Armageddon?? (3 page)

Ralaraspanathsis
was swimming quietly through the ocean of this strange planet, his great tail
swinging from side to side as it drove . As one of the Corps of Diabolical
Heralds, his job was quite simple, he had to go to the designated place where
the humans gathered and give them the message that informed them of their fate.
Not that their fate was ever in any doubt but it seemed as if the powers higher
up had got bored with playing their little games with this dimension and
decided to wrap things up. Ralaraspanathsis actually slightly regretted that,
this wasn’t the first time he’d been on this planet and he’d rather enjoyed the
way the humans had cowered before him on his first visit. Still, perhaps his
master would allow him to play with some once they were all in his domain.

It
was half way through that pleasurable thought that the pain hit Ralaraspanathsis.
His head seemed to explode, his ears crushed by a terrible pressure that
shattered the bones in his inner ears. His forearms moved, almost of their own
accord, covering his eardrums, trying to shut out the dreadful crushing noise.
Then, almost before he could think again, the terrible noise was gone.

“Wow,
will you look at that.” Atkin’s voice was awed. The contact was spinning in
circles, threshing in the water creating a maelstrom of flow noise emissions.
“It didn’t like that at all.”

“Hit
it again. Full power to the forward sonar transducers.” The contact had been
settling down when the second pulse hit it. If anything the threshing was even
worse than with the first pulse. “That’s a Baldrick, no doubt. Weapons, fire
tubes one and two. Target that thing.”

Taking
four tons off the extreme end of the moment arm caused Astute’s bow to dip. It
didn’t matter to the torpedoes, they were already out and climbing to the
shallower water near the surface. Once there, they kicked up to 81 knots and
ran out to the estimated position of the target. At that point they dropped
their guidance wires and dived vertically on the contact below them.

A
shaped charge can penetrate six times its diameter; that gave the pair of
Spearfish torpedoes a theoretical penetration of 126 inches. In fact, they did
a bit better than that, blasting deep cavities in Ralaraspanathsis’s back,
severing his spinal column and burning deep into his vital organs. His body
tissues, vaporized by the blast, sprayed out and down, searing and cooking his
internal organs and bursting open the swim bladder that kept him afloat.
Crippled and dying, he felt himself floating upwards towards the surface.
Confusion filled his mind, he was a herald. How could they have done this?

“Well,
there’s no doubt about, we just scored a Baldrick.” A cheer went up around the
control room. Ever since Prime Minister Gordon Brown had quoted ‘Blackadder’ in
his initial announcement, the British had taken to calling the denizens of
hell, ‘Baldricks’. It had a nice, contemptuous air about it, one that was
beginning to catch on. “Number One, take the boat to the surface, we need to
collect samples.”

Phillips
looked through the periscope again. “In fact, if we can tow that wreck in, so
much the better. Environmental, keep a check on water conditions, the Spams
said the ones they shot down had acid blood. We don’t want our hull plating
corroded, the taxpayers would get perturbed.”

Tamanskoya
Motor Rifle Division, Outskirts of Moscow

“Remember
Bratishka. Rodina, chest, slava! Let the name of the Chertkovsky Tank Regiment
chill the very fires of hell!”

The
Americans had killed four of the demons, others had killed one each. Now it was
time for the Rodina to strike its blow against these arrogant beasts who had
dared to declare their dominion over humanity. The demon had appeared an hour
or so earlier and was walking across the countryside towards the Kremlin. If
the pattern from earlier encounters was holding true, it was making for Russia’s
capital. Well, it wouldn’t get there, not if the Chertkovsky Tank Regiment had
its way. Colonel Mikhail Suranov had worked on the presumption that the beast
was heading for the city and set up a neat L-shaped ambush. The kill zone was
covered by the 125mm guns on his tanks and, just to make sure, he had his
Smerch multiple rocket artillery systems dialed in.

Berwaniklasnin
had his message to deliver, as a herald that was his infernal duty and he was
going to do it. The problem was, word had started to spread that the humans
weren’t cowering in fear the way they were supposed to, before it had only
taken a single appearance to throw them into panic. Now, there was a whisper
they were fighting back. Not just fighting back but showing uncanny skill in doing
so. That was a troubling concept. Berwaniklasnin felt a sudden itch on his
skin, there were ten or more brilliant green dots on his hide, points where his
flesh was beginning to swell. One of his arms moved to cover them, as he did
so, the dot vanished from his hide but appeared on the back of his hand. A beam
of some sort? He never had a chance to work it out because a massive blow
struck his chest and sent him staggering backwards.

The
first shot had sent the HVDUAPCFSDS bolt screaming into the beast’s chest,
sending it reeling backwards. An instant later the nine other T-90S tanks of
the first company fired in salvo, their shots striking home as almost a single
blow. The Russian tank gunners had been told that the Thais had killed one of
these beasts with their pathetic little M-41s, the Russian T-90S could do
better than that surely? There was an unspoken message, it had better. And it
could. The beast was down, battered off its feet by the depleted uranium bolts
that had smashed into it. Even as the gunners watched, the beats tried to get
back to its feet but Second Company were waiting. A brief interval as their
laser rangefinders locked in, then another salvo of shots. These ones struck
low, sheering the beast’s legs from its body. It rolled to the ground, trying
to pull itself upright.

What
criminality was this? Berwaniklasnin couldn’t believe what was taking place. He
was a herald, one of those charged with carrying messages to the others. By all
the laws and customs, he was granted immunity from attack for how could wars be
fought if neither side could talk? But these humans had opened up on him
without warning. It was a hideous crime for which the wrath of the higher
powers would be terrible. Berwaniklasnin shook his head, he was crippled, his legs
gone, his green blood soaking into the earth. Even as he looked around another
salvo of shells struck him, ripping his arms from his body. He crashed onto his
back, helpless and dying.

Suranov
looked up at the beast dying on the ground. It had taken 30 hits from 125mm
guns to bring it down and it wasn’t dead yet. If these things resistance to
damage was as high as that, these beasts were going to be trouble.

“Tovarish
Colonel. Please ask your men to help me. I need to sit on the beast’s chest.”
It was one of the politicians from Moscow. It didn’t take long to help him up,
a T-90 pulled alongside the beast and the political was unceremoniously hauled
up into place. Somebody handed up a camp stool and he carefully selected a spot
overlooking the beast’s head, one clear of the bubbling craters where the armor
piercing shots had torn through the beast.

“Beast.
Before you should die, I believe you should know who it is you are waging war
upon. I will therefore read you some of President Putin’s speeches. Listen well
and learn of your folly.”

“I
can almost feel sorry for the beast.” An engineer sergeant placing the
demolition charges around the great body spoke quietly but his team heard and
laughed. The word spread amongst the tank crews and the chuckles spread there
as well. The politician appeared not to have heard, his droning monotone
carried on unaffected.

A
few minutes later, the preparations were ready. Suranov looked up at the
politician who was starting the third speech of his program. “Tovarish. We are
about to blow the beast. Please come down.”

“But
I must finish the President’s Speech to the Iron Worker’s Union.”

There
was a hideous racking groan from the beast, muted only by its failing strength.
Suranov got a clear mental picture of it begging to be put out of its misery,
anything other than to have to listen to another speech. The Colonel could see
its point. “Now, Tovarish, my orders are to destroy this thing then bring
samples back for analysis.

The
politician reluctantly agreed, and the charges were detonated. Looking around,
something puzzled Suranov. “Didn’t the Americans say these beasts had acid
blood? Because this one doesn’t.”

James
Randi Educational Foundation, Florida, USA

“Thank
you for seeing me at such short notice Sir.” The woman was Thai, middle-aged,
still poised, elegant and attractive. She also had the hardest, coldest black
eyes James Randi, aka The Amazing Randi, had ever seen.

“I
am pleased to make your acquaintance Ma’am.”

“Major-General.
Sir, for many years your organization has run a million-dollar prize for
evidence of people with supernatural abilities.”

“That
is correct General. We were going to end the challenge in a couple of years but
now, after these events….”

“Sir,
that is why we wish to speak with you. The events of the last few days have
changed everything. You and your organization have decades of experience in
exposing frauds and discrediting psychics. You probably have more practical
experience in this than anywhere else. My government, and quite a few others I
believe, need to exploit that experience. We believe that buried amongst all
the frauds and imposters there may be a few who really can talk to the dead. If
there are such people, we need to speak with them very badly. We want you and
your organization to find them for us. Mr Randi, I do not exaggerate when I say
that the whole future of the human race may depend upon us finding such people.

Randi
looked at the woman sitting before him. “In that case, how can I refuse?”

National
Command Post, Washington D.C.

“Congratulations
Prime Minister. And yes, we gladly accept your offer of cooperation in
analyzing the body your submarine is towing in. We have heard from the
Russians, they also have samples they are prepared to share with us. The more
information we have the better, there appears to be significant differences
between these recent kills and the ones shot down by our pilots. By the way,
Gordon, are your legal people giving you trouble? Ours are claiming all sorts
of strange things. Their latest one is that these are peace emissaries and
we’re committing war crimes by killing them.

“We
have had some such troubles yes. I suggest, Mister President, that you tell
your people what I told mine. In view of the circumstances, Britannia waives
the rules.”

Chapter
Three

Cabinet
Conference Room, White House, Washington D.C.

“Condi,
could you summarize the international situation at this point?”

“Mister
President. So far, more than two dozen of these invaders, Baldricks the Brits
call them, have been killed around the world. The latest was off Tokyo where a
monster similar to the one killed by HMS Astute came ashore. It was engaged by
the Japanese Ground Self Defense Forces and destroyed. According to the
Japanese Ambassador, all that time spent shooting at Godzilla finally paid
off.” A laugh ran around the room, partly a release of nervous tension but
mostly in appreciation of the unexpected sense of humor shown by Ambassador
Nishamura. “Most of the Far Eastern countries are coming on board pretty
quickly. China, of course, has taken an early stand. The People’s Liberation
Army, Army Air Force and Army Navy have all gone to full alert. Europe’s following
the same approach, they’re all shooting at any Baldricks that appear on their
territory.

“On
the debit side, South America and Southern Europe appear to be in shock still.
Christianity was deeply rooted there and The Message struck them very hard. The
idea that they’ve been systematically deceived by the very being they
worshipped has left them adrift.” Secretary Rice paused for a moment. Coming
from a religious background herself, she could empathize with the degree of
bewilderment that was paralyzing so many governments around the world. “The
Middle East is a mixed bag. We’d expected the area to be virtually depopulated;
after all the word Islam means submission to the will of god and we assumed
that the populations there would just lie down and die according to demand.
Well, that hasn’t happened, not universally at any rate. It’s hard to work out
exactly what is going on but it seems as if, with radical Islam being
discredited by The Message, the alternative philosophy of assertive Arab
nationalism is returning. The largely socialist Arab nationalist movements have
been eclipsed by the Jihadists in recent years but now, they’re coming back and
coming back strong. Of course, the Sunnis are blaming the Shia and the Shia are
blaming the Sunnis for The Message and they both blame us. Business as usual
there. Equally predictably, the Israelis have gone to work with a vengeance.
Apparently one of the Russian Baldricks appeared there, homing in on Jerusalem
and the Israeli Defense Forces shot it to pieces. According to the Israeli
Ambassador, 120mm shells are much more effective than sounding trumpets.
They’ve sent word by the way, don’t use armor piercing shot to take the
Baldricks down. Just whips straight through them. HEAT, high explosive and
canister all work much better.”