A post 2012 novel Chapter one

(note I have not titled this chapter yet)1

  “Well, gentlemen, what have you found out so far?” President Tom Robinson was asking. He looked around the large oak table at the gathering of the President’s Commission on Solar Activity, comprised of the most advanced thinkers in the nation; stopping at each face for just a moment, he attempted to get an idea of what mankind was facing.2

“Mr. President, “an elderly man whose name was Professor George Blant - MIT, and leader of this commission. “Our readings are inconclusive.”3

“Inconclusive?” Tom asked, attempting to keep frustration and annoyance from his voice. “May I remind you gentlemen of the importance of time in all this? If the Mayan prediction is true, as well as the forecast by NASA four years ago, then we are running out of time fast. I am counting on you; no the world is counting on you to come up with some answers and quickly.”4

A small mouse of a man at the end of the table timidly raised his hand, as if afraid to draw attention. The President looked at him, trying to place the name but failing. “Yes?” Tom asked.5

“Mr. President, Bill Skinner - Georgetown Astrophysics,” he said in a shaky voice. “According to my research, this Solar Storm is going to be the largest in recorded history.” The odd looking man reminded Tom of the Mr. Bill clay puppet in the old Saturday Night Live skits.6

“We know that!” George snapped.7

The President raised his hand to prevent an academic war before it started. “Go ahead Bill.”8

“My research has determined this storm will produce a Roentgeniation pulse in the neighborhood of 300 Roentgens.”9

The other scientists started to mumble amongst themselves, some nodding their heads in agreement as their own readings were confirmed while the others shook their heads no.10

“What exactly does that mean?” the President asked. “What is a Roentgen?”11

“A Roentgen, Mr. President,” George explained, “is a measurement of X-Rays.”12

“X-rays?” the president asked. “Well lead blocks X-rays. They use those lead aprons in hospitals.”13

“True, Mr. President, but you are talking about 50 Roentgens or less. Here, we are talking about 300 Roentgens,” Bill explained. “600 Roentgens would be a global killer, Mr. President. Life as we know it would cease to exist. 300, we could see every electronic device in the world rendered useless. Satellites would fall to Earth, no longer able to maintain orbits, communications would be irreversibly disrupted and every computer in the world would cease to function.”14

This last sent a chill down the Presidents’ back. “Every computer; do you have any idea what that would mean? My God! Everything is controlled by computers!” What will happen to all the satellites and probes flying throughout the galaxy? My God the International Space Station!

The meek little man slunk back in his chair as he looked around the table like a mouse surrounded my hungry cats.15

“Mr. President, let me assure you my esteemed colleagues’ findings are not entirely accurate,” George said, sarcastically emphasizing esteemed with an air of puffed up superiority ringing in his voice.16

“But you said your findings were inconclusive, so how do you know his are inaccurate?” Tom asked accusingly.17

Georges’ face turned beat red as he stumbled over a reply.18

“Because an explosion of that magnitude would be virtually impossible,” a new voice spoke up. The man who saved George sat directly opposite him. Mike Stafford, an up and coming prodigy in the scientific field at Princeton, was dressed in a dark blue three piece, as they all were with the notable exception of Bill.19

“I don’t believe that is true,” a new voice added. Eero (pronounced arrow) Hetkinen was a rising star in Finland. Eero had moved to the United States 10 years ago to accept a teaching position at Yale. He had intense blue eyes, which he now leveled at Mike.20

“Our readings indicate an explosion of no more the 200 Roentgens can be expected,” Mike answered defensively.21

“You are located near Los Angels, is that not correct?” Eero asked.22

“That is correct – why?”23

“My data comes from a monitoring station located in Lapland above the Artic Circle. The air quality is much cleared, with an Ion field much lower than further south. Because the field is so much weaker, we can obtain purer data from the Solar Weather Satellite. This data shows a much stronger build up of magnetic pressure within the Sun,” Eero patiently explained.24

The President sat back, again looking at the gathered faces. He had always prided himself in his ability to read people, hell that is how he got in office, but this bunch of egg heads were just too hard to read, all except poor Bill down there – still cowering in his seat. “Assuming Bill is right, how long before we could repair the damage done by this pulse?”25

“You do not understand, Mr. President,” Eero said. “This pulse would wipe out every electronic circuit on the planet, as well as surrounding space. With no electricity, we cannot repair anything. We would, in effect, be back in the Stone Age.”26

Silence fell on the room as the impact of that statement sunk in. Tom sat staring at Eero, his mind refusing to accept what his ears had just heard. “Eero, we are the most advanced country on the planet; you mean to tell me we have no resources to recover from this?”27

“That is correct Mr. President.”28

The President fixed his eyes on George, “George, is this possible?”29

“Well, umm. Technically it could happen. I mean some of our projections indicated it as an outside possibility,” George stuttered, his self importance washed away.30

“When is this going to happen?” Tom whispered, afraid of the answer.31

“December 7th, 2012,” Bill answered.32

A chuckle escaped Tom’s lips before he could stop it. “How ironic, December 7th 1941 America was bombed at Pearl Harbor in a sneak attacked by the Japanese. December 7th, next year, mankind gets sneak attacked by God. Gentlemen, I want your plans on plausible recovery efforts and I want them by tomorrow.”33

Murmuring broke out from around the table. “Mr. President..” George started.34

“Gentlemen, we have less than one year to prepare for this. I want disaster plans, and I want them TOMORROW!” Tom all but shouted, his anger fueled by feelings frustration and helplessness. He rose and stormed out of the room, leaving the gathered intellectuals with mouths open. The president never lost his temper - until now.35

Once back in the Oval Office, Tom struggled to calm down. Taking several deep breaths usually helped, but not this time; this time it took a dozen before peace started to poke its timid head out of the storm clouds of anger rolling in his mind.36

“Sue, could you come in here please?” he spoke into the intercom.37

Seconds later a short pudgy brunette came strolling into the room, steno pad in hand. He had wanted the pretty blonde secretary, but reason and his wife prevailed, probably a good thing, one Bill Clinton was enough. “Sue I need to you to clear my calendar this afternoon. And I need you to get two professors here.”38

“Yes, Mr. President,” she said holding the pen and looking at Tom waiting on the names.39

“I need Bill Skinner from Georgetown and Eero Hetkinen from Yale. Make it one this afternoon.”40

“Right away sir.”41

Tom sat back suddenly very tired. It had been a long three and half years so far, he had done some pretty good things. He wasn’t normally a praying man, but he found himself muttering a short prayer for guidance under his breath.