Authors: John Zakour

The Blue-Haired Bombshell (38 page)

BOOK: The Blue-Haired Bombshell

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‘‘My daughter and husband are dead, but I will live,’’ she said solemnly.

‘‘HARV, is Earth safe?’’ I asked.

‘‘Define
safe
,’’ HARV asked.

‘‘HARV!’’

‘‘Yes, the asteroid will miss the planet.’’

‘‘Phew,’’ I said, ‘‘then it’s over.’’

‘‘Well, we still have the little matter of two nuclear warheads heading straight for us,’’ HARV said.

HARV never was one to let my revel in the moment.

Chapter 42

‘‘HARV, put me in contact with Ona, ASAP,’’ I ordered.

‘‘Doing it now,’’ HARV said.

I waited. Nothing happened. The delay was very unlike HARV.

‘‘What’s going on, HARV?’’

‘‘Things are a bit slow, since she is in secret orbit around Earth with the rest of the World Council.’’

DOS, it didn’t take them long to abandon planet.

Priscilla hopped to my side. ‘‘Typical humans . . . Saving themselves when the going gets tough.’’

Ona’s holographic image broadcast itself from my communicator.

‘‘Oh, hi, Zach,’’ she said, as awkwardly as I’ve ever heard Ona say anything.

‘‘Ona, Earth is safe. Sputnik is dead. So is his daughter Lea. She was the one who killed all those council members.’’

‘‘That’s, ah, good to know, Zach.’’

‘‘You can call back your missiles now.’’

Silence. That’s never a good sign when dealing with politicians.

‘‘I said, you can call back your missiles now.’’

More silence, worse sign. Ona gave me the weakest smile of her life. ‘‘About that,’’ she said then stopped.

‘‘Yes?’’

‘‘I feel bad . . .’’

‘‘Because?’’

‘‘Real bad now,’’ Ona said.

‘‘Don’t tell me,’’ I said.

‘‘Okay,’’ Ona said, waving good-bye to the screen.

‘‘Tell me!’’ I shouted.

‘‘The missiles are non-stoppable and non-recallable,’’ she said.

‘‘Non-stoppable?’’

‘‘Well, technically they will stop, but not until they reach their target and detonate.’’

‘‘Why?’’

‘‘They are nuclear bombs, Zach. That’s what they do, hit things and blow up.’’

I sighed. ‘‘Why did you launch non-recallable missiles?’’

‘‘They are a defense against powerful psis. We wanted to make sure none of them could trick us into recalling the missiles.’’

‘‘So there’s no way out?’’

‘‘Zach, I can assure you, I and the other council members feel really, really, really awkward about this,’’ Ona said.

At that time, Electra and her fellow ARC members had joined us in the courtyard. Shara and her students were also there—the students must have freed her after we left.

Electra raced over and we embraced. I lifted her off the ground and gave her a kiss. Not just any kiss, the hardest yet the softest kiss I had ever given her. I’m a tough guy, yet I’ll admit that it made me tingle from my toes to the tip of my fedora.

‘‘Did I just hear what I thought I heard?’’ Electra asked me.

‘‘Afraid so,’’ I said, lowering her gently to the ground. ‘‘We’re dead, unless we can stop two missiles from coming at us.’’

Ona waved to Electra. ‘‘Hi, Electra, nice to see you again. Sorry it can’t be under less dire circumstances.’’

Electra gave Ona a polite nod. ‘‘So, Earth is going to destroy the Moon,’’ Electra said.

‘‘ ’Fraid so,’’ Ona and I both said.

‘‘Oh, some of this may be my fault,’’ Shara sighed.

‘‘Some of this?’’ I said.

‘‘No use pointing fingers now, Zachary,’’ Shara said.

‘‘Could we crash shuttles into the missiles?’’ Electra asked.

Ona’s image shook her head. ‘‘No go. The missiles are intelligent; they would avoid any incoming objects or shuttles.’’

‘‘Then let’s use the reflector beam on them,’’ I said.

‘‘But you said the control station has been destroyed,’’ Ona said.

‘‘HARV can still control the beam. Right, HARV?’’

‘‘Sure, only the missiles are smaller and faster than the killer asteroids the deflector beam is built to be used against,’’ HARV answered.

‘‘But you can do it,’’ I said.

HARV shook his head yes. He thought for a nano, then shook his head no.

‘‘What is it, yes or no?’’ I asked.

‘‘Both,’’ HARV answered. ‘‘I can deflect one of the missiles but not both of them in time.’’

‘‘Ah, why not?’’ I asked. ‘‘Hit one with one beam, hit the other with the backup beam.’’

HARV put up one finger, ‘‘One, it’s more complicated to hit a missile than an asteroid.’’

‘‘Yeah, but you’re good at math and stuff. You can do it.’’

‘‘True,’’ HARV said as he put up a second finger. ‘‘But two, the feedback from Lea’s explosion destroyed the backup beam.’’

‘‘You should have led with that one,’’ I said.

‘‘You’re right. This probably wasn’t the time to build suspense.’’ HARV took a step back. ‘‘Sorry about that,’’ he said. ‘‘I believe I am feeling a bit of sorrow as I have grown fond of the Moon.’’

I turned to Priscilla. ‘‘Any chance you can get a team over to the beam and fix it?’’

‘‘Sure, sweetie,’’ she said. ‘‘We can have it up and running in twelve hours.’’

‘‘We don’t have nearly that much time,’’ HARV said.

‘‘I didn’t say it was a good chance,’’ Priscilla said.

Electra turned to me. ‘‘Sweetie?’’

‘‘It’s a pet name.’’ I looked at Melda. ‘‘How many escape shuttles are ready to go?’’

‘‘One . . .’’

‘‘Ah, that’s not all that helpful.’’

‘‘Sorry,’’ she said. ‘‘Planning for failure wasn’t one of Bo’s stronger points.’’

That may have been one of the great understatements of all time.

‘‘How much time before you can prep more shuttles?’’ I asked.

‘‘Thirty minutes,’’ she said.

‘‘How long until the missiles hit?’’ I asked HARV.

‘‘Twenty minutes.’’

‘‘Oh, that won’t work,’’ I said.

HARV, patted me on the shoulder. ‘‘Very good, Zach. I wish I could think away the other missile, but I can’t.’’

That triggered something in my brain. I smiled.

‘‘He’s happy,’’ HARV said. ‘‘Yep, he’s finally snapped.’’

‘‘You can’t think them away, but we’re surrounded by the biggest collection of psi power ever.’’

I turned and Elena and Carol were by my side.

‘‘Can you guys do it?’’

Melda looked at me like I was crazy. It was a look I was very used to. ‘‘It’s a relatively small object, traveling thousands of kilometers an hour in the vastness of space.’’

‘‘Is that a yes?’’

‘‘Yes!’’ Elena answered.

Melda spun toward her. ‘‘I know you are powerful girl, but not THAT powerful.’’

Elena shook her head. ‘‘Alone, maybe not, at least not easily. But together, we can do it.’’

Melda just shook her head.

I turned toward Carol. ‘‘What do you think?’’

‘‘I don’t think we’ve got anything to lose, except maybe a bit of pride.’’

‘‘Then do it!’’

Elena was the first to lock and load. She spread open her arms, tilted her head back, and stared deep into the Moon sky. Carol was next, mimicking Elena. Melda shook her head again.

Elena looked at her and said, ‘‘Do it!’’

Melda sighed. She stepped to the left of Elena, took a deep breath and struck a pose very similar to Elena’s.

HARV watched, scratching his head. ‘‘What’s next? We’ll all hold hands and sing ‘Kumbaya’?’’

I pointed at him. ‘‘You got any better ideas?’’

HARV hung his head. ‘‘Sadly, no.’’

‘‘Then you do your job and let the psis do theirs.’’

HARV acknowledged me with a nod. ‘‘I’m on it now!’’

‘‘What’s happening there?’’ Ona’s image shouted from over the com. ‘‘I’m a spoiled billionaire politician. I hate not knowing what’s going on.’’

‘‘We’re trying something.’’ I paused for a nano. ‘‘A bit different.’’

‘‘What?’’ Ona ordered.

‘‘HARV is going to deflect one of the missiles past the planet.’’

‘‘That doesn’t sound that odd. But that only accounts for one of the missiles.’’

I pulled my collar away from my throat. ‘‘Yeah, the other part of our plan is where things get a wee bit desperate,’’ I conceded.

‘‘What is it, Zach?’’

‘‘Can’t I just tell you if it works? If not, I’d rather die with dignity.’’

‘‘Zach, it can’t be that crazy.’’

‘‘I have Carol, Elena, and Melda trying to think the missile past us.’’

Ona shook her head. ‘‘I stand corrected.’’

Threa popped her head into the picture. ‘‘Greetings, Zach!’’ she said with a wave. She looked at Ona, ‘‘I heard what Zach said. I don’t think the idea is that far-fetched.’’

I sighed. ‘‘Great, we’re dead . . .’’

Threa glared at the screen. ‘‘I heard that, Zach!’’

I turned my attention to the three psis. ‘‘How are you ladies doing?’’

‘‘Don’t ask,’’ Carol said, without looking at me.

‘‘Too late,’’ I said.

Shara, Aprill, and Windee walked up to us. ‘‘Let us help,’’ Shara said.

I shrugged. ‘‘Be my guest.’’

Shara and Aprill joined the others in their poses.

‘‘Any luck?’’ I asked.

‘‘It might be easier if you were quiet for a while,’’ Carol said.

‘‘I’ll take that as a no,’’ I said.

‘‘We need more brainpower,’’ Elena said.

‘‘Well, there are a couple thousand more psis on the planet,’’ Shara told her.

Elena cracked a slight smile. ‘‘I am linking them in now,’’ she said.

‘‘How many of them?’’ I asked.

‘‘All of them,’’ she said.

‘‘Oh.’’

‘‘They have seen what sitting back and doing nothing has gotten them. They are finally ready to help,’’ Elena said.

I wasn’t sure if Elena had coerced them all or if they had all seen the light on their own. I figured it was probably something in between. I’ve learned there aren’t many absolutes in life. The sooner we accept that life is filled with many gray-shaded areas that are neither one thing or the other but instead a combination of many things, the better we’ll all be.

There was silence for a few minutes as the psis concentrated on the skies. It was as if the entire population of the Moon was holding its breath, which, in a way, it was.

While the psis did their mental linking, I checked in on HARV. He was actually having better success. He had spotted the lead missile and was locking in on it.

‘‘When are you going to be ready, HARV?’’ I asked.

‘‘When I tell you I’m ready,’’ he said.

It seems everybody was a bit touchy.

I turned my attention back to the psis. They were all soaked with perspiration. ‘‘I hate to be a pest but I don’t think we have a lot of time,’’ I said.

‘‘Tió, we can see the incoming missile with our mind’s eyes, but we can’t get a lock on it; the picture is blurry,’’ Carol said.

‘‘We need more psis to lend us their energy,’’ Elena said.

‘‘But we are already linking all the psis on the Moon,’’ Shara chipped in.

I looked at Ona’s image. ‘‘We need the Earth psi population to join in.’’

Sure the percentage of the psis on the Moon was far greater than the percentage of psis on Earth. Earth, though, was much bigger and therefore housed many more psis. I figured there had to be at least twenty thousand more psis on Earth. If we could get a fraction of them to help it would double or triple our numbers.

Ona pushed herself back from the table a bit. ‘‘Ah, that may be a bit tricky.’’

‘‘Why?’’ I asked.

‘‘They haven’t told the general populace,’’ HARV said.

‘‘Humans,’’ Priscilla said with contempt.

I should have thought of that. I rolled my eyes. ‘‘I’m just surprised I didn’t figure that out myself,’’ I told Ona.

Ona sank back a bit and lifted her arms and shrugged. ‘‘Since we couldn’t save most of them, we didn’t want to worry them. We figured their last moments should be peaceful and blissful.’’

‘‘And we didn’t want them rushing our shuttle,’’ Twoa added.

Ona focused on the screen. ‘‘Really, Zach, I doubt it would work.’’

Threa stuck her head back into the picture. ‘‘I bet it would.’’

‘‘We really don’t have anything to lose,’’ I said.

‘‘Speak for yourself,’’ Ona said.

I needed to come up with a way Earth could get their psi population to link in and help without alerting them how close they came to death.

‘‘Tell the people it was a mistake,’’ I said.

‘‘The government doesn’t like to admit to making mistakes,’’ Twoa said.

‘‘Blame it on a computer error,’’ I said.

The three of them smiled. ‘‘Now
that
we can do!’’ Ona said.

‘‘Great. It’s always the computer’s fault,’’ HARV spat.

‘‘We need to get the SOS out fast,’’ I said.

‘‘Faster than fast,’’ HARV said, getting his processors back on track, ‘‘both missiles are now within four minutes of impact.’’

‘‘We are broadcasting over the PIHI-Pod network now!’’ Ona said.

I turned to my psis. ‘‘Any difference?’’

At first there was more silence, then, ‘‘We have a clearer view now,’’ they all said. In fact, every psi on the planet said it. ‘‘We still can’t stop it. Too much momentum.’’

‘‘Keep working on it,’’ I said.

The minutes passed like seconds. The psis and HARV were each trying to lock on to their targets. It wasn’t easy, but it was all or nothing.

Finally HARV shouted, ‘‘I got it! I got it! I win!’’

I shook my head. ‘‘It’s not a contest HARV.’’

He smiled. ‘‘Of course not; though I’m still glad I won.’’

‘‘Just fire the beam HARV.’’

‘‘Already done,’’ HARV said.

There was silence.

‘‘And?’’

More silence.

BOOK: The Blue-Haired Bombshell

11.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub