The Hand of My Enemy

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Authors: Mary Vigliante Szydlowski
still operating are recording dangerously high
levels of radiation."
    "The Hurds," Ozrik raged. 
"They're responsible for this!"
    The technician shook his head.  "No my
Lord.  The defense network was not breached.  There's no way Hurd missiles
could have evaded our new hyper-detection radar system.  They have no stealth
weapons, nothing but prototypes.”
    "If not the Hurds...then who?  Then
what?" he demanded to know.  "What kind of cataclysm could have
caused the destruction you describe?"
    The Undersecretary drew in his breath.  "We
think it has something to do with the weapon we've been developing at Carg.  We
think there was an accident."
    Ozrik's hands were shaking, face ashen,
expression changing by turns from horror, to disbelief, then back again.  He
shook his head.  "That can't be.  The weapon we've been working on was a
new kind of bomb.  Powerful yes, but you can't expect me to believe that a
single bomb could have caused this."
    “It was based on an untested theory, sire, little
more than a mathematical equation, a series of logarithms.  The scientists were
convinced the new fissile material they’d developed would perform according to
plan, but something obviously went awry.  The force they unleashed couldn't be
controlled.  It set in motion a chain reaction, more devastating and
destructive than anything we've ever known."
    "But it can't be..." Ozrik insisted.
    "I'm afraid that it is Sire," the
little man from Military Affairs said, eyes glistening with tears.
    "How many dead?”  Ozrik asked, voice
cracking.  "And the injured?"
    "There's no way of knowing yet, perhaps tens
of thousands dead, ten times that many wounded.  We'll know more when the
surveillance flights radio back their reports.  We've sent a squadron aloft,
equipped with cameras, radiation sensors, and chemical analyzers.  They'll be
able to assess the damage and give us some idea of what's happening.  Once we
know what's out there, we can formulate a plan of action."
    Ozrik nodded.  "How long before we know
something?"
    "The first pictures should be relayed within
the hour.  The analysis of digital readouts of the various test results should
follow soon after that."
    The technician whispered something in his ear and
the Undersecretary nodded to him.
    "My Lord, I have taken the liberty of
summoning your cabinet ministers and scientific experts in a variety of fields:
physics, chemistry, seismology, medicine, agronomy, and meteorology.  They'll
be arriving shortly."
    Ozrik covered his face with shaking hands.  He
felt numb, powerless.  In his whole life, even when he'd stood outnumbered upon
the Plains of Antour to face Crax and his armies, he'd never been this
frightened.  He looked at the despairing faces and then sat down upon his
throne to await further word on the disaster.

*****
     
    The news, when it arrived, was worse than anyone
had imagined.  This was the greatest calamity in the history of the world.  The
apocalypse!  The once mighty island continent of Galt now lay in ruin.
    The explosion generated by the bomb at Carg was
far more powerful than had first been thought.  The underground vaults, where
the weapon had been tested, were not sufficiently hardened; and on detonation,
had literally blown apart, sending flames, dust, and debris a thousand feet
into the sky.  But the bomb was only the catalyst.  Fields and forests ignited,
as did frame buildings and fuel storage tanks, anything combustible.  In a
matter of moments the entire area was swept by a firestorm, a conflagration
where metal melted and raging winds incinerated everything in their path.”
    The quakes cracked pipes in the cooling systems
of reactors hundreds miles from Carg.  Seconds later everything burst into
flame.  Workers panicked, leaving their posts in a vain attempt to save
themselves.  Water quickly drained from the cooling pools, exposing the uranium
rods.  The cores began to melt, producing a toxic fog of caustic,

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