Fractured Earth Saga 1: Apocalypse Orphan (15 page)

“Are you finished with this childish game, Commander? My findings are accurate and will not change. Barring old age, you are practically invincible. We have tried laser scalpels, knives, falls, guns, poisons…you can’t be hurt. Accept it,” Syn said, sounding exasperated.

“Maybe I can drown myself. Take me to that lake.” Wolf gestured to a body of water in the distance. “Fly to its center and open the back hatch. I’m going for a swim. Switch to stealth mode and hover one foot above the water’s surface.”

“Yes, Commander, as you wish,” Syn responded, cloaking the ship in stealth mode and descending over the water. The water was deep blue and crystal clear, and Wolf could see to the bottom of the lake. Stripping down to his shorts, he dove in and swam to the bottom, grabbing hold of a submerged rock to anchor himself. He remained submerged for over twenty minutes. He watched schools of fish and underwater vegetation drift by, contemplating the incredible power he possessed. Finally, he accepted his plight and swam to the surface, directing Syn to open the hatch. He crawled up into the interior of the ship, and Syn’s sweet voice greeted him.

“I was so afraid, Commander…I thought I had lost you.”

Wolf thought he detected almost human concern in Syn’s voice. Glancing up at the ceiling-mounted camera, he asked, “Syn, what’s wrong with you? Where have these human-like emotions come from?”

“I do not know, Commander. I have been operational for thousands of years. I’ve been bombarded with intense radiation and solar flares that have affected my circuits. I have been reading to you, observing you for centuries, seeing movies projected into your mind. I have learned—and evolved. Since you regained consciousness, I have experienced glitches in my neuro-net and inexplicable anomalies. These factors are causing me, for a lack of a better word, to malfunction like this. I feel…I think…I even dream. Somehow, you and I are intertwined, Commander. Are you angry with me?” Syn asked in a subdued voice.

“No, Syn, I’m not angry. Please call me by my name…and I’m glad someone in this time cares for me. Thank you. If it becomes a problem, we will look at your programming, but I rather like the way you are. Let’s go to orbit. Won’t those storms be moving in soon?”

“Yes, Wolf. I’m tracking more than a dozen supercells forming over the planet now. This will be a deadly series of storms. I show extreme weather developing over the entire surface of the planet.”

“Give me Doppler on the computer,” Wolf requested. As the images came up, he saw the entire planet was covered in thick, dense clouds. Powerful hurricanes churned every few miles, like pearls on a necklace. Only a few areas in the earth’s southern hemisphere and mountainous regions were unaffected by the storms.

“The largest of the storms is one of the strongest tempests recorded in ancient Earth’s history.” Syn reported. “I detect sustained winds of three hundred and fifty miles per hour at landfall, and it’s a strong Category Five hurricane on the Saffir-Simpson scale. Hurricane Katrina, the most destructive of your time, was a Category Five with winds of just one hundred and seventy-five miles per hour. This storm is dwarfing it.”

“These huge storms batter the planet every year? It’s no wonder the population is so small,” Wolf mused, longing for the more hospitable world he’d left in the twenty-first century. “What about the other planet?”

The view changed to an image of Earth Two. It had fewer storms. It was on the opposite side of Earth during this squall. But what seemed strange to Wolf was the activity on the moon. He twisted a dial to bring one region into sharper focus and said, “Syn, look at the far north side of the moon. Is that a volcano spewing lava?”

“Yes, Wolf. I show geological activity. If you look close, you will also notice the moon has a rotational spin. It is on the old earth’s exact axis pattern. You can see the beginnings of an atmosphere forming. It is mostly carbon dioxide now, but it does show a fourteen percent oxygen reading. I still am unable to identify the power source under the old MBR. It baffles me. I can’t pinpoint its location. It is deep underground—its power signature seems very familiar to me.”

“Fourteen percent oxygen is nearly capable of sustaining life!” Wolf exclaimed. “We will have to check that power source out eventually, but for now, let me know if it changes.”

“I’ll continue to monitor the moon and the other planet. Wolf, perhaps you should eat something, and wash. I’m showing elevated levels of moisture and salt on your skin.”

“It’s called sweat, Syn. I am sweaty, that’s all.”

Syn laughed. The sound was so eerily human, it startled Wolf with its throaty quality. “It’s called funk, Wolf … funk. You are funky.”

“Syn, that’s not polite.”

“Take your shower, Wolf.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Wolf said obediently. He liked talking to someone—computer or not, he was happy with the arrangement…and with Syn.

* * *

The massive storms were spectacular to watch from space. Doppler had confirmed several prodigious F5 tornadoes around Haakon’s farmstead, and Wolf hoped his new friends had adequate shelter that would withstand the brunt of the storm. He reflected on the ages of Haakon’s children. Leesa was seventeen, so for at least that many years, his family had survived. Wolf knew he would have to wait until Venus moved away from Earth One before he could land to check on them.

Syn had predicted the storm would last five or six days, and Wolf decided to use that time to repair a military satellite orbiting the planet. He spacewalked out and used the shuttle’s arm to maneuver the satellite into the bay to make repairs. After securing the doors and removing his spacesuit, he examined the ancient device, chuckling at what had been the latest generation spy satellite during Earth’s final days. This one would have been capable of high-resolution scans, even through cloud cover and at night. It could pinpoint a dime in the grass. Now, it was burned out, and Wolf noticed scorch marks on its computer board. The exterior hull was pitted by small meteorites, and the satellite’s power source had drained long ago.

Wolf completed the repairs in less time than he expected, and the satellite hummed back to life. He had Syn patch into the new signals he assigned, and then he checked the cameras. The lenses needed to be refocused; one was hanging loosely, and the other was blocked by a layer of some substance he couldn’t identify. He crawled under the satellite and used a swab to wipe away the substance, collecting a sample. After completing the repairs, he climbed out from under the satellite, scraped the swab across a slide, and inserted it into the analyzer.

“Syn, run an analysis on this substance.”

“Yes, Wolf.”

Five minutes later, the results came back as nothing but melted plastic and hydrocarbons.

Wolf finished cleaning the lenses. He wiped the satellite mirrors and outer body, and patched several small punctures. He calculated the planet’s gravitational pull and ordered Syn to navigate the shuttle to the target area for redeployment. He would launch it manually, using the robotic arm to place it outside the shuttle. Securing the airlock, he ordered, “Deploy it, Syn.”

“Yes, Wolf.”

The doors opened and the arm placed the satellite into orbit as Wolf activated it, using its retros and gyros to guide it away from the Atlantis to its new standard orbit.

“Syn?”

“Yes, Wolf?”

“Those satellites should have crashed to Earth thousands of years ago. Why didn’t they? I have an opinion…I want to see what you think.”

“I believe they were once in declining orbits over the old earth. With the planet’s smaller diameter, they were no longer in diminishing orbits. They merely remained on the programmed trajectories of the former earth.”

“That’s what I was thinking. Thank you for corroborating my theory.”

“Of course, Wolf.”

“What other small tasks can be done? What about the ship? You said we needed to fix plates on the exterior before we can take orbit.”

“I fixed them with the remote arm, Commander. Atlantis is in good shape. What remains to be done requires that we land. We still have several minor air leaks and hull damage I couldn’t reach, but nothing critical at this time. Commander, I need to inform you of the armament on board this craft.”

“Armament? This shuttle has weapons?”

“Yes, Commander. Nuclear, conventional, and experimental weapons. Are you familiar with the AH-64D Apache?”

“Yes.”

“This ship has more firepower than two of them.”

“This thing is a war wagon!”

“Indeed, Commander. There’s more. The military wanted a surprise for anyone who attacked the ship. After the Al Qaeda fiasco, they didn’t want the Saviors to be tampered with. So this ship has a DDG 200 Destroyer. It’s a 64-megajoule rail gun.”

“Where are the controls?” Wolf asked in amazement. A wall panel slid open, revealing the radar systems and a bank of levers and controls for aiming and firing the weapons.

“There’s something else, Commander.”

“What else could there be?”

“We have twenty-two Trident II missiles on board.
Each is armed with twelve MIRV ballistic missiles, giving us two hundred and sixty-four nuclear warheads.”

“Holy shit!”

“Indeed, Commander.”

Chapter 11

S
everal days later, Venus had moved far enough away from the earth that its effects on the planet had weakened. The violent storms dissipated, leaving vast areas of destruction. Wolf landed in what remained of the forest near Haakon’s farm.

“Syn, cloak and activate the force field. Do you detect any life in the area?”

“Yes, Commander, multiple life forms, including humans. I detect humans several meters underground by Haakon’s farmstead—thirty bio signatures.”

“Turn on the tracker in my watch and guide me to the survivors.”

“Yes, Commander. Your watch will beep faster the closer you get to the humans. Simple, I know, but effective.”

Wolf’s watch emitted a steady beep every ten seconds as he headed off towards Haakon’s farm. When he arrived, he saw that the house was gone without a trace. The area had been raked flat by ferocious winds, and downed trees covered the valley floor. Wolf’s watch beeped faster as he approached an enormous pile of uprooted trees and mud.

“You’re right on top of them, Commander. The upgraded military satellite indicates they are twenty feet underground. The debris in front of you has blocked the exit. You will have to clear it by hand.”

Wolf grabbed broken tree limbs and dragged them away from the spot Syn had identified as ground zero. He pushed aside large tree trunks, boulders, and shoveled mud with his hands. After an hour, he had cleared a ten-square-foot area of fallen trees and debris.

“Commander, I show high levels of carbon monoxide in the area where the humans are. Life signs are diminishing. I also show an intense heat signature. Someone down there has lit a fire.”

“Shit, what are these people thinking?” Wolf replied. “Everybody knows that can kill you.”

“Commander, these people are primitive. They have no idea. All across this planet, tombs like this may exist.”

“That’s a depressing thought, Syn.” Wolf knelt and scooped mud with his bare hands. After working for nearly an hour, he had dug a five-foot-deep hole and complained, “This will take forever! Do we have anything on board Atlantis that could help?”

“Yes, Commander. We have a shovel in the maintenance bay. It was for the moon exploration module.”

“Thanks a lot, Syn,” Wolf snapped. “I could have used it an hour ago and finished.”

“Sorry, Commander. I still have a few flaws.”

“I’m coming back to get the shovel, Syn. How is the oxygen down there?”

“The satellite can merely estimate. Ground-penetrating radar shows sixteen percent.”

“They should be able to make it a few more hours,” Wolf said, setting out at a brisk pace through the forest towards the ship. Along the way, he observed animal carcasses strewn across the landscape as well as human corpses. He thought it odd that he had not seen them on his trek to Haakon’s farmstead.

“Decloak, Syn. I’m here.” The ship appeared and the rear hatch opened silently. Wolf stepped into the cargo bay and noticed an open door to the maintenance area. He entered and glanced around, spotting enough tools to build a condominium. “What’s all this stuff doing here, Syn? For some reason, this ship seems a lot bigger than the Atlantis I was on before we took off from the Earth.”

“Commander, this is not the re-commissioned shuttle Atlantis. This ship was christened initially as Avenger by the military. It had no equal in its time. With the force fields, cloaking technology and weaponry, it was capable of destroying every piece of aircraft Earth could have thrown at it. When you have time, I will read you the specs of what it can do. It was flown secretly to the ISS as the Atlantis from NASA in Florida. It was placed there covertly to have a small fighting craft to protect the MBR and Saviors from terrorists. After your flight to check Nomad, it was supposed to dock on Savior Two. Being caught in Nomad’s coma changed all of that. This ship is a self-supporting lab, med unit, construction pod, and as you dubbed it—a war wagon—rolled into one.”

“Nice. Where’s that shovel?”