"Two hundred and seventy sheets? Your last order was for two," she said, curiously.
"Two-Seventy. Two seven zero. 270 sheets. And I need it here tomorrow. Also, go out and buy up every steel-fitter and yard worker you can find. I’ll need tools and outfitting for at least thirty welders."
"And where shall we put all this?" she asked, as if to remind him of their chronic shortage of space.
"Call Yuswin back and buy his boatyard for whatever he’s asking," Legend replied impatiently.
"But last time he called and made an offer - let me see if I remember - you called him a ‘thieving, crooked communist chink ass’."
"Well, call him back and tell him I was drunk and I’m sorry. Tell him I was on drugs. Tell him I was smoking peyote. Hell Sam, I don't care what you tell him. I need that boatyard yesterday."
"Big project, boss?" she asked politely.
"Bigger than you can imagine. And when he agrees to sell it, offer him a fifty percent bonus on the selling price to vacate the premises today, and I mean today. Then hire a bulldozer and push all the boats in the yard up against the fence in a big pile to open up the center of the yard. And hire me two, seventy ton cranes. I'm gonna need all this today, Sam, today. Call over to Bravo Petroleum and order up a barge full of gasoline. Have it delivered to the boatyard today.
"We received a shipment of nine bikes from the states yesterday. They’re at the pier. I need them picked up as quickly as you can get over there. And go over to Sam Wonder's market and buy it. Pay him whatever he wants for it. I need it today. Then move his entire inventory of crated foods over here as quickly as you can.
"Don't open the shop today. Put an ‘OUT OF BUSINESS - PERMANENTLY - MOVED TO USA ’ sign on the front door. Take down the Harley Dealership signs and hide them. Paper over every square centimeter of glass with brown paper. Today, Sam, today. I need this all today."
"Boss, I don't think I can do all this in one day," she said with lowered eyes.
"Sam, I need this today," he said with uncharacteristic gentleness.
Sam's eyes betrayed surprise.
"Are you on drugs, boss?" she asked half sincerely.
Legend sighed deeply. "No, I’m not," he replied, looking through the window of his dealership at the red morning sun rising over the harbor. He swallowed hard. "No, Sam, I’m not on drugs. But I wish I was."
11
Aaron Seven, you are to depart and take command of Pacifica in two days," Desmond said bluntly and unexpectedly.
Seven had barely had time to review the most basic plan of the underwater community and felt wholly ill-equipped to take command of the complex sub-sea base. And, in his deepest heart, he felt totally unprepared to leave Serea behind, probably forever.
Seven, Serea and the Commander had been called into a private conference with Desmond. They all sat before Desmond's desk in three side by side chairs. To Seven, Desmond had seemed to visibly age in the days that had passed since they had first entered the great underground shelter. It was obvious that he was operating on a serious sleep deficiency, and the pressure was crushing.
Seven broke his concentration and stole a look at Serea out of the corner of his eye. She did not return it. They had discussed this moment beforehand and both knew it was coming, although not this soon. Serea knew that she would remain behind serving her father and that any other consideration was not even up for discussion. What neither Seven nor Serea had counted on was falling in love.
Desmond looked at both of them in silence, as if waiting for Seven's reaction. His eyes turned to his daughter, who was staring blankly beyond him at the wall. "And, my dearest Serea, you are to accompany Seven to Pacifica . He will require your services there. You are to serve alongside him with the same dedication you have served alongside me," Desmond said unexpectedly.
Her eyes widened in total surprise. "Father, I can't leave you, you know that," she replied with a gasp. "How can you expect me to leave you here? There’s no one else..."
"Serea, be silent for a moment, please," he replied calmly. "Do you take me for a fool? I see that your professional relationship with Dr. Seven has much more, shall I say, depth, than anyone expected. After much contemplative thought, I decided it could be used to everyone's greatest advantage not to separate what has become a very positive and productive force. Joseph, you will remain with me here at Middlearth. But until they depart, you are assigned to help them make the transition. You are to serve Dr. Seven as you have served me."
"Father!" Serea protested. "We’re all a team - together. We’ve always been your team. You can't just dismiss us! It won't work! It can't work!"
The Commander turned and looked at Seven with a hard and unflinching stare from behind his dark glasses and said nothing.
"As for you Aaron, you are to care for and protect Serea as if she were your own flesh. And speaking of family, as I agreed, your extended family will arrive here this afternoon and they will accompany you there as well." Desmond looked old and very tired as he stood, signaling to everyone that the meeting was over.
"Father, I’m sorry, but I just can’t leave you here," Serea said with tears streaming down her face.
"I’ll leave you alone to discuss this in private," Seven offered, rising.
"No, Aaron, stay. There is no discussion," Desmond responded, walking around the desk to his seated daughter and placing his hand on her shoulder.
With tear stained eyes, Serea looked back to Seven and the Commander. "Leave us, please," she demanded.
Seven looked at the Commander, turned and kissed Serea gently on the forehead, then looked to Desmond. "Raylond, the world outside has collapsed into chaos," he said gently. "It’s because when all is said and done, everyone wants to live, they want to save themselves and the ones they love. All the things they once did for money and career don’t matter any more. I can see that this decision on your part is one that’s becoming exceedingly rare on this planet: the giving of what is most important to yourself for the good of someone else. While I don’t know what decision you and Serea will arrive at, let me tell you that I’ll follow your leadership and accept it, for the good of all."
With that, Seven turned and left the room, followed by the Commander. Outside the conference room, they stood against opposite walls, eyeing one another - not with male angst, but with curiosity, each waiting for the other to speak.
Finally Seven spoke, looking directly at Blake. "I expect no one to serve me," he said bluntly.
The Commander looked momentarily uncomfortable, and then replied, "I’m not a man of many words, but I appreciate that. On the other hand, I take orders from Dr. Desmond, and he‘s ordered me to serve you as I served him, and that I shall do."
Seven laughed lightly and politely. "Joseph - if I may call you that - Joseph, I have no need for a man servant, thank-you. And I’d like to suggest a compromise."
The Commander returned his stare and said nothing.
"Let’s just be friends," Seven suggested with an outstretched hand. "You’re free!"
The Commander looked back at him through his dark sunglasses for a long and uncomfortable moment, then reached out and accepted the handshake. He smiled slightly and replied, "I was never more free than when I served Dr. Desmond willingly. Therefore, I’ll accept your friendship and will willingly serve you as my friend."
Seven was overwhelmed with the incredible wisdom and inner strength of the Commander. "Awesome, just awesome!" he replied accepting the huge man's handshake with true admiration. "We’re gonna make one hell of a team, Commander. One hell of a team – at least for a few days!"
gh
The 17 children from the Florida Children's home and their two guardians arrived via a huge Boeing Chinook at the helicopter pad outside Middlearth's external entranceway. The private army which had been trained to prevent the shelter from being overrun stood by to protect the children and the hundreds of others now streaming in to Middlearth for permanent residence. The news of the end of the world a
nd the subsequent near instant collapse of social services along with the President’s declaration of Martial Law, which effectively suspended the Constitution, inadvertently prevented a widespread knowledge of the location of the shelters, so the threat thus far was minimal.
Seven and the Commander stood outside the open-air helo terminal as the chopper touched gently down. After the dust settled, the huge hydraulic rear door opened. There were a total of seventy-eight passengers on the helicopter and the children streamed out last in an orderly line. Seven walked briskly out amid the thunder of the helicopter's engines and swirling dust and met the two leading guardians who led the children.
"Mother! Dad!" he said and embraced both of them together at once.
Bark and Lacey Skillshakle had been the resident parents at the home for over forty years and had collectively been the parents for over six hundred children, including Seven. Bark and Lacey were both in their mid-sixties, and although grayed and weathered, both were also healthy, trim and wore that look of deep, lasting peace that only a life of contentment can indelibly trace on one's countenance.
"Aaron! My dear Aaron!" Lacey replied with a wide smile, returning his hug. "It’s so good to see you! We’ve been praying for you each and every day." Lacey Skillshakle was a diminutive woman, the top of her head falling well below Seven's chin. Her salt and pepper hair was pulled tightly back and tied in a neat bundle behind her head. Her face wore a set of deep wrinkles that traced a life of laughter in the Florida sun.
"Aaron, what’ve you gotten yourself into now?" asked Bark, looking about in wonder.
Seven laughed and replied, somewhat embarrassed, "Well, Dad, it isn't quite like the last great misadventure,” referring to the jail where Bark and Lacey had faithfully visited him in Florida .
A father to the very core of his being, Bark Skillshakle was nearly as short in stature as his wife, but he was built like a fireplug. His body was stocky, squat, did not have much of a neck, and there was no fat anywhere. His arms and legs were muscular, his hair now almost totally missing except for a trim, grey beard that stretched from ear to ear. Had he worn a monk's robe, he would have appeared to have been in uniform. Skillshakle was the textbook father: he loved, he hugged and he spanked in an unbroken fluidity of seamless motion. But through each action and word he left a single impression - a pure, sincere and unbroken unconditional love.
Seven eyed the tidy and disciplined line of 17 children behind them. They were of all ages from five to 17 and from a variety of races and sexes - Caucasian, African American, Oriental and Hispanic. Each held their own small bag of personal belongings and the smaller children held their stuffed animals. Seven considered each of them his little brothers and sisters.
Seven walked up to one small girl who looked to be about six with wide, thick-rimmed, round spectacles who was clutching a stuffed bear tightly. He knelt beside her in the thundering racket of the helicopter's still roaring turbine engines.
"Meghan, I'm so happy to see you again," he said sincerely and kissed her on the forehead. She wrapped her arms around his neck without hesitation.
Aaron, I'm scared," she whispered into his ear.
Seven swept her up in his arms and hugged her tightly as he stood. "No need to be, Meghan, you’re safe here," he said reassuringly. Seven felt a hand on his shoulder and was surprised to see Serea with Desmond and the Commander standing beside him.
"What’s your name?" Serea sweetly asked the little girl.
"Meghan," the child replied sheepishly, clinging to Seven.
"Meghan, may I please hold you?" Serea inquired.
Meghan looked with uncertainly at Seven who almost imperceptibly nodded, then simply held her arms out to Serea who accepted her readily. Serea looked at Meghan and said, "You’re safe here now, Meghan."
Meghan buried her face in Serea's neck and clung tightly to her. Serea looked back to Seven with unexpected wonder in her eyes, as though she had not anticipated this powerful moment.
"I presume you’re Bark and Lacey Skillshakle," Desmond said, extending his hand to Bark.
"I’m sorry,” Seven replied, stepping over to them. "Dr. Desmond, Serea, Joseph - these are my parents: Bark and Lacey. Dad, Mom, this is my boss, Dr. Raylond Desmond and this is my, er, friend and co-conspirator, Joseph Blake, whom we call the Commander. And this – this…" he stumbled in a split second of awkwardness, "this is Serea."
"Pleased to finally meet you," Bark said politely.
"Aaron has spoken of you often over the years, Dr. Desmond," Lacey said with a smile. “We’ve always appreciated everything that you’ve done for him.”
"I specifically came out here to greet you so I could let you know one thing about your son," Desmond said bluntly.
"Yes?" Bark replied waiting.
"He is probably the most important man alive on earth," Desmond stated. "He alone has saved mankind from extinction."
Lacey Skillshakle's face beamed as only a mother’s can. "We knew he was special," she replied. "But then, they’re all special to us."
"And you’ve been the mother to how many children?" Serea asked.
"612, including these," she replied proudly. "But I never consider myself as 'having been' the mother. I AM the mother and always will be, no matter how old they get - or where they end up," she responded, looking at Seven who rolled his eyes in acknowledgement of her motherly rebuke.
"We’re so proud of you, son," Bark said with true admiration in his eyes, looking back at Seven.
"And you should be," Desmond responded. "We are truly grateful that you accepted our invitation to join us here and to soon travel with Aaron to his new assignment in the Pacific."
"Well, it’s a fine invitation that we so very much appreciate, Dr. Desmond, but we'll all be going home shortly, just as soon as this thing blows over," Lacey replied confidently.
Seven looked to Bark who returned a fatherly gaze of patient forbearance.
An hour later, the excited children were being settled into their rooms by Lacey. Seven, Bark, the Commander, and Serea sat together in the huge, but empty, main conference room, Case Study A.
Bart Skillshakle looked tired and shaken. His face was lined with tension like Seven had never before seen. He asked somberly, "Tell me something, son. When is this going to blow over? What’s it going to be like?"
"There’s no way to judge when it’ll end," Seven responded with a sigh. "Since many of the effects are caused by events that are beyond our current level of understanding, there’s no way to know. The event could last for hours, days, years or thousands of years. As far as effects, there are two kinds: primary and secondary. The primary effects of this storm are from direct radiation. All unshielded life will die, from single cell microorganisms to humans."
"What do you mean when you say ‘unshielded life’?" Skillshakle queried.
"I mean any life form that’s not protected from the direct radiation of sunlight. That shield must be at least 80 feet of earth or 100 feet of seawater, minimally."
"So that if one is shielded during the day, they can safely come out at night after the sun has set?" Skillshakle asked.
"Yes, exactly."
"So, anyone who hides out during the daytime is going to make it, provided their shelter is good enough?"
"That question depends on the secondary effects," Seven responded. "Remember that ALL unshielded life exposed to solar radiation will die. That includes all animal life, plant life and microorganisms. That means the life support system provided by the plants will be destroyed. As soon as it begins, within the first forty eight hours, a majority of the photosynthetic oxygen production mechanisms of the planet will be destroyed, including the most prolific oxygen machine on the planet - the top layers of ocean phytoplankton. It’s assumed that chemical decomposition will begin immediately using up planetary stores of oxygen and producing carbon dioxide. There’s no way to determine when this’ll happen or how long it’ll take, but without photosynthesis, the air will eventually b
ecome unbreathable."
"And there are the secondary effects of energy loading," Serea added. "Because the solar environment is pumping in unprecedented levels of high energy radiation, there will doubtlessly be other high energy effects in all bands of the spectrum, including infrared. In others words, we’re likely to experience atmospheric heating to some level. If severe enough, it could render whole regions or latitude bands uninhabitable. If even a few degrees, it will melt the polar ice caps and produce violent storms like we have never witnessed or recorded in all of human history. At first the sea levels will rise due to the polar ice cap and global glacier melts. But, if the temperature rises high enough, the sea water will evaporate, a cloud will form that will cover the earth and trap even more heat, and eventually turn the planet into a hell worse than Venus."
"My God! I had no idea," Skillshakle said solemnly. "Aaron, whatever you do, please don't share this with your mother. Let me tell her in my own way."
"Of course, Dad," Seven responded. "Our hope is that the storms will be relatively short lived, that there will be pockets of survivors that make it out, and that the planet retains its capacity to begin its life support system anew."
"Is that even possible?" Skillshakle asked, his face ashen.
"We believe that it may be, depending on how long the storm lasts.”
"How can anyone survive it at all?"
"By staying underground by day and venturing out only after sunset," Seven responded. "Some will venture out by day and feel nothing at first, but they’ll soon die of cumulative radiation effects. If someone is shielded underneath the earth, or by the greater shielding effects of being underneath steel, concrete or large buildings, they may not be affected. If they can get drinkable water and enough food, they could survive with no ill effects at all, so long as they don’t run into secondary effects such as tornados or hurricanes, or run out of oxygen.
"Exposure to direct sunlight will kill humans in less than an hour. People who remain inside standard built frame homes, or even inside large buildings, during the day will make it only about a week or two before they die, but they will die."
Quantum Storms - Aaron Seven Page 8
