The ELI Event B007R5LTNS

imaging system housed on the same satellite that carried the MDA.
    “This area has been used for maneuvers for years,” Pettis was saying. “Mostly just infantry maneuvers. But today, today we’re going to do it! We’re going to show the fat cats in Washington that the Air Force has the stones to start rebuilding Fortress America from the ground up!” Holt nodded non-committally; bureaucrats come and go, he mused, but Pettis perseveres. “I’m glad you’re here to witness this, General. All our computer simulations indicate the MDA beam will completely and utterly destroy the target.”
    “You sure it won’t just bore a hole right through the earth and destroy China?” Holt asked, only half-jokingly.
    If Pettis recognized Holt’s remark as sarcasm, he ignored it. “No, General, the MDA’s effects are limited to what it can directly impact from orbit. It cannot reach underground structures, at least not without first clearing any above-ground impediments.” Holt nodded, sighed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, sir, I have to get these civilians in gear, or we’ll never get this test underway.”
    “Certainly.” Holt finished his coffee and, seeing no trash can, surreptitiously tossed the cup into a cardboard computer-paper box under a table.
    Williams, the young technician with the fresh haircut, said, “Target in view and locked locally, Major.”
    “Time?”
    “One fifty-eight, sir.”
    “You mean thirteen fifty-eight, mister?” Pettis snapped.
    “Yes, sir, um, thirteen fifty-eight.”
    Pettis leisurely traversed the small room, hands clasped behind his back, inspecting each of the video screens in turn. At last, he paused at the monitor which displayed the target building. “Bring the MDA up to ten percent power,” he ordered.
    “Coming up on ten now, sir.”
    “Very well; lock coordinates into NADCOM and get final verification from base.”
    The older of the two technicians carefully made an entry at his terminal, waited for the reply from the NADCOM computer in Colorado. He nodded to the younger one, who leaned over to inspect the message. Satisfied, he reported, “Coordinates and power verified. NADCOM has locked the projector on target, source locked at ten percent. MDA assembly shows all green, sir.”
    Pettis took a deep breath. “All right, here we go. Gentlemen—engage Code Blue.”
    Both technicians pecked at their keyboards. Again Williams spoke for them. “Code Blue active. We’re go, sir.”
    “Transfer execution control to mainframe.”
    “Transferring control... NADCOM’s got the ball now, sir, and will execute when ready.”
    A short, tense pause. Holt noticed that despite the bunker’s artificial chill, he and the two technicians were perspiring. Pettis was not.
    “Timer coming through now, Major. Stand by for ten percent execution in... ten seconds.” Pettis, Holt, and the older technician now stared at the target monitor; the younger man reported the countdown as the numbers flashed across his screen. “Five seconds... four... three... two... one...” He lifted his eyes to the monitor also as the timer reached zero. “Mark!”
    The monitor displaying the MDA graphic showed the thin blue beam as it emerged from the projector. On the monitor showing the live feed, the beam immediately touched the target midway up its wall, then thickened, spread, and passed over it. For a few seconds, the building was bathed in a bluish glow. Then the beam was gone. The building still stood, untouched.
    “Target engaged; direct hit, sir.”
    Confused, Holt looked at the other men. They all continued to stare at the screen, where absolutely nothing was happening. Five seconds passed. Ten. As Holt’s uneasiness grew, Pettis whispered, barely moving his lips. “Wait for it.”
    Holt squinted at the building on the screen, where something intangible, indefinable, was beginning to happen. Although the beam was gone, the glow slowly returned until it engulfed the entire building, covering it in a dull blue haze.
    Then, slowly at first, a mass of brilliant, jagged lines began to emanate from the point on the wall where the beam had first touched it. Gaining speed, the lines spread in all directions along the walls, across the roof, and down the sides of the structure, like lightning bolts replayed in slow motion, thousands of them, in the brightest blue-white imaginable. As they touched one another in their zigzag paths, new lines flowed from their intersections and picked up