Washington, D.C.

The White House, Oval Office

Philip Cain gritted his teeth; the amount of anger he felt expressed itself when he stabbed the historic desk with his fountain pen, marring its surface. He tried to reason with the man, promising him all the riches in the world, simply to do the most reasonable thing… to submit. The answer he got was—no.

Oh, Michael Freeman said he would think about it, but he knew that there was not a chance for the man to bow his head; he saw the answer in those wretched eyes… there was not a trace of submission in them. It was the same look he has seen enough time in his life, and every time he crushed the bearer of it into nothingness. This time it will be no different.

Besides, he couldn’t see a scenario in which Michael Freeman gave his secrets exclusively to him. If that was the situation, then he had a solution—if he could not have them, then no one would.

They would have made his plans for world domination so much easier; just the same, he lived and ruled in this world long before them, as he would continue to do so after they were obliterated from the chessboard.

No doubt, there would be fallout from what he planned to do, but his spin-doctors were already preparing the stories and making a justifiable excuse. What is more, he had a scapegoat who would take all the blame; the tactic he was taught at his father’s knee.

President Philip Cain picked up the phone and gave the order.

***

Pagan Island, Pacific Ocean

Another videoconference was starting and Michael couldn’t be happier that politicians were professional procrastinators, they managed to delay the beginning for half an hour.

They decided that Michael’s idea of the supervising committee was a sound one, and in the next few days, they would start sending their chosen representatives.

One thing bothered Michael, and he saw it in Philip Cain’s eyes. The President's body language was different, more relaxed. He had that smug expression on his face which his grandfather often called a cat that ate the canary. Philip Cain did not even bother to speak anymore as if he was not invested in this conference any longer. Michael saw that the corners of his lips were slightly turned upwards. That expression on President Cain’s face sent shivers down his spine.

“Max, that bad feeling just got much worse… tell me we are ready to lift off.” He sent through his CEI.

“I had already evacuated the engine level, and I’m starting the engines, but they need time to… Missile detected! Five minutes before impact!” The AI’s voice rang through his mind.

Their time has just run out. He interrupted the current speaker, a Chinese president who was talking about committee obligations.

“Pagan Island is under attack, we will resume later,” Michael briskly told the people on the screens and pressed the button to kill the connection. A moment before their images went out, he caught a glimpse of President Cain’s face and saw him smile.

“How long before liftoff?”

“More than five minutes, the missile was dropped from a B-2 Stealth Bomber from a very high altitude and at a considerable distance, but it will be here before then.”

“Max, can you stop it?”

“No, but I may be able to divert it. It’s going to cost us, the only scenario that shows some promise will damage the energy shield.”

The energy shield was the best line of defense they had. Unfortunately, it was never intended to be activated while they were still on the ground. The contact with earth would interfere with its formation and overload its capacitors. It could be used in a limited way if they were ready to pay the penalty.

Michael looked at the screen, which showed the missile as it was approaching their position. Elizabeth ran to him and hugged him, holding him tight. There was nothing he could do to help the situation; they could only wait for the inevitable countdown and pray for the best.

In the last second before impact, Max activated the energy shield to its maximum extent. It only lasted for a fraction of a second, but that was all they needed. It was not meant to stop the missile, only to nudge it. He saw the moment shield and the missile came into contact with one another and was afraid the missile would activate. Max had obviously taken that into account and manipulated the energy fields accordingly. A split second was all it took, the energy shield was able to push it to the side, enough to avoid hitting the ship. Their hasty plan worked and the missile did not hit its intended target; unfortunately, it did hit something else. The results were immediate.

The missile was a bunker buster, a BLU-113 Super Penetrator, designed to go through more than twenty feet of reinforced concrete before triggering the payload. It did not hit the ship, but it did hit the center of the volcano caldera. It went through the ground far much easier than through concrete, until it encountered Max’s cork, and blew it into oblivion.

That cork was never supposed to fix the problem with the volcano, but to delay the eruption for some time. Subsequently, the pressure underneath it was enormous, and now it had a way out.

On the ship, Michael was trying to stay on his feet, while still supporting Elizabeth. The entire island was shaking and the noise of the eruption could be felt in their bones. The sleeping dragon had been woken up and he was not shy about expressing its anger.

Outside, the world has gone crazy, the explosive eruption of the volcano was so sudden and violent, and the human brain needed a few moments to realize what was happening. That did not stop the birds, which were massively evacuating the island. The eruption was a column of smoke, lava, and ash that rose into the air and then kept on going upwards.

The recently serene ocean was now producing great waves, the captains on all ships shouted the orders to cut their anchors, and to turn their ships away from the danger.

Michael could feel the moment when the spaceship separated from the earth, the vibrations considerably lessened, but they were still far from being safe. On the holo-screen, a live image could be seen of the volcano and a huge pyroclastic flow that was rushing towards them.

“Max!”

“I see it… Hold on!” The AI responded and the ship lurched upward, making almost everybody on board stumble.

That black cloud of scorching gas and burning volcanic matter had a temperature of 1,830 °F (1,000 °C) and was moving at the speed of more than 400 mph (700 km/h). If they were caught up in that thing, it would be like being trapped in a red hot glue, turning the ship into an oven. Even Max could not predict if they would have made it out alive.

Some of those on the escaping Navy vessels looked back at the raging display of earth’s fury and saw a magnificent sight. The transparent biodome was no more, an enormous gray disk was rising from the ash, a moment before the superheated cloud swallowed the entire island.

Their ships were running at full speed away from that hellish place; this has become the last place on Earth where they wanted to be. All the weapons they carried on their ships were insignificant children’s toys in comparison with the rage of the volcano.

“Max… What is that banging noise?” Michael asked, after hearing the sound a crazy drummer would make if he were using the ship’s hull for his instrument. He could feel the tremors through his feet, synchronized with the noise.

“That would be lava bombs, they had just started to come down, but don’t worry, we are in no danger. Well, our paint job is ruined, and holo-emitters on the top are pretty much fried, the bottom ones were scorched by that cloud.” The AI replied.

The colossal ship rapidly gained altitude, parallel with the rising smoke column, but then it veered to the side and flew up. The sailors followed it with their eyes until it was so high that they could not see it anymore.

The volcano continued to vent its fury for quite some time.

***

Washington, D.C.

The White House, Oval Office

Philip Cain could not believe what he was seeing on TV; it was a direct feed from one of the surveillance planes above the island, and it showed something unbelievable.

The moment of his triumph was snatched away by incompetent subordinates, they managed to miss the biodome and hit the volcano instead. And it would seem that the claims made by Dr. Nikolov were true, Michael Freeman had really built a spaceship, which was now off the ground.

He looked on the screen as his prey was getting away, mocking him. If they’d thought they won, then they were sorely mistaken; he was the Primus of the ‘High Council’, and the President of the United States… he will not be denied the victory, the supremacy that was his birthright. There was another option he had at his disposal… the final one.

His hand reached for the telephone again, as steady and sure as was the deadly look in his eyes.

***

USS Donald J. Trump (SSBN-966)

25 nautical miles away from Pagan Island

Captain Gerald Anderson was sitting in his office, while his hands were clutching a piece of paper in his hands. For all intents and purposes… it was his death sentence. Ever since he had decoded the message five minutes ago, his whole body was in a state of shock, and part of him didn’t want to believe that the time had come… the time to pay the piper.

He knew what he was a part of, ever since his youth when he was recruited by Philp Caine personally. The same man who was now the President of the United States.

And if he was truthful to himself, he had a good life. Certainly better than what that misguided delinquent youth could ever hope for. His stint in the juvie would have taken him straight to prison since they were finally arranging to pin the murders he committed on him. What did those lawyers and judges know of the hard life on the streets, where the only law was that of the jungle. Strong survived, and weak ended up dead in the gutter.

That kid didn’t stand a chance when the possibility of something better was dangled in front of him. A new face, a new name, best schools… a nice life. He said yes to Philip Caine’s offer in a heartbeat and damn the price.

And now, he was the Captain of the Columbia-class ballistic missile submarine, which carried a deadly payload of 16 UGM-133A Trident II SLBMs—submarine-launched ballistic missiles. If armed with a nuclear payload, it was enough firepower to give even God nightmares. And now… he was ordered to use one of them.

To launch the missile itself, two codes needed to be entered. One by him and the other by his Executive Officer. At least that won’t be a problem since his XO was just like him— a pawn on Cain’s chessboard. Both of them serving the same master, and part of the conspiracy the size he wasn’t even aware of. Hell, he was sure that more than a few in the command structure of this entire sub was covertly serving Philip Caine…the soulless devil himself.

Captain Anderson took one last look at the picture on his desk, a family photo set in a sterling silver frame. His family, wife, children and even one grandchild. They will have to bear the brunt of his shame since he had no intention to live after giving the order. He had no doubt that the blame will be pinned on him, poetic justice for the crimes he once committed. Besides, he wouldn’t be allowed to live much longer anyway, and if nothing else he could control his own end.

Philip Cain would never forgive disobedience. If he refused this order, his family would pay the price, and his master always collected debts owed to him—in blood.

With control brought about by inevitability, Captain Anderson opened his safe, and retrieved his part of the launch codes… and his personal sidearm.

***

The Spaceship

Destination: Earth’s Orbit

Inside the ship, things were starting to stabilize; the shaking and banging had stopped as soon as they gained some altitude. They had passed the top of the eruption column and the blue sky above them was starting to turn black, with a few stars, which were twinkling in the dark of space.

Elizabeth was still holding onto him. “I guess we made it,” she said smiling at him.

“I guess we did,” he answered and kissed her.

“Let’s not do that again,” Al said. “It was fun and all, but I’m not into roller-coaster rides.”

“Al,” Tyron’s deep baritone rumbled through the room.

“Yeah?”

“Would you mind letting go of my hand.”

Michael turned in their direction and saw that Al was holding on to Tyron’s massive arm as if it was a lifeline.

The smaller man released Tyron’s arm like it was on fire. “Oh, yeah... I was keeping you stabilized… you big ones tend to fall hard, the center of gravity thing… so, you’re welcome.”

Just as everyone started to laugh, Max’s loud voice reverberated through the room.

“Another missile detected!”

On the holo-screen, a tiny point of light was being tracked. Max put a red circle around it, and an approximate trajectory that headed directly to their position.

“How soon?” Michael asked.

“Eight minutes until impact, and we don’t have an energy shield. Michael, if it hits us now, there is a good chance that we could suffer a breach. All the emergency doors on the main level are airlocks that could not withstand much damage. If that is another penetrator… let’s just say it will be bad for our health. I have a few Hammers in orbit, but hitting it would be tricky, they do not have such precision.”

“All right, do you have any transporters in the docks?”

“Yes, there is a big one in the upper bay, and several smaller ones, the lower bay is empty.”

“Take the big one on remote, and ram that damn thing.”

They stood there, silently watching the screen as the minutes went by. The transporter slowly exited the bay doors and Michael urged it in his mind to move faster. As soon as it separated from the ship, it went swiftly in the approaching missile’s direction, remotely piloted by Max, who was calculating intercept vectors. It took only a few minutes, but it seemed like forever before their paths crossed. At that moment, there was a bright flash before all the screens went completely black.

“Max, what happened?”

The AI was quiet for a few seconds, and then he slowly answered. “It was a nuclear warhead,” he said the words that made everyone gasp, “all my optical sensors from that side are fried, and the hull of the ship facing it may be slightly irradiated.”

The ship turned on its axis and undamaged sensors and cameras picked up an image of the dissipating explosion. It was still in the upper parts of the atmosphere so the shock waves were spreading from that point. The entire sky was full of colors, and an artificial aurora formed above the location. Radioactive particles colliding with atoms in the upper atmosphere were creating a stunningly beautiful effect; in the complete opposite of the terrifying forces that caused it.

“Christ… they are throwing nukes at us… will radiation affect us?” Michael asked.

“No, there are many absorbing layers in the walls, and it wasn’t that close. We are above those thicker layers of the atmosphere, and there are no shock waves in a vacuum. But that thing sure did a lot of damage; we lost several satellites and the Hammers close to the explosion. The burst of electromagnetic energy fried all electronics in a large area beneath it. Guam and nearby islands were hit the hardest, also there are many ships dead in the water. If that nuke had gone off over a more populated area, the consequences would be horrifying,” Max answered.

“Can you reverse the trajectory and find out who fired it?” Michael asked, but his expression told that he already had his suspicions.

“I already did, and the culprit is good old USA, it was from one of our subs. We could retaliate, it won’t be so hard to make a few more Hammers.”

Michael shook his head, “No, we don’t want to escalate this. Keep an eye out if there are more coming, and have a transporter ready for another intercept if they are stupid enough to try again. But orbital bombardment would send the wrong message now.”

“So, what will we do now?” Al asked.

“First we need to assess the damage done to the ship and fix everything up. Afterward… I can think of a few things.” The expression on his face was a bit unsettling. If Philip Cain were there to see it, it would have given him nightmares.

They went down to the residential level and saw that people were everywhere. Wide ranges of emotions were on their faces, from the happiness that they escaped the calamity, to fear over the recent events. Many people had some injuries; the original shakes caused by the volcanic eruption were unexpected. Along with the massive acceleration that Max had to apply to escape the pyroclastic flow, which worsened their conditions. Luckily, there were no fatalities, yet many broken bones and contusions.

Max had designed the main ship’s hospital with a much larger population in mind; injured people were quickly taken there to recuperate in the AutoDocs. For the next few hours, Michael and the others talked to people, reassuring them that everything will be alright, repeating the same words over and over again. Finally, he used the ship-wide intercom and transmitted a short message, explaining everything that happened.

The Central Park had remarkably stayed mostly the same; there were overturned benches and some trees were leaning at odd angles, but there were already organized groups fixing the damage.

Michael and the group sat at one of the picnic tables.

“What are you thinking about?” Elizabeth asked him, after a few minutes.

Michael looked around this beautiful place and lifted his head to look at holographic clouds underneath the blue sky.

“I think that we should now attack… Now, we go to war.”

The others looked at him alarmingly. “Wait, you said that it would be bad for our image, why the change of heart?” His father asked.

Michael smiled. “There are different kinds of war, and I was thinking of one that has a special battlefield. It is the war for the hearts and minds of people, also known as the media war.”

“I don’t get it,” Al said.

“Don’t worry, you will. Max, make short videos of recent events, explain how we tried to find a peaceful solution before we were attacked. Nuclear bombs exploding above people’s heads tend to draw attention. Then, a whole segment about building a ship for the betterment of humanity; including how we had to launch in a hurry to avoid being destroyed by those who wanted the technology for themselves. Show images of Pagan Island, before and after, and emphasize what lengths they are prepared to go for the sake of their own greed. Make us look good and reasonable, and make them look bad. Go the whole nine yards, TV, Internet, email, like our previous campaign. And make acting President Cain look as if he was the Devil himself, firing a bunker-buster missile at the volcano, even using nuclear weapons against a group of peaceful scientists.”

“You think that is really going to change things?” Elizabeth asked.

Michael smiled again, “Yes, that is now the most important thing. You still don’t get it… we won.”

“Come again?” Al said.

Michael could see that not one of them could understand what he was talking about, except Max, but that was understandable since the two of them already talked about it over time.

“The moment this spaceship reached orbit, we won the most important thing—our independence. All those countries, those heads of state, don’t realize yet where this is all heading. If we want any chance of making a society in space that has a future, there can be no different nations and conflicting agendas. If we let them set foot here, the future is going to be bleak; all the Earth’s problems would be copied and exported here.”

“But how do you plan to stop them, I still don’t understand.” Al was persistent.

“By denying them space; it’s closed to them… forever. By establishing a new political entity, one that lays claim to the entire Solar System, excluding Earth. They may not know it yet, but Earth is under quarantine from now on.”

“Michael, you’re talking about building an Empire; and what role do you intend to play in all this? An all-powerful emperor?” Anna asked.

He shook his head, “I have no wish to rule, and I don’t really think any sane person would want to inflict that on himself. It is a thankless job, too demanding and consuming, only a megalomaniac would ever want it. I want to be free; I want to live in peace. I want to return to my grandfather’s cabin and live there with Elizabeth. That is my definition of bliss, but that would mean turning my back on things I took on as my responsibility.”

Michael took a moment to collect his thoughts.

“You said building an empire, and I guess that is exactly what we need to do. I will rule, as you say unless one of you wants to take the job?”

He looked around him and none of them would meet his eyes. “I’m being serious, if one of you wants to take the responsibility, I’ll be willing to follow such a person. God knows I tried to convince Max that he should be the one to take the burden, but he doesn’t want to hear about it.”

He looked back at Anna. “Like you, I grew up in a democracy, only to see it failing in so many ways, going against some of its basic principles. And so, I had several conversations with Max about what kind of system we should put together here, what would work. Democracy was out, so was communism. Both were once great ideas… in theory, but like so many others, they were destined to fail. Moreover, the common denominator of all those failed systems is human nature. When too many individuals feel entitled to have more than others, more money, more power, more of everything… the system is bound to break.”

He took another deep breath, shrugging his shoulders.

“We considered every method of government that has been tried before, and ultimately they were all found lacking. In the end, we chose a version of the imperial system of governance, owing to the fact that empires have the longest shelf life. Their biggest weakness is that they tend to crumble when some new emperor, down the line, screws things up. To make something that will last, you need stability, for hundreds or thousands of years. That is exactly what we will provide. Nanites make us almost immortal, and AI’s have the patience to watch and judge. Therefore, the governing system we will create will be the one that enables people to live their lives and chase their dreams, with minimal governmental interference. With a legal system that is easily understood, and applied. But in the end, only one can make the final decision where our paths are going to lead.”

“Whoa… you really have planned this out, I had no idea.” Anna said.

“Nobody did. That is why our image is so important, we need people from Earth; freethinkers, artists and scientists, philosophers, and poets. It is going to start slow, but we will need millions of immigrants to move here and to embrace the way of life we are trying to create. And we want people who understand that living here is a privilege, not a right. Everybody contributes, no freeloading.”

“They’re not just going to take it, you know, the powers down there,” his father said.

“I know, there’s going to be many hurdles that we need to overcome. But now, we have the higher ground, both literally and morally and in any conflict—that’s one of the greatest advantages. Which reminds me, Max, investigate everything you can about Philip Cain. The man already threw a nuke at us, and his appointment to the presidency does not seem right. We need to figure out what happened to Craig Garner, and to see if we can help him.”

“Would you please stop talking about this political stuff, you’re actually making my head hurt,” Al grumbled. “What I really want to know is if you have decided on what to name this freaking ship. It’s kind of weird that it doesn’t have a name, and we can’t call it biodome anymore.”

Michael smiled, “Oh, it has a name, I just never told anyone.”

“Well… what is it?” Al asked after Michael kept them in suspense for a few more moments.

“This is not just a spaceship, it is also a City-ship, and its name is… Ascension.”