Nearly everyone at Pacifica stopped whatever they were doing to gather around the monitors either in the public places or in the privacy of their own spaces. It was common knowledge that the nations of the world had begun to unravel as the days to the storms drew ever closer. But to carefully manage the state of affairs at Pacifica and Middlearth, it had been consciously decided that news to the colonists was to be thoughtfully controlled. Instead of feeding them non-stop, fully detailed descriptions of the self destruction of the planet, the news was filtered and carefully disseminated to lessen the psychological shock of the full extent of the disaster. But now, with scant days until the beginning of the quantum storms, Raylond Desmond was about to summarize the true state of the world.
Seven and Serea decided to watch in their apartment but invited Twink and Edgar to join them. Seven and Serea sat side by side on their love seat while Twink and Edgar sat on the floor on either side of the couch. Twink and Edgar never seemed to quite get along with one another. When they were together, there always seemed to be a kind of tension that hung between them like an impenetrable veil. Seven chalked it up to a fatal personality division but Serea offered some hope that it was merely a lack of finding the common ground that she would eventually encourage them to find.
Desmond’s face materialized on the monitor before them. As before, he appeared tired and grave. Serea’s hand gripped Seven’s tightly as she saw her father.
“This broadcast is being carried to many of the residents of the world who are now in shelters all over the planet,” Desmond began, his voice somewhat raspy and obviously worn. “I am speaking to you from our shelter located in the central United States . And it is also being heard in all our QSRT facilities as well as in Saudi Arabia, Australia, England and Israel . This broadcast is also being transmitted by commercial satellites and is probably being heard by countless other peoples and groups throughout the world. To each of you I wish peace and security as these awful days begin, even now, to unfold before us.
“In the past three months, civil unrest in every nation on earth has increased dramatically. Of course, it is due to many things – a combination of fear and a near total loss of infrastructure and security. It is my grave duty to inform you that while the quantum storms are believed to be no more than a week from commencing in earnest, most of human civilization has already disappeared from the face of the planet and many hundreds of thousands have already died. In large part, no government that we know of has control over the security, welfare or supply of essential services to their people. Over the planet as a whole, anarchy rules. Famine has already swept across the face of the earth and there is no security whatsoever outside designated shelters.
“We have attempted to contact known secure sites and government sponsored shelters in the largest world cities. As of two hours ago, less than half of them responded to our command centers. It now appears that many safe shelters across the globe have been overrun by others who wanted to secure their own survival against the coming natural holocaust. The fate of a majority of these designated shelters now remains unknown. Of course, there are also many thousands of individually and privately sponsored shelter projects. There is no way to know or judge the success of any of these. In summary, while most of humanity will be lost in the storms, it appears that a majority of the efforts to safeguard some have also been lost to an unexpected level of anarchy prior to the commencement of the disaster. And yet, we also hope that the level of success of private and individual efforts is greater than we anticipated, perhaps offsetting the degree of the disaster we can see unfolding against the more organized national efforts.”
Desmond appeared to lose his voice, perhaps even his composure. But it was only momentary, and he continued as Serea squeezed Seven’s hand tightly.
“While the extent of the nearly unimaginable calamity that has already swept the people of this planet cannot be underestimated, it is important – no – it is essential - that we highlight the encouraging aspects of our efforts as human beings in meeting this unprecedented cosmic disaster. Each one of you hearing my words should be aware of your immeasurably important part in preserving not only the human species, but also the human culture and all its fantastic diversity. I cannot overstate the importance of each one of you who hear my voice right now – whether you are in a government sponsored shelter or a private shelter, it does not matter. Each one of you individually carries the memories of your past with all of its richness and diversity. Each one of you represents the ideas, cares and passions of all whom you have encountered in your lifetimes. Therefore, each of you has infinite importance in preserving the unique essence of your lives for the future. Please – never underestimate your importance to what remains of human destiny and of your duty to do everything you can to survive what is to come.
“Tonight I wanted to put to rest all the rumors you may have been hearing. Obviously we have not allowed the unrestrained flow of world news into the shelters so that your morale was not devastated. But tonight it is my purpose to give you the full details and to let you know that the situation is serious and will continue to get even worse over the coming days.
“I do not have time to tackle every rumor, but a significant one that needs to be addressed states that the scientific data shows that the quantum storms are not materializing as predicted and may not commence at all. I can assure you that this rumor is completely false. All our data streams show precisely the opposite– that the conditions in the interior of our sun are developing just as Dr. Seven’s model predicted. The timeline for commencement of the storms is holding true.
“It was expected that denial would be the strongest and most prevalent human response to these difficult circumstances. It is especially true outside the shelters but it has now managed to seep inside. Some level of denial is probably healthy – we all cling to the hope that this is somehow all wrong and that we, in fact, do not fully understand what is happening in the quantum spaces of the sun. But to actually plan and act on denial is irrational and can be deadly.
“While it was our agreement that each of you who are in government sponsored shelters could leave at any time you wished, please remember that once you leave, you will not be allowed to return. Therefore, understand that trusting your life to a rumor and leaving the security of the shelter may turn out to be a critical error in judgment that cannot be reversed.”
Desmond paused again and sighed deeply before he resumed his speech.
“It is not an easy time for any of us. But I have taken to a rather unique thought process put forth by a well known psychologist. She suggested that I encourage you to think in terms of an interstellar space voyage. Each shelter – large or small - represents little islands of human life set in a very inhospitable part of space – biding our time, traveling through space until we reach another habitable place and time. It may take a whole lifetime or two to reach the other side, but eventually, the earth will become habitable again. It is our duty to ride on the waves of time in our ships until we reach the other side.
“We must protect the sparks of life with which we have been entrusted and we must preserve the incredibly diverse genetic traces of all the plants and animals that will repopulate the earth once the storms have passed. I agree that it is frightening, but it is also breathtakingly momentous. We have each been entrusted with an awesome duty – to do our small part, to save our small contribution and pass it along, to believe in the essential goodness and importance of civilized human culture and to preserve it with our lives.
“It is very true that there is more suffering involved in this than at any other time in human history. But there is also, therefore, more purpose and an even greater reason to get tough, to get serious and to get down to the business of saving as many and as much as we can with what little we have.
“I cannot lie to any of you. I wish to God none of this were happening. Now I realize that as a scientist I am expected to hold religious concepts at an arms length. In fact, in m
y profession, I am expected not to even publicly speak of God or of supernatural things. Well, the time for unwise expectations has passed. The time for full introspection and an unlocking of the deepest part of our hearts has come. I will not be the fool who says in his heart there is no God. Instead, I will humble myself – and I do – and will unashamedly pray for deliverance from sources, from intellects and from powers far greater than my own understanding. I am not ashamed to say it - I pray and so should you. There are far fewer atheists and agnostics today than there were a year ago, I can fully assure you!
“I can also promise you that I am determined with every living cell in my body and brain that I will never, ever give into despair nor will I give in to cowardly fatalism. I will pray, you can be sure, but I will also not give up nor give in. There is an old Russian proverb that says, “Pray to God but keep on rowing to the shore.” That describes my mind-set perfectly: I vow to fight this. Along with you, and by the grace of Almighty God, we will row our tiny boats of humanity over to the other side of this calamity – whenever and wherever that far shore may lie. On that pledge, I swear with my life. Goodnight and Godspeed to all of you – and may God indeed bless and preserve us all.”
29
In Miller’s Cave , Lew Warren, Dale Wattenbarger and Lance Charles sat clustered around a tiny black and white monitor watching the face of Raylond Desmond as he concluded his speech and the flickering frame turned to black. They sat in silence just staring at the screen surrounded by the empty hiss and static from the monitor.
Finally Warren broke the silence. “Well, I guess that explains a lot of what we’ve been picking up and hearing on our radios and satellite links.”
“It also tells me that from now on we’ve got to be more careful than ever and not give our shelter away,” Charles added.
“That’s exactly right, Lance,” Warren agreed. “We’ve got to get serious about our security around here. We must decide together not to come or go without a plan from now on. If anyone finds our cave, we’ve had it.”
“Is that the guy we have to reason with, I mean, eventually?” Wattenbarger asked intently, his face still glued to the blank screen.
“What?” Warren responded, taken by surprise.
“That guy. That Professor Desmond, or whatever his name is. I want to know if he’s the guy that fits into your grand plan to get us out of here – I mean, later, when the time comes?” Wattenbarger asked, bending his fingers in the air to make visible quotes around his last words.
Warren looked as though he were taken off balance by the question, then responded, “I don’t know, maybe. Why do you ask?”
“Because he doesn’t look like the kind of guy you can pull the wool over,” Wattenbarger retorted.
Warren looked surprised, and then supremely annoyed, as he inquired, “What makes you think I’m going to try and pull anything over on him?”
Wattenbarger looked to Charles and then back to Warren . “Well, the plan’s to get from here to there during the middle of a solar radiation storm that may last for many lifetimes. And the only hope we have to make it out of here alive is either in the actual quality of your plan or in our capacity to make it sound good enough.”
“And your point is…” Warren pressed, looking angry as his eyes scanned between Wattenbarger and Charles.
“Well, we don’t exactly fully understand your plan…” Charles admitted not daring to look Warren in the eyes.
“Of course you don’t understand my plan, and you never will! No one on the planet understands my plan, and that’s what makes it so damn perfect!” Warren exploded.
“Well, if he doesn’t understand your plan, then we can just kiss it all goodbye,” Wattenbarger said pointing at the television monitor as he stood and faced Warren defiantly. “Now, last time I looked, I had an IQ significantly higher than both of yours together. So why don’t you just try splainin’ it all again – but this time so that we can all understand it! What do you think we’re gonna do? Run off and patent your little idea?”
Warren himself stood and paced toward the cave entrance as if he were going to stalk away in his anger. Then he stopped, turned to face them and said, “Okay then. Here it is, one more time. Only this time, listen…”
“Wait a minute,” Wattenbarger said. “This time, explain it all and don’t leave any of it out. No more proprietary crap. Lay it out, all of it, the science, the physics, the quantum boundary layers, all of it. Explain it to us just like you intend to explain it to him,” Wattenbarger said, pointing to the empty monitor.
“Yeah,” Charles agreed defiantly. “And ‘splain it this time so that even Marbles can understand it!”
Wattenbarger looked to Warren who appeared as though he was about to straddle Charles. Then Marbles snorted and began to snore, lying asleep on his back. Warren shook his head slowly, leaned against the cool rock of the cave and smiled as the other two men burst into howls of laughter.
30
The Jiang Zemin floated nearly dead in the water some 35 fathoms under the surface, her bow pointed north, north east, her rudder practically ineffectual as she lay nearly adrift in a meager ocean current called the South China Sea Drift. Although the Jiang Zemin’s skipper, Xiao Luan, had not been told where they were headed, all signs pointed toward a slow amble to intercept a powerful ocean flow called the Kuroshio Current. This oceanic feature was a virtual river of warm water flowing like an expressway north past Japan and then looping south of the Aleutian chain. The South China Sea Drift into which they were embedded plodded along from the Chinese mainland away from Victoria Harbor and eventually joined the more powerful Kuroshio.
Luan had grown increasingly irritable. The Quantum Storms were projected to begin in but a few days hence. And the Jiang Zemin, as one of the most important and potently powerful assets in the Chinese navy had been assigned to shadow an unlikely, repulsive American built monstrosity that had been designated innocuously ARA52 by his superiors. The American platform without perceptible means of self-propulsion and no capacity to submerge was apparently designed as a survival shelter of some sort in which his government had taken a keen interest. Yet Luan had not attempted to hide his disgust at forcing his sleek, powerful underwater juggernaut to float aimlessly alongside a hideously designed and inconsequential current rider. ARA52 was noisy and it painted a confusing, but rather large, image on his digital sonar which had some difficulty outlining its exact features on Luan’s flat screen display because it was so geometrically complex. The floater’s top sat squarely on the surface and was always awash in the waves. In higher seas, it disappeared below, but rhythmically floated back again, just to take on another large swell and disappear beneath the surface once more.
Some fifteen kilometers to the northwest and to the south east of the Jiang Zemin sailed two Chinese frigates and one heavy cruiser. The ships had been specially outfitted with layers of thick shielding on their exteriors so that the crew could live and work below decks, even in the coming storms. The four ships operated in unison, together shadowing and tracking every painfully sluggish move of ARA52.
Onboard ARA52 was a Chinese government operative with whom Luan had spoken infrequently over the common communications circuits. He found the individual with an American sir-name, who seemed to regard himself as the Admiralty of the flotilla, to be arrogant and imperious. This infuriated Luan even further. Luan regarded himself as the most accomplished naval officer in the Chinese Navy; how dare a mere civilian step in and begin to dictate complex military stratagem during the worst crisis in all of history? How dare a pencil-pushing desk-hand step into his path and order the maneuvering of the world’s finest and most powerful boat and crew? About these things, Luan fumed silently, not wishing anyone on his crew to witness his questioning of higher authority. But it was this impulsive resentment that ordered Luan’s thinking and even seeded the idea that there must be a way out of the bitter conundrum.
Xiao Luan sat at the desk in his cabin. Over his ears wer
e a large set of American made noise blocking headphones he used to listen to classical music. He was reviewing the bottom topography charts over which the current slowly but deliberately carried them. He noted that just a day and a half ahead, directly in the path of the current, lay a set of shallow shoals, deep enough to allow the ships to safely pass over but shallow enough to snag the much deeper ARA52. He laughed silently to himself imagining the ungainly steel structure bashing itself to pieces in the shallows. He wondered what the pompous Dr. Adams would say as he was plucked dripping wet out of the water, if he managed to survive such an ordeal at all.
There was a rapid flashing of a tiny light he had installed to signal someone desired his presence at his door. With the ever-present headphones on his ears, Captain Luan required visible signals to alert him of functions onboard his boat.
He paused three long seconds, partly for tradition, partly to signal his overriding authority over everyone and every circumstance. Then he barked, “Enter!” as he pulled his headphones down to hang loosely around his neck.
“Sir, we have a… ah… there is an issue, sir!” said a soft-spoken Lieutenant standing before him.
“Well, what is it?” Luan asked, not hiding his frustration.
“Sir, the Officer of the Deck asked me to come here and summon you to the bridge immediately.”
Luan looked at the Lieutenant he had personally trained and promoted. The young man obviously had fear written all over his face.
“Sit!” Luan commanded, pointing at the chair beside his desk. He was absolutely not in the mood for games.
“But sir,” the Lieutenant protested, his eyes looking back toward the bridge.
“I hear no alarms. I hear no call to general quarters. My personal telecom to the bridge has not rung. Sit!”
Quantum Storms - Aaron Seven Page 25
