Solar Storm (Season 1): Aftermath [Episodes 1-5]

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Solar Storm (Season 1): Aftermath [Episodes 1-5] Page 6

by Marcus Richardson


  Leah waited until Erin looked up from the phone. She pointed a pencil in the air. "Solar flare."

  "So it knocked out cell phones and satellites, huh?"

  "Yeah, it looks that way. We might have more problems than that in the next couple of days if—"

  "You got that right—if people can't get on Facebook there’s going to be a revolution!”

  “Well,” sighed Leah, “that and it’ll probably screw up things for school next week.”

  “That's all the reason I need to go to the party then,” Erin said with a smile as she jumped off the bed. She padded her bare feet across the floor and grabbed Leah’s arm, trying to pull her up from the desk.

  “Hey, cut it out!”

  Erin let go and stepped back in a huff. "It's Friday night for God's sake, Leah. Why are you trying to study? We got four years to study! You only get to be a freshman once!"

  "Three and half years,” Leah corrected, “Christmas Break marks the halfway point—”

  “Oh my God you are such a nerd,” Erin broke in, her eyes round in shock.

  “And I'm studying,” Leah said pointedly, “because I only want to be a freshman once."

  Erin put her hands on her hips. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  Leah shook her head. She supposed if her major was 'communications' she’d be less worried about homework too. Especially when worldwide communications broke down.

  "I'm sorry, I'm just a little frustrated trying to get all this done for my astrophysics—"

  "It's Friday night!” Erin said, throwing her arms wide. ”Don’t worry so much. In fact, I think you need to drink a little more. Brett’s having a party over at Sigma House tonight and I got invited. But I can't go by myself—you know those guys are animals—so you need to come with me."

  "Me?" asked Leah. "If they're animals why do you even want to go?”

  “Because they're animals. Now don't be obese—”

  “Obtuse. And I’m not exactly the partying kind of girl,” Leah pleaded. “I don't even like the taste of beer."

  "Then don't drink any. Have a soda—I don't care. I need to get out of here and Brett’s going to be there."

  Leah rolled her eyes but couldn't help her smile. "Now I get it."

  "Look,” Erin said, her famous pout in place as she waggled a finger at Leah. “I've been looking forward to this since yesterday when he invited me, so don't you dare ruin this for me!”

  “Sorry…”

  “So can you please come with? Please?”

  Leah sighed. “Erin…”

  “Please-please-please?" She clasped her hands in front of her like a penitent pilgrim. “I'll beg if I have to…”

  Leah looked from her open physics book back to the TV which flickered with static.

  “—hackers have shut down dozens of major websites—” gurgled through the white noise. Leah would have loved to hear what else was going on out there but Erin moved to block her view and the TV went back to static, anyway. Leah sighed.

  "Yes!" said Erin. She put her hands out to keep Leah from rising out of her chair. "No, wait—stay right there. I've got the perfect outfit for you."

  Leah looked down and plucked at the red UI sweat pants and T-shirt. "Outfit?"

  Erin gave her a sour look which softened into a smile reserved for good-looking boys who didn't know they were doing something stupid.

  "You're so cute. I’ll be right back—I need to go borrow something slutty from Gloria."

  Leah sighed again as the door to their room slammed shut. She turned back to her physics book. Erin might be gone five minutes or two hours. At least she'd have a little peace and quiet in the meantime.

  Leah's eyes flicked between her physics homework and her cell phone sitting on the desk. The bars at the top of the phone alternated between two and four and now and then blinked no signal. She hadn’t been able to reach her dad since talking to Kate, but she hoped the text messages she sent had at least gone through.

  Leah gave up. She opened her gold MacBook, covered in Space Shuttle mission patch stickers, and navigated to the Space Weather Prediction Center’s homepage. What should have been a screen filled with warnings and updates about the current solar flare event was nothing but a blank screen with some strange octagon symbol.

  “This website is now under our control. We are The Proletariat. Fake News will no longer be tolerated. Power will be returned to the people,” she read out loud. A frown creased Leah's forehead. “What the hell is this shit?”

  “Since when does NOAA put out fake news?” Grumbling to herself about hackers living in their parents’ basements, she clicked over to CNN. The same screen was displayed.

  “Well, at least they’re consistent. Busy little jerks, aren’t you?”

  FOX, CNBC, and the other major news outlets were all similarly hacked. She frowned. Facebook and the other social media giants were still down as well, their home pages replaced with notices about lack of access due to the solar flare interrupting signals or something. If any news source was still broadcasting outside of television and radio, they were shut down or offline.

  “If it’s all that bad, then how come I can still go to Amazon?” she muttered, checking the giant retailer’s website. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

  The TV chirped in a moment of clarity and she turned to face the screen. "NASA officials announced moments ago—in an admitted attempt to beat the ESA announcement expected later this afternoon—that a significant coronal mass ejection was detected emanating from the surface of the sun earlier this morning. However, they are not prepared…” static filled the screen as Leah waited, tapping her foot.

  “…or what possible impacts it might have, saying only that it is too soon to tell…”

  “Oh come on,” she complained. “You’re NASA for cryin’ out loud, you guys know. You’re the smartest people on the planet—”

  “…last update before the unprecedented hacker attack severed communication with several orbiting satellites…affected by the flare…still working…reestablish contact with…"

  The satellite feed shifted back into static and the reporter’s voice died away with an electronic warble.

  “…tuned right here and we’ll be sure to get you the latest news…”

  Leah chewed her pencil. I knew it—I knew that flare wasn’t isolated. You can’t have a flare that big without an ejection. Now the question is how big and how long before it hits…and why the hell would hackers attack now of all times, when getting people information could save lives. Fucking idiots.

  She turned back to the phone and picked it up, trying to type a new text message to her dad.

  I hope you get this. If you do, make sure to watch the news! Have you heard from Kate?

  She ignored the no signal warning and tossed the useless phone on her bed as the door opened, spilling a soft glow from the hallway’s emergency lights.

  “…rest assured the Department of Homeland Security has things well in hand and will be diligent in not only restoring affected websites but bringing this Proletariat group to justice…”

  "See?" Erin smiled from the doorway. "I told you there was nothing to that silly flare. Now come on, it's party time!"

  Leah bit back her comment about why DHS need to involve itself in restoring the internet. She really wanted to talk to Mac. She leaned around the corner to see Erin walk in carrying several sets of clothes entirely too small to fit her body.

  "Oh no—” Leah protested with her hands up, all thoughts of the flare and hackers forgotten. “I am not wearing that."

  “This is gonna be awe-some,” Erin sang as she held the skimpy outfit up next to Leah. She regarded her roommate with a critical eye and smiled. “I can't wait to introduce you to Brett."

  Leah looked back at her physics book, then the laptop with the prominent hacker logo still displayed on the screen. Maybe I can find some news at one of those survivalist forums Kate always talks about—

  “Come on, let’s get
you dressed,” urged Erin.

  Leah closed her eyes and relented. “Fine.” She shut the laptop and turned around, jaw set, ready to meet her fate.

  It’s going to be a long year.

  CHAPTER 6

  KATE SETTLED INTO THE first officer's seat and snapped the four-point safety harness over her chest. Compared to her 737 daily driver, the massive Boeing 747-800I felt like flying a C-17. As a fighter pilot, she was used to cramped cockpits in fourth or fifth generation fighter planes, but the big Boeing’s flight deck was palatial in comparison.

  She turned to examine the myriad switches, dials, and buttons surrounding glowing screens, well within arm’s reach. The screens and gauges displayed every function of the aircraft's health, from fuel to oil pressure and hydraulic lines, exterior wind speeds, weight capacity, and weather.

  "First time in a ‘47?" asked the captain from the pilot's seat. He had a not unfriendly smile on his face, but it didn't reach his eyes.

  Kate nodded. "Outside of training, yes. This is my first real run."

  "You Air Force?" he asked, pulling out his preflight checklist.

  Kate did the same and called out the procedures. "Fifteen years," she answered in a break between checklist items without taking her eyes off her list.

  The pilot grunted, then said: "LAX control, Aloha 3684 ready for a shove."

  Kate reached up above her and selected several switches to confirm the auxiliary power units were fully powered. “APUs up and running," she announced.

  The captain nodded but said nothing as he continued with his own checklist.

  Kate leaned forward and kept a close eye on the monitor in the center of the cockpit showing the view from the wheel well. A small tug approached and locked onto the plane. The driver knew his business—without so much as a hint of motion, the enormous plane rolled backward.

  "Aloha 3684 you are clear to taxi."

  “Roger that LAX control,” the captain replied. “Aloha 3684 taxiing now."

  Kate increased power on engines two and three, the innermost engines on each wing, and released the brakes. “Ready for takeoff,” she announced.

  "I have the aircraft," the captain said.

  "Captain has the aircraft," Kate replied, keeping her hands off the yoke in front of her seat, but ready to assist.

  She continued running through her preflight checklist as the captain drove them down the tarmac to the assigned runway. As the huge plane approached its takeoff location in line, Kate ignored the lights and activity outside the cockpit, making sure she completed each additional element of the safety checks satisfactorily.

  By the time the captain spun the nose around, Kate was ready. "All checklists complete, we're good to go."

  The pilot nodded. "LAX ground control, Aloha 3684 requesting clearance for takeoff."

  The clearance returned over their headsets, followed by a painfully loud burst of static.

  Kate looked at the captain. "LAX control, this is Aloha 3684, repeat last?"

  "Sorry about that, 3684, we’re still having intermittent issues with comms. You are clear for takeoff on runway two."

  "Copy, thanks." The captain reached down and grabbed two of the throttle sticks on his side of the center console. Kate did the same for her side.

  "Nice and easy," he advised. “Let her do the work…”

  With a synchronicity that belied the fact they'd never met, Kate and the pilot raised the throttles all four engines at the same time. The GEnx-2B turbines powered up smoothly in time with the whine that reverberated through the aircraft. The enormous plane rolled down the runway picking up speed every second.

  Kate called out the increments as they went tearing down the runway. "Fifty knots," she announced.

  "Seventy-five," she called out. “Watch that crosswind…”

  “One hundred knots,” Kate advised. "One fifty-five…"

  "Here we go," announced the captain. He pulled back on his control wheel, the nose of the airplane rose with the slightest of trembles, and Kate saw only the night sky in front of them. A brief shudder a moment later and the noise dropped—they left the ground behind and climbed into the air.

  "Gear up," ordered the pilot.

  Kate threw the appropriate switches and waited for the hydraulics to close the external belly flaps. Muffled sounds far behind and below them announced the plane was now in flight mode.

  "Gear up and secured,” she reported.

  “Okay, the crosswind’s dying down—let’s have a little more throttle."

  Kate obliged and pushed all four throttles forward a notch. The plane responded and surged smoothly up through the coastal air. At the proscribed distance from the airport, the captain turned his wheel and the plane made a nice smooth bank west, soaring out over the glassy Pacific.

  A few moments later, Kate proclaimed it safe to switch to autopilot. “There’s 10,000 feet.”

  “Go ahead and hit the autopilot, if you would.”

  "Autopilot engaged," Kate said as she cycled the appropriate lever.

  The pilot pulled his hands away from the wheel but hovered over the controls for a few seconds as the plane settled in to automatic powered flight.

  "Autopilot on," he confirmed.

  Kate hit the switch alerting the flight crew they had passed through the safety threshold and were on autopilot. Through the reinforced door, she heard a muffled ding. The video monitor in the middle console displayed the image of the attendants, just outside the flight deck, unstrapping safety belts and prepping for the first drink service.

  The captain hit his radio button. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is the flight deck. Thank you for flying Aloha Airlines. We’re on a direct to Hilo, now cruising at…” he looked down at the screens in front of him. “…we’re at 30,000 feet and have some pretty smooth sailing ahead of us. So I’ll go ahead and leave the cabin lights out for those of you who want to sleep, just let your attendants know if you need anything. I'm going switch off the seatbelt sign—you are now free to move about the cabin. Thank you once again for flying Aloha.”

  Only then did Kate relax into her seat enough to feel comfortable. She scanned the glowing orange and blue dials that bathed her in a soft electronic light. Outside the pitch-black cockpit windows, the panoply of stars dazzled her eyes.

  “You have time to see the FAA briefing on that flare?”

  Kate glanced at the pilot. “You mean the alert? Yeah, I heard about it.”

  “Ever seen the northern lights?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the window.

  “Not personally, no. I’m kind of curious if we’ll see anything.”

  The pilot grunted. “I’d rather not see anything. I’ve heard they can play hell with avionics.”

  “We don't know for sure though, do we? Now, if it’s really strong…well, with those damn hackers screwing everything up, who knows? It might be too late for all those expensive satellites to warn us.”

  The pilot nodded. “Let’s hope we don’t find out then.” He tapped the center screen and checked the data. "Looks like smooth air for about three quarters of the way there.”

  Kate pointed at the display. “I agree. Until we encounter that storm front outside Hilo, we should be okay."

  “Yup.” The captain turned on a reading light and pulled out a book.

  So much for in-flight conversation, Kate thought. She dug around in her flight bag and found her cell phone. The screen lit up immediately and she decided to send her customary text to Jay. The signal strength on her phone, now connected to the aircraft’s Wi-Fi, showed everything was working fine, so she tried to send her message: Take off okay, now over the Pacific. Radio interruptions not as bad as earlier—think the worst is behind us. Will text when I land. Love you!

  She pushed send, and the phone displayed its thinking symbol for a moment before giving her an error message that the network was unavailable and it would automatically re-send the text when possible.

  Kate allowed herself to worry if she’d be del
ayed in Hawaii, depending on how bad the hackers had messed things up on the ground. Worst case scenario, polar flights would shift to more southern routes—cascading even further south depending on how long it might take to reestablish contact with NOAA's solar observatories so the SWPC could get accurate forecasts up and running again. Most of the major airlines, including Bluewing, were in lock-step with the FAA: they professed confidence the flare’s effects would diminish enough in the next 24 hours that the remaining issues from the hacker attack would have little impact on future air travel.

  If I'm lucky, I'll be back in L.A. before we find out if they’re right or not.

  CHAPTER 7

  JAY OPENED HIS EYES to a soft red glow on the bedroom ceiling. A thunderous BOOM echoed outside and his room lit up like someone had set fireworks off in the bathroom. He sat bolt upright in bed. Another explosion echoed off the houses outside, triggering someone's car alarm.

  That must have been what woke him up. He tried to clear the cobwebs from his mind when a second later, another—far more distant—BOOM sounded.

  What the hell is going on out there?

  For a moment, he thought he was still dreaming about being on the beach in Honolulu with his wife. It'd been a pleasant dream, he where he'd surprised her by catching a flight out to meet her in Hawaii for their anniversary. They were standing on the beach watching fireworks at sunset when he woke.

  He tried to ignore the fireworks and go back to sleep, but the car alarms continued to warble. He was relishing sleeping in on his first day of vacation, but he must've left the curtains open when he went to bed because the sun’s glow was too bright to sleep, even with his eyes closed.

  Jay scrunched his eyes shut tight and draped an arm across his face, but the light flickering behind his eyelids was undulating like it was alive. He groaned and opened his eyes to stare at the pinkish-red pattern of soft light on the ceiling.

  If he wasn't awake before, he certainly was now.

  Jay threw back the comforter and sheets on his bed and flopped his bare feet on the cold wood floor. The shock of temperature change brought him to a state of instant alertness.

 

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