. The plane dipped to the side and the left wing hit the ground.
Sparks flew as metal ground along the asphalt. Then the plane twisted and spun along the axis of the wing, veering off the road. Mattie applied the right brake, trying to stabilize the skid, but still the plane careened into the desert. He was jerked to the side, straining against his harness.
The plane twisted again, still going too fast to stop, this time hitting rocks and rolling forward onto the right wing. The wing couldn’t stand the pressure and snapped, the sound of wrenching metal reverberating through the cockpit.
Then the plane flipped, once, twice. Anything not bolted or buckled down went flying. Mattie felt like he was inside a washing machine as he flipped around in all directions, seat belt cutting into him and straining his body.
Finally the rolling stopped and the plane came to a rest, its wings destroyed and debris everywhere he could see. Mattie hung upside down, suspended by his harness.
He was still alive.
He tested his body to make sure nothing was broken. Then he dropped down and started making his way back to the others. The main compartment was intact, but unfamiliar in its inverted position.
“Anyone hurt?” Mattie called out, pushing debris aside.
“Ahh, I’m okay.”
That was Corvin.
“Me too.”
Holly.
“Still alive and ready to get eaten by an alien swarm,” Chen quipped.
“Let’s get out of here before this thing catches fire,” Mattie said as he moved back into the main section of the plane.
“Or before we attract the attention of something else,” Holly added.
Mattie helped each of them get free. Aside from a few new bumps, everyone was okay. They made for the side of the plane, where Mattie held the door open. Tendrils were still creeping down over the door, and they all were careful not to touch them as they made their way out and hopped to the ground.
They were already a safe distance from the wreckage when a small fire sparked and what was left of the cargo plane began to burn. In the light of the fire, Mattie could see the giant mass now under the plane, clutching the fuselage like a bulbous tumor. It seemed to like the fire and its vines crept ever closer to it, still pulsing red. He wondered what Boston looked like now with the giant tree taking root there.
Mattie tapped his eye and brought up a map, a grid overlay of the land before them. The road was about a hundred yards away. If they followed that, it was pretty much a straight shot to the coordinates Paulson had sent him. They were only about five miles away and should be able to cover the flat ground fairly quickly, even with Mattie helping Chen on his still recovering leg.
“We’ve got a little bit of a hike ahead of us,” Mattie said. “I can run forward and get vehicles and come back for you or we can go together.”
Mattie could cover the distance in about eight minutes at full speed, but that would mean leaving the others out on the open road, unprotected.
“You go ahead, Mattie, we’ll be fine,” Holly, always strong, said.
He considered the idea for a second. There were no swarms around, but leaving them alone for a half hour or so was too risky. No, he would stay and protect them.
He grabbed Chen around the waist to help him walk.
“Let’s go together.”
“I’m fine, Colonel,” Chen grumbled.
“I’ve made up my mind, let’s move,” Mattie said firmly.
They began fast-walking along the road. The remote area was dead quiet with only the stars and the moon lighting their way. He imagined others travelers from ancient history walking this same route to the once great city of Babylon. The vast future of mankind had lain before those people. Now the age of man was quickly dwindling into a memory.
About twenty minutes into their walk, a convoy of vehicles appeared on the horizon driving at high speed away from the base. Mattie pulled out his flashlight and signaled for them to stop.
Seconds later the convoy of six large vehicles rolled by, not even slowing down, much less stopping. The last vehicle in the group however did slow and pulled up beside them. A window rolled down.
“What are you doing out here, Colonel?”
The man looked like Secret Service and held a gun trained on Mattie. Three others in the back seat, behind tinted glass, had weapons ready as well.
“We’re trying to get to the base for safe haven. I’m under direct orders from the president and vice president to bring these important scientists in. My clearance and order code.”
Mattie raised his palm to the agent’s eye so he could read the orders on his visual cortex. The agent blinked his way through the orders and nodded. He relaxed somewhat, but still held his weapon up and ready.
“Everything checks out, Colonel, but the status has changed since your last contact. There’s no safe haven at Chronos Two anymore. The base will be under attack shortly. They’re preparing a last defense to keep the aliens at bay as long as they can. We’ve been instructed to take key members of the government to a safe house outside of Baghdad.”
So they were retreating. It wasn’t like they had much choice. Mattie had felt the clamor of the alien communications growing in his head. They would have no chance against the huge swarm cloud that was coming.
“Who’s in this group, the president, the vice president?”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss the details, Colonel.” A look of indecision crossed the agent’s face. “I’ll tell you this, though. Vice President Paulson is a great man. He wanted to stay and fight to the end. That old warrior is not going to go out hiding. He’s going out fighting, with a gun in his hand. I wish I was there with him. Maybe even kill one of those alien motherfuckers myself.”
Mattie knew there was no chance of that happening. They had no weapons that could stop the aliens’ technology. Paulson would die with the others who stayed behind. But Mattie could at least help, could hold off the swarm for a time. Those precious few moments could make a difference.
A man in the passenger side of the vehicle leaned over and whispered in the driver’s ear.
“We need to move out, Colonel. I’ve received permission to take you and the others with us to the safe house.”
Mattie sought input from Holly, Chen, and Corvin, who were standing right behind him, listening. Holly’s face was wet with tears.
“Is Senator Madison in your group?” she asked.
“No, ma’am. He chose to remain behind as well.”
“Then I’m going to the base,” she said firmly.
“I want to see this Chronos Two,” Chen added. “I want to see how many of my ideas they stole.”
Dr. Corvin looked at the others and shrugged. “I’ve come this far with you guys, I’m not going to abandon you now. Besides, you’ll need someone to set up the temporal bubble.”
“Let’s go, then,” Mattie said. “We haven’t got a lot of time.”
He turned back to the agent.
“I don’t suppose you would give us a lift back to the base?”
“I’m sorry, Colonel. I'm already too far behind the main group. We need to go now, but I can give you this.”
The agent punched a button on the vehicle, and the top panel slid back to reveal a compacted motorbike.
“It’s got two sidecars, so all four of you can ride. Good luck.”
The agent extended his hand, and Mattie shook it. Both men looked each other firmly in the eye, knowing they would never see the other again and that very soon one or both would be dead.
Mattie quickly pulled the bike off the roof. Then the vehicle sped away. On the ground, the bike booted up and began auto-assembling. In seconds it was fully functional.
Chen and Corvin sat in the side compartments, with Mattie in the driver’s seat, and Holly hanging on to his waist right behind him. Mattie twisted the throttle into gear and they zoomed off toward the base.
It wasn’t long before they were at the right coordinates, but there was nothing visible except for an empty airplane hangar. In the center of the hangar was a metal post with a box attached to it, like an old-fashioned mailbox. Mattie climbed off the bike, the others following, and jogged over to the post.
Everyone looked exhausted, covered in dirt and grime from the plane crash and journey. Mattie tried to rub some of the desert grit out of his eyes but just seemed to add more. His stomach rumbled. He couldn't remember the last time he ate, and despite having incredible healing abilities he still needed to eat and sleep like anyone else. He imagined the others were starving as well. For now, though, he put these thoughts behind him. They were in a combat situation.
Mattie began sensing a tug in the back of his mind, the same tingling and pulling he got when the swarm was nearby. But this felt more like a distant echo than a direct pull. It was growing, however, and getting louder.
He scanned the horizon, looking for signs of an attack. Then he switched to infrared telescopic vision, a nice little military upgrade to his optical nerve, courtesy of Uncle Sam. Still nothing. Whatever it was, it was headed this way, and it must be very big for Mattie to be able to sense it this far out and yet not be able to see it.
“Is this the right spot?” Holly asked.
A green light shot out from the post and quickly scanned Mattie.
“Palm entry required,” said the security AI.
Mattie placed his palm on the box. A second later the floor around them jerked and began descending. Down they went, deeper and deeper until they finally jolted to a stop. The doors opened to a chaotic scene of military personnel getting ready for battle.
Mech units were clomping back and forth, swiveling from side to side. Men were checking their rifles one last time, tanks were lined up, and hover drones and other automated units were buzzing or walking around. And it was all happening deep underground in a cave far vaster than Chronos One.
A captain approached Mattie and saluted, then studied Holly’s patched eye and their torn and bloody clothing. “It looks like you guys have been through hell, Colonel.”
“It’s been a fight to get here, that’s for sure,” Mattie said. “You ready for this?”
“As ready as we’ll ever be.”
The captain lifted his face toward the cave’s ceiling. “For a last stand we’re going to kick some fucking alien ass. How’s it look up there, by the way? Any sign of the bastards?”
“I couldn’t see them yet, but I have a feeling they’re coming.”
“Let those motherfuckers come!” yelled out another soldier. “I got something for ’em right here.”
He held up his six-foot-long heavy artillery weapon with the help of his enhanced battle suit.
“The vice president is waiting for you, Colonel. Just take the train to the command center. We’ve got to get outside now.”
The captain saluted, and Mattie returned it. Then the captain jumped on the large service elevator platform, joining several mech units and other soldiers. The door shut behind them.
Mattie knew they would fight to the last man.
“Come on,” he said to the others. “Let’s find out what’s going on.”
He was shocked at the massive scale of the underground base. They must’ve been planning to hide out here for a long time, with thousands of people. There were factories and stores and food production areas, everything needed to keep society going.
But now the swarm and the singularity weapons were coming.
And all of it would be wiped out.
They arrived at the command center without any more stops. Paulson was waiting for them at the main entrance, as were Jeff Madison and Paulson’s assistant, Melinda Rider, whom Mattie knew all too well. Claire hovered in the background, ever present.
“Oh, Jeff!”
“Holly! Thank God!”
The two ran to each other and embraced, kissing passionately. Mattie smiled. They were old and had been together a long time, but their love had never faded. He was jealous. He’d never felt that way for any of the women who’d passed through his life. Except maybe one.
Melinda purposely avoided looking at him. She hadn’t taken their breakup well and hadn’t said a word to him in the year since. They had their chance, and Mattie blew it. Now there wouldn’t be another.
“Great work, Colonel.”
Paulson embraced him and shook the others’ hands. “Come with me,” Paulson said to Mattie. “I’ll brief you on the way inside.”
The outer checkpoint was smoking, and repair drones were cleaning up debris. A hulking mech unit lay in ruins.
“Looks like a war zone here,” Mattie said. “What happened?”
“We were attacked less than an hour ago by a renegade group. They managed to breach security and get inside the vortex chamber.”
They walked through the lobby and up to a large cracked glass pane that ran up the inside of the building. Inside was a vast stadium housing the time travel vortex generator. Dozens of technicians and repair bots swarmed around the device. Paulson nodded at it as they waited for the elevator.
“The group was able to time jump through the vortex. They left behind a plasma grenade which damaged the generator and much of the surrounding equipment. The jump was also picked up by the aliens, who are now sending a full assault against us. We have maybe thirty minutes before they’re here.”
That explained the growing headache deep in Mattie’s skull.
“And the vortex generator? Can it be repaired in time?” Chen asked.
Paulson frowned. “We’re working as fast as we can.”
“You were preparing for a long jump, we’re you?” Holly asked.
“Two thousand three hundred and sixty-eight years.”
“Jesus,” Holly said, clearly shocked. Jeff immediately began whispering details of the plan in her ear. Chen and Corvin exchanged wide-eyed stares.
"This is just amazing," Holly said, eyebrows raised and mouth open as she looked around at all of the equipment and the vortex generator. "The size and scale of this operation is beyond anything I imagined."
"I must say Paulson, this is indeed impressive," Chen added, giving a rare compliment. "Your foresight to build such a base and temporal generator is truly astounding."
"Thank you," Paulson replied. "It's been a tremendous amount of work without a doubt. I just hope it's all been worth it."
As they walked into the command center, Paulson quickly explained their jump strategy and the goals they’d set. It all made logical sense, Mattie thought. Now if they could just get the chance to execute the plan.
“With the attack, however, the plan has changed,” Paulson continued. “We’ve had to scale back the jump in terms of personnel and equipment based on our limited fuel resources. Plus we don’t know if the generator will even work after the damage it sustained.”
“I can help with the repairs,” Chen jumped in. “I know that machine better than anyone. After all, you copied my designs to build it.”
“I can help too,” Dr. Corvin said eagerly.
Holly tapped Corvin’s arm.
“Darren, you should begin setting up the singularity bubble generator. If we’re able to make this long jump, then I for one don’t want to blink out of existence.”
“Agreed.”
Chen headed out to the floor of the vortex chamber, and Corvin begin explaining what the bubble generator was and what he needed to get it working.
“Will a tank suffice as a containment shield?” Paulson asked. He’d understood the generator’s purpose immediately.
“Most definitely,” Corvin replied.
According to Corvin, those inside the bubble needed to be protected from radiation and the other forces generated inside it. The new X-31 radiation shielded tank would be perfect.
“It should be set up on the surface, though,” Claire spoke for the first time. “When the temporal wave hits, we have no idea what changes will take place. It’s very likely that this base will wink out of existence, in which case the people inside the bubble will be trapped underground.”
“She’s right,” Holly said.
Corvin turned to Paulson. “Is there a tank on the surface we can use?”
“I’m ordering one into position now. But you don’t have much time. The swarm will be on us soon. And once you get inside, I suggest you drive that tank away from here as fast as you can.”
“Who’ll be going into the bubble?” Mattie asked.
“You can fit four people in the tank, five if you’re willing to sit on top of each other,” Paulson said. “Senator, I’ll let you decide who goes.” He flipped his hand. “Yet there’s a catch, of course. You’ll need to choose in the next two minutes; otherwise, you’ll never make it to the surface in time. I’m needed here as long as I’m still breathing, so I won’t be going. It’s either death or oblivion for me.”
Mattie certainly admired the old man. Yet he felt a deep pang of grief that this could very well be the end for him—for them all, for that matter.
Paulson patted Senator Madison on the shoulder. “Good luck. I need to get down to the vortex floor and make sure the jump team is ready.”
Paulson looked at each of them, then turned to Mattie.
“Colonel, take care of this group. See them to safety.”
Mattie saluted. “Yes, sir.”
The old man was giving him one last mission.
Mattie vowed to be worthy of Paulson’s trust.
He vowed to protect his charges until the final breath was pulled from his body.
Chapter 39
5:30 a.m. Local Time, January 17, 2038
Chronos Two
“Let’s move,” Mattie said, hustling Senator Madison, Corvin, and Holly to the doors.
“There’s no time to choose anyone,” Jeff said solemnly. "Where's Whittenhouse? I should call him, get him to join us."
Paulson had given the senator an impossible choice to make and no time to make it. Who would he choose to go into the temporal bubble? He called Whittenhouse using the internal base communication system and quickly explained to him what they were doing.
After a few nods and okays, Jeff looked upwards and said, "I understand, good luck my friend. And goodbye."
A tear rolled down his cheek as he looked over at the others and solemnly said, "He wants to stay. He said he can help with the vortex generator repairs. That should be the highest priority."
Holly gave him a hug to try and ease the loss he felt from never seeing Whittenhouse again.
“It’ll be the four of us then,” Holly said.
Mattie looked at his ex-lover, Melinda Rider, standing silently next to Paulson. Even through the stress and tension of the moment, she looked just as beautiful as ever. He whispered in Jeff’s ear, “What about Melinda?”
Jeff shrugged. “Why not? Melinda, would you like to join us?”
Her eyes opened wide, and she looked from Jeff to Mattie, realizing immediately what he’d just done. She opened her mouth, but closed it again before any words came out. Paulson smiled at her and nodded.
“Good choice, Senator. Melinda, you should join them.”
“But, sir, I should stay here. You need me.”
“I can get by. Go with them. It’s your best chance.”
Paulson hugged her, then turned to walk away before she could say anything else. A single tear ran down Melinda’s cheek. Mattie felt a twinge in his stomach—empathy for Melinda’s grief. He wanted to wipe away her tear, comfort her, but he suppressed his feelings. He had work to do.
“Come on, time’s running out,” he said, urging them on.
Melinda rubbed her eyes. Then she drew herself up strong and straight and marched forward. That was the Melinda he’d fallen in love with, the fighter.
“Follow me,” she said.
They ran out of the vortex building, leaving the repair crews behind, and retraced their steps to the metro. Military personnel were running all around them, readying a barrier of protection around the main building. This would be their last line of defense when the swarm broke through from the surface. And break through it would. Mattie knew there was no way to stop it. The best they could hope for would be to slow it down and give the repair crews a chance at the vortex generator.
They shared the elevator ride to the surface with troops and mech units taking the last of the battle gear out to meet the alien threat.
“Give ’em hell,” Mattie said to a young man in a battle suit.
“Sir, yes sir!”
The elevator ground to a halt at the surface. Instead of finding the quiet emptiness of the old airplane hangar, they emerged into a flurry of activity as units were deployed in a protective grid for hundreds of yards around the entrance to the base. Mech units patrolled the perimeter, roving missile launchers pointed to the north, troops had dug bunkers into the desert sand, and dozens of aerial drones buzzed overhead in strike formation. All that remained of the once great United States military left defending a patch of ground in the Iraqi desert.
For a last stand, it looked pretty impressive.
The horizon began to brighten. Sunrise was moments away.
A young soldier hurried over and saluted Mattie.
“Colonel Tedrow?”
“Yes.”
“Your tank is over here.” He pointed to the west. “It’s one of the newer, faster models, and heavily reinforced. Is there anything else you need?”
“We’re good, thank you, Sergeant.”
The growing crescendo in Mattie’s head was now almost unbearable. The swarm was close. He tried to keep a stern face, but he felt like curling up in bed and hiding from the pain.
He scanned the horizon again. There it was, the swarm. A vast cloud stretching from the surface of the earth far into the sky. Right in the middle of the dark purple cloud, skimming close to the surface, were the bulbous bodies of the floating man o’ wars. Their tendrils dragged behind them, quivering, nearly touching the ground. For one of the few times in his life, Mattie was scared.
This was no paltry disagreement between families or clans or nations that had played out through the long scope of human history. Those battles and wars transferred power from one group to another and back again countless times. And yes, some wars had been brutal, wiping entire cultures off the face of the earth.
But loss hadn’t meant the end of the human race. Man had had a chance to regroup and assert himself. But this . . .
This might truly be the end. And not for only one group. The end for them all.
A whistle blew and the fight began.
A barrage of hundreds of missiles fired from all positions, and a squadron of attack drones zoomed out to meet the dark cloud. Mattie felt the power of the weaponry.
They needed to get out of there fast. They ran to the tank and climbed in through the hatch. Mattie immediately jumped into the driver’s seat and linked with the AI. Dr. Corvin began setting up the temporal bubble generator while the others found their seats and buckled in. Mattie initiated the autopilot to take them to what he felt would be the safest location in what would soon be a major battle zone.
Then he turned to the others.
“I’ve set the coordinates for a safe hiding place, but I’m not going.”
Melinda cried out. “What are you talking about, Mattie?” she said. “You need to hide with us. There’s nothing you can do here.”
“But there is. I can buy time.”
Jeff nodded solemnly and wrapped his hand around Holly’s.
“He’s right, Melinda. He’s linked with them—the alien swarm. Perhaps he can slow down the onslaught long enough for the crew to get the vortex generator repaired.”
Melinda started to cry again. “But can’t someone else . . . ”
She knew there was no one else. Maybe what he could do wouldn’t be enough, but he had to at least try.
Mattie watched her swallow back a sob. Did she still feel something for him? He quickly put the thought out of his mind. As much as he wanted to move forward with Melinda, he knew this was not the time or the place for rekindling lost romances. Plus he was never much for dramatic goodbyes.
He simply said, “May God be with you,” and then hugged Melinda and Holly, and shook Jeff’s hand.
“Thank you for getting her here,” Jeff said, putting his arm around Holly. “Good luck to you. Give ’em hell.”
Mattie looked at Melinda one last time—his one true love that he’d given up. He should’ve done things differently, not pushed her away, and been there when she needed him and not out on some mission. But it was too late for them. Anything he said now would be meaningless. Instead he did the only reckless thing he could think of. He grabbed her by the neck and kissed her passionately.
For the last time.
Then he jumped out of the tank.
The AI kicked in and it sped off, and Mattie returned to the front line, ready for battle.
The swarm was almost on their location, and the missiles had done nothing to stop it. EM pulse cannons fired and non-nuclear pulse bombs exploded high in the air.
But still they came.
The first wave hit the outer rim of mech units with the sound of insects splattering on the window of a speeding car. The mechs had no chance and were devoured in seconds. Next the aerial drone units went down, lost in the dark purple cloud buzzing overhead. Finally the men around him disintegrated, their cries lost to the buzzing wings of millions of locust bots.
Mattie stood on the elevator platform as the airplane hangar was shredded around him. He and a small group of soldiers were making a last stand. The brave men and women fired everything they could at the swarm cloud, screaming in anger, knowing full well that this was the end for them.
Now was the time.
Mattie reached out with his mind.
He could hear their commands, their voices, billions of tiny minds working as one.
His hand shot into the air.
And the swarm stopped.
A gap opened up about twenty feet around Mattie and the others. The bots simply swirled around the platform, creating a tornado funnel with him and the others in the center.
The level of concentration required to hold the creatures back was excruciating. His hand shook and sweat poured down his face. The power and desire of the swarm to devour everything in its path was too strong. He wouldn’t be able to hold them for much longer.
Suddenly the swarm parted, but not because of anything he did. They were opening up for the man o' wars entering the field of battle. The horrible things were floating forward, tentacles quivering under their enormous bulbous bodies.
Mattie tried to reach out with his mind to control them, but something blocked him. Those things were stronger than the bots that made up the swarm. They were smarter. But he could sense their intent. He had just a second.
Time slowed.
Mattie crouched and jumped as high as he could, flying at least one hundred feet up.
The soldiers still fighting below him shrank away. Then in an instant, a singularity formed in the middle of them. It was too small to see, but Mattie knew it was there. He could feel it pulling him. Everyone and everything within reach of the singularity black hole was sucked into it.
In a flash they were all gone.
Nothing was left but a gaping crater fifty feet wide and fifty feet deep. The elevator shaft to Chronos Two was exposed. The circling, snarling swarm waited on the edge, Mattie still holding them back.
He fell.
As he plummeted into the crater and down the shaft, his mind lost its hold on the swarm and it surged forward.
And still he fell, deeper and deeper.
Chapter 40
6:30 a.m. Local Time, January 17, 2038
Chronos Two, Hillah, Iraq
The wind hit his face and darkness leapt up around him as he fell. The opening to the surface became a tiny rectangle far above. Mattie felt the swarm surging forward, following him down, hunting for the hidden base.
He was going too fast; he needed a way to slow his descent. Even with his healing powers, hitting the bottom from a mile up would kill him. He twisted his body so that his descent angle would move him closer to the center elevator cables. Then he reached out.
He grabbed onto one cable, and the coarse metal cord cut through his right hand, ripping skin and muscle as he gripped tighter and tighter. The pain was excruciating. Just when one hand could take no more punishment, he reached out with the other. His fall slowed. Finally he wrapped his legs around the cable, giving him full control of his descent.
Ten seconds later he reached the bottom of the shaft, gliding to a halt. Above him the swarm was pouring down, filling the entire shaft. He quickly pried open the elevator doors and burst outside, only to find hundreds of weapons pointed at him.
Shots rang out, piercing his skin.
He held his arms up and yelled, “Hold your fire!”
A couple of commanders called out for the others to cease fire as two medics rushed over to pull Mattie off the platform.
“They’re right behind me,” he managed to sputter. “Collapse the shaft.”
“Collapse it! Fire in the hole!”
Huge explosions resounded from the elevator shaft as they employed their final fail-safe. Rocks and debris fell and sand blew out into the entrance area.
Mattie’s body healed in seconds, and the bullets were ejected from his flesh. He sprang to his feet and balled up his hands, shedding dead skin destroyed by the cable burns. He could feel millions of the bots trapped under tons of rock in the shaft. Most were still functional, but it would take them some time to chew their way through the rock.
But the singularity weapons could easily create a path through the debris, and he doubted they much cared about sacrificing the bots. His best chance for a last defense against the swarm would be at the vortex generator. Right now, preserving that device was all that mattered.
He turned away from the shaft entrance just as the ground began to vibrate and a sucking sound emanated from deep in the rock. He could feel the pull coming from the shaft. Mattie knew there must be a black hole sucking up tons of rock, creating a tunnel down through the debris field. The next one would hit the entrance room, obliterating the men and women defending the vortex generator—defending humanity’s final hope.
He turned and ran, sprinting as fast as he could.
He had to get to the vortex.
He was back at the command center in minutes, running past the fortifications in a blur. He burst into the vortex room and found them still working on the doughnut. Paulson paced nearby.
“We’ve done everything we could,” Mattie sputtered, his breath a bit ragged. “They’ll be here in minutes. I can delay the swarm, but not the man o’ wars, and it only takes one of those to wipe out all of this in an instant. I’m sorry, sir. I’m so very sorry.”
Mattie had let them down. He was the only one who could hold the swarm back. They were depending on him. And now all those men and women were dying because he was too weak.
“I’m going to try again,” he said, spinning back to the entrance.
“Mattie, don’t be ridiculous.” Paulson grabbed him by the arm as he tried to charge off. “Remember what I taught you: battles are won and lost by the sword, wars are won and lost by the mind.”
Mattie didn’t want to hear any of Paulson’s stupid war philosophy. He was a fighter and he wanted to use his fucking sword right now.
“Let go of me, I’m headed back,” he snarled.
“You’ll do us no good there. Try not to think about the men and women we’ve lost. Think about the ones we can save. I need you to hold the swarm here, in this enclosed space. It will at least give us a chance. Do you understand me, soldier?”
Despite his age, Paulson twisted Mattie around and stared him square in the face. And he wouldn’t look away.
Mattie saw the determination, the raw courage, that had Paulson still fighting, still pushing for victory. The man wouldn’t quit, wouldn’t give up. He wouldn’t give in.
Mattie let out a long breath.
Paulson was right; Mattie needed to control his anger and pain. Doing something rash wouldn’t bring anyone back. He needed to focus on buying them time. They needed to get the vortex repaired and the jumpers through. He nodded to Paulson and took up a defensive position near the door.
“Patrick, Whittenhouse how does it look?” Paulson yelled out.
Both men were working feverishly on the device.
“It would go faster if you stopped asking me that every five goddamn minutes,” Chen retorted.
Another older man, with short white hair, who must've been Whittenhouse, replied, "Almost there!"
Paulson turned away, walked over to a metal chair and sat with the men and women of the jump team. He gestured Mattie to an empty chair beside him.
Mattie felt too restless to sit at this moment of high tension—their last stand. But he acquiesced to Paulson's request and tried to calm his nervous energy. His moment of action would come soon enough.
“So, Mattie, did you see our friends off?”
“Yes, sir. The tank should be out of harm’s way by now.”
Paulson nodded. “And Melinda?”
Mattie shrugged.
“Cute girl. I always thought you two made a nice couple. Maybe in another timeline.” Paulson laughed lightly, then he sighed.
“All the planning, all the preparations, the foreknowledge . . . All of it for nothing. The result is just the same. Makes you wonder if we should’ve just lived our lives and let this all play out as it was meant to be.”
Paulson looked to the ceiling, then at his wife and family who were standing off to the side with the family members of others in the jump group. They’d said their goodbyes and were all waiting for the end to come. Many were crying and hugging one another, some praying. Others had panicked looks on their faces and were eyeing the door and the vortex generator, looking for some sort of escape. Mattie recognized a handful of elected officials and their families who'd come to watch the departure—those that were left behind after Diaz's hasty exit.
“You don’t believe that, do you, sir? There’s always a way. Even in the darkest hour we should never lose hope. Hell, that’s the only time we truly need it.”
Paulson patted him on the leg, then stood.
“You’re right, Mattie. There is always hope.”
Paulson walked over to his family and put his arms around his wife, children, and grandchildren. Was that a tear running down his cheek? In all the years he’d known him, Mattie had never seen Paulson cry, even in the direst situations. But realizing that your entire family could soon die would be enough to break even the hardiest of souls.
As Mattie watched Paulson and his family, Claire joined him. “Mattie, I’ve decrypted the com-link data from the device sent back in time at Chronos One.”
“What?”
With the alien attack, Mattie had forgotten that they were also dealing with a traitor in their own group.
“Claire, Paulson should hear this too.” Mattie gestured him over. “She decrypted the message sent to Chronos One.”
“What was it?” Paulson asked.
“Two signals went out, which was why it was so hard to decipher them. The first signal was sent to Howard Nichols, the second went t—”
Boom!
A huge explosion rocked the air around them, cutting Claire off. Heavy-weapons fire echoed through the vast underground chamber.
“Hold that thought, Claire,” Mattie yelled as he ran to stand guard in front of the door.
The explosions and gunfire continued for several moments more before fading. Then the metallic buzzing sound that Mattie knew all too well quickly followed.
“Done!” Chen exclaimed as he and the others backed away from the vortex generator.
“Boot her up!” Paulson yelled out. “Jump team, move!”
The black hole generators powered up and began humming and vibrating with energy. The jump team moved into place, hugging and kissing their families goodbye. One small child clung to his father’s leg, not wanting to let go.
“No, Daddy, no. Don’t go, don’t leave us!” the little boy cried out, tears streaming down his face.
The others watched, crying as well. It was a heart-rending scene. Everyone knew those left behind would die, eaten by the swarm. Paulson looked on, his own family holding each other tight.
Mattie watched as Paulson strode to Chen and spoke to him. Chen pulled out a tablet, messed with it, and then nodded, a smile breaking out on his face.
“We’re scrapping the truck and the heavy artillery!” Paulson yelled out. “Everyone is jumping with us. No one will be left behind.”
Cheers rang out from the crowd.
“You’ll only be able to take the clothes on your back, nothing else,” Chen said.
Several lines formed in front of the vortex, soldiers first. They were followed by scientists, engineers, linguists, and other experts mixed in with their families.
Mattie heard more shots and explosions from the front of the command center building. The swarm was here and would be inside very soon.
“Initiate defense protocol alpha,” Paulson ordered.
Huge steel doors slid into place, closing up the glass windows and sealing everyone inside. Then the floor began to lower, descending into the earth.
“Doctor, the vortex!” Paulson yelled.
Chen held up his finger, telling them to hold for a second, then he pointed at the generator. A blackness opened up inside the ring, accompanied by a whooshing sound.
Just as the vortex formed, some sort of scuffle rose up from the back of the crowd. Mattie watched as people were shoved aside. Dr. Howard Nichols burst through the group, knocking women and children out of the way as he dashed toward the vortex. Broken handcuffs dangled from one wrist. Any other day Mattie would’ve easily stopped him, but right now, with the sharp streaks of pain hammering away at his head, he wasn’t able to react in time. Howard dove head first into the vortex before anyone could grab him.
“Don’t worry about him!” Paulson yelled. “We’ll deal with him on the other side. Just get through! Now!”
Armed soldiers immediately ran forward, followed quickly by more military carrying supplies. Then the group of experts and their families began jumping. But there were several hundred people in total and the seconds were ticking away.
Mattie could feel the swarm’s anger at the opening of the vortex. They sensed it was there and knew it could pose a threat to them. They shredded through the steel plating of the ceiling like it was paper until a tiny hole opened in the steel.
Mattie held his hand up and once again concentrated as hard as he could. The seconds ticked away as he held the swarm at bay. But they were determined. There were still about twenty-five people, including children, who needed to get through the vortex. And the swarm wanted them.
The creatures dropped down into the room, just a few at first, then in a torrential downpour. He took several steps back toward the vortex platform, the swarm circling just overhead. Several of the horrible insects fell through his protective mental barrier and began crawling toward him, resisting his control.
Whittenhouse finished his work on one of the generator control panels and dove through the vortex, still holding a socket wrench. Following him the last of the jumpers passed through as well, leaving just Chen, who was fiddling with one of the generators, Paulson, and Claire.
“Mattie, Chen, come on!” Paulson bellowed from the lip of the vortex.
More bots fell, this time crawling on the top of the generator. Mattie’s sphere of control was quickly eroding, and his head felt like it was going to explode.
Chen ran and jumped through the vortex. Claire shoved Paulson through just as Mattie collapsed from his exertions. He lay unmoving on the floor, waiting for the sharp mandibles of the alien creatures to dig into his flesh. But before the end came, a pair of strong hands grabbed him by the waist and lifted him into the air.
The last thing he saw was a plasma grenade bouncing across the floor as the swarm cascaded from the ceiling like a purple waterfall.
A bright flash went off.
Then everything went dark.
Chapter 41
6:00 a.m. Local Time, January 17, 2038
Chronos Two, Hillah, Iraq
Jeff held Holly tight as the tank rolled over the desert floor. She was pretty banged up after the harrowing ordeal she’d been through. Cuts and bruises covered her body, plus there was that patch over one eye. She’d brushed off his questions, but if they ever got out of danger and had time to rest and talk, he’d find out more. His wife was tough. As long as she was still breathing, she was still fighting.
Digital readouts from the tank’s cockpit showed detailed information on the terrain, and radar images displayed the swarm gathering behind them. Jeff hoped all the vicious creatures would be occupied by the small army positioned at the entrance to Chronos Two. The last thing they needed was stragglers following them.
Melinda Rider was sitting silently beside them, staring at the empty pilot’s seat. He could tell she missed Mattie, especially after that kiss he laid on her before running off.
“If anyone can survive the attack, it’s Mattie,” Jeff said. Although the kind of life he’d have if he was the only survivor would be a barren one.
“I know,” she said quietly. “But he’s not the only one I’m thinking of. If they succeed in the mission and jump to the past, then everything is going to change. We’re going to emerge into an unknown world.”
"Plus we'll be the only ones alive to have experienced this timeline," Jeff added.
“At least we’ll be alive,” Holly said. “I’ll take a new world over timeline oblivion any day of the week.”
Jeff had a high level of anxiety over this whole concept. They had no idea how the timeline would change. They could end up worse off than they were now.
“I just feel I should be back there, with them,” Melinda said.
Jeff knew Melinda was close to Paulson, almost like a daughter, and from the look of that last kiss, she and Mattie had had something serious going at one time.
“They’ll be able to hold their own,” Jeff said. “Plus Paulson and Mattie both want you here with us.”
“I need to get outside,” Corvin said, oblivious to their conversation on relationships. “I need to hook up one of the generators on the outer hull.”
Jeff let go of Holly’s hand and climbed into the driver's seat. He had no idea how to drive a tank, but the AI should respond to his voice commands.
“Tank AI, are you there?”
“X-31 here, ready for your command,” the tank belted out in a deep masculine voice.
“We need to stop and one man needs to exit the vehicle.”
“Affirmative. Stopping in eight seconds, seven, six . . . ”
The tank slowed. The visual data screens showed the Euphrates River stretching out before them. The ancient river had seen the passing of countless generations of man, stretching back before the dawn of civilization.
The top hatch slid open, and Corvin climbed out carrying a small part from the generator. Weaponry emerged from the tank’s hull and turned outward in all directions, poised for threats.
“Defensive position established,” intoned the AI.
Jeff watched the screen as the tank scanned the area. In the distance flashes of light indicated explosions were taking place near the base entrance. Radar showed increasing concentrations of the swarm and the devastating singularity-generating creatures.
After several minutes of flashes and explosions, everything just stopped and went silent. Modern tanks were equipped with several small surveillance drones to help coordinate attacks. This tank’s drones were flying near the battle site. As they passed over the entrance to the base, they showed a gaping hole where the old airplane hangar used to be.
The singularity weapons had done their job. The remnants of the U.S. army were destroyed, and the entrance to the base had been uncovered. The drones showed the swarm pouring into the elevator shaft like dark purple water going down a drain.
“How’s it going out there, Darren?” Jeff asked, feeling a sense of urgency now that the swarm had breached the base defenses.
“Almost there, just another second . . . There, got it!”
They needed to get to their hiding place as soon as possible. They were way too easy to spot out here in the open. Of course, Jeff still didn’t know where they were going.
“X-31, what is our destination?”
“The middle of the Euphrates River.”
What the fuck? They were going underwater?
“This vehicle is submersible?”
“Yes, I’m fully operational and secure under water up to depths of one hundred and fifty feet.”
The destination made sense. They’d be out of sight and hopefully undetectable by the alien bots.
Through the outside cameras, Jeff could see Corvin walking on the side of the tank and back to the ladder leading to the top hatch.
“Intruder alert,” the AI said.
“Ow! Damn it!” Corvin slapped the back of his neck and pulled off a bot, throwing it to the ground.
Shit, the creatures had found them already.
Corvin continued up the ladder and reached the top of the hatch. It was locked, so he started banging on it while slapping away more bots.
“Let me in, let me in, goddamn it! These things are biting me!”
Jeff reached over to open the hatch, then drew his hand back.
Two more bots landed on Corvin, one on his back, another on his face. His screaming was loud enough that Holly and Melinda could hear it.
“Let him in!” Melinda screamed. “They’ll kill him!”
She reached for the control panel, but Holly grabbed her hand before she could touch it.
“There’s nothing we can do for him, Melinda. If we open the hatch, those bots will follow him in.”
Jeff had seen enough. He felt horrible for Corvin, but like Holly said, they couldn't help him now. He was already dead. The bots would eat their way into his body in seconds. Then they would come after him and the women.
“Shall I initiate outer defense mode?” the AI asked.
Jeff didn’t know what that meant exactly. “Yes,” he answered.
Instantly an electric surge enveloped the outer skin of the tank, repulsing Corvin’s body and sending it flying out into the desert.
“Go!” Jeff yelled.
The tank moved forward into the Euphrates.
He felt a stab of guilt for leaving Corvin behind to die. And it felt cowardly to protect his own skin, but he needed to keep Holly and Melinda safe. Both women were sobbing behind him.
“Initiating dive mode,” the AI stated.
The tank rolled deeper and deeper into the river until they were under several feet of water. It continued to drive along the bottom of the riverbed until they reached the middle of the river, where it stopped.
“Stealth mode engaged.”
The tank shut down, leaving only basic life support and surveillance functions live.
Jeff turned to Holly. “I hope you know how to turn that bubble on.”
Holly frowned. “I can figure it out.”
She moved over to the console Corvin had set up and began tapping and sliding her fingers over the interface.
A red light started blinking on the tank's control panel.
“AI, what is that?”
“The same hostile that attacked and killed your fellow crew member. It is currently hovering over our location.”
“Holly, we’re going to have company real soon.” Jeff glanced back at his wife to find her frowning and biting her lip.
“I don’t know why the hell he programmed the device like this.”
The red dot blinked again, this time larger.
“Hostile has dived down and is now on the outer hull,” the AI said. “It is using an unknown type of penetrating scanner to look inside.”
The creature started scraping at the top of the tank. It sounded like fingernails scratching over a chalkboard
“Holly!”
“Shut up!”
“Initiating countermeasures,” the AI said.
Another shock wave enveloped the outside of the armored tank, but the scratching continued.
Jeff and Melinda both looked up at the roof, checking to see if anything was coming through.
“There.”
Melinda pointed at a circular spot on the ceiling that was turning lighter and beginning to crack. Jeff looked around for a weapon that might keep the bot from getting inside, but they only had conventional weapons that would be of no use against these larger, stronger bots.
Water began to leak from the crack as sharp claws and razor-like mandibles emerged from a tiny hole. The red eyes of the creature scanned the inside of the tank, searching for human flesh.
Melinda jumped up and swung a hammer down on the creature, trying to smash it. She banged it once, twice, three times, but it continued squirming its way through.
“Hull breach, hull breach,” the AI droned.
“Got it!” Holly yelled.
Suddenly Jeff felt a strange tingling all over his body and his stomach flipped, as though he’d tumbled off a cliff. It was all he could do to hold down his last meal. Holly vomited, and Melinda fell to the floor and curled up in the fetal position. They were all moaning.
The bot began quivering, its front legs jerking wildly. Then it fell to the floor, its body cut smoothly in half.
Melinda struggled to her knees and lifted her hammer again, this time smashing the remaining half of the bot into gooey smithereens.
“Take that, motherfucker!”
Holly vomited once more and wiped her mouth. “We’re safely inside the temporal bubble now,” she said. “Nothing can get in or out until I turn off the field.”
“How long before the temporal wave hits?” Jeff asked.
“If they were successful at the base and were able to initiate the long jump, it won’t be long.”
“And what does that mean exactly?” Melinda asked. “Will we feel or see anything?”
“I don’t know,” Holly said, her eyes wide. “This has never been done before, not even in experiments. I don’t know for sure it’ll work.”
“Can we move?” Jeff asked.
“We should be able to. The field is being generated directly onto the hull of the tank. We now exist outside of real time and space. The bubble is impenetrable.”
“How about to a singularity?”
Holly, shivering, wrapped her arms around herself. “I have no idea.”
“Maybe we should stay here for now, and wait,” Jeff said.
The minutes ticked away in silence.
“How long should we wait?” Melinda finally asked.
Jeff deferred to Holly, who simply shrugged.
He banged on the nearest surface. “Well, this tank is fully stocked with rations, enough to last for weeks.”
“If they weren’t able to jump, then we’ll need to find other survivors, build up a resistance.” Melinda looked determined, her fists held tight. “We can avenge the deaths of the others,” she said firmly.
Jeff knew that’d be a suicide mission, but he liked Melinda’s determination. If the others weren’t able to complete the jump, then there were no other time-travel options. Of course, if they had jumped, they could’ve simply died in the past, or their efforts to change the timeline could have been buried under the weight of history, forgotten and lost. The long-jump option had always been a long shot, a last-ditch Hail-Mary pass at best.
At least he was here with Holly. If the world was going to end, there was no one he’d rather have by his side. He held out hope that perhaps others had survived the alien attack and were hiding in deep underground bunkers, readying themselves to emerge one day.
He leaned his head back in the comfortable control chair and watched Holly. She too was lost in thought, probably thinking along the same lines as he was. He reached over and grabbed her hand. She smiled and squeezed.
Without warning, the tank began shaking, the tremors breaking up his daydreams. None of the external sensors worked inside the temporal bubble, so they had no way of knowing what was going on outside. They could only see through the front window, which revealed nothing but dim light from the surface of the river.
The trembling grew stronger, strong enough to rip the tank apart.
“The temporal wave is coming,” Holly said quietly. “Hang on.”
A bright light flashed in front of them.
Then blue sky appeared, and they began falling.
Chapter 42
Morning, Early Spring, 331 BC
Babylon
Paulson landed in a lush, green field of wild flowers, right beside Patrick Chen and Franklin Whittenhouse. The jump medicine he’d taken earlier quelled his nausea, and he immediately began to process their surroundings. The calculations had worked perfectly, taking into account the rotation and orbit of the earth. Instead of landing deep underground or high in the sky, everyone was on the ground, just above the future site of Chronos Two.
A magnificent city loomed on the horizon, gold towers glistening in the morning sun. The great city of Babylon was a beacon of advanced culture and enlightenment in the ancient world. Yet if they’d arrived as planned, the city was about to be overrun. To the north, the armies of Alexander the Great were clashing against the forces of Darius of Persia at the Battle of Gaugamela. Alexander would win the battle, overrun Darius’s armies, and march into Babylon. It was there that Paulson and the others planned to meet him and solicit him as their primary ally.
The air was crisp, rich in oxygen, much more so than the polluted air he was accustomed to breathing in the year 2038. Paulson took a deep breath and sighed. They’d made it, and it was simply magnificent, incredible beyond words.
He couldn’t believe he’d actually traveled back in time over 2,360 years. If he wasn’t standing right here in the lush green grass of the past, he’d swear he was in a dream, or in some type of holo mind-link simulation. A butterfly flapped its wings and flew gently past his face. No, this was real. Paulson smiled and spread his arms wide in exhilaration.
Before he could reflect more on the matchless splendor of the moment, a shot shattered the peace and plunged Paulson back into fight mode.
One of the soldiers who’d been helping establish a safety perimeter fell to the ground, blood splattering from his head.
“Everybody down!” one of the commanders yelled out.
Paulson’s body reacted without thought, his training immediately kicking in. He dove into the deep grass, burying himself in wild flowers. He reached out, grabbed Chen’s leg, and pulled him down as well.
Gunshots in 331 BC could mean only one thing: the group that had attacked them in the future were waiting in ambush.
An RPG flew out from a nearby hill and landed in the middle of one of the troop formations. An explosion propelled bodies into the air.
Paulson touched his eye and ear and initiated battle response functions from his implants. They needed to find cover quickly, yet they had no idea what the terrain was like during this time period. Everything was so different.
“Captain Gomez, are you there?” Paulson needed to coordinate with the squadron commander.
“Yes, sir. We’re taking heavy fire over here. There are multiple casualties. We only have small arms to defend ourselves since we left all the heavy munitions behind in the future.”
Boom!
Another explosion hit near Paulson’s position.
“Captain, are you there? Captain!”
No response.
A whooshing behind Paulson indicated that the vortex was opening once again. He turned around in time to see Mattie and Claire come tumbling through.
Thank God. His supersoldier and android were still alive and functioning.
Claire immediately began dragging Mattie off the battlefield.
More shots rang out from positions surrounding them, this time hitting some of the children and noncombatants. The attackers were trying to slaughter them all. There would be no way to get off the field alive without exposing themselves. But they couldn’t just lie there either; they’d be blown to bits as more RPGs exploded around them.
Goddamn it. Fucking goddamn those sons of bitches.
They escape an alien onslaught in the future just to be killed by their fellow humans in the past. How fucking ironic.
The crack team that Paulson had spent so many years putting together was fighting back, but they had no idea where the enemy was. They were being cut to shreds.
Paulson spotted a forest filled with thick palm trees just to their south. That could provide cover, or it could be where the attackers were hiding. If they ran for it and the attackers were there, they’d be slaughtered.
He had to do something.
“Team One, head south to the forest,” he ordered.
A group of five soldiers jumped up and began running across the open field. One man went down from sniper fire before he could get halfway there. Then, when they reached the far edge of the field, the ground exploded and the running soldiers were obliterated in a fiery blast.
Those weren’t RPG explosions. The motherfuckers had the field rigged with mines.
How long had they been here preparing and waiting for him and the others?
All around him women were screaming and children were crying. He had no idea where his own family was. And still gunfire crackled and another RPG rained down on them. There wouldn’t be anybody left if this kept up much longer. This was no fight—it was a pure massacre.
Paulson forced his mind to calm and think, ignoring the slaughter and chaos.
“Everyone spread out,” he said quietly into his com-link. “At least twenty feet between each person, but stay down.”
At least with the troops and civilians scattered, the damage caused by the RPGs would be minimized.
“Team Two, go northeast, Team Three, southeast, and Team Four, southwest. Watch for land mines. Team Five, try to move the civilians northwest.”
This tactic might confuse the enemy; at the very least it would give them more targets to shoot at. Either way, they needed to get out of this field, and any method they chose would bring casualties. Paulson would stay with the civilians and crawl northwest.
Where the hell were Mattie and Claire? If they weren’t injured, he could sure use their help now.
Before he could move more than five feet, Paulson felt strong hands grab him from behind. He was whisked away from the battlefield, moving so fast, the ground became a blur.
When he was set down, minutes later, he found himself in a tiny stone house. A local family, dressed in robes and sandals, sat huddled and shaking in the corner of the room, fear naked on their faces. Paulson looked up at his savior. Mattie.
“Took me a couple minutes to recover from the time jump,” Mattie said. “But I’m almost a hundred percent. I’m going after the attackers, with Claire helping.”
He darted off.
Paulson stood and hurried to a window. A row of plowed fields ready for seed was nearby, and just past that, through a clump of trees, was the grassy field they’d jumped into.
He reached down to his hip. He still had his pistol. He couldn’t help the people on the field right now, but he could sure as hell help Mattie and Claire. He drew his pistol from its holster and nodded to the poor family who had no idea what to make of this whole thing. Then he ran out of their home.
With his optical implant still streaming a limited amount of data, he was able to pick up Mattie’s trail. An imprint of his boot, barely visible to the unenhanced eye, was easily found and registered by his old combat implant. It told him how fast Mattie was moving and in what direction. In the future he would’ve had access to satellite data as well, but here he had to rely more on his own senses.
He ran toward the palm forest just to the west of the battlefield. The underbrush was deep, perfect for men to hide in and attack from. It was amazing how different the landscape was here in the past. In 2038 this entire area was nothing but dry, rocky desert, but in 321 BC, it was as lush and alive as any semi-tropical forest he’d ever seen.
A wild pig barreled through the underbrush, piglets squealing behind her. Paulson was careful to let them pass undisturbed. If a boar was nearby he wanted no part of that large, powerful and dangerous animal.
He continued to follow Mattie’s trail. Moments later he came across two dead men; they’d been shot in the head. Blood was still dripping from the bullet entry points, and they were slumped over rocket launchers.
Two down and who knows how many more to go.
Paulson grabbed one of their automatic machine guns and holstered his own pistol. He glanced at their faces. They looked vaguely familiar, but he didn’t know either of them personally.
Dirty traitors.
The rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire continued around him, and another explosion rocked the ground.
A flash of movement caught his attention, and he immediately fell to the ground under a fern. As he buried himself in the soil, he smelled the robust aroma of life.
Movement again disturbed the trees.
A masked man in a camouflage battle suit crept along, automatic weapon in hand. Paulson aimed his own gun, his optical link automatically lining up the sight. The battle suit the man was wearing had a slight vulnerability at the neck. That was his target.
Bang!
The traitor fell to the ground, and Paulson felt not one iota of remorse. The job wasn’t finished, however, and he jumped out from under the fern and pounced on the downed man. His suit was sparking, and Paulson yanked off his helmet and hit him in the face with the butt of his rifle, knocking him unconscious.
He recognized the man as a colonel under the command of General Craig. So the conspiracy, the treachery, reached deep into the military ranks. He searched the colonel’s standard pack, pulled out his handcuffs, and quickly locked him down.
“Mattie, we may want to take some of these men alive, if at all possible. Claire, that goes for you as well. I have one prisoner already.”
“Understood.” The message from Claire instantly popped up on his optics.
As much as Paulson would like to kill them all, they needed to find out the full extent of their treachery. Who else was out there waiting for them?
“Roger that, sir,” Mattie responded.
More shots were fired. Paulson pushed forward through the underbrush, ducking behind palm trees so wide at the base that he could hide behind them easily with both arms stretched wide.
The number of shots being fired from the woods slowly ebbed, and the bombardment of the helpless time travelers subsided.
Mattie and Claire were doing their jobs.
Perhaps the traitors knew about Claire’s combat capabilities, but they had no idea about Mattie’s. Both he and Mattie tried to keep that secret. Even if they did know, there was no way to stop Mattie short of a direct hit with an EM pulse rifle followed by multiple heavy weapons or explosive attacks. But to hit him, they had to see him coming, and with all the cover around, that would be nearly impossible.
Something moved behind a fern. It had been just a slight shake of the leaves, but Paulson knew someone was there. He crouched down and drew his knife, edging closer to the hidden attacker. Then he pounced.
He landed on top of a squealing flurry of flying limbs, dirt, and leaves.
“Ahhh, no! Please don’t kill me!” the woman screamed.
No, not a woman. The high-pitched voice belonged to Dr. Howard Nichols. He’d tried to dig a little hiding place for himself behind a rotted log.
“Get up, you fucking traitor!”
Paulson was furious as he pulled Nichols to his feet. He was covered in dirt and had scratches on his face, most likely from running through the forest. This was the man Claire said betrayed them at Chronos One.
“You’re coming with me.”
Paulson put his knife into a sheath at his side, pulled his pistol out, and held it to the man’s bald and shaking head.
“If you move or try to scream out, it’ll be the last thing you ever do. I’ll put this bullet right through your skull. Understand me?”
Howard nodded, too scared to utter another word.
Paulson pushed his prisoner out in front of him, continuing to follow the sounds of gunfire, moving as fast as his old legs could carry him. He emerged from the palm forest into a small clearing, several hundred yards from the landing site. Sitting in a circle, bound and tied, heads down, were a group of a dozen men. Standing over them were Mattie and Claire. Paulson shoved Nichols to the ground beside them. His short, heavy frame landed with a thump.
Mattie had taken a few shots, but Paulson could see his wounds already healing. Claire’s arm dangled by her side, unmoving, likely a casualty of a pulse rifle. She would be able to repair it later.
Mattie approached him while Claire stood guard, weapon ready.
“We got ’em, sir. They put up one hell of a fight.”
“Excellent work, you two. Is this all of them?”
They both nodded.
“Let me see these motherfuckers.”
Paulson studied them one by one.
“My God.”
“Don’t use the Lord’s name that way in front of me, you bastard!”
Senator Samuel Gordon struggled to his feet and spat in Paulson’s face.
Paulson couldn’t control his anger and punched the senator as hard as he could, right in the mouth. Gordon crumpled to the ground, blood pouring from his lip.
“What the fuck have you done, Samuel?”
Gordon spat out a tooth as more blood dripped from his mouth.
“That’s it, punch me while my hands are tied, you fucking coward!” Gordon yelled furiously. “What does it look like I’ve done? I’m saving humanity.”
Paulson almost untied the senator just so he could beat him to a pulp, man to man. It took all his willpower to restrain himself.
“Save humanity? Have you lost your mind? You’ve just killed dozens of the people who are the only hope for saving humanity. Women and children, Samuel!”
“It was all for Christ.” Blood streamed from the corners of his mouth, and he spat onto the ground. “Your time manipulations go against all of creation. You would prevent the birth of the Son of God himself. We could not allow that.”
“You would let humanity die in the future for your religious beliefs? What would God say to that?”
“God would say I’m a man of faith, a true believer worthy of the kingdom of Heaven. But I don’t expect you to understand.”
Paulson had dealt with religious zealots before—there was no reasoning with them. Christian, Muslim or Jew, it didn’t matter. Faith could blind men to the truth.
He looked around at the others in the group. Congressman Lavar Winchell, a Baptist minister from the South, wouldn’t even look at him. He simply kept his head bowed, perhaps in prayer.
Paulson circled the prisoners. Most of the others were soldiers he vaguely recognized. Then he got to General Craig. That explained the military power and tactical prowess of the group.
“You’re with them, Mitchell?”
“I’m sorry, sir. You know I have great respect for you, but I put God before country. And this time jump goes against everything I believe in. Man was not meant to have this kind of power.”
“And the aliens? And the men and women under your command in the future who died fighting them? You dishonor their memories with this treason. What of their lives?”
The old general’s tired eyes looked away. He licked his lips and said, “We’ve all paid a horrible price. I can only place my faith in God and pray that he has led me in the right direction.”
Paulson had nothing else to say to General Craig. He then moved to Congresswoman Lenore Santiago. It didn’t surprise him to see her in this group. She was about as radical a fundamentalist as he’d seen.
“Lenore, don’t you think that Christ will be born no matter what we do?”
She stared up and him, colder and harder than any of the men.
“I think that God is working through us to ensure his son is born on the date and time as written in the Bible. We can accept nothing less.”
Paulson nodded and walked to the next man, Senator Raashid Abdallah.
“Senator, I’m surprised to see you here.”
“Jesus is an important figure in the Muslim world, Mr. Vice President. But your plans with the timeline will surely affect Islam just as much as Christianity. I’m as loyal to my faith as my Christian brothers and sisters are to theirs.”
“So I know the why, now I need the how. How did you pull this off? How did you get past our security and jump to the past?” Paulson circled around to the apparent ringleader, Senator Samuel Gordon.
Gordon averted his face. “I’m not saying anything else. If you want answers, you’re not going to get them from me.”
“Well then, perhaps Dr. Nichols, your partner in crime here, can enlighten us.”
Paulson squatted down over the traitor as he feebly held his bound hands in front of him.
“I had nothing to do with this. You have to believe me,” he blurted out frantically. “I’ve never even seen any of these people before.”
“Yeah right, Doctor. Then why don’t you tell me what that message you received from the future was all about.”
Howard looked confused as he gathered his thoughts. Then he said, “You mean the message I got at Chronos, just before the explosion?”
“Of course. The message your friends with the bomb sent.”
“I have no idea who sent it to me or why. I had nothing to do with the bomb or any of this.” Howard gestured to the other prisoners. “The message just said to get out. The voice on the other end said to leave the base immediately if I wanted to live. So I did. That’s all I know. The rest of the data that came through was encrypted and was on an automatic countdown deletion. I never had time to decipher it before it was gone and I was taken into custody.”
Paulson stepped away.
“Is that true, Claire?”
“Unfortunately I have no way of knowing what the content of the message was or the nature of the data. I just know who received it.”
Paulson considered her words. There was another possibility.
“Claire, is it possible that Nichols is a decoy?”
She stared down at the shaking scientist, as if algorithmically weighing his propensity to commit mass murder.
“You mentioned two transmissions earlier, Claire,” Mattie said, stepping up beside them. “Where did the other go?”
Zzzt!
An EM pulse cannon shot out from the forest, striking Claire in her back. She crumpled to the ground, her circuits temporarily off-line.
Mattie moved to go after the attacker, but before he could get more than ten feet, an EM pulse grenade exploded over their heads. The light blinded Paulson for a moment and scrambled his thoughts. Mattie was still on his feet, moving forward, but swaying as he walked, like a drunk. As he staggered to his target in the woods, a missile shot out.
Paulson instinctively dove to the ground, covering his head as he landed. Mattie tried to dodge, but the missile struck him in the chest. A huge explosion pulsed out through the ancient forest, echoing off the trunks of the giant palms. Paulson tried to cover himself, but could still feel the searing blast shoot fire on his skin.
The fire and smoke slowly cleared to reveal what remained of Mattie’s shattered body burning in the grass. All the prisoners had been knocked on their backs, unconscious from the blast impact. Paulson struggled to hold his head up. His ears were ringing, his thoughts scattered, and his vision blurry.
A shadowed figure emerged from the palm forest. Paulson blinked, but his eyes weren’t yet clear. The attacker held a plasma rifle and wore a black mask. He was dragging someone bound and gagged behind him.
He rubbed his eyes. Gretchen? Oh no! He had Gretchen!
The attacker lowered his rifle and aimed it directly at Paulson’s head, kicking away his machine gun and pistol, which he'd dropped during the explosion.
Then he spoke in a deep, gravelly voice distorted by the mask.
“Vice President Charles Paulson, I declare you guilty of crimes against God. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I sentence you to death.”
Chapter 43
7:00 a.m. Local Time, January 17, 2038
Hillah, Iraq
Holly rose into the air, weightless, as the tank fell from the sky.
The temporal wave had washed over them like a nuclear blast, shaking and spinning their tank and somehow leaving them far above the earth. How far was anyone’s guess.
The control panel and readouts were all going crazy, flooded with streams of bizarre data. Holly had no time to read it and no ability to focus in any way as the tank continued to fall.
A second later they hit something.
Green leaves and a brown tree limb flashed in the window.
Another hit, this one knocking the tank into a spin.
Dark foliage and bright blue sky alternated in the view screen.
Finally they landed with a jarring, shuddering crash. Holly felt the impact all through her back, into her teeth. The left rear of the tank smashed inward and shattered, twisted steel jammed its way into their compartment. Leaves and tree branches rained down around them in a storm of debris after final impact.
“Oh shit.” Melinda groaned in pain. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Holly coughed to clear her throat. “Oh God, what else?”
“You two still alive?” Jeff asked, no doubt trying to lighten the moment. His words let Holly know he was okay.
“Sometimes I wonder.” Melinda said.
“The temporal bubble generator is all shot to hell.” Holly motioned to the crushed side of the tank where the generator had been installed. It was nothing but a mangled set of components now.
Jeff unbuckled his harness and struggled to his feet.
“Well, there’s only one thing left to do. Let’s go out and see this brave new world we’ve created.”
He helped Holly stand, then pulled her close and rested his forehead against hers.
“I’m all right,” she said.
“Good.”
He didn’t move.
“I love you, Jeff.” She stroked his hair. “And I’m with you, the only place I want to be.”
His arms tightened, and he shuddered. Holly hugged back, allowing him his moment. He was a strong, strong man; she’d never begrudge him the need to draw strength from her when he needed it. She did the same with every thought of him and with her memories of the life they’d created together.
He pulled back and grinned, his eyes glassy.
“Does this mean we’re ready, Senator?”
“Ready, Dr. Scarborough.”
He flipped open the tank door, which was on the side now, and climbed out. Melinda and Holly followed.
They emerged into a lush forest of giant palm trees. The Euphrates River was nearby, just through the trees, flowing clear and blue. The dark and dry desert landscape was gone. Vegetation was thick under their feet as they stared in awe at the vast forest. The palm trees climbed high into the sky and were at least eight feet across at the base.
“This is amazing,” Holly said quietly.
Even the air was fresh and pure. She took a deep breath and it filled her lungs, invigorating her. The scene was truly incredible. Whatever had happened to the time stream, whatever Paulson, Mattie, Chen, Claire, and the others had done, had resulted in dramatic changes in the physical world.
Holly couldn’t believe they were actually alive. After everything they’d been through over the last few days, she was still breathing and Jeff was by her side. She wasn’t surprised to find that she wanted to laugh and cry and scream, all at the same time. She settled for stretching her arms wide and twirling until she got dizzy.
“I can’t believe it,” Melinda said in awe, staring up at the giant palm trees surrounding them.
“Are you sure we didn’t go back in time?” Jeff asked, his eyes wide as he tentatively patted the trunk of a palm. “That bubble thing doesn’t work like that, does it?”
“No,” Holly replied. “We’re in the same time, but the temporal wave has changed this landscape entirely. I couldn’t even venture a guess about how long it’s taken this forest to grow. But it doesn’t seem like humans have been here in a long, long time.”
Which was not a good thing. Holly wondered if humanity had managed to wipe itself out altogether.
“Do you think we nuked ourselves to death sometime in the distant past?” Melinda asked, tracking Holly’s thoughts.
Jeff shrugged as he stepped over a large root. “Nukes in the hands of the Roman emperors? Who knows? I suggest we search for signs of human life before we jump to conclusions. We should follow the river downstream; that’ll be our best shot at finding civilization.”
The river had changed course in this new timeline. In their time it had been dammed and its flow altered numerous times over the centuries, with no resemblance to its natural course.
Holly tapped her eye and ear, but there was no stream here, no connection to anything. Just dead silence.
“Why did we appear so high in the sky and not on the ground?” Melinda asked.
“I’m not sure,” Holly said. “Earth’s rotation and orbit around the sun can vary over time, but I’m not sure what would cause it to fluctuate like that. Theoretically, we should’ve been in the same spot.”
They started walking. Holly had all kinds of questions swirling through her mind and no answers. Everyone was hungry and thirsty so they drank some cool, fresh water from the Euphrates and broke out some of the rations from the tank. They found some fig trees as well and gobbled down a few juicy delicious fruits. Reenergized they set off exploring their new world.
After half an hour or so of trudging along the banks of the river—scanning their surroundings and marveling—they came across some ruins. Large rocky outcroppings and collapsed marble columns marked the remains of what must’ve been a great port.
“Let’s have a look at this ancient city and that building over there,” Jeff said, pointing to a large temple-like structure in the forest, some distance from the river. “Maybe they’ll shed some light on what’s happened here.”
“Could this be Babylon?” Melinda asked.
Holly poked at some of the ruins with a stick, still astounded at all the changes around them. What had happened?
“Possibly,” she said. “This should be about where the great city once stood. But in our timeline nothing remained of it but dirt hills. It’d been abandoned for two thousand years and lost to the desert.”
“What about this writing?” Jeff asked, studying inscriptions on one of the enormous marble columns that stood as an entranceway to the former river port.
Holly ran over to see.
“I’m no archeology expert, but I’d guess cuneiform, one of the earliest known forms of writing. But there are other letters mixed in. See here? These letters look like the Latin alphabet.”
Holly pointed at an A, a D, an M, and other familiar letters mixed in with the cuneiform scribbling.
“Let’s keep going—maybe that temple can provide some answers,” she said, pointing up at the large structure towering over the forest.
Sharp fear pierced her heart, eroding the sense of awe that had stuck with her since they crash landed. What if everyone had died? What if the crusades of the high Middle Ages had been fought using nuclear weapons and humanity had extinguished itself a thousand years before they’d even faced their alien foe? She shuddered at the thought that their efforts had been in vain, to come so close and then see everything destroyed by the darker nature of man.
They meandered through the decayed ruins of the once beautiful city, each of them stopping to marvel at sights that caught their eye. Marble statues and frescos still adorned many of the buildings, but vines and trees had torn many of them down.
“At least we don’t have any alien invaders trying to kill us here,” Melinda said, trying to cheer everyone up.
“No, but maybe they’re hiding,” Jeff joked.
“Ready to jump out and eat us, right, Jeff?” Holly added.
They eventually left the narrow streets and emerged into a broad courtyard fronting the temple. In the center was a large towering statue of a man gazing out onto the city. It was partially covered in vines and dulled gray from years of exposure to the elements.
They stepped closer, and Holly’s jaw dropped when she saw who it was, a sinking feeling punching her in the gut.
“Oh my God,” she said in disbelief. “It’s Mattie Tedrow.”
Chapter 44
Noon, Early Spring, 331 BC
Babylon
Paulson struggled to get to his feet, his body still reeling from the missile explosion. If he was going to die, then he wanted to go out standing. The masked attacker stood in front of him, rifle pointed at his head. This was it.
Paulson glared at his attacker, not wanting to give the man the satisfaction of turning away, but still he saw the twitch that preceded the squeeze of the trigger. At the same moment, a solid figure hit the man from the side. A scorching burst of plasma streamed out of the rifle and over Paulson’s head, narrowly missing him.
He immediately recognized the chubby body of his savior—Howard Nichols. He was now wrestling with the masked attacker, struggling for control of the gun. Paulson launched himself forward.
“Gretchen, run!”
She tried to move, but her feet and hands were securely tied. Paulson looked for his weapons, but they were too far away and he wouldn’t be able to get a clear shot as Nichols and the traitor wrestled in the grass. He needed to get closer to help Nichols.
Paulson was just a few feet away when the attacker wrested himself free from Nichols’s grasp and rose to his knees. He fired the rifle once, at point blank range, right into Nichols’s chest before Paulson could get there. The plasma pierced the poor man’s body, leaving a burning, gaping hole.
Paulson had no time to think, his heart racing as old muscles dredged up training from decades ago. He was close enough now and reached out and grabbed the weapon as the masked assailant tried to turn toward him. The men struggled for control. Paulson could feel himself losing his grip on the rifle and reacted instinctively, knowing full well if he lost the weapon, his life was lost. He used all his strength to pull the gun up to his mouth, and then he bit down on the attacker’s fingers. Tendons snapped and bone broke as warm blood squirted out and poured into his mouth.
The attacker wailed in agony and lost his grip on the rifle. Paulson yanked it away, and both men fell backwards. A bloody severed finger lay in Paulson’s mouth like a raw sausage. He spat it out before the thought of it made him vomit.
He quickly flipped the rifle around and leveled it at the killer. At humanity’s killer, if they couldn’t stop him.
But his opponent was too fast. Before Paulson could take aim and end the battle, the man had grabbed Gretchen and held a knife to her throat.
“Stay back or I slit her throat!”
“Let her go,” Paulson said calmly.
“Throw your weapon over here, then I’ll think about it.”
Paulson glanced over at the others. Several prisoners had regained consciousness and were attempting to flee into the forest, hands bound behind them. Mattie and Claire were both still down, unmoving.
Paulson knew he couldn’t get a clean shot with the plasma rifle. It was too powerful and not very precise. Firing such a weapon would certainly kill both the attacker and his wife. But if he threw it over, the attacker would kill them anyway. He needed to stall and pray that reinforcements would arrive.
“Okay, okay, just take it easy.”
Paulson calmly threw the rifle into the rich, dark jungle soil on the other side of Gretchen. It was far enough away that the masked man would have to move toward it and perhaps loosen his grip on Gretchen. The man edged forward, taking the bait.
Paulson looked into his wife’s eyes, hoping she understood what he wanted her to do. The man held her tight, knife digging into her throat. He pulled her down with him as he squatted for the gun. He let go, just for a second, as he reached out for the rifle. That was all they needed. Paulson nodded once, still staring into Gretchen’s tearful eyes. She reached up with her bound hands to push the knife away from her throat, leaning away at the same time.
Paulson was already reaching to his side, pulling out his own knife. It was the same blade he’d used as a Navy SEAL all those years ago to kill the evil Chen creature. In one fluid motion he threw the knife, aiming for the traitor’s head.
But his aim was off.
Instead of striking the man dead center of his mask, the knife tore through the top of Gretchen’s shoulder, cutting through her flesh before it embedded in the attacker’s upper chest.
They both wailed in pain, and the man momentarily lost his grip on Gretchen and dropped his knife. Paulson jumped, his old legs already pushed to their limit. He managed to push between Gretchen and the attacker and got on top of the man. Summoning his remaining strength to save his wife, he jammed his knife deep and then forced all his weight on it, pushing it even further into the assailant’s shoulder. The man screamed out it agony. Paulson twisted the handle as the attacker feebly tried to buck him off. He could feel the muscles and tendons snapping as the blade dug into the man’s flesh.
In defense, the attacker reached up with both hands and jabbed his thumbs into Paulson’s eye sockets. The pain was intense, and streaks of lightning pierced his vision. He dropped the knife to grab the man’s wrists, pulling his hands away from his skull.
A sudden blast of plasma flew over their heads, plowing into a palm tree just behind them and bringing a storm of branches and leaves down on them. Both men stopped fighting to look up.
Gretchen was standing in front of them holding the plasma rifle. Her shoulder was bleeding heavily, and she was shaking.
“Th-th-that’s it,” she stammered. “D-don’t move.”
Both men got to their feet, and Paulson stared at Gretchen in shock.
Then, to his incredible relief, he heard men giving orders behind them in the forest. Reinforcements had finally arrived. Three soldiers burst out of the trees, weapons trained on the masked assailant. He raised one arm as the soldiers surrounded him, red dots from laser sights popping up on his chest. His other arm dangled by his side, incapacitated by the knife still embedded in his shoulder.
It was over. Please, God, let him be the last one.
Paulson needed to know who this killer was. Needed to know the identity of the man who would not only threaten Gretchen, but jeopardize the fate of humanity.
He reached out and snatched off the mask.
Glaring back at him, disgust and anger in his eyes, was Dr. Abraham Conner.
Chapter 45
10:00 a.m. Local Time, January 17, 2038
Hillah, Iraq
Holly stared up at the ancient statue of Mattie Tedrow with Jeff and Melinda by her side. It towered over them on a pedestal eight feet high. The actual statue had to be at least fifteen feet tall. Mattie was wearing some type of body armor and holding a spear in one hand and a strange pistol in the other. The statue depicted a man much older than the Mattie they’d last seen less than two hours ago. He looked to be in his mid-fifties and every bit the conquering ruler.
Melinda rubbed her hand along the bottom of the statue, gently touching its feet.
“Looks like Colonel Tedrow found a place for himself in the distant past,” Holly said.
The inscription at the base of the statue had long been worn down from hundreds of years of exposure to the elements, but Holly could make out some of the words.
“I can’t read most of this cuneiform-hybrid language,” she said, fingering the inscription. “But I do see where Mattie is referred to as King Mathew.”
“Great,” Jeff said, “I knew it was a bad idea to send a supersoldier with an alien nanovirus in his bloodstream back into the past. It’d be no surprise to me to find he’d been worshiped as a god.”
“Well, if he was their god, then who is that in the temple?”
Melinda pointed to the large marble-columned building at the far end of the broad open square. A statue stood just inside the structure, hidden from view by the late morning shadows.
“I don’t know,” Holly said. “But let’s find out.”
She walked past Mattie’s statue and toward the temple and began climbing the stairs to the entrance. The building looked a lot like the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C.—two flights of stairs leading up to a dozen ornate—and giant—white marble pillars that held the beautifully carved roof in place.
Inside, a massive twenty-foot-high statue sat on a chair atop an oblong pedestal.
It was Claire.
She was sitting comfortably, gazing down at them in a contemplative manner.
“Looks like someone else found a place for herself,” Jeff said.
“Itself,” Holly corrected.
She wondered what sort of setup Mattie and Claire had in the past. Were they both considered gods? Did they rule for centuries?
“Where’s all the new technology?” Melinda asked, obviously frustrated with this search through old ruins.
Holly turned toward her, only now feeling Melinda’s grief. Of course she was mourning Mattie—to her he’d been alive only a few hours ago, and now she discovered not only that he’d lived a lifetime apart from her, but that he was long dead and she’d never see him again.
Before she could reach out to the other woman, Melinda waved an arm and said, “This looks like some ancient Greek ruin, not the product of a technologically advanced society.”
Holly eyed the inscription on the shrine to Claire.
“You’re right,” she said. “If they even partially accomplished their mission, there should be some evidence of a modern society here.” And they must have succeeded. There was no sign of nanobots or rooted cities or the Vorsh.
She wiped away some of the grime from one of the inscriptions and read the words written there. Then she shivered.
“Look at this, Jeff. Oh God, look. Part of it is in English. It says, ‘This nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom. And government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.’ ”
“Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address,” Jeff said. “It seems that they tried to adopt democratic principles.”
“I was worried that this was a temple to the god Claire,” Melinda said.
Holly tipped her head back to focus on the face of the seated figure staring firmly down at them.
“It still could very well be.”
Melinda walked deeper into the building, and Jeff and Holly followed. On the walls around the statue of Claire they found depictions of Mattie in various war-like poses. Several smaller life-sized statues carved into the walls showed Mattie and Claire together, standing in front of a large crowd. One statute showed a younger version of Mattie with a group of women gathered around his legs, clinging and reaching up to him seemingly in worship.
“Fucking groupies,” Melinda snorted, rearing back and kicking the statue.
It shook, and a small crack formed at the point of impact and quickly moved up the entire side of the statue. Mattie’s head tilted ever so slightly, then fell.
Just before it hit the ground, it stopped, frozen in midair.
“What the hell?” Jeff exclaimed, moving closer.
Suddenly a man appeared out of nowhere in front of them. He literally appeared out of nothing.
“Greetings, patrons,” he said in English. “Please refrain from damaging the relics in the memorial. If you need assistance, please initiate your neural connections.”
Mattie's head floated for a second before moving back to the top of the statue. A red light glowed where the head connected to the neck, as some mechanism sealed it back in place.
Holly approached the man. He was Caucasian, exceptionally tall with short blond hair and blue eyes, and in his mid-thirties. He wore a pleasant smile, even while scolding them. Yet something wasn’t quite right about him. Holly reached out to touch him and sure enough, her finger passed through his chest.
A hologram—just as she thought.
“Our neural connections are not functioning. Can you help us, please?” she asked the holographic projection.
A green light flashed out from the ceiling, scanning each of them.
“You are nonregistered humans. Please remain here. The authorities will arrive soon.”
Holly didn’t like the sound of that.
“Come on,” Jeff said, waving his arm for Holly and Melinda to follow him. “We need to find out more about where the hell we are before we get taken in by the authorities.”
Holly certainly agreed with that.
They jogged out of the memorial, down the marble steps, and out into the courtyard. Before they could get back into the narrow streets of the ancient city, a moving object appeared in the sky overhead.
It came in fast and hard and landed right near Mattie’s statue in the middle of the courtyard. It was a craft of some kind. The three of them stopped running, but moved close together.
Holly’s first instinct was to run from the strange craft, but if they wanted to find out what had happened over the last two thousand years, then they needed to show courage. Jeff gestured for Holly and Melinda to stand behind him, and he walked forward to greet whoever was going to come out.
A side hatch opened, and a huge, powerful creature emerged, galloping toward them.
Dear God, no.
Holly screamed, “It’s a Vorsh! One of the alien invaders! Run!”
Chapter 46
Two Days After the Time Jump
Morning, Early Spring, 331 BC
Babylon
Paulson walked along the perimeter of the encampment on a hill overlooking the banks of the Euphrates, surveying his people at work. They were busy erecting more tents, and fortifying the perimeter defenses. Everyone had a lot to do to prepare for their upcoming meeting with the Macedonian conqueror, Alexander the Great. He was still amazed that they were actually in the past. The time jump worked, and they had a chance to change the fate of man, to bend the river of time. But much work lay before them.
Before any of that though they needed to take time and remember the fallen. He was on his way now to a memorial service for those they'd personally lost and for the billions they left behind in a future he hoped would never come to pass.
They’d taken heavy casualties—twenty five dead, another forty injured, including many family members. Thank God his family was safe, even Gretchen, who was recovering from his errant knife throw. They still had enough specialists and generalists to complete their mission, or so he hoped.
As for the traitors, he was still deciding what to do with them. He was unsure whether a trial would be feasible or not. They had no jail here, and if he chose some type of banishment, they’d simply come back and try again to stop him. Perhaps the only solution would be a wartime execution by firing squad. Until he made his final decision, they were holding all of them, bound, in a heavily guarded tent.
Mattie approached through the tall grass. His devastating wounds had already healed. Paulson wondered if they’d ever harness—hell, if they’d ever understand—the power of the nano technology that enabled Mattie to heal and that gave him his extraordinary strength and agility.
“Are you ready, sir?”
“Yeah, Mattie, let’s do this.”
Paulson and Mattie walked over to the gathering of over two hundred people. Graves had already been dug and the bodies lay draped in cloth over to the side. Among those was Howard Nichols. The man he'd thought was a traitor who ended up saving not only his life, but Gretchen's. His sacrifice probably saved the mission as well. He was an unexpected hero whom Paulson would never forget.
Grieving survivors sobbed in the audience as Paulson stood before them. He swallowed a lump in his throat and held back his tears as he began his speech.
"We've all made sacrifices and lost so much these last few days. The tragedy that has befallen us is the greatest that humanity has ever faced. Never in our history have we been faced with our own extinction. Never before have we faced a foe so advanced, so beyond our capabilities that we are like children trying to fight them. Never before have we faced an opponent without compassion, without remorse, whose only goal—only wish—is to kill us all."
Paulson paused to survey the crowd. Despair and anger filled their faces as the sobbing spread.
"But we are still here. We are still fighting. And there is still hope. Hope for the future of all of mankind. These great men and women have given their lives so that the human race may survive. Let us honor their memory by pushing forward, by following through with our mission and changing the world as no other group in human history has done before. Their sacrifice will not be in vain. We will survive. We will not wither away but thrive. We will be remembered throughout all of history, for we are humanity's final hope. We are the future."
A fresh breeze struck him in his face and rustled the tall grass around them. Hope begin to fill the eyes of the people gathered. Paulson could sense their renewed vigor. His words were creating a spark, reigniting their passion for survival.
"And remember this. The future can be changed. We control our destiny and the tide of human civilization. It is within our power to make this world a better place, to right the wrongs of the ages, to take the hands of those around us and pull them up into a better world. And when the time comes to meet our foe, we will do so on equal footing. When we stare into the eyes of the enemy across the battlefield of time they will rue the moment they ever set foot on our planet. Because together we will drive them back into the darkness of space from which they came. This is our planet! Our Earth! And no one will take it from us!"
The crowd cheered and hands rose into the air, the sadness and despair slowly giving way to a glimmer of hope, and motivation to move forward. A chant begin to stir in the crowd.
"Our Earth. Our Earth! Our Earth!"
It rose louder, a growing crescendo as all voices joined in.
"Our Earth!" Paulson yelled, his deep voice carrying above the others.
They had a goal now, a rally cry. A brightness grew in his heart, a fire filling him with strength.
His speech was done. The people were with him.
He stepped over to the side to stand beside Mattie and several other military personnel. The army chaplain said some last remarks over the bodies as they were slowly lowered into their final resting places. Three members of a US Army rifle party fired in unison—a three volley salute to the dead. Paulson shuddered as each shot exploded. He'd seen too much death in his lifetime. More than any man should have to bear witness to.
Soon the funeral was done. Paulson personally spoke with each person in attendance. Many he knew, others he was meeting for the first time. Over the coming years he knew would get to know them all very well.
After it was all done, he pulled Mattie off to the side.
"Colonel Tedrow, we have some unfinished business to take care of. Follow me."
With so much going on around them, trying to treat the injured and set up a secure camp, they hadn’t had time yet to properly interrogate the prisoners.
The tent where they were holding the criminals was outside the main camp, near the palm forest. The two soldiers stationed at it snapped to attention and saluted Paulson and Mattie as they approached.
As they were about to enter, Claire emerged from the forest with a basket of fruits. She was wearing a flowing silk robe, white, and looked very much like an ancient Greek priestess. She’d already completed repairs on her android frame and appeared to be back to normal physically. Mentally, so far, she’d given him no indication that anything was amiss or that she still harbored what he assumed were feelings for him. Ironically, android women were just as confusing to him as real women.
“This forest is full of edible fruits and abundant game,” Claire said, proudly holding her basket out. “There is enough here to sustain us until we begin harvesting our own crops.”
“Thank you, Claire, but we have some loose ends to tie up first.”
She set her basket outside the tent and nodded. “Of course.”
She opened the flap to the tent, walked in, and he and Mattie followed.
Inside were the six main perpetrators and six other soldiers who’d followed them. All were bound in heavy chains, hand and foot. A scout team had purchased the chains from a slave merchant at one of the markets in Babylon.
“Line them up,” Paulson said to Mattie. “We’ll get right down to business.”
Claire could track the subtlest of facial movements and monitor blood pressure and other vital signs. Those skills made her the perfect lie detector, one Paulson planned to use ruthlessly on the captives.
Paulson stood in front of the group, and they all glared up at him, clearly incensed over their predicament.
Congressman Lavar Winchell lifted his head from prayer.
“I beg you to abandon this mission, Buddy, please. For the sake of Christ and all of humankind.”
Tears were streaming down his face.
Paulson stood in front of him, looking down on his sorrow-filled face. This group was motivated by their intense beliefs and thought they were doing the right thing in the name of God. But over the course of human history, how many others had thought the same? How many men and women had been slaughtered in the name of God?
“God gave us free will, and I’m using my free will to save humanity,” Paulson told him. “I will do everything in my power to see that this mission succeeds. Nothing will stand in my way.”
With Diaz left behind in the future, running for his life, Paulson was in charge. At some point they would have elections, but for now he was the leader.
He turned and strode to Dr. Abe Conner. His cross, the means of his own salvation so many years ago, shifted against his chest when he raised his head.
“And you, Dr. Conner. I know of your strong faith, but do you think any of this, any single action of yours, honors Victoria’s memory? That she’d be proud of your deeds?”
Conner jumped to his feet and lunged at him with surprising speed. Before Paulson could react, Conner slammed his forehead into his nose. Bright flashes shot through his vision, pain streaked into his neck, and his nose immediately started bleeding.
Mattie jumped between them and threw Conner to the ground.
Paulson bent over and held his broken nose, already throbbing, and tried to stop the fountain of blood pouring from it.
“Don’t ever say her name again!” Conner spat out in anger.
Paulson stood upright, still squeezing his nose. It’d been broken before, so this wasn’t new to him; he’d push through the pain. Yet as he thought about Conner holding a knife at Gretchen’s throat, anger welled inside him. A rage that had been building for a long time, suppressed by years of determined focus, finally exploded from him.
He reached out and grabbed Conner by his throat, drawing his knife at nearly the same instant.
“You threaten to kill my wife, you sabotage this entire mission, intending to sentence the human race to death. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t cut your throat right now.”
“Do it!” Conner screamed, his eyes wide with fury and fanatic vehemence. “I’ve failed God, and I’ve failed my wife. I don’t deserve to live.”
Paulson tightened his grip around the knife handle. A tiny trickle of blood dripped from where the tip touched Conner’s neck. Mattie placed his hand on Paulson’s arm and shook his head.
“Sir, we need answers from him. There may be others out there still working in the shadows.”
Mattie was right. He would never be able to sleep at night knowing there might be more saboteurs in their midst.
“Start talking, Conner. How were you able to do this?”
Conner lips parted into a crazed smile as Paulson still held him tight, knife at his throat.
“Your security systems at Chronos Two were a joke. A child could’ve hacked them. Once everyone decided to get on board with the plan, we were able to move forward very quickly. The general planned the diversion, and men loyal to him executed the attack. I planned the time jump so that we would arrive here three days before you. The field was a perfect spot for your slaughter. And we would have succeeded if these abominations hadn’t shown up.”
Conner glared at Mattie and Claire.
“And what then?” Claire asked the obvious question. “You would still be here in the past, interacting with ancient civilizations, disrupting the timeline.”
“We simply planned to find a remote area and live out our days in peace, away from everyone,” Lenore said from the other side of the tent.
“Our minimal actions would’ve had very little effect on the overall timeline,” Conner added. “If some archeologist found shell casings or other evidence of our presence in the distant future, so what? No one would believe him.”
It was a reasonable plan for something put together so hastily at the last minute. And they nearly succeeded. Paulson and the others should consider themselves lucky to be alive, despite the casualties they’d taken.
“So that was this attack. I assume this unholy cabal was also responsible for the bombing of Chronos One.”
Several of the prisoners shook their heads. Two or three said that they’d never been to or even heard of Chronos One.
“Don’t give me that crap,” Paulson spat out. “Who else could’ve done it?”
“We barely had time to mount this assault and get through the vortex,” Senator Gordon said, his chains rattling as he shifted. “We know nothing about any attack on Chronos One.”
“I didn’t even know there was another base,” Winchell said.
Paulson stood, removing the knife from Conner’s throat. Now he was confused. He stepped back and surveyed the group, searching for explanations.
Claire said, “Conner we know that you were the one that received the signal from the future com-link.”
She'd told Paulson that information yesterday. Conner was the one she’d been trying to warn them about before they jumped.
“We’re back to you again, Conner,” Paulson said, pushing close to the scientist. “What did the message say?”
“Go fuck yourself.”
Paulson squatted to look Conner in the eye.
“Claire can extract the data using various invasive techniques. You won’t like them, and they could very well leave you drinking through a straw for the rest of your life, which will be very difficult since there are no straws in this world.”
Conner gritted his teeth, but didn’t say a word.
“Very well then. Claire.”
“Don’t let that ungodly thing touch me!” Conner cried out. “I’ll tell you my entire story. But I want something in return.”
His capitulation surprised Paulson. He thought for sure they would need to probe Conner’s mind to get anything out of him. His promise could be a ruse; Conner was certainly resourceful and cunning. And obviously skilled at hiding his intentions.
“You’re in no position to bargain.”
“But I am, Mr. Vice President. Do you want to constantly be looking over your shoulder, wondering if someone is going to kill you or sabotage this operation? You have enough to worry about here without that.”
Paulson definitely did not want to be forever searching the shadows for saboteurs. If traitors lurked, stalking them, he wanted to know about them. He’d have to rely on Claire to know whether or not Conner was conning him.
“Claire, is he telling the truth?”
She stepped forward, inches away from Conner, grabbed his squirming wrist, and peered intently into his eyes.
“Yes. With an accuracy of ninety-eight percent.”
Paulson nodded. “Okay, Conner, you have my interest. What do you want?”
He was sure Conner would ask for his freedom, or for freedom or leniency for his co-conspirators. That, however, was completely off the table. He would never allow them to go unpunished.
“I want to leave a message in a time capsule for my wife. I don’t care what you do with me, but I want to try to save her in the future.”
Well, that was certainly a surprise.
“But how would you do that? The timeline will change and you have no way of knowing if she’ll even be born, much less that she’ll get a message from twenty-three hundred years in the past.”
Conner sighed, and all the blood, all the life, drained from his face, leaving him looking empty and desolate. Paulson had no idea he’d carried around such feelings for his long dead wife for all these years. Yet he did know that when a man truly loved, his beloved became part of his soul. He felt the same way about Gretchen.
“I have to at least try. I brought a device with me that will preserve my message for thousands of years, one only able to be opened with her DNA signature. I’d planned to place the device in Egypt, in a chamber in one of the pyramids, a chamber that won’t be found until close to the time of her birth.”
Paulson knew Victoria getting such a message was the longest of long shots, but he was willing to acquiesce. He had nothing to lose to such a request.
“I agree, provided we inspect the device and message before they are sealed away.”
The last thing they needed was Conner placing some kind of bomb in the pyramids.
“Agreed.”
“Okay then, Conner, tell us what you did,” Paulson said.
“Can I sit, please?”
Mattie dragged Conner off the floor and sat him on one of the nearby stools, his chains hanging behind him.
“Four days ago, in our timeline, I received a message telling me to get out. To get out fast.”
He blinked up at Paulson.
“And that’s just what I did.”
Chapter 47
Afternoon, Early Spring, 331 BC
Babylon
“What?” Paulson asked. “Who told you to leave?”
Conner closed his eyes and dropped his head. “Let me do this in order . . .” He sighed a couple of times, then straightened his spine, lifting his head.
“Four days ago I was sitting in the cafeteria at Chronos One, having a late night snack with Holly Scarborough,” he said, looking up at them with red, tired eyes. “There I received a coded message. It came from a com-link data drive that had recently come through the vortex from the future. The message simply said, ‘Go to the surface. Something is waiting for you there. Tell no one. More instructions to follow. You have five minutes, thirty-eight seconds.’ “
Conner shifted his weight and pushed up even straighter.
“So I did what the message said. I left the base.”
“You routinely obey any message that comes in over your com-line?” Paulson asked. “Come on, you can do better than that, Doctor.”
“I know how that sounds, but it’s the truth. Normally I would’ve been skeptical, tried to investigate, but the clock kept ticking off the seconds, and quite frankly, I was scared. It was E-Day after all, not your typical boring day at the office.”
“So you left all those people to die!” Mattie yelled out, kicking over an empty stool.
Paulson thrust out his arm, commanding Mattie to control his temper.
“I had no idea a nuclear bomb was going to come through,” Conner said, eyes wide. “You have to believe me. I thought maybe a package or something was waiting for me on the surface.”
Claire nodded as she stared intently at Conner. Her lie detection algorithms were incredible accurate.
Conner continued his story, seemingly distraught over the people he’d left to die.
“Just before I left the base, I received a large amount of data on my portable. Then another message came through telling me to go Holloman Air Force Base and await instructions. I didn’t even find out about the attack on Chronos until after I was already at the base.”
Claire nodded again, indicating he was telling the truth.
“It was there that I was able to start reviewing the information I received at Chronos. It turns out that the drive had been sent back in time from several months in the future. And it was sent by another version of me.”
Paulson and Mattie both raised their eyebrows. Claire showed no reaction.
“You’re telling us a future you sent the nuclear bomb back in time, destroyed Chronos, and killed thousands?” Paulson felt like taking his knife to the scientist’s throat again.
“Yes, that’s the truth.”
"And how the hell was future you able to get a nuclear bomb smuggled into one of the most secure bases in the world?" Paulson asked.
"He didn't provide me with a blueprint of how he did it, but he had help of course, just like I did here. In his future remnants of the US and Russian militaries were hiding at Chronos One. They'd planned to use the old nuclear warhead in a last ditch attack against the alien invaders. The other Conner and his military friends were able to take that weapon and send it back in time to prevent a long jump team from going back into the past."
It seemed far-fetched, but in the chaos at the end of the world crazy things can happen as Paulson had seen for himself.
Claire nodded again and asked, “And what about the second message, the one sent to Dr. Howard Nichols?”
Conner frowned. “Howard was a decoy. Future me knew you’d be investigating the attack and wanted to throw you off the trail.”
Paulson shifted his weight to the other leg. What he was saying certainly made sense. Conner was not only a brilliant scientist, but apparently a strategic genius as well.
“So what happened in this other timeline to turn you into a homicidal maniac?” Mattie asked.
Conner simply shrugged, rattling his chains.
“The same thing that happened to me in my own timeline. Only the other me had full knowledge of your plans. He knew that a highly advanced alien invasion force was behind the E-Day attack. He knew mankind would be annihilated. And he told me about your plan to change the timeline and accelerate the technological progress of humanity. The future me knew this went against God’s will and that we were playing with forces we should never have accessed. I agreed with him.”
Paulson knew of Conner’s devout religious beliefs, so his revelation came as no surprise. But all of the twisted timelines were confusing.
He turned to Claire.
"So if Conner is here in the past with us now, then he never would've placed a bomb in Chronos One, right? And none of us should be here?"
"Not necessarily," she replied. "It all goes back to timeline negation theory, first proposed by Holly Scarborough. It's extremely complex, dealing with time travel paradoxes. Basically what happened is that when the other Conner sent the bomb back to destroy the base, he also destroyed his timeline. The Conner we have here went on a different path, in the timeline we lived in the future. And now that we are in the past, everything in the previous timeline will change once again."
"Yes, hopefully for the better," Paulson added still not completely grasping the complexities of time travel theory.
He turned back to Conner. "And what else did you and the other future you do?"
“To stop you from succeeding, this other me had already secretly sent information back in time to various religious groups, like the Coptic Christians, who were the ones that tried to kill the survivors coming out of Chronos One.”
Paulson frowned and nodded, watching the pieces come together.
“They also tried to assassinate you in Iraq before you could even build Chronos Two.”
Paulson raised his eyebrows. So that explained the assassination attempt on him all those years ago.
“But none of it worked, so the other me chose to destroy the Chronos One base. He knew once that was done, the timeline would be changed to such an extent that he would no longer exist, according to timeline negation theory, as Claire just explained to you. But the future me also knew there was another secret base, Chronos Two, somewhere in Iraq. He couldn't do anything about that base though.”
“So it was up to you to find and sabotage Chronos Two?” Paulson asked.
“Yes, which turned out to be much more difficult than I imagined. It was too well fortified, and I had no time to plan before you undertook your long jump into the past.”
“But then Senator Gordon and his crew came along?” Mattie asked.
“Yes, the timing was perfect. The senator approached me with his plan and after that, everything fell into place.”
“So there are no other saboteurs or plots working against us?” Paulson asked.
“None that I know of,” Conner said dejectedly. “It seems you’ve won.”
“Good,” Paulson said, relieved to finally hear Conner say those words. “We’re here and we’re going to do our best to succeed. Where it all takes us is anyone’s guess.”
Paulson looked toward the side of the tent, picturing the world beyond the canvas, a new world unlike their own, one still filled with hope and possibilities. Maybe it was an absurd whim, but he felt the need to share that hope with Conner.
“Dr. Conner, I want you to know that I’m a religious man myself. I believe that God would want us to do everything we can to save ourselves. He gave us you and Holly and all the others who made time travel possible, just as he always provided knowledge and answers when we needed them throughout our history.”
Conner’s head dropped to his chest, but he didn’t speak.
Paulson sighed. “As for Jesus, I believe he will be born no matter what we do. God certainly wouldn’t be thwarted by the might of the Vorsh or the proclivities of humans, would he?”
“I pray that you’re right,” Conner said. Tears streaked down his face when he added, “But what if you’re not?”
Paulson turned away. He had a lot of work to do, and they had a long road ahead of them.
“Only time will tell.”
Paulson pushed his way out of the tent.
Time would tell—fixed yet flexible time, so long the whip driving them—might well prove their salvation. He could already feel the river of time bending, turning toward new lands, new events, new heroes and villains as the course of history changed with their arrival in 331 B.C. He was at the tiller of a sailboat riding this river, pulled by the currents ever forward, yet able to control his destiny and the destiny of all humanity.
The vast and endless future spread out before him. Paulson took a deep breath of fresh air, filling his lungs as his heart filled with hope once again.
The slate was finally clear.
They could write their own future.
Chapter 48
11:00 a.m. Local Time, January 17, 2038
Hillah, Iraq
Jeff held his arm up to defend himself as the alien beast towered over him, its long bear-like snout and fangs dripping saliva as it anticipated eating his head. But instead of lunging and taking a bite out of his flesh, the creature spoke.
“Greetings, citizens. I’m Joe Smith with Earth Domestic Security. I was signaled by the AI that you are unregistered. I also see that your neural nets are not functioning. Can you please provide an explanation?”
The creature spoke in a deep voice, spit flying from its snout.
Jeff couldn’t answer, had no idea what to say, and wasn’t sure he could even move. He was only slightly relieved when the creature backed away and said, “I’m still not great at reading human emotions, but my AI is telling me you are terrified, as if you’ve never seen a Vorsh before. Is that true?”
No one said a word.
Joe Smith looked away for a second, but then turned immediately back. Jeff shifted to his left to keep a curious Holly firmly behind him.
“I’ve signaled for someone to assist you. They will arrive momentarily.”
Seconds later another craft burst out of the sky and settled beside the first. This time when the door opened, a human emerged.
At least she was mostly human.
The woman who stepped out had to be over seven feet tall, with a long, lean, and muscular physique. She wore a bodysuit that moved and shimmered as she walked. Her face was large, in keeping with her size, and flatter than any Jeff had seen before, and her eyes were larger as well. Her forehead was long and her cranium slightly elongated. She gracefully walked up to Joe Smith. They looked at each other, then the alien creature climbed back into his craft and flew off.
The human female turned back to Jeff, Holly, and Melinda.
“I’m sorry if his appearance startled you. My name is Miora.”
She spoke in a magically melodic voice in an unfamiliar accent, yet her English was perfectly clear.
“You’ll have to forgive the tone of my old English. It’s been a while since I’ve needed to speak, and I’ve never spoken this ancient dialect before.”
She didn’t normally speak? Did she use only com-links? “That’s okay, Miora,” Jeff told her. “We can understand you perfectly.” Even if he couldn’t understand her being so comfortable around the Vorsh.
She smiled. “Excellent. We detected the flash of a temporal bubble popping in this sector four hours sixteen minutes ago, but it was so short we decided not to investigate. Apparently that decision was wrong. I assume that you three emerged from the bubble?”
She turned her head at odd angles and blinked her gigantic eyes as she spoke.
“Yes,” Jeff said. “Our . . . our tank, what we used to transport ourselves, fell from the sky, and the temporal bubble generator was destroyed.”
“A surveillance bot just found the tank. Downloading data from its mainframe now. Interesting. Very interesting.”
Miora’s eyes widened.
“To date we’ve retrieved six temporal bubbles and thirty survivors total, but none have come from a timeline as . . . as radical as yours.”
She looked away again, and her eyes darted back and forth.
“It seems that your timeline is the closest we’ve found to the original unaltered alpha timeline. It’s amazing you survived and are actually standing here before me.”
He certainly agreed with her there.
"We weren't just close to it, we lived it," Jeff said remembering the horror and tragedy that they'd just been through.
"That you did," Miora replied. "And you have my deepest sympathies."
Jeff immediately started wondering about other timelines and temporal bubbles. He turned to Holly, but she and Melinda had already stepped forward. And Holly, as always, was ready with her own questions.
“Can you tell us what happened?” she asked. “Was Joe Smith one of the aliens that slaughtered us? Did we defeat them?”
Miora smiled again.
“I don’t need to tell you my dear—I can show you. Have a seat.”
They all sat, Jeff holding Holly’s hand, and Miora stood over them, hands stretched out like one of the giant statues surrounding them in the ruins.
Jeff felt the warm marble under him as he sat at the base of the Mattie statue, then the physical world around him faded.
Miora’s disembodied voice echoed in his head as a new scene came into focus.
“Let’s start at the beginning: two thousand three hundred and sixty-seven years ago, a team of time travelers landed in the past. We now designate this as year zero on our calendars.”
The scene changed, showing Paulson, Mattie, Claire, and others walking up to an ancient walled city with a giant tower rising from the center of it.
Jeff heard Melinda gasp before covering the sound with embarrassed laughter, the kind with shaky tears behind it. He felt Holly lean away and guessed she was grabbing Melinda’s hand.
“They entered Babylon and met with Alexander the Great after he took over the city.”
Jeff watched Paulson shake hands with a young, muscular, blond Alexander and present him with an array of gifts including gold jewelry and ancient weapons.
“Posing as foreigners from a far-off land, these time travelers were able to forge a strong partnership with Alexander. As their ties grew, General Paulson was able to use advanced weapons from the future to help Alexander conquer all of India and the Arabian Peninsula, creating the largest empire in history. Through the help of new telegraph communication lines and a strong central government, Alexander was able to manage this vast empire from his seat of power in Babylon. Trade followed and peace and prosperity flourished everywhere.”
Jeff saw citizens of the new empire walking along well-paved roads as telegraph lines were raised. New cities sprang up along trade routes, and people looked healthy, happy, and prosperous.
“New forms of medicine were introduced, greatly reducing the infant mortality rate. The population exploded in the empire. Efficient means of food production and crops were introduced as well, and famine quickly became a worry of the past. Currency and banking systems were developed to provide order for the abundant and growing commerce.”
Jeff watched in awe as great cities grew and prospered, filled with markets selling a wide variety of goods. Sounds of the hustle and bustle of commerce centers and construction filled the air.
“Engineers from the future helped build the cities to operate with efficiency. Sewer and trash removal systems were established to ensure diseases were kept in check. Each city and territory had a regional governor appointed by Alexander, and order was maintained by a strong army loyal to him.”
A mature Alexander, much older than he’d been in their timeline, stood over a map of his territory, giving orders to distinguished men who must’ve been governors. Paulson, Mattie, Claire, and several others Jeff recognized stood beside him, providing their input as well.
“All citizens were given free education. Literacy rates reached higher than seventy percent. A common language, English, was taught across the land.”
Schoolchildren held up their hands, actively engaged in learning.
Shivers tingled through Jeff. To see what they’d achieved . . . It was incredible.
“When Alexander passed away at ninety-seven, he’d expanded his empire into China and integrated the early Roman republic and Carthage into the fold. Charles Paulson was designated his successor. King Paulson ruled for two decades, until his death, further expanding upon Alexander’s principles.”
The scene changed to a grand funeral procession for Buddy Paulson. Jeff calculated that the old man must’ve been 166 years old when he died. Amazing. The anti-aging treatments and nano-healing technology his company developed must’ve worked, even beyond his wildest dreams. He grew lightheaded imagining what they’d achieved using some of his creations.
“After Paulson’s death, King Mathew the First took over, and Clairvoyant became his Queen.”
Melinda laughed again, this time loudly and with recognizable humor. Even Holly chuckled. Mattie as king of the world with an android from the future as his wife. It was almost too ridiculous to believe if it hadn't already happened.
“King Mathew immediately instituted a new form of government, called democracy. This increased citizen input and greatly reduced the number of uprisings among far-flung republics.”
The image shifted to a great hall crowded with men and women engaged in debate. King Mathew stood in the middle of the group on a circular platform, Claire beside him.
“King Mathew designated the new republic as the United States and continued its expansion, moving north into Gallia, Hispania, and Germania. Many other peoples chose to join the United States after seeing the prosperity bestowed upon the citizens and the advanced weapons they would be facing if they chose to go to war against Mathew’s republic.”
Men clad in sheepskins and bearded barbarians all laid down their weapons in front of the organized armies of the Republic of the United States, who were now carrying assault rifles.
“Wise choice,” Holly whispered.
“After fifty years of rule, Mathew chose to step down and assume an advisory role. The first man elected to hold the office of president was Hannibal, a Punic Carthaginian General. Presidents were elected for a term of ten years, after which they could not seek re-election. This was strictly enforced by the constitution of the land as well as by Queen Clairvoyant, who assumed the role of advisor.”
Images of people walking to ballot stations and casting their votes flashed in front of Jeff.
“With the republic now stable and prosperous, facing no new threats either internally or externally, the world entered a Golden Age. Technology advanced at an outstanding pace. Humanity spread across the globe using ocean-traversing ships and even early airships. The population continued to expand as the republic established colonies and then cities in all corners of the world. Factories were built, and advanced materials smelted from the earth to create amazing products.”
Jeff watched as cities grew from small settlements, cars replaced horses, and planes circumnavigated the world. It looked like the modern society of the late twentieth century, with a few strange eccentricities thrown in, like people carrying swords down a modern walkway and some men still wearing thick animal skins.
Jeff wondered what year the newest image was from.
“This scene is from two thousand and eighteen years ago,” Miora answered his unvoiced question.
"Incredible," Jeff muttered, wondering if Miora was reading his mind.
"Yes, I am, Jeff," she replied. "In time you'll learn to control your thoughts when linked with others. But don't worry about that now."
The video changed to a place that looked like the National Mall in Washington, D.C., only surrounded by palm trees and other tropical plants. A man spoke in front of a vast crowd that looked to be in the hundreds of thousands.
“Who is that man speaking to all those people?” Holly asked.
“That’s Jesus of Nazareth. He founded a great religion. There are thousands of hours of video on him, if you would like to see more.”
Jeff shivered again. Video of Jesus? Of course he wanted to see it. He was glad and relieved that Christianity had indeed sprung up in this alternate timeline. Yet since Miora offered, he’d likely have time to look through it later. Right now he wanted to see what had happened next.
“Another time, thank you. Please take us through more historical highlights.”
"Yes, of course. I have many questions as well, about your timeline. We'll cover those later."
Jeff was sure they would get a thorough debrief from these strange new people.
“Great King Mathew died in the year two hundred eight two or..." Miora paused for a second, "Fifty-one AD, according to your timeline. His exact age was never determined, but many believe he lived to be over four hundred. The year before he died, his space program came to fruition, and we were able to put the first man into orbit. After that we began routinely sending satellites and other astronauts into space.”
“Oh, Mattie.”
Melinda again. Jeff couldn’t tell if she was sad or proud or just plain overwhelmed.
A rocket launched into the sky. They’d missed their target date of thirty BC by about eighty years, but Jeff considered it a small miracle that they were still able to do it so early.
“But alas, our peace and prosperity were not meant to last. The first organized rebellion against what many felt was an overly oppressive regime began just after the first space station was constructed. Clairvoyant had faded into the background, choosing a less public role, but everyone knew that she was still a major advisor to the republic. Many even believed that she secretly controlled everything and the elected government was just her puppet. Those seeds of discontent grew into a full-fledged rebellion in the year 121 AD. The goal was to destroy Queen Claire.”
So mankind’s inevitable rebellious and destructive nature emerged once again. Jeff watched as men used horrific weapons of war to battle for domination. Many looked familiar, including tanks, mech units, and drone fighters, but the designs were different. And the soldiers were different as well, integrated with the technology, like cyborgs, and larger and stronger than both the men of the past and the soldiers of Jeff’s day.
“After a decade of war, the rebellion was defeated, but not until after the rebels had been able to destroy Claire in a last desperate attack. The world was left devastated. And all the inhabitants of the once great city you’re standing in now, Babylon, had been wiped out in a chemical weapons attack.”
The video showed bodies lining the streets of the once pristine city. Jeff caught a whiff of rotten eggs, likely a representation of the noxious gas used to slaughter all those people.
“We decided to leave it as a park, to memorialize the victims and to show the world the unspeakable consequences of war. After years of rebuilding, the world once again united when it learned of the threat from the Vorsh. It was revealed to everyone the true nature of the strange group of travelers that first met with Alexander. They were time travelers with a mission—to save humanity from extermination. And so began the great push into the solar system.”
Jeff watched as dozens of space ships launched and flew from Earth. Colonies formed on worlds where robots had constructed great domed cities.
“Moving people faster than the speed of light, made possible through the use of wormholes, was discovered in 1689 by a young scientist named Isaac Newton, who also designed the first FTL drive. After that, humanity spread through the stars.”
Jeff watched as a dark hole opened in the fabric of space and a long narrow ship passed through it, emerging in another star system near a blue planet.
“Eventually we ran into the one intelligent species with the capabilities of interstellar travel that we feared, the Vorsh. What could’ve been a disastrous first meeting was averted by the superior thinking of the great fleet commander, George Washington. When the Vorsh immediately attacked, thinking humans a weak opponent, Washington was able to maneuver his small fleet into a decisive victory over a much larger Vorsh force. This earned the respect and admiration of the Vorsh high council. They accepted Commander Washington as an equal and a peace treaty was signed.”
Jeff saw Washington shaking the hand of a Vorsh commander, then signing the peace documents. Washington looked much different from the man Jeff remembered from his portrait on the old dollar bill.
The turn of events was incredible. Holly grasped his hand tighter as the emotion of the experience filled both their hearts. It was just amazing that the same great historical figures from his own timeline also played pivotal roles in this one as well.
“That was two hundred and sixty-two years ago. Since that time, trade has flourished between the Vorsh and human empires, and interspecies relations have developed to the point that we now work together consistently, exploring new star systems. The tragedy of your timeline, where the Vorsh invaded and wiped out all human life, has been averted. And all information about this timeline has been buried deep within the prime archives, where no one can find it, especially not any Vorsh. Even though they are peaceful allies, there are factions among them that would like to return to their warmongering ways. We don’t need any time travel ideas planted in their heads.”
“So is time travel used much in this timeline?” Jeff couldn’t help but ask because if it was, then all their hard work could be undermined.
“Time travel is the most heavily policed technology in the entire galaxy. The last thing we need is someone going back in time and killing off Mathew Tedrow, Charles Paulson, Clairvoyant, or any of the others just as they arrived in the past all those years ago.”
"So when did time travel first develop?" Holly asked curiously.
"Many centuries ago," Miora replied, "Just before FTL space travel was developed. Oh, I see that you were integral in the development of time travel technology in your timeline. Astounding."
Holly squeezed his hand again. He couldn't see her face, but he knew she must be beaming with pride.
Miora’s face appeared again and she said, “So there you have it. Over twenty-three hundred years of history in the broadest of strokes. We have much more information on every era and every subject, of course. All available for your study and enjoyment.”
Jeff was truly amazed. Their planning had worked. The human race was not only alive, but expanding outward into the galaxy. They were alive.
The ruins of Babylon slowly came back into focus. Holly and Melinda also emerged from their virtual trances and looked at each other.
“We won,” Jeff said. “We did it.”
Holly stepped into his arms and he lifted her, twirling them in ever-dizzying circles.
“Oh God, we did it.” Jeff wasn’t ashamed of the tears coursing down his cheeks. He delighted in Holly’s laughter and spun until he stumbled. He slowed their spin, with Holly still laughing, and simply hugged her. Then Melinda jumped in the mix and they all embraced.
Jeff's heart was filled with joy, with near ecstasy. What an incredible journey. They were all heroes, from Holly, Melinda and himself, to all of those that jumped into the past, Paulson, Chen, Whittenhouse, Mattie, and even Claire. They'd won and so had the human race. Not bad for a life’s work. Not bad at all.
“Now what?” Melinda asked.
Jeff looked at her and then back at Holly. He grinned. “Let’s see what this new world has to offer.”
Another ship had arrived while they were in the holo trance. Its doors opened as Miora led them toward it.
She reached out to shake their hands.
“This ship will take you to the magistrate’s office in the capital of this province for a debriefing and medical attention. After that, you are free to go. Good luck to you all.”
As she turned to walk back to her ship, she glanced at them over her shoulder, smiled, and simply said, “Amazing.”
Jeff led the way into the ship and they sat in comfortable but very large seats. The ship soared upward, skimming over the ruins of ancient Babylon and the beautiful lush green park that surrounded it. Moments later a vast city loomed on the horizon, with spire-like skyscrapers stretching high. Other flying craft buzzed around it, and one large alien-looking ship shot high into orbit. More lush plains and forests surrounded the city, and Jeff could make out herds of animals moving along the alluvial plains of the Euphrates.
Holly grabbed his hand and looked deep into his eyes.
“I love you.”
He knew she did. She’d always loved him, even when he’d been an ass. Maybe now they could enjoy that love.
Jeff smiled and for the first time in decades, he felt at peace. They and the men and women who’d jumped into the past had saved the world. The human race was thriving, and civilization had advanced beyond their wildest dreams.
He kissed his wife and held her tight.
“I love you too.”
He leaned close, pressed his lips to her ear, and softly whispered, "Let's go explore this bright new future. Our future. Together."
The End
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Table of Contents
Get the Entire Extermination Day Series!
Part OneThe Rising Swarm
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Part Two Extermination DayThirty-Six Years Later
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Part ThreeThe Long Jump
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48