Planet America (35 page)

Finally someone said, "All right then, at least tell us your plan."

Hunter resisted draining what was left of his drink and started gnawing on his lip instead. Yes, he had a plan. It involved a huge gamble, and it wouldn't be pretty. But if they worked quickly, they might be able to let the BMK know that they were going to have to earn their money. No more rolling over. No more bolts out of the blue.

"The first thing we have to do," Hunter began. "Is to start a massive Civil Defense program, especially in our major cities. I will have to leave that to your expertise."

Hunter then asked Gordon to use the screen behind them to display the shot of the American rocket still on the launch pad at the secret base out west, the place called Groom Lake. In a bit of cruel humor, someone in the know had painted the words "Love Rocket Number 2" on its fuselage.

Many of the people in the room were unaware of the rocket's existence. But everyone on hand knew the ramifications of attempting a space launch.

That's why a gasp went through the room when Hunter finally said, "And the second thing we do is launch that rocket."

21

The BMK ships arrived In orbit around Rmerlca the next day.

Xirstix himself had led the invasion force in. Having controlled the campaign on France from the comfort of his living quarters—as his superiors had instructed him to do so long ago—he'd quickly grown restless, being so far away from the action. When Planet America launched a spacecraft of its own, it came as a pleasant surprise for him. It meant more money, more glory, more blood for his men. And this time, because BMK was now in a two-world war, Xirstix would run things from the battlefield itself.

The trouble started right away though. Three hundred forty-nine troop shuttles left Moon 39. Twenty-seven didn't make it in.

A strange spacecraft had hit them four times on the three-hour voyage. The mysterious craft would suddenly show up, weave its way through the formation, hitting targets, before blinking out again. They had no idea who was operating the craft and worse, they had no way to shoot back at it. The troop shuttles carried no defensive weapons. Losing twenty-seven ships—and twenty-seven thousand men—was a blow to the invasion force. Not a fatal one. But as there was no way to know where and when the enemy craft was going to show up again, the attacks put everyone in the fleet on edge.

A second blow was received shortly after the invasion force reached America's orbit. There would be no troops coming over from Planet France. Why? Because the same mysterious spacecraft had attacked dozens of targets on that planet as well. In one stroke, the unknown attacker had altered Xirstix's entire battle strategy. No occupation troops could be moved off France. The genocide squads could not get their work started, because the troops they needed for gathering the population together for extermination had to be moved closer to the cities as the attacker had chosen to hit the most isolated outposts of the BMK on France.

So, Attack Force Delta—the force heading for America— would have to go it alone, at least in the beginning.

This infuriated Xirstix. He'd expected a problem-free cruise in toward Planet America, just as the invasion of France had been. He was counting on getting his troops on to the new battlefield in a good frame of mind—they were second-echelon soldiers, the first line was on France—and many had never seen action before. Now, with the mysterious attacks, any hope of a replay of France had been lost.

Who had attacked them? Xirstix was absolutely at a loss for an answer. There was no one else out here except the Home Planets and the sentinel moons, and no one on the prison worlds even knew how to fly. The first indications were that the attacker had come from Planet America, but how could a planet who'd just barely put an elementary rocket into space now have a weapon of such mind-boggling power? And if it was from America, why was it attacking targets on Planet France?

It didn't make sense. But there was no turning back now. Xirstix knew he had to face facts: Nearly half the force he thought he'd be controlling was no longer available. They would be tied up, doing nothing but keeping their heads down, seventeen million miles away.

Xirstix's original plan was to concentrate on Planet America's ten largest cities including New York, Chicago, and Los Angeles. He had planned to do this with the troops of Attack Force Delta. The troops from Planet France he wanted to use in a different way. He'd been expecting two hundred fifty attack craft from Planet France. Each one was to be assigned a smaller city or town on America to land in. This was to be done purely for psychological reasons. It was important in Xirstix's mind that in addition to big battles in the big cities, the countryside had to be frozen, bloodied, paralyzed with fear as well. He wanted it to appear as if the alien invaders were falling from the sky
everywhere
.

This important part of his strategy was now in jeopardy. Xir-stix couldn't spare the troops of his own force to perform this key tactic; he couldn't cut himself short of soldiers that might actually do some fighting. His psych-war troops were just supposed to frighten the bumpkins and, in a best-case scenario, those bumpkins would simply submit as soon as the invaders showed up and word spread that the invasion of the planet was total and complete.

Now, looking down on Planet America, Xirstix made a fateful decision. He wouldn't send any troops into the countryside. He would use all of his three hundred twenty-two remaining craft to carry out the invasion in the cities alone.

It was clear weather around Planet America when the invasion began. It was just before dawn on the East Coast.

The fiery trails made by the BMK craft across the morning sky could be seen for miles. They caused multiple sonic booms coming in, plus the attack craft themselves had their propulsion units rigged to make as much noise as possible coming through the atmosphere. Once down, the spacecraft were designed to emit strange and eerie sounds, again heightening the frightening aspect of it all.

The first BMK units on the ground were the fleet's shock troops. They wore battle gear that was designed to cause fear and look invincible. Their suits were really part combat uniform, part robotics-assisted devices or RADs. They gave the wearer at least six inches in further height, topped off by a massive battle helmet that gave the illusion of yet another six inches. The battle suit made sizzling, mechanical noises whenever they moved.

The shock troops carried blaster rifles programmed to make heavily amplified noises when fired. Even their ray-gun side arms had been cranked, that is, their beams were brighter, their report louder.

At seven a.m. local time, thirty-two shock troop craft came down in New York City. Xirstix's own personal craft joined them soon after.

The BMK were professional invaders. Though the army based on Moon 39 was serving under very unusual circumstances, their training essentially remained the same. Fight in the big cities, take out key spots, then spread terror in the countryside. It was a formula that had worked for their peers many times across the Fringe. It was the strategy that had worked just two weeks before on Planet France. There was really no reason why it should not work here.

There were a dozen key objectives the BMK shock troops had to secure in New York City. They included the port, the main TV and radio antennae, and every tunnel and bridge leading in or out of Manhattan. If there was to be any fighting, it would take place at these locations. Usually, the first two hours of an invasion were the most violent. Yet, just twenty minutes after the BMK force had set down, these key objectives had already been taken. More troops landed, and within an hour, the city was declared secured. Casualties to the invading forces were zero. In fact, not a shot was even fired.

This was because there had been absolutely no opposition. The city was empty.

Xirstix had found this news so unbelievable, he took a tour of the city south of Central Park. Gliding along in an ornate sky car, nearly a thousand specially trained combat guards surrounding him, he went up and down every street and alley along both rivers and flew to the tops of the tallest buildings. Long robes flowing, wearing full battle dress from head to toe, it took two hours of Xirstix rushing here and there to convince him that the city was indeed deserted.

What's more, reports coming in from two other landing sites—Boston and Philadelphia—said the same thing. The cities were empty; there had been absolutely no resistance.

How could this be
? Xirstix wondered. It was almost as if the people of the planet knew the BMK were coming.

Then it hit him: the mysterious attacker, who had shot down twenty-seven of his shuttles coming in and had attacked BMK targets on Planet France. There had to be a connection. But again, how could a planet that was just barely able to get a rudimentary craft into orbit have such an awesome weapon at its disposal?

Then word arrived that Chicago was not found to be empty.

In fact, the planet's defenders had been waiting for Xirstix's craft and had even shot two of them down.

The news was almost as unbelievable as the lack of fighting in New York.

Xirstix rushed back to his command ship and immediately headed west.

Arriving in Chicago ten minutes later, Xirstix found the situation was near total chaos.

The reports had indicated that Chicago was not a deserted city as New York had been, but this was not entirely accurate. Chicago was indeed empty of a population for Xirstix to conquer, but it was thick with defenders, well-armed fighters apparently made up from the city's police force.

And the reports of two shuttlecraft being shot down—that had been inaccurate, too. It had been
four
shuttles, and they hadn't been shot down by anyone on the ground. The mystery spacecraft had done it.

The first thing Xirstix noticed after arriving over the city was the large number of smoke plumes rising above it. Curiously, these plumes were forming a series of near-perfect concentric rings, each one getting closer to the center of the city. Hovering now just above the lakefront, Xirstix asked his ground commanders why there were rings of smoke around the city. The reply was that the BMK troops were chasing the defenders into an ever-tightening noose; they were retreating toward the center of the city.

The moment he heard that, Xirstix knew something was wrong.

Defenders
never
retreated to the center of a city; the tactic didn't make sense. A retreating force should want to get
out
of an encircled city, not stay within it. Enraged but also uncertain, Xirstix directed his command craft to go right up to the front line of the ongoing urban battle.

His commanders were astonished to see him, of course. The streets around the Loop were littered with bodies and the sudden wreckage of war. The trouble was, the vast majority of the bodies were BMK troops. Many had been taken down by well-hidden ambush nests, dying two or three at a time after being caught in the middle of deadly cross fire in the narrow streets. Xirstix was furious at the losses the invading forces had suffered.

"But the enemy is retreating," one of his street commanders told him. "We have them on the run."

Then came a report that the last of the defenders had been cornered in a huge sports arena downtown. Xirstix demanded to be taken to the site immediately. Under the nervous eyes of his security troops, he was whisked to the site.

He found his troops had surrounded the arena but that they were also in disarray. The streets were littered with hundreds more dead BMK troops. Most of his soldiers were simply waiting behind cover. Xirstix ordered a unit of sappers to blast holes in the building where the defenders had gone, but again he knew something was wrong. These defenders were a little more savvy than it appeared. Why would they be foolish enough to retreat to a building that the BMK could pulverize in a matter of seconds?

When the BMK troops finally broke into the arena, they found out why. In the middle of the large sports hall there was a large area of distorted air; it looked like a mirage, shimmering, light waves bending as if in a wind.

And enemy troops were running headlong into this distortion and disappearing.

"Shoot at them!" Xirstix screamed at his troops who were standing dumbfounded by what they were seeing.

But it was already too late.

All of the enemy soldiers had escaped.

Meanwhile, the BMK invaders who landed in St. Louis were facing the stiffest fighting of the day.

Twenty-six invasion craft had rained down on the riverside city. Unlike those troops landing in the big cities farther east, this force did not split up into separate forward units. Instead, they landed, en masse, on a huge athletic field and the parking lots surrounding it, just outside the city. This change in orders was the direct result of reports coming in from New York and Chicago. "St. Louis is probably filled with defenders," Xirstix's command staff were telling them. "They know you are coming. Set down in force, assemble, then storm the city immediately."

But the new orders also gave the St. Louis invasion command-ers an extra bit of intelligence. If the enemy fights a withdrawing action, no matter how aggressive, pursue at all costs. Identify an arena or auditorium closest to the center of the city and capture it. It is here the enemy will probably be retreating to.

That's what had happened in New York and Chicago. That's exactly what happened here.

The BMK force, twenty-six thousand strong, entered the city and was immediately laid upon by machine guns and snipers. Hundreds of shooters were entrenched within the cluttered urban setting, hitting hard, then quickly retreating. The invaders pressed on, three mobile Master Blasters in their possession. Firing massive blaster rounds on a methodical basis, they took each block in their march forward by simply eliminating everything on and around it.

Within twenty minutes, they had cut a one-mile swath right through the city, finding no citizens except the hundreds who were shooting back at them. Their advance scout units found a large sports arena located not far away from the creeping front line. The BMK unit commanders relentlessly pushed the troops now. Their casualties were already over 50 percent, but soon they were just a block away from the saucer-shaped sports arena. And sure enough, they could see hundreds of the armed defenders running into the huge building. The plan had worked. The BMK commanders giddily ordered their Master Blasters to take aim on the arena.