Beyond Armageddon: Book 02 - Empire (38 page)

“Please, may I have a word with you?” Gunther looked over his shoulder as if afraid someone might hear.

However, Doss and Parsons stood in the far corner discussing something with Phelps. Case, the other member of the council, had left the building.

Evan told Dante, “Why don’t I meet you back at the transport?”

Dante put a hand on Evan’s shoulder, “Remember what we just talked about, Evan. Remember.”

“I will.”

Dante left.

Gunther led Evan out a side exit. They found a quiet courtyard surrounded by flowers under a blue sky.

“Mr. Godfrey, do you know what I’ve been doing the last few years?”

“What is that?”

“I have been building this town. Brick by brick, layers of mortar upon layers of mortar. Concrete and stone…that’s what I have been doing.”

“You’re a mason,” Evan surmised. “Your work here is outstanding.”

Gunther appeared both angry and frightened.

“I do not want to see it smashed down! We have built more than buildings, this I know. But are our convictions so weak that they will not withstand the passing of your army? I find this something hard to believe.”

This confused Evan. He said, “I’m not following you, Mr. Faust. Your council spoke. It was a unanimous vote against allowing us to pass.”

“You are a political student, yes?”

Evan nodded. Certainly, Gunther understood that after the conversation of the night before.

“What we did…what would you call it? We presented a ‘united front,’ so to speak.”

“Ahhh, I get it. You agreed to vote with the others for the sake of appearance. But why? If you’re so afraid of what The Empire will do, why didn’t you vote to allow us through?”
           
Faust explained, “It was for Robert’s sake. He is a man of great convictions. This place…it means so much to him. And he is so certain…”

“So certain of what?” Evan leaned close.

“He met with this Trevor. Robert—forgive him—actually likes that young man. He thinks this Trevor is a person of honor. He thinks that if we show a united front that Trevor will not attack this city. Robert thinks that as long as we stick to our principles, Trevor will back down and go a different way. That is why he convinced us to vote with him.”

“I see,” Trevor gnawed on that information.

“But Mr. Godfrey, you are a member of the council of Trevor’s, no?”

“I am.”

“You have been with this Trevor since the very beginning, that is so?”

Evan nodded, “Yes, yes it is.”

“Then you know Trevor Stone. He is a friend of yours. A close friend, is this not true?”

Evan considered for a moment then answered with a smile, “Trevor and I are
very
good friends. We have been
very
close over the years. What is it you want to know?”

Gunther, nearly pleading, said, “Tell me now. Will he attack this city? If he will do so, please tell me. I will change my vote. I know Brad Case will change his vote, too. I think then we would be able to force Robert to let you pass.”

“I see,” Evan considered.

“It would be a small concession of our values, but it is much better than fighting with your people. I do not wish that.”

“But you are willing to risk everything by voting with Robert. For what? To save his pride? You are willing to stick to your principles as long as there is no risk?”

Gunther stumbled backwards and held his hands upward.

“No, no, Mr. Godfrey. Please. I am an old man who has worked hard. Robert has done well for us over the years. However, I fear he is blinded in this matter because of his daughter. Please do not be mad with me. I want to support Robert, but if it is possible your forces will attack, I will wound his pride and change my vote. If for no other reason than to save him from himself.”

“I understand,” Evan smiled and placed a reassuring hand on the older man’s shoulder. “I would do the same for Trevor in similar circumstances. Please excuse my outburst. I do understand. I do.”

“Should I change my vote, Mr. Godfrey? Please, you must tell me. Even if you think it a little possible that your Emperor would attack. Maybe I go change my vote anyway,” Gunther made as if to leave.

Evan stopped him.

“You don’t have to do that, Mr. Faust. I know Trevor well. I can tell you with absolute certainty that he will not attack New Winnabow. Not as long as you show your united front. He will respect your wishes. Oh, he will scream and he will threaten, but he would not kill fellow human beings.”

Gunther relaxed to the point that Evan thought the man might actually shed tears of relief.

“Trust me, Mr. Faust. Stick to your principles. I know exactly what Trevor will do.”

           
Jon found the scenery astounding, and big. Everything felt huge.

           
Jagged islands of ice floated in the cold waters, some hundreds of feet high with glorious peaks, others flat and wide. Some looked twisted and tormented; others seemingly carved with an artist’s eye.

           
From the conning tower, he saw frosted, charcoal mountains on the inland horizon smothered in misty-white clouds while the sub cruised through breathtaking fjords welcoming—and daring—travelers.

           
Off the port bow, a gigantic Blue Whale waved its tale to the sub as the Earthly creature pushed through the sea with a natural elegance that separated it from the clumsy machine.

           
On the shoreline, a walrus watched the boat pass with a befuddled gaze as if amused by the folly of man.

           
The air—perhaps the freshest air on Earth—tasted crisp but thin. Gentle breezes caressed the scenery, casting powdered snow aloft where it fluttered like old confetti from an ancient parade.

           
After a long journey under the ocean waves, the
Newport News
reached its destination. The majestic and unforgiving landscape of northern
Greenland
served as backdrop to the last leg of Jon Brewer’s journey. The stage on which a dance of horrors would play.

–

Qaanaaq,
Greenland
earned the title ‘the northernmost human settlement on Earth,’ prior to Armageddon. A child of the Cold War, Qaanaaq appeared in the 1950s when the
U.S.
airbase at
Thule
expanded.

To the east and north waited glaciers that once drew hordes of well-funded climatologists. Sharply rising black rock mountains coated with a hint of snow loomed on the far side of the long, desert-like ice cap.

To the west stood the fjords off northern
Baffin Bay
where blockades of icebergs often jammed due to a ridge at the bottom of the sea.

For most of
Greenland
, the midnight sun had faded. Not so in Qaanaaq. It would remain in a state of perpetual twilight for a few more weeks.

Nearly all of the homes, administrative buildings, and businesses were constructed of wood, a few included second floor lofts crammed under sharply pointed roofs.

A surprising variety of bright colors decorated those homes, perhaps as a means to bring cheer to an otherwise dull environment. However, color provided the only style to the entire “town”. The place reminded Jon Brewer of a toy train village: lifeless.

Dirt tracks, some under dusty coatings of old snow, cut between rows of homes with scattered lampposts and flagpoles along the way. The
Polar Grill
resembled a cross between a tool shed and a mobile home and offered “hot dogs” and “Roast chicken.”

Some of the buildings rested on flat plateaus poking from the side of a rocky hill. Most of the town—at least the private homes—were built on flatter ground. A cluster of cisterns—for fuel or drinking water—stood taller than everything else.

On Saturday, August 29, Jon Brewer’s task force arrived at Qaanaag, but no one came to greet them.

His men spent nearly five hours ferrying equipment from the
Newport News
ashore then set about the task of preparing for their trek across the northern wastelands.

Assembling the SUSV command vehicle came first. Jon supervised as his men built the vehicle as if putting together a child’s model kit. First came the two white-painted tracked modules—one resembling something like a tractor-trailer cab, the other a camper—that were coupled together with hoses and grapples not unlike the connections between box cars on a train. The vehicle would carry important equipment, shelter wounded if necessary, and otherwise provide a place for small groups to retreat from the cold now and then.

A dozen soldiers enjoyed the luxury of snowmobiles, most of which towed cargo containers. There were also four dog sled teams with Huskies pulling the leads.

Nonetheless, the majority of the one hundred infantrymen would cross the ice cap on foot. The lack of cargo space onboard the submarine combined with the haste with which the expedition had mustered allowed no other, more comfortable options.

Jon established headquarters inside the relatively new, single-story Qaanaaq hospital. He found a treasure trove of medical supplies. Whatever happened to the citizens of Qaanaaq—evacuation or elimination—they left behind fully stocked stores.

The balance of the task force occupied homes, garages, and city hall for shelter while they checked, prepped, and re-checked gear.

With the submarine moving out to sea, every soldier under Jon’s command realized they operated entirely on their own. No air support. No reinforcements. No supply convoys. Only what they carried on their backs.

Each of the men—including the command staff of Jon Brewer, Reverend Johnny, and Captain Casey Fink—wore heavy white arctic jackets. This offered more than enough protection against ‘summer’ temperatures hovering in the mid-twenties.

General Brewer and Captain Fink turned the hospital administrator’s office into a temporary command center. Jon felt the more
temporary
the better. Speed, he knew, remained his number one concern. He suspected the Goat-Walker that attacked their refueling stop was an intentional attempt to delay them. He wondered what other obstacles—and rivals—waited for them in the arctic wasteland ahead.

For the moment, Jon’s attention diverted from the map unfurled on the office desk to Fink, who stood at the far end of the room reviewing a field manual and whistling the same tune over and over again.

Brewer glared at Fink and asked, “Casey, what are you doing?”

“Huh? Oh, it’s from an old Bugs Bunny cartoon.” Fink then did the unthinkable. He stopped whistling and sung:
“The five o’clock whistle’s on the blink. The whistle won’t blow and whaddya think?
My pappa’s still in the factory ‘Cause he don’t know what tiiiiiiime—”

           
“CASEY! If you don’t shut up I may have to—”

Reverend Johnny appeared at the door panting heavily and wearing an expression that drained any good humor from the room.

“General, I fear the devil is afoot. I have found something you need to see.”

The men gathered their rifles and followed Johnny along a corridor lined with empty patient rooms. Two nervous soldiers stood outside one of those rooms. When Brewer looked inside, he became nervous, too.

           
“I think we know what happened to the people here,” Brewer said.

           
“Death came from below,” Reverend Johnny put a fine point on it.

           
The floor of the hospital room was splintered and smashed upward, revealing a hole in the tundra beneath. The sides of the hole had long-ago collapsed, sealing that particular threat but the implications were clear. Something large—larger than a man, smaller than a car—had tunneled into the hospital room and struck from below.

           
Reverend Johnny knelt and pointed to a ring of black, hardened sludge around the rim of the sealed tunnel.

           
“Very strange. I do not believe this passage was dug in a conventional manner. An acid of some kind may be the culprit, used to bore through the Earth itself.”

           
Jon turned to Fink and ordered, “Call the men together. We’re too scattered; everyone split up to find a place to rest during the layover, that makes us vulnerable. I don’t like that at all and I want to get out of here as fast as possible.”

           
Automatic weapons fire echoed across Qaanaaq.

           
The three men left the collapsed hole behind, ran the hall, and then exited the front door and stood at the top of a short flight of wooden stairs. The gunfire had stopped by the time they made it outside, replaced by voices calling from one house to another, from one sentry to the next.
       

           
“Did you see it?”

           
“It came out of the goddamn ground!”

           
“Holy sh—ahhhhh”