“Over the top,” shouted Sigmir.
At that moment, the four-thousand-ton clamshell of the merculite missile station whirled open. Rockets roared into life, once more making speech impossible. Huge, heavy missiles lifted out of the station, flames belching behind them. Missile after missile rose and accelerated into the heavens.
As they did, Marten and the others climbed out of the trench, sonic locators in their hands as they crawled across no man’s land. Most of the mines had been destroyed. But some always remained. A great weariness filled Marten. It made him so tired that he almost didn’t care that Sigmir had murdered his friend. Turbo… there would be no revival for a preman, for a subhuman, a nothing to these… these who called themselves superior, Highborn.
As Marten crawled through the plowed-up ground, he glanced at Omi. The ex-gunman had a hard, grim look. A little farther back, Stick clenched his teeth in rage. If they made it across this expanse—Sigmir’s day was near at hand.
Marten’s sonic locator beeped. A live mine was getting ready to leap.
18.
Over half of Earth’s interceptors hurdled toward the Genghis Khan. Torpedoes poured out of the interceptors’ tubes and their laser cannons spewed at will. The Genghis Khan’s anti-missiles knocked out ninety-nine percent of the interceptors’ torpedoes. Packets of prismatic chaff absorbed the lasers. Then the orbital fighters began a turkey shoot, destroying interceptors as fast as they could target, lock and fire.
Amid the slaughter, the heavy proton beams from Manila, Taipei, Shanghai and Vladivostok shone. Interceptors and orbital fighters—every space vessel caught in the dull-colored beam—vanished. The real target sprayed lead-lined gel, thousand pound layers of it. The gel absorbed protons, dissipating strength. The proton beams didn’t flash in pulses like lasers, however, but maintained constant targeting. The gel heated, melted, and then vanished. The Genghis Khan sprayed more. Their supply seemed endless. Yet the new and deadly beams kept shining. Closer and closer, the devastating fury of the proton beams neared the Doom Star.
Grand Admiral Cassius roared orders.
Million-ton chunks of rock previously blown off the moon were maneuvered into position. General Hawthorne’s assessment teams had considered them mining asteroids brought near Earth for the industrial habs in high L-5 orbit. Their assessment was horribly wrong. Engines attached to the million-ton rocks pumped furiously. Targeting computers guided the rocks toward their impact points on Earth.
Meanwhile, the first merculite missiles streaked out of the gravity well of Earth and toward the Genghis Khan. Normally it would have been simplicity itself for the Highborn to knock out the merculites. However, the orbital fighters alone didn’t have the ECM power to lock onto them. The Julius Caesar tried, but amid the proton beams, the incredible gel mass between it and its target and the orbital fighters, the Julius Caesar failed for the first time in its existence. Anti-missiles from the Genghis Khan zoomed at the merculites. The heavily armored Earth rockets shrugged off the majority of the anti-missiles. Of course, a few of the merculites were shifted off target by the blasts. A few headed for deep space. Very few of the merculites exploded. But more than one slammed into the Doom Star Genghis Khan.
Explosions like volcanoes threw metal, air and flesh into space. Flames roared briefly, mere nanoseconds, before vacuum stole the needed oxygen. The Doom Star was compartmentalized like a beehive, but Grand Admiral Cassius was flabbergasted that the premen had attained this much. The Doom Stars were the Highborn, the essence of their power. If one was destroyed….
More merculites hit the stricken vessel.
Admiral Cassius closed his eyes, trying to contain his rage. He breathed heavily, opened bloodshot eyes and ordered the Genghis Khan to break off.
As he spoke, more explosions rocked the massive ship. Damage control reported a full eighth of the ship on fire or destroyed. Another eighth was in immediate danger. The Genghis Khan could very well be destroyed if something wasn’t done fast to counteract such a tragedy.
Reluctant, enraged, baffled, Grand Admiral Cassius ordered an antimatter strike in near space.
Bombs sped almost instantly from the Genghis Khan and detonated just as fast. Killing EMP surges washed over the Doom Stars and down at the merculites racing up. Hundreds of orbital fighters and the remaining interceptors died in the antimatter blasts. Thousands of Highborn aboard the Genghis Khan perished or they would die in hours or days from poisoning. Social Unity had never managed to strike such a savage blow before.
The antimatter blasts gave the Genghis Khan the time she needed. The Julius Caesar finally hove into position. Her anti-missiles and more importantly her heavy beams blew up the next flight of merculites. And now the million-ton rocks entered the stratosphere.
“Scum!” roared Cassius. “Animals! Eat this!”
19.
Cheers filled the command center as the Genghis Khan broke off. Men leaped to their feet and hugged one another. The Highborn weren’t invincible. They could be beaten after all.
Space Commander Shell rose to his feet and squared his shoulders as he took off his hat and placed it over his heart. Air Marshal Ulrich slapped him on the back. “Brave lads.”
“The best,” whispered Shell.
General James Hawthorne glared at screen after screen.
“Sir!” shouted a staff officer.
Hawthorne strode to him and gaped at what he saw. It looked like a meteorite. “Where’s it targeted?”
“Beijing, sir.”
The cheers died as men turned to look at the TV screens.
“Hong Kong!” shouted another man, pointing at his screen and the vast meteorite it showed.
“Taipei!”
“Manila!”
“Shanghai!”
“What do we have that can stop them?” shouted Hawthorne.
Space Commander Shell shook his head. Air Marshal Ulrich was speechless. There was nothing.
“What about nukes, sir,” suggested a staff officer.
“Target the Beijing meteorite with nukes!” shouted Hawthorne. “Now!”
A staff officer shouted orders.
On screen, the meteorites streaked toward Earth, the proton beams washing them unable to destroy enough of them to matter.
“Sir! We need Lord Director Enkov’s authorization to launch nuclear weapons!”
“Raise him,” snapped Hawthorne. “You, order them to launch regardless of authorization, on my authority.” Hawthorne found himself spun around to face the captain of the bionic men.
“Belay that order,” the bionic man said.
“Look at the screen!” shouted Hawthorne. “Unless I destroy that meteorite Beijing will be obliterated, and so will the other cities. Then Enkov will die. I don’t think he’s going to thank you for that.”
”Lord Director Enkov,” corrected the bionic man.
“You fool!”
The pressure on Hawthorne’s arm increased painfully. In moments, the bone would break. “Listen to me.” Then it felt as if his bone creaked in complaint. The bone felt like a piece of lumber under terrific pressure.
“Cancel my order,” whispered Hawthorne.
The staff officer said, “But, sir—” A bionic guard put a gun against that man’s ribs. “Yes, sir,” said the staff officer.
In the rest of the command center, the other bionic security men along the walls trained their carbines on the staff officers. A massacre of debilitating proportions seemed only seconds away.
“I beg you to listen to me,” Hawthorne told the bionic captain. “We have—”
“Impact in thirty seconds, sir!”