five
billion megatons. The science staff has estimated an eighty percent chance the
moon will be destroyed by the blast. We cannot confirm that the moon will
completely dissipate the beam.”
“Will it miss Earth if the
Moon doesn’t stop it?”
“No.”
“Where would it make
landfall?” Elliot asked.
“It would hit the western
portion of South
Dakota.”
“Captain Hubbard, I need a
place to confer with the Admiralty.”
“Yes, Admiral. You can use my
office.”
Elliot exited the bridge and
took his first left into Joshua’s private office. He crossed to an L—shaped
desk in the teal room and sat down at the small monitor that would link him to
command.
The screen came alive with his
presence.
“Connect to Fleet Admiral
Nelson’s office.”
“Level Ten clearance
required,” an artificial voice said.
“Clearance Fredericks, Elliot, Vice Admiral,” he
responded. Hidden instruments in the ceiling scanned him and confirmed his
genetic identity. The screen beeped for several seconds before the transmission
was allowed. An image of an older man lit up the screen. Short brown hair
streaked with grey framed a face seamed by responsibilities.
“Admiral.”
“The readings are confirmed.
There is a high chance that the weapon will hit the moon. There is also a
chance that the beam will subsequently hit Earth,” Elliot said.
“I’ll start the evacuation of
every civilian from the Moon and from the potentially affected areas as soon as
possible. Eli, we’ve got another problem.”
“Project Horizon,” Elliot said.
“Yes. The weapons systems are
still on the Moon. I don’t think we can lift them off of there in time.”
Elliot sighed. “What are your
orders, Sir?”
“We are doing the best we can.
Projections are that nine hundred of the weapons emplacements will still be on
Luna at zero hour. We will do what we can. Eli, I’ve been given a request from
your priest to call him.”
Elliot couldn’t hide his
surprise. The Cooperative rarely called through an official channel, allowing him
to maintain his cover.
“I know how you feel about
them, but I told them I would give you the message.”
“Well, given the
circumstances, I’ll contact them as soon as I can.”
“Eli, the Horizon Project may
no longer be viable. I’m ordering you to use our contingency plan.”
“The Phoenix Project?”
“If that beam vaporizes ninety
percent of our weapons systems then the vast majority of our new fleet will
have nothing to defend themselves with. What other choice do we have?” the
Fleet Admiral said.
“So we abandon the Horizon
Project?”
“Eli, we’ve been over this. Phoenix was always a
modification of Horizon, not its abandonment. I need someone to begin quiet
preparations for Phoenix.
With your past work on Horizon, you are the best person for the job,” Nelson
said.
“Sir, only an O—9 officer can
administer a project of this level.”
“I know that, Eli.
Congratulations. I just wish your promotion was under better circumstances.”
“Yes Sir.”
“Keep me updated,” the
Admiral’s hand was halfway to the button to deactivate the live feed before he
added: “Oh, and choose a staff. You’ll want people you can trust on this.”
Full Admiral Elliot Fredericks
watched the screen go blank. He then opened a new signal to an area of Stockholm, Sweden
and waited as the tone beeped its progress towards contacting the party. Elliot
took the time to remove the contacts from his eyes and placed them in a small
case he carried in his back pocket. His
eyes were now liquid black instead of brown. The screen came to life again a
minute later.
“Elliot. I need to talk to
you.” Michael