“Of course it is,” the host replied.
John muted the TV. “That was well scripted.”
“Yeah,” Major Samuels replied. “Right out of the Psy-Ops handbook.”
“Psy-Ops?” Tia asked.
“Psychological Operations,” Ed answered. “It’s part of the military strategy for controlling a target population.”
“Are we the target population?” Tia asked.
“Yes, we certainly are,” Major Samuels replied. “You want to keep the sheep as calm as possible before they discover they’re at the slaughterhouse.”
“That seems like a very gruesome analogy if you ask me,” Tia said.
“That’s how it works,” Ed stated. “They don’t want a panicked public interfering with their plans to move the VIP’s into the protected caves.”
“Or themselves, for that matter,” Major Samuels replied. “By the time the general public figures out what’s going on, all of the important people will be in lock-down in the underground caves.”
“So what about the plan to use nuclear weapons to clear the meteor cloud?” Tia asked.
“First of all,” John said, “there’s no public support for the nuclear plan, and second, it requires the cooperation of every nuclear power on the planet. That has never happened before.”
“But we’re facing a natural disaster that dwarfs all of our differences. Doesn’t that mean anything?” Tia asked.
“I would hope so,” I replied, “I would like to think we as people of the planet can come together in this kind of an emergency and overcome our differences.”
“I would too,” John said, “but it’s not up to the ordinary people; it’s in the hands of politicians. That’s why we have the Survivalist Network. That’s in the hands of ordinary people — people who actually care about one another. That’s what I put my faith in.”
“Okay,” Ed said, “how long before the meteor storm hits do the missiles have to be launched?”
I ran some quick calculations through my mind. “Something in the range of forty-eight hours, give or take.”
“So we will know if they actually use the missiles or not,” Ed replied, “with some time left over.”
“Basically, yes,” I said.
“And how do we verify the missiles have actually been launched?” John asked.
“Boots on the ground,” Ed replied. “We need observers in the areas where the missiles will be launched.”
“And where’s that?” Tia asked.
“Kansas, Montana, the Dakotas,” Major Samuels answered. “I can show you on a map where they are. It’s not like you have to be standing right on top of them. You can spot a missile launch from a hundred miles away.”
“What about missiles launched from submarines?” Tia asked. “We can’t see those.”
“The land-based missiles have to be launched first because they can be damaged by the meteorites.” Major Samuels said. “The submarines are well under the water and are protected, so they can be launched later.”
“How many observers do you think we will need?” John asked.
“Six should cover it,” Major Samuels replied.
“Okay,” John said, “that we can do. Show me where they have to be.”
CHAPTER 20
As I got dressed in the morning the realization hit me; one week from today the meteorites would be falling all over the globe. I headed out of my room and was walking around to the stairs when I saw the men in hunter’s outfits and rifles talking to John in the great room. Tia came out of her room. I smiled. “Good morning,” I said.
She looked happy to see me. “Good morning,” she replied. As soon as she saw the hunters and the rifles she stopped and grabbed my arm.
“Carl,” she said with a tone of panic in her voice. “John isn’t… Don’t let him do that.”
“I’ll handle it,” I replied.
I approached John as he sent the hunters out the front door. “Can’t we use canned meat?” I asked John.
John looked puzzled.
“Do we have to…” I motioned to the door.
John looked at the door. “Oh, that,” John looked up at Tia standing at the top of the stairs and motioned for her to come down. “You’re concerned that we are killing the animals?” John asked.
Tia looked both worried and distressed.
John smiled. “I have some places in the cave reserved for deer, elk, and a few moose, maybe some mountain goats, if we can find them. The hunters are using tranquilizer darts.”
Tia looked relieved. “What about wolves, foxes and bears?” she asked.
“They all have dens or small caves,” John replied. “The deer and elk have no protection from the meteorites and the fires. They won’t survive without our help.”
“I never thought of that,” Tia said. “What about cows, horses and other animals like sheep?”
“Each of our underground shelters has provisions for animals,” John said. “This is Project Ark, after all. What kind of an Ark would it be if we didn’t take care of the animals?”
Tears formed in Tia’s eyes.
“We have people collecting ducks, geese, cranes and herons,” John said. “We’re saving as much of the world wildlife as we can.”
“How do you decide what to save?” Tia asked.
“Personal interest, mostly,” John replied, “that, and what’s local. I can’t save African Tree Frogs; we don’t have any. But a Survivalist Network member in Africa can.”
“You have members in Africa?” Tia asked.
“We have members in almost every country in the world,” John replied, “Survival is a basic human instinct. Our cause resonates with a lot of people.”
“Do we have some sort of registry so we know what’s being saved and what isn’t?” I asked.
“Sure do,” John said. “Every member has access to the database.”
Getting up at two thirty in the morning and walking out to the outcropping of rock quickly became our nightly ritual. Each morning more of the visible stars were being swallowed up by the black abyss that was the meteor cloud.
Later that morning Alex called us down into the communications room to see what was happening. A reporter stood on the steps to the capital building in Washington D.C.
“We are here today investigating a report that members of Congress are not in their offices and cannot be located,” she said. The camera followed her up the remaining steps and into the main entrance to the Capital Building. An armed uniformed guard stepped in front of her as she approached.
“I’m sorry ma’am, but the Capital Building is closed today,” he said.
“And where are the Senators and members of the House of Representatives?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t know, ma’am. Have you tried to reach them back in their home districts?”
“I have,” she said. “They aren’t there, either.”
“Well, I don’t see how I can help you, then,” the guard responded.
“Will they be back in their offices tomorrow?” she asked.
“The Capital Building is closed for the rest of the week for repairs,” the guard replied. “So my guess is that they will not be back in their offices until the repairs are complete.”
“And when will that be?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t know, Ma’am. I don’t have anything to do with the repairs.”
The scene switched quickly to the White House Security gate. The same reporter approached the Guard House.
“I need to see the President,” she stated.
“Do you have an appointment?” the guard asked.
“No, I don’t,” she replied, “but this is a matter of national importance.”
“I’m sure it is,” the guard said. “You will still have to call and schedule an appointment.” He handed her a card. “You can call this number right here. They will let you know when they can fit you into the White House schedule.”