Collapse (New America)

by Richard Stephenson

  Howard had absolutely no idea how to fly the craft any better than he could drive a car. He knew that if Hal malfunctioned or went offline, the craft would no longer have a pilot. Howard designed several failsafes in the event that Hal ceased to function. Howard designed the craft to fly on automatic pilot in the unlikely event Hal was unable to fly the escape pod. While it was cruising on auto, Howard could make repairs to Hal and put him back in the pilot's seat. If the craft was severely damaged from a lightning strike or an errant flock of birds, the seat that Howard was strapped into would eject, and he would parachute safely to the ground. The final failsafe was the one that Howard was currently waiting on. If the canopy above him was damaged and he could not safely eject, a pair of ten-foot wings would unfold and turn the craft into a glider. Then, when the glider was a thousand feet from the ground, large parachutes would deploy from the roof, slowing the craft and allowing it to land safely. All of this was done by hydraulics and set off by a gyroscope. Howard had no idea that he had just been struck by an EMP and would later discover that the final failsafe saved his life, due to the simple fact that it did not involve electronics to operate. The gyroscope measured the orientation and momentum of the craft. Once it detected that the craft was behaving erratically, the final failsafe would kick in and do its job. What Howard didn’t anticipate was the fact that in order for the gyroscope to launch the final failsafe, the craft had to be in a free fall for a thousand feet. He had designed the craft years ago and in the extreme stress of his current predicament, did not recall this crucial information.

  As the craft began to plummet vertically, Howard's arms began to hover in the weightlessness. He immediately gripped the arm rests of his chair and looked out the cockpit window. All he could see was blackness. Howard fought the urge to scream and closed his eyes.

  "Please, Hal, please save me. Please save me, I don't want to die. Please, please, please, please. Do something, Hal, please do something. Eject me! Hurry up! Eject me! Why aren't you ejecting me? WHY ISN'T THIS WORKING?"

  Howard replaced his terror with rage. Rage is a much more comfortable emotion than terror. Rage demands control; terror whimpers for it. In the span of less than a second, his brilliant mind reviewed the failsafe systems he had designed, and Howard realized that all of the electrical systems must have gone offline at precisely the same instant. He wasn't struck by lightning and the craft didn't malfunction. The odds of all the systems malfunctioning at the same time were astronomical. What did Hal say just before this happened? He had disturbing news that he didn't think I could handle. The disturbing news and his craft going dark could not be a coincidence; the two had to be related. Howard then realized with certainty that a nuclear device had been detonated high in the atmosphere, and the resulting electromagnetic pulse had disabled his craft.

  Howard relaxed when he realized it was only a matter of time before the craft would deploy her wings and become a glider. Once the craft fell to the thousand foot mark, the hydraulics pushed out the wings and locked them into place. Slowly, the craft leveled out for a more gradual and controlled descent. Howard's mind raced, simultaneously processing a dozen trains of thought at the same time. He calculated that they were in the air for less than three minutes and still climbing to cruising altitude when they were struck, putting the point of impact roughly ten miles from Beck Castle. The craft would then spend another few minutes slowly gliding back to the ground, adding another mile or so to the distance. Once on the ground, Howard figured he would be ten to twelve miles from Beck Castle. He was no spring chicken and never exercised, so he would be lucky to make three miles an hour on foot. Thus, it was going to take him close to four hours to make the long trek back to the Castle. Another of the many thoughts racing through his head was the status of Beck Castle. Howard knew the massive underground facility was shielded from an EMP. What concerned him was whether or not Hal would come to rescue him. Hal knew the monumental importance of keeping the facility safe at all costs. The Artificial Intelligence was capable of rational, independent thought. If Hal made the decision to leave Howard to his own devices to keep the Castle undetected and safe, then Howard would be on his own. If the EMP was the first phase in a full scale invasion and the enemy was at their shores, then nothing would be launched from the Castle for fear of detection. If Hal launched a drone into a sky absent of aircraft, the Castle would become an inviting target. Howard decided that the best course of action was to operate under this assumption.

  Howard's brilliant mind, a mind that rivaled that of Albert Einstein, began to execute tactical scenarios of what the enemy might be doing at that very moment. He also analyzed what an EMP would have done to the Eastern United States. The death toll would be staggering. Howard quickly realized what the average man wouldn’t comprehend for years: the American way of life was extinguished by a flash of light in the sky.

  A few minutes later, the parachutes deployed from the roof and gently brought the craft to the ground. Howard took the large bolt key and flashlight out of the small compartment in front of him and opened a small panel on the door. He pushed the lever forward and the cockpit door slowly opened. Howard stepped out into the surrounding blackness and looked up into the night sky, cursing the cloud cover above him. The moon was desperately trying to pierce the cloud in front of it. The edges of the cloud were illuminated, giving him a glimmer of light to work with. He scanned the rest of the night sky and saw a few stars, but not enough to get his bearing and figure out the direction he was facing. He had little choice but to wait for the clouds to move out of the way and bring the stars out of hiding. Desperation was setting in when Howard remembered his saving grace - the emergency pack in the rear of the craft.

  Removing the pack from its compartment, Howard inventoried its contents - two one-liter bottles of water, three MREs, a cigarette lighter, a container of waterproof matches, an emergency Mylar blanket, two flares, two chem-lights, a tube tent, a multi-tool, a six inch folding knife, a first aid kit, a roll of duct tape, fifty feet of parachute cord, a poncho, a ten-by-ten tarp, and best of all, a compass.

  Howard grabbed the compass, flashlight, and a chem-light and slung the backpack over his shoulders.

  Howard was happy that he hadn't set off from the tail of the craft thinking it was pointed in its original eastward direction. With the aid of his compass, Howard headed west, watching the constellations to alter his course and bring him directly to Beck Castle.

  Thinking back, Howard realized that this was the first time he had been separated from Hal since he came online. Howard was surprised at how much he depended on his digital friend. He had only just been separated from Hal and was already missing his company.

  Howard walked longer and farther than he had in decades. He couldn't remember walking this far since he was a teenager walking around his college campus. Every thirty minutes he stopped to rest and scanned the night sky for direction. Two hours into his trek, he fought the urge to set up the tube tent and call it a night. He had never been so exhausted in his life. He was drenched in sweat, and his muscles and joints ached. His estimate of making it to the bunker in three or four hours was a pipe dream. At this rate, he would be lucky to make it in six. He stopped and drank half of one of the water bottles. The constellations gave him another minor course correction, and he set off towards Beck Castle.

  Two hours later, Howard's feet were swollen and blistered. He stopped and removed his shoes and socks. Using the first aid kit, he bandaged up his feet as best he could. Realizing he needed more padding on his feet, he took off his shirt and tore it into strips to wrap around his feet. Dress shoes might look nice, but they served little purpose in long distance walking.

  Howard slowed to a snail’s pace but didn’t stop. He knew he was in the vicinity of the Castle but had no way of knowing exactly where it was in the dark. He scanned the horizon, looking for Meredith's garden. He just needed a frame of reference, something to stand out against the surrounding terrain. It was hopele
ss. The clouds above had completely blocked out the moon. Howard could barely see ten yards in front of him. He could very easily walk right past the garden and wander further off course. He checked his watch to discover that the sun would not be up for at least three more hours. Howard's mind raced through dozens of options, quickly determining that all were hopeless. He would have to set up the tent and wait for the sun to up. Howard took the tube tent from the package and unfolded it on the ground. As he sat down and began to remove his shoes, he saw something. He turned his head and watched for it again.

  A blinking light.

  A very faint, red light blinked three times in quick succession. Howard thought he was imagining it and continued to stare into the darkness. One-Two-Three. Pause. One-Two-Three. Pause. One-Two-Three. Pause.

  It was Hal!

  Howard was overjoyed. The thought of waiting for the sun to come up was pure torture. Howard was not a patient man and hated the outdoors. He quickly repacked the tent and tied his shoes. In his excitement he found a new strength and began to walk towards the light. One-Two-Three. Howard had no idea how far away the light was; it could have been a hundred yards or even a quarter of a mile. One-Two-Three. He didn't care. His journey had an ending point.

  Howard had walked for about ten minutes when he saw Meredith's garden in front of him. The always efficient Hal had aimed one of the soft garden lights in Howard’s direction after snapping a red lens over the bulb. The three quick blinks had guided Howard to the Castle. One-Two-Three.

  Howard crouched at his wife's headstone and smiled. "Hello my dear. You brought me home. After all these years you continue to light my path. I love you, my beautiful bride. Thank you." Howard stood up and placed his hand on the headstone, tapping it affectionately. Even in the dark he knew his way to the entrance of the Castle. The bay doors to the garage remained closed, so Howard had to feel his way around to the pedestrian entrance.

  He stepped into the elevator and when the doors closed, Hal spoke to him. It was music to his ears. "I am glad you made it here safely, sir. I detect that you are quite fatigued and slightly dehydrated. Do you require medical attention?"

  "No, my friend. I'm fine, thank you. I've never been happier to hear your voice."

  "The feeling is mutual, sir, I assure you."

  "Tell me what happened, Old Man."

  "CNN aired a broadcast of an Iranian submarine in the waters off the eastern seaboard of the United States. The submarine was broadcasting a message on a repeating loop – ‘The Star of Allah illuminates the wicked.’ A warhead was launched from the submarine and before I could re-task a satellite to determine its trajectory, it was detonated in the atmosphere. The resulting electromagnetic pulse disabled the escape pod, as you well know."

  "All too well, I'm afraid. Do we still have our satellite? Can we tell what's going on?"

  "No, sir, I'm afraid the EMP disabled communication with the satellite. I am confident that my systems onboard the satellite will be able to make the necessary repairs. I estimate that we will regain communication with the satellite in approximately four hours."

  "Do we know anything at all about what's going on out there?"

  "No, sir, the EMP has disabled all lines of communication. We don't have the means to establish any sort of connection with the affected area."

  "So we're in the dark?"

  "Yes, sir, I am afraid that is the case. Until I can repair our satellite we will not be able to gather intelligence."

  "Well, then, answer me this. Are you able to communicate with any of our offices to the east?"

  "No, sir."

  "What about on the other side of the Rockies?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Well, that's a bit of good news. Hal, I desperately need a shower and some rest. I'm going to get some sleep. I want to know the instant you regain your link with the satellite."

  "Yes, sir."

  Howard went to his quarters and took the longest shower of his life. He detested being covered in sweat and dirt. Squeaky clean once again, he put on his bathrobe and climbed into bed. In less than a minute, he was out like a light and slept like a baby until Hal woke him up three hours later.

  "Sir? Are you awake?"

  "Yes, Hal. Are we back online?"

  "We are indeed, sir. I was able to establish a link with the satellite."

  "Excellent. I'm on my way to the command center."

  "Very good, sir."

  Howard rushed down the hall to the command center and slid into his chair. The giant three hundred and sixty degree spherical monitor sprang to life and Howard was looking at a real time image of the North American continent.

  "Talk to me, Hal."

  "Sir, I have determined the range of the EMP based on power outages. The range extends from the eastern seaboard past the Mississippi, well into the Great Plains, down to the northern half of the Gulf States and the northern half of Texas. Everything on the other side of the Rocky Mountains was not affected."

  "This is a nightmare."

  "Sir, I am monitoring an urgent message over a secure military channel. Standby."

  "Well, at least the military was prepared to withstand an EMP."

  "Sir, Serenity Hills has been destroyed. The President and the First Lady are dead."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Jackson Butler stood on the lawn of Beck Estates in roughly the same location where he’d carried out the attack that drove Howard Beck from his home the day before. He was quite proud of the unexpected promotion he’d received from his new Commander-in-Chief, Simon Sterling. He’d been guaranteed a substantial promotion if he proved himself worthy in the New Revolution. Over the course of the previous year, he’d been recruited by some very high ranking officials in the Unified National Guard to be a part of the history making revolution. The country was falling down around them and had been doing so for a very long time. Radical measures were needed if the American way of life was going to continue. Jackson Butler had been on the front lines of many riots and was quick to agree. Something drastic needed to be done.

  When the state governors had deployed their National Guards to maintain law and order in the major cities, Jackson knew it was a step in the right direction. Shortly after, the Unified National Guard was formed. Once the new organization was established, it fell under the direct supervision of the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the seeds of the New Revolution were planted. Contrary to popular belief, the office of chairman never had direct command over any of the armed forces dating back to General Omar Bradley, but instead served as a direct advisor to the president of the United States and the Secretary of Defense. For the first time in history, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff was given direct command authority over a very large military force. Many people in Washington cried out in opposition to the move, stating firmly that command of the Unified National Guard should fall under the Secretary of Homeland Security. With a nation full of frightened and scared citizens demanding action, the time for open debate in the halls of Congress was over. Chairman Moody was second only to the president as commander of the most powerful military on the face of the planet. If the United States wasn't suffering such internal strife, the Unified National Guard could join the Allied Army in the Iranian Theater and bring the war to a close in no time flat.

  General Jackson Butler stood patiently on the lawn waiting for the incoming helicopter to land. The bird was a few minutes overdue, which was to be expected given the EMP attack. Everyone was scrambling to figure out how the attack happened and what was going to be done in the aftermath. Butler wondered if the helicopter was going to make it at all. For all he knew, the damn thing had crashed or wasn't able to take off at all. Communication was practically non-existent on the other side of the Mississippi. He checked his watch for the tenth time in the last few minutes and scanned the sky. Jackson breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the helicopter in the distance. He straightened his uniform and watched the ch
opper land.

  Once the rotors came to a stop, the helicopter sat motionless. General Butler felt self-conscious, like the occupants inside were watching and judging him. After a very uncomfortable two minutes had passed, Jackson began to wonder if he’d made some sort of error. Was he supposed to approach and open the door for them? What were they doing? Where they waiting on him? Should he be doing something instead of just standing there? His nerves got the better of him and he flinched when the cockpit door opened and the ladder descended. He watched as a young soldier quickly exited the co-pilot's seat and opened a compartment at the rear of the craft. A small contraption was rolled around to the cockpit door and was unfolded into a flatbed lift. The lift was raised to the door. General Butler was genuinely confused by what he saw. What are they unloading? Why aren't the passengers disembarking first? What on earth is so important that they have to unload it right now?

  General Butler watched as an old, Hispanic man in a wheelchair was pushed out onto the lift and lowered to the ground. The grouchy looking man worked the controls on his wheelchair and moved out of the way so the rest of the passengers could exit the craft. Jackson was even more surprised to see a striking looking blonde woman exit the helicopter. Who on earth are these people? He was expecting high ranking generals and instead got an old man in a wheelchair and a gorgeous blonde. General Butler hid his confusion and watched as the two men he was expecting exited the helicopter. Finally, something made some sense.