by G.R. Carter
*****
After the meeting, students wandered off to the different areas of the Student Union or to the Library, both of which offered plentiful natural light. Gary had since remembered that the basement of the library contained its own furnace for temperature control, so between the two buildings, they could provide heat for all the students reporting in so far. That included almost 1100 students from the counts provided by the RAs, most of whom were from the on campus housing. That still left a lot of students unaccounted for. Those could be anywhere – home, vacation, or even staying with off-campus boyfriend or girlfriends.
Julia began her faculty debriefing: “Thanks again, everyone, for your hard work getting the students assembled. That was a better turnout than I even hoped.” Everyone smiled back and nodded. Everyone except Timothy Maxwell. Since the last meeting, she had been told that Gary’s maintenance men had found Maxwell curled up in a puddle of his own urine next to the exit door of his office hallway this morning. Apparently he wasn’t cognizant enough to hit the emergency switch to let himself out. As a descendent of farmers and partner to a farmer, she struggled to hide her disdain for weak men. Based on her cold interactions with Maxwell, she wasn’t sure her struggle was successful.
The knowledge that he reported her every move to his handlers in DC added to her contempt. He worked for someone, probably that psychopath Clinton–Bush, to keep an eye on her activities. Oh well, if she acted too nice to him, they’d know that something was up.
Maxwell rose and lifted his voice, “We need to know what’s being done to get this power on,” he whined. “You did a lot of talking for the last hour, but I didn’t hear you say a thing about a timeline. Some of us have critical projects that are being delayed. How am I supposed to be in contact with people leaving the planet when I can’t even get my office light on?”
“Dr. Maxwell, I appreciate the position you’re in,” Julia replied, “but I assure you, I told everyone everything I know during the meeting. There is no power anywhere in town. It’s not just here.”
Maxwell rolled his eyes with a disgusted look.
Julia noticed the Applied Sciences staff giggling and laughing among themselves. All the men and women representing the department taught the hands-on practical disciplines now at the core of Old Main College. Agriculture, Construction Management, Industrial Design and a few other majors formed the backbone of her ten-year plan. Julia spent years recruiting the top minds in those disciplines willing to come out to this remote place and help her build something good. Old Main was surrounded by some of the best farm ground in the world, so that helped her Agriculture emphasis, even if there wasn't much of a market for agriculture anymore. The fact that she was serious about the practical side was an attraction to others. The only drawback to folks like those was their very direct nature. Most didn’t really care what someone like Timothy Maxwell thought of them, and they certainly weren’t afraid to show it.
Julia gave a couple of them the “shut up, you’re not helping” look, which to their credit they tried to comply with.
“I've sent Campus Police officers to track down some city officials to see if they have any news to share. Until they get back, I apologize that I don’t know more. One officer made it back already. He reported that there is currently no one at City Hall, and there are two house fires burning in town with no fire equipment on scene,” Julia told them.
That got the Applied Science staff’s attention. House fires were deadly serious to construction types, especially when there was no power. Julia could see the concern, and the minds trying to figure out where the Fire Department might be.
“There’s nothing we can do for them right now, but as you probably know, we are nearing lunchtime, and we have a group of young people who still haven’t eaten breakfast. I’m sure many of you haven’t either. Vending machines, the ones that aren’t entirely electric, have kept some hunger at bay, but I’m afraid that won’t last long.
“Ruth,” Julia said to the Director of Campus Food Services, “we are all at your disposal to help get food prepared for a lunch. What can we do to help?”
Julia heard the groans from staff used to having lunch delivered to their offices. She could just imagine the thoughts in their heads: I have an advanced degree, and I’m supposed to be cafeteria staff?
“I want to remind everyone that the students are why we are here, not the other way around,” Julia scolded. “Ruth, how are we set for food?”
“Well, we can feed everyone a regular menu today. Then we’ll have to start getting a little creative after that. Our Monday morning supply truck still hasn’t showed up. And obviously I can’t call to see what time it will get here,” Ruth Alvarez replied.
Ruth had been Director here at the college for thirteen years. Eight of those years she served as an employee of the College, and five as an employee of Facility Food Service, a huge company that outsourced cafeteria service for thousands of colleges and businesses nationwide.
Julia considered Ruth’s reply for a moment, and then found herself stuttering for her next questions. Her eyes found Dr. Andrew Keen, the Dean of the College of Agriculture. Keen was a fraternity brother of her husband and an expert in the impact of Just In Time inventory systems on the supply chain of the country. He was the type that would warn everyone who knew him about the dangers of the centralized food systems.
Dr. Keen was an expert in the “nine meals from chaos” theory. That theory held that if there were ever a disruption in the food supply of America, all it would take was about three days, or approximately nine meals, for the fabric of society to break down. Very few American households held more than a day or two of food in their cabinets or refrigerators. If the store shelves, or the restaurants, ran out of food because of a disruption, what would people do? Of course, that was all theoretical. Besides buying a few extra cans of corn or beans for the pantry, even Dr. Keen did little to prepare for a situation such as this.
Now Julia and Andrew Keen both had that same empty pit in the bottom of their stomach. What if the food supply truck didn’t get here today? Or tomorrow? Julia hadn’t anticipated such a grim answer from Ruth. She mentally kicked herself for asking a question in public that she didn’t already know the answer to.
Julia needed to say something before everyone else sensed something was wrong, “Ruth, I’m sorry. I guess I was expecting us to have a bit more food than that on hand.”
“I’m sorry, President Ruff. But since FFS, our supply company, took over, they don’t like to have more inventory than absolutely necessary. We run a skeleton staff and reduced menu on the weekends, and then get our truck on Monday just as we’re running out. We always have plenty for Monday, and then a new batch of menu items on Tuesday. Helps keep everything fresh,” Ruth assured her. “I'm sure the truck will be here any minute. The central warehouse knows we can’t get by without it.”
“Where is that central warehouse located?” Andrew Keen asked.
“I believe it’s over by the Illinois University campus. There’s thousands of more students there. They bring in the bulk shipments to the main hub over the weekend for distribution and then ship it out on Mondays,” Ruth replied.
Julia and Andrew met again in a glance. Oh my Lord, what now?
A deeper fear began to well up inside Julia. As a Senator, she had served on an obscure committee on cyber–attack and electromagnetic pulse weapons and their impact on the power grid. The Solar Storms made that fear a reality, but never as an all–encompassing shutdown that was originally feared. The Storms simply made things more difficult, but the resilience of America fought through those. The GRAPEVINE artificial intelligence system was supposed to handle those anyway.
All the symptoms and signs of a total grid collapse were here now. No cell phones, no power anywhere, and no contact from authorities. The only thing that didn’t match an EMP attack was that cars were still oper
ating. Well, most cars. None of their electric campus cars were working; they wouldn’t even boot up, according to Gary’s staff. All College vehicles were mandated by federal law to be electric now, with the only exception being maintenance vehicles. Gary and Julia had hidden several old diesel trucks off the official inventory lists. Gary insisted that these were the only ones that could do the heavy work needed. They were hidden out at the College farms, with the red hawk college logos removed.
Julia had to figure out how to get some more food for her students. What caused this could be figured out and debated later. But instinct told her they must move quickly.
“Ruth, what happens when we need some extra food? Like if we mistakenly run short or need something for a special occasion?” Julia asked.
Ruth seemed a little put off by the question, as though she might in some way miscalculate the needs for the week.
But luckily for Julia, she answered anyway. “Occasionally, we’ll go downtown to Baker’s Supply. That’s who we used to order everything from before we contracted with FFS. They still have some restaurant customers here in town that don’t outsource. So they keep quite a bit on hand. They were big boosters of our Athletic Department at one time. So we still try to support them with what little we can.”
Julia hesitated for a moment; she was still learning mistakes the previous administration blundered through. That was five years ago. “Ruth, I’m going to give you a blank purchase order. Will they take those there? I want you to tell Baker’s that they are now our primary supplier again, and that we will be terminating our contract with FFS as soon as possible. Don’t worry, you will keep your job, but as an employee of this College again.”
Ruth’s jaw dropped, and it took a moment for her to regain her composure.
“Gary, please take whatever staff you need and retrieve the trucks from the farms. I need you back here with me after that, but take the football team with you. I’m sorry, Coach is that ok with you?” Julia said as she looked over at Parker Moseley, the veteran coach of the football team.
“Of course, Madame President, we would be happy to be of service,” Moseley replied.
“Gather the men and meet back here ASAP,” Moseley nodded to the three burly team captains who flanked him, and they quickly moved off.
Ruth regained her composure and now started with questions. “Are you sure we can do that, Julia?” Ruth dropped all formality now. “It took a year for that contract with FFS to be negotiated. Even the Board of Trustees had to approve it.”
“I understand your concern, Ruth,” Julia assured her, “but I have the backing of the Board in matters of pressing concern, and am authorized to act under the emergency action provision placed in the College constitution when I became President. This qualifies, and if need be we’ll have the discussion with the Board later. In the meantime, I implore you to move quickly. Get to Baker’s, and buy everything you think we’ll need to feed these kids and the staff. Name a person to be in charge here for the preparation of the meal for the day. We’re going to have a limited menu. What’s one thing that we can make a lot of and will that make our supplies last?”
“Pasta, that always works,” Ruth’s tone softened. “I’ll get down to Baker’s right now and start the process. Coach, will you meet me down there with your guys?”
“You got it, Ruth,” Coach Moseley replied. Moseley was the kind of man to act on the orders of someone he trusted.
“All right, everyone,” Julia projected in her power voice again, “we have some tasks to accomplish. Ruth’s staff is in charge of our meal preparations, and for the next few hours we’re all working for them. Unless Gary has a pressing need for you, let’s get to work.”
As staff members filed into the Student Union kitchen or out the door with Gary’s Facilities staff, Julia made a mental note of who seemed likely to bolt for home as soon as no one was looking. She had to get some of them home as soon as possible to check on families. Would they come back to work tomorrow if the power was still out? Some definitely would. She knew she could count on most the Applied Science staff at least.
Julia prepared to walk into the kitchen to help when the Chief of Campus Police approached. The look on his face told her what she already knew was happening.
“That settles it,” she said to the Chief before he uttered a word. “We’re going to have to plan for a long outage. Tell your men to gather here as quickly as possible, and bring whatever firearms they have, personal or professional. Do any of them have families?”
“A couple do, Madame President. And I do, too,” Chief Danny Cable replied.
“I know, Chief. Your kids go to school with my youngest. If you want to bring them here, you’re more than welcome. I have to tell you, Chief, this is a small town, but I’m afraid that a family alone is going to be in a difficult spot in a few days. And I know that your professionalism won’t allow you to abandon these kids on campus,” Julia said to him, half assuring and half imploring.
“I will do my duty, just like I know you will. I’ll talk to my wife about it as soon as I get the men gathered and into a rotation. I’ve got four full-timers, and then we’ve got the Student Rangers. You know, the kids who volunteer to help patrol campus for us. I’ve got nineteen trained,” Chief Cable explained.
“That’s great, Chief,” Julia said. “Do what you need to do to organize them how you see fit. Just please keep me posted. Your office is already here in the Union, right? Is it ok if I stop by in a couple of hours to get an update? I’ll have people asking and I want to make sure I can support your plans.”
Should I be honest with what I believe is going on? No, better to keep everyone from panicking. Besides, the students needed their help.
As the Chief hurried away, Julia had one more important conversation. Rebekah hung back, wanting to speak not just as daughter and mom, but also as Head Resident Assistant and College President.
Julia began first: “I’m not even going to ask if the students are informed and organized in shifts. I already know that’s all done. I have complete faith in you.”
“You better, since you trained me, right?” Rebekah smiled. “'Failure of the troops means failure of command,' I think I heard someone say a million times. It’s bad, isn’t it, Mom? Not like ‘what a pain' bad but end of the world as we know it bad?”
Julia smiled back. “I don’t think we can declare the end of times just yet, beloved daughter. But yes, I do believe this is probably more than just a run-of-the-mill power outage. I hope with all my heart that I will be reprimanded by the Board for overreacting and the faculty will talk about how I’m a conspiracy nut not worthy of being in higher education! But every instinct I have tells me that we have to move quickly, or this is going to get really bad for our students. Remember those discussions that Dad and I used to have with you about how to survive at the farm without outside help? I’m afraid those discussions just went beyond hypothetical.”
Julia and Rebekah stared at each other for a moment. They looked at each other as mother and daughter, leader and subordinate, maybe even as two best friends.
“Bek, I need you to go out to the farm and tell Dad I believe this is a complete grid-down situation. He’ll understand what that means. And I’ll explain it all to you, too, when you get back. I can’t leave this building or else every other staff member will fade away. I’ve got to stay here, maybe for days. But you’ve got your RAs all set with the schedule, so you can sneak away for a couple hours.
“I need you to go right now. And tell him exactly what I said, 'complete grid down situation.' Your brothers and sisters are at home so there’s no one else here in town to worry about. Gather my personal items and a couple changes of clothes for me. Tell Dad I love him and I’ll try my best to keep him posted. Tell him to think about bringing in the church family and our cousins and telling them what I think is happening. OK? Please be careful. By tonigh
t, you probably won’t want to be on the road alone, so don’t hang around the house even though you’ll want to. Dad’s going to understand perfectly.”
As Rebekah nodded and began to hurry away, Julia stopped her one more time.
“Bek, you better grab two pistols out of the safe. One for you and one me.”