Read Online Doomsday Warrior 13 - American Paradise by Ryder Stacy - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ryder Stacy
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up a charge from its geothermal power source. It holds the power in the same way electricity builds up on a ballon when rubbed. Then the immense power is concentrated and beamed up to our space-deployed SATMOS-5 Strategic Defense Mirror, then directed to whatever we wish to annihilate on the Earth.
TESTING: The ZILCH system was tested on August 8, 1989. Results were not perfect, but it demonstrated that with modifications, the ZILCH can be fully operational and ready by November, 1990.
The test shot was aimed at a fleet of dilapidated warships. They should have melted, but the targets were only heated to tepid temperatures. The mirror and the crystal worked perfectly, only there was a miscalculation as to the interference-constant of the Earth’s lower atmosphere. The telemetry and other data showed what the problem was—the near-ground position of the crystal dissipated some of the power. The crystal has to be raised above the present altitude. Construction has begun on a 300 meter high scaffold.
Rockson put the folder down. He had enough. The crystal would need a tower to be fired from. That meant wherever Killov went, he would have to build one.
Scheransky had been monitoring world news broadcasts. There weren’t any reports of destruction or any ultimatums from Killov yet. Killov was probably right now building a tower. Then the madman had to wire the thing up again. It would take months: Plus Killov needed a huge electrical power source—geothermal or possibly nuclear. Where did Killov take it? Where, within a thousand miles, could he take the crystal where he would have all that power handy? It was a jigsaw puzzle of death that Rockson would have to solve in order to let the world survive for a few more years.
Rock shoved the red plastic-covered file in a bag he had found in the blockhouse and headed back down the slope to Leilani.
Nine
T hat night, after Murf had made some laid-back requests to Chief Umauu, the chief consented to discuss the Killalowee problem at last.
The chief would walk with Rockson on the Chief’s Path through the jungle. “It’s a great honor,” Detroit said, “to be invited to walk with him. But be careful not to offend.”
Rockson saw the chief approach them from his hut. Umauu thumped him on his chest and said, “So we walk as men do on the islands, slowly, head held proudly high, looking straight ahead; not at one another.”
They walked. Rockson observed the no-talking-unless-he-asks-a-question taboo, just as Detroit had coached him.
“Because of your man Archer,” the chief stated loudly, “you bring much happiness to my daughter Hohannah. I am told by Murf-man that you big enemy of bad fella Killalowee—this so?”
“Yes,” said Rockson emphatically. “I’m plenty big enemy of bad fella Killalowee!”
“This big good,” the chief said. He pondered, hands behind his back, for a long while as they walked slowly through the lush moonlit surroundings.
“You have more tobacco?” the chief asked. “Murf-man give me small bag, all gone. You have more?”
“Yes, Chief, we brought you best tobacco of Eastern world—because Murf-man said you like.” Rock was getting tired of the pidgin English.
“That good. I think you good all-around fella-men.”
“Thank you . . .” Rock said.
“Alright,” said the chief.
They strolled on. The parrots were singing night songs and the jungle flowers’ fragrance drifted over the paradise path. The chief stopped in his tracks, suddenly angry. He twisted the ceremonial flywhisk in his hand like he was wringing a neck. “Me wanna mess up bad Killalowee!”
“Good!” Rockson picked up. “Me help you. I mess up bad fella Killalowee good! But I need some things from you and your people to do that!” At last, Rock thought, I’ve made my point.
“Hmmmmm. What you want, Chief-Fella-of-Entire-Outer-World?”
Rock winced at his title. He wished that Murf hadn’t built him up quite so much! Still, Rock liked the
TESTING: The ZILCH system was tested on August 8, 1989. Results were not perfect, but it demonstrated that with modifications, the ZILCH can be fully operational and ready by November, 1990.
The test shot was aimed at a fleet of dilapidated warships. They should have melted, but the targets were only heated to tepid temperatures. The mirror and the crystal worked perfectly, only there was a miscalculation as to the interference-constant of the Earth’s lower atmosphere. The telemetry and other data showed what the problem was—the near-ground position of the crystal dissipated some of the power. The crystal has to be raised above the present altitude. Construction has begun on a 300 meter high scaffold.
Rockson put the folder down. He had enough. The crystal would need a tower to be fired from. That meant wherever Killov went, he would have to build one.
Scheransky had been monitoring world news broadcasts. There weren’t any reports of destruction or any ultimatums from Killov yet. Killov was probably right now building a tower. Then the madman had to wire the thing up again. It would take months: Plus Killov needed a huge electrical power source—geothermal or possibly nuclear. Where did Killov take it? Where, within a thousand miles, could he take the crystal where he would have all that power handy? It was a jigsaw puzzle of death that Rockson would have to solve in order to let the world survive for a few more years.
Rock shoved the red plastic-covered file in a bag he had found in the blockhouse and headed back down the slope to Leilani.
Nine
T hat night, after Murf had made some laid-back requests to Chief Umauu, the chief consented to discuss the Killalowee problem at last.
The chief would walk with Rockson on the Chief’s Path through the jungle. “It’s a great honor,” Detroit said, “to be invited to walk with him. But be careful not to offend.”
Rockson saw the chief approach them from his hut. Umauu thumped him on his chest and said, “So we walk as men do on the islands, slowly, head held proudly high, looking straight ahead; not at one another.”
They walked. Rockson observed the no-talking-unless-he-asks-a-question taboo, just as Detroit had coached him.
“Because of your man Archer,” the chief stated loudly, “you bring much happiness to my daughter Hohannah. I am told by Murf-man that you big enemy of bad fella Killalowee—this so?”
“Yes,” said Rockson emphatically. “I’m plenty big enemy of bad fella Killalowee!”
“This big good,” the chief said. He pondered, hands behind his back, for a long while as they walked slowly through the lush moonlit surroundings.
“You have more tobacco?” the chief asked. “Murf-man give me small bag, all gone. You have more?”
“Yes, Chief, we brought you best tobacco of Eastern world—because Murf-man said you like.” Rock was getting tired of the pidgin English.
“That good. I think you good all-around fella-men.”
“Thank you . . .” Rock said.
“Alright,” said the chief.
They strolled on. The parrots were singing night songs and the jungle flowers’ fragrance drifted over the paradise path. The chief stopped in his tracks, suddenly angry. He twisted the ceremonial flywhisk in his hand like he was wringing a neck. “Me wanna mess up bad Killalowee!”
“Good!” Rockson picked up. “Me help you. I mess up bad fella Killalowee good! But I need some things from you and your people to do that!” At last, Rock thought, I’ve made my point.
“Hmmmmm. What you want, Chief-Fella-of-Entire-Outer-World?”
Rock winced at his title. He wished that Murf hadn’t built him up quite so much! Still, Rock liked the
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