Alexey Lukina had been invited to the Vostochny Cosmodrome to witness the culmination of his efforts to restore his country as the premier world power. Russian scientists had improved the fusion design the Lukina had stolen. The device was 20% smaller but had nearly 50% more power input. They had made tradeoffs. It had greatly reduced durability and efficiency, but these factors were not important. The reduced weight allowed more flexibility with the cooling system, which allowed the first phase of the project to be completed a month ahead of schedule. He was proud of what Russian engineers had accomplished in such a short time. Alexey had heard an unknown young genius was promoted to run the project, skipping over a half dozen more senior and respected members of their special projects group. Though it was a surprise in the strongly conservative organization, most of the critics had been quieted when the results exceeded their expectations. Not only was the project delivered ahead of schedule, but they produced two functional weapons instead of just one prototype. This would allow them to attack aggressively from the start and provide some defense against counterattacks.
Their weapon would be short-lived. It could fire in ten-minute intervals for about one hour before needing twice as long to radiate excess heat. The magnets were expected to fail after about a week if they followed the recommended rate of fire. If they shortened the cooling times, it would reduce the lifespan to as little as two days. Their target list included some spy satellites, Nato air bases, missile silos (or missiles in the air if needed). They even planned to hit the President and the Pentagon with the first two shots, assuming the launch went as planned. This would cause the confusion needed to rapidly overwhelm the US strategic response, and they could overrun most of Europe in weeks.
In two days, the world order would be overturned and his life’s work complete. Alexey watched with joy as the first rocket launched. Everything was working as designed. The weapon detached from their rocket as it entered the carefully planned orbit that would take it over their enemy.
As the second rocket launched, the excited atmosphere grew a bit strained. The trajectory of the second rocket was diverging from the plan. Alexey had admitted there was a chance one of their launches or devices could fail. They had contingencies in place, but the overwhelming strike would lose some of its impact, and their dreams of a quick victory faded. The reality would now be a more challenging path. His irritation was compounded by a lot of yelling that could be heard throughout the room. The General in charge of their grand strategy was pointing out the implication of this failure to the Cosmodrome Director.
“Sir, the second weapon is charging to fire.” A technician spoke up.
“What? The first target is in Germany. It’s 8000 miles away. What is it firing at?!” The General, his face red, paled a bit. Their weapon was over the far Eastern part of Russia, closer to Japan and China than Europe.
Alexey had a sinking feeling. Then, with a bright flash, the control center was gone.
----------------------------------------
Scott was pleased the next day to wake up without a hangover. He checked his phone and saw that there were missed calls and a text from Melinda that he should contact her as soon as possible. As he was dialing, a loud knocking started at his door.
Alarmed, Scott got up and checked the camera to see one of the Security personnel outside.
“Hello, what’s going on?” Scott asked, opening the door.
“We’re spread thin right now. A lot of people are hung over, so I’m going door to door,” the guard announced, speaking quickly. “Since you are up, please call your boss and get ready quickly. We were notified of a Russian space launch less than an hour ago.” The man announced, then quickly left and started banging on the next door.
Scott rushed inside, took a few minutes to get ready, then called Melinda.
“Are we under attack?” Scott asked immediately.
“I’m too busy to talk long,” Melinda replied, sounding stressed. “We’re evacuating the surface facilities. We don’t know their orbital path, but they could be in range right now or in several hours. Nadia thinks they took a slightly higher orbit, so they could hit more targets in the Eastern Hemisphere. We don’t have good data, but contacts in the US said the military is going on high alert. I have to go, so please don’t go anywhere until we know more.” With that, Melinda hung up on him.
Scott decided to check up on his friends. Most had stayed out late for the parties. He was especially concerned that Barry and Elsa had been at the beach house and spent the night there. He was unable to contact either of them.
Most of his other friends were in Proteus. He went to the transportation hub and saw the gondola cars were filled with people he didn’t recognize, moving over from the main house. He saw Angela nearby talking on her phone. When she saw him, she held up a finger. A few seconds later, she had finished her call and came to talk with him.
“Scott! We had a lot of guests sleeping off hangovers at the house, and it’s been slow-going getting them out. We only had four guards over there. The robots are not programmed for evacuating drunks, and our robotics programmers were passed out and difficult to wake up this morning. The guards have just been hauling people into the gondola cars. Some guests are not cooperating, and we don’t know how much time is left.”
“Do you know if they evacuated Barry and Elsa?” Scott asked about his friends.
“I haven’t seen them come in. We just started having people arrive. There are probably two hundred they need to move.”
Scott paused for a second. In theory, if everyone was awake and cooperative, they could evacuate the house in about fifteen minutes. The first few cars would include the people who had not drunk too much or could function hungover. Once they had to start hauling people who were refusing to move or fighting against them, the guards would only be able to load a few people per car. It could take an hour to clear out. Scott had a suspicion that Barry would be one of the difficult drunks. Scott made what he hoped was not a stupid decision and entered one of the touring submarines.
“Scott! You need to stay here. It’s too dangerous to go back there.” Angela called frantically.
He ignored her, shut the hatch and sped towards the shore. His hands were sweaty, but he was not as terrified as he should be. It was the stupid brain adjustments. Scott’s normal fear response would have made sure he avoided something this dumb, but Melinda’s surgery had reduced it just enough that he was about to get himself killed. Scott almost turned around right away when he realized why he had made the decision. Still, there is a certain momentum to bad decisions. Before Scott could convince himself to turn around and admit his mistake, he was nearly to the underground submarine dock near the beach house.
Not knowing if he had one minute or an hour, Scott looked around. The gondola cars were nearby and a few people boarding looked at him in surprise. A security guard, looking exhausted, ran in from outside carrying a man who must have weighed 250 pounds and was struggling. The guard shoved the man into the car, and some of the other passengers helped hold him in as the door shut and the car accelerated.
The inverted gondola had a clever system where the cars never stopped moving, but at the loading and unloading point they rose above the water and slowed down to about one mile per hour or less. As the cars reached neutral buoyancy on the surface, the cable no longer gripped the hooked arm below the cabin. At this point, they were moved slowly around a semicircular loading area by pumped water currents. A platform alongside allowed passengers to walk along and step into the slowly moving cars. Once the doors closed, they would re-engage the cable and get pulled beneath the water and accelerate quickly to roughly eight times their speed on the loading platform.
The guard, breathing hard, yelled at Scott, “What are you doing? We need to get people out of here!”
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
Scott started up the ramp to the outside, yelling. “I’m here to help evacuate. I’ll leave soon.”
The last thing he needed was the guard trying to wrestle him into one of the cars. Scott might lose most of his sparring matches with the guards, but there was no way they could force him in their current state.
“Fine!” the guard Caesaro must have come to the same conclusion. “We have cleared out most of the cooperative people who heard us yelling. There are stragglers passed out by the pool, in the yard, and locked in some of the rooms who we need to carry out.”
“Have you seen Barry?” Scott asked. He didn’t even feel guilty prioritizing his friend over a bunch of people he didn’t know.
“Sorry, not yet.” Caesaro, went over to a man curled up under a table on the patio and started dragging him out. Scott didn’t wait and charged into the house. His guess was that Barry would have passed out early and probably was moved to one of the rooms with Elsa there to keep an eye on him.
Scott saw a guard banging on locked doors, yelling for people to open up.
“We don’t have time for that!” Scott growled. He kicked the door as hard as he could, and his foot went right through the painted aluminum. In the movies they always flew open, but now he was standing on one foot with his other stuck through a door, looking like a fool. He painfully pulled his leg out, getting a large gash from a jagged piece of the metal. The guard looked at him, torn between concern and trying not to laugh.
Scott reached through the hole and unlocked the door. There were four people inside, two in a bed and two with blankets on the floor. He didn’t recognize them. One woman was awake with headphones on, playing with her phone. When she saw them enter, she gave a little scream.
“Not the people I’m looking for,” Scott said to the guard. “Please get them out.”
Scott realized this was taking too long and once again considered leaving. He thought, I’ll just check one more room.
The next closed door, he kicked again. This time he aimed for the thicker part near the handle and lock. The door bent in, not opening, but at least his foot wasn’t stuck. He slammed into the warped door with his shoulder, and it opened with a squeal. The door struck someone on the floor, who had been lying nearby.
“Ow!” the man complained. It was Barry!
Looking around the room, Scott saw a disgusting pile of plates with half-eaten food, and dozens of partially filled cups and bottles. There were five other people in the room. Three were awake, holding their heads and complaining bitterly. Two sleepers looked like they had ear plugs, including Elsa.
The sleepers were in better shape, and they managed to get the group moving. Scott was frustrated by the slow pace, eyeing the sky nervously. He almost lost it when a girl started walking the other direction, claiming she had to pee. Scott started shoving people. He was half carrying Barry with one arm and dragging the complaining bathroom break girl with the other. It took about five minutes before they arrived at the dock.
While he was gone, someone had entered his sub and was curled up on the floor, passed out. There was a nasty smell inside, and a small puddle of something he didn’t want to identify. This caused the bathroom break girl to freak out and start fighting his attempt to get her in the sub. Scott was tempted to just let her leave, but instead punched her in the jaw, knocking her out before tossing her inside. The others looked at him in shock, but he didn’t care. He had just hit a woman, and she would probably sue him for a few million, but Scott was more concerned they were about to be flash fried by an orbital laser.
He shoved everyone else in, probably more violently than necessary, as a couple bickered about which one would have to sit near the smelly guy. Finally, the hatch closed on an angry group of people, some of whom were piled uncomfortably on the floor. Scott shoved his way to the pilot's seat, then headed out at maximum speed. After five more minutes, the passengers had sorted themselves out and were now mostly organized enough to complain to Scott about his rough treatment.
Elsa tried to calm them down and prevent them from interfering with his driving. They pressed her hard until Scott heard a few thumps and the sound of fists smacking into flesh rapidly.
“Idiots!” Elsa complained. The complaints had been replaced with a few moans, and one guy complaining about how she had broken his arm.
Scott should have known Elsa would have upgrades. She didn’t look bulky and over-muscled like him, but the improvements she had were more than enough to overpower a few angry drunks. She sat down in the seat next to him.
“I probably shouldn’t admit that was fun.” Elsa glared back at the subdued passengers. She didn’t have any martial arts training, but their passengers had made a mistake challenging the boss of a company that created super soldiers.
As they approached the Proteus hangar, there was a bright flash from above. The submarine was slammed into the sea floor. Scott was dazed for a few seconds. Elsa had not been wearing a seatbelt and slammed into the ceiling with the impact. Their passengers were in worse condition. Several had not been strapped in and were flung around with the impact. Unlike Elsa, they did not have an upgraded bone structure. Scott could see arms and legs bent at odd angles. One passenger had blood coming from an ear and he wasn’t moving. Four passengers including Barry had been strapped in. They had taken only minor injuries from the shockwave and others flying around. The submarine still functioned, but the hanger had been sealed from the inside with an emergency pressure door. Scott knew those doors would shut if there was damage that caused a leak.
Regaining his focus, Scott looked around and saw a large chunk of metal narrowly miss the submarine before slamming into the ground. The water was cloudy with silt and sand that had been stirred up. Their dock platform had been destroyed, and it was collapsing to one side along with a crumpled elevator shaft. This in turn destroyed a good chunk of their farming lattice as it fell. The luxury towers looked unharmed. Scott took a breath while trying to decide his next move.
He was eager to learn what was going on, but getting his passengers medical care was the first priority. Scott turned the sub around and headed towards a different entrance that was near the offshore Spa facilities.
After a five-minute trip, he found the hangar airlock functional and entered inside. Several Spa employees helped take his passengers to the medical center.
“Scott, you probably saved our lives. I’ll make sure they know these idiots know that.” Elsa said, clasping her hands.
“We made a big mistake trying to get back to normal. The Russians were much further along than we thought, and I have no idea what our other enemies are up to.” Scott looked away. The party had been Nadia’s idea, although no one had protested much. They had been under so much pressure; everyone was desperate to think they could go back to normal. In hindsight, he wondered what she had been thinking.
Scott called Melinda.
“Hello Scott, I was worried about you.” Melinda answered.
“We were in a submarine when something hit the docks right above us. Barry and Elsa are OK, but some other people were injured. I don’t really know what happened and how many people were hurt.”
“The Russians managed to launch two weeks earlier than expected,” Melinda growled. “Our communications with the outside world are down now, but we learned they first struck multiple targets in Russia and China.”
“How much did they destroy here? Do you know the details?” Scott asked.
“Yes. You saw they blew up our floating docks. They also hit our beach house. Again! They must not have known about the location of the artificial island or spaceport. The SpaceX rocket was unharmed. We just moved the rocket to the new island, and they must not have known about it. Seems like they have been operating from old information and satellite pictures.” Melinda paused, seeming to be waiting on another conversation.
Melinda continued, “I don’t know if they hit our farm or the Xibalba tunnel pyramids. Our communications outside the base are fried. We’re running an antenna, so hopefully we can get information soon. There are other people trying to talk to me now, so I’m going to let you go.” Melinda hung up on Scott.
Scott helped where he could, then was kicked out of the facility to let the doctors and nurses do their work. He eventually found Barry sitting outside their security office.
“Man, our party last year was so much better,” Barry said with a lame attempt at humor.
“Do we know if everyone made it out of the house?” Scott asked, not in the mood for Barry’s nonsense.
“Yeah, I haven’t heard much. The gondola cable snapped, and the cars floated to the surface. Some people already went out to rescue them. They should have a better idea if any of the people were still there. I feel bad about our complaining and fighting when you were rescuing us.” Barry said.
“No one likes to get dragged out of bed after a party. I lost my patience a bit there but hope anyone I hurt will forgive me.” Scott admitted.
“Are you kidding? You saved our lives. If anyone gives you crap, I’ll send Elsa to beat them up.” Barry chuckled darkly. Apparently, he had seen what his girlfriend did on the submarine.
As the day went on, Scott learned that the floating dock had been hit first and was already fully evacuated. The large explosion provided warning for the people evacuating the beach house. There were about ten minutes between blasts. The Russian weapon required time to charge up as expected. The guards never made it to the gondola before the second strike. Eventually, when communications were up, they learned that the guards had kicked and dragged ten people out of the house and made it far enough that they only suffered some bruises and ruptured eardrums. Much later, when digging through the wreckage, they learned three people never made it out.