Dinosaur Wars: Earthfall

  ***

  A thousand miles away in a JPL parking lot, Diedre Porter looked at the moon, glad the blue death rays were gone. Frank Johnston was hot wiring an abandoned car even though they didn’t plan to drive anywhere. When the engine started she sat in the passenger seat. Trying the CB radio, she said, “Daddy Longlegs? Are you out there?”

  The familiar voice came back. “I sure am. You caught me sunbathin’ in the nude. I wish you could see my scar.”

  “Glad I can’t.”

  “Anyways, Sweat Pea, whatcha got goin’?”

  “We want to contact NORAD.”

  “No problemo. I been doin’ some fancy wiring these days. Got things rigged up so’s I can connect you direct. Please hold, your call is being transferred.”

  A minute later Daddy Longlegs came back. “I got y’all patched through to General Davis at NORAD. Go ahead, General.”

  “Hello–ello–ello, JPL–L–L,” the general’s voice reverberated through redundant radio connections. “We–we–we owe you a lot.” The sound clarified as someone made an adjustment. “You and your little space probe will go down in military history.”

  “Thank you, General,” Diedre replied. “I hadn’t even considered there being any more history books, let alone Clem being in one. While you’re writing, don’t forget Lloyd Andersen. He gave his life.”

  “Understood and duly noted. I’ll pass that on to the President personally and he’ll notify Congress. They’re in session as we speak. It’s amazing how little damage the enemy did to civilian structures. They were after communications, power and military hardware, and they missed quite a bit of those. You got anything else going on there in Pasadena?”

  “No. And you’re right. JPL didn’t get hit as bad as I thought, only two buildings. But we’re going to lie low for a while. I’ve got to pay some attention to my poor cat, Lupe.”

  “Good plan. By the way, we got word the Pasadena National Guard is patching up the power grid and setting up a food distribution center until the civilian supply lines get moving again. Go check ’em out.”

  “We’ll do that.”

  “As far as we know, the military situation in Southern California is stable. Not many dinos out that way although they’ve spotted something called a mosasaur swimming off the coast. Might make surfing kind of interesting.”

  “Roger that, General. We’ll keep our feet dry.”

  “Good. Let’s hope things stay calm in Pasadena. We’ve got some pretty bizarre critters running around the High Plains. Anyway, I’d like to thank you again for all you did and wish you well. Right now I’m needed on another line. We’ve got a critical negotiation about to start in Montana. Please keep in touch. Davis over and out.”

  “Roger, General,” Diedre replied. “Sweat Pea—I mean Porter—over and out.”

  “And goodbye to y’all twice,” Daddy Longlegs chimed in. “Your time has expired, please deposit twenty-five cents.”

  “Goodbye, Daddy Longlegs. Don’t get a sunburn.” Diedre hung up the handset and asked Frank, “What are you going to do next?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Hole up here for a while, I suppose. There’s a couch in Lloyd’s office.”

  “Naw,” Diedre responded. “You’d get awfully lonely hanging around here all by yourself. Why don’t you come over to my place and stay?”

  Frank chewed nervously on his mustache. “I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

  “After all we’ve been through? A bother? Come on,” she cajoled. “I’ve got a guest bedroom, the water still works in my house, and there’s plenty of food.” She knew that last bit would get him. He perked up, so she went further. “I’ve got a pizza in the freezer that’s probably starting to thaw by now. Maybe we can heat it on the gas grill.”

  He grinned. “You got beer?”

  She nodded. “Might be a little warm, but it’s wet.”

  “How about chips? You got chips?”

  “Yeah, Frank.”

  “Salsa?”

  “Come on, Frank. Let’s go home. I’m getting hungry myself.”