“You’re such a fool,” he said through choking speech, gripping Wattenbarger, clinging to him. “I’ve never met someone with so many brains and so little sense.”
Wattenbarger tried to push away, but Warren clung to him tightly for fear of revealing his tears to his friend.
“Do you really think the ELF won’t work, Lew?” Wattenbarger asked in a whisper.
Warren released him, lowered his head and turned his back on his friend.
“Well, it’s not exactly like I lied to anybody,” Warren said in a whisper. “It’s not at all like Mel suggested. I guess at worst I could be considered a tad optimistic.”
“What d’ya mean, Lew?” Wattenbarger pressed.
“You know just as well as I do, Dale,” Warren said, turning to stare his life-long friend in the eyes. “You know about extremely low frequency transmitters and generating ELF frequencies and how the transmitters have been designed in the past. We just happened to skip all those steps and strap onto the first ever vertically hanging underground cable hoping by a wing and a prayer that we could use a simple data line to mimic an antenna. It was probably a stupid waste of time and most likely doesn’t transmit outside the well casing, much less around the earth! The fact is, Dale, I didn’t lie – I was just hopeful that we could figure out something, anything that would keep us alive.”
Wattenbarger just stared at him, then laughed lightly, kicking the sand with the toe of his shoe.
“Well, in my opinion, as ideas go – it remains one incredibly good one! Out of six billion people with as many stay-alive schemes, it at least ranks in the top ten!”
Warren laughed aloud and shook his head. “Well, Dale, if I have to die with anyone, I’d certainly choose the eternal optimist!” Then his smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. “But I don’t think Mel will ever forgive me and I know for sure that Lance won’t.”
“Wait just a minute, Lew,” Wattenbarger said confidently. “Why should the conversation ever come up?”
“You mean keep it from them?”
“Keep what from them?” Wattenbarger asked hotly. “I, for one, am the co-designer of the ELF and I believe in our work. Just because you’ve slipped into some kinda depression and got cold feet doesn’t change the fact that the signal is gettin’ off the mountain right now. To tell them any differently and destroy what little hope they have just because of some insecurity on your part is just crap, and I won’t let you do it to them!
“So get a grip, Lew, and start believing in yourself! I don’t know what you expected out of life, but I can tell you that I always expected to go down swinging the sword. My granddaddy asked to be buried with his boots on, and he was.”
Wattenbarger looked to the ceiling of the cave. “And I got his genes, so bring it on, sunshine, bring on your worst! You may think you won, you yellow sonofabitch, but as long as I got breath in my lungs and a brain in my head, you’ve got some real competition right down here.”
Warren nodded slowly, then placed his right arm on his friend’s shoulder. “Yeah… bring it on!” he said smiling.
But deep in his heart, he was very much afraid.
77
The Leviathan departed for the Dutch Harbor rescue within hours of connecting Pacifica to the Jiang Zemin’s power supply. Now Pacifica was fully powered by the Chinese 90 megawatt nuclear reactor under the tireless and ingenious efforts of Frank Spencer and the Commander, Joseph Blake.
Kevin Winsteed had been notified to prepare his people for the pickup in cryptic terms to prevent any third party from knowing Pacifica was no longer protected by its submarine force. But the Phoenix took up position orbiting continuously around Pacifica and listening to the noises of the ocean, constantly alerted to any prowling nemesis. However, it was not the noises from the ocean that concerned them at the moment, it was the noises they did not hear from the surface of the earth.
In Desmond’s quarters, Serea was busy trimming her father’s hair while Seven sat in a cushioned chair across from them, nursing a glass of locally produced ale. Luci and Meghan sat near the open window to the cavernous central dome, playing and giggling together.
“We’ve been monitoring radio transmissions from around the globe all along,” Seven said. “We take a daily census of broadcasts and are trying to get a handle on human activity.” He stopped and looked grave. “It’s not as stable as we had initially hoped,” he said.
“Whatever do you mean?” Desmond asked.
“We have an agreement among government shelters worldwide that we’ll monitor one another’s transmissions and at least keep track of each other on a regular basis. But they’ve been dropping offline in what I would categorize as an alarming number. When I first arrived at Pacifica , we were tracking over 100 large shelters across the world on a weekly basis. As of yesterday, that number has dropped to sixteen, and many of them are reporting significant problems.”
“My God, what’s happening to them?” Desmond responded.
“Many reasons. Some report internal struggles, others are always under external attacks by organized bands and groups. A few have been stricken by disease and two with fire. But most that have dropped off line we don’t have any information on at all. They just never reported back. At the current rate of drop-off, the human race will be extinct long before the storms end.”
“I’m glad you brought that issue up, Aaron,” Desmond said. “Karl Leighter had been continuously collecting data bursts from the Sudbury neutrino observatory until they stopped transmitting. He managed to collect every last data shred from Sudbury and he believes there is enough data in hand to indicate a trend.”
Seven could feel the hairs rise on the back of his neck. “What do you mean, trend?”
“I mean predicting the end of the storms,” Desmond replied, agreeably playing along with Seven’s rhetorical question.
“I don’t know, Raylond,” Seven responded. “That’s significantly outside the range of the model I’ve developed.”
“Remember what you said to the Chief of Staff all those months ago?” Desmond continued. “Remember when he asked you how long they would last? You said, and I quote now, and I think with some reasonable level of accuracy, ‘I can tell you it may last ten seconds or ten thousand years with equal certainty.’
“Well, Aaron, Karl has looked at your model and his data and thinks that if you can come up with just one more theoretical iteration, that you and he working together may have some chance at arriving at a prediction. And, of course, you know what that would mean to all of us.”
“No pressure, huh?” Serea asked her father, standing behind him and winking slyly at Seven.
“Has Karl made any progress in looking at the data and trying to match it up with the model?” Seven asked.
“Young Leighter is certainly one of the brightest analytical minds I have ever seen,” Desmond responded. “But your gift is one best described as progeny. He is not capable of looking at a complex data matrix and understanding its flow. You can.”
“I see,” Seven acknowledged, red faced, and then quickly changed the subject. “Bill and Frank have told me that the Jiang Zemin just had a fresh fuel loading and that its energy plant is good for at least 15 years, but that the Leviathan will experience significant power reductions in 12.”
“Which means your model had best show the storms fizzle out in less than 15, or we’re not going to make it either. Our light will eventually wink out, just like all the rest,” Desmond responded. “Pacifica ’s OTEC was specifically designed to last for 50 years or more. But now we are dependent on a supply which will run out far sooner than that. I’m afraid that if your calculations show the storms ending in anything more than 15 years, humanity might well become extinct across the planet. I am not sure there are any shelters with the capacity to make it much beyond that. As for the shelters, power is the single most important key to long term survival.”
Seven nodded, his eyes engaged in rigid deliberation. Then he abruptly got up a
nd turned to leave them.
“Where are you headed in such a hurry?” Serea asked, focusing carefully on the cut she was making just above her father’s right ear.
“I’m off to shack up with young Karl for about a month,” he said flippantly.
“So what am I supposed to do during all that time?” she asked over his shoulder with the feigned, hurt voice of a 12 year old girl.
Seven turned around and smiled. “I dunno. I suppose I’ll call up Twink and ask him to fill in for me.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Serea replied, winking behind her father’s back. “Send him over and I’ll have him keep your side warm while you and Karl are keeping company in the Command Center .”
“This… I don’t want to miss,” Seven responded.
Desmond closed his eyes slowly and shook his head as Seven merely shrugged at Serea and walked out of the room.
78
Exactly eleven days after the Leviathan departed to rescue the residents of Dutch Harbor, the nuclear submarine made a triumphant return back to Pacifica. The submarine docked in its pen below the main dome as the observation rails were jammed with well-wishers. As many of Pacifica’s residents that could maneuver into the restrictive space were there to make the official greeting as Winsteed and his crew walked off the Leviathan’s brow onto the platform.
At the lead of the crowd stood Seven, Serea and Desmond.
“Welcome home!” Seven said with a smile, embracing Winsteed.
“Thanks, it’s really good to be here!” Winsteed responded, his eyes staring with some uncertainty about the cavernous docking bay. “Wherever this is…”
“I’ll make sure you and your people get the grand tour later,” Serea offered.
“I’m just sorry I didn’t get everybody out of there,” Winsteed said with contrition and a breaking voice, as he looked down and slid his unlit cigar back into his mouth. “I lost some good kids back there.”
“Commander Winsteed, from all accounts, you are an extraordinary individual,” Desmond said, stepping up to him and extending his hand.
“Well, I guess I did my best,” Winsteed replied, accepting Desmond’s hand. “I’m just not sure it was good enough. At least, it wasn’t good enough for them.”
Desmond just nodded in respect and said, “Commander, there will be plenty of time for reflection, I can assure you.”
Then Desmond said pointedly, “Look at me, Kevin.”
Winsteed looked up and into Desmond’s eyes, the Navy Commander’s own eyes now moist.
“We all have regrets. We all have losses and have made mistakes – I know I do and I have, and I am personally sorry for my behavior when we last met. But we also have a long list of good things to our credit, as well. As a matter of fact,” Desmond said, glancing over Winsteed’s shoulder, “it looks to me like you have about 11 reasons to be proud of yourself and happy that you did whatever it was you did!”
“He’s right, Kevin,” Seven said, smiling and waving at the Dutch Harbor sailors lined up behind him, each of their eyes wide and staring at the magnificent structure of lower Pacifica. “And if you think this place is big and amazing, wait till we walk up those steps and into the dome!” Seven said, pointing up to the base of the main sphere rising above them. “You’ve never seen or imagined anything like it, I promise you!”
Serea smiled and nodded, her eyes also staring with satisfaction at the astonished and fidgeting sailors from Dutch Harbor .
“By the way,” Seven said, pointing his right thumb toward Serea, “if there’s anything wrong with the place, she designed it, so you can just blame it on her.”
“You designed this place?” Winsteed asked, his eyes now pasted on Serea in amazement. “You did this?”
“Come on, let’s get out of here and show you to your quarters,” Serea replied with a red-face as the Pacifica crowd began to cheer and hold up the hand lettered signs they had made for the arriving crew.
gh
Two days later, on Pacifica’s beautiful, lush beach, they threw the Dutch Harbor crew a luau complete with fresh fish harvested from the seamount below and pineapples grown in Pacifica’s thriving gardens. They each wore colorful Hawaiian leis made partially from colored paper and partially from fresh flowers grown on Serea’s balcony. Brilliant lights shown down on them, illuminated by the power from the nuclear reactor of the sunken Jiang Zemin, resting almost 550 feet below.
Standing in the sand next to Seven and Winsteed was Striker Legend, the only one present whose dress did not seem unusual. As he filled his mouth with hot, baked fish, he asked, “Hey Bubba, what d’ya think of this place?”
“Which bubba?” Seven asked with a wrinkled grin.
“The Alaskan bubba,” Legend replied, his mouth full of food, motioning toward Winsteed with his fish.
“It’s simply amazing,” Winsteed said honestly, his eyes attempting to take in the cavernous volume and its breathtaking, engineered beauty. “I just stare and stare at it and I can’t seem to actually believe it’s real. It seems too perfect or something. I can’t put my finger on it actually…”
“I know exactly what you mean,” Legend replied, his own eyes sweeping the space all around him. “Before they threw me out of here the first time, I was like really considering moving myself a little shack down here and livin’ on this beach right here, me and Sam, right here.”
“They threw you out?” Winsteed asked with some level of disbelief.
“They tossed my big butt right outta here,” Legend replied, stuffing his mouth full again.
“Off the beach, you mean?” Winsteed asked.
“Hell no! Outta the whole colony. Rode me and Sam outta here on a rail. And told me not to come back. They got some hard asses around here you wouldn’t even believe…”
Seven laughed aloud. “Stop it, will ya?” he directed to Legend, then looked to Winsteed. “I’ll tell you the whole story later, when we have time.”
“So what’s with the big announcement?” Legend asked, referring to a community meeting Seven had scheduled for the next morning.
“Just show up and listen,” Seven replied. “I’m sworn to secrecy.”
Serea joined them just as he was speaking. “It’s so hush-hush, he won’t even tell me!”
“Oh yeah, like we’re supposed to believe that!” Legend replied, flicking a chink of fish off his beard onto the sand.
“It’s okay, dear. I believe these guys can keep a secret,” Serea said to Seven in a low voice.
“I don’t know,” Seven responded, eyeing Legend carefully.
“Oh, thanks a lot, buddy. I come riding in here on my black steed outta the radioactive sunset and save your sorry butt like Gandalf and his army of half a million screamin’ gnomes and you don’t trust me? What’s up with that?”
“I believe you’ve already cashed that check,” Seven said. “Several times.”
“And I believe it’s still worth a lot more than I’ve received, so stay tuned, partner, cause you’re gonna see it again.”
“Tell them,” Serea nudged.
“If I do, you got to give me your word to keep it under wraps until tomorrow,” Seven said quietly.
“Yeah, like what am I gonna do?” Legend asked. “Go find me a bar, get all liquored up and spill the beans to a bunch of techno-geeks who probably already know it all anyway? You don’t think these twidgets haven’t already tapped your phone? Get real, buddy. You hired every genius on the planet and bundled them all together in this little metal ball in the octopus’ garden in the sea, now you’re gonna have to live with your sins, bubba! So what’s the big secret, anyway?”
“We’ve calculated the end of the storms.”
There was a protracted moment of silence. Legend and Winsteed just stared back at him while Serea dug her bare toes into the sand.
“Twenty years.”
“Twenty years!” Legend said loudly dropping his grin. “We don’t have twenty years!”
“Shhhh,” Serea said, pl
acing her hand on Legend’s arm. “You promised.”
“In case you haven’t been keepin’ up, we don’t have twenty years,” Legend whispered intensely to Seven. “The lights go out on the Chicom sub in 15 and the Leviathan earlier than that. And even if I can keep the Phoenix’s OTEC system up and runnin’ for 20 more years, it’ll barely keep half a dozen alive, much less hundreds!”
“It’s only a five year gap…” Seven began.
“Five days, five years or five centuries – it’s all the same. It won’t matter! When the lights go out, we’re all dead here. Don’t you get it?”
“We have some ideas,” Seven snapped, beginning to become annoyed with Legend.
“Like what?”
“Like pooling our minds and pooling our genius to come up with solutions in the next 15 years that will replace the power plants before they run out.”
“In other words, you don’t have crap!” Legend spat. “In other words, boy wonder, we’re screwed!”
“Get a grip, Striker, will ya!” Seven responded with more than a simple irritation. “We’re gonna figure this out. We have 15 years and we’re going to do whatever it takes to add five more years to our power capacity!”
“Then what?” Winsteed asked calmly.
“Then we walk out of here - all of us,” Seven responded, his eyes shifting back and forth between Winsteed and Legend.
“Why would we want to?” Winsteed asked innocently, his eyes scanning the awesome spectacle of Pacifica .
“Good point, Kevin,” Serea replied. “In twenty years, the continents of earth will basically be dry deserts and the atmosphere will be barely breathable. But, eventually, it will sustain life anew after we re-seed it and the oceans. With our cloning aspirations, ultimately, perhaps in a century or two, the entire planet will return to nearly its former state. However, I assume that some will not want to ever leave Pacifica and the new structures to come that will eventually make up its whole.”
Quantum Storms - Aaron Seven Page 71
