Intervention: A Science Fiction Adventure (27 page)

They were ahead of
schedule, finishing the task in only six hours eighteen minutes, a
little more than an hour less than the projected time. They had
successfully sealed the missile tube hatches on every submarine at
sea.

The next phase of their
plan was to disable the aircraft on the ground. It had been decided
that a narrow laser beam directed through the near center of the
aircraft’s jet power plant would be the most effective. This would
require a total replacement of the aircraft’s jet engine. There
were spares available but not enough to replace every engine at the
same time, not to mention time and the personnel required to perform
the task. The computer had projected that this method could be
expected to ground at least ninety-three percent of the aircraft in
the world capable of delivering the necessary payload.

The computer put the
guided craft into action. It would hover directly in front of the
target aircraft’s engine, in stealth mode of course, and fire a
short, narrow, and very powerful burst of its laser, leaving a hole
about the size of pencil lead right through the engine’s bearings,
and a few other intricate parts, turning it into a very expensive
paperweight in a fraction of a second. This damaging effect would go
undiscovered until the time came to start the aircraft’s engine in
preparation for take-off. When the pilot tried to start the engine,
or engines, of his aircraft, he would be welcomed by a vast array of
warning lights that would make his instrument panel resemble a well
decorated Christmas tree. He would be forced to immediately shut the
engine down to avoid the risk of an explosion.

The entire process
didn’t take any longer than the other phases of their plan already
executed. If the situation wasn’t so grave, Christopher would have
smiled at the thought of the pilots trying to start their aircraft
only to be greeted by so many flashing warning lights and alarms. The
gravity of the situation would only allow him to place his thoughts
on the next task at hand. There would be plenty of time for humor
later, providing they succeeded.

The next task would be
much faster and easier. Arriving at the position of the first surface
ship, the craft hovered about a thousand feet directly above it. It
took less than a second for the computer to send an EMP rendering
every piece of electric equipment on the vessel completely useless.
On board the effected ship, it was total chaos as messenger after
messenger arrived on the bridge to report their section’s total
system failure. Those that were nuclear powered were under a bit more
pressure than the others. It would soon become apparent to the ship’s
captains that their ships had experienced a total ship-wide systems
failure. Everything that could be done manually was done. It was all
most of them could do just to go forward and steer. This was repeated
through the oceans of the world until each and every military surface
vessel was disabled. The ship’s bases grew more panic-stricken as
contact was lost with ship after ship until after only about thirty
minutes, they had lost contact with every ship that was to take part
in Operation Down-size.

The panic quickly
spread amongst those involved in Operation Down-size. They couldn’t
even begin to guess what might be the cause of this sudden loss of
communication with the surface vessels. They moved quickly to
eliminate several possibilities, including natural phenomena. Perhaps
it was the Russians? They claimed to be experiencing the same
problem, but could they truly trust their former enemies of the Cold
War? The military’s intelligence ruled out any possibility of a
thermonuclear detonation; they would have picked up such an event as
it happened. This ruled out an EMP, or so they thought. The reality
of the situation was something far beyond their wildest dreams.

It was quiet on what
appeared to be a day like any other day. At least it seemed that way
on the surface. Unsuspecting people were on their way to work. Flight
crews wheeled aircraft from their hangars onto the tarmac beginning
to prepare them for what most of them thought was another day of
routine flights. Behind the closed doors of military leaders around
the world, ceaseless efforts were continuing to try to make sense of
the sudden and total loss of communication with their entire fleets.
Reconnaissance aircraft were just arriving on the scene of several of
the disabled ships. They were able to communicate using the old Morse
code, utilizing flashing lights to relay their predicament. The
pilots then radioed the information back to base. They had been able
to establish communication with the submarines and were able to
verify they appeared to be unaffected. When they received the reports
from the reconnaissance aircraft, they were relieved to find the
ships were still afloat and the crews were all well. They were
puzzled with the reports of ship-wide system failures. There were no
signs of any nuclear detonations. As far as they knew, they still had
land-based missiles, submarines, and the aircraft to do the job.

“I’ve never seen
one of these before. Any idea what it is, Sergeant?” the private
asked of his immediate superior.

“It’s supposed to
be some new kind of computerized test bomb. It supposedly sends all
the telemetry back through a satellite or something while it’s
falling. At least that’s what they told me,” the sergeant
replied.

“I thought they were
making computers smaller. This thing is awfully big,” the private
remarked.

“Our job is just to
load them; we don’t have to know what they do.” The sergeant
added.

They continued to roll
the cart with the odd-looking bomb out to where the aircraft were
sitting on the tarmac. Once to the assigned aircraft, they carefully
loaded the ordinance into the belly of the aircraft.

“Good morning,” the
pilot said as he walked up to the aircraft to do his traditional
visual inspection before boarding the aircraft.

“Good morning, sir,”
the sergeant replied. “How’s the new baby, sir?”

“Little guys doing
terrific,” the pilot responded as he walked around the aircraft
looking everything over. Satisfied that all was in order, the pilot
climbed up into the cockpit and the sergeant helped with the job of
strapping the pilot into place. This was only one of a long row of
aircraft preparing for their flights this morning.

“Captain’s on the
bridge,” the sailor announced as the captain entered the bridge of
the nuclear submarine.

“How are we doing?”
the captain asked his second-in-command.

“We’re right on
schedule, sir. We should arrive at the designated coordinates in one
hour and twenty minutes.”

“Very good. Any
surface contacts?”

“Sonar is clear all
the way around. Looks like we’re the only fish in the sea,” the
second-in-command joked.

“Just the way I like
it,” the captain responded. “When was the last missile drill?”

“Less than an hour
ago, sir,” the second in command responded.

“What was their
time?” asked the captain.

“One minute
thirty-seven seconds.”

“Very good. I guess
we’re ready for anything. I’m going to the mess for some coffee.
You have the bridge.”

“Captain’s off the
bridge,” the sailor said. As the captain left the bridge, the
second-in-command went back to checking the ship’s course and
speed. There was to be no room for error this day.

Back at the airfields,
the pilots began to start the jet engines of their aircraft.
Instantly their consoles began flashing warning lights of all kinds.
They immediately shut down the aircraft and notified their superiors
of the situation. Several of the aircraft were pulled back into their
hangars and the problems assessed. As quickly as humanly possible,
the engines on several of the aircraft were replaced with as many
spares as were available. They were only able to repair a small
percentage of the aircraft in time for them to be of any use for
Operation Down-size.

At military
headquarters, those in charge were beginning to realize the
possibility of sabotage. It was too coincidental that the aircraft
would be damaged at the same time as the loss of systems of the
surface ships. They were unable to conclude how this could have been
accomplished or who could have learned of Operation Down-size. They
believed it had to be a well-organized group of military secretly
opposed to the operation. Who it was, however, no longer mattered.

They had decided to go
forward with the operation. They still had the land-based missiles
and the submarines, and a small percentage of the aircraft was
receiving replacement engines and would be ready in enough time to
complete their task. They would, for the most part, still have an
effective force. There would be a slightly larger number of survivors
than previously planned, but it should still be a manageable number.
The word went out to proceed as planned with Operation Down-size.

“I suppose it would
have been too much to hope for them to cancel the operation
completely,” Christopher said as he and Cindy watched the display
of one of the implanted generals.

“I never really
thought they would,” Cindy added.

“Computer, have you
detected any airborne aircraft yet?”

“No, not yet,” the
computer responded.

“Christopher, when
this is all over, let’s go somewhere and spend some time, just the
two of us. Maybe we could find a cabin in the woods or something. I
know we’ve been together these last few weeks, but with all that’s
going on, we really haven’t had much time to get to know each other
better,” Cindy reflected.

Christopher replied, “I
know just what you mean. A cabin in the woods sounds like a terrific
idea. I’m sure we can manage that. You know, Cindy, I’ve been so
involved in my work for as long as I can remember that I’ve never
really taken the time to really care for anyone like I do for you,”
Christopher said, blushing a little.

Cindy took his hand and
held it lovingly. “I feel the same way. I guess I was just waiting
for someone special like you.”

“Christopher, Cindy,
I am detecting aircraft beginning to take off at several locations,”
the computer interrupted.

“All right then,
let’s go to work,” Christopher said. The computer guided the
craft to the location of the closest airborne aircraft and positioned
the craft directly beneath it. The computer instantly went to work
welding the aircraft’s Bombay doors shut using a laser beam. In a
matter of seconds, the job was complete and it was on to the next
aircraft, where the procedure was repeated. The computer continued
with each aircraft until each and every aircraft had been rendered
useless. Not having a clue as to what had been done to their
aircraft, the pilots continued on with their mission.

Now it was time to put
Christopher’s idea into action. The computer positioned the craft
about fifty yards directly in front of one of the fighter bombers,
matching his course and speed exactly. The computer then disengaged
stealth mode, allowing the craft to become completely visible not
only to the pilot of the aircraft, but to radar as well.

“Eagle-seven to
Base!” the pilot called in a panic. “Eagle seven to base! Come
in!”

“Eagle-seven, this is
Base. Go ahead.”

“It’s right in
front of me! It’s right there!” the pilot replied in a panic.

“Eagle-seven, what’s
right in front of you? Over.”

“It’s a UFO, an
alien spacecraft of some kind. It’s about seventy, maybe eighty
feet across. It’s all shiny like polished metal. It’s round and
saucer-shaped!”

“Eagle- seven, are
there any markings or insignias? Over.”

“Base, Eagle-seven.
No markings of any kind. Hell, there’s not even a door or window or
even a seam. Nothing! Just smooth metal of some kind. Wait a second,
my heads up display just went blank. Now there’s something being
spelled out on my display.”

At Christopher’s
request, the computer made the message appear on the pilot’s heads
up display one letter at a time at a rate of five letters per second.
The pilot read the message to his base as it appeared. “It’s a
message of some kind. It says, ‘If you return to your base now,
there is a strong probability, repeat, strong probability that you
will not be vaporized.’” At that moment the craft began to glow
like a bright light, pulsing as it got brighter. “That’s it, I’m
out of here! Eagle-seven returning to Base!”

Military on the ground
watched the object travel nearly seven hundred miles in a matter of
seconds on their radar as the computer moved to the next aircraft to
repeat the scene that it had just played out. All the time the craft
remained clearly visible to both radar and the naked eye. The results
were pretty much what you might expect until the craft appeared in
front of the aircraft piloted by a combat veteran, Colonel Masters, a
determined and skillful pilot. After the message appeared on his
heads up display, he kicked in his afterburner and tried to maneuver
around the craft. He became increasingly irritated as the craft
matched his every maneuver.

After a minute of this,
Christopher said to the computer, “Perhaps he needs a little
demonstration of your maneuvering capabilities. Show him what he’s
up against.” With that the computer put the craft through a series
of maneuvers that left the pilot in awe. Finally, the pilot realized
he was totally helpless and completely out-classed. He turned his
fighter for home.

Christopher and Cindy
let out a cheer as they saw the aircraft turn for home. “Guess he
realized he bit off more than he could chew,” Christopher remarked.
“We did it. We stopped the operation. Not to mention they
definitely know we’re here now. Now we have to be sure it never
happens again. It’s time for the final phase of our plan. Let’s
give the aircraft a little time to get back to their bases and let
them talk amongst themselves. In the meantime, let’s take a look at
some of the staff’s reaction to this latest development in their
well-planned operation,” Christopher commented with a smile.