Defeat Judgment Day

  Defeat Judgment Day

  Meteor: Book #3

  Written by J.D. Martens

  Copyright © 2018 by Abdo Consulting Group, Inc.

  Published by EPIC Press™

  PO Box 398166

  Minneapolis, MN 55439

  All rights reserved.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  International copyrights reserved in all countries.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without

  written permission from the publisher. EPIC Press™ is trademark

  and logo of Abdo Consulting Group, Inc.

  Cover design by Candice Keimig

  Images for cover art obtained from iStock

  Edited by Amy Waeschle

  LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

  Names: Martens, J.D., author.

  Title: Defeat judgment day/ by J.D. Martens

  Description: Minneapolis, MN : EPIC Press, 2018 | Series: The Meteor; #3

  Summary: Dustin and Karina struggle to survive in Europe, while Jeremy returns to Houston with renewed vigor to help stop the comet. Meanwhile, the United States Government tries to find out more about a terrorist organization, the Soldiers of God. While Suri recovers from a terrorist attack, Robert struggles to work without his “partner in science.”

  Identifiers: LCCN 2017946137 | ISBN 9781680768299 (lib. bdg.)

  | ISBN 9781680768572 (ebook)

  Subjects: LCSH: Adventure stories—Fiction. | End of the world—Fiction.

  | Meteor showers—Fiction. | Teenagers—Fiction | Young adult fiction.

  Classification: DDC [FIC]—dc23

  LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2017946137

  This digital document has been produced by Nord Compo.

  Para Gabi, que sempre acreditou

  Ian Hosmer sat on a hard chair in an interrogation room. The trouble with being a Christian terrorist is that you go to hell if you kill yourself, Ian thought.

  That meant it would be a long, slow death for Ian. The room was dim, but he wouldn’t have been able to see well anyway. His left eye remained only slightly open due to a woman punching him repeatedly in the face. He was handcuffed to the chair, and his feet were cuffed as well. There was blood on his hands and on his wrists. But any amount of torture was worth it. He had done his job.

  “Who do you work for?” the woman asked between blows. “You need to talk, Ian. We can do this all day,” the woman said.

  She had a nice voice. Ian hoped she was a Believer.

  “God will judge all,” Ian muttered.

  “You worked for the fundamentalist terrorist group who call themselves S.O.G., or the Soldiers of God. Is that correct?”

  God works in mysterious ways, he thought.

  Ian pointed his beat-up head toward where her voice was coming from.

  “We are not terrorists. We are agents of the Lord.”

  “Since when did the Lord allow murder?” a man’s voice asked, surprising Ian.

  There must be two people in here now, he thought. Someone clamped something on his toes painfully.

  “Since the dawn of time people have died by His command,” Ian answered. “God is coming. Jesus Christ is returning. Who are we to try to stop Him? Even now, we are taking control of the South, and other parts of the world. There is nothing you can do to stop Judgment.”

  “What other parts of the world?” the man asked in a frustrated tone. “Tell us what you know!”

  Suddenly, Ian felt immense pain sear through him, starting from his feet, and he began to scream. Then, everything went dark.

  Jeremy sat in Soldier’s, the bar near the Johnson Space Center, writing in his journal, which was something he truly never thought he would do. He felt calmer somehow after these writing episodes, as if putting everything on paper gave him some clarity on the world. The bar was also an escape from living with his family again, which after living on his own in Colorado was almost more stressful than the comet. Writing things down helped calm his nerves and focus, so he began:

  December 20th, 2016:

  The past year has been pretty intense so far—a lot of people are even calling it the worst one yet. In February I learned that a comet is on a collision course with Earth, and it’s supposed to hit in around two years. One of the nuclear missiles meant to change its course fell back to Earth and destroyed Miami. It’s hard to know what to say about that; maybe it’s one of those things that’s difficult to represent in words. That’s how horrible it is.

  These two astronomers, Dr. Robert Miller and Dr. Suri Lahdka, found the comet. Apparently it’s uniquely dark, which is why it escaped detection for so long. We’re lucky they found it, and since then they’ve been shooting nuclear rockets toward the comet to try to force it away from Earth’s orbit. The first nukes will hit it in three months.

  Since then, things have gotten a lot worse here. Many countries have fallen to anarchy, or had to rein in their borders to keep their nations stable. In much of the United States, extremist groups have taken over, especially in the west. Colorado and the Pacific Northwest have been taken over by a group who call themselves the Union Anarchists. Apparently they started a new society without government, without bureaucracy. I was there—in Vail, Colorado—and sometimes I think about going back, but instead I’m going to try to help the United States stop the comet.

  In the more rural areas, a Christian fundamentalist terrorist group known as the Soldiers of God (S.O.G. for short) have taken over. I’ve even seen them in areas close to Houston. They have claimed responsibility for the Miami bombing.

  Then, a week or so after I got back to Houston, a plane of scientists here in Houston got blown up just before it could take off. The S.O.G. claimed responsibility for that, too. Dr. Miller was not on the plane, but a girl I had just met, Dr. Lahdka, was. She was one of the few survivors of the terrorist attack.

  I met Dr. Lahdka, Dr. Miller’s co-worker, briefly. I called her a girl earlier, but she’s a woman even though she looks so young. She must only be like twenty-seven or something, which is crazy. She is really smart, and started to teach me some programming as I looked over her shoulder at her project. She didn’t tell me much about it, but it looked important. She just said it was some kind of side project, which I thought was weird because she should be focusing all her efforts on stopping that huge rock hurtling toward us. But anyways, I trust her.

  I feel bad for her family after the attack, and I hope she gets better. Dr. Miller didn’t tell me much. She’s in rehab from major third-degree burns and a brain injury—I don’t know any more than that. I never thought the military would be so important here in the United States, but now that I have this U.S. Government badge, I can see why people are pro-military. Oh yeah, I forgot, the military is everywhere! On the streets, in restaurants, absolutely everywhere.

  Many people would say the world had already descended into chaos before the comet (which Dr. Miller named Shiva, after the Hindu god). The wars in the Middle East, Africa, the poverty and income inequality devastating most of the world’s population, and the ever-growing threat of disease to the poor are all enough to make one wary of the state of our planet.

  Fortunately, not everyone is bent on destroying the world. The United States has organized a multinational team of scientists and engineers dedicated to stopping the comet. There’s Gerald Jan, the billionaire technology entrepreneur, who’s building rockets to help the United States. I think he’s building some kind of big ship, too.

  One of the “good guys,” Dr. Miller, has stationed me at the Johnson Space Center in Houston. The center is being run by someone suspected of being in the S.O.G., which is why Miller asked me to be here—to be a “trusting ey
e,” he called it. It’s been fun so far, kind of like being a spy in a James Bond movie, but I haven’t been able to find out much. All in all, it seems like the Johnson Space Center has become less of a focal point for NASA. It might be because Miller and his team are gone, but I’m not sure.

  Dustin and Karina must have reached Europe by now. I wonder how they are doing, and what they are doing. I hope they’re okay; I have so many questions for them. It sucks that the government took over the Internet. My father always used to tell me stories about life without the Internet. I’d roll my eyes at him, thinking that the Internet would never go away! How wrong I was.

  Other than the initial anarchy that Shiva brought, things have been getting back to normal—at least in Texas. It might be surprising, but even though there’s the Union Anarchists, the S.O.G., and the government—who are all trying to gain power—life for civilians is pretty much the same. For a few days stores only bartered with each other, but since the military came back things are a lot more stable.

  There’s less good food in the supermarket, and the only way to communicate with civilians is by landline phone, but many people have accepted that they have to work against the comet—and by extension for the government—to save the world.

  I keep thinking about Miami, though. It’s gone, wiped out by that nuke. It seems like everything would have had to go wrong for that to happen—and apparently it did. They tried to warn people to leave, and tried everything they could think of to stop it, but still a lot of people died . . . And the citizens of Miami couldn’t do anything about it. That’s the worst part—the fact that all of a sudden a bomb could fall on your head without any warning at all. It’s scary and exhausting. I heard that most of Florida has since been evacuated, with many people having relocated to Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi, because they’re scared of being close to the launch point; they might get hit again.

  I probably would have left, too . . .

  Jeremy looked up from his booth, through the smoke in the bar. Ever since the comet’s discovery people started ignoring the indoor smoking laws. He hated it. Then Jeremy looked back down at his journal, turned a few pages, and started to write again.

  Dear Anna,

  I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I miss you. It’s weird going to bed without you by my side. Your skin is always so soft . . . How are you? Are you happy in Vail? I am working a lot here in Houston, and I’m even learning some programming. It’s safe here. I mean probably not as safe as Vail, but it’s better than it used to be. And hey—at least there’s no Facebook. I love not having it, and it feels like I have so much more free time than before, even though I’m probably busier.

  Sometimes you forget how much someone means to you until they’re gone, and then it’s just—

  “Ah, screw it,” Jeremy mumbled aloud angrily.

  He ripped the page out of his journal and crumpled it up, frustrated. It was the third letter he’d tried to write to her.

  Robert looked nervously at his computer. His nails were nearly gone, he hadn’t showered in seven days, and his gut churned. The island of St. Thomas was out of coffee—or so he was told—so he had been reduced to drinking the swill referred to as instant coffee. Whenever his mind wandered away from work, Suri popped into his head. He even prayed for her—and it was the second time in just six months that he’d prayed. Robert hated the terrorists for it, and then hated himself for turning to the same faith-based garbage. But there was nothing else at this point he could do to save her.

  The bombs were moving toward Shiva, toward that great comet, eagerly racing to defeat and divert it, while Robert hoped his team’s calculations were correct. Secretary Brighton sat next to him, quietly urging the IMPs to make it, and Dr. Ivanov and Dr. Campero sat in the room quietly. Secretary Brighton had organized the meeting to get more information on the nuclear rockets that had just been launched successfully, and were on their way toward the comet.

  “According to our projections, everything is going as planned. We’re preparing for next week’s launches . . . ” Robert began, before changing the subject. “So, about the guy you caught. The terrorist? Did you find out anything more about him? Or the organization he works for?”

  “Robert,” Brighton began, “I think it would be best if you focused on your work right now—”

  Robert was not having it, and yelled, “Damn it, Brighton, one hundred and fifty scientists are dead and you can’t even tell me what happened? I needed those scientists. They were crucial to saving the planet!”

  Robert sighed and clasped his hands together before taking a long silence, at which point Dr. Ivanov continued going over the most recent launch specifications. When Dr. Ivanov was finished, and Secretary Brighton went to leave the conference room, Robert caught up to Secretary Brighton before he could open the door.

  “Well?” he asked.

  Secretary Brighton sighed, and then spoke. “Okay, Robert. The man’s name is Ian Hosmer. He is a twenty-one-year-old unemployed college student. To our knowledge he is a part of the Christian terrorist group known as S.O.G., the Soldiers of God. He is a devout Christian from Waco, Texas, but never exhibited violent behavior according to his friends and family. We don’t know anymore and are trying to learn more about S.O.G. through him. What we do know may seem obvious, but it’s this: he wanted to kill the people who are trying to save the world, because he thinks the comet is a sign from God. A sign that Judgment Day is upon us, and the devout will go to Heaven, leaving the rest to go to Hell. He is basically your typical fundamentalist terrorist.”

  Robert wiped away an angry tear, swearing at Brighton.

  “How the hell could you let this happen?” Robert accused.

  Brighton got angry. “How could I let this happen? What about you? It was your programming that got hacked, wasn’t it? Yes, we failed, and the plane bombing killed one hundred and fifty people, but the hack that killed Miami killed tens of thousands and turned South Florida into a nuclear wasteland!”

  They were close to each other now, arguing like an umpire and a baseball coach over a third strike. The tension in the room was palpable, and Dr. Ivanov shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

  “I’m the one working twenty-four hours a day to stop this comet from destroying the Earth. I’m the one who designed the IMPs and they will work—” Robert ranted against Brighton until Dr. Ivanov stood up, cutting him off.

  “Robert, Mr. Secretary, zis bickering is pointless. Ve must move forward. Ve cannot expect to defeat ze comet while we also fight amongst each other.”

  Robert and Secretary Brighton stood next to each other, breathing heavily. They looked over at Dr. Ivanov and back at each other before taking a step back.

  “He’s right,” Robert sighed. “I’m sorry. We must look forward.”

  “Agreed,” Brighton returned, still scowling.

  Secretary Brighton stayed in the conference room while Robert continued working. They were waiting for the updated feed from the LSST, the Chilean telescope they now had under their control. It gave them a near-live feed of Shiva’s progress toward Earth.

  Now, though, as they received data from the LSST, Robert translated the science-speak for Brighton and David Atkins, the PR representative for NASA. Mr. Atkins had just arrived from Houston. Mr. Atkins walked into the office and plopped down into a chair, tired but ready to work. The president wanted to give the people a reassuring update on the progress of Project Defeat Judgment Day.

  Robert executed the model he’d been working on regarding the comet’s speed, and converted the data he read into English that Mr. Atkins and Secretary Brighton would understand: “The comet’s ices have begun to sublimate due to the Sun, meaning it’s getting faster as it comes toward us. Luckily, these gases are working to our advantage, and are actually diverting the comet a little.”

  “Is this what you expected?” Mr. Atkins asked, scribbling everything on a small notepad.

  “It’s very good news, but no, we did not expect this
to happen for another month or so. For now, our main goal will be to adjust the IMPs so that they follow a slightly new trajectory. Obviously we must hit the comet enough so that it is moved out of a collision course with Earth, but it can only withstand so many hits before it splinters. This would be potentially devastating, since we would have to worry about multiple comets instead of one. Therefore we have to change our modeling, so I’ve put our teams of theoretical astronomers to consider the effects of this new development in terms of rotation, size, velocity, and other factors.”

  “You’re sending more IMPs now, right?” Mr. Atkins asked, continuing to write.

  “Well,” Robert explained, “this is a little tricky. Since the Earth revolves and our two launch sites are fixed, we can only shoot from Earth when we can use the Earth’s rotation to our advantage. We also have weather to take into account, but our next launch is a week from today.”

  “And where exactly are these launch sites again?” Mr. Atkins asked.

  “One site is Cape Canaveral, and one is at a military base called the Vostochny Cosmodrome in eastern Russia. Vandenburg Air Force Base used to be active, but we’ve lost control of coastal California.”

  “I see.”

  “There’s something else you should know, but I think it should be sort of ‘off-the-record’ since we haven’t completely finished this project yet.”

  “What is it?”

  “Well, the billionaire Gerald Jan has built a manned spacecraft capable of holding twenty nuclear projectiles. It will be ready to launch in roughly two months, and should be a tremendous help to us. Because it will be manned, and will have communication capabilities. It will allow us to have an actual visual confirmation of the explosions. Right now, when the IMPs come into contact with the comet, the first thing we’re aiming for is a reduction in the comet’s spin. The spinning makes it more difficult to control, which makes it more difficult to move away from Earth. So, we reduce the spin by hitting the comet with nuclear explosions close to its surface, which will heat it up and cause jets of sublimated gases to eject—” He cut himself off, then simplified, “Basically, it will cause parts of the solid comet to turn to gas. These gases will act like motors to slow its spin. Doing this will make each rocket’s blast move the comet even more.”