The Main Comms & Drone Relay Hub sat perched like a black glass eagle’s nest above the atoll’s underwater dry docks.
Through the fifty-meter curved viewport of multi-layered quartz glass. The deep-sea trench was stretched into the ink-black depths of negative five thousand meters. Flooding the trench floor with eerie cyan soft glow were the running lights of thirty self-running drone submarines and chimeric torpedo-crawlers, their silver-steel hulls moored to massive magnetic overhead frame cranes.
Each vessel was armed with heavy void-tipped torpedoes. Weapons capable of shattering land-wide crustal plates through targeted earth-shaking deep ring. On the overhead frame consoles, self-running test bars were ticking rapidly from amber to crimson as the launch sequences neared completion.
“Look at the tracking data,” Valerie said. Her voice was tight as she leaned over the main end-post station. “He isn’t just targeting the local fault. He has programmed twenty-four of those drones to scatter across the Mid-Atlantic Ridge. If those warheads detonate along the ridge rift, the entire earth-shaking seam between the North American and Eurasian plates will rip open.”
“He’s directing them via direct neural broadcast,” Arthur said. He pointed his type-list magnifying glass toward the ceiling vault above the central light-projected end-post.
