The Filter Trap (22 page)

Pungent, grey cigar smoke spiraled up and out of the room, into the automated vacuum pipe in the ceiling. Whirring fan blades in the ceiling above their heads provided a gnawing reminder they were entombed.

Kam turned to Jill and put on a mocking tone. “I imagine there are quite a few smoke alarms at this top secret military base, don’t you think?”

She replied with the faux English-professor accent. “Yes, I suppose that would be the intelligent thing to do. Wouldn’t do to have the president’s secret hide-out go up in flames.”

“Christ, even at the brink of interplanetary war I’m still surrounded by hippies.” Pith extinguished the cigar by pounding it into his water cup. The sizzle reverberated in the quiet room. “You three are here to give me something I can use, especially if this is a first contact scenario, not lecture me on an old man’s
well-earned
bad habits. So the Chinese are sharing. Do you know where these things came from or not?”

Allan spoke up first. “Not yet. We can track back the flight path from before the course correction, but we’ve a bigger problem: we haven’t mapped this solar system yet. We can draw a line in space, but we don’t know what it would hit yet. We may be able to ask
them
in person before we can figure it out.”

Pith rubbed his forehead. “Okay, then let’s focus on what you can see. Looking at the updates on the tablets, is there anything else you can derive about the objects?”

Kam, who’d been last to see most of the info and reviewed it while Allan and Jill made their earlier comments, leaned to the mic. “After looking at the objects enlarged, I can see they’re more or less identical in shape
—including straight edges—
suggesting an artificial origin.”

Jill took the mic back. “More importantly, we’ve seen changes in brightness, and after quite a bit of filtering, we’ve determined that the light source that varies is not simply reflection, but light
emanating
from the objects.”

“What?” Bolton asked.

The general answered, “Spaceships with lights, Senator.”

“Woah.” Kam put an open hand up. “Internal light emission doesn’t guarantee a whole lot. Let’s remember our own Sun emits plenty of light, which varies with solar flares, and we’d hardly conclude it was a ship with little people running around inside.”

“If it was built with I-beams, I would,” Pith added. “You said it’s manufactured, right?”

“No,” Jill cautioned. “Crystals grow and cleave in straight lines, tree trunks from far enough away look like straight lines. It’s a stretch, but an asteroid after a collision may cleave in a straight line and still have heat-emitting light from the point of impact. However, the probability of a group of them having this happen identically and simultaneously is statistically minute.”

“So they
are
aliens,” Pith concluded.

Jill gritted her teeth and Kam spoke for her. “You might not believe it, General, but, despite being those who most yearn for it, SETI scientists are the last people that would jump to that conclusion. When you’re searching for conclusive proof you need conclusive evidence, and this information doesn’t show that . . . yet.

“The better question is whether they’re intelligent. Course correction suggests yes. However, it is highly unlikely this intelligence, or at least the objects’ interiors, is biological. Adaptation to space travel for animal life is extremely difficult. There are long-term changes in physiology for human astronauts that we still don’t understand, and that’s not even considering the radiation exposure problems. A more advanced species may have workarounds, but there is another solution that doesn’t require any workarounds at all. More than likely, if there is a mission for these objects, it’s being carried out like our own interplanetary probes-by robots.”

“Last I checked you weren’t a robotics expert, Professor Douglass. You’re telling me to expect an invasion of robots?”

“Or a gift from a benevolent super-species,” Jill spoke up again. “NASA’s Near Earth Objects tracking program is woefully underfunded, only catching ten percent of them in more than ten years. It’s entirely possible some grand intelligence has saved us from certain disaster, and they may be sending emissaries to reveal themselves.”

“Or to finish the job,” Pith said.

“Or demand payment for it,” Bolton added.

“You’re still thinking too small. Too . . .
human
,” Jill protested. “The
Event
that brought us here is something unique to human history, which is a blip in the fourteen-billion-year life of the universe. We may be looking at something as common as a summer storm from the perspective of a mayfly.”

“A mayfly sees your hand a’comin’ to swat him,” Pith reminded them. “He doesn’t sit there and pretend it ain’t a threat because he hasn’t seen a human before.”

Allan took his opportunity and leaned into his microphone. “Jill has been cautious with her warnings. It’s conceivable we’re not on another
side
of the universe, but another universe entirely, where the laws of nature as we know them do not apply.”

“This isn’t a TED Talk, doctor.” Pith crossed his arms. “I didn’t bring you here to spout hippy nonsense about the tenth dimension.”

Allan’s face formed a squiggle. “You’ve heard of the Higgs Particle, right?”

“Yes, even an old soldier reads the news, son.”

“When the scientists at CERN finally saw the Higgs Particle it was not where they thought it would be. Rather, it was in between their guesses, at a medium level of gigaelectronvolts, instead of at the extremes.”

“Gigawhat?” Bolton asked.

“Think of it as a measure of intensity or effect. A high charge would have signified a certain amount of chaos in the universe, that all of physics might be more flexible than we ever imagined. If the Higgs operates differently here, many of the laws of physics may vary.

“Coming from a place where matter behaves differently could allow it to be manipulated much easier. Transporting an entire planet might be no more complicated than the Orion program was for us.”

“All the more reason to nuke ‘em,” Pith stated.

Kam took the microphone.

“They’ve demonstrated the power to move the Earth in space, they only need to move our heads but a few inches from our bodies to kill us. Our best
—and only—option is to let them come. Science is the act of learning through observation. There is no other acceptable course for our present situation.
”

Kam paused. Bolton mistook it for an opening and asked a question.

“Wouldn’t we see clocks running backwards, rain falling up, cats and dogs living together, what have you, if the Higgs were different here? Besides, you already said those objects in space have to obey gravity because we still do, so doesn’t that mean the Higgs has the same ‘gigawhatsit’ in this universe too?”

Allan shook his head and bit his lip. “Maybe. Although technically gravity is more a function of the graviton particle, not the Higgs per se. It’s possible the difference in elementary particles is so slight that only one atom behaves differently here, or none.”

“Step back out of the weeds,” Pith demanded. “Assuming particle physics still behaves as expected, where are these things headed?”

“Headed, sir?” Kam asked.

“I gave telemetry to Dr. Sands before our meeting. I need to know if your aliens are gonna make a repeat visit to Roswell.”

Allan bit his lip, “We don’t know if it’ll land, or just orbit, or maybe make another turn and head somewhere else. For all we know this is an old exploratory satellite just making its rounds. It could head in the other direction tomorrow.”

“Whether it’s meant for us or not, and whether it’s malicious or not, the Air Force says it’s gonna hit us if it doesn’t change course. We just want you to confirm their results,” said Bolton.

“Mojave,” said Allan. “Landfall is predicted in roughly seventy hours in the Mojave Desert as well as multiple locations across the globe.”

“And I’m sure you’ve done the calculations about the potential damage of the impacts?” Pith asked.

Allan looked at his comrades before continuing; he hadn’t shared this knowledge with them.

“Extinction, sir.”

“Mission plot said we’d see something by now,” Lee said. “I don’t see shit, just blue.”

A voice broke over all their com units. “Vector change. Our targets are on the move. Get your asses a hundred miles south of there. They’ll be coming through the atmosphere any minute.”

Finally some action! And maybe some answers. Lee grinned through her flight suit. “Yes, sir! Top speed we can be there in five minutes.”

“Push it as hard as you can, Lieutenant. We’re mobilizing, but we’ve got no back-up for you that far south. All our trajectory plotting didn’t count on these things changing course again. Your little raptor squad are the fastest birds in the sky, so you’ve got to be our lookout now, or our last hope.”

“You bubbas heard the man. Punch it!”

Engines screamed through wisps of clouds far above lonely Joshua trees. Rattlesnakes in the sand scurried for cover, frightened by successive sonic booms. Three angular darts climbed higher at double the speed of sound, relying on afterburners until reaching the cusp of Mach 2.

“I love that sound!” said Nana.

“What sound, numb-nuts?” asked Lee. “If you’re supersonic you’re traveling ahead of your own engine noise-it’s quieter.”

“The sound of the wind in my hair again, darlin’,” he answered.

“Call me ‘darlin’’ one more time, Nana, and I’m using you for target practice.”

“As much as I’d like to blast his ass,” LARS chimed in, “I think we need everything we got for our rendezvous.”

“You heard her,” Nana announced, “LARS wants to blast my ass. I knew you always had a thing for me.”

“I’ve got a thing for both of you. Look over here,” Lee said, as she put her middle fingers to the glass in the canopy.

There was a noticeable silence on the coms as the other two flipped their binoculars down and looked across at the Raptor between them, separated by at least 500 yards.

“Oh, you want in on this too, boss?” Nana asked rhetorically. “Don’t worry, if we live through today I’ll give you both a big kiss when we get back on the ground.”

“If that’s what I have to look forward to, I think I’ll be going kamikaze on these aliens’ asses,” Lee said.

“Speaking of their asses, I think we’re starting to see the hole,” LARS said.

They cringed, not at the bad joke, but at the small dark burble above and in front of them. It looked completely alien to the natural sky, but still somehow familiar.

“
Atmospheric warping of a massive object still in space
,” Lee recited Dr. Sands’ description from the mission briefing.

“Looks like heat haze in the desert, but up in the sky,” LARS added.

“It looks like . . . shit, you guys saw the Avengers, right?” Lee asked rhetorically.

“Where’s Iron Man when you need him?” Nana said.

“Let’s hope they come in peace,” LARS said.

“If they ain’t, we’re gonna send em back
in
pieces,” Nana replied.

The burble grew into a spheroid black protrusion which reversed color and became a blinding white flash as it collided with the upper atmosphere. As the object slid through the stratosphere it blocked the Sun for many miles on the ground, casting the fighter jets in shadow.

“It’s cracking up!” LARS pointed out. “Hundreds of little fireballs, maybe they didn’t have enough heat shielding, DOA!”

“Not so fast,” Lee corrected. “Fires are going out, but no smoke, no ash.”

“Polka dots,” LARS said. “No reflection.”

“Splitting again!” Lee observed.

“It’s raining polka dots,” Nana said. “Too many and too big!”

“Size of city blocks!” LARS shouted in amazement.

“If these guys need to be shot down there ain’t enough of us,” Nana said.

“There ain’t enough fighters left in the Pacific fleet,” LARS added.

“Calm down,” Lee cautioned, “if they thought these guys were gunnin’ for us they’d probably have sent in a B2 behind.”

“How do you know they ain’t got an ICBM on a sub with somebody on the button right now?” Nana asked. “Maybe we’re a decoy, why else would they send three Raptors out here alone?”

“Just get ready to do your jobs!” Lee screamed. “Remember, we watch for course correction, altitude change and deceleration. We’re only to engage if fired upon or if the landing party appears malicious.”

As the objects came through the upper atmosphere and their flames blew out they exploded again. Like a flock of birds suddenly taking off, the objects splintered evenly into thousands more, expanding to cover the area the Raptors were flying through.

“Boss?” Nana asked.

“Get beneath them!” Lee commanded. “Dive to a thousand feet and circle. If they don’t slow down we shoot. That many impacts at that speed’ll make a nuclear winter for the whole west coast. We might be the last line of defense, blast them to bits before they hit the ground. Got it?”

“Roger,” came both replies.

The fighter jets spiraled towards the red desert, leveling at 5,000 feet before circling in a smooth arc to coast above the sand.

The black objects split again and again until they scattered so far it was hard to tell if they were still splitting or not. The pilots looked up to see faint sparks of blue sky, stars peeking through an expanding night.

“They’re not slowing down,” Lee warned.

“20,000 feet . . . ,” LARS observed.

“15,000. . . 10,000 . . . 5,000 . . .”

“Blow your loads and abort!” Lee screamed.

The jets let fly a furious salvo of armament straight ahead and then curved in a wide arc to escape the falling black carpet.

“They’re expanding too fast, we’re not gonna make it!” Nana shouted.

“Afterburners!” Lee shouted back.

It was the most daring formation the team ever attempted, flying less than 2,000 feet above the low, sloping rock formations of the Mojave Desert. They ran up to supersonic speed, then Mach 1 and beyond while darkness descended. The edge receded miles away, a sizzling white line splitting black sky from shadow.

“I’m out of fuel!” came a frantic cry from LARS, “I can’t sustain afterburner more than another few seconds.”

“Break off!” Lee ordered, but it was too late.

LARS tried to transition out of the formation but pulled too quickly and lost it. The plane, still moving at supersonic speed, spiraled up and around across the other two before flipping up once more in their wake and crashing to the ground.

“Did she deploy?” Lee asked.

“I don’t think so . . . she’d have to have pulled out the chute by now . . . I don’t see anything.”

Lee glanced up and immediately regretted it.

“It’s just black up there. A night without stars. Even if she deployed she’d never outrun that on foot either.”

“What the fuck are they?”

“I don’t want to find out.”

Behind them, the missiles they’d launched less than a minute ago greeted the first visitors from beyond. The explosives reflected downward off the strange alien objects and became a boiling furnace of fire that quickly crept up behind the two jets along the underside of the falling sky.

“If LARS did bail she’d be caught in that now,” Nana said.

“Might be the lucky one.”

The descending black sheet came so low they could see the edge just above their canopies.

“We’re under a big fuckin’ shoe!” Nana shouted.

“Get lower!”

The two jets skimmed the ground, something they’d never do in a $100,000,000 aircraft any other day. The raptors carefully maneuvered away from their parallel flight path. Neither of them knew, but this placed Lee closer to the edge of the approaching and expanding alien objects.

She let out a triumphant scream as she broke through the last bit of descending darkness, pulling her stick back and hurtling up and away from the sand. Out of the corner of her eye she caught an orange bubble of flame emerge from the expanding black blanket a quarter mile to her right.

“Nana!” she shouted into the com. “Banana, acknowledge! Jackson? . . . Fuck!”

The flames funneled out from under the black cover and briefly reached up into the sky in her direction. They were stifled and buried under a writhing matte lake.

Lee circled and dove at the growing darkness below. Clenching her teeth she unleashed guttural fury and emptied a hundred rounds. Over in little more than a second, the rounds didn’t penetrate, didn’t bounce, and didn’t shatter the thinning pitch below. The bullets, and any trace of them, were just . . . absorbed.

It was impossible to tell how close the city-sized alien tarp was to the ground, but given what she’d been warned about the destructive potential she didn’t want to stay around and find out. She pushed up, over and away from it, but her fuel started to run out as well. Afterburners might get her a little farther, but the shockwave would roil up from the impact any moment now, and travel up to thirty times faster than her afterburners.

Even with a few minutes’ head start, Lee knew the blast radius would be hundreds of miles. Rather than try to outrun the impossible and die as her plane was tossed like a toy in the ensuing heat wave, she turned back. If she was going to die, she wanted to see her killers’ faces. Or whatever they had.

Lee pushed her plane even lower, only a few hundred yards from the surface, but she could see nothing out ahead of her to indicate anything hit the ground. However, she couldn’t really
see
much of anything but black to begin with. It was incredibly disorienting to be surrounded by it, an ocean without waves. From any angle, at any height, the spreading mass looked the same. A nothing slowly expanding across the empty desert toward every horizon.

Lee curled back into the sky. At 5,000 feet she saw the enormity of the alien oil spill as its expansion slowed. ‘Maybe they’ve split all the way down to the atomic level,’ she thought. Surely it would have impacted by now.

At the apex of her altitude change, 8,000 feet up, she realized what really stopped it from growing. The black patch sat in a flat basin that extended for miles in each direction before meeting up with the Sierra Nevada in the west. The placement of the mountains stopped the alien net cast over the desert.

From the edges, a fine thick mist shot out at great speed. A sideways sand tsunami blew through the sparse trees and cacti, eventually dissipating about twenty miles away when the dust hit the sides of the surrounding sand dunes. The huge, flat, black thing had absorbed the impact, just like it had repelled or absorbed her own weapons.

Lee was struck with conflicting feelings, happy to be alive, but suddenly guilt-ridden. There had been no real danger, no threat to swoop in and destroy. She’d sent her bubbas, her best friends, to their deaths. Only by chance did she survive the dive-attack she ordered.

These were the first people in her life to truly accept her. Now they were all dead. When she left home she swore never to return, at least until her father could accept her choices. After hearing nearly two decades of sermons about the curse of homosexual sin, she spent her adult life trying to forget it. Now the only people she’d told were dead. How much more cursed could it get?

She heard the echo of her first drill sergeant in boot camp. She didn’t deserve to be here. It was hard not to think fatalistically, terror-induced adrenaline still pumping, amplifying every thought. Boot camp terror times a thousand, and without the ability to just quit and walk away. Why was she thinking about what her father and her drill instructor would think? They hadn’t been there, stayed with her through the toughest times, to see her accomplishments. What would Franks, a better father figure than the real one, think of her now?

He would tell her to stop thinking about her personal problems and start preserving that hundred million dollar machine she was driving on loan from the US Government. Lee shook the shame and guilt away and checked her gauges. The resilient advanced fighter jet stood up to the extremes she’d put it through, but as advanced as it was, it still had a fuel tank, and that tank was nearly empty. She needed to put it down somewhere.

“Holy shit!” Lee called her wing commander. “NORAD, this is Raptor 1, Lieutenant Green, do you read?”

“Go ahead Lieutenant.”

“Sir, I think I know what it is.”

“Go on Lieutenant, Chiefs of Staff are listening. Be thorough.”

“It’s a landing pad, sir. The objects that came down spread over several miles of the flat desert. I have a hunch if I tried to land down there it would be the smoothest runway I’ve ever known.

“Also, Lieutenants Jackson and Clemens are K.I.A.”

“We have support en route, Lieutenant, just sit tight. We’re fueling and swarming our Pacific dogs on your location.”

“What exactly do you expect to land on this? Dr. Sands or Dr. Tarmor have any idea what killed all my bubbas?”

“As you know, in war, Lieutenant, the soldiers don’t always know what or why they’re fighting. I’m afraid I can’t tell you why I know, but I can tell you that by the time reinforcements arrive you’ll probably be proven right.”