Chapter 31: God’s Laughter

I.
I slowly turned around. Casse and Eppe were both standing behind me. I tried to stare both of them down.

“What does it look like? I’m trying to get information from our Senator friend here.” I said. I was still in psychotic rage mode. Miller stood behind me.

“Kid, are you sure these aliens aren’t going to kill us?” Miller whispered.

“Relax, I’ll handle this.” I whispered back.

“You’re getting information from him with a razor blade.” Eppe said. “What, is the information in his arm?” He was being sarcastic.

“Eppe, you know as well as I do. I think Michael is trying to torture the Senator.” Casse said.

“Michael, why? Doesn’t this strike you as a bit barbaric?” Eppe said. Hernando yelled something.

“This guy is muy loco. He wanted to torture me to get information about a top-secret project the Air Force has been working on.” Hernando said. I glared at him.

“And what the fuck did you expect? You asked Area 51 for samples of the Ultraflu, got them, and broke the goddamn thing. Now we’ve got over a hundred sick and how many dead now?” Estrus came walking up with one of the two revolvers I used to kill the Caliph and his Assassins.

“Guys, I hate to interrupt what looks like a tense moment, but Harrison Kell is very sick. He’s got that flu.” I sighed.

“I don’t know anything about the flu. It would be treason to talk, Michael surely you understa-“ I walked to Hernando and punched him in the mouth.

“Put a dick in it.” I said. Casse walked to me.

“Michael, this isn’t how we Karzarthi do things. If we need to get a secret out of the Senator, we use some other means. We can’t torture him.” Casse said.

“Okay, try asking him how to get into Area 51. C’mon, let’s see if he answers you.” I challenged Casse. Casse walked to the chair-bound Senator.

II.
“Hernando, is there any way to cure the flu that’s infecting people here?” I folded my arms on my chest. The look I gave could melt steel.

“I can’t say. I’m sorry, but if I say anything that gets used, it’ll be considered treason. I could be executed. I’m sorry, but secrets have to stay secret.” Hernando was sobbing now. He was scared.

“Hernando, look around you.” I said. “The aliens have won this war. If you help us, you’ll be considered a hero by the aliens. The American government won’t be able to do shit to you.” A saying came to me. Why doth treason never succeed? For if it succeed, none dare call it treason. The British colonists who revolted and would eventually create the United States had committed treason. When Gandhi rebelled against the British in India, he was committing treason. It took bravery for both acts. So why was Hernando holding back against us? I had committed treason by helping the aliens, hell I’d even killed American soldiers. And I wasn’t afraid. I’d fought and been tortured to advance the aliens’ cause, and now Hernando was afraid to follow in my footsteps.

“The Americans can win.” Hernando said. “They have to. They’ve got railguns and invisibility and the Crichton Project.” Crichton Project? I remembered Corporal Lisbon telling me about that near the entrance to Area 51. It was the project the military was developing for weather control. Now I knew that Hernando Pinioliz knew about it.

“Tell us about the Crichton Project at least.” I said. “I recall a soldier telling me about it at Area 51.” Hernando looked aghast.

“Wh-wh-who told you about the Crichton Project?” Hernando asked. He’d apparently forgotten that he himself had just mentioned it.

“What the hell is the Crichton Project?” Miller asked.

“The Crichton Project is a joint military operation. It was developed by the Department of Defense along with several corporations and NASA. The idea was to launch a bunch of satellites that used ultrasonic waves to shake loose moisture molecules from soil. The moisture would then be used to create various weather conditions once it was in the air. Other satellites used superheated laser beams to heat air masses and cause major storms. We even got to the point where we could hold the jet stream back. We could heat the oceans to produce hurricanes, we could collide cold and warm air masses to produce tornadoes, all kinds of things.”

“Superheated laser beams?” I asked. Hernando thought I didn’t believe him.

“We got that information from a bunch of tiny robots. After the Columbine massacre, the military did a clean sweep of the high school. After the military found the nanorobots, that ushered in a new age of military technology. The nanorobots contained instructions for making superheated laser beams, invisibility, ultrasound moisture extraction, everything. Our first Crichton Project satellite was launched in 2002. We tested it and were able to create a rainstorm in Death Valley in California. After that, we knew we could do anything.”

“Columbine? The fuck happened there with nanotechnology?” Miller asked. “What’s a school shooting got to do with weather control?”

“I’ll clarify that later. I know exactly what the Senator’s talking about.” I said.

“Yeah, we were able to create hurricanes. We did it in 2005, though we did have a problem when we realized we couldn’t destroy the hurricanes when we were done with them. We just had to let them dissipate by themselves. Hurricanes Rita and Wilma reached unbelievable strengths with the technology, but sadly they also killed numerous people.”

“What about Katrina?” Miller asked. “My father’s from New Orleans.”

“We created Katrina, intending it just to be a tropical storm. We didn’t intend for it to cross Florida and destroy New Orleans. But despite that, we knew we could do the impossible. We were scared to use it much after that, but we got word of a possible al-Qaeda presence in Bangladesh.” I noted this. Bangladesh. I went there in 2007 after Cyclone Sidr hit. I told Flossie Charred about that. Hernando seemed to read my mind.

“We sparked a series of storms in the Indian Ocean a couple years later. It struck Bangladesh as a Category 4 tropical cyclone. It killed the terrorist operatives, but also about three thousand others. It was the first time weather control was used as a weapon of war.”

“Cyclone Sidr?” I asked.

“Yes, that one.”

III.
I was stunned. I had heard conspiracy theories before, but this was even more of a shock than Nodijeim telling me the truth about the Columbine shootings. The military had indeed retrieved alien nanotechnology from the school, but now I saw the true implications of it. We could now control the weather. The military had tested this on civilians and even attacked Bangladesh with it. The cyclone that inspired me to go and help thousands of poor Bangladeshi farmers and peasants was man-made. I had always assumed that nature was behind every hurricane and tornado, but now I knew the truth. The alien technology had given America’s military almost godlike powers over the rest of the world. I began to wonder if it was possible to stop or even reverse global warming. As for the winter of 2010-2011, probably everything from the Houston Hurricane to the Christmas Eve tornado outbreak to the June-like temperatures on New Years’ could be blamed on this Crichton Project.

For Miller it was too much. He kicked the Senator’s chair over. The Senator broke the ropes and tried to crawl away. I knew what this meant. I’d seen it so many times in the halls of Weasel Point High School. There was going to be a fight.

Miller pounced on Hernando. Miller then threw the Senator on his back and started punching him in the head. He took the razor blade and slashed Hernando’s face. Casse and Eppe tried to interfere, but I held them back.

“No, let them sort it out.” I said. Both obeyed.

Hernando seemed to get himself together and kicked Miller between the legs. He delivered a second kick to the stomach. Miller got off but grabbed the collar of Hernando’s shirt. Estrus then tried to stop them. He reached his arm into the scuffle, but the razor blade slashed the top of his hand. He drew it back, blood dripping from the wound. Miller stood up but was kicked down by Hernando. Hernando got on top of Miller and started trying to strangle him. Miller head-butted the Senator, drawing blood from the politician’s forehead. Now the two men’s arms grappled for each other’s necks. Miller drew another punch, knocking a filling loose from Hernando’s mouth. Hernando brushed away Miller’s arm, tossing the razor blade about five feet away. Miller threw Hernando off of him, grabbed the razor blade, and walked toward Hernando as if to kill him.

I knew that Hernando couldn’t be killed. If he was, then I had no way of getting any information about Area 51. I needed him alive to interrogate. Miller slipped the razor between two of his knuckles. He was just about to slash Hernando’s crotch open when I heard a gunshot.

IV.
Blood shot out of Miller’s arm. He looked toward the gunman. I looked at Estrus and saw him with the revolver. He fired one more shot that hit him in the upper chest. Estrus raised the gun, and the final round shaved three inches off the top of Miller’s head. His body fell into a fetal position.

“I couldn’t let him kill the Senator.” Estrus said. “If he did, then we’d have no way of getting into Area 51.” The young Mormon was still shocked over having to kill someone.

“Senator, now will you tell us-“ I got a message in my head. It was from Ahlisk Nodijeim.

V.
“Michael, we’ve got some disturbing news.” Nodijeim said. Oh joy, what now, I wondered.

“What is it?” I asked. I was talking to myself. Hernando and the two guards were puzzled, but I knew what was going on, as did Estrus and the two aliens.

“Something’s been launched from Minot Air Force Base in North Dakota. It’s heading for Las Vegas. We got a picture of it from a hijacked spy satellite.” An image formed in my head. It was a large missile. On it was a star, indicating it was an American weapon. There were letters by the star.

The letters read “ICBM”.

“Wait, ICBM?” I asked Nodijeim.

“Kujip tells me it stands for Inter-Continental Ballistic Missile. We looked at the entry in our military database about it. It’s a Minuteman missile armed with a W87 thermonuclear warhead. That warhead has a 475 kiloton yield.”

“How long until it detonates?” I asked.

“It’s going about two thousand miles an hour. Minuteman missiles are normally much faster, but this one has suffered some engine damage, so it’s going much slower than it would.” Good thing, I thought. That slowness might save our lives. “Anyway, it’s currently 900 miles away. I can send the coordinates to the nearest Bleenaust. The ICBM will reach Las Vegas in 27 minutes.” Oh. Fucking. Shit. I was in disbelief. I had just got done watching the fight, and now I was being told that the military had launched a goddamn nuclear ICBM at us.

“Casse, Eppe, you two, did you get Nodijeim’s message?” I asked.

“We did. Our Bleenaust isn’t far away. We’ll try to look for the missile.” Casse and Eppe ran off. Two minutes later I saw the Bleenaust take off.

“Wh-what’s going on, Michael?” Hernando asked. He was still in a panic over the fight.

“The military launched a nuke at us.” I said. “It’s from North Dakota.”

“It came from…oh my God. Minot Air Force Base. It’s in North Dakota and it has several missile silos. That’s probably where the missile was launched from.”

“Yeah. I’m not sure why the hell they would launch a missile at us. Haven’t the aliens taken NORAD yet?” The Senator flinched at this. He seemed concerned about my mention of NORAD. I didn’t recall if the aliens had taken them; I knew Colorado was putting up heavy resistance to the aliens.

“Michael, we’re in the air. We’re looking for the missile now.” Casse said.

“Good. How much time?”

“Nodijeim is in contact with us. We’ve got 23 minutes left. We’re over Utah right now.” Casse said. “If we see the missile, we can use our electronic scrambler to disable it.”

“Can’t you use the jievsiz?” I asked.

“Too much risk of detonating the missile. It’s a better idea to get it to self-destruct.” Casse said. “I wish Xomine were here. He was better with the scrambler than I am.”

The fear of what was happening began to sink in. Along with the fear was the outrage and the mystery. Why was the military going to nuke Las Vegas? Why us? All we were doing was posing a threat to Area 51. Didn’t Minot know that there were a bunch of civilians here? Was the nuke an attempt to destroy the flu outbreak? Did the military even know about the flu outbreak?

Hernando looked scared, as usual. But then I saw his skin flush. He had almost gone white at the threat of torture, but now he seemed almost angry. Estrus spoke to me.

“Do you think they’ll find that nuke?” He asked.

“They better find it.” Was all I responded with.

Ten or fifteen minutes went by with no contact from the Bleenaust. Finally, I heard from them again.

VI.
“Michael, we’ve found the missile.”

“Good. Where are you two?” I asked.

“We’ve over Fishlake National Forest in central Utah. We’re attaching ourselves to the missile.” Casse said. I heard metallic noises. I assumed Casse was getting things set up. Finally after thirty seconds or so, Casse spoke again.

“The missile has a lot of encryption to get through. These Minuteman missiles are almost impossible to scramble because of the fear of malfunctions. Of course, getting the self destruction code in is going to take a while.” Casse said.

“How long?” I asked.

“Seven minutes, thirty-four seconds.”

“How much time until the missile detonates?”

“Eight minutes exactly.”

Great. We’d be cutting it pretty damn close. Casse started the scrambler and I heard clicking noises. Casse then disconnected with my brain uplink.

“Michael, can they destroy the missile?” Estrus asked.

“I think so. It’ll be a close shave, but I think it’ll work.”

The seven and a half minutes went by, each second feeling like an hour. I knew Casse and Eppe were doing what they could, but it was still a tense situation. I still couldn’t imagine why the military was launching ICBMs against Las Vegas. I wondered if they were also launching missiles at other fallen cities. I doubted the American military would nuke its own cities, but who knows what some nutcase who got into Minot AFB would do. Maybe this was a last resort to wipe Earth clean. A sort of ‘if humanity can’t have Earth, then no one can have’ it sort of thing.

After what felt like two eternities duct-taped to one another, Casse spoke.

“I put in the missile self-destruct code.” I heard a female’s recorded voice say “Ten seconds to missile self-destruction. Nine. Eight. Seven.” The Bleenaust detached and put all engines on maximum power. They went straight up, gaining 300 miles of altitude inside a couple of seconds.

“I see it!” Estrus said. I looked up. A small white contrail was heading for the city. It came from the northeast. The self-destruction could barely be seen, there was just a tiny white dot that was a bit larger than the contrail, and then nothing.

“Casse, you all right?” I asked.

“We’re fine. We’re a thousand miles up. We need to get back down to Las Vegas. The Bleenausts in Fargo, Bismarck, Minneapolis and Winnipeg have been ordered to attack Minot immediately. That’s a full fifty Bleenausts. I highly doubt that air base will withstand an onslaught like that.”

I sighed. It was a relief. I was still amazed. We’d come within sixteen seconds, the missile self-destructing ten seconds after the code was entered, of being ground zero for a nuclear blast. It wouldn’t be the first time nuclear weapons were used in this war, although I later learned that the nuke that went off at Area 51 was the only point in the war that a nuclear bomb was successfully used against the aliens.

Miller’s corpse was beginning to attract flies. Estrus and I looked to Hernando, who was standing up again and now appeared as confident as a Senator should be.

“They tried to kill us. They tried to fucking kill me.” Hernando said. “The United States military tried to kill thousands of innocent civilians in Las Vegas, all to stop less than a dozen aliens. Michael, in my briefcase I have numerous documents on Area 51. How to get in and what each part does. I wasn’t going to give them up, but I didn’t think that I was completely expendable to the government. Fuck it, as far as I’m concerned, those documents on Area 51, the Crichton Project, the Ultraflu, they’re yours now Michael. I’ve had a change of heart. All you need to do now is let me get the briefcase from the Luxor.” Hernando walked toward the Luxor.

And somewhere, God, the Universe, karma, whatever you call it, snickered.