From nearby the Secretary, a gruff voice said, “Well, sir, that’s orbiting seventy-eight thousand miles out. We don’t have a weapon in our arsenal we can launch that distance at a moving target and be assured of hitting it. In fact, I can almost guarantee we won’t. It could take weeks of trial and error for our weapon to reach it.”
“Do we have a… I don’t know… some sort of self-destruct button we can push and just blow up the satellite from here?”
Nogrady didn’t quite trust himself to answer that question. Fortunately enough the unseen general did it for him. “Mr. Secretary,” and he was clearly trying to keep the incredulity out of his voice, “we’re not talking about a spy plane. We don’t build self-destruct mechanisms into everything.”
“Well, assuming we survive, we should look into that.”
“I’ll get right on it, Mr. Secretary.”
The Secretary shifted his attention back to Nogrady. “Speaking of survival… what happens if they establish communications?”
“Based upon the destruction we’ve seen them uncaringly rain down upon us…” He paused and then said, “In scientific terms: we’re looking at an ELE, an extinction level event.”
“Less scientific terms?”
“We’re history,” said Nogrady.
If Calvin is alive, thought Nogrady as he watched the Secretary of Defense contemplate the end of mankind’s time on this planet, then he’s doubtlessly coming to these same conclusions. At least he’s in a position to do something about it.
Although I wouldn’t hold my breath.
USS JOHN PAUL JONES
Hopper looked across the faces of the assembled officers and crewmen as they sat in the CIC. Nagata, Raikes, Ord, Beast, and the rest of the CIC crew. They were waiting for him to say something, to tell them what to do.
He had no blessed clue.
But he had no time to wait until he did.
Hopper drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “Okay. What do we know? And what does it mean?”
“We know they’re not here on some goodwill mission to feed the children,” said Ord.
It was his typical lame attempt at humor. Surprisingly, of all people, Nagata picked up on it and went with it. “Not our children.”
There was a faint chuckle, shared by people who didn’t actually think anything about the situation was remotely funny. The laughter of people sitting on death row, trading morbid jokes while hoping that a pardon from the governor would be forthcoming.
Hopper ran his fingers through his hair. “Those throat tubes were full of salt water. Maybe… maybe that’s what they’re here for. Maybe salt water is something they need for survival, just like we need desalinated water to survive. And maybe their supply on their home-world is running low, or there was climate change, or it was polluted. So they sent—”
“Three ships,” Ord interrupted him. “They sent three freaking ships. How much could they possibly transport?” Then he added quickly, when he saw the annoyed look from Hopper, “Sir.”
“Not just three,” Raikes reminded them. “Those three mobile combat ships, plus that transport thing, plus who knows what else.”
Nagata leaned forward, his eyes thoughtful. “Three, four ships, only the beginning. Water is only the beginning.”
“You think this is an advance party that they’re setting up for a land invasion?” said Hopper. He could scarcely conceive of it, the magnitude of the undertaking. “But there are seven billion people on this world. Millions of miles of territory, hundreds of different governments. And you’re trying to tell me—?”
“They want the whole damned place,” said Beast.
“More coming for certain,” said Nagata, nodding.
They exchanged looks. Hopper realized the enormity of what they were discussing. More than that, he considered the distinct possibility that they might be alone in this realization. They had no idea what was happening elsewhere or what others might have figured out. If the aliens were raining down destruction worldwide, launching ships and attack vehicles, then the secret was pretty much out.
But that didn’t seem to match with their method of operation. They were coming across to Hopper as being extremely methodical. Testing, probing, seeing what the humans were capable of doing, while preserving their own resources. It seemed far more likely that they would be concentrating minimal forces here, trying to determine what it was that humans were capable of mounting offensively, so they would know how much of their ships and personnel they’d need to commit. Only then would they send for reinforcements, enough to take whatever they needed and lay waste to whatever they didn’t.
“Not if we can help it,” said Hopper, as much to his inner concerns as to anyone there. He turned to Beast and said briskly, “Damage report.”
“Starboard engine is down. Whatever that thing was, it tore through the drive shaft.”
“Fixable?” said Hopper.
Beast shook his head. “Negative.”
“Port engine?” Hopper was nervous to hear the response. “We’re sitting ducks without it.”
“It tore into the turbines pretty good, but we can fix it.”
Hopper sighed in relief upon hearing that. At least he had some small fragment of good news to which he could cling.
Abruptly Nagata called out something in Japanese. It certainly sounded like an order. In response to it, a short Japanese man with a round face and glasses entered and looked to his commanding officer expectantly. Nagata gestured toward the new arrival and told Hopper, “Lieutenant Commander Hiroki is my chief engineer. He is quite excellent and can help you.”
“Thanks, but I don’t need any help,” said Beast. Clearly as far as he was concerned, that was the end of the discussion. He stood up, stooping in order to keep his head clear of the low ceiling, and started for the door, barely giving Hiroki a glance.
He was brought up short, however, when Hopper said sharply, “Beast.” He turned questioningly toward Hopper, who continued in a tone that was gentle but also firm, with a hint of warning that there were bigger things than Beast’s ego at stake. “We are under attack from what appears to be a force from another world.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We have lost two destroyers.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We are effectively dead in the water. Sitting ducks, until you get our engines back online.”
“Yes, sir,” said Beast. He obviously knew where the conversation was going, but was content to let Hopper take it all the way there.
“We’d be appreciative of Captain Nagata’s offer to assist us and would welcome Lieutenant Commander Hiroki’s assistance in our engine room.”
Beast and Hiroki exchanged looks, this towering American and a diminutive Japanese officer. They looked like a comedy duo.
“Sir,” Beast rumbled, “if the lieutenant commander would follow me, I’m sure we have plenty of work for him.”
Nagata nodded to Hiroki, who saluted his captain. Then he stared up at Beast, looking as if he didn’t care in the least that the American had been resistant to working with him. A silent understanding seemed to occur between the two of them and they actually nodded in unison. Beast walked out first and Hiroki followed him from the CIC.
Hopper looked with certainty at Nagata and forced a smile. “They’re gonna get on great.”
Nagata harrumphed.
“So…” Hopper settled into the captain’s chair, feeling awkward in doing so, but knowing it was expected. He stared up at the big screens on the wall that displayed the Hawaiian theater. Using the controls in front of him, Hopper moved an icon to articulate his point. “So, we’re here,” he said, sliding a small boat-shaped image onto the screen. Then he tapped a spot on the map and an arrow appeared. “Pearl Harbor is here. They—whatever ‘they’ are—are here in the middle,” and he created a circle in the general area of the aliens. “We have plenty of conjecture, but ultimately we don’t know for sure their true objective. And at night, without radar, we can’t see them.”