by ML Banner
He paused, looking up to his left leg, which was the part of his body, in addition to his left arm, which were totally burned and broken, but now mostly healed. Both arm and leg tingled together, an endless chorus of painful noise sung loudly from each. More painful was the knowledge that his father was the one paying for his treatments. The physical and emotional pain was until today, held back by the Laudanum. He no longer wanted to cloud his thinking with Laudanum, so ignoring their clarion call of pain, he turned his back to them and continued his thoughts:
Destiny has a funny way changing one’s course. Only yesterday, I learned I was in the same bed as the lunger who told me his story in my hometown of Lawrence and the tip that would lead me to gold. Because of his TB, he sought medical aid from this sanatorium, one that received worldly acclaim.
Betty, a beautiful angel, working as an attendant, nursed me back to health over these many months on a daily course of the sundry tales and life stories of the sanatoriums’ patients. Her stories and the unspoken love which has welled up in me, suppressed until yesterday, by the fear I would never possess the will to express my feelings for her. Then I learned the truth about my painful calling.
After returning from my regular walk, exorcising the demons of agony possessing my leg, Betty told me of one patient in particular. He was in the later stages of TB, she said tearfully. In one of his bouts of delirium, he said that he had struck it rich, uncovering the gold find of the century. All he had to do was get back to Kansas City to get help and lay claim to his find. She feared that he never made it back. I don’t know why, but I never let on that I was bound to this same man and my yet unfilled posthumous promise to him that I would make sure he was buried at his home and that I alone possessed his most cherished secret.
One cannot claim this as luck, any more than one can claim a new sunrise or sunset as accident. After all, what are the chances of one randomly finding a stranger with a secret that will change his life, then surviving the oddest of events I dare say witnessed by man, and then falling in love with your attendant, and waking up in the same bed as that stranger? Pondering such wonders makes my head hurt. The how, perhaps I will never be known, but the why is certain. It is still my destiny and purpose to find this gold and then propose to the woman I love. I will not be dissuaded from both my missions.”
He closed the book, and then secured it in a leather hide, folding each corner carefully, finally securing the hide to the book with a long leather strip, which was tied around its width and length.
~~~
Betty was looking forward to seeing Russell. He was nothing to look at, and was a little bit of a dreamer, but something had changed since yesterday. It was as if he had awoken from a dream and he was alive again. She was excited to see what he was like today. All night, until she arrived for her shift, she was filled with happiness. She could not wait to see him, and she hoped he felt the same.
She spent extra time getting her makeup just right, adding an extra measure of red to her lips, and color to her checks. She brushed her thick black hair more often than normal. She pressed her uniform, making it look crisp and nearly new. She wanted to look perfect for Russell, and hoped and prayed he would notice.
After visiting Mr. Jenkins, she entered Russell’s room. He wasn’t there. His bed, the second of eight, separated by curtains, was turned down and his belongings looked gone as well. She walked up and saw there was a letter on his pillow. It had her first name on it. She opened it up and read:
Dearest Betty,
You have saved me not only from my physical ailments but also from those much more disabling in my mind. I have a new sense of purpose that I have never felt. I have also fallen in love with you. I know that I will not be able to ask you for your hand until I have made something of myself. So, I will take leave for a short while. Know this, my love, although I am leaving you now, I promise to return for you. I can only hope that you feel for me the same love I feel for you. If, however, you do not, I am still joyous that you have given me so much to hope for. I pray that that day when I am able return to you will come swiftly.
Until then, I remain ever yours,
Russell J. Thompson III
43.
Revelation
“A Long Time Ago…”
Gord had tried to walk only during the night, something they were all taught, avoiding the daylight and its ruinous light. However, the journey was so long and he feared he would never reach his destination. He kept his walking during daylight to a minimum, knowing the risks, and really only started in the last lunar cycle. He made up much more territory when he found the ancient trails made by previous masses of people. Some of these trails were huge, at least thirty arm lengths, and it appeared that many of the trees were removed to make traveling easier. Oddly, a small channel separated some of the widest spans, as if a mighty river, which had since dried up, once parted the middle of these clearings. He would have enjoyed seeing what these trails looked like when they were built and maybe even their builders.
Every so often, one of these spans would be blocked by an odd arrangement of large grey boulders, some standing tall like monumental trees of gray smooth rock. Often, these rocky arrangements were impassible and required that he find a path around them. When he came upon them, he couldn’t help but see some design to them as if the loose arrangement of gray boulders were actually used for something he would never come to know. Occasionally, Gord would run across some sort of warning, obviously posted by a tribe many moons ago, as there sometimes appeared to be writing on a flat surface that had long since been removed by the harsh elements.
He was covering a lot of ground right now and felt as if he was very close. Perhaps in a couple of days, but not much longer, he would find what he was looking for: a place called Cicada.
~~~
He lost track of the days. So many days were the same: waking up, walking many trails, avoiding capture or death by the few other tribes, or the occasional wanderer who was desperate and not part of a tribe. Always seeming to get closer to Cicada, but never getting close enough. He was tired and frustrated, but still hopeful.
Gord stopped for a moment of rest, and a drink of water. The end of his waterskin, a new one he made only a few suns ago, was cool to his parched lips, cracked from the sun. He drank eagerly of the life giving liquid, careful not to drink too fast. Wiping the wetness from his hair covered face, he noticed the dirt from the path caked his hands and no doubt his face, as well. Looking down, he saw that his feet, wrapped in freshly cut skins, were also a grey-black color that matched the path beneath his feet. His legs were a matted mess of hair and dirt, all the same color. A nodule on his knee seeping blood and puss, where he fell shortly after sunrise, had run down his right leg adding the only color to his person. Finishing the inspection, he examined his waist, then chest and then back out to his arms. He imagined he was a pretty scary looking figure right now. He smiled a smile he couldn’t see.
He took in another swallow of water and only realized then, something had changed. The air was different here. Normally, it was dusty, like it was now and sometimes he would smell an animal or the unending yellowish-grey trees around him, but rarely did he smell anything else. Where he stood now, a new scent assaulted his senses, full of death and decay. He was close to people.
Immediately, his mind was on alert and he knelt down, making himself smaller and less visible. This was something his father taught him when he hunted or when he was being hunted. Gord searched all around him to make sure no one was watching. He seemed to be the only one on a long hill, maybe 200 arm spans high, above a long valley.
Looking forward, the three pointed mountain top he had been walking to for countless days was prominent overhead. These final steps had been aided by a flat surface on which he could easily walk. Again, another passageway used by masses of people.
He stood up for a moment. In the distance, not far, but just far enough he couldn’t clearly see, was some object in the middle o
f the path that looked like a large marker. Beyond the marker was barrier twice his height, and above this was, something he couldn’t explain. The sky above the barrier seemed to reflect some of the sunlight back to him. This made no sense, as there was nothing in the sky to cause this reflection. He started walking towards this marker, first slowly, attempting to soften the noise of each footfall, so as to not alert another. As the distance between him and the object shrank, his pace quickened, as there was now an excitement in his step. It felt familiar, as if he had seen what was becoming clearer. The marker was like a large pile of stones, but smoother than normal and almost silver in color. Inset was a large white flat surface that reflected the blinding light of the afternoon’s sun right back at him. He squinted and held his hand in front of his face, failing to blunt the harshness of the light that mugged his vision, unable to see yet what lay upon it.
The crunch – crunch – crunch of his footfalls were almost at a running pace. Abruptly, he stopped. Rearing up, he stared at the marker, which now stood before him. The cloud of dust, churned up and trailing his swift passage, had now caught up and dispersed past where he stood.
He was motionless for a long breath, taking in what was now plainly visible. The marker was definitely older than he was. It must have been made by one of the great technology tribes his father’s father Stepha told him about; the examples of their existence he had witnessed many times during his long pilgrimage. The marker was as tall as he was and appeared to be made of a smooth reflective surface. He remembered it being called, “metal.” Taking up almost half of the surface was a perfectly square placard, of thin reflective material and a white finish, permanently mounted to the marker.
It had fancy writing on it with a drawing in the lower middle portion of the placard. Over the writing and the drawing, someone else had roughly written something else, presumable later. It said:
The drawing was very familiar to him. When he was standing in front of it, he knew exactly where this image came from.
Gord removed a large cloth sling from his back, which contained all of his belongings. Placing it on the ground beside him, he pulled out a rectangular object and placed it in front of his feet, between the marker and him. He carefully untied a strap that bound the object. Then he unfolded the flaps of leather protecting the prized possession within. He picked up what was inside, what people before him called “a book.” Gord believed it was one of the only books left in all the lands.
He opened the cover. On the first page was written:
“The Adventures of Russell P. Thompson III”
On the third page was the drawing he remembered all too well. He held the book and its drawing up to compare it to the image on the marker. It was the same.
He had found Cicada. He had reached his destination.
Before he could focus on his next step, an emaciated man, wearing dirty rags for clothes, stepped quietly behind Gord. Raising a large tree branch, he hit Gord on the back of the head, knocking him unconscious.
Find out what happens next…
Will Darla and Steve find each other again?
Will the King family reunite?
Will Max get free?
Just what is Cicada?
How do the three stories from three different time periods connect?
Who will survive…
STONE AGE - New Realities
Coming 2014
Go to http://StoneAgeSeries.com/book2
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Thanks and Acknowledgments
To my wife, Lisa – Thank you for your strong encouragement, your creative flair, your support of my passion for writing, and your never ending love; to my mother, Susan Banner – Thank you for your editing skills, ideas, and desire to help make this story the best it can be; to my friend, Patrick Carson for your review, our discussions, and telling me to take my time; and, Dr. Jeffry Jahn, for your support & constant friendship.
Table of Contents
September 2nd, 1859
“A Time Long ago…”
BULLETIN for 25 June
1. The Kings
2. Steve Parkington
3. International Space Station
4. Dr. Carrington Reid
5. Miguel
6. Arrival
BULLETIN for 26 June
7. Secrets Revealed
8. Sally
9. Wilber
9. Stocking Up
10. El Gordo
BULLETIN for 27 June
11. Onboard ISS
12. More Prepping
13. Darla
14. Prime Numbers
15. Fireworks
16. Worrying
17. Prying Eyes
18. The Party
19. Dr. Reid
BULLETIN for 28 June
20. Putting it all Together
21. Coffee
22. The Teacher
23. Quiet Before the Storm
24. Miracles
25. Preflight
26. Prelude to Armageddon
27. The Foretelling
28. More Bad News
A few miles away
29. Fear of Flying
Rocky Point, Mexico
O’Hare Airport
30. ISS Dead to the World
31. The Kill Order
32. Over Middle Illinois
Over Texas
33. Hell Breaks Loose
Monroe Michigan
Clear Lake, Michigan
34. Death is Coming
35. Fighting for your Family
36. Airport Parking
37. Wright Ranch
38. Crashing to Earth
39. The Letter
40. CMERI
41. Powerless
42. July 5th, 1860
43. Revelation
Find out what happens next…
Thanks and Acknowledgments
Table of Contents
Epilogue – A few words to my readers
Want more about ML Banner or Stone Age?
Epilogue
A few words to my readers…
THE REAL STORY ABOUT CMEs
Stone Age presupposes what might happen if a series of massive, cascading CMEs or coronal mass ejections were to hit the Earth. How realistic is the story? Does science actually back up the plausibility of a large CME, and if so, is it possible that one large enough could destroy our technology and with it, our society?
Here is the really scary part, this very thing already happened in 1859. Yes, that 1859. The story of Russell Thompson was fictional, but the bombardment by two CMEs of our Earth was completely true. Miners in Colorado really started preparing their breakfast around 2 in the morning, believing the sun was rising. People in Cuba thought their sky was on fire due to the magenta hues of auroras not seen that far south. Compasses worldwide ceased functioning. U.S. and European telegraph lines were down for weeks and some people were even electrocuted and fires spawned from the electrical discharges caused by the CMEs.
Fluctuations in the sun’s magnetic field trigger a portion of the sun’s surface to expand rapidly, causing the ejection of particles into space. Most of these particles do not reach Earth, the few that do harmlessly interact and bounce off the Earth’s magnetic field. Northern and Southern Lights offer testimony to t
he constant offensive of these particles. Very large CMEs, on the other hand, release billions of tons of particles, and when they hit, they disrupt and penetrate Earth’s protective magnetic shield, called the magnetosphere. Because magnetic waves can induce electricity, it follows that massive CMEs, like those occurring in 1859, would induce large amounts of electrical current in any conductor on Earth.
What would happen then if solar super storms like those 150 years ago were to occur today? Our nation’s power grids, already operating at or near capacity, are very vulnerable and would be easily overloaded by a large CME. A 2007 Solar Storm Threat Analysis report estimated that due to the lack of shielding protection, 250 million power line transformers and 6000 major transformers would be destroyed by a major CME, similar to the one already seen in 1859. All our power grids are networked, and would go down for a long time. Conceivably, it would take decades to rebuild. Consider what it would be like if just the city of New York lost all power for 10 years. The chaos and ensuing death would be unimaginable. Well, I’m sure you can better imagine it now.
The news gets worse. Now imagine all solid-state electronic circuitry in computers, phones, appliances, cars, etc. Those not protected, which is almost everything, would be destroyed by the massive electrical currents created by a large enough CME. The Internet would be gone, along with all our massive worldwide knowledgebase stored on electromagnetically sensitive hard drives. All of this together would cause the machinery of our economy and society to stop completely: all manufacturing, supply lines, transportation, communication, everything. Delivery of our most elemental necessities, such as food, water, and medicine would be permanently disrupted.
