Assault on Atlantis a-5 Page 16

  “The best way to visualize a particle-beam weapon is to think of a lightning bolt. The analogy is so close that particle-beam pulses are referred to as ‘bolts.’ The particles in a lightning bolt flow from a negatively charged cloud to a positively charged cloud or section of the planet. Although the electric field in lightning that accelerates the electrons is typically around five hundred thousand volts per meter, these electron velocities are still less than that in a particle-beam weapon. But the number of electrons in the lightning bolt is usually much greater. In any case, the phenomenon and its destructive results are very much the same.”

  Dane stirred. “What I saw in the Bermuda Triangle gate when Sin Fen destroyed the mist was very much like lightning bolts. But they were blue.”

  “The blue coloring might be a result of muons being used,” Kolkov said. “Because it is neutrally charged, the muon is a good particle to be used in a beam weapon. Neutral muons would not be susceptible to bending by the Earth’s magnetic field as would a charged-particle beam. Neither would the beam tend to spread due to the mutually repulsive force between particles of like-charge, such as electrons or protons, in the beam. In the atmosphere, a charged-particle beam will neutralize itself by colliding with air molecules, effectively creating enough ions of the opposite charge to neutralize the beam. And as you say, the beam used through the skulls doesn’t appear to be neutralized in the atmosphere.”

  “So it just hits a target with a lot of power?” Dane asked.

  “The way a particle beam destroys a target is by depositing energy into the material of the target. As the particles of the beam collide with the atoms, protons and electrons of the material composing the target, the energy of the particles in the beam is passed on to the atoms of the target much like a cue ball breaks apart a racked group of billiard balls. The result is that the target is heated rapidly to very high temperatures-which is exactly the effect that one observes in an explosion; although most people aren’t aware of this. Thus, a particle beam of sufficient energy can destroy a target by exploding it, although that is not the only means of destruction.

  “The power of a particle-beam is the rate at which it transports its energy, which is also an indication of the rate at which it can deposit energy into a target. The technological problems associated with particle-beam weapons have been considerable. The greatest challenge is in the area of directing the beam: The weapon must be able to focus its energy to strike a target that might be many kilometers away. There are two aspects to this challenge. First, the weapon must create a high-intensity, neutral beam with negligible divergence as it leaves the accelerator. Second, the weapon must have a system for aiming its beam at the target. I believe the skulls accomplish both of these things in some way.

  “Wait a second,” Dane said. “If they’re a weapon, how can they also store energy?”

  “What’s the difference between a nuclear bomb and a nuclear power plant?” Kolkov didn’t wait for an answer. “Rate of action. It seems the skulls can vary the rate of action of the energy that they either store or redirect.

  “Back to the beam-the subatomic particles that constitute a beam have great penetrating power. Thus, interaction with the target is not restricted to surface effects, as it is with a laser. When impinging upon a target, a laser creates a blow off of target material that tends to enshroud the target and, in effect, shield it from the laser beam. Such beam/target interaction problems would not exist for the particle beam with its penetrating nature. Particle beams would be quite effective in damaging internal components or might even explode a target by transferring a massive amount of energy into it-called the catastrophic kill mechanism. Furthermore, there would be no realistic means of defending a target against the beam; target hardening through shielding or materials selection would be Impractical or ineffective.”

  “So this beam can penetrate the gate or a sphere?”

  “It should. From what I’ve read of the report Foreman forwarded to me about what happened to Sin Fen and the Bermuda Triangle gate, I think the power from the pyramid was redirected by her mind and penetrated into the portal and to the other side. It is a most effective weapon against the Shadow, as it attacks it at the source, not the propagation end.

  “In addition to the direct kill mechanism of the beam, ancillary kill mechanisms would be available. Within the atmosphere, a secondary cone of radiation symmetrical about the beam would be created by the beam particles as they collided with the atoms of the air. This cone would be composed of practically every type of ionizing radiation known, such as X rays, neutrons, alpha and beta particles, and so on. A tertiary effect from the beam would be the generation of an electromagnetic pulse by the electric current pulse of the beam. This EMP would be very disruptive to any electronic components of a target. Thus, even if the main beam missed, the radiation cone and accompanying EMP could kill a target or at least affect electronic components inside the target.”

  Dane remembered what happened in Cambodia as they approached the Angkor Gate. “Would such a beam be attracted to a radio source?”

  Kolkov nodded. “Yes. The successful development of a PBW depends on the ability of the beam to propagate directly and accurately to the target. Think about a lightning bolt. It does not travel in a straight line, but rather a jagged, irregular path as it darts unpredictably through the sky. Such indeterminacy would never do for the particle beam of a weapon, which must have an extremely precise path of propagation as it traverses the distance to the target.

  “Since muons don’t repel each other, divergence would come strictly from any imparted by the accelerator.

  “It has been theoretically calculated that specific threshold values of the beam parameters — beam current, particle energy, beam pulse length-are required for a beam to propagate through air with reliability. ·Although, the values of these parameters have been classified by both our governments, no particle-beam accelerator made by 1l1an is currently capable of creating a beam with the required parameters.

  “Currently,” Dane emphasized.

  “True, but the theory has been around for a while,” Kolkov said. “The first subatomic particle accelerators were constructed in the 1930s for scientific investigations in the field of elementary-particle physics. The accelerators used for the first-generation PBW system are variations of the present-day, linear accelerators such ‘as the two-mile-long Stanford Linear Accelerator Center, a state-of-the-art-device capable of producing electrons with an energy of 30 GeV Seeing the blank looks, Kolkov added — “Suffice it to say, a lot of power.”

  Getting back to the line between being a battery and a weapon. Possibly the most difficult technical problem in developing a particle-beam weapon is the development of its electrical power supply. To operate a PBW requires that a tremendous amount of electrical energy be supplied over very short periods of time. Because power is energy divided by time, large amounts of energy over short spans of time translate into extremely high power levels. Building a power supply to produce high power in short bursts involves a very advanced field of technology know as pulsed-powered technology.

  “Basically, a pulsed-power device can be divided into three component areas: the primary power source that pros electrical energy over the full operating time of the weapon, the intermediate storage of the electrical energy as it is generated, and the ‘conditioning’ of the electrical power bursts or pulses of suitable intensity and duration to fire the weapon. Each of these three areas has represented a technological challenge for our best scientists, but I think the skulls accomplish all three.

  “Any electricity-producing device, such as a battery or generator, is a primary power source. The requirement of the particle-beam weapon, however, is for a prime power source that can produce millions to billions of watts of electrical power, yet be as lightweight and compact as possible.”

  “Sounds like a crystal skull fits those criteria.”

  “Yes, but there’s one thing that I don’t understand,” Ko
lkov said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Where does the power come from in the first place?”

  Dane had been thinking about that. “ think it can come from a variety of sources. First, I believe the mind itself generates much more energy than we realize, particularly special minds. So in effect, a person transforming from a normal human mind into a crystal skull is punching out a lot of energy.

  “Also,” Dane said, “I think a crystal skull can draw power from other minds, but only when they are generating at peek-” he searched for the correct word-“capacity. Particularly during a peak emotional event.”

  “Such as a massacre,” Earhart said.

  “Yes,” Dane confirmed. ‘’Third, I think the pyramid Sin Fen used to destroy the Bermuda Triangle gate drew power up from the core of the planet somehow. So ultimately what we’re saying is that these skulls are both a source of power and a transmitter for other power sources, specifically the core of the planet.”

  Kolkov nodded. “It appears so.”

  “This is all very nice and well, but what do we do next?” Earhart asked.

  “Because we don’t have the technology to tap the planet’s core like the Shadow has,” Dane said, “we have to find something else to charge the skulls.”

  “And that is?” Kolkov asked.

  “Desperation.”

  “I don’t quite understand,” Kolkov said.

  “From what l understand from the Ones Before,” Dane said. “there is tremendous power generated by humans when they are facing annihilation. Maybe it’s the time when the brain works at peak efficiency; maybe it’s a reversion to our earlier telepathic minds generating emotion that flows from person to person; I don’t really know.”

  Earhart was nodding. “It makes sense. And Little Big Horn certainly was a desperate battle. I’d already given one of the skulls to Bouyer. I’m hoping Tab went through and got the rest to him.”

  “He went through a portal without a suit?” Dane asked.

  Earhart nodded. “Yes. But remember, he was a samurai. If anyone could have gotten the skulls through unprotected, it was Taki.”

  Dane stood. “Then we have to trust he did. And we have to do our part now.”

  MCMURDO STATION, ANTARETICA: THE PRESENT

  The scientists had stayed inside, living off of stockpiled supplies, which was nothing really different for them. They only went outside when absolutely necessary and then completely suited to protect from the sun’s radiation that bathed the area.

  The dogs had no such protection and had not been brought inside due to cramped living conditions. A normally mild viral infection that one of the dogs had was bathed in radiation, Ill1lt3red within six hours, coughed by the dog out into the air and caught in the intake for one of the heating plants for a building. Within six hours everyone inside that building was dead. Just a side effect.

  The others quickly rigged filters as best they could over · their air intakes and huddled even farther inside their buildings. A callout for recovery was ignored. They had sealed their fate with their previous noble decision to stay. Besides, this, and more, would be happening everywhere shortly, and there was no point in using the resources to rescue those who were already doomed.

  RUSSIA: THE PRESENT

  Air raid sirens echoed down the empty streets of Moscow, letting any who had not already fled know that danger was coming, borne on the winds. Some of the soldiers who had been “volunteered” to stay and man critical defense systems simply went AWOL, smashing shop windows, breaking into bars. and carousing the empty streets drunk around the clock. The last time Moscow had been threatened like this had been in the dark years of World War n when German tanks had come within sight of the outskirts of the city. Then it had been Russian willpower and blood along with the brutal winter that had beaten back the invaders, just as had been done to Napoleon the previous century.

  In this new century, though, blood, willpower and winter would matter little to the radiation coming from Chernobyl. So while soldiers drank themselves into a stupor, those who still remained on duty impotently stared at their displays and watching the inevitable approach.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  THE WOLF MOUNTAIN, MONTANA TERRITORY: 24 JUNE, 1876

  Mitch Bouyer sat cross-legged in the darkness, staring straight ahead, listening to the noise of the camp settling in, horses shifting. Men sleeping. Sentries making their rounds. The column of blue coats had halted here a half-hour ago after trying to cross the divide between the Rosebud and the Little Bighorn River and not being able to make it. The regiment had been riding all the previous day and into the night. They had slowly blundered forward in the dark for six hours before Custer had been forced to call a halt, still short of the crest of the divide.

  It was late June, but it was still cool at night here in the northern territory of Montana. Bouyer had reached the Seventh Cavalry two days ago much farther up the Rosebud, not far from where it ran into the Yellowstone. He found it interesting that no word of what had happened to Crook had yet made it to this column.

  Remembering Bouyer from Washita, Custer had been eager to sign him up, not as a hunter this time, but as a scout. Custer had pressed Bouyer for word of what was happening to the south. Bouyer had answered honestly-the last he had seen of Crook’s column was that it was camped along the Rosebud.

  The silhouette of a man wearing a cavalry forage cap walked by him, standing out against the stars. Bouyer recognized the C Company first sergeant.

  “What’s going on?” Bouyer asked, getting to his feet. He estimated it to be about three in the morning. He had spent the previous day and into the evening scouting ahead and had reed back, made his report to Custer, then tried to get some sleep while other scouts moved forward to take his place.

  He noted that there were some fires, which was a change. They were traveling hard and they were traveling fast. Custer wanted to catch the Indians before the other columns, everyone in the regiment knew that. It affected each man differently according to his own wants. For many it brought thoughts of medals and glowing newspaper reports. For most of the enlisted men it meant an end to the hard riding through empty grasslands and a return to post.

  “Lieutenant Varnum and some of the scouts are going to some place called the Crow’s Nest to take a look-see,” the first sergeant said. “The general’s been riding about camp.

  “Other scouts just came in,” the first sergeant continued. The man spit a wad of tobacco juice. ‘’Not good. Then red-faced fellows-” the sergeant paused as he remembered who he was talking to—“meaning no disrespect, say there’s Sioux, all around and we might have been spotted.”

  It never ceased to amaze Bouyer how word of every little thing could spread so quickly through the regiment. Often the thing could spread so quickly through the regiment. Often the word.

  Bouyer looked up at the hills where Varnum would be going to take a look. He could just make out their dark masses against the night sky. The Crow’s Nest. He’d been there be. When hunting with Bridger. It was a good place to look far.

  Bouyer knew Custer wasn’t going to be happy about perhaps being spotted. The plan Custer had sketched out for the officers the previous evening had called for a day of rest for he tired men and horses after crossing the divide before the regiment thrust down into the Little Big Horn valley where the scouts said the Sioux were camped.

  “Where’s the captain?” Bouyer asked. Tom Custer, the younger brother of the regimental commander and winner of two Medals of Honor during the Civil War, was the C Troop commander.

  “He’s with the general.”

  Bouyer had learned much about the Seventh Cavalry in the past two days. There were twelve troops or companies in the Seventh Cavalry, lettered A through M. Under strength, with just fifty to sixty men in each. The regiment’s current role call was about 675 men, and most of those men were spread out over the rocky ground trying to get some much-needed sleep.

  Bouyer was used to being
in the saddle. But even his body felt the ache of the last several days’ ride. God help the poor recruits, he thought. He knew that wasn’t exactly one of Custer’s concerns, but it was for some of the junior officers who spent more time among the men. The Seventh was made up of almost forty percent recruits who had received only minimal training in the basic skills of the cavalry, particularly riding and shooting. There had been no time during the forced march they’d endured the last several weeks for any additional training to be conducted. If trouble came-and Bouyer knew it would from the signs he had been seeing, not to mention his visions — the new men were going to have to learn in the heat of battle.

  The first sergeant spit out some chew. “Guess r d best get the boys ready to move. The general won’t let us sleep if there are some Indians about.”

  Bouyer regretted having gone to sleep. He should have stayed with Varnum. As one of the few who spoke several Indian languages present, Bouyer was now one of the interpreters between the Indian scouts and the Anny officers.

  Bouyer went to his horse and saddled it. He pointed the animal’s nose toward the hills and moved out into the darkness, allowing the horse to pick the way. It took a good forty-five minutes to get near the top. He found a cluster of horses tied to some scrub and added his to them. He went the rest of the way on foot, his worn moccasins making no noise as he went uphill.

  Lie found Varnum and the rest of the scouts on top of a large boulder, black silhouettes against the dark. sky.

  “God damn, God damn,” Lieutenant Varnum was muttering, trying to look through his binoculars.

  The Crow scout Bloody Knife acknowledged Bouyer’s arrival with a nod. Streaks of black paint covered the Indian’s face-his death mask. Bouyer had talked with Bloody Knife briefly the previous day and was not surprised to hear the Crow’s belief that he would be dead soon. Bouyer had given him one of the crystal skulls, with the admonition to keep it hidden, but close by. Bloody Knife had taken it without protest or question, accepting it as he accepted that he would die in battle shortly.