Russell ran his hands over his scraggly face. "Jesus... this EMP business is the real deal. Who are we looking at here, Russia?"
"No idea. In all honesty, my sources warned that it was going to be a dirty bomb, not this EMP business."
"We need more people here, and we need them here soon. Not just any dipshit off the block either."
"You specified survivalists, right?" Kyle asked
"Yeah, of course," Russell said, sounding annoyed. "Survivalists, preppers, hunters, gatherers, all of that shit. I know what I'm doing here, thanks." Just as Russell wrapped up, he began to cough violently. His coughs were startling and painful sounding.
Kyle placed his hand on Russell's back and gently patted. "Russ, maybe you should take a break, you know?"
"Nonsense," Russell said, his eyes watering. "We get some more people here, and then I'll relax a little."
"At least get some sleep," Kyle said.
"I can't sleep. I've tried for the past three days."
"You're a wreck," Kyle added. Then he began walking away.
Russell propped his feet back up on the table. He grabbed the microphone and pushed the transmitter button on its base. He stared down at his ledger and repeated the written words once again into the mic, just as he had done before.
Prologue: State of the Union
Excerpt: New York Daily News Article
Year in Review 2015: Lessons Learned
By Allison Curtis
December 3, 2015
Being just one year away from a presidential election marks this as an exceptional and memorable year. Most Americans might wonder what distinguishes this year from the last one or even the one before that. It’s this: 2015 marks a precipice—fifteen years after the beginning of a new millennium, a century in which we hope to reach new heights of advancement, development, and achievement; but are such things, in this day and age, possible? It is the undaunted human spirit that drives us to break from the past and outstrip our previous accomplishments. We could say that we have reached a new advanced age. But now that we've reached this significant moment in history, the year 2015, whether or not we're any better than we were fifteen years ago, I guess, depends on who you ask.
It's hard to think of this year without recalling the overkill of primaries, campaigns, and mudslinging, because, after all, next year marks an election year, and these days, candidates like to get started early. The economy has seen little growth over the years, and the economy is at the top of most voters’ minds in a recent Reuters poll.
Unemployment has teetered above 6 or 7 percent, and some 95 million Americans are on some type of welfare or supplemental assistance. Simply put, the federal government is vaster than ever before in our nation's history. This notion of “centralized control” has been argued fiercely throughout the year, and it’s hard to say how the role of government will be shaped at the end of the day: as a limited entity or as a more socialized one.
Americans have expressed strong disapproval on the foreign and domestic policies of both political parties. Strangely enough, they also support the status quo, which is evident in the lack of incumbent turnover in recent elections. This paradox perpetuates the political stagnation that exists in Washington today and the unlikelihood that anything will change anytime soon. A country can survive its poor leaders, but it cannot survive a majority of its population that continues to elect those leaders.
Unfortunately, the worst of things are steadily on the rise. Crony capitalism is alive and well as is evident in the tainted and unclear goals of the Federal Reserve and Commerce Department. Big business is where it's at, unless, of course, you aren't willing to play Washington's game. What of rising unemployment? The increasing costs of food and power? An all-around drop in our standard of living? What of the decades of unprecedented expansion of federal powers? Regardless of political affiliation and/or ideology, we have to ask ourselves what lessons need to be learned here, if any. And trust me, there are plenty. We will soon reach a breaking point. Is it possible for this to happen overnight or will it happen over years, like a gradual decline? The question we must ask ourselves is this: is it happening before our very eyes?
On the international front, things have never been worse. As sophisticated and brutal terrorist groups seize lands indiscriminately throughout the Middle East, China expands its muscle across Asia, while Russia extends its reach within familiar Cold War borders through ostentatious power grabs. What's worse, all of these events and more garner a baffling lack of response from the international community.
Perhaps for me, as a journalist, it’s the lack of words that is the most surprising. The world is becoming less and less safe a place in which journalists can travel to cover a story. The ability to report the issues, and to inform our readers of what is going on in the world, feels at stake. I hope the culmination of these events and the path that we're on as a nation improves within the New Year. I hope that things change for the better for us all, and that future generations won't have to live in times of such uncertainty and fear. I am hopeful because we are alive. And the great thing about being alive, they say, is that each day can offers a blank slate and a fresh start.
*Allison Curtis was later fired from the New York Daily News and her editorial pulled from circulation. This was recently published from an anonymous screen capture.
Day of the Dead
On the morning of September 21, 2020, the power went out across the state of Georgia and possibly across the entire nation in a matter of seconds. Nothing was clear to anyone in those immediate few short minutes of absolute frustration and anger. When technological devices didn't work the way they should, patience was a virtue shown only by a few. And when the loss of power, communications, and mobility occurred systematically without warning, the chances of maintaining order would grow slimmer by the day. The residents of Georgia hadn't a clue of what had caused the massive statewide blackout.
It couldn't have been a storm. Morning temperatures were nearing the nineties, and there were few clouds in the sky. A downed power line, blown transformer, or even an entire power grid shut down still wouldn't explain the loss of cell phone, smartphone, tablet, or computer accessibility. It wouldn't explain vehicles of all makes and models suddenly stopping mid-travel, unable to restart. It wouldn't explain the sudden uselessness of any device with a simple electronic component. Even more confusing, some devices, such as antique cars and older electronics, still operated, and they became hot commodities overall.
On the first day, those sitting in their living rooms suddenly without power, behind the wheel, or working at their office desks, staring into blank screens, were in an abject state of denial. Others, who made the connection, correctly attributed the effects to an aerial nuclear strike. Not the type of attack that vaporizes mass populations, but something that couldn't be seen or felt. These “others” attributed the catastrophic scenario before them as the effects of an electromagnetic pulse, an EMP.
A certain theory was that several nuclear high-altitude electromagnetic pulse warheads, known as HEMP devices, had been detonated hundreds of kilometers above their towns and cities. The goal of such an attack seemed to be the final push toward the collapse of a society already on the brink, as indicated by the civil unrest that existed at the time. By 2020, there was little concept of what constituted the “worst” of times. People had been told for so long that things were getting better, and when things didn't, they were then told that “better” simply meant as good as it gets; meaning that things were not going to improve, but they were probably not going to get any worse.
Though these semantics had little meaning to those living paycheck to paycheck, and despite the high costs of basic necessities, the status quo remained and the new way of governance—massive dependency—soon become the only way. There were those, of course, who were unaffected by everything. There were also those apathetic, or oblivious, to anything occurring outside their personal bubbles. And then there were those who simpl
y didn't care. Through the years, however, a growing movement that leaned toward self-sufficiency and preparation had been growing at an astounding rate.
These were the people, “the preppers,” who chose to plan and prepare for what they saw as an inevitable breakdown. They were individuals with families—husbands, wives, and children—who desired to remain strong and united in times of peril. Above all, they just wished to survive the times they lived in with independent, resourceful living, and basic know-how. Despite the differences in thinking among all different types of people throughout the United States, everyone would be affected equally on September 22. In a matter of seconds, they would be without solace from the devices they had been accustomed to rely on.
Monday, September 21, 2020, 9:05 a.m., Columbus, Georgia
The unimaginable happened at the North Highlands Hydroelectric Plant on a day of the week when no one expected anything more challenging than figuring out what to eat for lunch. Todd Broderick, a plant supervisor, was standing by a series of large 1,000-megawatt generators, wearing his protective red headphones and hard hat, when his attention was drawn to something out of the ordinary. A technician had called out to him from across the room, pointing out that the generators were no longer operational. An hour later, as far as everyone could tell, every generator and transformer in the entire plant had wound down to a dead silence. Todd ran to his office to contact the authorities and subsequently retrieve his smartphone. He soon noticed that his holographic computer screen was blank. Everything seemed consistent with a blackout until he retrieved his thin iPhone and noticed it was dead as well. It was nothing particularly alarming, but strange nonetheless. But by the time Todd had exited the plant to start his car, he noticed that the power outage was anything but routine. His failed attempts to start his four-door Suzuki XL7 were most troubling of all. Then the pieces began to fall into place.
Todd had been briefed on the scenario that was unraveling before him multiple times. What he was experiencing seemed evident: it was the aftermath of an EMP. Todd wondered how such a thing was possible. He worked at a hydroelectric plant, which should have been immune. He struggled to remember any precautionary measures that had been taken to prevent the effects of an EMP on the plant.
Whatever precautions they did take weren't enough to prevent a total shutdown in the event of an EMP attack. Todd marched back inside the plant, past the confused security guards at the entry doors, and tried to take some control over the situation. The floor manager was nowhere to be found; Todd hadn't seen him all day. Employees scurried up and down stairs in haste, trying to contain the power outage. No one, it seemed, had any idea what to do, though they had been trained for such a scenario in the past.
In the event of a massive loss of generator power or transformer voltage, the emergency backup generators were to be employed. Most technicians on the ground were attempting to locate those generators as well as monitor the conductivity or output of the voltage boxes. Their efforts were aimed at the restoration of power to thousands of Georgia residents. On one of the hottest days of the year, the lack of power presented an entirely new threat that could already be felt within the walls of the fifty-year-old plant.
Todd grabbed a battery-operated megaphone from a nearby storage closet and walked out on the main floor. He pulled the trigger back and was pleased to hear the device working.
“Attention, first-line technicians, I believe that we need to enact protocols in reaction to an EMP strike. I'm sure most of you are aware of what an EMP device can do, and I believe this plant has been compromised, which means we need to get power reserves back on-line ASAP and properly notify the authorities.”
As Todd continued, his boss, Mr. Patterson, came up from behind and grabbed the megaphone out of his hands, causing Todd to turn and look at him angrily. Recognizing his boss, he took a step back.
“I've been looking everywhere for you; we have a huge crisis on our hands,” Todd said.
“I'm well aware of what's going on, Mr. Broderick. What do you think I've been doing the past five minutes, playing solitaire in my office?”
“Well, no, I mean, I went to your office and—”
“That's quite enough. Yes, you're right to alert our employees on the proper protocol, but the last thing we want to do is provide mixed signals.”
Mr. Patterson was a large bulky man, about twice the size of Todd, with patches of dark hair concealing his patterned balding. He pulled a pamphlet from his pocket and held the megaphone to his mouth. The employees looked to him in anticipation of instructions to come.
“As Mr. Broderick stated, we need to enact protocol in the aftermath of an EMP immediately. At this time, we have no hard evidence to confirm such an attack. We do know that many of our technicians have been working hard to restore the generators. So far they have had little success in doing so. Whatever we do, I want to advise against panic. Power will be restored and we will get the grid back on-line very soon. I just need everyone patient and cooperative. Please work together to find a solution to this crisis. I want a status in no more than ten minutes.”
Todd thought it odd that Mr. Patterson offered no clear specifics beyond simple optimism. Did he remember any more than Todd about how to handle the aftermath of an EMP? Perhaps a face-to-face would help.
“Mr. Patterson,” Todd said.
Patterson looked at him, almost in a daze, and handed him back the megaphone. “Yes, what is it?”
“Do you really think we can get this place back on-line?”
Patterson thought for a moment then leaned in closer. “We have to try. Worst-case scenario is that we have to replace every transformer in the plant. Even worse, every generator. We're talking millions of dollars here. Then there's the logistics of transporting them from the warehouse in Washington to here. The entire process...well, it could take months.”
Todd looked at Mr. Patterson, hoping for more information, surprised that his boss seemed to grasp only a general idea of things to come.
“Months?” Todd asked.
“Yes, that's why we have to pray that those backup generators work.”
“I don't understand, Mr. Broderick. Had this plant no foolproof method to deal with EMPs? I know that we've discussed them and set up drills and all the like, but they've also told us that hydroelectric plants have a very low likelihood of being compromised by EMPs. In fact, I remember at one point, we were told we had the lowest probability of being affected by an EMP than any other type of plant.”
Patterson jammed a stick of gum in his mouth and chewed ferociously. “Don't know what to tell you, Todd. Could be more than just an EMP.”
“There are several different pulse types we could be dealing with. If we're looking at an E1 pulse, for instance, it probably blew the voltages on all of our generators.” Todd began to pace as some of the general information about EMPs came back to him. He recalled an instance, about two years ago, when preventative measures were discussed but not implemented.
“Why didn't the plant invest in those surge protectors?” he asked point-blank.
“What are you talking about?” Patterson asked, chewing wildly.
“I'm taking about the fast-acting surge protectors. The ones that could have prevented this?”
Patterson rubbed his eyes, annoyed with Todd’s tone.
“Look, let's just stay on track here. I need these generators running. If the fuses are blown we replace them.”
Todd raised his voice to a near shout. “If the fuses are blown, then we're going to have to replace everything. How long is that going to take, a month?”
Patterson narrowed his eyes at Todd and spoke calmly with his finger pointing in the air. “You're the plant supervisor. Get these technicians organized and get them working. I'll need a full report on our status in the next ten minutes so I can inform the city council.”
Todd was going to ask him how he planned to make any phone calls, since communications had been disabled, but he hesitated and decided ag
ainst it. “I'll do what I can, sir,” he said. It was no time to escalate an argument.
“That's good to hear,” Patterson said, turning away.
“Mr. Patterson!” Johnson, one of the plant technicians, ran up to them pressing down on his hard hat so it wouldn’t fall off. He seemed stricken with fear and anxiety. “Mr. Patterson, we've got a problem.”
“Take a breath, Johnson, and calm down. What's the situation?” Patterson asked.
“The backup generators are inoperable. Every transformer we've inspected so far has been blown out. It's—it's like whoever did this scored a direct hit.”
Todd and Patterson looked at Johnson as he took a few steady breaths. Then he continued. “The plant is dead.” For a moment, the three of them stood there not saying a word as the technicians scrambled to make sense of it all.
Origin of the Pact
“Continued electrical supply is necessary for sustaining water supplies, production and distribution of food, fuel, and everything else that is a part of our economy.” —EMP Commission Report, April 2008
In a time of crisis, people would often band together for the common good. Even in the most harrowing moments, history had shown how people from all walks of life could unite for a common good. But in 2020, even before the mysterious power outage, there was the question of just how possible this was anymore. Even so, most people affected throughout Georgia didn't immediately panic. The majority of them, though confused, were naturally inclined to be courteous and friendly to each other. A small minority, on the other hand—mostly young delinquents—chose to take immediate advantage of the situation through random vandalism and looting. In the days that followed, people were generally calm due to the initial shock of the event. But the longer people had to wait for normalcy to return, the more difficult things would become.
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