APOCALYPSE 2073 Omnibus

by Parker James

  “Understood, Mr. President.”

  The President then turned to Admiral Pichton.

  “Admiral, you are to continue with contingency plans for our Naval Fleet based upon what information we already have and various possible scenarios once communications are restored and our reconnaissance operations commence.”

  And then to General Rodriguez.

  “General Rodriguez, you are to oversee scheduling operations of our military personnel within this bunker and coordinate with all other Bunker Site Commanders on security matters within the other sites.”

  “General McCreary. You are relieved until 1300 hours, and I mean I want you in your quarters lying on a bed with your head on a pillow.”

  The President then looked around the room.

  “Gentlemen, first things first. Meeting adjourned until 1400.”

  The Joint Chiefs rose and filed out with their marching orders. The President now got on the intercom with his secretary Margaret. The prior evening she had been so distraught that she had to be sedated. She had lost her husband when Washington was hit; he’d never made it out in time. Everything happened so quickly. When she’d left with the President on Air Force One her husband was still at work across town and was unable to get to the airport prior to their departure. Somehow she had pulled herself together; trooper that she was.

  “Margaret, please have the Conyers’ sent in.”

  Although her voice wavered slightly, she was still there.

  “Yes, Mr. President,” she replied.

  The structure was once again now in place.

  Episode 15: “Crisis”

  * * *

  After passing through the Secret Service Agents perpetually guarding the door to the Oval Office and stepping through the multi-function security device adopted long ago, soon the Conyers’ were within that very important office. The President had been going through schematic diagrams of the bunker systems on the pop-up monitor located within his desk as the Conyers’ arrived, wanting to know every square inch of Bunker Site 1 as well as each and every one of the others. He would tour Bunker Site 1 in its entirety in the very near future and if all went well soon each of the additional 19 bunkers once tunneling operations allowed. Although he had been kept up to date on the overall preparations in general prior to the war breaking out, his main efforts and the majority of his time had been mainly focused on diplomatic efforts in the hope of avoiding the nuclear holocaust that had inevitably occurred.

  “Mitch, Anya, so glad to see you. How is your daughter doing?” Andrews asked.

  “She’s doing well, Mr. President,” Anya replied. “Thank you so much for asking.”

  “That’s good to hear. Sit, please, we have much to discuss.”

  President Andrews saw the weariness on both of their faces, it seemed to be a common factor amongst all of those within the bunker and the Conyers’ were no exception. With the press of a button on the President’s part a secondary monitor popped up from the desk mimicking the display that he himself had been reviewing. It was now 2073, technology having advanced over the decades at an exponential rate. Voice activation was now the rule. President Andrews spoke, switching screens with several simple words.

  “Bunker site reports, occupancy rates,” the President said. And as simple as those words were spoken in an instant both screens changed to a secondary display. There was no need for encryption on the President’s computer, although it was there anyway. He had total access to all computerized systems already interconnected throughout all of the 20 bunkers available only to him. His computer system overrode all others simply through the vocal signature of his voice embedded within each and every computer within all of the bunkers. If and when satellite communications were restored this would also be true of all the other 2000 bunkers located within the continental United States, that is those that had survived the nuclear holocaust wrought upon the country. Anya reached for her glasses; Mitch sitting a little closer to the screen saw quite clearly. What he was looking at was a preliminary report showing how many individuals were within each of the 20 bunkers as President Andrews had requested of the Bunker Site Commanders during the prior conference. Again Andrews spoke.

  “Split screen; secondary report; stored food stocks cross- referenced with primary report. Time to exhaustion of stored food supplies based upon current occupancy levels excluding suspended animation operations and anticipated hydroponic food generation. Retain current display; terminate voice activation.”

  A third column suddenly appeared on the monitor breaking down the numbers in an instant. The Conyers’ were quite disturbed. President Andrews gave the Conyers’ several moments to absorb the data prior to speaking although Mitch and Anya had seen the numbers before in their case scenario reports during their initial work on the suspension chambers. Their concerns were more the indisputable and sudden reality of it all.

  “As you can see the last two shipments of food stocks never arrived, although we are sufficiently stocked. The war began well before we anticipated. We simply hoped we had more time. We were wrong,” President Andrews said.

  “I know you’ve been kept up to speed with most aspects of the bunker system operations. Seven of the bunkers are dedicated to hydroponics, storage, and technological advancement, but they still contain a significant number of our citizens who need to be placed in animation. I won’t speak of the other bunkers outside of this structure until communications are restored and we have more information, but within this 20 unit structure we have approximately 760,000 individuals. We’ll get a definitive number later. At our current burn rate of existing food supplies without your chamber technology will only allow 36 months at the most. How long will it take to begin your operations?” the President asked pointedly.

  Both Mitch and Anya looked at each other. Anya spoke first.

  “Mr. President, we can begin immediately,” she responded.

  “And what is the timeframe that we are currently looking at? Each bunker can only support 2,000 individuals based upon current food projections in order to give us the time that we need. You already know how many nuclear warheads hit before we lost communications. Assuming no more devices exploded before we lost contact with NORAD, the damage has already been done. If we don’t get those designated into the chambers as quickly as possible and are forced to return to the surface it will be a death sentence for all of us,” President Andrews stated matter of factly.

  Mitch interjected.

  “Mr. President, how much detail do you require and options?”

  “Whatever you can give me to work with, Professor,” the President responded stoically.

  “Well, Sir, based upon the numbers we’re looking at we have on average approximately 38,000 people within each of the 20 bunkers. 2,000 of those individuals will not be put into animation, which leaves 36,000 per bunker. The specific process you’ve already been briefed on. There will be a two week waiting period once the DNA modification has taken place. This is done by injection of a modified DNA strand. Each bunker site has a trained staff of 20 medical technicians and once suspension procedures begin it becomes a matter of how many individuals, and forgive me for saying this, we can process each and every day. Currently the number is 50 individuals per bunker. It can be a drawn out procedure. First we have to induce them into an artificial coma once a full health assessment has been made prior to placing them into the chambers and gradually lower their body temperature. Special suits must be worn which will monitor the subjects medically and also prevent muscle atrophy through electrical stimulation based upon their reduced metabolic rate. The individuals will also be provided nutrition through feeding tubes also based upon their reduced metabolic rate. Once inside the chamber the patient is monitored continuously with periodic visual inspection of both the individual and proper operation of the chamber; maintenance occurring as needed. So it comes down to simple numbers. At the rate of 50 individuals per day we’re looking at over 700 days. Every day that passes the d
aily food consumption will be reduced on a declining linear scale, but it’s still not enough time. I won’t go into hydroponics as it is not my area of expertise but in the overall scheme of things it would make a tremendous difference in restoring and thus increasing our food supplies to a self-sustaining level.”

  Mitch wasn’t finished yet as suddenly the President slammed his fist on the desk.

  “Damn it Mitch, give me definitive solutions. I have to explain this to our people tonight, how we’re going to survive this thing,” Andrews barked.

  Although somewhat startled at the President’s outburst, Mitch continued with his thoughts. He and Anya had discussed various scenarios for years now. Perhaps having been so caught up and single minded in making the chambers functional they had somehow neglected other elements in the overall equation.

  “Yes, Mr. President. It’s numbers. More technicians. That’s part of the solution. Each and every single step in the process currently cannot be further minimized on a time basis without taking further risks on survivability rates, so barring that our only immediate solution is to train more technicians in the lesser aspects of the procedure. That’s the only obvious solution at the moment. I assure you we shall keep working on it and God willing more solutions will be forthcoming.”

  Mitch looked directly at Anya as he spoke, hoping for her support.

  “We need to process 100 individuals per day in the near term and increase that number as quickly as humanly possible,” he added.

  “Can it be done?” the President asked as he looked at both Mitch and Anya glaringly.

  “Yes Mr. President, it can,” Mitch answered again returning his gaze to the President. Anya was silent knowing that together she and Mitch could solve it, reiterating Mitch’s response with a simple nod of agreement.

  “Very well then, Professors,” President Andrews responded. “You are to draw up a plan of action and have a report on my desk by tomorrow am. Suspension procedures are to begin the following day. Meeting adjourned.”

  Mitch and Anya had never seen this side of the President before although they always knew the consequences should their invention of the chambers fail. Lives were at stake. Humanity was at stake. What they didn’t know was the fact that President Andrews had to seriously consider sending people to the surface so some would survive. If that were to occur it would be a death sentence, the two nuclear warheads having hit so close. It was not something Andrews even wished to contemplate as an alternative but it was unavoidable. Mitch had one more thing to add knowing that the President was going to discuss matters with the other Bunker Site Commanders shortly. He also had to make his Presidential address later on this very day to those within all of the bunkers. Yet Mitch also thanked God that it was a responsibility that he did not have, although most certainly he and Anya had their own burden to bear. Not wanting to push his luck any further knowing President Andrews had the weight of the world on his should , indeed the future of mankind, he also required one more bit of information.

  “My apologies, Mr. President. May I ask a question of you?”

  “Go on,” President Andrews replied brusquely.

  “Our procedure requires that all individuals be given a preliminary health assessment. The majority of those pre-designated to the bunkers have already gone through that part of the procedure. Will you be logging down all relevant information of the newer arrivals contained within our bunker system?”

  “We shall. Please continue, Professor.”

  “Sir, many civilians were let into the bunkers prior to the war’s outbreak. They were not fully screened. In all likelihood a significant number of them may have had prior experience in the medical field. Regardless of their level of expertise, those individuals would be most helpful to our efforts. Would it be possible to determine that information?”

  “Consider it done, Professor,” Andrews replied.

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  Mitch and Anya rose from their chairs and headed straight toward their lab; thoughts upon thoughts and contingencies upon contingencies racing through their minds. Together they would solve this problem before them and they would do so quickly. “For every problem,” as Anya had always told Mitch throughout their many years together, “there are ten solutions waiting to be found.” That single premise had always served them well. Their lab was located just a short distance away on level 19, taking up a considerable amount of space. They arrived in short order deciding to take the secured stairwell and went to work immediately with their task.

  President Andrews was lifted, hoping that he was relieved of the burden he wished not to contemplate as he considered his next move. That one question from Mitch had renewed his faith in the Conyers’ abilities. He understood then and there that they were both already considering solutions and knew in his gut that they would solve the problem at hand. He briefly thought of what he would say during his address later and reached for a pen and piece of paper, then deciding against it. “No,” he thought to himself. Tonight he would speak from his heart. He glanced at the computer screen again, briefly absorbing the numbers before him. “It comes down to simple numbers,” again thinking out loud.

  “Voice activation on,” he said. A small green light appeared upon the desk monitor. “Reports and schematics; hydroponics; split screen,” he said. It was time to continue learning, with no time to spare.

  Margaret popped her head through the office door.

  “Mr. President, is there anything I can get for you?” she asked.

  It was a pleasant diversion, Andrews knowing that Margaret had just lost her husband when Washington was hit during the initial attack. Having been his secretary for over a decade now throughout his meteoric rise, she was supremely professional yet at the same time had always seemed motherly. Her concern for both him and his family had always been an obvious aspect of their long standing relationship.

  “No thank you, Margaret,” the President responded.

  As she turned and was about to return to her desk; their doors always opened to one another when a meeting was not in progress, he rethought himself.

  “On second thought, Margaret, a cup of coffee wouldn’t hurt,” he said.

  She smiled.

  “Coming right up, Mr. President.”

  The next several hours passed quickly, the President flipping from screen to screen absorbing as much information as he possibly could. He was on his second pot of coffee when he suddenly decided to take a walk to the control room to see how things were progressing. He now knew a great deal about the specific details of the bunker systems, much more in fact then he ever had. General McCreary was already in the control room when the President arrived. The General had woken early despite the President’s prior orders to get some rest. He had pushed the envelope somewhat, there was too much adrenaline running through his system. Having been career military he was used to a minimal amount of sleep when the situation required, and considering his responsibilities for the past decade it was nothing new to him. Andrews didn’t chastise the General for it, glad to see that McCreary looked quite refreshed.

  “Phil, how goes it?” the President asked.

  “No sign of any drones from NORAD yet, Sir.”

  “And Professor Enghult?”

  “He’s taking a brief nap in the other room; he hasn’t slept in hours. Turns out that he is human after all. The damage to this bunker’s nuclear generator was minimal. The technicians are finishing up their final assessment and then Enghult’s going to do a final walkthrough prior to further action. The other two technicians are monitoring the progress on the other four generators and if Gearhart feels comfortable we’re going to go for restart on Bunker Site 1 first, once you approve. It’s looking pretty good right now.”

  “Ok then, let’s see what he thinks after his walkthrough. Let him sleep for now until they’re ready, I want him at 100%. Also, let’s start to get these staffing levels up here in the control room. I want four techs in here at all times from now on
; two on communications and two monitoring security in the other bunkers. I don’t care if they’re staring at blank screens, if there’s any sign of communications or even an inkling I want to know about it right away. Other than that let’s let the Professor do his work undisturbed.”

  “Understood, Mr. President."

  “How are the outer blast doors on bunkers 13 and 17?”

  “Tighter than a drum, Sir. Enghult had the technicians re-weld a few spots and secured several other areas by placing three more plates as back-up. I’m not quite so sure that we’ll ever get those outer blast doors functional again but the radiation levels are down to trace. Those two bunkers are too valuable to lose, but they’re secure now. Once those two bunkers are joined through the tunnel and rail system at least they won’t be completely cut off from the rest of us. We’ll be able to move the equipment stored in bunker 17 as needed and that artesian well in bunker 13 is indispensable.”

  President Andrews looked at his watch; two hours until the next conference with the other Bunker Site Commanders. Barring any problems it would be a basic status update with several new directives based upon the Conyers’ earlier recommendations.

  “Phil, is Hastings back on duty yet?”

  “He is, Mr. President.”

  “Good, I’m going to take a walk up to the Atrium on level 10 and check on how things are going there. Let me know if you need me for anything, otherwise I’ll be back down for the 1400 conference.”

  “Yes, Mr. President.”

  It wasn’t so much about a status update from Major Hastings; the President had been intermittently monitoring the situation in the main Atrium from his office computer. In fact he had monitored all of the bunkers at some point during the morning hours while also absorbing all he could about his new home. It was a matter of being seen by the citizens as well as military personnel. Agent Phillips was now back on duty with another one of his subordinates, quiet as always yet never far from the President’s side.