Timothy Nugent Author
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Chapter 100 - Conspiracy Theories
🕑 Added 2025-01-16 00:26:57 +0000 UTCBlake was exhausted.
The government had bombed them throughout the night, with only an hour or so break between rounds. Each time he drifted off to sleep, he was quickly awakened by a harsh blast. Now, he lay in his bunk half awake, unable to enter a full sleep, as his eyes strayed to the glass window.
Suddenly, the sky lit up as if it were day. The resulting explosion was so loud, he felt the bed beneath him vibrate. He waited for the motion to stop.
It did not.
Blake sat upright, immediately awake as he tried to determine what was happening. The awful noise continued for five full seconds before it began to dissipate.
What the hell was that?
The explosion was the largest they had ever experienced, and Blake was surprised the shields held. He quickly sent off a message to his mother, and it took only seconds to receive a response.
Donna Summers: That blast took the shield down to 22%. I don’t know what kind of bomb they used, but it’s not recovering as quickly as before.
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: I bet it was that M.O.A.B. he was talking about. It’s the only thing that makes sense.
Donna Summers: Maybe. The sun’s rising, and there’s no way I can sleep now. I’m going to message everyone to meet in the cookhouse for breakfast.
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: Sounds good.
Blake closed the messages and let out a deep breath.
Should I just surrender?
His situation seemed hopeless, and he wondered if a government cell for him and his family was preferable to complete obliteration. It would only be temporary anyway. Regardless, he would not make such a large decision without first consulting the others.
Now that the event was over, his weariness returned.
I need coffee.
Blake shuffled into the cookhouse with his eyelids half closed. The second he entered the building, he froze and took a deep sniff. “Ahhhh, coffee.” With renewed purpose, he rushed to the freshly brewed pot and poured himself a cup.
“Good morning,” Donna greeted him over her own mug as she sat at the table, her usual cheerful demeanor soured.
Blake grunted in response.
“Mornin’,” Jordan said in his southern accent as he entered the room, Brent right behind him.
“What’s for breakfast?” Brent asked after a yawn.
“How are you yawning after that boom?” Jordan asked.
“I’m tired.” Brent sighed.
Peter suddenly exited the kitchen door, with plates of bacon in his hands. “Bacon, eggs, and hash browns.” He sat the plate on the table and laughed as hands greedily reached for a slice. “Don’t fill up too much, the eggs and hash are coming.”
“Thank you kindly,” Jordan replied.
Ten minutes later, the rest of the food was delivered, and they sat around the table to eat.
“Where’s Oliver?” Blake asked.
Donna shook her head. “I think he’s still asleep.”
“How can anyone sleep through that?” Jordan asked in disbelief.
“Oliver can sleep through anything,” Peter replied confidently.
They continued the small talk as they ate, and avoided the looming subject of the shield.
After Blake felt the caffeine finally take effect, he took a moment of silence while the conversations continued. He breathed deeply and broached the subject he had come to discuss. “So, that last blast came pretty close to taking down the shields, and we still have four days left. I’m wondering if it might not be better to just surrender.”
The table fell immediately silent.
“No way!” Brent recovered first, while Jordan shook his head in agreement.
Blake sighed and rubbed his temples with both hands. “Look, I don’t want to either, but it might be the smarter play. I don’t think they’ll kill us in the next four days. After Invasion day, I can try and escape wherever they’re holding us and rescue the rest of you. Then we can make our way back here.”
“That assumes you even know where the rest of us are,” his father pointed out. “What if they fly you to Guantánamo Bay? How are you going to cross the ocean to get back here with no boats or planes?” Peter shook his head. “It’s too risky.”
“Jessica can send a group of constructors over with nano to build the portal room. Once it’s finished, we can just pay to teleport back home from anywhere.”
“How long would that take?” Donna asked.
Blake shrugged. “Two to three weeks.”
“You’re forgetting about the guys with guns,” Peter argued. “They’ll still be here after Invasion day, and you’re the only bulletproof person we have.”
“I think we should add Jessica to this meeting,” Donna stated before her eyes unfocused.
“You think she’s awake this early?” Blake asked.
A moment later, he received a holo-chat request, which answered his question. As usual, the Vietnamese woman was behind her laptop at her desk, a mug of coffee in her hand.
“Good morning,” she greeted them. “What brings you to a meeting so early?”
“Talk of surrender,” Brent growled.
Jessica frowned. “Is something wrong with the shield?”
Blake shook his head. “No, but I don’t know how much longer it can take the abuse.”
“Well, if public opinion is any guide, this may be over sooner than you think.”
“What does that mean? Peter asked. “What’s going on?”
“President Warner is getting hounded on all sides for his decision to bomb The Dome despite your hostages. Some Domers even stormed the White House lawn.”
Blake frowned. “How did people find out about the hostages? I thought the whole point of disabling the cell towers and locking down airspace was so they can do whatever they want without the public knowing.”
“When they released casualty estimates, the government tried to keep the hostage situation secret,” Jessica explained. “The soldiers didn’t like that and informed the families their loved ones were taken hostage. Those families then went to the media.”
“Nice!” Brent whooped.
“Good for them,” Jordan agreed.
“It was not just that news that leaked,” she added. “They also corroborated the friendly fire event. Now, Jennifer Taylor’s credibility is soaring.”
“Thank God for that,” Donna mumbled.
Blake smirked. “Oliver will be thrilled.”
“It’s been about a half hour since the last bomb,” Brent added. “And it was a hell of a lot bigger than the others. I bet they used the M.O.A.B. in a last ditch effort to see if they could crack the shield.”
Jordan sighed. “I hope you’re right, but the President giving up now will make him look weak. I don’t know if he’s willing to ruin his image like that.”
“He does seem to be between a rock and a hard place,” Donna agreed.
“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy,” Blake replied, blandly.
Peter nodded. “Let’s just hope his sense is greater than his pride.”
Jessica nodded and said, “I’ll keep you informed if anything else happens, in the meantime I have to go. I have someone at my door.”
After she left, the table lapsed into silence, and Peter brought out some biscuits with a new pot of coffee. Blake poured himself another cup and stared into the dark liquid.
Ten minutes later, the President was on the radio.
“Ready to surrender yet?” he began, without preamble.
“No,” Blake responded simply.
“Are you certain?” Warner asked in his southern twang. “I can keep this up for weeks if necessary.”
“I don’t think you can,” Blake disagreed. “People found out about the hostages, and they’re pissed. Besides, you’ve been bombing us for hours, and we’re still here.” Then, Blake decided to gamble. “Your precious M.O.A.B. didn’t even leave a scratch. It didn’t even wake up my brother.”
“You’ll come to regret your blatant disrespect,” the president growled. “I told you, son, we’ve got tech you ain’t ever heard of, and I think it’s time you found out.”
After his parting message, the President was gone.
“What do you think he meant by that?” Blake asked.
“I don’t know,” Donna admitted. “But I believe the explosions will stop.”
“Let’s hope so,” Peter replied.
***
“Looks like Mom was right,” Blake yelled as he entered the alchemy Workshop six hours later. Heavy metal music blared over the cell phone speaker, and his brother’s head bobbed to the beat.
Didn’t he get tired of this crap last week?
“Right about what?” Oliver yelled back as he poured a solution from his decanter into his boiling glass beaker.
Blake rolled his eyes. “That they’re done dropping bombs. If you didn’t sleep through this morning’s meeting, you’d know what I was talking about.”
“Did you actually need me there?” his brother asked.
Blake shook his head as he strode over to the bench and turned down his brother’s cell phone. “How does this thing still have a charge?” he muttered.
“Car charger.”
“So, what are you working on?” Blake changed the subject.
“I unlocked a new recipe.”
“What kind of recipe?”
Oliver finished pouring and began to stir it slowly in. “If I get this right, it’ll be our first healing potion!” he said, excitedly.
Blake’s brows rose.
Already?
“How much does it heal?” he asked.
“How the hell am I supposed to know? I haven’t made it yet. And, if you don’t leave me alone, I’m going to fail again, and I’ll never find out,” he warned.
“Fine,” Blake raised his hands defensively. “I’ll leave you to it.”
Just as he was about to exit the building, his brother yelled, “Turn the music back up!”
As Blake walked nonchalantly along the gravel path, blaring music behind him, he watched the skies. The shield partially discolored the cloudless sky, but he could easily see and hear the numerous military helicopters which circled it. They had been a constant presence for over a week, and had only retreated when The Dome was about to be bombed.
Now it just needs to stay this way right up until Invasion day.
Blake yawned and then saw Jordan and Brent beneath the overhang of the faction hall. He changed direction and soon joined them as they rested in the shade.
“How long do you think this will last?” Jordan asked.
Blake shrugged. “Hopefully until Invasion day, but I doubt it. Warner was pretty confident the ‘new tech’ would do the job. Whatever that is.”
“Naw, he was just blusterin,” Jordan replied. “He can’t do nothing with the media watchin.
“Nothing big, anyway,” Brent corrected his older cousin.
“Hey Brent,” Blake changed the subject. “I’ve been wondering, why does Jordan have an accent, but you don’t?”
Brent rolled his eyes. “This idiot adopted that stupid accent five years ago. Said the ladies ate it up. Now, I don’t think he can drop it.”
Jordan smirked. “The ladies do love it. Maybe if you tried it on, you’d get you a girl, too.”
Brent blew a raspberry. “It only attracts the crazies. Why would I want to deal with that?”
His cousin shrugged. “You got me there. My ex…” Jordan suddenly sat up. “Do you guys hear that?”
Blake cocked his head to listen.
Brent shook his head. “Hear what?”
“Exactly,” Jordan climbed to his feet. “I don’t hear no helicopters.”
He’s right.
They left the shade of the faction hall and walked out into the field for a better view. The sky remained clear, and they saw no sign of the military in sight.
“You think they gave up?” Jordan asked.
“No way,” Blake replied. “Not after Warner’s threats.”
“Holy shit!” Jordan blurted and pointed to the apex of The Dome.
Suddenly, a jet black craft in the shape of a triangle shot into view. If Blake was forced to guess, it traveled at close to a thousand miles an hour and then suddenly stopped on a dime. Now, it hovered directly above the shield at an altitude of around a thousand feet.
That’s impossible.
It was large, at least seventy feet from tip to tip, with four glowing orange circles on its underside. Each tip of the triangle held a smaller circle, while a larger one filled the center. The strangest fact of all, however, was its complete silence. It just hovered, ominously above them.
“Oh my God! That’s a Black Manta!” Brent blurted.
“You know what that thing is?” Blake asked in disbelief.
“Yeah!” Brent continued in excitement. “It’s a TR-3b, or maybe c, I don't know its official designation, but it’s totally real!”
“Brent’s into a bunch of conspiracies about UFOs and such,” Jordan explained, but did not look away from the craft.
“UAPs,” his cousin corrected, and then pointed to the strange craft above them. “And I’d say I was justified.”
“Do the conspiracies say anything about what kind of weapons it carries?” Blake asked.
Brent shook his head.
“Maybe it just looks scary?” Jordan suggested.
“Think you can shoot it down?” Brent asked Blake.
He shook his head. “It’s way too high. Besides, did you see how fast it moved? The last thing I want to do is piss it off.”
“Why do you think it’s here?” Jordan asked.
Blake frowned. “Give me a second, I want to check something out.”
He exited the field and strode forward until he was almost directly beneath the large triangle ship. It hovered directly in the center of The Dome, as people now called it, above the middle of the gravel road next to the warehouse.
That’s weird.
As he grew closer, he could see what looked like a mirage above the road. It reminded him of the way heat shimmered over asphalt in the summer. He stepped forward, into the distortion, and immediately scrambled backward.
“Owww!” Blake shrieked and cradled his now sunburned arm.
“What happened?” Brent asked as he and his cousin ran over to him.
“Stay back!” he ordered, and followed his own advice.
When they reached what he judged a safe distance, he showed them the burn.
Brent’s eyes widened. “It’s a Directed Energy Weapon!”
“What’s that?” Blake asked.
“It’s what they use to start all those fires, so they can buy up all the land cheap!” Brent explained triumphantly.
“That’s horseshit,” Jordan disagreed.
While the cousins argued, Blake contacted his mother.
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: Hey mom, can you check the shield integrity real quick?
Donna Summers: Sure. Is something wrong?
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: There’s some kind of UFO above us that’s heating up the ground. I don’t know why the shield’s letting it through, but it might be a problem.
Donna Summers: Integrity is at 99%, but it’s not climbing.
Blake released a sigh of relief.
Donna Summers: Uh, Blake. I just checked the treasury, and it’s shrinking. Are Jordan or Brent building something right now?
He glanced at the two constructors, who were still in their heated argument.
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: No.
Donna Summers: Then I think whatever’s happening is draining the shield, and pulling nano from our treasury to repair it.
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: How fast?
Donna Summers: If I had to guess, we’ll be out of nano by bedtime.
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: Crap. Can you contact Jessica and let her know? I think we need to raise taxes to one hundred percent.
Donna Summers: Sure, but I don’t think that’s going to help. The other teams just don’t make as much as you do.
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: That’s why I’m going to head to the Ursa portal.
Donna Summers: But what about the helicopters?
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: They’re gone.
Blake closed the chat, cursed under his breath, and rushed back to his room to collect his gear. He quickly filled his pack with enough supplies to last a week, and then rushed back outside. On his way to the wall, he hastily explained his plan to Jordan and Brent, and then, just in case, cast Improved Flame Shield on himself.
After a deep breath, he stepped off the merlon, and fell twenty-five feet to the ground below. He only made it three steps away from the wall before the black triangle UFO appeared directly above him. His shield was overloaded almost immediately, and his flesh began to sizzle.
Shit!
In a panic, he leapt into the air, and teleported back atop the wall. Blake grit his teeth in pain, enabled Regeneration, and braced for more heat. Surprisingly, it never came. Instead, the craft slowly floated back to the center of the shield and resumed its attack.
Wait, can it not see me through the shield?
Blake knew from experience that the Dome was transparent unless under attack. Even then, only the affected areas were opaque, and once repaired, it returned to an iridescent shimmer.
Maybe the shield blocks its camera?
Blake sighed in relief, and informed his mother of their new circumstances. If she was right, they had less than twelve hours before they ran out of nano. After that, they would be fully exposed to attack.
Comments
E
Should have just run over and killed the president
Timothy Nugent
Allegedly. 😜
Undead Writer
Thanks for the chapter!! We all know the gov starts the fires XD
John Doe
Have Blake Teleport upward (not directly under the ship) as far as he can. When he reaches the apogee of his range, take the Barrett shot from a position lateral to the ship. From Ouora: "Jon Quirk Worked at Gun Sales (2017–2019)Author has 4K answers and 6.5M answer views · 4y Originally Answered: What is the range of a Barrett 50 caliber? Officially? 1,969 yards. However, the farthest shot on record from a 50bmg chambered weapon, is not with a barret m107, but with a McMillan TAC 50 bolt action sniper chambered in 50bmg, the record distance of a confirmed kill with that 50 caliber weapon is 3871.4yards which is just over 2 miles. Or 3.5 kilometers for our foriegn friends. Barret is just the manufacturer of the one type of 50 caliber rifle, not the round itself."
Timothy Nugent
It's special tech powered by who knows what. Theories range between anti-gravity and fusion engine.
Thundermike00
Ah, see at first you made it seem like its right above the dome enough to attack it. But if it is thousands of feet above the dome, how can its energy weapon from a hover plane be used extensively on a dome? Wouldnt the amount of power needed to attack a dome constantly need to be closer?
Evernigh
Just use the 50cal he so conveniently kept.
Josh
Its nice to see Oliver flourish in his new profession, he seems to be talented :)
Timothy Nugent
Blake has never heard of nor ever seen something even remotely like this. It was also a thousand feet up, far outside his range. His best bet is to observe and calculate his chances, which he does.
Bob
🏹
Thundermike00
I believe many readers can relate to the perspective of a character who has returned from a decade into the future. While it's understandable that he might feel overwhelmed, his passive response to immediate threats feels a bit unrealistic. When faced with a direct challenge, such as a plane hovering above the dome, one would expect more decisive action rather than attempts to avoid confrontation. It's one thing to be vulnerable to distant attacks, but allowing a visible threat to remain unaddressed seems out of character and undermines the tension of the situation.
Timothy Nugent
Okay, I added/changed these lines: “Maybe it just looks scary?” Jordan suggested. “Think you can shoot it down?” Brent asked Blake. He shook his head. “It’s way too high. Besides, did you see how fast it moved? The last thing I want to do is piss it off.” “Why do you think it’s here?” Jordan asked. Blake frowned. “Give me a second, I want to check something out.”
Aaron
I was about to say the same thing. Also it shouldn't have that much energy storage. You can look up energy weapons and they basically suck.
Timothy Nugent
You are the second person to suggest that. I may need to edit the chapter.
Thundermike00
I dont understand. Why dont he shoot it out of the sky?
