Chapter 10: Max-Q

LATER THAT NIGHT

Alnus FOB East Gate, Alnus

Leading Private Asato was in the third hour of his four-hour shift, and the weather that morning had shifted from warm and muggy to cool and breezy. Now that the Italica and Rondel VIPs had left, it was quiet… as quiet as the base could ever be, and distributed solar light posts between the Base and the Settlement made the road up to the closest turn easy to see.

That night, his usual discussion with LPvt. Sanda had turned to its usual stupid otaku antics of "What about if _ went through the Gate?"

"It's a guarantee," Asato said, "If Japan had a mech-a real giant robot, we would have defeated all of Zorzal's forces long ago."

"I think you're overestimating the combat abilities of giant robots," Sanda said. "I mean, they are limited to the ground, they are often shown to be slow, and the weapons they use require so much energy-s"

"What kind of Giant Robot is like that? The ones from Evangelion? No, I mean proper giant robots, like the ones from Gundam."

"Ahhh… you mean to turn this into another Evangelion vs Gundam debate, don't you?"

"You cannot deny that the Gundam robots are more powerful."

"You cannot deny that Gundam in general is not the best example of intelligent or informed writing."

"Oh, and twenty episodes of a coward ending in ten minutes of people shouting congra-"

Their radios buzzed and Asato lifted his radio set to ask, "Please repeat your last?"

"Large civilian group approaching from the East," the comms officer stated. "Departed from the Settlement several minutes ago. We are trying to get information from our Settlement MPs, so use caution."

At that point, Asato and Sanda could see an orange light from around the bend, which slowly seemed to get brighter before they could see a group of people.

Sanda backpedaled several steps to the guard box, then returned with a pair of binoculars. He reviewed the oncoming crowd then passed the set over to Asato. In the group's torchlight, he could see many men, but also some women and children of all races. As he adjusted the focus he could see their mouths moving.

"Be advised," he called into his radio, "We can see the group… distance about two hundred meters. Men, women, and children. Please advise."

The last part seemed to catch the soldier on the other end off guard. "Children too? Hold a moment, please."

As they waited, Asato could begin to hear chanting. If he strained and thought back through his understanding of the local language, he could understand one of the verses:

Oh goddess of

The world of stone

Of mud and rock

Of grave and bone

"Orders?" Asato asked his radio set. He didn't like the sound of what he was hearing, and found himself backpedaling a step.

"We're working on it. Please wait."

Who firms the ground

On which we stand

Who tears the caves

Who grinds the sand

By this point, the Leading Private was starting to pick out individual faces without the aid of binoculars. "Update, please?" Sanda asked into his radio.

"We were concerned that this may be a kind of riot, but the presence of children has our cultural specialists wondering if this is purely a religious item. We are sending a truck with loudspeakers and more soldiers."

'Tis Hardy of

Those shadowed plains

And kingdoms built

On Man's remains.

It was in unison too. Asato looked over to see that Sanda had hefted his rifle and said, "What are you doing?"

"Preparing for trouble." Sanda said.

"But there are children over there!"

"I noticed."

Ensnare the ones

That ought to know

Who dwells within

The Land Below.

Asato turned at the noise of a pair to trucks unloading additional SDF soldiers, one of which was a Master Sergeant who lifted a bullhorn towards the crowd and shouted, "This area is under the direct jurisdiction of the Japan Self Defense Forces. You are not permitted to assemble here. Return to the settlement at once!"

But the crowd wasn't listening. The chanting continued, and now they were less than half a football field away, their footsteps and words seeming to pick up pace. Asato could feel his heartbeat picking up with it, as he noticed more and more of the soldiers around him begin to grasp their weapons. They must turn away, he told himself. They must!

It was Sanda who leveled a weapon first, prompting the Master Sergeant to shout, "What are you doing?"

"They aren't stopping!" Sanda called, and more than a few other soldiers began to click off their safeties.

Ensnare the ones

That ought to know

"Stop!" The Master Sergeant Shouted through his bullhorn. "Stop, or you will be fired upon!"

Who dwells within

The Land Below

They were hardly fifteen paces away now, close enough for Asato to see the wild brown eyes of a girl in front, no more than eight or nine. She doesn't want to be here, he thought. She shouldn't be here! There are had to be some reason, any other reason-which was when he noticed the hand of an older man on her shoulder, pushing her along. The leading private's gaze went up the man's arm, through his shoulders, and down the man's other arm, to his hand, which was buried in his robes.

He understood what had happened.

"They're armed!" Asato shouted. "Sir, they're armed!"

And it was at that point, ten paces away from the entry, that a hundred men produced a hundred swords, and charged at the soldiers.

Carol was in her private room, finishing an email to NASA Administrator Kosinski when she heard the popping noises. She rolled her eyes-even this late at night, Hazama couldn't give his men a rest? Surely they could find a better time to do live-fire training—

The alarm came on next, and Carol had enough time to wonder, if this were a drill, would— before someone started pounding on her door. From outside, she heard Schumer shout, "Dawson, open up!"

Fortunately, she was still dressed, so she threw on some shoes, opened the door, and saw Technical Sergeant Schumer standing there in full battle gear, rifle unslung. Behind him, Foster was in a similar getup, listening closely to his radio. "We need to go, now," Schumer said.

The scientist quickly grabbed a windbreaker and joined the two airmen in the hall, who quickly moved her down the hallway. Carol noticed that, even though they were inside the on-loan barracks building, Schumer was still leading her and Foster trailing her… and Schumer was consistently glancing around corners before having her proceed. It was a bad sign.

They were almost out to the Humvee when Carol finally asked. "What's going on?"

"We're under attack," Schumer said. "Our orders are to get you to the hangar rally point."

Under attack? Carol had witnessed firsthand the pitiful technological level of the civilians and couldn't help but wonder how? They didn't have guns, and they sure as hell weren't a match for the JSDF.

Also…

"Why the hangar? Shouldn't we be going back through the Gate?"

"No ma'am. The HML's at the hangar."

Which was when she realized—even if the people of Falmart had, by chance, come up with a weapon to repel the Japanese, the USAF airmen couldn't leave—the Russians and Chinese would not allow Midgetman back through the Gate, which meant that they had to stay!

As Foster shoved her into the truck, she asked, "Am I—are we in danger?"

Neither soldier answered her. Schumer gunned the ignition, and the vehicle took off across the base for the airfield.

Greta held her ears and tried to turn away from the blaring alarm, but it was no use; the Japanese had installed the noise towers everywhere.

Worse still was the floodlights starting to snap on all over the base, throwing long shadows everywhere as men and women with guns charged out of buildings and seemingly in all directions. From somewhere she heard more shots go off, and tried to run in the opposite direction. By that point, she was so disoriented that she turned a corner and crashed face first into Takagi.

"You?" Takagi had her sidearm out, and was pointing it squarely at Greta. "What are you doing here? Are you with them!?"

"Who's attacking us?" Greta cried. "I don't know what's going on! I'm scared! I'm—"

The interpreter lowered the pistol and, placing a hand on Greta's shoulder said, "Go back to your quarters. Stay there until the sirens stop."

"But I have a message!" Greta said, holding up the letter for Takagi to see. "Rory says-s"

"Rory?" Takagi grabbed the letter and glanced through it herself. "Whatever Rory had to say, she's too late. We're already under attack, that means Carol is already in danger."

"Then why send me when Carol already has a hundred US Airmen with guns and cars and helicopters? I have to find Carol!"

"You'll never make it! The USAF has the hanger with the rocket launcher surrounded. Greta, they will shoot you on sight!"

Greta regained her footing. "I'm sorry, I have to try" she said, and sprinted off into the darkness towards the airstrip, ignoring Takagi's shouted pleas as she ran.

Of course, Carol still had more questions. "Where's Greta? Where's Takagi?" but got no response. Eventually, they heard a warbling over the Humvee's radio, and Foster slammed his hand down on the dashboard. "The dumb fucks! Why the fuck would they do that?"

"People are stupid," Schumer said.

"I'll bet it was that fucktard with the Hardy hard-on."

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" Carol called. "Who's attacking us?"

"After the conference, Nariv went to the Alnus Settlement where he was recruited by a religious proselytizer." Schumer stated. "They formed a mob by claiming that our connection to the Rondel Council was an attack on Elange. They approached the base East Entry with human shields, and attacked the JSDF at close range. Some of them got into the base, so the alarms went off, and here we are. Not much else we can do until Hazama sounds the all-clear."

"So… we're not in danger?"

"Even if we aren't, this is the procedure."

This just raised more questions, but by that point they were approaching the hangar. Carol noticed that USAF airmen had formed a perimeter around the hangar with Humvees and trucks, headlights on and blaring outwards in all directions so that the airmen and their rifles seemed like shadows on first approach. Once they were waved through the first perimeter, Schumer stopped the Humvee in front of the hangar, "Your stop," Schumer said, and pointed. "See Mullan? He's over there. We're ordered to hand you over to him."

Carol dismounted from the Humvee, and watched as Schumer hit the gas again and raced the vehicle back out to help plug a gap in the vehicle ring. Once she entered the hangar, things got stranger still.

HML-2 was on… which was to say that the engine was started, and maintenance men were swarming over the vehicle. A large panel on the missile compartment was open, and she could see cables leading from a hardened laptop into the Midgetman's nose cone.

Mullan was standing at a phone on the hangar wall, clearly finishing a conversation. "So to confirm, General," he said into the handset, "You believe this attack is being spurred by a human individual, and there's no connection to our primary concern?"

Some noise from other side of the phone as Hazama replied, then Mullan said, "That's good to hear. Do you want me to send my pararescuemen for the wounded?"

More noise, then Mullan concluded, "If you say so. Let me know if you change your mind."

As he put the handset back on the receiver, a tall man in specialist gear approached Mullan and asked, "Should we go in, sir?"

The Colonel gave an irritated sigh and said, "Hazama said he's got it."

"But they engaged at close range. They probably have guys injured out there, along with any civilians that got mixed up in this."

"Hines, I agree with you, but Hazama wants us to stick to the damn rocket, so we're sticking to the damn rocket. Besides, there might be a smarter second wave that goes after the airfield fence instead of trying one of the concrete walls."

Captain Hines threw up his hands and said, "We dealt with this shit all the time in Afghanistan. It's literally our job, and the Japs want us to sit on our asses? What the hell, sir?"

Before Mullan could reply, he glanced over and noticed Carol standing there observing them. "Hello, Dr. Dawson," he said grimly.

Carol looked over him towards the vehicle. The panel was still open, leaving her to wonder, "Were you working on something? I noticed that the HML was running when I got here."

It was very quick, but she perceived Mullan give a slight wince before replying. "That? We have the option to move the HML closer to the base if we want JSDF fire support, but it doesn't look like we'll need it. The cables are the last guidance update from Lockheed Martin...assuming that we ever get this thing to fly."

"Well…" Carol said with a shrug, "I am a rocket engineer. I could—"

Outside, someone was shouting, so Mullan grabbed Hines' radio and asked, "What the hell's going on?"

By this point, Greta had encountered the airmen many times, and they were usually friendly, reasonable folks. Even Captain Hines and his group were no grouchier than the manor guards that she used to meet with her sister. The Japanese, as far as she had experienced, were the same way.

Not tonight, though.

Tonight, she found herself staring into the headlights of several of their Humvees, while the men atop them shouted in a language she didn't understand. After all, Carol and Takagi had consistently used Japanese with her, as had Professor Shirai, while the guards Schumer and Foster rarely talked to her. When they did, it had also been in pieced-together, broken Japanese.

She simply hadn't had the time to learn English, and both Carol and Takagi had pessimistically claimed that even if she studied it every day for a year, she would be far from mastering it.

So, when the airmen began shouting in her direction, she didn't know what to do. She froze first, then lifted Rory's letter above her head, so they could see it, and tried to take another step.

More shouting from the men with guns. "I have a letter!" she shouted back at them. "I must deliver this to Carol Dawson!"

But they didn't hear her-either because she was too far away or the noise of the vehicle engines and alarm, she wasn't certain. Perhaps if she got closer…

A dozen guns came up or rotated to point at her. The Security Forces with their rifles, the Humvee soldiers and their big "machine" guns, even some maintenance men and their pistols.

Next thing Greta knew, half a dozen men in special gear ran up to her, rifles out and pointing in her direction, shouting as they did. She held the letter out to them, but the noise just got louder, and now it had an air of urgency that terrified her. She began to cry, but she couldn't move.

She was terrified.

By this point, Carol could see airmen running across the field in front of the hangar, and many of the maintenance men around her were producing side arms and taking up positions. "What—" she started, but the maintenance men began to push her away from the hangar entrance. Outside, she heard the Security Forces shouting at the invisible assailant.

"Get on the ground! GET THE FUCK DOWN!"

Mullan and Hines had rushed to the edge of the hangar to get a better look. By this point, she was nearly up against the open panel of the HML, and could see the edge of Midgetman's upper interstage poking out at her. It's a dummy rocket., she thought. It's an old dummy rocket, so why hasn't Mullan asked for my thoughts on fixing it? The technical specifications can't be that obvious just by looking at it. And hasn't Congress cancelled this thing half a dozen times anyway? Mullan himself said that it's a museum piece, so what is he so afraid of?

Rory's words appeared in her head. That man has fear enough for the both of you.

She backed up one more foot, then took a quick glance inside, at the back end of the nosecone.

That was all it took, a single glance, and she regretted it instantly.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" Hines shouted, "GET HER OUT OF THERE!"

What felt like a dozen arms grabbed her all at once, throwing her away from the launcher and onto the ground, but it wouldn't have been necessary. She was ready to faint anyway. She knew what she'd seen. "That's—"

"DON'T LET HER TALK!" Mullan yelled. "KNOCK HER OUT, WHATEVER IT TAKES!"

She barely felt the blow to the head, nor did she feel a pararescueman jab her with a needle as the world began to go blurry. The drugs were only speeding things up.

The object in the nose cone was not a haphazard collection of guidance and scientific instruments. It was a polished, silvery sphere, of the kind she had seen in documentaries and the rare Air Force museum.

And even as the shadows slipped over her eyes, Carol could hear Rory's voice mocking her. Any sane man will tell you that there is a darkness to the world; things worth being afraid of, things you have little or no control over. To some, things worth praying to a god about.

The object on the end of the third Midgetman missile wasn't a science capsule at all.

It was a bomb.

It was a nuclear bomb.

From the author

1. What!? Why!?

This will be the primary, if not the sole focus of the next chapter.

2. Where the hell is this coming from?

This was the plan from the beginning. Go back and reread chapter 1.

3. But Mullan said…

OpSec.