Annihilation (The Seamus Chronicles Book 1)

by McAdams, K. D.

  It’s not the end of the world. I need to act, or more importantly, react, like an adult. An adult who has just lost almost ten years of creativity, sweat and sacrifice. Everyone else may see this stuff as just computer parts or garbage, but it was my whole world. “Disappointment” doesn’t seem like a strong enough word. On the other hand, “devastation” seems overly dramatic.

  “What’s the story?” Dad is back from surveying the perimeter. “Need a hand unpacking your gear?”

  “Nope,” I’m going to try for upbeat. “It’s all junk. Looks like whatever didn’t melt in the fire got trashed in the crash.”

  “Oh Seamus, I’m so sorry.” Mom comes to my side and puts an arm around my shoulders. “I know that lab represented years of scavenging and hacking. You worked so hard on each and every component.”

  “I guess I have to try and think about the good news.” I look at both of them. “My code was all backed up on the network and there is nothing in these carriers I can’t replace with a little hard work. Instead of putting together another hack-lab, I get to build an awesome new lab.”

  “A positive attitude is going to come in handy a lot in the coming months.” Dad has his hand on my shoulder. I guess this gesture has replaced the hug now that I’m an adult. “It’s okay to be disappointed, but moving forward is key. Do you want me to find a Dumpster for this stuff?”

  “Paddrick! Give him at least a minute to be sad.” Mom slaps him on the shoulder.

  “Yeah, why don’t you just throw the carrier and everything right in. That stuff is from the old world. I want to build something for the new world.” Now I see opportunity in front of me.

  Chapter 26

  I could live in a bubble, too, if things kept going my way. Power came back on while Dad and I threw the rooftop carriers in the Dumpster. It’s funny that I have a physical sensation of feeling lighter now that the lab is gone. My guess is that tomorrow I’ll feel overwhelmed when I start the rebuilding process, but for now, I’m free.

  We’re driving back to San Francisco. I’ve agreed to ride with Jane and Cassandra so we can continue our discussion on my reactor. The two of them have handled things remarkably well. We spent the afternoon in the conference room going between the whiteboard and the computer display we’ve projected on the wall. They have moved from doubt to suspicion, and I almost have them to acceptance.

  “I still don’t understand how you came up with the idea for your containment field.” Jane stopped questioning the physics about thirty minutes ago. Now she seems to be focused on the process.

  “I’m not sure how to answer that.” The truth is the idea just sort of came to me. “I was thinking about how magnets and copper wire generate electricity with no waste. The waste comes from whatever is used to make the magnets move around the wire. Then the idea just came to me.”

  “How do you know it will be stable?” Cassandra is more focused on the hard science. “I can envision a number of scenarios that don’t end well.”

  “In addition to common sense?” My question is rhetorical. “We live in a balanced system. That was the super-symmetry point you were trying to make this morning. I’m not moving anything to the other side of the seesaw, just rearranging the things on our side.”

  We go on like this for the entire ride, Jane looking for sources behind my knowledge and Cassandra looking for proof of components I consider fact. I get the impression that they would both prefer to be doing this in a lecture hall under more formal circumstances. While I am a big fan of structure and documentation, it is an odd experience.

  We pull up to the garage door at the Crenshaw home and Jane instinctively presses the button on the garage door remote. It has no effect. Naturally, she presses it again. The door does not open. It wasn’t user error that prevented the door from going up. The light beside the back door is not on and there is no glow from inside the building. San Francisco has lost power.

  “Looks like the power is out.” I can’t resist.

  “Well I’m sure that it will be back soon.” Jane can’t help but count on her luck.

  We get out of the car and Jane unlocks the back door. As we shuffle in, I have a feeling that the Crenshaw bubble is about to burst. Electricity doesn’t need a coffee break. It didn’t pause to catch its breath before going back to work. Something broke, and there is no lineman heading out to repair it.

  At home we have a gas stove. Even when the electricity goes out in a blizzard, we can cook on the stove. The Crenshaws have an electric cooktop and no gas appliances. There will be no gourmet dinner tonight.

  Jane and Cassandra try their best to go about what must be a regular routine. The car keys are hung up and purses are placed on a chair. I believe that at some point there was a magazine or newspaper involved in their evening ritual. That was either replaced by a tablet long ago or eliminated when delivery stopped a few weeks ago.

  Cassandra opens the refrigerator and squints at the contents inside. With no light in the fridge or in the kitchen, taking inventory is difficult. Clearly she is not experienced in loss-of-power situations. She should keep the door to the fridge closed and not flush the toilets.

  “Maybe you could go round up some candles.” Dad puts his hand on the refrigerator door and pushes it closed. “We’ll take care of dinner tonight.”

  I would have expected more of a protest from them. Instead, both Jane and Cassandra head off to another part of the house. I’m sure that they have a perfect assortment of candles in a very specific location. It’s not like they need to find them; they need to get them.

  When we finally sit down to eat, Dad does not have food in front of him. My first thought is one of concern that he is ill and will be coughing soon. The dining room is quiet and awkward. Five of us have become accustomed to scavenging for dinner and eating in less-than-traditional settings. There are three adults that are learning to accept inconvenience and eating for sustenance, not pleasure or comfort.

  “I tested all the ingredients before I served them. Everything on the table is safe, and I’m a little full.” Dad is smiling. “We need to talk about tomorrow and the rest of our future.”

  There are no objections.

  “We should permanently relocate to Ames.” He specifically watches Jane for her reaction, but there is none. “Not only is it self-contained with its own power substation and backup generators, it has a reasonable security perimeter. I know that you have been comfortable here since things happened, but I don’t expect power to return. I’m sure the commute seems better with no cars on the road, but we need to think about conserving every resource we have. Not just gas and food, but time and energy, too.”

  “Could we have some time in the morning to pack up a few things?” Cassandra is speaking for both of them. “There are some housing units we can move into down there. We’ll be able to move around on foot or by bicycle if we restrict our world to the campus.”

  They must have foreseen this day coming. It can’t be that big of a surprise, but they are reacting as if they just realized that the population of the planet has been erased. I suppose that the shock of realizing something that you have known for a time is more stressful than instant recognition.

  “After we eat, I’ll go out and retrieve a box truck or something to help move your personal effects. I’ll also gather some breakfast food so we can all eat before we try and do anything strenuous.” Dad is careful with his tone and trying to keep an even temper.

  Dinner didn’t really end; it sort of just stopped happening. Mom excused herself and did not come back. Then Grace and Sofie announced that they were going to take Remmie up to bed. I waited around thinking that we could talk more about my reactor, but Jane and Cassandra were not in a chatty mood. Liam went out with Dad to help locate a moving truck and breakfast foods. I was left to finally go up to my room alone and let myself fade off to sleep thinking about how to build a new and better lab.

  Today is another early morning for me. I’m a little lost, not having to wor
ry about what is going to happen or where we are going to spend the night. Once we get to Ames, it will be our home for good. No temporary lodging or reason for keeping our things packed away. I never moved as a kid, but it seems like settling into a new home is easy. Rebuilding my lab will be work.

  We all help move the suitcases and a few select pieces of furniture. Dad has to veto a few items that are too hard to move, but in general he is pretty generous with what he puts effort into for them. Jane and Cassandra share some memories while we work, but they do not seem original or deep. I suddenly feel like this home was for show and that they used it as a tool to progress their careers or their perceived standing in the community. My gut tells me that they have real memories down at Ames and will actually be more comfortable once we all live there.

  Dad and Liam drive the box truck while Sofie drives Mom, Grace and Remmie down in the Escalade. Somehow I wind up riding with Jane and Cassandra. The trip is quiet and I spend my time thinking about what I should be thinking about. Yesterday we were guests in their pre-apocalyptic world. Today they are permanent residents in our post-apocalyptic nightmare. We have the upper hand of experience, but they have home field advantage. It seems the playing field is level. I hope we can work together as a team.

  We pull into the parking lot at Ames and everyone gets out of the vehicles. There is an awkward moment of silence, but Jane surprises me as the first one to speak.

  “I know that Ames is ‘our; space, but I want you all to do what you need to make parts of it your own. We would both appreciate the privilege of keeping our lab building and the museum intact, but other than that, I can’t see much reason to treat these spaces with reverence.”

  “Seamus, I know that you are hoping to rebuild your lab, but Mother and I would like to invite you to join us in working in our space.” Cassandra is looking at me directly. “Before we begin unloading, I will show you where the component supply warehouse is located, so that you can get anything you need to progress with your reactor development.”

  “Thank you.” I’m not sure if I should speak before Mom or Dad says something, but why not. “I have a lot to think about before rebuilding my lab and it doesn’t seem like there is much need to rush. I can help unload and work on making this place feel more like home.”

  “We respectfully disagree.” Cassandra is still speaking for both she and her mother. “If all your calculations are truly correct, you will need a huge power surge to initiate your device. Even our massive generators will not be able to generate that level of surge. You need to get your reactor built and get it working before our plant fails.”

  I thought that using the generators to initiate the reaction might be a problem. I haven’t run through the calculations yet, so I don’t like to say that it will be impossible. That being said, I need to take this opportunity to prove myself.

  “Well, I hope that version of the redundant secure network you mentioned the other night can get me to my cloud.” I’m ready to drop everything to focus on my reactor.

  “I think you will be pleasantly surprised with what we are able to connect you with.” Cassandra is feeling pretty self-confident herself.

  “Fine. Why don’t you nerds get to work on your computer stuff.” Dad is not interested in joining our little love fest. “The rest of us are going to explore the campus. While we are living together as a community, I think we should have a central food storage and dining facility. We cannot afford to waste food or water.”

  “Paddrick, before you head off to explore, I would like to speak with you for a minute.” Jane is walking closer to Dad and it seems like she wants to speak with him in private. “I have a rather large request I would like you to consider.”

  Cassandra is walking off towards the building we spent time in yesterday. She didn’t wait to be dismissed or ask for permission. I fall in behind her and work on shifting my mind over to the reactor. My first priority has to be downloading code and the right build environment from my cloud storage. Second will be to get the components together to begin the manufacturing process.

  “Let’s start in the supply room.” Cassandra is talking over her shoulder as she walks. We are in the hallway of the building, about to pass the stairs up to the conference room we were in yesterday.

  “I’d rather go to the lab and begin downloading some things that might take a while.” I am skilled at multi-tasking when it comes to waiting for bits and bytes to travel across the network.

  “Well, you should have a new workstation for that.” She opens the door and flips a light switch.

  The room is filled with workstations and monitors. The walls are lined with bins of processors, circuit boards and memory blocks. It is a geek candy store. The supply is not unlimited, but it is more than I will need to build not only a killer lab, but several reactors, if need be. I can see that everything is labeled and there appear to be spec sheets hanging from each bin. There will be no need to guess what a component is good at before testing it out. This will be the first real development environment I have ever worked in. The efficiencies will be abundant. I can’t wait to get started.

  “Why don’t you poke around for a bit?” Cassandra can tell that I am excited and trying to decide what to check out first. “I’m going to grab a cart so we can bring things upstairs without having to carry them.”

  Chapter 27

  Working with Cassandra is not easy. She is smart. Not quite my level, but smart enough to ask questions about everything I need her to do. There have been a few areas where her questions resulted in modifications that will improve my reactor. However, in general, I ask her to do something, we argue about it, she does it, and finds out that I was right.

  Part of me is jealous when she thinks of something that will improve my idea. I keep reminding myself that I have invented the most advanced piece of technology in the history of mankind. There would be no tweaks or enhancements if I hadn’t come up with the idea in the first place. Cassandra must think that she is something special to be making improvements on something this advanced.

  While there is a physical attraction to her, I don’t like her.

  That’s not actually true. It’s more like I don’t think anything of her. She’s there. I don’t hate her, but if she were gone, I wouldn’t be upset. It’s kind of sad to think that, because there are not many other people left in the world. Both of the Crenshaws are kind of stiff and robotic. It’s always “mother,” never “mom” or, god forbid, “ma.” In the other direction, it’s always “Cassandra,” never “Cassie” or “sweetheart.” I don’t think my Dad would have ever spoken to me if he couldn’t use a nickname or pet name. Maybe they have developed this approach as a way to remain professional at work? At any rate, the lab feels icy and detached.

  I have been working for almost 20 hours straight. It feels good to be back at this full tilt. My new self-awareness has me recognizing that my execution is slipping as I get more tired. Interestingly though, my creativity seems to be on the rise the more tired I get. I would like to get the containment fields complete before I go off to sleep. I wonder if I should try and do what Einstein did and sleep for 20 minutes every 4 hours?

  Just as I finish the final touches on the containment field generator, Cassandra and Jane walk into the lab. I was debating a test of the finished work, but with them here I will put it off until I can sleep a little and double-check my work.

  “Good morning,” I greet them pleasantly.

  “Have you been in here all night?” Jane is not happy to see me.

  “I guess so.” I’m not sure why it matters to her. “I was kind of rolling, so I decided to keep at it. I just finished building the containment field generator.”

  “Please don’t touch anything else.” Jane is shaking her head as if I just ruined her favorite toy. “Go to bed. It may have been ‘cool’ back home, but here at Ames we do not do all-nighters. They are not safe and they are not efficient.”

  “I’m not saying it’s cool.” I am de
fensive and a little surprised that she is not impressed with me. “I’ve just always worked this way. The price of having to get through high school while conducting advanced research and development.”

  “Well there is no more high school to get in your way.” She is moving on to her own things. “From now on, the lab is accessible from seven to seven and that will be it.”

  “I don’t think I can work like that.” I feel like I am arguing with my mom about bedtime. “Besides, I thought you agreed that my reactor was pretty important.”

  “You are working on a device that will generate gigawatts of power in a very small space.” Jane is staring me down. “There is the very real possibility that a mistake could be explosive. I will not lose a life or my lab because you didn’t get enough sleep.”

  I generally know she has a good point, but I don’t like it. I’m safe. I knew not to test the containment field while I was this tired. I also know exactly how wrong things can go with this invention. There is at least one hole in the ground back home that can attest to how much power can be discharged.

  “Can we make a compromise and say no more than twelve straight hours in the lab?” I want to work with her and I think this is a good idea.

  “No.” She does not agree with me or feel the need to elaborate.

  “Well thanks for at least discussing it with me.” My sarcasm is thick and not meant to be hidden.

  “Seamus, there is nothing to discuss.” She is getting exasperated. “I do not trust that you would limit yourself to working twelve hours. I can imagine you leaving moments before I arrived only to return, denying that you had been here. What you and Cassandra are working on is important, but safety is more important to me. I will unlock the door at seven a.m. and lock it at seven p.m. This conversation is over.”

  “Fine. I’ll see you this afternoon.” I turn on my heel and I’m out the door. I was too tired to debate effectively. Now I’m too tired to even be that mad at her.