The Rock (26 page)

SOUTH AFRICA

Brandvlei, South Africa

23 DECEMBER 1995, 1200 LOCAL

23 DECEMBER 1995, 1000 ZULU

"Do you have a plan?" Tuskin asked as the plains of southwest Africa flitted below.

"We land right on top of where the prisoners are being held and grab them."

"Great detail," Tuskin muttered as a walled compound appeared in the distance ahead, rapidly growing closer. "Did you spend a lot of time coming up with that?"

"As much as you did with your plan back at the dacha," Hawkins replied.

The Russian grabbed his plasma projector as the skimmer lifted slightly and cleared the outer wall. Surprised guards in desert camouflage fired a few scattered shots at the strange vehicle as it settled into a small parade field in front of the garrison headquarters.

Hawkins led the way out the door and down the ramp. "The building on the left," he called out to Tuskin. Immediately he felt the slam of bullets into his chest as a South African paratrooper fired his R4 assault rifle at the two strange figures. Hawkins cleared the way to the prison using the projector, sweeping away the opposition with blasts of energy. He felt detached from emotion as the soldiers died under his merciless barrage.

The door melted under Tuskin's fire and they made their way to the basement cells where the intelligence Hawkins had stolen out of Lamb's files indicated that Lona and Nabaktu were being held. The last guard disposed of, Hawkins blew off the lock and entered the cell. The two prisoners were gaunt and barely conscious, lying on bunks against the wall of a small, dingy room.

Hawkins threw the woman over his shoulder while Tuskin gathered in the man. Staggering under their loads, they made their way back up the stairs and onto the parade field. The opposition was still disorganized as they headed toward the skimmer. A machine gun suddenly roared out of a window in the headquarters building and tore a row of puckered dirt toward Tuskin, the rounds rising and hitting the Russian on his left side, knocking him over onto the ground. He rolled to his feet and reached down to pick up Nabaktu and then halted. The African's head was a mass of blood and brain where one of the rounds had torn through it. Tuskin turned and fired in short arcs at the large building, blowing walls in, silencing the machine gun as Hawkins made it into the skimmer. The Russian turned and followed, the ramp sliding in and the door shutting.

The ping of rounds off the side sounded dimly within as Tuskin ran to the cockpit and activated the controls, getting the aircraft out of the compound and a safe distance away. By the time he was done and had rejoined Hawkins in the cargo bay, the American had the young black girl conscious and was examining her wounds.

"How is she?"

Hawkins pointed out the various injuries as he continued to work. "They used electricity on her nipples and vagina. The soles of her feet have been beaten. Three broken fingers on the right hand. I think she has a couple of cracked ribs. I don't think the lung was punctured. Some burn marks."

Tuskin nodded--the usual crude methods used by police states to gain information or simply to punish with the goal of supporting a regime of fear.

"I thought new people were in power," he commented.

"New people, same old shit," Hawkins replied. "Intertribal fighting is just as fierce as interracial."

"Who are you?" The words from Lona's swollen lips were barely audible. Her eyes were straining, trying to make sense of what she could see. "Where is Nabaktu?"

Tuskin was regarding her impassively, his hand already straying to the knife at his belt. "I don't think you'll need that," Hawkins said quietly. "I think she's already broken." He looked at her. "We need to know about the bomb."

"The bomb," Lona repeated numbly. "I told you about the bomb. I told you it was the only one. There are no more."

"There is one more," Hawkins said.

"No more," Lona repeated. "We only had the one."

"I know you only bought one. But the man you bought it from acquired two using your gold. We need to know who he is."

"I told you--he was a Russian."

"Tell us everything about him. Did you actually see him?"

Lona slowly nodded. "We met him once. In Angola. When we paid. He promised us the bomb later and he delivered. I did not want to trust him, but Nabaktu said we had no choice." She raised her head painfully, looking around the stark interior of the skimmer. "Where is Nabaktu? Where am I?"

"What did the Russian look like?" Tuskin asked, leaning over her.

"He scared me. His eyes were dead. I've seen those eyes before-the workers in the mines look like that after six months under the earth. But his were worse. He would as easily have killed us as talked to us. I don't know why he delivered the bomb-he had our gold. Nabaktu said it was because he was a professional. A man who kept his word."

"What did he look like?" Tuskin repeated, his hand caressing the handle of his knife.

Hawkins gave her a sip of water and she closed her eyes in concentration. "Tall. As tall as you. White haired. Thin. Very thin. His face was leathery--a man who spent much time in the outdoors." Her eyes opened as she suddenly remembered. "He had a large ring on his right hand. A black stone with some symbol etched into it."

Tuskin knelt down next to her, his eyes alert. "What kind of symbol?"

"It looked like a bird of some sort."

"A hawk with talons outstretched?" Tuskin asked. "Done in red on the black stone?" He held out his own hand and pointed. "Like this?"

The girl nodded. "That's it."

"Shit," Tuskin muttered, and then looked at Hawkins. "I know who it is." He held up the ring. "This ring is worn only by men who have been in Spetsnatz more than twenty years and served honorably. There is only one man who wears that ring and fits that description. And he is the one man who could have done what he did."

"Who?" Hawkins asked.

"Colonel Ivan Sergot. He was my Spetsnatz commander when we went into Kabul. An old friend and comrade."

"Why does your old friend and comrade want a nuclear bomb?" Hawkins asked.

Tuskin was nodding as he thought about it. "It all makes sense now. It's about his son."

"His son?" Hawkins asked, confused.

"His son was a helicopter pilot in the army. He died of radiation poisoning from flying missions over the power plant at Chernobyl, pouring concrete on the main reactor. They buried him right there. Just dumped a load of concrete on the bodies of the helicopter crews because they were too hot to put anywhere else."

"Jesus Christ," Hawkins muttered.

"Ivan went crazy for a while. He was removed from command and then retired a year ago. Last I heard he was living down near the Black Sea."

"You sure it's him?" Hawkins wanted to know.

Tuskin stood, ignoring the girl at his feet. "There's one way to find out." He moved to the front of the skimmer. "Let's land and get her out and then head north. If my guess is right, I think I know where he might have gone."

COOPERATION 

Ayers Rock, Australia

23 DECEMBER 1995, 2030 LOCAL

23 DECEMBER 1995, 1100 ZULU

The Russian admiral stared at the black Wall for a long time before turning back to Lamb. "It is the same as the photos my people sent of what they uncovered at Tunguska. The story your Major Hawkins told you is the same one our Colonel Tuskin told. He is reported to be a very reliable man."

Lamb's gut was still tied in knots. The K-25 helicopter bringing the ranking officer of the Russian fleet off the southern coast of Australia had landed a half hour earlier and he'd spent that time fully briefing a man whom he had worked hard the last several days trying to keep from knowing what was going on. It was an odd change for Lamb and he was having trouble adjusting to it.

The admiral turned to Lamb. "So what now? I have seen all this and can report to my superiors, but what does it all mean?"

Lamb shrugged. "I don't know. I think that is for your President and mine to decide between them." He looked the Russian in the eyes. "For me it means that we stop playing games-at least for now-and cooperate."

THE CRATER 

Meteor Crater, Arizona

23 DECEMBER 1995, 0400 LOCAL

23 DECEMBER 1995, 1100 ZULU

Fran stepped out into darkness, staggering slightly as she felt dirt under her feet. As her eyes adjusted, she could see stars faintly glinting overhead, but all around she was surrounded by darkness. It was as if she was at the bottom of a large bowl, with the sky circling overhead. "Where are we?" she asked.

It was Don who answered her. "We're in Arizona. I've been here before. We're at the bottom of Meteor Crater. Of course, I don't know when we are," he added.

"The location is correct," Pencak confirmed. "The when is your present."

"Then you don't need fixed sites like Tunguska and Ayers Rock to travel in time?" Fran asked.

"No," Pencak answered. "And traveling is not the right word for it. We bend space and time from our master control room in the future. We can travel to any time and any place on the planet. Debra Levy was very correct in her assumptions about wormholes, but she underestimated the scale to which it could be developed--which is very interesting, considering that, in our history, she was one of the key members of the team that developed time travel."

"Then why the whole setup at Ayers Rock if it wasn't necessary?" Don asked.

"Ah, but it was very necessary," Pencak replied. She lifted up her cane and squinted at the handle in the dark. "We only have an hour. I will try to do my best to explain what is happening in that time. It is most likely that you two will be the only ones who will know what has really occurred--what is still occurring. And that is how it must be--you must safeguard that knowledge. Many people have dedicated their lives to making what is happening occur. And we will not know for another hour if we have even begun to succeed. If we have, I, and the others like me, we will cease to exist."

Chernobyl, Ukraine 

23 DECEMBER 1995, 1410 LOCAL

23 DECEMBER 1995, 1110 ZULU

The massive mountain of concrete that had once been the Chernobyl nuclear power plant loomed on the horizon as Tuskin brought the skimmer to a landing next to a two-lane tar road covered with wisps of snow.

"You think he came here?" Hawkins asked as the craft settled with a slight bump.

"I'm sure he did," Tuskin answered. "The question is, is he still in the area?" Hawkins looked around as the door opened and they stepped out. "How hot is it out here?"

"We have a half hour with no ill effects. Longer than that"--Tuskin shrugged--"longer than that you might as well stay." He squinted into the wind blowing across the road and pointed. "There. That's the grave site. I had to do a recon of this area three years ago with Sergot. We flew in low and fast onboard helicopters, taking pictures for the scientists to look at. We all received a good dose of radiation then, but the government certainly didn't care. Sergot pointed out the grave to me. He is a very bitter man," he added unnecessarily. Hawkins understood bitterness quite well.

Hawkins leaned over and looked at the ground. "I think someone's been here in a truck." He reached down and cleared some freshly fallen snow away with his bare hand. "There are tire tracks frozen into the dirt on the side of the road here."

Tuskin examined the marks. "A four-by-four military vehicle. It had to be Sergot."

Hawkins looked around. "Where did he go? The old reactor?"

Tuskin shook his head. "He could have headed anywhere. Those tracks are several days old. He could be on the outskirts of Moscow or he could be sitting by the reactor building with the bomb armed, just waiting for the right moment to push the button. One thing's for sure--if he drove here, he's received a fatal exposure, so he has nothing to lose."

Tuskin rubbed his chin. "Let's check out the reactor building. Maybe we'll spot him there. If not, then there are many targets within a few days' ride of here that he could head for to take out his revenge. We will have to make an educated guess."

They tromped up the ramp into the skimmer and halted in amazement at the black-robed figure seated inside. The figure rose and gestured for them to come on board. "The trail is cold here and there's not much time." It was the same metallic voice the Speaker had used.

"Do you know where the other bomb is?" Tuskin asked.

"He is headed for Kapustin Yar."

"Shit!" Tuskin exploded. "We must stop him!"

"What's at Kapustin Yar?" Hawkins asked as the door slid up behind them.

Tuskin staggered over to the bench and sat down, ignoring the black-robed figure. "I should have guessed. Sergot would not waste his life in a futile gesture. He would go for the one target that would have the greatest effect."

"What's at Kapustin Yar?" Hawkins repeated, disturbed by how upset Tuskin was.

"It's a storage facility for weapons. Nuclear weapons. It's also where the SS-27's are stored."

Hawkins frowned. "SS-27's? I thought your latest version of the strategic missile was the 24."

Tuskin nodded weakly. "That's what almost everyone thinks. The 27 is not just a missile, though--it's what you would call a doomsday weapon. The final threat. I was involved in the security testing of the storage facility for the missiles at Kapustin Yar--as was Sergot. We were briefed on what was inside and it scared even me.

"The 27's are designed to be radioactively dirty. They took old booster rockets from the space program and put a guidance system on board. Then they put a relatively small-yield nuclear explosive in the payload area and then surrounded it with nuclear waste. We have much more nuclear waste than anyone in the West even begins to fear. All those warheads we had to disarm when the Cold War ended and the West would not help us dispose of the plutonium--the waste had to go somewhere.

"When the SS-27 warhead blows, the waste is spread, along with the fallout from the bomb itself, making the long-term effects devastating. There are only twenty of the SS-27's, but that was estimated to be enough to completely blanket Europe with such a high level of radiation as to make the continent unlivable for generations."

"Jesus Christ!" Hawkins exploded. "That's just goddamn great. So we're dealing with much more than one explosion here." He turned to the Speaker. "If you knew where the other bomb was all this time, why didn't you tell us?"

The Speaker didn't move and the mechanical voice was emotionless. "We could not interfere. You had to change things."

"Then why are you here now?" Hawkins demanded.

"Because we are running out of time. We can no longer control events as we thought we could. There are too many variables. Good luck."

"What are you talking about? Control what events? What's going on?" Hawkins asked as Tuskin made his way to the cockpit.

In reply a black portal appeared and the Speaker stepped through and disappeared, leaving Hawkins staring at empty space as the portal collapsed.

Meteor Crater, Arizona

23 DECEMBER 1995, 0420 LOCAL

23 DECEMBER 1995, 1120 ZULU

"Who are you?" Fran asked, shivering in the cold night air.

"My name isn't important," Pencak replied.

"But you're not Pencak?"

"For your purposes I am. I assumed her identity in 1954 when she died in a car crash. Ever since I have lived her life."

Fran asked the question that was troubling her the most. "Why? Why are you doing all this? Why did you pretend to be aliens?"

"In a way we are aliens," Pencak said. "The future we come from is very different from what you know." She paused briefly in thought. "But there really was an overriding reason why we have acted this way, and you of all people should understand it. We have statistical projection in our time--much improved over what you use. We reversed the process, looking for the critical node that we could go back to.

"When we asked our computers how to accomplish our goal, the favored solution-the only feasible solution--was to present the people of the past with an external threat--something that the various countries and powers-that-be could bond together against."

"What was your goal?" Batson asked.

"To change our history," Pencak replied.

"But why us? Why now?" Batson asked.

Pencak looked at some glowing numbers on the end of her cane. "Because in my past, in thirty-two minutes, a nuclear bomb is exploded near a secret weapons facility twelve hundred miles southeast of Moscow. The fallout from that explosion blankets most of Europe and eventually makes its way around the world, drastically affecting life on the planet. Economic and political chaos follows and the world drifts into what some have called World War III but is more appropriately called the Chaos." She pointed at herself. "I am one of the relatively healthy people from my time. You saw some of the others just before we left."

"Why didn't you just stop the bomb yourself?" Fran asked. "Why did you even allow the first one at Vredefort Dome to go off if you knew about it and could go back in time and stop it?"

"If you could go back in time, what action would you take to stop World War I?" Pencak asked. "Would you go back a few minutes prior to Archduke Ferdinand's assassination and kill the assassin?" She didn't wait for an answer. "But you would not know if you were successful until the time of the assassination and if you were wrong, then what? Maybe there was a plot of several conspirators that no one knew about and if you stopped the first assassin, there was another killer waiting down the street who would step forward and do the job.

"And even then, if you had stopped the archduke from being killed, would that necessarily have stopped the war? Or just delayed it, with the potential for even more disastrous results? There were many factors that led to that war, just as with any other war. The assassination was just the spark. Stopping that spark would just have allowed another spark, a potentially more dangerous spark, to ignite the conflict. The same was true for us when we looked back.

"As far as one of us coming back and trying to tell you that we came from the future-would you have believed us any more than you believed the alien theory, even when presented with insurmountable evidence? And even if you believed, would you have changed? You know as well as I do that people change only when they are forced to. We had to force you, and even now we are not sure how well we have succeeded. That is why you two must be the only ones who know the truth. The governments must still believe in the alien threat."

Pencak leaned on her cane. "We had several goals, all of which we needed to accomplish concurrently. We needed to allow the first bomb to go off to focus attention on the problem. You can recover from that explosion. In fact, it should be the spur for greater controls on nuclear weapons.

"Stopping the second bomb is just one of several actions that are taking place to change the course of our history. Even as we speak, there are unprecedented conversations going on between world leaders, focused on what they think--and we want them to think--they have found in Ayers Rock and at Tunguska. That cooperation is essential if the future is to turn out differently and mankind is to survive as a race. And that if there is some form of Coalition out there--and our computers indicate there most likely is--we will be accepted as a fit race for a civilized culture."

Pencak stopped suddenly and looked surprised for a second, and even in the dim light Fran could tell that the other woman was fading and then she was back again, as solid as ever.

"What's happening to you?" Fran asked.

"History is already slightly different than in my past," Pencak said. "Not so much yet that things might not turn out the same, but different nonetheless. We cannot control time--we can only travel in it. We have interfered with what happened in our past, and once our actions cause an irreversible change, we will no longer exist."

She smiled grimly. "Or at least that is what the computer says. No one knows for sure because no one has ever done this before. In my future we invented time travel only months prior to implementing our plan. I have lived an entire adult life here in the past, yet for my comrades in the future, only a few weeks have passed since I left. My fading is the effect of the ripples from the changes already made. The fact that I am still here, though, says none of the changes that have occurred so far are significant enough to have truly altered my past and your future.

"You spoke of history as a river whose course is very hard to change. So far we have only thrown stones in it. But when it does change, it will be a momentous thing for those of us in the future. Our channel of time will dry up and be gone."

"How did you destroy Voyager?" Batson asked suddenly.

"I planted a time-delay bomb in it while it was still being assembled in 1972. We knew the exact moment we wanted it destroyed, so it flew for all those years out of the solar system with that bomb waiting to go off."

"What about the messages for Levy?"

"My comrades sent those. I was surprised how quickly she determined how they were being sent. You were only supposed to pick up the part aimed for you--the two messages with Levy's name. The part that disappeared was my communication with my comrades." Pencak held up her strange cane. "The receiver is in the handle. I had to keep in contact."

"And this crater?" he asked. "It really was formed by meteors?"

Pencak gave her lopsided shrug. "I don't know. I have studied the crater and I do believe it was most likely formed by a nuclear explosion, but I have no idea how that could have happened. We took as many possible existing geological features that we could use and linked them together in a plausible story along with other factors we could manipulate to try and convince your world leaders that there was an alien threat. It remains to be seen how well we have succeeded. You do have to admit we presented a very realistic and believable scenario."

"Why us?" Fran went back to her original question. "Why Don and me?"

"Because of your son."

"Our son?" Batson said. "We hardly even know each other. Why would we have had a son in your past?"

"Because you are part of the Hermes Project. When the Chaos came, the government evacuated those in the Hermes Project. At first to West Virginia. Then, after a nuclear exchange between China and the United States left most of North America uninhabitable, the survivors were moved to Australia. You lived in a sealed underground complex under Ayers Rock for years, working on ways to try to reclaim a planet that was un-reclaimable. Your son was the leader who kept us going for all those years when our projections showed nothing but slow and horrible death. He kept us going until we achieved time travel and then he led the staff that planned this entire mission."

There was a long silence, and the howl of a coyote sounded out over the rim of the crater.

"Do you really think things will change for the better if Hawkins and Tuskin stop the other bomb from going off?"

"Things have already changed," Pencak said. "It cannot be much worse than the present I knew. The human race was dying as a species, with the entire planet not far behind. Our best-case projection gave us only another twelve point three years before humanity was extinct. We in the future have nothing to lose except a few more miserable years of life."