“We need to get about ten thousand people in,” Turcotte said.
“I’ll see what the Master Guardian suggests,” Yakov said. “Do it.”
Yakov left the pilot room, heading back toward the Master Guardian. Turcotte reached out and tapped another control, then suddenly frowned. He’d learned to fly the Area 51 mothership using instructions written up by scientists working for Majestic who’d studied the craft for over half a century. But he realized this felt familiar, as if he had done it more than once. But that couldn’t be, he thought. He was still exhausted from his experience on Everest and he felt that his mind must be playing tricks on him.
Aspasia’s Shadow’s eyes slowly opened. The muscles in his arms and legs bulged as he strained against the ropes binding him. To no avail. Turning his head, he could see the large Russian once more in contact with the Master Guardian. Even though his body was human, Aspasia’s Shadow considered himself Airlia, or perhaps more accurately, beyond both species, especially now that he was immortal. He was unique, a new breed. But these humans. He had fought them for millennia and, despite his projected disdain, there was a part of him that grudgingly had to grant that they had something unique themselves. To have defeated both him and Artad in the race for the Master Guardian and mothership! And before that to have destroyed Aspasia and his fleet. Simply amazing.
And years ago, to destroy the Swarm scout ship, causing it to explode over Tunguska — that had been a surprise. He realized now, too late of course, that he should have paid more attention to that warning sign, but he had been too focused on the Ones Who Wait and maintaining the status quo of their covert civil war.
Yakov stepped back from the Master Guardian and looked down at Aspasia’s Shadow. “Do you wish to tell us now how long Easter Island has?”
Aspasia’s Shadow shrugged. “I don’t know.” As Yakov’s hand went toward the pistol at his waist, he was quick to add, “That’s the truth. I opened a seismic fault deep underground. Rano Kau will become active. Soon. How soon, I cannot tell you.”
Yakov cocked his head as he regarded the creature at his feet. “Why did you do that?”
Aspasia’s Shadow blinked, as if asked why he breathed air. “It is what a commander must do in retreat. Destroy all so that the enemy gains nothing.”
“A commander of what?” Yakov asked.
To that Aspasia’s Shadow made no response. Yakov started to walk past him, shaking his head. “Wait!” Aspasia’s Shadow called out.
Yakov paused.
“You must deal with me now,” Aspasia’s Shadow said. “Why?”
“Do you want to save those on Easter Island?”
“We’ll do that without your help.” “Perhaps you will,” Aspasia’s Shadow acknowledged. “But can you save all who live along the Ring of Fire?” “The what?”
“The Pacific Rim,” Aspasia’s Shadow clarified. “Easter Island will be just the beginning. It will start a chain reaction of volcanic eruptions and earthquakes along fault lines around the entire Pacific. The western United States”—he smiled—“say good-bye to Los Angeles and San Francisco and Seattle. Japan — devastated. Your own Russia — Kamchatka smashed.
“Tens of millions dead,” Aspasia’s Shadow continued. “If you think the death and destruction from the Third World War was grievous, it will be nothing compared to what is coming. Unless, of course, we make a deal, and I stop it.”
Yakov’s right hand snapped forward, his fist slamming into the side of Aspasia’s Shadow’s face. He walked out of the chamber without a word, the door sliding shut behind him.
Artad glanced at the tactical display. A terribly primitive space habitat was shown. Most strange — was this all these humans had managed to achieve in terms of conquering space in over ten thousand years? He was tempted to destroy it as they passed by. But it was so backward and offered so little threat that he ignored the impulse. The humans would pay a much greater price.
He reached out with a six-fingered hand and tapped the controls, bringing a view of Earth’s surface into focus. He centered the screen on China and nodded as he saw the Great Wall meandering across the countryside. His Shadow, acting as Shi Huangdi, had completed the construction of the wall over twenty-three hundred years ago, shaping it to match the Airlia High Rune symbol for HELP. An indication of just how desperate Artad’s followers had been. Over twenty-four hundred kilometers of wall built in just about ten years.
Looking for help from the skies that had never come.
Artad shifted the view to forward. They were moving away from Earth, picking up speed. The navigator had laid in a course for the fourth planet in the system. A dead world where they had placed their original communication array and defensive grid, both of which were destroyed during the civil war.
One of his Kortad alerted him to something the sensors had picked up. He switched to view to whatever it was that had been spotted. He sat up straighter in his command chair as the bulk of a mothership floating in orbit was identified, over a thousand kilometers away. He ordered an adjustment in the Talon’s course to intercept.
Within a few minutes the Talon was alongside the much larger ship. He knew it was Aspasia’s, and he’d taken in the report from the guardian describing how Aspasia’s fleet had been destroyed by the humans. Still, the gaping hole in the side where the ruby sphere and nuclear weapons had been set off by the humans was startling. Artad knew the construction of the mothership and what it could sustain.
Artad noted the unusual quiet among his bridge crew as they also viewed the damage. How had all this happened, he had to wonder. It was difficult to believe that humans, acting on their own, could have accomplished such destruction.
Artad shook off these disturbing thoughts. He ordered a boarding party to be prepared to see if the ship was salvageable. High above the Earth’s surface, the Talon and derelict mothership floated in orbit.
The lieutenant had hastily rigged the device from parts off the carrier Stennis. The instruments and transmitter were inside a metal case. Foam rubber had been duct-taped around the case, leaving only room for a wire antenna to poke out.
The device, and the lieutenant who had been given the task based on his academic credentials, had been flown to Easter Island on board an F-16 at max speed. The C-2As had just barely dropped off their first load of refugees on the carriers and were being refueled for a return flight. The lieutenant’s job was to try to get an idea of the potential danger and how much time they might have.
“Steady,” he called out as two Marines edged the device up the thermal vent that had been dug in cavern floor.
The lieutenant checked the various displays he had that received information from the instrumentation he had loaded inside the case. Everything seemed to be working.
“Drop it!” the lieutenant yelled.
The Marines tipped it over and it fell into the opening.
Even though he knew the data was being relayed via SATCOM to the fleet, the lieutenant called out what the gauges told him. “One hundred meters. One ten degrees.”
He licked his lips and called out the next set of readings. “Five hundred meters. One hundred eighty degrees.
“Eight hundred. Two-ten. It must be free-falling,” he added. “One thousand. Two-forty.
“One-Five-Zero-Zero. Three hundred.” He did a quick mental calculation as he watched the numbers move. “Through a mile down and no obstacles.”