"Mr. President," Thomas sighed, "I'm afraid we're gonna have to make a run for the door."
"That sounds risky, Thomas. What's to keep the aerial vehicles from crashing into us? That mecha just did stop the Pegasus in time."
"I'd guess that's what the airborne marines are here for, sir. We have to trust they'll do their job. And you have to trust me to do mine." Thomas looked upward briefly at the flashes of DEG fire. "We can't just sit here and wait to be overrun."
"All right then," Moore replied, as he dragged his handkerchief across his face, wiping away sweat that was forming on his forehead. "But I've got a better idea."
Allison, is our backup plan ready? Moore thought to his AIC.
Yes, sir. Approximately one minute, thirty seconds away.
Good. Tell him to come on in as fast as he can.
Yes, sir.
"Thomas, you just tell the marines to stand by and cover our exit. Be prepared to move in one minute and a half on my signal." Moore looked at his watch reflexively. Allison kept perfect time and there was little need for a watch, but it was a habit that he had gotten into over the years.
"Sir?"
"Do it!"
"Yes, Mr. President."
"Heehaw, you've got some serious motion headed your way," Jawbone's voice alerted Adam over the net.
"I see the red dots, Jaw. Can you elaborate a little bit on what it is?" Heehaw replied, and then followed with "Guns, guns, guns." His DEG tracked across the river to a mock-up Nautilus carrying several AI on its hull. The energy bolt burned through a large merman and then continued on into the forward windows of Captain Nemo's submarine. The ship cracked almost into two pieces and started taking on water rapidly. It had almost completely sunk before Jawbone responded to his question.
"Uh, roger that, Heehaw. It looks like there's a giganotosaurus, an allosaurus, a T-rex, a couple of apatosauruses, maybe a titanosaur, a handful of stegosauruses, a brachiosaur or two, and what looks like a pack of velociraptors," Jawbone said flatly.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Heehaw replied, almost under his breath.
"Negative, sir. You've got the entire complement of Dinoland coming your way. Shit!" Jawbone reversed the throttle and flipped her mecha in a backward pitch-over to reverse direction, just in time to miss what appeared to be a flock of pteranodons and pterodactyls.
"Holy shit, Jawbone, what the fuck is that?" her wingman cried over the net in a panic.
"Well, Lieutenant Junior Grade Wilson, that one right there . . . Fox three," one of the robotic replicas of the ancient birds burst into a ball of fire. " . . . is a pteranodon. And that one right . . . guns, guns, guns . . . there is a Pterodactyl." Delilah yawed her mecha through the flight path of the flock, firing her DEG and stirring up the winged beasts.
"How the hell do you know that?" Wilson asked.
"Not that it really fucking matters right now . . . uhn," Jawbone grunted and pushed through a high-g turn. The bladders around her legs began squeezing her like a pneumatic vise. "But, pteranodons don't have teeth, and pterodactyls do."
"If you two are quite finished, get down here and clear out Main Street for me!" Heehaw ordered.
"Roger that, sir."
Heehaw searched through the virtual battlescape in his mind for the best escape route. He had just about decided that they were going to pick up the First Family in the hands of the mecha and make a run for it when Captain Washington burst through on the net.
"Captain Elliot, it's Washington."
"Captain?"
"Negative on your moving the package. The package has arranged for other means of transportation and has warned to be ready to run cover in one minute thirty. I repeat, one minute thirty. Over," Thomas alerted him.
"Roger that, Captain. Be advised that aerial recon shows a herd of dinosaurs headed our way, and they'll be here soon. I'm transmitting the ID tags for them now." Heehaw passed along the tagged red dots in the virtual battlescape so that they would be marked as dinosaurs in all the DTM links with the right command codes.
"Acknowledged and understood. I have the data now, thanks. Get ready."
"Ready as we'll ever be."
Chapter 8
October 31, 2388 AD
Sol System
Oort Cloud
Saturday, 6:00 AM, Earth Eastern Standard Time
"Quartermaster of the Watch!" Captain Jefferson called through the urgent sounds of the background bridge conversations and the din of the continuous buzzing from the tac-net DTM mindvoices.
"Aye sir!" Quartermaster Senior Chief Patea Vanu snapped away from his viewscreen and looked at the CO sitting in his command chair.
"Chief, I want an eyeballs report every minute to corroborate the sensors. I don't want us getting caught with our pants down like we did during the Exodus." The captain rocked the seat from left to right nervously and looked through the QMSC like he wasn't there. His stare looked right through the main viewport of the bridge and over the deck of the supercarrier out into the deep black space of the Oort Cloud some ten thousand astronomical units from Sol. The Sienna Madira was battened down and preparing for a hyperspace jaunt into a battle plan, the likes of which hadn't been seen since the Martian Exodus. Jefferson assimilated data as fast as he could in an attempt to make some sense out of the mountains of premission analyses piling up in the virtual sphere around him.
"Aye, Captain! I've got eyeballs posted about the ship feeding me continuously. I'll let you know if anything sounds out of the ordinary."
"Good." Jefferson turned to his XO. "Larry, are there any last- minute operations lagging?"
"No sir. A group of AEMs decided to ride down the tubes with the Warlords, and they are strapping the last of them in as we speak. We're good to go." XO staffers passed in and out of the bridge carrying out background orders from Colonel Chekov and making certain that the thousands of operational needs of the supercarrier were met. Every department of the ship had issues for the XO, and each of those departments had to function smoothly for an operation. It literally took a massive organization structure and hundreds of assistants to keep the ship functioning properly at all levels. The added layer of the AICs spread about the ship made it even more complicated, while at the same time adding to the capabilities of the mammoth war machine. Besides, it was Uncle Timmy's job to command the AICs.
"AEMs volunteered to ride in the drop tank tubes with the tankheads?" the CO grinned wryly. "Let me guess, Ramy Roberts' Robots?"
"Yes, sir."
"Goddamned Ramy, you tough SOB." The captain shook his head and continued to smile. "You wonder why his marines love him so much."
"Guess who's riding the first tube out?" the XO remarked. He didn't have to say anything more, as Captain Jefferson knew good and well that the first drop tube out would have Army Colonel Mason "Warlord One" Warboys driving his M3A17-T, and USMC Major Ramy Roberts would be right on top of Warboys' tank in his armored e-suit hanging on for dear life, God, and probably singing the country hymn of the USMC all the way down.
"COB, anything I need to know about my ship and her complement?"
"Well, sir, this reminds me a bit of the Triton mission a few years back."
"I know I'm gonna regret asking this, but how so, Charlie?" the CO asked reluctantly. The COB was renowned for his long-winded tall tales that eventually got around to him being a superhero, along with there being some lesson to be learned or a nugget of wisdom that would be useful in some way or the other.
"The ship is in great shape, the crew is ready to go, and the mission seems all too easy, sir." Chief of the Boat Command Master Chief Charlie Green smirked and sipped at his coffee. "Remember how that turned out, sir?"