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Machines of the Gods
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Machines of the Gods
WILLIAM B. LYONS
Machines of the Gods
Copyright © 2020 by William B. Lyons
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.
ISBN 978-0-578-67514-5
Prologue
“Red One to base!” crackled a voice over the telecom speaker. “I repeat, Red One to base … over! We have a situation out here. I request instructions—and fast!”
The pilot’s voice blended in with the other radio traffic in the nearly empty control tower. With it being just after two o’clock a.m., all was dark except for the lights coming from the twenty or so computer screens and other electronic equipment scattered about this large enclosure.
Private Byron Jones, who’d been momentarily gazing past the clutter of office machines, quickly turned around in his swivel chair. Now facing the workstation, he leaned over the digital console and gripped the mic. After pressing the “send” button, he glanced at the location of the jet fighter. According to the radar screen, it was still two hundred miles out. The pilot was checking in way too early as well, he decided. He could also hear the tension in the man’s voice. Something unexpected was indeed happening.
“Do you copy?” echoed the pilot’s voice again, breaking the silence. “This is an emergency!”
“Red One, I copy,” Jones quickly replied, electronically mapping the exact position of the jet. “What’s the situation?”
After a few seconds of static, the pilot said, “I just completed my routine sweep over the Rockies, south sector, when my long-range scanners picked up a fast-moving UFO. This thing—whatever it is—came streaking across the skies from the west, clocking in at just over eighteen hundred miles per hour. Also, its—”
“Eighteen hundred miles per hour?” Private Jones blurted. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, sir!” the pilot quickly verified. “In fact, its present altitude is just under seventy-five thousand feet. However, it is descending rapidly in a steep arc direction—like a missile would. We could be under attack again.”
“Oh hell …” Private Jones’s voice faded. His mind went back to an incident that had occurred just six weeks earlier. A twin-engine plane packed with explosives had slammed into a military office building down in Houston. The blast had killed twenty-six people. A few weeks before that, a homemade bomb filled with C-4 had knocked out a power station in upstate New York. The primary explosion had killed seven workers, and the power outage that followed—along with the rioting which had lasted for three weeks—had claimed sixty-four additional victims. Then, there was the sinking of that oil tanker by a torpedo launched from a hijacked submarine. Besides being an ecological disaster, many crew members had been lost. This had also been the most costly event in recent history too. Terrorists in the modern world were better equipped and far more devious than ever before.
Moments later, the pilot then said, “I’ve tried to communicate with this thing on all frequencies, and nothing. I’m not getting any life readings on my scanners at all. I don’t think that it is a manned aircraft. The bogie could be some kind of drone.”
“Maybe it’s a meteorite?” Jones nervously responded, hoping that this was the answer. A missile could mean war this time, especially with terror groups like ISIS still out there. “Does it look like a meteor?”
“No, sir! It has changed directions twice and adjusted its speed a couple of times as well. The object is heading straight toward El Paso, Texas on a definite flight plan if it gets that far.”
Private Jones frowned in confusion before adjusting his own radar screen to cover a much wider area. He hoped this action would provide more answers.
The monitor flickered, and the unidentified blip appeared on his system too. The computer’s digital enhancement software kicked in and printed a detailed three- dimensional description of the size and shape of this object. The thing was a circular disk that was about twenty feet across and six feet thick in the center—its widest spot.
“What in the hell could this be?” Jones whispered to himself. He swallowed. “Get in closer and establish visual contact.” He leaned forward and swallowed again. “I want a clear image.”
“Yes, sir.” the pilot replied and he then turned on the jet’s after-burners.
“Use your thermal imaging,” Jones said. “When you get close enough, see if this thing has a vapor trail of any kind. Report your findings immediately. It could still be some new kind of missile. Also, activate your targeting computers in case we have to bring this thing down in a hurry.”
“Yes, sir, I’m turning the sensors on now. I’ll pipe the report over to you as soon as it is loaded into my on-board computer. My missiles are locking on to the target as we speak too.”
“Good.” Private Jones then sighed in frustration. He’d been on this job for only six weeks and had just gotten comfortable with the equipment and personnel. His training had provided for everything—bad weather, crashes, enemy attacks, missile launches—even bombings, but nothing like this. A more experienced mind was needed.
Jones swiveled around, looked past the dozen empty workstations and fancy equipment at the only other person still in the control tower. “Captain Talcott, Red One is about one hundred ninety miles out and is tracking a fast-moving UFO. The bogie is descending rapidly and heading toward a populated area. It could all be another attack.”
Captain Talcott, a brutish-looking man of about fifty years of age, looked Jones’ way and rapidly moved over to the man’s workstation. “I’m already in the loop. In fact, I just got off the phone with Central Command. That same UFO has been lighting up the grid all the way back to California. This thing came down from space out over the Pacific Ocean and then headed inland. Three different sets of jet fighters have already tried to intercept the object, but it simply zipped away from them. Once in the clear, it then slowed to its current speed. The damn thing is playing with us. I don’t think it’s the terrorists this time. They don’t have anything that advanced.”
Jones looked up. “Well, the thing may have met its match this time. Red One is in the XP-5000. That jet can hit hypersonic speeds and maintain that velocity for an extended period of time. We’ll get answers.”
“Excellent, let’s see what happens now.” Talcott then folded his arms, while gazing into the monitor. “I hope the Russians have not developed something new.”
“Red One to base,” the pilot’s voice crackled over the digital speaker again. “I’ve established visual contact, and I’ve never seen a craft like this one before. The bogie looks like a flying plate. It’s not giving off any kind of exhaust, though. However, I can’t get a reading on the structure of the craft either. It’s metallic, but the computer cannot determine what type of metal it’s constructed from. Nothing in the files matches its material in any way. I can’t understand this.”
Talcott frowned and took the mic. “Red One, switch your cameras on and upload the image to the video screens here. Use night-vision. I need a clear picture.” He then looked down at Jones. “I want all of this recorded.”
“Yes, sir.” Jones’s hands raced across the keyboard. The screen flickered, and the image of the object appeared on his monitor too. He looked at the underside of the flying disk for a few moments. “Have you ever seen anything like it before?” he asked, looking up at Talcott.
Talcott frowned and leaned closer into the screen. “Not really. That is not a military craft.” He pondered his next move and leaned into the mic. “Red One, get above this thing and see if it has any markings.”
“Make sure you do,” Talcott replied.
However, the mysterious object suddenly sped up too, moving away very fast. Within seconds, it had increased its distance by almost a mile and was still gaining even more speed.
Jones looked up at Talcott and then back at his radar screen. “It’s zipping away, just like before. It’s outrunning our fastest jet.”
“I can see that!” Talcott growled and then leaned into the mic. “Red One, move in closer. I need a clear view of this thing. Don’t let it slip away!”
The pilot then hit the after-burners again, causing the jet to blast forward as a fifty-foot flame blew from the thrusters. “I’m picking up heavy static, and that thing is still gaining distance. It appears to be making an evasive move.”
“Don’t let it get away!” Talcott yelled. He then leaned closer into the screen and grimaced. He quickly looked down at Jones. “How fast can that jet go?”
“Mach seven!” Jones replied with excitement. “It can maintain that speed for an extended period of time too. That jet is the fastest fighter we’ve ever had.”
“Hopefully that will be enough,” Talcott whispered to himself. Please be enough, he thought.
Jones looked at the screen at the two blips. However, the jet was still losing ground. In fact, the mysterious object’s speed had almost doubled in just three seconds. “Captain Talcott, they’ll be over El Paso in under three minutes at this rate.”
“We can’t let that happen. It’s no telling what that thing is carrying. Besides, that craft is flying circles around our best plane. We have to find out where it came from.”
A small hatch on the bottom of the strange craft suddenly opened, and a small object shot out. It streaked down through the clouds like a flaming sparkler.
“What in the hell is that?” Jones instantly blurted as he suddenly noticed that his radar screen now had three blips. “Sir, what do you make of that?”
Talcott ignored Jones and focused in on the mic. “Red One, I need an update now! What in the hell do you see?”
“Something just came out from under that thing. I could not get a clear view because of the distance, but something did come from an opening under the bogie. Even with my helmet camera, I could not get a clear picture.”
“Overtake the thing!” Talcott yelled. “We need answers now!”
“I can’t!” the pilot replied. “It’s still pulling away—fast. I’m going full throttle with the after-burners at maximum and still I’m unable to keep up. That thing’s speed is still increasing. It’ll soon be out of visual range. I request instructions.”
Talcott tensed in anger. This was definitely the real thing, possibly bigger than the Roswell incident. Whatever decision he made now could possibly change history. He’d have to be right about this. He looked down at the other man. “Jones, track the object that shot out of that UFO. When it hits, form a ten-mile perimeter around that landing spot. Use all of the foot soldiers needed, but I don’t want anyone or anything near the landing spot!”
“Yes, sir,” Jones replied, lifting the phone, making the necessary calls.
Talcott then focused in on the first object again. “Red One, blow that thing out of the skies. Do it immediately before that craft gets out of range! It must not reach El Paso!”
“Yes, sir!” The pilot flicked on his targeting computer. The image of an electronic grid appeared on the helmet’s visor screen. Numbers scrolled down the display. He then clicked on the missile’s guidance control system. After the target was locked in, he pressed the “fire” button. Two missiles shot from underneath the jet, zipping across the black sky like two flaming arrows. He followed the course of the missiles as they approached the mysterious object. The helmet’s digital computer counted down the seconds before impact. Five… four… three… two…
The object suddenly shot off at an unbelievable speed—zipping into the heavens like a shooting star. A small hole between the clouds was the only visual evidence that it had even been there. The two missiles, now unable to locate a target, flew in circular loops.
“Wow, did you guys see that!” the pilot excitedly yelled. “That thing just disappeared into thin air and left me standing still. That object must have accelerated to several thousands of miles an hour to get so far that fast. The thing cleared a ten mile stretch in only a second. It’s not even on my radar screen anymore! My God, I’ve never seen anything like that in my life!”
Captain Talcott leaned into the mic again. “Cut the radio chatter, detonate the missiles, and return to base for a debriefing session. We’ll have a lot to explain this night.”
“Yes, sir!” The pilot pressed the red button on his joystick and watched two twin explosions in the distance. He then turned the jet around and headed toward home. This was an event he’d not soon forget either.
Back in the control tower, Talcott looked down at Jones before speaking again. “Where is the other object headed?”
“It’s almost at the New Mexico border to Texas.”
“Make sure the area is surrounded by only specialized personnel.”
Jones nodded. “It has already been done, and they are on their way.”
“Good.”
***
The second object streaked down through the heavens like a comet and lit up the nighttime sky with a luminous glow before slamming into the desert floor. Arcs of green energy radiated from the crash site, forming an electric pulse that ripped out in all directions for miles, shutting down power and disrupting communications.
Ten minutes later, everything was dark again. Through binoculars, a man’s eyes focused on the still-glowing object in the distance. This man then lowered his binoculars and smiled. The time for his plan to start was now.
The man, Jack Mason (Diamond Jack), swung his agile body into the gray jeep, which was parked on the side of the road. He shut the door and started the vehicle’s engine. Yes, the fun was about to begin.
He shifted gears, pulled the automobile off the main road, and steered it across the sands. The jeep kicked up dirt and rumbled over the uneven ground. Ahead, the glow from the mysterious object radiated brightly. There were just a few more yards to go, he realized. Just a few more seconds remained before he would have the orb in his possession. Things were looking good.
He hit the brakes, put the vehicle in park before leaping out and heading down the dune toward the object that had fallen from the sky.
He ran at full speed toward the glowing cylinder. The ultimate prize was within reach. The time had finally come to enact his revenge on the entire whole world. This would truly be the beginning of the end, and there would also be no one who could stop him—not this time.
Now, he stood beside the fire-extinguisher-sized cylinder and gasped with excitement. The glowing object radiated an unnatural blue light that highlighted his pale skin, making it appear ghostly. Then, there were those tattoos around each eye—black diamond- shaped tattoos, which contrasted greatly with his rust-colored hair. Finally, the light revealed his stainless steel teeth that shined under the pale moonlight. Yes, he too had become a poster boy for a gothic horror show. And soon the terror would begin.
He screwed the top off. Inside was an orb, a sphere-shaped crystal ball.
The thing shined like a diamond, flashing multiple colors and strange designs against his face. In fact, this object was even brighter than the moon above. The strange glass-like sphere also seemed to have had a light of its own.
“Yes, oh… yes,” he whispere
d. He then reached into the opening and withdrew the orb. He wiped a pasty material from around the sphere. Afterwards, he kissed the object and raised it toward the heavens. “My gift from the gods is finally here.”
As if nature itself responded, lightning flashed in the distance and then it was followed by rumbling thunder as a gentle breeze blew up desert sand. Now, he wondered what secrets were blueprinted on this orb. He was sure that these secrets were a king’s ransom.
Behind him, the cylinder started to vibrate. Within seconds, a high-pitched whine—like a jet about to take off—came from the alien cylinder. The pasty material now leaking from the orb also started smoking.
He frowned, knowing that time was running out. Quickly, he placed the orb into the backpack draped across his shoulder and dashed toward the jeep. Upon reaching his vehicle, he climbed in, cranked the engine, shifted gears, and pressed the gas pedal all the way to the floor. The automobile bounced over the sands until it hit the concrete road. He turned left and zipped down the lonely desert highway, clocking in at over a hundred miles per hour within just moments. Just ahead, the lights of a dozen military vehicles could be seen heading this way.
He smiled, knowing that they’d be too late. Everyone would be too late, he thought as they zipped by, racing toward something that would be gone in a few seconds.
Far behind him, the cylinder was now vibrating hard and shining as brightly as a miniature sun. Sparks were also shooting up from its base as the high-pitched whine became deafening. Seconds later, a bright flash ripped through the night sky, creating a wall of fire that extended at least a hundred feet into the air. Next, an arc of energy pulsed, knocking out power and bending shrubs. Then, a blast thundered through—shattering streetlights and windows for miles around. The force of the explosion also blew the approaching vehicles off the road like paper. Finally, the glowing mushroom cloud painted the night sky a spooky orange.
Still, Jack drove and laughed to himself. The ultimate plan was about to begin.
Machines of the Gods