Sol Survivors

by Ken Benton

  But then she stopped as well.

  There seemed to be a flash of some kind in the sky which pulled many heads upward, including Joel’s. All he saw there was the private airplane. It, too, had gone eerily silent. The plane began a rapid downward descent in a westward direction.

  And then a parachute appeared in the sky behind it. The pilot proved to not be quite as stubborn as Joel assumed. But every bit as foolish and irresponsible as the ragamuffin declared.

  New York Stock Exchange, 11:42am

  Wall Street reporter Charlie Mallard pointed his chin at his cameraman.

  “Are we on?”

  The cameraman’s thumb went up as the blinking red light turned solid. Charlie straightened and brought the microphone to his mouth.

  “Yes, I’m here on the floor of the NYSE on a historic bad day where trading has recently resumed again after a level-2 curb halted all activity on the exchange for a second fifteen-minute interval. The first halt occurred shortly after 10am when the S&P 500 dropped more than 7% from the open. The market recovered somewhat when trading continued, until news from the scientific community reconfirmed fears of potentially catastrophic results from the solar storm expected to impact the North American continent sometime before noon eastern today—which means it is expected at any time now.

  “The second curb triggered to stop trading at approximately 11:13am when the S&P was down 13% on the day. In the ten minutes or so since trading has resumed, the market has only further plummeted. The question that remains to be answered is whether the final circuit breaker rule will be invoked should the S&P find itself down 20%, which will close the market for the remainder of the day, or whether the solar storm itself will shut the market down. We’re told the backup power supply here is believed to be foolproof—”

  The microphone shocked Charlie. He dropped it. What the hell?

  A tumult rose from the exchange floor behind him. He turned to encounter a momentarily frightening darkness.

  But then a sound like a generator starting immediately preceded the lights coming back on. Not just the overhead white lights—the display screens in and around the trading pits and the iconic stock ticker above the exchange floor, too. The ticker blinked several times and then began scrolling the prices of the last trades.

  The tumult in the pits turned to cheering, and gradually into elevated shouting from the traders. Charlie knew that noise. It was the sound of frenzied buying.

  The camera light began blinking again. Charlie knelt and cautiously touched the microphone before picking it up.

  “Well, I guess that was it,” Charlie said standing for the camera. “We had what I’m assuming was an electrical surge, but the backup power has come on, and, as you can see behind me, trading has resumed at a fever pitch. The markets appear to be shifting into fast recovery mode. Keep in mind floor trading represents less than twenty percent of all executed trades in our day and age.”

  Charlie looked at the pits again, where he noticed the initial flurry of activity had now calmed. He reached in his pocket, grabbed his cell phone, checked the screen, and turned back to the camera.

  “…and to speak to that point, the volume on the floor may be losing its momentum.” He held his phone up. “I’ve noticed I am no longer getting a cellular signal, so that could well be a factor preventing trade orders from getting through. Hopefully—”

  The camera light went off.

  “Ah, hell!” Charlie flailed his hand in exasperation.

  Ten seconds later he found himself in the dark again.

  NORAD, Colorado Springs, CO 9:43am

  Major Louis Pinter hesitated before answering the general, repeatedly pushing nonresponsive buttons at his station.

  “No, General. We’ve lost all contact with all satellites.”

  The general, his usual calm self, replied, “Well how are you going to find your way home, Major Pinter, without your GPS system telling you where to turn?”

  Nervous laughter spurt from officers around the command center who knew Louis. It was true; he had come to depend on GPS instructions for driving too much, even for rudimentary errands around town. The thought of having to remember routes or consult a paper map was reprehensible. But it may be awhile before anyone here sat down behind the wheel of a car. The country’s early launch detection system had just been crippled. NORAD kicked into high alert mode, and the situation was now considered a national defense emergency.

  “Do we have contact with our subs?” the general asked loudly.

  “No,” the senior communications officer on duty replied. “All radio transmissions failing as well.”

  The general made a snorting sound. “So, we’re blind from space and deaf from the seas. Not my favorite command moment. Is the President still on the line?”

  “We lost him,” another voice answered.

  “Brilliant. What about our local power grid?”

  Before anyone could answer, the overhead lighting flashed off and on for a quick second. Power to the command stations, and all associated networking systems, held steady.

  “I believe it just went down, General. That light flash marked our transition to self-supplied power.”

  “Contact with the silos is maintained?” the General asked.

  “Yes, sir. One hundred percent.”

  “What about our mountain eyes?”

  Louis answered this one. “Continental-based launch detection systems are operating at 74%—wait, make that 82% capacity.”

  “It will have to do,” the general grumbled.

  Another voice spoke. “General, the President is back on and requesting status. You can pick him up on the emergency line.”

  My Gym, Orlando, FL, 11:43am

  “Mom! Look!”

  Jane glanced away from her iPhone+ screen long enough to spot Ariel, currently upside down with her brown hair uncurling, held in a handstand position by the instructor.

  “Great, honey!” Jane’s eyes moved back to her candy matching game before she finished responding.

  “Mom!” Ariel shouted again.

  This time Jane replied without looking up. “I see, Ariel! That’s terrific! You’re doing so good!”

  “My,” an invasive female voice from behind said. “Your daughter—Ariel?—might be an Olympic gymnast one day.”

  Jane began to turn, but a huge section of chocolate teddy bears lined up and burst all over the screen. Sweet!

  “Wouldn’t that be something?” Jane answered in a tone made more cheerful by all the bonus points she was getting.

  “Are you reading the news, by chance?” the same voice asked.

  Now Jane did turn, lowering her phone away from the intruder’s view. An older woman she didn’t know, doubtlessly a grandma, sat delicately balanced with her knees together on the step above her.

  “No,” Jane said.

  “I am,” a gal Jane’s age said sitting next to her, also on an iPhone+. “If you’re wondering about the solar flare thing, the latest is they still expect it to cause power outages everywhere. Guess we should be ready for the lights to go out.”

  “Thank you,” the older woman replied. “There is so much sunlight coming through the windows, I guess we don’t need to worry about that much.”

  Jane went back to her game only to find the screen now frozen. Dammit, why can’t people mind their own business. She tried refreshing it, and even exiting the game and reopening it. No connection. Back out on the start screen, she noticed she was no longer getting an internet signal.

  Looking around at the other moms confirmed her fears. Many tapped furiously on phones or tablets, shaking their heads and making disgusted sounds. One by one they all set their devices down and shifted their attention to the gym floor. Smiles bloomed on faces reconnecting lines of sight to long lost toddlers and preschoolers.

  Jane also redirected her vision to the mats. It had gotten darker in the room, but not by too much. There was Ariel, in the middle of them all, doing a hand spring by hersel
f.

  She really was very good.

  Interstate 70 West of St Louis, MO, 10:43am

  Harry fiddled with the radio dial too long. He didn’t notice traffic slowing in front of him.

  When he looked up, he had no choice but to swerve into the left lane. By the grace of God no car was there.

  Shaken, he hit the brakes. It wasn’t necessary, as only the right lane had jammed up. The driver of the semi that had been in front of him glanced down when Harry slowed alongside him.

  Harry hit the gas again as traffic from behind quickly gained. He cursed at the radio, reached to feel for the large button, and pushed it to end the static. The news station he’d been listening to in St. Louis must now be out of range, and he wouldn’t get clear reception from most Kansas City stations for another fifteen minutes.

  Kansas City. He needed to make it home to be with Erica and the boys if this blackout scaremongering proved real. The last thing he heard was they were still warning about it, and expected it to hit imminently. Harry hoped for a reprieve of at least another hour.

  He simply hadn’t had time to worry about it much. The business deal in St. Louis was all he could think about the last couple of weeks. It consumed his waking hours and cost him sleep. Now that he finally got through the meeting, and still didn’t know if the deal would come together, he found he could breathe again—and think clearer.

  Who ever heard of a sun storm? Harry blew the whole thing off until today, partly because it sounded like science fiction but mainly because it didn’t fit his schedule. Suddenly he wanted to be home in case there really was anything to it. He probably should have stocked up on extra canned food and batteries. Maybe Erica did. Truth was he paid little attention to her words lately, pretending to listen but always preoccupied with business.

  Harry felt a sudden jolt. He checked the mirror. Did he just get rear-ended? The car behind him was slowing.

  Wait. Harry’s car was also slowing. Actually, it wasn’t even running. Wow, a stall.

  He shifted into neutral and pushed the ignition button.

  Nothing.

  With the remaining rolling momentum, Harry managed to pull mostly onto the left shoulder. But shifting into park there failed to make the ignition work. He cursed and stepped outside.

  The car behind him was an older grey sedan. If it hit him, the driver was either afraid to approach or was now also stalled on the highway. Harry checked the rear bumper of his modern crossover SUV, but saw no new scuff marks.

  That’s when he noticed every other car on the highway was also stopped on the road, including the semi-truck. For a moment, the scene resembled one of … science fiction.

  Then, some of the cars started up again. Harry heard the grey sedan crank its ignition, and the engine finally fired. It slowly moved towards him, and then passed right by. The semi-truck also restarted, and followed the grey sedan forward.

  Harry hastened back to his driver’s seat. But his car still sounded dead. He couldn’t even turn it over. After several minutes, he went back out on the highway.

  Ahead and behind, other stalled cars were still in view, many of them late models. But some vehicles drove by, mostly older models, slowly as they tried to zigzag their way through the stalls. None of the passing drivers made eye contact with Harry as he stood there on the roadside looking pathetic.

  Highway 93 Next to Hoover Dam, NV, 8:43am

  “Wow, Dad, it looks like a giant wall!”

  Curtis laughed. “That’s exactly what it is, Jimmy. A giant wall holding back the Colorado River. You know there’s enough concrete in that thing to pave a road across the entire country, from the Atlantic to the Pacific?”

  “We get to go up on top of it, right?”

  “You betcha. That’s what we came for.”

  Janine spoke. “Honey, I don’t know if they’re letting people up on it today.”

  “What?” Curtis leaned and squinted through the passenger window of the motorhome. “Why do you say that?”

  Janine rustled the map and pointed. “That’s the access road right there, and they have it coned off. Why are you slowing? You can’t stop here.”

  “I’m not slowing. I think we have … stalled. I have to pull over.”

  “Won’t it restart?”

  Curtis didn’t answer until they fully stopped and he could put the transmission in park.

  “Doesn’t seem to want to.”

  “Hey dad, those other cars all stopped, too,” Jimmy said from the back seat. “Can we get out?”

  “Huh?” Curtis looked ahead. “That’s strange.”

  Jimmy didn’t wait for permission. In two seconds he was out through the side door of the RV. Curtis could see him in the outside mirror staring in wonder at the dam, the electrical towers, and all the wires. But when Curtis and Janine joined him there, he wasn’t smiling.

  “Jimmy, are you okay?” Janine asked.

  “I don’t feel good, mom. I’m dizzy.”

  Curtis suddenly felt dizzy, too.

  But a loud explosion atop one of the electrical towers commanded everyone’s attention.

  Followed by another. And another.

  Giant sparks shot outward from the tops of towers. Balls of light zipped along wires.

  “Wow!” Jimmy said. “It’s like fireworks.” He then hunched over and vomited.

  As Janine put her hand on their son, she gave Curtis a terrified look. Curtis could tell she was also nauseated.

  The cars on both sides of the highway all remained stopped. Not one moved. Other passengers had also gotten out of their vehicles, many of whom held their stomachs or heads.

  Las Vegas Strip, NV, 8:43am

  “Here’s your Bloody Mary, sir.”

  Tony thanked her without looking away from the machine, pretending he had a difficult decision to make so he wouldn’t have to tip her this round. But the cocktail waitress apparently knew the charade and didn’t even slow on her delivery route.

  Tips. If it weren’t for those, Tony probably wouldn’t be in the spot he was in. He must have tipped $300 this month alone so far. That would go a long way towards paying his car repair bill. Rumor has it people in Europe don’t tip. Do they have good casinos there?

  Tony pressed the max bet button again. Garbage. He went to hit the button for a complete redraw, but accidentally kept the 10 of clubs in the process. Dang it.

  And then the ace, king, queen, and jack of clubs hit the screen. His accident just made him a royal.

  “Yes!” Tony shouted. “About damn time!”

  That’s when the lights went out. And the air conditioning.

  And all the machines.

  “No!” Tony banged on the glass. “No, no, come back!”

  As if responding to his command, all the machines in the casino came back on. The screens went through a reboot process, and then Tony’s went back to his game. It showed his former balance, before the last hand was played.

  But the royal flush was gone.

  “No!” Tony stood up. “Help! I need help here, please!” He pushed the attendant call button.

  Then he noticed the machine was in the middle of a hand asking for him to draw. Upon closer examination, it was the garbage hand he had drawn the royal to. Tony carefully kept the 10 of clubs again and pressed draw.

  He made two pair this time.

  “No!” He banged the glass.

  “Can I help you, sir?” A voice from behind said.

  An attendant, thank God. Tony pointed at the game and spoke in a frantic voice.

  “I had a royal flush right when the lights went out. When they came back on it was gone, and I wasn’t paid.”

  “The lights are still out, sir. The machine banks have switched to our emergency backup power and reverted to their last state before the outage. And I just watched you draw that hand there.”

  “No, I had the royal! Clubs! It didn’t pay me and now it’s gone!”

  A high-pitched voice from the next row of machines spoke.
“Yeah, me too! I had the million dollar jackpot here!”

  “Me too,” a third voice from somewhere joined in, laughing.

  The attendant rolled his eyes and began walking away despite Tony’s further protests.

  The lights did not come back on. Neither did the air conditioning.

  San Francisco, CA, 8:43am

  Danny’s accomplices looked to him often, waiting for the signal. They chatted with each other and tried not to appear too conspicuous hanging out along the greenery of the Battery East Trail at the Golden Gate Welcome Center. They all dressed more or less like he did for the job on this brisk spring morning, as instructed, wearing long or heavy coats capable of concealing more than met the eye.

  Danny couldn’t afford to act as lackadaisical as his associates. This was the perfect spot, but he kept an eye out for police or military nonetheless. So far, none. He chose the location well. Maybe all the cops had been assigned more obvious places to protect in a blackout, such as banks and grocery stores.

  The solar storm was a potentially serious event. Danny researched it, and a worst case scenario did not seem unlikely at all. If it happened, they would be ready. They would take advantage. This would be the caper of a lifetime.

  A sound caught Danny’s attention. It was subtle.

  It was the sound of all sounds from the city suddenly ceasing.

  Danny looked up at the bridge. All traffic rolled to a stop. A moment in time to be captured and immortalized.

  “This is it!” Danny yelled to his crew. “It’s happened! Let’s go!”

  He didn’t wait for them. Danny broke into a trot, opening his coat as he ran. In another few yards it landed on the ground.

  On the Golden Gate Bridge, 8:45am

  Merv managed to get the bobtail truck restarted. Some of the other stalled cars on the bridge did also. But many did not.

  Looking ahead, Merv realized he would need a bit of luck for the immobilized vehicles to leave a path wide enough to weave through. Perhaps he could nudge some out of the way if need be.