Extinction Machine

Chapter One Hundred Seventeen

VanMeer Castle

Near Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

Monday, October 21, 8:09 a.m.

“Oh my God…,” I breathed, “why?”

“Why destroy China?” Shelton slapped me on the shoulder. “Why end the rising threat that is China? Is that a serious question, Captain? Would you rather have them continue to cut our balls off by making us slaves to their money? Would you like to see us slip farther down the financial tower? China has become the number-one economy and they hold the mortgage to the United States. At the same time they steal ideas, they pirate everything that we have, they’ve built themselves into the number-one global superpower by exploiting our weakness. Our laziness. They have a working T-craft now. They can strike us any time they want. That bit of theater in the Taiwan Strait—that was a demonstration of their power. That was them telling us that the Seventh Fleet—the most powerful armada of ships this world has ever known—will no longer be the defining power in global politics. That was them telling us that the arms race is over, Captain Ledger, and they won.”

He got up in my face. “Unless…”

“Unless what?” I demanded. “You start a war with them?”

“No … like I said, this wouldn’t be a war. As of now ‘war’ is no longer a relevant term. It’s archaic, old world. No, what we’re going to do will be a single, decisive stroke that would result in total victory. They have one T-craft, Captain. Granted, it’s a true Device because they got lucky and found most of the right parts, and then begged, borrowed, and stole the rest. We tried to play that game and came up short. We had to build a synthesized engine, a Truman Engine. And here’s a funny thing—although the Chinese have a true Device, they haven’t cracked the synthesis process for making artificial components. That’s our science, and it’s our trump card. They can use that T-craft to threaten us, to do us great harm, but they need that ship. That one ship is their fleet. But … oh, Captain, we are not building a fleet of ships. We don’t want to get into dogfights or struggle for the supremacy of the skies. Or even of near space. Captain … M3 did not build the Truman Engines for that.”

Shelton touched a button on a control panel mounted into the sill. “T-six you are cleared for departure.”

The T-craft closest to the window suddenly pulsed with white light. It was like a throb, like the first dramatic beat of a heart. Arcs of electricity danced along its skin like white snakes.

“You see that?” asked Mr. Bones. “That’s what is supposed to happen when a Truman Engine fires properly. The energetic discharge is contained and channeled into all shipboard systems. No explosion.”

“It’s a pilot thing,” said Shelton, nodding. “The energy is regulated by the biomechanical matrix. Wicked science, and even though we built these things, we don’t understand where the energy burst comes from. Our other governor, Dr. Hoshino, thinks that the process of firing opens a dimensional gateway to a source of dark matter. She might be right, that part’s more her field than mine. All that matters to me is that Mr. Bones and I figured out how to harness that force. How to use it to fly the T-craft, and how to use these ships as the greatest weapons mankind has ever seen.”

The craft lifted without a tremble. There were no visible engines and none of the struggle against gravity you see with the vertical takeoff-and-landing jets. The craft simply moved upward in a dreadful silence. As it rose above the level of the windows I could see the three round lights near each point of the triangle and a larger central light. It pulsed again, and then the craft began moving away from us, flying over the other T-craft. Men in white jumpsuits cheered and waved at it. As if this was something to celebrate.

“Where’s it going?” I asked, though I already knew.

“China,” said Mr. Bones. “And it will be there right around the time our guests arrive.”

“Guests?”

“Generals and a few congressmen who were convinced that this would be a better use of their time than vying for photo ops in Baltimore.”

“Do they know what you intend to do?”

Shelton smiled. “Not yet.”

“Tell me why you’re doing this.”

“Sure. Sure, I’ll tell you ’cause I’ve read your file and I know that you’re an actual psycho killer, so you’ll appreciate this,” said Shelton.

The bastard was really enjoying this. He slapped both palms on the glass.

“What you see here, all these ships … these aren’t ships, Ledger. These aren’t our fleet. They’re our arsenal. They are bombs.”

“Bombs? You’re going to use these things to drop nukes?”

“Nukes?” laughed Shelton. “Shit, that’s another archaic concept. Nukes are messy. They’re as dangerous to the user as they are to the target. No, Ledger, think bigger. Think ‘clean energy’ as applied to warfare. You see, every single one of these T-craft can deliver a Truman Engine to any point on Earth at twenty times the speed of sound. And then I can remote detonate them by removing life support for the pilot. It’s easy enough. It’s a small sacrifice, but it works. Don’t believe me … ask the kamikaze. Ask the suicide bombers who strap on a vest. They know that the sacrifice of a single life can make a profound impact on the whole world. Now, magnify that by the power of the Truman Engine. If China wants to fight us, let them use their craft to blow up an aircraft carrier or shoot down a few fighter jets. It’s seven thousand miles from here to Beijing and any of these T-craft can be there in less than an hour. An airburst over Beijing will reduce the entire city to dust in a millisecond. Twenty million people will cease to exist that fast. Bang!” As he said that he slapped his palm flat against the cover of the Black Book.

“And they’ll launch every nuke they have right back at you.”

“Will they? Before they can hit the launch codes I’ll blow Shanghai into orbit. Twenty-five million people. Bang! Gone! Guangzhou? Thirteen million. Bang! Shenzen, Tainjin, Dongguan. Bang! Bang! Bang!” He kept slapping the cover of the Black Book. “With half a dozen ships—with only six pilots—we can burn away over one hundred and seventy million of our enemy’s people. How long do you think they will want to fight that war? And … even if they decide to throw away their own ship in a suicide run at us, they can take New York or Washington. But only one. It’ll hurt us, but we will be poised to strike back and the American people will demand that we do. In less than a day China will become a wasteland. I have forty completed Truman Engines. We have nineteen craft built, and thirty more in production. How many do you think we’ll really need to conquer all of our enemies? After China burns, do you think Russia will attack us? Or those bumblers in North Korea?”

“Those generals—your ‘guests’—they’ll stop you.”

“Not a chance,” said Mr. Bones. “We will be giving them a practical demonstration. Before any debate starts they’ll see the destruction of Beijing. It will be a fact of life, Captain Ledger. That page of history will have already been written. Which means they will have to decide what to do next.”

“Then our own allies will—”

“Will what, Captain?” laughed Shelton. “Name one country that will stand up and take a swing at us once they’ve seen what we can do. What they know we can do. Name one country with the balls to stand up to this fleet.”

“America,” I said.

He stared at me, half smiling, waiting for the punch line.

So I gave it to him.

I touched my earbud.

“Did you get all that?”

Mr. Church said, “Every word.”

His voice boomed from the speakers of Howard Shelton’s Ghost Box.

And then all the lights went out.