Von Neumann’s War

Billions of dollars were pumped into the project in less than three months. The north Alabama Defense and Space industry infrastructure made a perfect central location for the AS project development and management. The first tactical and strategic suggestion developed from the project was to gather the nation’s space/defense talent at multiple locations across the country and in locations as fortified as possible. Asymmetric Soldier wings were set up at Cheyenne Mountain, in Wyoming, at a base in Montana, at Area 51 in Nevada, at Langley, Virginia, at CCAFS, at Vandenberg AFB in California, at Wright Patterson AFB in Ohio, at White Sands, Los Alamos, at Clear Lake City, Texas, at Whiteman AFB in Missouri, at the AFRL in Albuquerque, New Mexico, in two locations in Alaska, at Hickam AFB in Hawaii, at Thule AFB in Greenland, at the old Ramey AFB in Puerto Rico, and three U.S. Navy nuclear submarines and two aircraft carriers were designated as mobile research posts.

Thus far, with no actual data on the threat, AS was mostly spinning its wheels. With no better than the 20 meter resolution they’d gotten from Percival, they couldn’t even determine what the probes looked like. They could be some of the large structures they’d seen on Mars or they could be much smaller. The team had no idea how they moved, how they fought or how they thought. All they could do was look at current and projected military hardware and try to apply it to the little bit they did know. It was a frustrating process. And, deep in their bones, everyone on the team knew it was mostly a fruitless one as well.

The aliens were coming and nothing appeared capable of stopping them.

Chapter 9

“Come in, Major Gries, I’m Alan Davis,” the scientist said, gripping Shane’s hand as he entered his office.

“You guys look busy,” Shane replied. The last time he’d been in Redstone was nearly four months before and it had seemed… sleepy compared to, say, the LockMart facility in Denver.

But from the careful inspection he’d been given at the main entrance to the repeated security checks he’d endured to get to the engineer’s office, the entire tenor of the base had changed. There were more people, all of them looking very distracted, and there was far more bustle. It looked more like a battalion getting ready to cross into “Indian Country” than a research base. And he’d seen signs of defensive emplacements under construction — berms being dug on the periphery of the base, construction on the hill that overlooked the Arsenal — that simply didn’t fit any scenario he could conceive. It looked as if the base was preparing for a siege. And finally, before Gries got any closer to knowing just what the hell was going on, he was asked to sign a shit-load of National Security Act paperwork.

“Okay, Major, you know all the secrecy stuff, I’m told,” Alan said, rolling his chair over to a coffee pot and pouring a cup. “You want?”

“Yes, sir, black, sir,” Shane answered.

“Siddown, and stop calling me sir. I’ve never been in the military, call me Alan — or Mr. Davis if you have to, but Alan is what I prefer,” Alan said, waving at a chair and pouring another cup into a none-too-clean mug. “What I’m about to tell you is going to break internationally sooner or later, but details are still going to be TS Special Access. Clear?”

“Yes, sir, uh, Mr. Davis,” Shane replied, taking the cup and a sip. The coffee was good at least. Whatever these eggheads had figured out, some congressman probably figured it would win him a whole hell of a lot of votes in the north Alabama district, because from the looks of things there was a lot of money being spent around town.

“About a year ago, people started to notice that the albedo of Mars, the light reflected from it, was changing.”

“The gray planet,” Shane said, nodding. “There was a news story about it and I saw some stuff online. But I didn’t really believe any of it. Sounded too much like UFO stuff to me.”

“Well, what is happening is…” Alan said, pausing as the door opened to admit a really good looking blonde. Blue eyes, curly hair, fine butt and tremendous knockers. She looked more like a Hooters waitress than an egghead, but Shane had met some fine looking eggheads over the last few months.

“Roger wanted you to see the changes on Mars and the new images of the Moon right away,” the girl said.

“Major Gries, Traci Adams,” Alan said as the young woman walked behind his desk and hit some keys on his computer. “She’s in our astrophysics department.” He paused to look at whatever was on the monitor, it was turned away from Shane, then blanched. “Jesus Christ. How big is that thing?”

“Over fifty meters in diameter,” Traci replied, tossing her hair over her neck to get at the keys again. “And this.”

“It’s… suspended,” Alan said.

“And this,” Traci continued.

“Crap,” was all Alan said.

“I realize I’m probably not accessed for this…” Shane said diffidently.

“You are now,” Alan said, spinning the monitor around so the major could see it.