Shelter

by C A Bird

  “Good. I’d like to see you at the conclusion of this meeting and the facility tour.” Crowder nodded and sat down.

  Someone from the back spoke up. “Do you know how many of us there are? Or how many more might get here?”

  “The level of radioactivity outside is extremely high so I’m afraid everyone that’s coming is already here. It looks like around 250 people made it. That’s fewer than I’d hoped. Many of the later arrivals were injured so you’ll be glad to hear we have two physicians. Some of you have met Dr. Jim Wiggins. The other physician arrived early this morning and, although he’s badly injured, I’m told he will recover.”

  “Mr. Hargraves,” A woman called out, “Do you have medical supplies? I’m on regular medication.”

  “Yes, we have supplies, examining rooms, an operating room, and two hospital beds. We also have some lab and X-ray equipment and a well-equipped pharmacy. I’ll conduct a tour of the entire complex when the meeting’s over.”

  He took another drink and continued, “There’s a child care center for preschool children and a regular school area for older kids. Please understand that education will be a top priority. There will be formal schooling for the children and vocational training for all the other residents, since each individual here has abilities and skills to pass along to others. When we return to the outside world we don’t know what conditions we’ll face or what shape civilization will be in, so it’s imperative that each individual becomes as self-sufficient as possible.

  “What good did our civilization do us?” a tall, well-muscled man called out. “Maybe we should go back to a simpler kind of life.”

  “Sir, we’ll be forced to go back to a simpler kind of life, as you call it, whether we want to or not. Please understand, this shelter will care for us only for a limited period of time. We can’t stay here forever and we’ll live a much less technological existence when we leave.”

  A stunning woman in the front row, with raven hair and green eyes, spoke up softly, “Just how long will that be, when will it be safe to leave?” Many people started to talk at once.

  “Wait a minute, please. I’ll try and explain everything, but let me take it in order.” He waited until the murmuring and shuffling ceased.

  “Although it’s only speculation, we estimate we should be able to live here for approximately a year and a half, if necessary. Theoretically, we should be able to leave here after only a couple of months and be safe from radioactivity, but as long as supplies hold out we should stay here to allow the social disruptions to subside and civilization to be re-established.”

  Mark, listening from the center of the auditorium, thought, “If there’s anyone left out there, that is.”

  “How can you determine how long the radiation will last?” someone shouted out.

  “We have monitoring equipment for that.” Will continued. “Hydrogen bombs by themselves don’t generate radiation because the fusion process, the thermonuclear reaction, creates non-radioactive particles. The problem is that it takes such a tremendous amount of energy to start the thermonuclear reaction that it requires an atomic bomb to detonate it. Atomic bombs utilize fission, the breaking apart of large molecules into smaller, radioactive elements, generating a considerable amount of radioactivity. In addition, they surround the casing of the bomb with additional fissionable material to create a larger explosion and even more radiation. It’s called a fission-fusion-fission process. Unfortunately, the Chinese have recently complicated the situation by using a substance called Red Mercury in their nuclear warheads that, completely apart from the regular bomb, creates a tremendous amount of additional radiation. The half-life of this super radiation is very short, however, and it should deteriorate quickly. The scintillation devices we are using upstairs are indicating a condition in the highest area of the red zone. The radiation is deadly out there, and has been since around four this morning when a shift occurred in the prevailing wind. People who arrived around two a.m. had to undergo significant decontamination procedures and may still get sick. We’ll be able to calculate the radiation’s rate of deterioration as we collect data over the first few weeks.”

  “How about food? Will there be enough?” This question came from an obese individual who obviously placed a high priority on food. His jowls bounced as he talked.

  “The types of meals you ate last night and this morning, the pre-packaged stuff and the fresh foods, are temporary. There’s enough for about two weeks. That may stretch out, however, since fewer people arrived than I hoped. We have frozen, freeze-dried, cured, and dehydrated foods that will last a long time. There’s a farm area where we will attempt to cultivate crops, using artificial means, of course. My daughter Chris has a graduate degree in organically grown foods. We also have quite a few animals: cattle, goats, pigs, and poultry, in a portion of the farm. Supplementing the fresh foods with frozen foods we may be able to extend the period of time we can exist underground. Again, you will see all these areas on the tour.

  “We also have machine shops, laboratories, and manufacturing areas to produce many of the things we may need now and in the future. Hopefully, once we vacate the shelter we can continue to use it as a base of operations, depending, of course, on the conditions we encounter. Maybe the damage outside has been minimal and we can simply return to our old lives.”

  “Yeah, sure. What are the chances of that?” asked the big man.

  “Probably not great, I’m afraid, but we can hope. We have a computerized library containing most of the material in the library of Congress. There are computers and microfiche readers in the library for retrieving and using this information and we also have a great variety of printed material. We actually have the resources to resurrect a semblance of civilization if one no longer exists on the outside.”

  His voice began to rise in volume as the pent-up emotion of the previous day was released. “If you think about the magnitude of our job here! This remnant may be all that’s left of the human race and if we’re not, we’re certainly among the best equipped to continue on. When I speak of maintaining civilization, I don’t mean to perpetuate our past mistakes. There’s so much good that mankind has accomplished; our medical knowledge for instance, that we must educate ourselves and our children to carry on. We may have to combine a primitive lifestyle on the outside backed up by whatever technological knowledge we can save or develop on the inside. We’ve been given a reprieve so let’s make the most of it.”

  He paused for a moment and someone clapped, the rest of the assemblage picking it up as the crowd stood and applauded him. As bad as their current situation seemed, they realized he had saved all their lives.

  “I’m sorry,” he said when the spontaneous display had quieted. “I didn’t mean to preach. All of you will be asked to share your skills and knowledge and I’ll need some administrative help to organize the work force. We have people from all walks of life here but many skills are not represented and we’ll all have to learn new things. After the tour you can return here to view videos of the facility. We have a complete series showing each of the various areas and the supplies that are available. You can also view them on the computers in your rooms if you prefer. It will be a good way for each of you to decide where you can best function to help us all survive.” He left the podium and walked to the edge of the stage.

  A teenaged boy stood and waved his hand. “Mr. Hargraves? Is there someone who can take my braces off?” Mark was gratified to hear members of the audience laughing.

  “Do we have any dentists here?” Will asked.

  There was no answer. “Uh oh. Well don’t worry son, we have plenty of teaching material and I’m sure the physicians can help you. Dentistry has become a very specialized profession and I’m sorry we don’t have a dentist.”

  He waved at the audience, “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you around your home.”

  As he came down the steps and proceeded up the aisle along the side of the auditorium the crowd fell in behind him.
Just as they reached the door to the hallway, the room lurched violently to one side and then quickly slammed the other way. People were thrown to the floor and up against the wall. Mark fell into the seats, bashing his already bruised ribs.

  “Let’s get out of here!” Someone screamed as several people ran out the door into the hallway.

  Others shouted and attempted to crouch against the walls and between the seats for cover. Will tried to keep order, “There’s nowhere else to go!” he shouted. “Get down and stay where you are.”

  “Earthquake! It’s an earthquake!” Someone yelled and others picked it up. But Mark didn’t think it felt like an earthquake, the shaking was too abrupt, not persisting.

  “What the hell happened?” He groaned through teeth clenched in pain. People were screaming as the room shuddered, the force diminishing quickly until eventually it was still. A woman ran into Mark and he turned quickly to take her by the shoulders. “Settle down! There’s no need to panic.” He stared into her eyes and she immediately quieted, calmed by his authoritative presence.

  “Everybody be quiet!” Will’s deep voice claimed their attention and the babble of voices quieted. “We’ll find out what happened and let you know as soon as possible. I don’t believe we’re in serious danger. It may have been a hydrogen blast in fairly close proximity, maybe Los Alamos.”

  “Well hell, that’s reassuring!” the big man murmured.

  Most of the people had regained their feet and were calmed by the fact the shaking hadn’t continued. “The shelter was constructed to survive if Los Alamos became a target. The worst should be over.” Will told them.

  “Mark, can you check with the tower and let us know what happened?” He turned to the others, “Come on now, calm down and we’ll continue our tour.”

  August 22, 10:05 a.m.

  Chris stood with her hands on her hips looking at the large cavernous space that was designed to hold “the farm.” Following the briefing in the auditorium, and the unfortunate reminder of yesterday’s events, she came directly here by following a map she discovered in the main hallway. She came alone to get a feel for the place, knowing in the immediate future a large portion of her time would be spent here, trying to produce fresh food for two or three hundred people. It was going to take a tremendous amount of space to grow food for that many, especially in an artificial environment, but she was amazed at the dimensions of the room and thought it might be possible. The banks of lights hanging from the low ceiling were level, even though the ceiling itself varied in height. It had obviously been hewn out of solid rock, leading her to believe a large underground cavern previously existed here before they enlarged it for their purposes. The ceiling above the lights showed evidence of stalactites although the cavern floor had been completely smoothed over.

  This room’s lighting, her father had told her, was superior to that anywhere else in the shelter, since the plants required it for growth. To her right was a control panel with several columns of switches. She started experimenting and found the illumination could be regulated independently in different areas of the room.

  Directly in front of her were raised wooden benches, with arbors suspended above. Some were lattices, and others were open frames to allow light to penetrate to the plants after the boxes were planted. There was enough variety to allow for varying amounts of light. Wires or strings were suspended from the arbors to the interior of boxes allowing the shelter’s hydroponics garden to grow plants supported by these wires, the roots of the plants suspended in a nutrient broth or artificial soil. As she walked slowly down the aisles between the rows of boxes she noticed some had pumice lining the bottom while others were filled with a liquid she could tell wasn’t water. The rows, numbering a half dozen, were broken into sections to allow access in both directions but she estimated that the total length was at least a hundred yards long.

  The metal entry door had reminded her of an elevator, opening down the middle when she pushed a button and closing automatically after she’d passed through. It seemed faster than most elevator doors, though, and made a whooshing sound as it opened. Because of the excellent lighting, she could see completely across the cave to the far side where she could see an identical door set in the rock wall. To her left was an area without hydroponics equipment, furrows had been gouged out of the cavern floor and it was obvious to her trained eye the soil had recently been brought in from the outside. This area had drip systems visible throughout.

  All the way back to the right she discovered a small grassy area with three fruit trees growing in front of a row of offices built directly into the cavern wall. A row of windows looked out on this small lawn. She could see desks, computer equipment, and shelves full of books and manuals. In a separate area there appeared to be analyzers and lab equipment in what appeared to be a research lab to the right of the offices. Lights were on in all the offices and she wondered about the waste of electricity. The lawn butted up against the rock wall where the offices ended on the left and a small waterfall cascaded into a pool. She smiled at this seemingly unnecessary, but welcome, amenity. There was a small niche between the pool and the first office wall, which protruded slightly out into the cave. This tiny alcove was the only dark place she’d seen in the entire cave, shaded partially by the office wall. She walked into the niche and knelt down to touch the lawn, feeling a seam that indicated it was recently planted sod. Sinking down in the darkness, she leaned back against the rock wall, drew her knees up and put her head down on her crossed arms.

  She let her thoughts drift to the events of yesterday, when her life was normal and she was preparing for the new project with Dr. Tanner, Jim Burlesen, Jackie Kwan, and Joyce Barnett. Where were they now? She had worked on two other experimental marine projects with Jackie and had known him during her entire post-graduate career.

  She made love to him the night before they left.

  Following the charity ball, he had wanted to stay overnight with her, but she was embarrassed to take him to bed in her father’s home, so they went to a motel, and afterwards, he left to drive home to San Diego. If she’d only let him stay the night he’d be with her now.

  Voices woke her and she was surprised that she’d dozed off. Although yesterday’s events had been exhausting she’d slept very little that first night. A large group of people was coming down the central aisle toward her. The woman whose voice she’d heard, a large, jovial woman about fifty years old, was gesturing at various areas and explaining their function to the others. Chris didn’t remember having seeing her before. She stood and stepped out of the shadow.

  “Oh, you startled me!” said the woman. “Where did you come from?”

  “I’m sorry,” Chris said, “I came to explore and fell asleep on the lawn. May I join your tour? I’m Chris Hargraves.”

  “Oh, Miss Hargraves, I’m so glad you’re here. This entire area will be under your direction. I’m Kate Barkley, one of the members of your father’s permanent staff, although, now I guess, you all are too.” She giggled and extended her hand to Chris. “I’m the dietician, farmer, cook, and chief bottle washer.” She giggled again.

  Chris was surprised to hear she was in charge, even though this was her area of expertise. Surely there were other people more qualified than she to be in charge of food production. She decided to wait and ask her father about it when she could chase him down. Others in the group were introducing themselves to her and she fell in with Kate Barkley’s entourage.

  August 22, 10:15 a.m.

  “Hey James, any information on the bomb blast or earthquake or whatever the hell it was?” Mark entered the tower and found a man he didn’t know sitting at the computer, a small, maybe five-nine, black man wearing glasses. “Oops, hi, I’m Mark. Where’s James?” He glanced around and nodded at Micah who was at one of the other computers.

  “Hi. Mark Teller? Will has told me a lot about you. I’m Darryl Washington. I’m one of the permanent staff members. James went off to spend some time calming his w
ife down. She’s still pretty hysterical.” He stuck his hand out and Mark shook it.

  “Does Will know you’re here? He was very concerned that you wouldn’t get back.” Mark sat at the console next to Darryl.

  “Yes, I called him. We arrived around midnight. Fortunately, for me, we went north to Colorado Springs rather than to Albuquerque. We brought back a truckload of supplies. Bobby and I had to winch a tree out of the way to get the truck to the entrance cave, otherwise I would have been here a lot sooner.”

  Micah entered the room and came over to look at the computer printouts. He had apparently already met Darryl.

  Darryl pecked at the keyboard and brought up some data on the monitor directly in front of him. “The blast? Let’s take a look.”

  “Wow, Los Alamos is definitely history.” Micah said.

  Darryl hit a few more keys and explained the readout to Mark, “Yesterday’s blasts took out Albuquerque with one warhead - actually the targets were probably Kirtland Air Force Base and Sandia National Lab; Alamagordo and White Sands with a second warhead, and the third apparently targeted Roswell. I’m not sure why, unless the Chinese believe all that crap about flying saucers. Actually, I think it may have been targeted for Los Alamos and something went wrong with its guidance. I thought Los Alamos had been spared. That would have been good for us, because, if that were the case, the closest blast would then have been over one hundred fifty miles away.

  “We’re lucky, though, because today’s blast was off target as well and seems to have hit a bit south of Los Alamos. Fortunately for us, it’s more lousy targeting by the bad guys. Sensors put it about halfway between Albuquerque and us. Also, it was only about a five-megaton bomb, which is fairly small compared to the other Chinese super bombs. We will definitely get the radiation effects but it probably didn’t do much damage to the surrounding countryside in this area.” He frowned and leaned closer to the screen as the readouts changed. “This is weird. The blast was smaller but it is creating a tremendous amount of radiation. What’s up with that?”