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BABEL
By Wayne Webb
CHAPTER 44
Barbara was staring open
mouthed at the sky above her standing on the edge of the caldera at
the top of Rangitoto, with the suspended missiles hanging the air
above her by a few hundred feet at most, dwarfed by the Saucer that
covered them all from the sun and bathed them in the same glow that
lit Brown's Island at night time.
In the middle of the
caldera, the bush covered depression in the extinct volcano that sat
in the middle of Auckland Harbour, Victor had brought two of the
missiles from the boat that they had brought over. There were four
all told where the road stopped being drivable, but they made the
decision to only use two of them considering that it had taken them
nearly four hours to get a single missile up here using the twisted
tracks, through the knobbly rocks and pumice that littered the ground
and gnarled the trees and bush that now ruled this cold rock.
“It's no use!” Barbara
was screaming down to him as he used a pick to chop away at the
ground, softening it up for the missile placement. Victor ignored her
and carried on with his tinkering, stopping to chop away at the
ground a few more times.
They had seen the missiles,
heard the roar from so very close, from the vantage point at the peak
they even could see the men on the submarine pointing pathetically at
the sky, willing the warheads to detonate, willing them to break
through the forcefield or shielding that was holding them and to
impact.
She looked back and saw that
he was still not moving, and the missiles just hung there perfectly
still not affected by any breeze or motion, frozen in time and space.
Barbara walked carefully down the side of the crater, tripping over
bush roots, stones and greenery. The island had been inactive,
labelled dormant and extinct for centuries, and was a lush paradise
for plants and animals with little or no human contact. It was not
far and soon she stood next to the man who's plan she had followed so
carefully and now it seemed so ineffectual and useless given the
might of the nuclear missiles she assumed were suspended above her
now.
“Victor?” She started
kindly.
“Give me a minute, I'm
almost done.” Victor was consulting the manual and making some
changes to the exposed wiring behind a panel he had prised loose to
get at the control mechanism and give it some basic arming and
control instructions.
“It's no use, you won't
get anywhere near it, just look!” Barbara was pointing up at the
sky and trying to look sympathetic when Victor just laughed, long and
hard at what she said.
“Darling. I am not trying
to get these missiles near them. We are already near them.” He
laughed a little more and kicked at the ground, a dusty film rose a
little at his feet. Then he made a connection with some wires and two
green lights flicked on to a printed circuit board and he rubbed his
hands together. “Done.”
Barbara was confused and she
sat down, noticing the ground that Victor had been chopping away at
was loose and moved under her when she shifted her weight around.
“It's not about what you
think it is.” Victor suddenly looked sad and he looked her in the
eye and put a hand on her shoulder. “Id' tell you to leave, but
honestly you would not get far enough, not in time, you'd be better
off being here. At Ground Zero, it'll be quick and you won;t even
know. I promise.”
Now she was scared. “Victor?
What do you mean.”
Now he looked up at the
Saucer and the missiles hanging there and he wagged his finger in the
air.
“That's a nice trick. Try
holding this motherfucker back you alien bastards!” The finger
became a shaking fist and his grimace became a bloody grin.
“Victor? What are you
going to do?” Barbara felt a cold chill go over her. She had
thought that they would shoot the aliens out of the sky, they'd watch
it crash land into the sea, hopefully not on top of them and then
they'd be free of the Alien Invaders, the ones who had come and taken
away their freedom and the so very human connection for 99.9 percent
of the population. She expected to win, to push back the aliens, the
ones she had never seen, the cowardly invaders that had sent a virus
to soften up the world and then sent ships to zombiefy the humans,
body snatching them to do the dirty work and not once show their
faces.
She didn't really think
about the consequences, not really facing the act that death was a
potential outcome of taking on the aliens only a few hundred feet
from the biggest structure she had ever seen.
Now though she saw that
Victor had a different plan all along and that far from being
ineffectual and unlikely to succeed she saw what he really was
planning and it was a certain death for himself and for her. Probably
for all of the people across the bay below them in the submarine, and
maybe the majority of people in the City, alien possessed or not,
they would not live through this. The nuclear warheads, they may well
have been prevented from reaching their target, if they had made it
through there was a distinct possibility that they would have, could
have taken the ship out entirely but also laying waste to hundreds of
square miles of land and sea all around. The submarine though, they
had launched their attack and they lost control of their plan and
their weapons due to a superior technology and a ship crewed with the
aliens who obviously knew how to defend themselves from these
weapons, render them useless lumps of metal and radioactive
materials.
She stood back from him and
held her mouth over her hands and then turned and ran as fast as she
could out of the extinct crater, scrabbling through the scoria, the
brush falling away and the stomping of her feet into the ground. Each
dig her stride made churned more dirt and increased the salty, sickly
smell that she had started to get a whiff of when Victor was digging.
She crested the ridge of the
caldera and kept running, all the way back to the track, not looking
back once. It took her a few minutes but she got to the car at the
end of the road and all fingers and thumbs she started it up after
dropping the keys a few times and her trembling hands steadied
themselves to take the steering wheel for the bumpy ride back to the
better part of the road on the rangers four wheel drive, missiles
still intact on the back, adding weight to the tray of the truck and
helping her keep her balance as the back end jumped and danced with
her frantic driving over very uneven surfaces.
When she got to the boat she
could see the submarines crew standing on the foredeck waving to her
as she drove to the boat. She had to decide in a split second to
either abandon the boat and head for the submarine, hoping to god
that they could get away under water, or to take of across the
surface banking on the speed of the outboards to get her far enough
away.
Victor was right, and
neither option would work out to her survival, she could not get far
enough fast enough unless they could get in the air and get away five
minutes ago. Resigned to her fate she walked along the wharf to the
boat and sat on the edge of the jetty, her legs dangling as she
waited to die.
Captain Frank headed the
team that took a dinghy from the sub to the wharf where they saw the
woman drive up so maniacally, so frantically and then come to a
sudden halt. He left his first officer in charge and came to talk to
her, the plan they had worked out was just hanging mid air completely
useless to them and they had lost all comms back to the provisional
government of New America, so they were one hundred per cent alone.
“Hello, Ma’am?” Frank
extended a hand to her but she just stared at the waves lapping at
the boat she knew it was useless to get into to try and escape.
“We're going to die.”
She said bluntly.
“Well, that's a pretty
negative view.”
“It's not. It's a fact, we
are going to die. He has two missiles up there.” She pointed
backwards without looking at the peak of the island.
Frank laughed. “I don't
know who he is Ma'am, but we have twenty of them and they're just
about as useless as tits on a bull if you don't mind the salty
language Ma'am.”
Barbara looked at him for
the first time and Frank felt her fear and finality in the look she
gave him.
“You know what your
problem is …? ummm?” She looked for his name.
“Frank, Captain Frank
Grundy of the USS...”
She cut him off with a wave
and an exaggerated American accent, “Well Howdy, Captain Frank! My
name is Barbara. And you know what the problem with your missiles
are? Captain Frank?”
“No Ma'am, but I just know
you're about to tell me.” He smiled and waited for the inevitable
superiority from a civilian who knew nothing about ordinance,
missiles or the power they pack inside of them.
“Well, the problem is one
that my friend. My friend Victor, he already figured out the problem
and he found a solution. I don't suppose that you have anything to
drink on you? Like some alcohol, in flask or something, don't you
Navy types carry rum or whiskey or something? I could really use a
drink.”
Frank did have a hip flask
and it contained his favourite single malt whiskey, he fished it out
and offered to Barbara who took it and down much more than Frank
thought she could have handled, coughing and sputtering as the liquid
burned her mouth and tore at her watering eyes. She took another sip
when she settled herself and coughed a few times and handed the flask
back.
“Now, better? I don't
suppose we could get back to the solution to our...” Frank pointed
at his missiles just hanging there “... little problem?”
“I didn't realise it at
first, but they were just lying down for him to work on.” She
shrugged at her words and then looked at Frank with an air of
resignation. “They were lying down, they were pointed down.”
“I don't understand Ma'am,
what are you saying? Pointed what down?” Frank was beginning to
wonder if this woman was mad, but how much madder than seeing his
entire arsenal trapped in an alien forcefield unable to be remote
detonated.
“The problem with you
missiles is that they were pointed up, at the … thing up there. He.
Victor. He pointed his down, at the ground. In the middle, where it's
beginning to crack, from that … thing.”
Frank scratched his head,
removing his cap and looking more confused.
“You're not from around
there then?”
“No Ma'am.”
“This? This is Mount
Rangitoto, in Maori that means Bloody Sky.”
He looked at his men across
the bay, this was getting him nowhere. “I'm afraid I still
don't...”
Before he could finish his
sentence they heard a echoing roar of rockets firing and then a crump
of an explosion, followed by another on it's heels and then silence.
“What the fuck was that?
Excuse my language Ma'am.”
She looked Captain Frank and
then the rumbling began, violent and thunderously the entire world
they could see shook like a bell.
“I forgive you.” She
whispered, but it was not meant for him to hear anyway.
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