“Symmetrical,” broke in Secretary of State Mercheson, “what exactly does that mean?”
Sundowner hit the PAUSE key and the screen froze again. “Any kind of ground-level explosion would spread outward like water spilled on a table. Ragged edges and a generally irregular pattern. Symmetrical means we’re facing an impetus from above ground level.”
“Push the PLAY button, Mr. Sundowner,” Lyman Scott ordered.
The scientist obliged and the narrator’s voice returned, the screen blurring as he lowered his head closer to the instruments.
“I’m checking the range finders now. I read no evidence whatsoever of any remains. Nothing’s even standing. It doesn’t make sense. Whatever happened here should have left residue I could fix on, yet there’s nothing except for that black dust. Sensors show no signs of movement indicative of life. I’m checking oxygen levels now…. Machines say the air’s breathable. They don’t say it’s sooty but I can assure you of that much. I’m going to start driving again.” The screen grew dark once again, and the Tomb’s occupants squinted their eyes trying to see through the sooty cloud. “It’s my estima—”
There was a thud and the picture rocked.
“What the hell …”
“You’re not going to believe this,” the narrator’s voice said as if in reply, “but I just hit another car. I’m getting out to inspect the damage. Better take my lantern. …”
The screen blurred again, then filled briefly with a shot of the driver’s door opening out into the blackness. The narrator’s breathing quickened as his boots met the pavement and he started around to the front of the van with the lantern’s beam focused directly before him.
“What the hell?”
The car he had struck was missing all four of its tires.
“I hope it’s thieves because — wait a minute … I don’t know if you can make this out but I’m looking inside the car and the interior’s just a shell. No trace of cloth or plastic. Long as I’m out, I might as well take a little walk. …”
Sundowner pressed the MUTE key and picked up the narration himself as the helmet-mounted camera looked into the dent carved in the sooty blackness by the powerful lantern.
“Two more cars here,” he started when the screen displayed them, “also missing their tires.”
“Busy thieves,” observed Stamp.
Sundowner’s words rolled over him. “Here we have a pile of bricks where a building once was.”
“Looks like it just crumbled in on itself,” said Kappel. “No semblance of structure, just like the instruments recorded.”
“There’s no trace of most other buildings at all,” continued Sundowner when the camera locked on what had been one. “Just holes in the ground filled with that black dust.”
“What about people?” the President wanted to know.
“None.”
“I was talking about traces, remains.”
“None,” Sundowner said without elaborating further. He hit the MUTE key and the narrator’s voice picked up again as he headed back for the van.
“… now. I’ve got the layout of Hope Valley memorized and I want to check out the residential neighborhoods. …”
Sundowner fastforwarded, watching the counter for the proper cue when to stop.
“I’m in what used to be a neighborhood. It’s the same as the commercial district — nothing left. But hold on. In the detailed maps I studied before entering there were plenty of trees and grass.” He cocked his head to the left and held it. “There was a park over there, I’m sure of it. But now, as you can see, there’s nothing but black dust. Looks like the stuff just swooped in and swallowed everything. …”
The foundations of several houses were still visible, but nothing rested on top of them. There was just the black dust, rising up from the excavations and whipping about in the stiff wind. The scene looked to be that of a distant planet with a violent, unsettled landscape unfit for habitation. No plants, buildings, or life. Not even any death.
“What about the people, goddamnit!” the President blared suddenly. “What happened to the people?”
Sundowner pressed STOP. “They were attacked, sir.”
The President leaned over the table, the fear in his face caught by the glow coming off the screen. “You had better be prepared to explain yourself, Mr. Sundowner.”
“I’m not, Mr. President, and I’m not sure I ever will be able to do so satisfactorily, because what happened to Hope Valley can’t be explained.”
Lyman Scott moved back into the darkness, safe from the screen’s light. “Your report indicates otherwise. You said symmetrical. You said attacked. But there’s no weapon on this planet that could bring about what we just witnessed.”
“You mean, sir, there didn’t used to be.”
Chapter 3
Blaine McCracken watched the Hind-D being wheeled down the ramp from the cargo bay of the C-130 transport plane that had flown it to the Air Force test lab in Colorado Springs.
“You’re late,” Lieutenant Colonel Ben Metcalf barked cheerfully, striding across the airfield toward him.
“Next time call Federal Express. They’re the only ones who’ll absolutely, positively do business with bastards like you.”
The two men met at the foot of the ramp and shook hands firmly. Metcalf’s eyes fell fondly on the Hind.
“I can’t tell you what it means to us to finally get our hands on one of these.”
“Forget the plural,” Blaine scolded. “I did this for you, Ben, you and you only. For services rendered, remember?” Fifteen years ago, Metcalf had run interference for Blaine with the brass back in Vietnam so that Blaine’s unit could cut through enemy lines instead of red tape.
“But in this case there’s the matter of the million-dollar bounty on this bird. That money now officially belongs to you.”
“Except I don’t plan on claiming it, not when it’ll probably mean having my picture plastered across the cover of some half-assed war-lover’s magazine.”
“Would probably boost circulation a bundle to showcase that beautiful mug of yours.”
“Yeah. People’d have to buy a copy to find out if I was human or not. If anyone asks, just tell them you inherited the Hind after it was left in a tow zone.”
They started walking down the tarmac.
“You still think about the war, Blaine?”
“Never stopped. Johnny says I’m obsessed with bringing things to a finish. Maybe in this case it’s because over there we never finished anything; we never really knew we started.” Blaine gazed at the Hind as it was towed toward a hangar. “You gonna keep her here awhile?”
“Couple months at least. I’m going to take care of the flight testing myself, just as soon as I patch up the holes you put in her.”
“Wouldn’t mind sticking around for that myself.”
“You’re more than welcome to but there’s a message waiting for you in my office. From a woman.”
“And I told her never to call me at the office….”
Metcalf laughed briefly. “Figured you’d be a harder man to track down.”
“Somebody needs me, it’s not that hard. That’s the way I want it.”