I took my finger off the button and ran under the shelter of a café's canopy, in case any debris were to fall my way. And, between the buildings on the other side of the street, I saw the residents of another ship explode. Looking down at my watch, it was 4:00 PM Pacific Time. That was it, was it not?
The day women, men and children fell from the sky amongst the debris of antique ships full of empty gas tanks. All across the world. Simultaneously.
I was grinning with satisfaction. I would not call myself evil, no, I was simply doing what was requested of me. I'm a continental agent for America. The continent, united under one government, and allied with all other dominant superpowers of the Earth and the Mars colonies, had been scheming for months. When the gateway was finally opened, we took Doctor Krall and his research into custody. And we set a date - today - to load everyone, everyone of genetic inferiority, onto a ship. And the rest of us remained, staring at the gaping portal Doctor Krall's machine had opened on the moon's surface.
Meanwhile, the non-compliant countries had atomics coming their way. Likely, we had some coming our way too. And that did not matter. The Earth and the Mars colonies were now irrelevant.
I strutted my stuff, garbed as an agent of the continental government of America, towards the space port. And that one principle, the age old principle of atomics, hung in my mind. Mutually assured destruction, known as M.A.D. Yes, the Earth would be mad after this one. And the Earth was now irrelevant.
I am a pilot. And I can say, as a pilot, that there has been no greater thrill for me as a pilot, ever, than flying out of Downtown Vancouver Spaceport in the wake of an atomic shockwave, as a mushroom cloud the size of Prince Edward Island broke mountains in the distance. And as buildings crumbled, we flew into the clouds. We are the few. We are the few who killed the rest.