The Phoenix Project (12 page)

Why Did Lucifer Kiss Softly?

 
by Lauren
White

Chapter V

Elliot vented
his frustration with a hard click to the remote in his right hand. The INN’s news anchor disappeared from the screen as did his
supposedly objective views. They had reported the loss of the Central States
with a great deal of sympathy for a full day before starting reports of the Alliance’s vulnerability
to outside attacks from aliens.

    
They seemed to be looking for sensationalized
headlines to boost their ratings and it had worked. Their viewership remained
as high as it was during the Moon Crisis. Now words like “Alien Attack” and
“Impending Threat from Extra—Terrestrials!” had become bolded words across the
bottom of the screen.

    
Millions of refugees had been deposited on
Earth, Mars and the outer colonies stretching the local government’s resources
to absorb them. Somehow the INN had gotten
hold of classified documents and reported the Alliance Fleet’s shortcomings in
the near future.

    
A destroyed satellite and a big crater
seemed reason enough to remove the Alliance
and allow the Coalition to reign unopposed. Of course those opinions came from INN reporters and critics well paid by “anonymous”
donors.

    
From what the news had reported as a
footnote to their daily political attacks on the Alliance, the crater had begun to fill with
water from rivers that had once flowed through the area. They had come up with
three finalists for a name for the emerging body of water. The “American Sea” was by far the most popular in
public opinion and was likely to be the moniker for the new geological feature.

    
He heard a signal beep from his screen.
Elliot acknowledged it with a vocal command. The view of the giant crater in
the Earth changed to Joshua’s face on the bridge of his ship.

    
“Josh,” Elliot said, thinking of the
captain’s location two decks away. “Why didn’t you just come down?”

    
“Sorry Eli, we’re a little busy up here
with the cleanup efforts. We’re still blowing up Moon garbage.”

    
“What’s your progress?” Elliot asked.

    
“Most of it’s gone now. I’ve got to admit
that it’s been a little easier than I thought it’d be. That blast blew the Moon
to tiny pieces.”

    
“Tiny?”

    
“Relatively speaking, I guess,” Joshua said.
“Most of what we had to do was just make big pieces into little pieces. The
rest is starting to settle into orbit.”

    
“That still must be a bit of a problem with
pieces of the moon everywhere.”

    
“We’re taking care of that with the Grav
beams. Earth is going to have a ring around it.”

    
“And all this time, I thought Grav beams
were used to tow ships around. A ring sounds nice though,” Elliot said.

    
“Considering what we lost getting it, I
want the Moon back.”

    
“So why the call, Josh?”

    
“I’ve got orders from HQ for you and your
underlings.”

    
“I’m glad the slaves are doing their job,”
Elliot said.

    
“Just doing my best for my master. I’ll
read it to you, hold on,” Joshua paused for a second as he brought up the
correct page on his link. “To Admiral Elliot Fredericks and his staff: The
Horizon Project has been shelved indefinitely. Admiral Maria Peterson has been
reassigned to command of the Second Battle Group. Admiral Elliot Fredericks is
ordered to continue the Phoenix Project to its full conclusion. Engineering
crews are ready to assemble the required base within one standard month with
the completion of said project within three. Choose base site ASAP. End of
orders.”

    
“Wow.”

    
“I know.”

    
“Yeah, you sounded like a professional when
you read that,” Elliot said.

    
“Thanks, Admiral. They installed my cement
pond yesterday.”

    
“And your indoor plumbing?”

    
“I’ll talk to you later,” Joshua paused
with a smile on his face. “Elitist.”

    
Elliot snorted and turned off the screen.
He got up from the couch in his quarters and crossed to the dispenser. Elliot
ordered a cup of coffee. The machine churned as it assembled his order, popping
it out a few seconds later. He sipped at the coffee and thought of where a base
to house the particle warhead should go. It would have to be in a secluded
location in case of any major incidents.

    
He sat down and accessed maps of Earth.
Outer colonies would not be an issue. The only way that this doomsday device
would be taken seriously was if it was located on their home planet. It would
act as proof that others could be constructed on every planet in the Colonized
Sphere much as nuclear weapons had acted as a deterrent to war in the twentieth
century. An involuntary shiver went through his shoulders as he realized how
logically he was thinking for the placement of a super—weapon that was potentially
devastating. For several hours he studied chart after chart. He was on his
third cup of coffee when he began to realize just how much of a chore finding a
remote area on Earth really was. Even with a reduced population of four
billion, the planet still seemed crowded. How humanity ever coped with its
record high of ten billion was a mystery to him.

    
Elliot zoomed out of the worldwide map in
frustration and looked at the representation of the Earth in its entirety. He
then looked to the one place that he had assumed would be out of the question.
The United States
had just had a hole blown in it. Elliot’s eyes widened once he realized that
the map hadn’t been updated yet.

    
Utah, Colorado, Wyoming,
were all still there on the map despite recent events. Elliot called up the
latest satellite images and saw an opportunity that he hadn’t considered
before. There was a large projection of land at the center of the crater, well
above sea level and habitable. Although the parcel of land was barren,
radiation levels were low and the surface area was in the range of fifty square
miles. It had more than enough square footage to accommodate the base. There
was even room for a landing area for shuttles. A cross—grid he imposed over the
area confirmed his theory.

    
He immediately opened a comm—link to his
superiors. Fleet Admiral Nelson would have a fit when he heard Elliot’s
proposal but knew that he had no other choice but to accept.

    
Nadine had never realized the advantage of
being a mind reader until she became a diplomat. The advantage had secured her
a place of respect within the Machiavellian order. The ambassadors had expected
a green and stuffy general. Her abilities gave her a razor edge that shocked
them into silence. They seemed afraid to make eye contact with her now to her
gratification.

    
Her government issued communications
machine hummed to life from one corner of the room. It printed off direct
orders from the military chief of staff. Nadine digested the news and accessed
her communications program to talk with her counterpart in the Alliance.

    
A gracious woman answered. “This is the
Alliance Diplomatic Office. How may I help you?”

    
“I need to speak with Ambassador Mary
Bourgeois,” Nadine said.

    
“Thank—you, please wait while I connect
you.”

    
The face of a member of the diplomatic
elite appeared on the screen a moment later. The woman had the nearly elfin,
well spoken look of a French descendant from North America.
Nadine saw a veneer of concrete, but under it, she sensed fear.

    
“General Nadine Hanover. I have heard of
your courageous conquests in your new position. What can I do for you?”

    
Nadine could feel fear exuding from every
pore of the diplomat. “Thank—you, Ambassador. I need to speak with you
regarding your military defenses.”

    
She saw that she had the upper hand as
Mary’s fears for what subject would be discussed became a reality.

    
“Cut to the chase? Thank—you, Nadine. Far
too many diplomats spew pretentious compliments before they bother to get to
the subject. Please, call me Mary.”

    
“Thank—you, Mary. Please, call me General.”

    
Mary’s face fell for a moment. “Of course General,
you are after all due some respect.”

    
“Thank—you. My concerns are not my own. You
understand the mistake of killing the messenger?” Nadine inquired.

    
“Yes. What do you need to discuss,
General?”

    
“The Coalition has concerns about your
ability to protect yourselves against alien attacks.”

    
“Alien attacks? General, in spite of the
recent crisis, there is no reason to believe we are under imminent threat of
attack from an extraterrestrial source. We have no ultimatums for surrender or
even a call to say who they are,” Mary said.

    
“Exactly. We don’t know what to expect and
we need to be prepared.”

    
“If an alien force were to invade, this
would be a poor way of doing it. That amount of power used intentionally would
mean this was only the first in a series of assaults to exterminate our race.
They would be a force that we wouldn’t be able to stop,” Mary said.

    
“Again Mary, I am only the messenger. My
superiors would want to see some evidence that we have nothing to be concerned
about.”

    
“Nothing that can be guaranteed under these
circumstances,” Mary said.

    
“Exactly.”

    
“But there is such a thing as an
overreaction.”

    
“Someone destroyed an entire celestial
body. How could we possibly overreact to that?” Nadine asked.

    
“Overreaction can be defined as preparing
for an enemy that you have no information on.”

    
“And sitting by and doing nothing is
inviting further disaster,” Nadine said.

    
“I’m not advocating that we do nothing. The
Prime Ministers are sitting in conjunction with the Senate to determine what
should be done regarding these events.”

    
“Good. In the meantime I do have my
original orders.”

    
“What do you need from the Alliance?” Mary asked.

    
“My superiors have requested the
acquisition of Outpost Fourteen,” Nadine replied.

    
“Outpost Fourteen,” Mary repeated with
incredulity. “You want control of the key to the Alliance’s outer solar defense grid? You have
got to be kidding.”

    
“I am only the messenger.”

    
“Yes, I understand. Please, tell your
superiors that they will have a response within a few hours.”

    
“Thank—you, Mary.”

    
“You’re welcome, General.”

    
Mary Bourgeois realized now why the
nickname of piranha had been quickly dispensed upon the surprising Nadine
Hanover.

    
The military grey hull of the
Endeavour
shone
in the sunrise of a new day within the United States of America. The small
island prevented the landing of a cruiser. Instead, the vessel floated in the
water a ways out from the barren beach that had begun to show some life in the
form of a seagull or two floating in its shallow waters. As Elliot had
expected, the new name for the body of water had been the most popular on the INN: The America Sea.

    
The
Endeavour’s
wings jutted out from the aft
half of the ship and were only partially submerged along with the rest of the
hull. One could almost perceive it as a massive metal bird cooling itself after
a long flight. The nearby gulls seemed to think that it was a large mother and had
gathered around it.

    
Madison, Joshua, and Elliot were standing
inland on the flattened island top examining the skeleton of a new base
surrounded by all makes and models of construction machines.

    
“The primary one housing the warhead is
where?” Madison
asked in the cool, frost—covered morning. She noticed a wisp of visible breath
from her mouth leak out into the air.