Catalyst (Book 1): Downward Cycle

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Catalyst (Book 1): Downward Cycle Page 10

by JK Franks


  He paused, looking down at his laptop screen. This is decision time. Did he feel that things were going to recover, or was this the end? If it was the end, this information might help him prepare, even survive. The truth was, up until this minute, he had been going down dual paths, preparing for the worst but not believing it was that bad. He thoughtfully considered all the data he had and came to the conclusion he had been avoiding. The shit had indeed hit the fan yesterday. The impact of what this meant was enormous, but Scott’s analytical brain still could see no other possibility. Yesterday was the end. He would review everything and fuck the consequences.

  Chapter Twenty

  The first of the highly secure documents detailed multiple national studies that the government, US Navy and several universities had undertaken in the last decade to predict the likelihood of, and resulting disaster from, a Carrington Level CME event.

  Reading down, Scott saw that the event was named after the astronomer that first noticed massive solar flares in 1859. During that time, the world’s dependence on electricity had still been in its infancy. Telegraph was the main mode of communication over long distance, and only a small percentage of homes and businesses used electrical lighting. Even so, this storm had caused a lot of problems, including fires and possibly even a few deaths. The solar flare had wreaked havoc on the power and telegraph lines. It was later described as a one in one-hundred-year event.

  The odds of having a direct hit from another similar sized or greater CLE, Carrington Level Event, in our lifetime, he read, was nearly 100 percent. Scott paused and re-read that. The odds of this happening are 100 percent. That meant that people…that the government knew that this was going to happen. Scott read on.

  It appeared to Scott that the decision had been made to water down the report and put the odds as one in twelve, which was still high but wouldn’t alarm the public as much. This didn’t surprise him as he had been privy to many things in his government work that had never been released in its raw form. In this case though, the raw facts were spelled out on the summary page for whomever had been briefed: For the average person there will be absolutely nothing they can do to prepare to the level necessary to survive the event or the resultant crisis. Where and how the CME and its subsequent electromagnetic waves impact the Earth is more random than predictable or preventable, so the worst-case scenarios or survival rates cannot be calculated with any degree of certainty but will likely be the highest in the more developed countries where the populous is most dependent on electrical power.

  These words leaped off the screen and grabbed at Scott. The government never left anything to chance. What was most chilling were the spreadsheets of projected mortality rates. In week one: Up to five million people worldwide would likely die. If that were not bad enough, multiple models concluded that in the first twenty months, over ninety percent of the world population would also die, simply from causes relating either directly or indirectly to loss of electrical power.

  Scott was stunned at the magnitude and the callousness of the report but kept scrolling and capturing the data to his laptop. Opening and quickly reading yet another file, he read:

  “Project Catalyst is one of the contingent plans available during a National SOE (State of Emergency) which, in our opinion, will offer the best option of Continuation of Government. Despite the massive loss of life, this would not be considered an ELE (Extinction Level Event).”

  So, mankind would continue although certainly many countries would fall, and the world, in general, would be a very different place. In the weeks after the event, attempts would be made to keep power, communication and supplies flowing although on a limited basis. This would allow emergency service to be established, shipments of supplies to be routed and assets transferred to less affected areas. All of this was to help calm the general public and attempt to maintain a state of equilibrium. The political pressure on the media would suggest that the problems were bad but that it would be temporary. Depending on the scale of the disaster, the focus or primary assets targeted were numerous key people who were to be remanded to state custody for safekeeping during the crises. This list seemed to include scientists, teachers, doctors and engineers. Scott would have expected military and political leaders to dominate the list. That very absence made Scott wonder again who created this plan.

  The reports went on to describe that even those efforts would not last long. Several of the documents were for coordination with the DOD for the military’s role and interaction with the state government and National Guard forces. Many of the items were field guides for the designated regional officials. They were instructed to refer to these contingency plans and instructional guides to carry out their responsibilities.

  Scott abandoned more of his training and paranoia and began to download the PDF versions of each of the manuals. Several things occurred to him. First, he couldn’t tell who had put the plan together or how Tahir had found them, but none of these documents were originated within the DHS. Secondly, he had no way of knowing if the plans had been activated yet or not; no approval orders were apparent, but that in itself would not have been a surprise. What was odd was that not a single person’s name was to be found on the reports anywhere.

  He felt numb, but rapidly opened and closed each of the files in the folders, making sure that archived images were being stored on his laptop. He saw the emergency plans that went far beyond even martial law, including emergency food shipments, forced rationing, bank closure instructions, asset forfeitures and even prison cleansing procedures. It seemed that lethal force was to be the recommended course of action for nearly every criminal offense.

  The research suggested that in a power vacuum or under any absence of clear authority, gangs, and later, warlords would likely establish themselves in many areas, practically inevitable in any area without a functional government. Catalyst protocols indicated they would necessarily intervene. In fact, it recommended a very hands-off approach to establishing order in the short-term. Even more confusing, as Scott scanned more of the page, he realized that in some instances, it appeared the leadership in such a scenario might even suggest provoking situations to speed up a collapse. The rationale apparently was that the only way to survive as a nation was to reduce population numbers quickly. Triaging the situation, like a Civil War surgeon deciding it better to cut off the damaged limbs than to lose the entire patient.

  More documents and guides were included covering everything from reestablishing communication networks to setting up of trade, reestablishing a workable currency and eliminating all but the most basic of social programs. Lastly came the simple statement that immediately after the CME, the US Constitution would have to be suspended, along with rights and privileges that the document provided for the country’s citizens. There was even the outline proposal of a new provisional form of government for the country to use. It was pretty simple. It kept the basic democratic aspects and incorporated much of the original Bill of Rights and the Constitution but would be structured to eliminate some of the most glaring faults of the current system. More power would be provided to the states under this revised form of government, and personal responsibility was really the key component. If what Scott was seeing was accurate, it would also be designed to be compatible with the proposed governments of all other surviving new world governments. The solar event would be the catalyst to a new and different world and a new America.

  He honestly didn’t know how to take in everything he was seeing. While the analyst in him wanted to dissect all of the information, he had more immediate problems to deal with. He would try and go through all of it later. But, two things had occurred to him. If this were an actual plan and not just someone else’s “thought experiment,” it would be a conspiracy at the highest level of our government. Second, if it were put into play, it may have been done for the right reasons, the very survival of the United States. It suggests revisions to law enforcement that would seem outrageous by current standards. Justic
e would be swift and without mercy. Even the revised governmental structure seemed like a pretty good solution to Scott. Taken as a whole, the plans were ruthless and simple; it would potentially correct a lot of the problems of the country’s leadership. With only a projected ten percent of the population expected to survive, it would likely take something this draconian to be successful.

  It didn’t seem feasible to Scott that anyone in Washington, DC would have sanctioned its creation, much less, allowed this Catalyst plan to be put into action. He pinged AlphaCat but got no response. Scott was more aware than most of the troubles in the nation’s capital. Politicians’ main job these days was no longer to help run the country, it was to get re-elected and to help raise money for the political party. One unclassified report at DHS he had read suggested that as much as 60% of members of Congress’ time is spent in fundraising. There were reasons politicians had exempted themselves from the “Do not call,” telemarketing legislation.

  Scott had no love for politicians and admitted a shakeup was needed, if not a complete dismantling of the US political system. His head was buzzing as he left Tahir a message to tell him he had the information and thanks. He would review it more and try to be back in touch soon.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The power was still on in the little cottage, and the scene could have been of any other Thursday night in August, but it had taken on a much more somber feel to Scott Montgomery. He moved away from the laptop, his stomach churning. The more he considered what Tahir had shared, the more scared he got. He was pretty sure his sphincter had tightened considerably. The ass-clinching ramifications of what he had read were staggering. The world’s governments, or at least the US, were going to wipe the slate clean.

  Survival of the fittest from here on out. What would survival even mean? What would there be to look forward to? In time, he could see the possibility of a brighter future, even the possibility of a better world, but he would be walking in darkness for many years until that day. The lone man in his cottage had an unfamiliar need; he desperately wanted to speak with someone, anyone. Just another human voice. Looking at the time, he took his cell phone from the charging stand and dialed his brother’s number. It rang twice before he heard Bobby’s familiar voice.

  Relieved beyond words, Scott quickly got caught up on news from his brother and his family. They were all okay but still had had no word from their daughter, Kaylie. The situation in their town near Little Rock had been mostly fine so far. The stores had taken to rationing quickly, and fuel stations had been ordered closed by the governor. Thankfully, Bobby and Jessie had worked his disaster plan, quickly topping off all the fuel, food and supplies they could gather. Bobby said they were fine for now but ready to head to his bug-out cabin up in the Ozarks if it looked like things were heading sideways. They were desperate to reach Kaylie, though. “Scott,” his brother said, “only Dad’s old truck is still running. The CME killed my new Ford pickup and Jessie’s car. If I can get the transmission working a little better on the old pickup, we could take it down there. It’ll use all the fuel we have just to get down to her. I know it’s risky and probably not a smart use of resources, but we’re getting pretty desperate to reach her. I wish we had some way of knowing if this is just temporary or that it really is The Big Crunch.” His big brother had always called any doomsday scenario by this term.

  “Bro, I think this is it. In fact, I think the other day was probably the last easy day any of us will ever have.” Scott decided to tell his brother some of what he had learned in the last few hours.

  Bobby seemed to take it all in, then said, “That doesn’t sound like any government response we would expect. They’re just going to leave millions of people to die? That’s some seriously fucked up shit. What about the military? All their stuff is supposed to be hardened against EMP blasts. Why wouldn’t they be recalled to the mainland to help preserve order? Keep some level of continuity of government? I’m not sure I believe the other branches of government would sanction any of that.”

  Scott didn’t know what to reply. “Look, Bobby, I agree with you, and we may be looking at a possible coup of some sort. I haven’t gone through even a fraction of the information yet. Maybe I missed something big. This could be just one contingency plan among many that were on the table. Maybe Catalyst’s not the one they’re actually going to go with. In either case, I just think it’s going to get worse from here on.” He went on in a somewhat shaky voice, “Bobby, I can go….I can go to the university and find Kaylie. If the situation looks bad there, I’ll just bring her back here to the cottage.”

  Bobby considered it but said no.

  “It’s okay man, I love her too; she’s family, and the school is only about 200 miles away. Hell, I can get there on my bike if I wanted.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I hear you, Le Pirat,” Bobby said, referring to one of Scott's favorite bicycling champions.

  “Seriously, Scott, making a trip like this violates all of my rules for survival, and she’s our daughter. I can’t put you in that position.” Then in a low voice, he added, “Not yet, anyway. Let me see if I can get any of these other cars road-ready. Jess will keep trying to get through to her or some of her friends down there. We may be worrying over nothing.” Bobby took a very long pause before continuing. “In the meantime, if you’re willing at least, be thinking about how you might safely get to her if we do need you to try.”

  “You only have to ask, man.”

  “Listen, little brother, if it does come to that, you can’t do it alone, though… do you understand me? I know you’re the Lone Ranger and all, but you’ll need help, a friend, someone to watch your back. The roads are already getting dangerous and the cities even more so.”

  Scott told him not to worry; he said he thought he had a few new friends that might be willing to help. Bobby asked, “Who the hell would you make friends with?”

  “A few guys from Harris Springs. One of them’s nearly as crazy as you are about the survivalist shit,” Scott answered.

  Laughing, Bobby asked his name.

  “Bartos,” Scott said.

  “Oh fuck,” Bobby said. “You hooked up with that crazy bastard? I met him when the county was doing some road work near the cottage. He has some serious issues man, although he is a rock-solid prepper… probably a good friend to have. Tell him I said hi and to please ask him to help you not die.”

  Not totally surprised that Bobby knew the guy, Scott laughed and said he would. The remainder of the conversation contained a brief hello to Bobby’s wife, Jessie. She was trying hard to hold it together, but Scott could tell how worried she was. “Jess, I am sure she is alright; the school is probably the safest place right now.” She tried to agree, but her voice cracked. She was a mother, and the “not knowing” was making her crazy.

  Jess put Bobby back on, and Scott told him about the supplies and plans he had managed to figure out in the short time since the event. Bobby seemed genuinely impressed and only made a few brotherly comments to the effect of, “That’s unnecessary,” or ‘effing’ “ridiculous.” He was very concerned about Scott’s lack of firepower and ammo, though.

  “Scott, you will need it. It will likely be what keeps you alive.”

  “I know, Bobby; I’m just not sure I could actually shoot someone, though. I carry Pop’s pistol with me now but…”

  “Scott,” his brother said, “listen, you shoot people in those video games you love so much. You better get it in your head quickly. You have to be ready before the time comes. There are going to be some dangerous fucks running around. There are already rumors that the prison population here in Arkansas is being released. They can't keep them fed. You’ll have every gangbanger, methhead and psychotic out on the roads in the next few days looking for easy prey. Even if most people you deal with are decent, you have to assume otherwise. You remember what Dad always said, “Hope for th—”

  Scott cut him off, “I know… I get it, Bro. I won’t hesitate.”

 
“Make sure you don’t,” Bobby said. “Listen. It may also be my daughter’s life you’re protecting. I’ll need to know you can do that.”

  “I got it,” Scott said quietly. “You know you guys can count on me. Besides, she loves me best anyway.”

  “Yeah, right, just ‘cause you always give her more expensive gifts than Jess and I can,” Bobby scoffed.

  The other concern that Bobby mentioned was the fact that Scott had no real plan for a bug-out shelter. Scott agreed to think of one. “More than one,” Bobby said. “You’ll probably need a back-up or two.” Bobby had been making notes as they talked and said, “I’m going to make a list of stuff for you to try and find, buy or steal. Also, some basic rules that might help keep you alive. Our email isn’t working, but I’ll leave the file on my desktop screen. Think you can manage to log in to our computer like you do when I get you to do remote work on it?” That was a damn good idea.

  He’d not even remembered the virtual remote desktop support program they had loaded so he could log in to Bobby’s PC and troubleshoot for them when needed. “I’ll also try and drop some of the files I got from work so you guys can see what the Catalyst plan is,” Scott responded. “There are some big multi-syllable words in it, so Jess will probably have to read it to you,” Scott said grinning.

  “Hey, fuck you, Brother,” Bobby laughed.

  “Fuck you, too,” said Scott lovingly. “I’ll come up with a plan just in case you need me to head over to Tallahassee in the next day or two. Love you guys.”

  He heard Bobby’s voice unusually quiet. He knew the proud man did not like asking anyone for help, especially when it put his own brother's life at risk. “Scott, you are a good man, and you are a much stronger man than you know. We’ll find a way to let you know about Kaylie. See ya, Brother – love you.”

 

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