The ELI Event B007R5LTNS

slightly. Kick ’em in the ass, then pat ’em on the back; works every time.
    “Ah, that’s it,” Pettis said, satisfied.
    “What’s it, Major?”
    “Microville, the mini-city military training center near Tybo. Its use as an infantry close-combat training facility was discontinued in 2000. It’s completely abandoned now.”
    Williams examined the map. “What about it?”
    Pettis sighed. “That’s our new target.”
    “The training town? But there’s not a lot of mass in those low-lying buildings; one of them wouldn’t make much of a meal for the MDA, Major.”
    “Not one of the buildings, Williams. All of them.”
    “The whole town? But… but… it’s spread out all over the place. There are streets, houses, libraries, churches, shops, vehicles by the dozens. Surely you aren’t suggesting we do a sweep of the entire area.”
    “That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. Any objections?”
    “Well, yes sir. From a strictly technical standpoint, of course.” He added.
    “Well?”
    Williams rubbed his face, thinking. “The main thing that comes to mind is the amount of power a sweep like that would require.”
    “Are you saying the Source is incapable of delivering it?”
    “Oh, no, not at all. Not in principle, at least.”
    “Damn it, man, make sense! Then what’s the problem?”
    Williams took a deep breath. “The problem, Major, is that the combined mass of the city’s buildings is many times that of the previous test structure and, as I say, is spread out over several square miles. The scope and duration of such a broad sweep would require much more power than a single focused burst like yesterday’s.”
    “Fine. How much more?”
    “Well, sir, I would estimate that a test of this magnitude would require at least eighty percent of the power the Source is theoretically—and I emphasize theoretically —capable of delivering. The fact is, we’ve never successfully exercised the MDA at anything higher than ten percent and that was, um, yesterday. When the accident occurred in 2012, we were running at just eight percent, sir. And you want to execute a sweep that will require ten times that amount of power? No way, Major. Any of the technical team will tell you the MDA is just too unstable to try something like that.”
    Pettis straightened, offended. “Did you just say no way to me, mister? Look, Williams, my job is to get results, positive results, not to stand around whining about some imagined instability dreamed up by a bunch of emotional civilians.”
    Williams persevered. “It’s hardly imagined, Major. At that power setting, the MDA will dig a hole the size of Manhattan right in the middle of Utah. We’re talking about the safety of the whole area.”
    “We’re talking, Williams, about the safety of the future. The future of this great nation, of Fortress America, if we don’t get out of this sissy-ass defense mode. The United States needs this weapon, and I’m not going to stand by and see the project scrapped because you’re afraid of what the MDA can do. You have until 1700 hours today to lock in an eighty percent test on that training site for Friday morning, 0800.”
    Williams recoiled as if he had been shocked. “Friday? Friday? Major, if it could be done at all—and that’s a big if—the initial calculations for such a sweep would take two or three weeks, minimum. Then there’s verification, intermediate level power-ups, and so on. It would be nearly impossible to set up in less than a month, and we certainly can’t do it by Friday!”
    “Can’t, or won’t?” Pettis sneered. “You don’t seem to understand, Williams. This sweep will take place, and it will take place on Friday.”
    “Major, it’s really not safe,” Williams objected as calmly as he could.
    “ Safe? Idiot! Of course it’s safe! The weapon is stable.”
    “I can’t do it by Friday!” Williams insisted, backing away.
    “Then don’t!” Pettis shouted. “Do you think you’re the only one around here who can do the calculations? Do you imagine for one minute that I don’t know everything you know about this project? You insubordinate little bastard. If you won’t follow orders, then get out—I’ll do it myself.”
    “Major,” Williams began. Around them, the other technicians were looking, whispering. “Major, I don’t know...”
    “That’s right, you don’t know!” Pettis geared up for the attack. “You don’t know what you’re doing, you don’t know what’s