Overlord (56 page)

As Jack Collins stepped forward he noticed that they were perched high on a ledge that looked down upon the vessel—a viewing gallery. The first thing he noticed was the enormous bow that was equipped with what looked like a giant sharpened plow. That tapered off into a long girder-style superstructure that he could see housed pressure- and outer-space-resistant compartments that had small portholes lining them. As he took in the whole of the colossal ship he saw that it resembled two World War II battleships sitting bottom hull to bottom hull. The superstructure rose to a height of five hundred feet above the hull and contained radar, sonar, and other turning dishes whose use Collins could not begin to fathom. The structure was duplicated, or exactly a mirror image on the underside of the ship, and was hanging low in an engineered basement of sorts to accommodate its enormous size.

“I think someone finally made something you couldn’t steal, Colonel,” Will said, wide-eyed, as he looked at the size of the vessel below.

All Henri Farbeaux could do was whisper his agreement, as even he was shocked at what the planners had come up with.

Tram was pointing at the upper deck that really did resemble an old battleship. Lying on two differing elevated decks was the forward armament of the ship. Two turrets that were the size of at least four of the USS
Missouri
gun turrets stood out in majestic power as the three guns in each lay dormant. Jack saw the large crystal bulbs on the very tips of each of the six weapons. The turrets themselves looked as if they could house a gun crew of over a hundred. The muzzles of each, capped off for now, were ten feet wide at their base as they disappeared into the turrets, and the muzzles were at least sixteen inches wide before they hit the larger crystal knob at their tips. Collins realized they were looking at laser cannon. They were the type that Sarah had explained they found on the surface of the moon in the crashed ships they had uncovered there.

Inside the immense cavern, thousands of torches were flashing and sparking as the repair to the ancient vessel was continuing even as her proposed launch date was soon arriving. Large patches of damaged hull, the girder system, looked new as other parts were old and rusted. These were in the process of being ground down and painted by the large work crews manning her decks, both upper and lower. The bottom half of the ship was almost an exact duplicate of the upper only the large towers were far shorter. But the resemblance was complete when they all noticed two of the same turrets on the bottom half. That made for six of the large weapons systems in total and that didn’t include at least fifty smaller, twin-barreled turrets lining her superstructure. The staff realized that the ship, if viewed from the side, would have looked like a vessel sitting in calm waters with her reflection displayed perfectly in duplicate, top and bottom. They also realized that the crew of the lower half superstructure would be upside down; utilizing the zero gravity of space they would be operating just the same as the upper crews.

“The vessel—we could never decipher her name in the Martian language—was heavily damaged. So much so it took the combined treasuries of six nations to repair her,” Admiral Kinkaid said as he stepped up to Collins. Jack could see the pride in the faces of both of the brilliant naval engineers as Huffington joined them. “Perhaps it’s better explained by looking at the silhouette on the wall.” He pointed to a large, illuminated design etched on glass sunk into the ice wall.

Jack and the others turned and watched as Admiral Huffington took over the explanation.

“Whatever battles this ship was in, it took an inordinate amount of damage. We have had to replace, or reverse-engineer if you prefer, over 40 percent of her bulk. We have had to replace her six engine bells and mixing chambers at the stern and every one of her sixteen maneuvering jets lining her midsection.” He pointed to certain areas of explanation on the lighted depiction of the
Lee
. “The crystal laser enhancers on every one of the eighteen guns had to be replaced, as they were cracked and broken whenever the ship came into contact with the sea due to the enormous overheating. Cold water and extremely hot glass of any sort does not mix well.”

“What are … these tanks … inside the hull? They … look new?” Tram asked in his limited English, as this was the first time the small man had said anything in English.

“Very observant, Lieutenant,” Huffington said, surprised by the knowledge of the average soldier. “Those are five-thousand-gallon coolant tanks, fifteen in all, upper and lower decks. They are used to flush each of the large barrels at the time of discharge to cool them from the heat of the Argon laser system. Without the coolant, the barrels would melt after the second or third firing of the weapons.”

“Have the guns been tested?” Jack asked.

“Yes, they have, General. Raytheon Corporation built two turrets with three weapons apiece at the Aberdeen Proving Ground two years ago. At first the crystals blew apart, but with the assistance of the Hillman Corporation of Liverpool, England, and their vast history of lens grinding capability, they fashioned new crystals that were able to withstand over a thousand discharges of the system before eventually cracking. We have calculated that we’ll eventually need far less than that from each barrel.”

Collins knew the connotation of the admiral’s words because he knew that the ship wasn’t meant to last that long in battle with the saucers. He didn’t expand on the subject of duration.

Kinkaid tapped the body of the nearly holographic view and it changed, rotating 150 degrees. “As you can see, the vessel is enormous in size and weight. Her thrusters were never meant to lift her off an atmospheric world, thus our dilemma.” He stepped away from the diagram and pointed to the spot on the
Lee
where engineers were busy attaching what Collins and his staff realized were hundreds of powerful solid fuel booster rockets along her midsection.

“They look like space shuttle booster rockets,” Mendenhall ventured.

“Exactly, Captain, only far more powerful. Morton-Thiokol Corporation took three years designing and developing the new system and that should be capable with the one hundred and twelve boosters to get the
Lee
into the air with the assistance of her many maneuvering jets, all one hundred and fifty thousand tons of her.”

“I hate to be the realist here, but where is this ship supposed to fight?” Farbeaux watched the five thousand workmen busily going here and there in all locations of her superstructure.

“Hopefully not too far from here,” Sir Darcy said, glancing upward toward the ice ceiling five thousand feet above their heads. “It really depends upon the Grays and where they place their energy-producing vessel when it arrives for the main invasion.” He looked at his watch for the dramatic effect. “Which should come at almost any time, according to our small alien friend.”

“The main armament of the
Lee
cannot destroy this rather larger saucer on her own, gentlemen,” Huffington said almost sadly. “She can only defend and protect, for as long as she can, the two ships of the boarding party that will assault the enemy vessel and destroy her from within. This is the job of the HMS
Lee,
to fight as long as she can against overwhelming odds to hold station while our people enter the energy ship. Because without that, the Grays cannot bring the rest of their fleet to us. They will wither and die in deep space.”

“Oh, I thought for a minute there we didn’t stand a chance. But now that you’ve explained it, I see not one obstacle to your plan.” Farbeaux shook his head at the arrogant audacity of these men.

“Now you can imagine, Colonel Farbeaux, the hardship that we endured getting other nations to join in the allied coalition,” Sir Darcy stated flatly.

“And what does Mahjtic say about the chances of success?” Jack wanted to know the truth, not just for him but the many thousands of men and women that were going to die in the attempt. He realized now the distant and tired look of Niles Compton the past five years; this knowledge had weighed him down like a drowning man holding cinder blocks while trying to stay afloat.

Sir Darcy Bennett looked from Collins to the two admirals, who looked away from the group. Then the professor turned back and faced the expectant men before him.

“Ten to 20 percent.”

Jack’s staff was silent as they realized that the great hope of the entire world boiled down to a mere fraction of what they had hoped.

“Now you know why your Dr. Compton and Lord Durnsford kept the information making up the Overlord plan so compartmentalized. If the percentage of possible success leaked out before we were ready, the world would just give up.”

Before anyone could bravely say anything in response to deter the fear they all felt, a loudspeaker came to life and over the noise of machinery and cutting and welding torches came the announcement.

“All propulsion engineering personnel please report to your stations. All heavy load handling crews, man your cranes. All riggers to their stations. Arrival of power plant is estimated in fifteen minutes. Repeat, all propulsion engineering divisions prepare for power plant arrival.”

Jack saw the activity below increase as a loud cheer went up from the many thousands of workers who had slaved for the past four years on the most expensive project ever initiated by mankind.

Collins turned to his men and nodded for them to return to the tram. He then turned to the three men who were responsible for the reverse-engineering of the former Martian battleship, the HMS
Garrison Lee
.

“Thank you, gentlemen. Thank you for the truth.”

WALTER REED NATIONAL MILITARY MEDICAL CENTER

BETHESDA, MARYLAND

Niles Compton was sitting up as far as he could in the bed. His right eye and forehead, along with the right side of his face, was still covered in heavy gauze. He had awakened from a state of near-coma to see Virginia Pollock sleeping with her head on her arms at the foot of his bed. He had been awake for the past forty minutes, trying to get the fog of his memory back before he attempted to speak. He watched Virginia and realized that she must have planted herself here in the hospital, which wasn’t a good sign. He would have thought she would have been with the president’s cabinet working on the Event Group part of Overlord.

Niles moved his left foot and Virginia came awake with a start. It was if she was falling from a cliff, which is exactly what she had been doing in her waking hours. She blinked several times and then noticed that Niles was staring at her. His one brown eye took her in and the director of Department 5656 actually managed a small smile.

“How many days?” he asked in a whisper.

Virginia stood and walked to the head of the bed, then leaned over and kissed her friend of fifteen years lightly on the top of his balding head. She wiped at a tear and then smiled at him as she took in his battered features.

“I must say, you look the mess, boss.”

“I feel a mess. Now, how many days was I out?” he persisted.

“Six.”

Niles closed his good left eye and then leaned back against his pillow.

“The president is still in a coma,” she said as she watched Compton’s face for a reaction. There was none. “Vice President Stevens was killed in San Francisco by a Gray attack similar to the Camp David strike.”

Niles acted as if the news didn’t affect him, but Virginia knew the news about his best friend had shaken him to his core.

“Giles Camden is now the acting commander-in-chief.”

“Overlord?”

“At the risk of every one of the president’s cabinet, and most of the military basically under threat of treason, it’s still going forward. The engine arrived in Antarctica this morning. Jack, Carl, and the rest have arrived safely and are on station.”

“The Grays?” he asked as he finally managed to open his one good eye.

“Mumbai and Beijing have been destroyed.”

This time a moan did escape the director’s mouth. He turned away for a moment to gather his thoughts. He faced Virginia once more with a questioning look.

“The Grays have come to take people, Niles. To … consume us. Matchstick held that back from us. They emptied Mumbai and Beijing and then the saucers left. We have them on the Hubble back at their fleet.”

The horrible truth as to the Gray intent was clearly written on Compton’s face. He shook his head, understanding why Matchstick had been so secretive.

“Niles, the largest energy-production ship has left the rest of their fleet, along with over a thousand attack craft—the invasion is about to begin. India and China were nothing but test platforms for the real thing. And nothing the Chinese or the Indian militaries threw at them worked. They shook off even nuclear weapons and completed their raids and then left.”

A light knock sounded at the door and General Caulfield looked in. He was dressed like Niles or Virginia had never seen him before. His civilian clothing made them feel the loss of control more than anything thus far.

“I should have known you were awake, Doctor. It seems you and the president are mentally linked or something.” Caulfield entered the room.

“Jim is awake?” Niles asked hopefully.

“No, but the doctors said his brain activity is rising very quickly. He should be able to open his eyes soon.”

“Thank God,” Virginia said as she shook the general’s hand.

“Overlord?” Niles asked, trying to swallow. Virginia took the glass of water and placed the straw in his mouth and Compton drank deeply.

“Being rushed, I’m afraid. We’re fast running out of time.”

“Everything is in place?” he asked as Virginia pulled the glass away.

“All, with the exception of the two battle groups assigned for the defense of Camp Alamo. I’m afraid our President Camden has a friend in the task force commander.” He saw the sad look cross Niles’s uninjured side of his face. “But with General Collins there, I feel somewhat better about giving Overlord a chance at getting off the ground. Everything else is getting back to the normal plan, thanks to two young men who saw what was happening with their new boss the president, and scattered the airwaves with false orders directed from the White House through the NSA, which immediately forwarded them to all commands.” He smiled. “Even though the NSA director across the river knew them to be forged orders. We owe those two men in the president’s press corps a lot. Especially now that they have been arrested at the direct orders of Camden and director of the CIA designate, Peachtree. Those kids are now in jail, charged with falsifying federal documents and the rumor is a charge of treason is forthcoming, all at a time of war, which means they’ll hang if convicted.”