Chapter XVIII: Heavy is the Head
"Ecological catastrophe across North America today, as the continent was wracked by a string of explosions. The detonations are believed to have originated in subterranean Liquid Tiberium deposits within Red Zone 6, and have caused a violent chain reaction that has spread contaminated fallout across Blue Zones 11 and 16.
Officials are urging the public in adjacent zones not to worry, but emergency response crews have been handing out medicine and bottled water and protective equipment.
When reached for comment, the GDI Board of Directors refused to speculate on the cause of the disaster. It remains unclear if this event was the result of an unknown weapons system, or further evidence of accelerating environmental collapse due to Tiberium…"
- W3N, 22/5/2056
GST Delaware, Arctic Circle
[23/5/2056]
"Titan." Granger repeated bluntly.
"Yes sir," Doctor Reed replied through the grainy video feed. The scientist's mousy brown hair was held back by the frames of his thin glasses. "The bodies of liquid on the surface are full of complex organic compounds ripe for exploitation, and the generally cold climate means that Tiberium proliferation will be dramatically slowed."
"Are you suggesting that we just pack up and rebuild human society on some god-forsaken ice cube in the outer solar system?"
Reed pursed his lips.
"Respectfully, sir, Titan's isolation may be an added benefit. If we are facing a second invasion, our chances of evading detection increase dramatically with distance from the Sun. Not to mention, their sensors seem to be largely based around Tiberium radia-"
"Son, I've dedicated my whole life to protecting the Earth; I'm sure as hell not going to abandon her now. Find an alternative." Granger ended the call, sighing wearily as he turned to face Lt. Park, the communications officer, who was seated at an adjacent console.
"Any word from Commander Lewis?" he asked the serious-faced young woman.
"Negative, sir. We've had no contact with the 22nd since the explosion. I'll keep trying to raise him."
"Keep me posted," Granger requested, and turned to survey the landscape.
The bridge of the Delaware gave him a commanding view of the terrain below. As they crossed the icy tundra of the Arctic Circle, Granger contemplated the immensity of the task they were facing; moving humanity to a world even more frigid than here. It would be a monumental task, if not outright impossible. GDI barely had the resources to maintain its orbital infrastructure while stemming the spread of Tiberium; moving off-world would mean completely surrendering the Earth.
Except it wasn't just Tiberium they faced, was it? Now that humanity knew for sure it wasn't alone in the universe, the threat of a second invasion loomed fresh with every new dawn. Maybe abandoning Earth to ensure some sort of future for humanity was the only choice they had.
Their other option seemed even more far-fetched than resettling the human race amongst the stars; making lasting peace with the fanatical followers of Kane. An alliance with the Brotherhood wasn't out of the question. Such a thing had occurred a few times in the past, most recently during the global invasion from the skies, but the ceasefires were short, and undermined by mutual distrust and political manoeuvring.
The thought of entangling further in an alliance with Nod unsettled Granger. They'd already bent their morality too far for his liking, working with war criminals like Veselko Lazic. Granger had leafed through the former science minister's file, his displeasure growing with each page. The man had helped pioneer the LT Bomb, the most devastating weapon of mass destruction yet unleashed on Earth. And that was just the atrocities from the last decade.
Lazic had cut his teeth practising Nod's brand of mad science at a facility outside of Neusatz. His intel file called it a "medical colony", but that was just a polite euphemism for "prison camp". That facility had been home to some of the worst atrocities of the first interbellum period between global conflicts with the Brotherhood.
Granger pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn't cut out for this kind of high-minded, future-of-humanity stuff. He missed the days when the only threats he faced could be put down by bullets.
A soft chirp broke his reverie.
"The Director is on the line, sir," the comms officer informed him.
"Patch him through."
The Director's clean-shaven face appeared on Granger's screen.
"General Granger," the Director greeted him, a little breathlessly. He seemed to be in a hurry; his sleek black hair was awry, and the camera view bobbed up and down as white walls streaked by in the background. A cluster of besuited aides scurried along behind him.
"Mr Director," Granger replied.
"Well Jack? What are we looking at here? Is it the Aliens?"
Granger gritted his teeth at this loose-lipped approach to operational security. Beside him, Lieutenant Park smothered a brief look of panic. Granger hadn't disclosed the nature of Lewis and Peele's discoveries to his command staff yet.
"We don't know yet, sir," Granger replied in a guarded tone. "Commander Lewis encountered several unknown lifeforms, and evidence of underground facilities in the Red Zone. I'm en route to Vik to assess the fragments that were recovered before the explosion. It's not much to go on, I know, but we should have more answers soon."
"Dammit Jack… I need something to tell the press, before this wild speculation goes too far. Right now people are scared, but that'll only last so long. Soon they'll get angry, and start demanding answers.
The Director stopped in his tracks. The camera stabilised. There was a blazing look in his grey eyes.
"We nearly lost everything once before. We can't ever get that close to the precipice again."
"I understand, Mr Director."
"Good." He resumed walking, and the casual air returned to his countenance. "In the meantime, we should focus on re-acquiring the Tacitus. We need that technological edge, more than ever. Zone-Sec in Blue Zone 16 have some promising leads on an Underground Cell."
Granger's mouth was drawn into a tight line.
"Respectfully, sir, I disagree with drafting civilians to serve as covert operatives-"
"Noted." The Director waved a dismissive hand. "This fit of squeamishness isn't like you. If it comes to war, every man, woman and child in the Blue Zones will be a soldier, whether they want to or not."
GDSS Lisbon, Low Earth Orbit
The conference room was a sterile, white-walled chamber. The gentle curve of the space station's structure was barely discernible beneath the carpeted floor. A brushed-steel podium stood before a minimalist rendition of the "swooping eagle" standard; projecting an impression of subtle but resolute power.
A few select journalists were crammed together in a press pit before the pulpit, while many more tuned in virtually from a mosaic of screens on the wall. Even with daily shuttle launches to low Earth orbit, room aboard GDI's network of space stations was at a premium.
The Director swept into the conference room, accompanied by a phalanx of aides and security personnel. The assembled reporters rose as he entered.
"Thank you for joining us today," the Director addressed the crowd smoothly, all traces of his previous irritation gone.
"As I'm sure you're all aware, two days ago at around 2100 hours, there was an event in the North American Red Zone. An explosion of some sort seems to have occurred near the Rocky Mountain range. While we're not sure of the cause of the explosion, it appears to have ignited a Liquid Tiberium deposit under the crust.
Thankfully, the affected area was mostly uninhabited at the time of the event, and we're already taking precautionary steps to ensure the safety of those in nearby zones."
As the Director finished speaking, several hands shot up from the press pit. He gestured to a nearby woman in a dark blazer, who stood.
"Emira Osman, W3N. IntelSat data shows the blast had a force approaching ten megatons. Is it possible this was the result of a new Brotherhood of Nod WMD?"
A ripple of unease went through the room, followed by a dozen loud shushes from the press corps. The Director gave a magnanimous smile and spread his hands placatingly.
"We don't believe that Nod had any involvement, no. The Brotherhood didn't succeed in developing a viable LT Bomb during the war, and their R&D capabilities have only diminished since then."
Emira sat down, and the Director indicated another reporter.
"Bob Russel, INN. If the explosion wasn't deliberate, then was this a natural occurrence? And do we need to be worried about repeat events?"
"We're still determining what caused the explosion, but we haven't seen any evidence of similar events. It may be a one off occurrence."
Before the Director could indicate another reporter, a man from the back row stood and began speaking.
"Director, the arrival of the Invaders is incontrovertible proof of alien life. What do you have to say to those theorising that Kane Himself may be a member of this, or another, alien race?"
To his credit, the Director didn't so much as blink before answering.
"I don't have time for crackpot theorists. Kane is-"
"But this may explain His apparent immortality, and possibly that He has survived to this day."
"The GDI position is, as it has always been, that Kane died in the Ion Cannon strike on Sarajevo in 2047."
"But you've been wrong on that in the past, how do-"
"No more questions, thank you," the Director brusquely dismissed the journalist as he swept off the stage. Already, two helmeted MPs in unobtrusive fatigues were encroaching on the outspoken man.
—
In the corridor outside, the Director was fuming. "Jesus Christ, I thought we were supposed to vet these people before we let them near a mic!"
"I'm sorry, sir, we had no idea," his assistant assured him.
The Director shrugged off his jacket and let an aide whisk it away.
"And the never ending questions about Kane! Honestly, the way they talk, you'd think he was the only person in all of history. Man loses three world wars and he's a goddamn icon! Meanwhile, we're out here trying to keep the world from burning down, but do we get any credit?" The assistant weathered the storm of spit that accompanied the Director's tirade without a word.
"Agh!" the Director exclaimed, waving his hands. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. When he lowered his hands, the frustration had passed, replaced by the mask of collected calm. "I need to talk to InOps. Get Captain James on the line."
The assistant scurried away, and quickly returned with a handheld device. A woman with striking features and black hair was on the other end. She wore a navy blue dress blazer, and a severe expression.
"Mr Director, to what do I owe this pleasure?"
"Has our new pet scientist spilled the beans yet?"
"No sir." Captain James frowned, as if the prisoner's reticence to cooperate with his captors was a personal affront. "He hasn't admitted to any knowledge of the Tacitus, or disclosed its present day location, even after several exhaustive debriefings. He claims to have never even seen it, which does track with our intelligence on its movements over the years."
The Director sighed. "Hasn't even seen the thing…"
"Should we proceed with additional debriefing, sir?"
"No, that won't be necessary, Captain. We can put Lazic to use anyway. Reassign him to Professor Renald's biolab. Stefan's been hankering for a 'meeting of the minds' with his opposite number for weeks."
"Yes sir." Captain James began typing on an unseen keyboard. The screen illuminated her sharp cheekbones in an unearthly blue hue.
"If Nod does have new toys, we'll need every defence we can have. I have a feeling this is about to get messy."