“Mr. Secretary?” the President said.
“We have clean weapons,” the secretary said. “Reasonably clean. The fallout isn’t going to be that bad, especially if we can use an airburst, which will be hard because of their defenses. I’d wish we had neutron bombs but… we don’t. We’ve lost nearly a brigade, more including the initial National Guard force, trying, and failing, to hold the perimeter. We don’t have the forces to hold them, at present time, to a ground perimeter. I have been considering Dr. Weaver’s suggestion for the last few hours myself and I have to concur. Delivery, especially airburst delivery, will be… difficult.”
“National Security?” the President said.
“Concur,” was all she said.
The President steepled his fingers and nodded. “Dr. Weaver, thank you for your help. I, obviously, want you to continue with your work. I cannot stress enough the importance of determinating how to control this phenomenon. For your information my decision is affirmative. Means and methods will be left to the Department of Defense in consultation with the Department of Homeland Security. Keep this under your hat until an announcement is made.”
“Yes, Mr. President,” Bill replied. “I will.”
The President looked up in annoyance at someone off the camera and Bill saw an officer carry a message form to the secretary of defense. The SECDEF looked at it, nodded and turned back to the camera.
“There’s been another Titcher breakout, this one in the hills of Tennessee,” the SECDEF said. “A team found it looking for one of the inactive bosons. It appears that they are already colonizing. Several hills are covered in what is described as ‘green fungus.’ Doctor Weaver appears to have hit the problem on the head.”
The President grabbed his head again and sighed, angrily.
“Doctor Weaver,” he said, looking the camera right in the eye. “You must figure out how to close these GATES.”
“I will, sir,” Bill said. “I will.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I have an authorized launch code, do you concur?” the captain of the USS Nebraska said.
“I concur,” the executive officer said, swallowing hard. They’d already reprogrammed the targeting of the missile.
“I concur,” the navigation officer said, pulling the red key out to hang on a necklace around his neck. The weapons officer was responsible for making sure the weapon launched and followed its track but if the sub didn’t know where it was then it would hit the wrong spot. There’s no such thing as a “near miss” with a nuke. Be off by a fraction and it was going to hit Orlando or Gainesville for sure. They’d checked the course track twice and even gone up to periscope depth for a GPS reading. It still didn’t make him happy to be firing a nuke at Central Florida.
“Concur,” the engineering officer said. He already had his key dangling from his hand.
“Concur,” the weapons officer said. The youngest of the five officers required for launch authorization was silently crying.
“Insert keys,” the captain said. When all five were inserted he continued. “On my count of three, one, two, three,” and they all turned. They actually had a few fractions of seconds to play with but it was best to be sure. Green lights turned red and a klaxon started going off.
“Tube twelve is opened,” the weapons officer said. “Tube twelve is armed and reports ready to fire.” His hand shook over the covered switch.
“I’ll take it,” the captain said. He stepped up behind the weapons officer and lifted up the switch. “Are we targeted?”
“All clear,” the weapons officer said, stepping back from a board he never wanted to see again in his life.
“Firing,” the captain said, flipping the switch downward.
There was a dull rumble and then a shaking sensation as pressurized gas pushed the missile out into the water and then the missile ignited. The sub was moving and it ignited behind them but it still sounded like a depth charge going off close alongside.
“Send message to COMSUBLANT,” the captain said to the communications officer. “1432 hours Zulu, this date, launched one missile from tube twelve. Target Eustis, Florida.”
It had been necessary to do more than simply clear the area. The Russians were barely a nuclear power anymore but they still maintained a nuclear watch and informing them was a good way to avoid an accidental WWIII. Then there had been the press, and the United Nations. There had been acrimonious recriminations even before the launch on Tennessee, which, because it was an uninhabited area, had occurred first. Protests had broken out in Washington, New York and San Francisco, not to mention throughout Europe where major riots were reported. The there was the Nuclear Test Ban Treaty which prohibited nuclear testing, especially aboveground. A Presidential Finding had been written covering the fact that this was not a Test but an act of war. The Test Ban Treaty didn’t cover those. Despite that fact, France, China and Pakistan had all immediately stated that they considered the treaty nullified and intended to restart nuclear testing immediately.
The Titcher had engaged the MIRV warheads on the way down. There had been some fear that the nukes might prematurely detonate — the Titcher weapons seemed to form some sort of fusion reaction when they impacted — but that was not the case. Four of the MIRV warheads from the first firing and three in Eustis made it through the Titcher fire and detonated.
“We’ve been asked to warn people, again, not to look in the direction of Eustis,” the anchorman said. He looked haggard and worn from being on camera for most of the last three days. He was doing voice-over for low-light camera which currently showed an open field with a line of pines at the far end, the moon rising in the background. “Our cameras have been specially shielded but anyone looking at the impact from within about fifty miles is going to be flash-blinded. If you experience flash blindness, call your local 911 operator and remain calm. The blindness will pass. Everyone within seventy miles of the event is reminded to please open windows in your home and take pictures off the wall. Secure fragile objects. The military says that the impact will be at any time. All we can do, is wait.”
There was a short, unusual, period of silence on the television and then the screen flashed white. The camera that had been being used for feed was not shielded but New York switched immediately to another which was and the video showed a series of domes of fire. The light must have been blinding; it was bright even through the heavy filters on the camera.
Dr. Weaver got up from the chair and went to the door, opening it and leaning out to look north. Sure enough, there mushroom clouds were twining amongst each other. Robin had squeezed into the door behind him and it was a sensation he thought he’d remember for the rest of his life, watching mushroom clouds reaching for the troposphere, roiling and pregnant with evil, while two small but firm breasts pressed into his shoulder blades. He noticed that he was enormously horny. And he remembered that he’d forgotten to call Sheila back and tell her that he wasn’t in Washington and wouldn’t be in Huntsville any time soon.
Just then the ground shock hit and he had to clutch the door frame to keep from being knocked out of the trailer. Robin grabbed him for the same reason and it just made things worse.