Time Storm Shockwave

by Juliann Farnsworth

  Stewart raised an eyebrow.

  “Malagasy”—she answered—“sure.”

  Stewart’s mouth dropped.

  “Listen—” Mark was speaking rapidly “—I finally found a connection, and I can read Madagascar on a line at the bottom of the screen, but I have no idea what they are saying.”

  “Why in the world do you care what someone in Madagascar is saying?” Stewart asked.

  “I don’t have time to explain”—Mark motioned—“just follow me.”

  The three went down to his stateroom.

  “What is—” Stewart began.

  Mark cut him off, “Shush, let her listen.”

  Ashlyn watched for a second, and then informed them, “It’s some kind of news show. They are talking about—” she listened again “—more people vanishing with no explanation.” She shook her head, bewildered.

  “Are you sure you are translating that correctly?” Mark asked.

  “Sure, it’s perfectly clear; I mean the language is, but what they are saying doesn’t make …wait—” she focused her attention again “—they think the cause of some downed airplane near Portugal was that the island the plane was supposed to land on actually moved?”

  “That can’t be right—” Stewart interrupted “—Mark do you believe this? That makes less sense than an underwater pyramid.”

  “Be quiet,” Mark said.

  Ashlyn held up her hand to block out their interference. “In other news—” she continued “—authorities report that they still have no information on why they have ….”

  She didn’t finish, but her expression changed visibly. She listened intently until the news story ended, and the show changed. She continued to stare at the screen, but now her brow was furrowed, and she reached up and rubbed her chin.

  “What …what is it? …What did they say?” Mark prodded.

  She faced him slowly.

  “What did they say?” he demanded.

  Ashlyn shook her head in disbelief. “They said they still don’t know why the world has lost all communications with the United States, and Canada.”

  “Will you guys please tell me what is going on?—” Stewart asked completely lost “—How do you know that language. You’re translation doesn’t sound …Well, it can’t be right.”

  “Apparently, that EMP last night—” she motioned with her hands “—the one that knocked out Mark’s rebreather and the lights was from something really bad. The entire world has lost communication with almost all of North America, including Internet, phone, and satellite communications.”

  Mark sat down on the bed, nearly missing it.

  “What do you mean …lost communication?” Stewart asked bewildered, but she didn’t answer and Mark had gone silent.

  “Maybe—” Mark finally spoke “—well …maybe it’s not there anymore.”

  “Do you mean—” Stewart’s face drained of color “—the EMP was from a nuclear war or ….” he drifted off and they all stood there silent, contemplating the implications.

  After a few minutes, Mark began slowly, “I don’t think so, an accident maybe, but a war? No, there would be more evidence of that; besides, who would the war have been with, Canada? They didn’t mention anything about other countries, right?”

  She nodded her affirmation.

  “I suspect it has more to do with the dramatic solar activity we have been experiencing,” he suggested.

  “Could that stop even Internet communications?” she asked.

  “No, I don’t think that would be possible. However, if the EMP was massive enough, it could have knocked out many of the Internet relay stations making it nearly impossible to connect—temporarily.”

  “Those systems are tremendously redundant—” Stewart disagreed “—and I don’t think an EMP could knock out enough of them.”

  Mark opened his mouth and shook his head in dismay. “I don’t have any plausible explanation, but I know that the solar storms we have been having have been more intense than any since we’ve had electronic communications. There’s no way to know what problems they might cause. Plus, we could have lost some satellites. That is always a danger with bad space weather.”

  “I suppose you’re right”—Stewart conceded—“if the electric grid was knocked out, plus a few satellites, maybe it would account for no Internet.”

  Ashlyn looked more hopeful. “If that were the case then they would just have to wait until they get the power back on, right?”

  Mark met her eyes. “If the grid got knocked out that completely it might realistically take years to get it back up—” he let out a deep breath “—we’ll just have to wait and see.”

  ***

  The extreme disasters the night before had multiplied into a domino effect of unstoppable and unforeseen events, which no amount of preparation could have forestalled. Beyond the nuclear plant meltdowns, and the nuclear blast in Florida, the cascade of calamities continued. Some adjacent chemical building explosions created a floating torrent of destruction from the infamous Chemical Alley in New Jersey, so named for the large amount of dangerous chemicals produced there.

  Massive amounts of chlorine gas erupted into the air. Storms generated from the sudden, random changes from low pressure to high pressure pushed the noxious clouds hundreds of miles to the southwest, raining down death, destruction, and indescribable devastation on the masses. Its path led it directly over Washington, D.C., and with ruthless disregard for political power or prestige, it left the bulk of the remaining United States government dead or dying.

  ***

  The three of them spent the day trying to obtain information. The reports they could get through the static were similar from one country to the next, and when evening came, the Aurora Borealis shone even more brilliantly than it had the night before. Mark suggested that it was evidence of an even stronger solar flare and might explain the loss of communications.

  Not one of them was completely convinced that a solar flare’s electromagnetic interference could cause such a massive communications blackout. However, there seemed nothing better to do than to wait it out and hope that it would pass within a day or two. Their dive in search of the pyramid would help pass the time, and if it truly did have something to do with the reason Dierdra was trying to kill Mark, time was of the essence.

  The next morning dawned clear and beautiful. The sea was calm and incredibly clear, leaving them with only one difficult decision. Who would dive with Mark first? The circuits of the rebreather unit Mark had been using during the EMP had been fried beyond repair. However, he had two more that were still intact.

  Because of the nature of his research and his relatively unlimited resources, most of the electronic equipment Mark had on the yacht was housed in a customized Faraday cage. He also had installed high voltage, instant breakers that were made specifically for EMPs.

  Stewart had told him on more than one occasion that Mark was over-prepared, but he always used the same argument, “There is no such thing as over-prepared. It’s like being over-qualified, it isn‘t real. The nature of my research leaves me vulnerable to electromagnetic anomalies and I don‘t want to lose my equipment.”

  After that, he would rant about society’s ills for an hour; there was no stopping him. Stewart had learned quickly to avoid the topic. Having only two rebreathers presented a problem now because the three of them could not dive all at once and they had no time to spare. Stewart dove with Mark first, and it took them only thirty minutes to locate the controversial pyramid. The two stayed in constant contact with Ashlyn. Stewart was the first on the radio to report to her.

  The radio signals had more static than usual, but she could hear them. “I can’t believe it Ashlyn, Mark was right! I don’t see what else it could be.”

  “I wish I was down there. Hurry up you guys”—Ashlyn prodded—“I want to trade places.”

  Mark echoed Stewart’s excitement, “You have got to see this! There ought to be coral growing on it, but ther
e isn’t. It seems to be smooth on the surface, almost like glass.”

  “You’re right”—Stewart’s excited voice boomed over the radio—“that can’t be naturally occurring.”

  Is there any evidence of the culture who built it?” Ashlyn asked.

  “No”—Mark answered—“only the top few feet is exposed. That might explain why no one has previously noticed it.”

  “Mark, didn’t you say that Dierdra’s reason for wanting to kill you was so that you couldn’t find what was down there?—” Ashlyn asked perplexed “—I don’t see how this could be what she was talking about, maybe they don’t know about this.”

  “That seems a little too coincidental to me. News of a pyramid would be huge, but …you’re right, I don’t think they would kill anyone over it—” Mark hesitated “—I don’t see how any of this fits together.”

  “There has to be something else”—she argued—“NP is into technology, not archeology. We have the GPS coordinates. Why don’t we get out of here? Maybe we can figure it out with your notes. Dierdra could be back anytime, and the pyramid can wait.”

  The men were too excited about it to care anymore, and didn’t budge from the spot—her arguments made no difference.

  Another hour had passed. “Mark,” Ashlyn was adamant, “we need to get out of here! Dierdra promised to return and kill you, and I’m sure she meant it. I don’t see how this could be so important to them.”

  “Maybe you are right”—Mark said—“but it adds up with the research I have been doing. I’m willing to leave, but you’ve have to come down and see this first. Stewart is on his way up.”

  “Alright”—she conceded—“just make sure that Stewart doesn’t come up too fast.”

  “Hey, Ashlyn, I’ve been diving here for a while. I know what I’m doing.

  “I know, sorry”—she responded—“I’m just nervous.”

  ***

  Ashlyn waited impatiently until Stewart finally surfaced—he was all smiles. Entering the vivid, blue water, she knew it would be easy to find Mark. The water was almost perfectly clear. She had dived many times in previous years, but had only used standard scuba gear until she met him. She had come to love the rebreather system and wanted one for herself, though their price might prove a deterrent.

  There wasn’t anything unusual about her descent. However, she couldn’t help being amazed, even now, at how incredibly clear the water was. In most areas, visibility was about one hundred feet, which made it possible to see him and still see the ship above her.

  The feeling was incredible. Having a full-face mask made it easier to concentrate on her surroundings. On the other hand, it was strange; she was accustomed to the sound of bubbling as she exhaled. The helmets created an eerie quiet. It was great to be able to communicate with the others via the voice activated radio network.

  They wore wetsuits to prevent hypothermia even though it wasn’t terribly cold. Now that she was under the water, she was grateful for the warmth. Though the water in the Bahamas never dropped too low to dive a little, it did get rather uncomfortable in the winter. It was now November first. The water was seventy-five degrees, not bad on the surface, but it would be much colder down below.

  She passed through a large school of fish on her way. She reached out to touch them but only managed to feel one slide against her hand. They were skittish and turned away in sudden unison. It didn’t take long to reach the bottom with her weight-belt pulling her. She glanced up, making sure that she could still find the yacht. The clarity of the water helped the sun to penetrate through it easily.

  The ocean was teaming with life, even here away from any coral reefs. She began crossing the short distance to where Mark was still carefully removing silt from the object. Even with the several yards she had yet to cross, she could easily see that he had been right. It could be nothing else but the tip of a pyramid. She stopped abruptly when a shark passed between the two of them.

  “Mark?”

  He looked over and motioned with his hand, as well as saying over the comm. system, “Come on! What are you waiting for?”

  She pointed to the shark. As an experienced diver, she knew that she was probably in no real danger. She held her ground anyway, frozen momentarily by human nature.

  “There’s a shark, did you notice it?”

  He glanced at it, unconcerned, “Actually there are several. Sharks have a natural tendency to detect electromagnetic fields, but it’s only a lemon shark, and they tend to be more docile than some of the other types.”

  She didn’t find his words tremendously comforting; however, the thought of Dierdra’s return propelled her forward. Ashlyn tried not to disturb the ten-foot animal. Once she got a little closer, she did indeed notice that there was more than one circling the area. She was not a timorous person, but she found herself trying to calm her breathing, hyperventilating under a hundred feet of water was not a smart idea.

  Suddenly, the sharks left the area as if they were spooked by something.

  “Did you see that?”

  Stewart, monitoring the conversation from above, interjected, “That happened before; I’m not sure what they are afraid of.”

  Mark studied one of his meters and answered them both, “The electromagnetic field originating from this spot fluctuates; it just spiked.”

  “But I thought you said they were attracted to electromagnetic fields?”

  “They are—” he motioned for her to come the rest of the way “—they won’t be back for a while.”

  “How do you know?” she asked just as she reached his position.

  “Shark electromagnetic senses are kind of like a dog’s ability to smell. A little attracts them. A lot can be unpleasant to them.”

  Her adrenaline level was way over its normal level from worrying about Dierdra—this wasn’t helping. However, Ashlyn began gently wiping away the sediment, copying his behavior. He had been absolutely correct; the pyramid was smooth, almost like glass, with only about four feet exposed.

  “Why would a pyramid be emitting electromagnetic energy?” she asked.

  Stewart piped in on the comm., “It’s probably not coming from the pyramid, just near it.”

  “Actually it is Stewart—” Mark said flatly “—at least one scientist has measured electromagnetic energy coming out of the top of the pyramid at Giza.”

  “You’re kidding,” she exclaimed.

  “Not at all”—he responded—“I watched a documentary about it once. The hypothesis was that the pyramids had nothing to do with tombs. There actually isn’t any evidence inside them to support the burial theory, but you know how scientists are.”

  “You mean like you—” Stewart joked over the radio “—what was the scientist’s name? I mean the one who measured the energy?”

  “To be honest, I don’t remember”—Mark admitted—“I watch a lot of documentaries. I just found it interesting. The Nile River used to flow much closer to the pyramids, and there are networks of passageways underneath the ground there. They compared it to a design by Nicola Tesla, which produced some kind of free energy. We don’t really understand much about it.”

  “It seems as if that would be easy enough to validate. Why don’t they just send someone else up to confirm his measurement?” she asked.

  “The government there is very protective of their historical sites and won’t give a permit for further investigation. Anyway, it probably doesn’t have anything to do with this”—he focused more intently on what he was doing—“I was just throwing out the thought.”

  He noticed a lionfish that was hovering near where she was working. He pointed it out to her and told her not to touch it because of its venomous spines. She had seen one before, although it had been a different color. This one was about a foot in length and orange with black stripes.

  “Maybe it should be called a tiger fish,” She suggested, but he didn’t comment.

  He seemed intently focused on some reading on a piece of equipment he was u
sing. She was anxious to get out of there, and it didn’t seem to her that there was much more to see.

  “Mark we need to go—” she reminded him, but he was not listening “—maybe I should go skinny dipping down here,” she said to see if he was listening to her at all.

  He glanced at her for a second but didn’t respond.

  Stewart, still on the radio, reminded her of that fact.

  “I was only joking Stewart, just trying to speed Mark along.”

  He responded to that, “You know, I could have been down here all day yesterday, but you—”

  “I don’t think this is the time or place for an argument.”

  “—I’m just saying.”

  There was no reason to stay. Stewart had taken pictures while he was under, and carefully documented the find.

  “So Mark, are you planning to dig the whole thing out with your hands?”

  His smirk was clearly visible through his facemask.

  Ashlyn couldn’t see the value of removing the silt slowly when his life was on the line. “I’m going to look around and see if there is anything here that Dierdra would be more likely to be trying to keep you from finding.”

  “Okay”—he said absently—“but don’t go too far. I don’t want to lose you.”

  Chapter 11

  If you shut up truth and bury it under the ground, it will but grow, and

  gather to itself such explosive power that the day it bursts through, it will

  blow up everything in its way. — Émile Zola

  ~

  Ashlyn headed toward what appeared to be a drop off in the sea floor. It was south, about fifty-feet ahead of her. The seabed had many sudden changes in elevation. She wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of falling off an underwater cliff. Her weight-belt was necessarily heavy due to the depth she was diving, and the compression of her neoprene wetsuit was now causing a slight buoyancy problem—the deeper she went, the heavier she would become. In an emergency, she could always drop her belt, but that course of action might cause her to ascend too rapidly. Cautiously, she looked over the edge.