“Commander of the watch, this is the Commander in Chief. Under National Command Authority, rule 10, I hereby authorize you to go to console 20–01 and place in these coordinates.” Mitchell was reading from a hand- typed sheet within the folder. He then scanned a map and found America in quadrant A1. “A1. Repeat, Alpha 1.”

“Copy and confirm coordinates. Alpha One, sir.”

“Confirmed, watch commander.”

The 42-year old colonel on watch broke the seal that held the plastic case over the old teletype-styled keyboard that was older than him. He opened his sealed orders, which still held the old name for NORAD, North American Air Defense Command, and followed directions.

In green dotted type on the round Multipurpose CRT in front of him was the simple computer query “Sector?: ___” He typed in A then 1. The keyboard actually clunked with each depression. A second later, a new line emerged. It simply read, “Fair to 16:00 EST Rain From 16:01 to 4:32 EST.”

He then dutifully read the “weather report” to the Commander in Chief.

The President wrote the information on his pad. He then called in his Nat Sec Advisor and formally initiated Archangel, a comprehensive, interagency directive that effectively put all the assets of government on what the military would call Def Con 1. Archangel specifically did not call for the military to change its defense condition. Against a domestic terrorism event, the military had little usefulness other than their traditional disaster roles. Archangel put the government on alert and put first responders on highest priority. It also authorized the release of N, B, and C countermeasures to be disseminated below the supervisory levels of federal and local response agencies in order to react more quickly to nuclear, biological, or chemical attacks in major urban areas. Archangel gave the government a prayer of a chance to stop or at least respond quickly enough to save some human life.

As he looked up at the TV in the Oval Office, he saw what millions of Americans were watching: the round edifice of Madison Square Garden rotating under the lens of the news helicopter circling above the Penn Station/Madison Square Garden complex, the thousands of flashing lights surrounding the Garden, and the thousands of flashing lights when the news channels cut to the other big story, the theater hostages.

It suddenly hit him. They created these preliminary events to get all of our first responders in one place, under the nuke. This would allow them to wipe out the city’s essential services in one kiloton of fire and destruction.

He taped the folder as he murmured to himself, “God, don’t let Hiccock be too late.”

Peter entered Kronos’ OEOB “office,” which looked like a broom closet-which it had been since the Eisenhower Executive Office Building, nee Old Executive Office Building, was built adjacent the West Wing in 1877. In this case, though, the broom closet was stuffed with computers, racks, and plasma displays.

“Kronos, how are you man?” Peter said.

“I’m cool. What’cha got?”

“Do you have my copy of the book here?”

“Better than that; it’s already scanned and searchable. All the formulas are inputted into our seven Crays across the SCIAD network.”

Peter handed him a memory stick. “Here’s what was in Ensiling’s Viennese safety deposit box. It’s a modifier to the aspect spectrum formulas.”

As he spoke, Kronos called up those formula fragments.

“Now here’s the tricky part. We have to move from eight-bit depth to 24-bit in order to achieve the same accuracy as…” Peter was speaking slowly so that he could impress the enormity of the task on Kronos.

“Done,” Kronos said.

“Whoa, I guess with seven Crays lashed together, nothing is tricky.”

“What’s the range for F over the value of X?”

“Let’s see; based on Ensiling’s notes, F is 3.14 times 10 to the 23rd power…”

As they updated the programs with Ensiling’s decoded formulas the two brainiacs bonded across mathematics that were four decades apart.

?§?

The gun smoke in the theater was causing the stage Fresnels to make cones of colored light. This made an eerie backdrop to the pandemonium in the audience. Janice had her arms wire-tied to a chair in the last row of the theater. A man was videotaping her as another wielded a scarab. He was speaking in half-English, half-Farsi. Janice knew he was threatening to cut her head off to whomever the tape was intended. The sheer terror of her predicament made her shiver, but she didn’t bow. She resisted their attempts to manhandle her. That earned her a slap across the face. She snapped her face back immediately with a defiant look that needed no translation into Farsi. It was the only means of defiance she had left.

Hiccock almost hit his head as he slammed on the brakes to avoid a woman with a stroller who absentmindedly stepped out right in front of them.

“For Pete’s sake!” Bridgestone snarled.

“That’s it!”

“What’s it?”

“Take the wheel,” Hiccock said as he jumped out the driver door and around the front of the car to the passenger side. Bridgestone slid over and peered out the top of the windshield. He got a bead on the copter and peeled out before Bill had the door closed.

“White House signals, hold for Situation Room,” the voice on the other end of Bill’s phone announced.

“Tell the President I’ll call him back.”

That got an impressive look from Bridgestone.

Bill dumped the White House call and re-dialed. “Kronos… get Peter’s book.”

“You mean Harmonic Epsilon?”

“Yes. Put it up on the rings. I need this fast. Ready?”

“Got it; shoot!”

“The Jesus Factor. Where is New York City now and is there a cusp coming soon.”

“Got it. Where are you?”

“New York. Chasing the suitcase.”

“Are you out of your freakin’ gourd?”

“What can I tell ya? Trouble is just my middle name.”

“Where is New York now?” Bridgestone asked. “What does that mean?”

“What is New York’s exact distance from the sun at this instant,” Hiccock said.

Kronos came back over the speakerphone. “I got two Crays, strapped together at Dartmouth. We patched in Professor Quan Li and he is uploading an algorithm now.”

“I thought you said one of the scientists on that original committee was the leader’s brother, Dr. Brodenchy,” Bridge said.

“Yes, and that was back in ‘68. But I am hoping for a two-cushion-shot here.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Back then, a computer could carry something to eight decimal points.”

“You already lost me… Just give me the sit rep…”

“Huh? Oh, situational report. Well, I guess that abbreviation didn’t save any time. We might be able to shoot the thing down without a detonation.”

“How you going to pull that off? That’s a suitcase nuke up there and they are not too stable. A little thing like hitting the ground at 300 or so miles per hour might just trigger the thing off.”

“Jesus Factor, Bridge. We figured it out on a basketball.”

Bridge slowly turned and looked at Bill with a screwed expression.

“There’s a line in space, a cusp, and as the Earth goes through it, having large mass, one part is nuclear safe while the other is vulnerable. Then it all reverses cyclically. Depending on the position of a spot on Earth and the sun, you either can or can’t have a nuclear explosion.”

“I’ll be dipped. Like how, on New year’s Eve, it’s already next year in Austrailia when the sun hasn’t set in Times Square yet.”

Вы читаете The Hammer of God
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