In truth, the deadline was more symbolic than actionable and wholly arbitrary on Vera’s part. She had skipped watching any coverage of Obama’s first inauguration back in 2009. She just didn’t have the stomach for it, all the speechifying, the triumphant parade down Pennsylvania Avenue, the inaugural balls. She had lost, she and the senator. It was supposed to have been their big day, their parade, the beginning of their administration. Not his, not that . . . black Muslim Kenyan pretender to the office.
“It’s getting late,” Vera said, stifling a yawn. “Let’s wrap things up. Major Hidalgo, have you spoken to Lieutenant General Kato about deploying the Alaska National Guard?”
“Yes, ma’am, I have,” the officer said. He spoke a little hesitantly, as if unsure why he’d been assigned to this committee in the first place. “General Kato reiterates the provisional nature of a state governor’s authority over National Guard assets. As there is no imminent threat or emergent crisis currently in effect anywhere in the state of Alaska, a governor’s deployment of those assets is severely curtailed.”
“But the RAC program is designed to pre-position our resources before a crisis begins. What good is it to prepare after the crisis has already begun? In the event of even a minor disruption in transportation or communication, Alaska will be cut off and left high and dry. Did you tell that to the general?”
“Yes, ma’am, I did. He said your concern is real but that it’s a matter better suited to the mandate of FEMA, not the National Guard.”
“FEMA,” Vera said, almost as a curse. “We’d be better off shooting ourselves in the foot than relying on that boondoggle.”
“Amen to that,” Colonel Swayne said from across the table.
“Speaking of which,” Kris Derry added, “I spoke with Senate leadership yesterday. There is zero appetite in Juneau to fund a costly new project such as this without prior analysis and public input first.” Kris rolled her eyes. “That said, according to the AG, there appears to be enough enabling law in place for you to establish the centers without legislative action.”
Vera shook her head. “What good is establishing regional centers without the funds to stock them, staff them, locate them?” She turned to her departmental commissioners. “I need five million dollars to get started. I want you to find at least that much in your budgets that we can redirect to the RACs. In cash or kind. Be creative if you hav’ta.”
UPSTAIRS IN BED, trying to unwind with a little late-night TV, Vera replayed the meeting in her head, trying to determine which of her subordinates were truly on her side and which were only playing along. Kris, Colonel Swayne, and of course her husband were staunchly loyal. She could count on them in any situation. The commissioners not so much. They seemed more opportunistic than loyal, if she was honest about it. The Army major was an outright obstructionist. Judge Milliner? The judge had always impressed her as an ideologue. But since his ideology more or less matched her own, she decided they might make good allies.
Which reminded her — she should have asked the judge to look into the laws governing use of the National Guard to see if they were as restricted as Major Hidalgo seemed to indicate. Surely, there must be some loophole that she could take advantage of to permit her to activate them to help establish her RACs. Otherwise, she’d be forced to rely on the Alaska State Defense Force and Swayne’s Alaska Liberty Force, neither of which could supply the needed manpower and equipment, which would cost her state money she did not have.
The bedroom door flew open, and Bradd barged in and sprinted to the closet. “Get up! Get up!” he yelled. He was dressed for the outdoors.
“What’s wrong? Is the house on fire?”
“No, but the sky is.”
He flung one of her track suits at her, dashed to the French doors, and tore open the curtains.
“Bradd, what is —?”
He came to the bed, picked her up, and carried her to the French doors. One of the things she loved about him was his preference for action over talk.
“Look! Just look at it!”
He was right; the sky was on fire.
Taiga burst into the room wearing her winter coat over her pajamas. She’d brought her mother a hat, boots, and a snowmachine jumpsuit. Vera slipped them on and joined her family on the balcony where they huddled in the cold to watch the most bizarre northern lights they’d ever seen.
Instead of the usual aurora, like a milky green curtain fluttering in the solar breeze, these lights appeared hard and bright, like white-hot wires that were wound around the dome of the sky. Here and there the lines crossed, causing explosions of rainbow-colored sparks that rained down upon the Earth.
And all of this with no sound effects, except for the shouts of lakeside neighbors watching from their porches and decks.
Taiga was shivering, her voice all tight and screechy. “Is this the end? Is this it?”
“I don’t know,” her dad said, wrapping his arm around her. “But pray like it is.”
“Yes, pray,” said her mother, “but don’t be afraid. This isn’t the end. The Bible doesn’t describe the end as anything like this.”
Before long, the strange wires spread south to cover the entire sky. Night became day, and an oppressive day at that, forcing the Tetlins to shield their eyes from its glare.
There was a green flash, and another, and then countless more. Little by little the sky dimmed and turned a flat, smooth tint of orange. The family’s upturned faces, the snow-covered ice on the lake, the whole countryside was cast in orange. For the longest time — orange. And then the orange faded too and stars poked through and the familiar black nighttime sky returned. The otherworldly event was over, and we survived.
BROADCAST AND CABLE TV were down. Taiga sat at the dining room table monitoring Twitter on her phone. Vera was upstairs searching her Bible. Bradd was in the kitchen heating up leftovers for a late-night snack. Around 2:00 a.m., Colonel Swayne called and Bradd put him on speakerphone so Taiga could hear.
The upshot is no one knows for sure, and there’s a whole lot of stupid rumors flying around, but the best guess I’ve heard so far is that it was a once-in-a-thousand-year solar storm of some sort. A few power grids are reported to be fried and most near-Earth satellites are down, though not permanently, or at least they’re succeeding in rebooting most of them. GPS and other GEO satellites seem unaffected. The fiber optics networks seem unaffected but are very congested under increased traffic.
Bradd said, “Any chance it was a terrorist attack?”
Not likely that any group, or government, or anybody could pull off a stunt like that. I mean, it was seen all over the globe, even on the daytime side. It outshone the sun.
“Anybody killed?”
Hard to say. Like I said, rumors are flying. People are claiming Baghdad and Ankara are burning, but that’s unconfirmed. That all aircraft in the air crashed, but again, who knows for sure? About the only thing people seem to agree on is what to call it.
“And what’s that?”
The Skyburn.
ON HER WAY to bed, Taiga asked her dad if they were safe in the house.
“As safe as anywhere else,” he said.
“I mean, the house won’t burn down while we’re sleeping, will it?” Taiga’s recurrent nightmare since childhood involved being lost in a house fire.
“I don’t see why it would. I’ll go out and check the yard. You go to bed and don’t worry.” But he called her back a moment later. “It wouldn’t hurt to be prepared though. So before you climb into bed, sweetie, lay out some clothes in case we have to get dressed in a hurry. And haul out your bug-out bag.”
“Really? You think we might have to, you know, bug out?”
“I don’t think anything of the sort. It’s just a precaution.”
“Where would we bug out to? I mean, if the whole world is burning, where is it safe?”
Good question. They might be safer sheltering in place. “We’ll probably go to JBER,” he said, unsure of the protocol whe
n the governor of a state has to find emergency shelter. “Your bag is in the hall closet up high. Take ours out while you’re at it and leave them in the hall. Fill the canteens, and, Tye, pack your Glock and whatever clips you have.”
“I DON’T KNOW. I just don’t know.” Vera was sitting up in bed, the Bible open on her lap. “But listen to this. This is Paul in Revelation.”
I saw another strong angel coming down out of Heaven, clothed with a cloud; and the rainbow was upon his head.
Bradd said, “Could be. If you say so.”
Vera continued:
When he blows his horn, a third part of the living will fall to war and plague.
“That sounds about right.”
“You think?”
“How do I know? I’m no prophet.”
“Yes, but —” The word, prophet, brought her up short. It reminded her of something, but she wasn’t sure of what.
“What do you think it all means?” Bradd said.
“I think God is saying, ‘Time’s up, folks. Here I come, ready or not.’”
“That sounds about right.”
TS2 1.0
MY FELLOW ALASKANS, last night, the event known as Skyburn lit up the skies all around the world and shocked us by its power. We’re all still taking it in around here; I know I am. But we’re also still waiting for an official explanation from the Obama administration, or anyone else in charge, about what exactly Project Skyburn was really all about. Meanwhile, the lamestream media is gorging itself on conspiracy theories.
The governor of Alaska sat before the camera in her home studio on Lake Lola. She wore a blue business suit instead of her usual flaming red ensemble. Her hair was pulled back tightly and gathered into a bun on top of her head, sharpening the angles of her face. It was her game face.
There is at least one indisputable fact; at the very hour the Skyburn was visible to anyone in the world with eyes, the HAARP facility in the eastern part of our state, the only facility anywhere in the world capable of creating artificial auroras, suffered a catastrophic fire that completely destroyed the facility. Fortunately, there were no casualties or serious injuries involved, and for that we thank God.
We have repeatedly demanded information about the circumstances of the fire from the Obama administration and have so far not heard anything back from them. It’s essential for us to know what caused the fire and what their Project Skyburn was attempting to do. They conduct their experiments in our state in secret and put our citizens at risk, but there is no accountability for their mistakes. This is unacceptable but so typical of the current administration in Washington.
As usual, Bradd was operating the camera and sound. He had arranged for the speech to be broadcast live on KTUT-TV and FM in Anchorage, and through them to the entire state and world.
We will not pretend to know more than the experts. We will not offer our own theories about Project Skyburn, though we have a good one. But neither did you elect me to sit on my hands as forces of unknown power and destructive potential are unleashed in our state. And so, after much prayer and consultation, I have decided to act on the information at hand that we do have. Therefore, today I announce our new state initiative in emergency preparedness called the Regional Action Center Program.
The program will establish a string of Regional Action Centers, or RACs, throughout the state in order to stockpile emergency rations, water, temporary shelters, and survival and defensive supplies to protect our population from a variety of looming disasters. At first we will use existing infrastructure and facilities in six population hubs, but before the end of this year we intend to serve all of our far-flung regions.
It killed Vera not to be able to come right out and use the word Apocalypse instead of the generic “disaster,” but she still needed to convince the legislature in Juneau to open wide the purse strings. And the sooner the better.
We are prompted to take this step by the current Project Skyburn crisis, but in all honesty, it’s something the state should have done years ago. We in Alaska have our share of natural and man-made disasters from earthquakes, wildfires, tsunamis, storms, supply chain disruptions, floods, and a host of others. Alaska holds the world record for number of acres burned in one fire season, 6,600,000 acres (2,671,000 ha). Our 1964 Good Friday Earthquake was the second largest quake ever recorded on Earth, 9.2 on the Richter scale. The tsunamis it generated destroyed the Valdez harbor, killing thirty people, and completely wiped the village of Chenega off the map, killing 23 more. My question is, why haven’t we taken necessary emergency preparedness steps earlier? After all, FEMA and other Outside agencies don’t cut it up here. Good thing we Alaskans are tough, self-reliant people who know how to take care of ourselves. The RAC program is designed to bolster our self-reliance, not substitute for it, and I encourage all Alaskan families to prepare yourselves for whatever disaster may come. Work with your trusted friends, church, and community to learn how. But by all means, don’t delay, start today.
In other words, wake up and start paying attention to what’s coming down the trail, friends.
And finally, I have a word for all those viewers not blessed to be living in Alaska. According to national news reports and from the firsthand intelligence of my special advisors, it seems like Project Skyburn has caused a major uptick in the number of people preparing for an uncertain future in the Lower 48. All sorts of folks now see the need to prepare their families to survive whatever emergencies are thrown at them. I applaud and encourage them in this.
However, and let me be perfectly clear, the RAC program I just announced is for Alaskans. I do not want anyone to take this as an open invitation for doomsday preppers or anyone else to come up to Alaska expecting free handouts. In fact, don’t come up here at all. Alaska is not an easy place to live in, especially in the winter. It’s no place for amateurs.
So if you do head our way, be prepared for the most difficult living conditions of your life and bring enough resources with you to keep you going for at least a year. Seriously, stay where you are. Much safer that way.
Thank you and God bless Alaska.
THE GOVERNOR’S ADVISORS watched her address on a flatscreen in the dining room, which had become the de facto command center of the Strategic Planning Task Force. When Vera and Bradd came through from the home studio, her brain trust interrupted a noisy argument to compliment the governor on her speech.
“Thanks,” Vera said as she and Bradd took their seats. “What was all that fussing about when we came in?”
“Colonel Swayne has objections —”
“More like strong concerns,” Beaver Swayne interjected, “over your pitch at the end of your speech, Governor, for preppers to stay away from Alaska. Doomsday preppers tend to be our kind of people, and we need more of them up here, not less. I don’t —”
Vera cut him off with a raised hand. “I didn’t tell them not to come up, colonel. I just set them a high bar. I told them to come up with enough resources so they’re not a burden on us. We don’t need any more mouths to feed. Remember how during the Klondike gold rush when the Mounties wouldn’t let you cross into Canada unless you had two thousand pounds of supplies in your kit. If things get bad enough, I’d be willing to stop anyone at the border who didn’t bring a year’s supplies with them.”
She turned to Judge Milliner. “Can I do that? Can the governor of a state close its borders to American citizens? Can the governor declare martial law at will? Can I suspend the legislature?”
The judge rubbed his perennial three-day beard and chuckled. “I keep saying, gov’ner, the only way for you to accomplish everything you want to accomplish would be for the state to secede from the union in one fell swoop and swear you in as president of the nation of Alaska. Then you’ll have all the power you need.”
Vera laughed. She could never tell how serious the man was. “You’re joking, judge. We’d be a sovereign nation for all of five minutes before the combined forces of the Army, Air Force and Coast Guard curre
ntly stationed in Alaska crushed us. With prejudice. As I’m sure our military liaisons here would tell ya.”
She looked at the military men. “Speaking of which, Major Brown, what’s the news about HAARP?”
Major Brown had brought new satellite photos of the facility which he passed around the table. “The official word is that HAARP had no role whatsoever in the Skyburn.”
The others around the table voiced their disbelief, and Vera said, “Excuse me. Then how exactly did the facility get itself burned down at the same time as the Skyburn?”
“Through sabotage carried out by an Oregon radical environmental group that is convinced that HAARP is involved in the destruction of the biosphere. That their attack coincided with the Skyburn was sheer coincidence.”
“Seriously? That’s what they said?”
The major nodded. “That’s straight from the Pentagon, governor.”
The whole issue of HAARP was a puzzler. On the night of the Skyburn, Vera had felt prompted by God to lay the matter at the feet of the sixth angel of the Apocalypse. Then, when she heard about the HAARP fire, she reasoned that the Skyburn must have been caused by men. But how? And now the government’s denial of HAARP culpability only added to her certainty that the secret facility was to blame.
The matter required further prayer and investigation.
TS3 1.0
VERA WAS DUE in Juneau to conduct legislative business. She hated Juneau. She hated the rain; she hated the big, drafty governor’s mansion; most of all she hated the legislators. How much better it was to conduct the business of state from her bedroom in Wallis. Or, if push came to shove, from the state offices in Anchorage, a short drive away. But her RAC initiative had gained tremendous traction in the last few days, and she needed to be there standing over their shoulders to be sure she got what she wanted.
Glassing the Orgachine Page 13