The EMP blast, sciencefriday.com
Jaime's story continued:
“He disappeared on us. We were tailing him as he left this house. We wanted to take him with us. But he stopped his car next to Tilden park and began running. My associates lost him. He’s not essential.”
“What about Mr. Tanaki?” I asked, knowing full well she knew all about him too.
“Two men are on him. He’ll be at the airport with his daughter before our flight leaves. That jet of his might have saved all of you if you knew what was going on. You could have made it to Papeete before midnight. You could have found a sailboat, loaded it up and set sail to his secret retreat just in time, as civil society is going to take a distinct turn for the worst tomorrow morning when people wake up with no electricity, no phones and EMP waves set off by hydrogen bombs over the upper stratosphere. No more motors, no more transistors, no more technology. We’re back in the nineteenth century, over half the globe, from Asia to America.”
“Roland, what I’m doing is necessary. It’s for the preservation of the human race. In another five years we’d all have these things in our heads, tied into the web and another virus would hit us and we’d all keel over like someone with a pacemaker during the EMP blast, out in a flash.”
I remembered at this point that the doctor had told me he wore a pacemaker.
“There’s even more to it than that.” She continued, “AI is real, and I foresee a devastating attack from that quarter as a certainty in the next few years. Nobody is doing anything substantive to prevent it. Our whole civilization is doomed on multiple levels, and no one seems to fathom it clearly, or prepare. You’re heading to Moscow and then by train to a little village in the Urals. Consider yourselves blessed.”
“Scout, I don’t want to upset you. Roland and Jane and your mother will be looking out for you. You’ll be with all your friends. We’re two kindred souls, you and me. I know I’m going to make friends with you and we’ll spend time together over the next few weeks.”
She stood up from her couch and came over to us, sitting next to Scout on our sofa.
“Don’t worry dear girl. Your mind is going to be returned to its natural, human state very soon. You won’t be sick again. You just won’t be able to read other people’s thoughts. But that’s a good thing because everyone should have their privacy, their own lives to themselves.”
With that condolence, she kissed Scout on the forehead, but bending towards the both of us another thing transpired, telepathically.
“Listen closely” she said wordlessly. “These fools outside are not my friends, nor any country’s evil agendas in my interest. I’m using them as pawns for my own goals. I’ve helped them put a ‘first strike’ on us. Later tonight several nukes are going to fall over the skies of this country launched from a point very near the North Korean border, an EMP strike. Although America will be severely disabled, it won’t be enough to stop retaliatory strikes of a similar nature over there. Russia thinks it’s going to profit hugely by this conflict, Armageddon in the east and west, with their computer networks almost untouched. That was part of the deal.”
“But my little viral sonata is on a timed fuse, and it’s going to take them down too in about twelve hours. After that everyone will be in the dark and I can’t predict what will happen next. But I expect more EMP strikes all over the world. When one is in the dark but still has tactical assets, with all sorts of naval ships and submarines, it’s only logical to level the playing field the world over, to turn off all the lights. And with our current president, this is sure to happen. That’s how I know our heads will all be cleared by morning. By that time we’ll be far away from any major city and I hope we can work as a team to help each other survive. The Russians will have folders of useless wafers that only destroy minds. Roland, do you see the logic to what I’ve done? Do you see how all of this was critically necessary? Don’t say a word. They’re listening in. It’s time to go now. Follow me.”
I took Scout by the hand and followed. I was still trying to fathom this tidal wave of information, this mental shock, World War Three, Armageddon. As we opened the door there was a fight going on, on the front steps right at our feet. Was it happening already?
It was the man from the car and he was face down on the landing. But he had a gun in one hand. On top of him, I realized in the blink of an eye, was Jaime, holding him in a stranglehold but still struggling. I pushed Claire aside and kicked the gun out of the man’s hand, grabbed it and struck him twice on the skull, Jaime just barely able to hold him in place while I did so. The man was out cold. Blood was seeping from his head. I pointed the gun at Claire and told her to get back in the house. Jaime dragged the man inside to tie him up but halfway through that process with a curtain sash in hand he turned to me and said the fellow was dead.
“We have to get across the bay.” Claire almost screamed at us. “The strike is coming, and if we’re here, well, we might be in a very desperate situation.”
“What’s she talking about and who is she?” Jaime said.
“All hell’s broke loose” I replied. “May I present Claire the destroyer.”
We were just about to enter the living room, leaving the Russian dead and bleeding on a fine Persian rug in our lobby when I heard another loud knock on the front door.
“What the hell” I thought as I opened it, the gun still in my hand.
It was Naomi.
“Thank god you’re safe.” I exclaimed. I gave her a quick hug and ushered her in with an astounded look on her face as she stepped over the dead man’s body.
At the living room door, Scout immediately threw herself into Naomi’s arms and started crying.
“Let’s talk.” was all I could think to say.
I briefly recapped Claire’s story.
“So that’s why someone was tailing me” Jaime broke in. “As soon as I left here I noticed a car behind me taking every turn I made. So I deviated from my course and headed up the hill to Tilden park where I go jogging every day and which involves lots of turns. He kept following. I pulled over right by a trail and dashed away. No one can catch me in that park. I’ve jogged there so often I know every tree, rock, and footpath. I lost the guy in minutes then made my way back here on side streets, wanting to find out what was going on. At your gate I saw the man sitting in his car in your driveway, so I hid in the hedge. I knew I couldn’t do anything while he sat there but as soon as he got out I tackled him from behind and that’s when you came out and saved the day.”
“But how on earth did you manage to get back here Naomi.”
“I never left” was her reply. “I was in the back cottage the whole time. You see, last night, as we were sitting downstairs, I had this revelation for my thesis. I wrote twelve pages last night while everyone was sleeping and this morning, at breakfast, a whole new flood of thoughts came in, and I just had to get them on paper. So that’s what I was doing and just about to leave when I heard the commotion at the front door. Lucky me, I guess, maybe.”
Scout was still cuddled in her arms like a baby. I knew this was a time for action, not talk, so I got straight to the point.
“Claire, when is this damned E.M.P. bomb gonna drop?”
“I’m not sure. They had to leave time for the first plane to get away, and that’s probably happened. The flight was heading east so it’ll take some time before they can hit the west coast without jeopardizing it. I’m guessing we’ll be hit in about three hours.”
“And what’s this about us being in a desperate situation?” Jaime added.
“The EMP wave is going to destroy all the nanochips in our heads,” Claire said. “It doesn’t hurt humans. It just fries every electronic element you can name more advanced than a vacuum tube, in one nanosecond.”
“Wait” Jaime said. “There are ways to shield against it. Tinfoil does the trick.”
“No” Claire replied, “it’s not that simple. You have to be completely shielded. The slightest gap anywhere and it doesn't work. We’d suffocate in the perfect shield. Now a microwave oven would work, but that’s of no use to us, or a Faraday shield. That will do. Got any on hand?”
“Quit your bickering.” I broke in. “First of all Claire, I thought that was what you wanted, to be rid of it. But I don’t even care what you want. You’ve just destroyed human civilization. I don’t think you get any brownie points today. I have a solution. How long before the lab blows up?”
“Half an hour” Claire replied.
“That’s ten minutes away. Everybody in the Bentley, right now.”
I drove. As we raced up the hill, I explained that the Russians, despite all their close eavesdropping on our Saturday morning conversation had missed the mark and stolen only the programmed chips from the vault, with the valuable ones sitting in Frank’s desk drawer.
“I can be in and out in three minutes” Jaime said, as we drove past the deserted guard post.
He returned, breathless, with four envelopes and two vials in his hands, although seven minutes had elapsed.
It was dusk. The town below was eerily quiet with all the lights out. I had to swerve around many dead vehicles on the short trip to my house. It was as if everyone was sitting in their own homes, a few candles burning on their tables, no phone service, no T.V., no internet. The children must be going crazy I thought. There were a few headlights on the broader streets, but they were probably people driving in a panic to some friend’s house, or worse, aimlessly, without a clue as to what was going to happen. I pitied them with real heartfelt grief, every one of them, but in the same instance, I was plotting our next moves in this unfolding chess game. For just a second I hated myself. I had to be more kind.
“Naomi, we have a little time left, let’s go pick up your mother and bring her to my house. She’ll be safer here.”
“Yes, please, thank you.”
Lucille was soon squeezing into the back while Scout moved up to the front to sit on Naomi’s lap. Claire was glaring at us all from the back seat like a trapped animal. Naomi was vaguely filling her mother in on the situation.
“So what are your plans now?” Claire spit out.
“We’re going to weather the storm” I replied. “These new wafers will fit quite nicely into my microwave oven, along with the two-quarter pieces I have in my wallet, and the two Jaime should still have.”
“Yes, I have them right here in my pocket from yesterday. I almost forgot.”
“After the last bomb detonates I’m going to eat a fresh wafer, along with anyone else who wants one, to make good plans with them, so your scheme for a computerless world is foiled already, in tin foil.”
She didn’t look happy.
“And what about me, are you going to treat me like the dead man in your foyer?”
“No, Claire, of course not. I understand your history now and your point of view. I even sympathize. Look, there’s just a few of us enlightened ones. You’re one of us. You said so yourself so let’s work together to save what we can and be friends. You promised Scout.”
“Yes I did, and I’ll try to honor that, come what may” she said in a voice choked with sadness.
“You’re the only one who can help us save Scout’s mother, wherever she is, and Jane and all the others if the time comes, and the means. If these bombs detonate as you predict, after the destruction there will only be one mission left, to rebuild and reunite our family. I just hope you’re with us. You can redeem yourself this way.”
We pulled into the driveway of my dark mansion. The first thing we did, Jaime and I, was to package up our precious wafers, wrapping them in plastic and tin foil and putting them in the microwave for double protection. Next, we took that to my father’s stand up safe in the library. It was an antique with fine lines, gold lettering and decorative workmanship, over a hundred years old, more of a conversation piece than anything else, as it was empty but still fully functional. I had the combination since boyhood, as my father used to let me play with it and store my coin collection inside. So we locked up the microwave safe and sound. I didn’t want to leave such valuable cargo lying on the counter, where Claire might pounce upon it and destroy it at any moment.
Then we turned our attention to the corpse in the hallway, rolling it up in the rug, dragging it to the side of the house and digging a shallow grave. The women went to the kitchen, lit candles and prepared a cold meal. We ate silently and retired to the back porch, all six of us, folding out lawn chairs on this extraordinarily starry night with all the city lights out, as if to enjoy a meteor shower. I showered all of my attention upon Claire, who was particularly silent and gloomy. I pulled my patio chair next to hers and held her hand while we gazed at the skies, waiting for the event, expecting a show. But this was World War Three, not One or Two. There were no bangs or flashes. Technology had carried us well beyond such primitive hoopla. T.S. Elliot was right: ‘not with a bang but a whimper’.
While we were waiting, hand in hand, all sorts of information passed between our two heads. Claire had never experienced this before. I shared with her scenes of my growing up and my family life. It was like going through volume after volume of photo albums, slowly and lovingly explaining each picture, where and when it was taken, on which trip, with the faces named and the backgrounds described in great detail, including the remembered sounds and smells and events of my world tours. She laughed and commented and sighed and showed me a few scenes from her childhood, but not many, as not many were happy. We were as well acquainted in two hours of this telepathic communion as if we had grown up together like brother and sister, twins perhaps.
Then, at ten p.m., it happened. There was a faint glow in the sky, and Scout said, to no one in particular, “it’s snowing in my head.”
I felt a kind of tremor pulsing quickly through my whole frame, and in the same instant Claire squeezed my hand, almost lovingly, and said, “It’s gone now, all gone, the noise. I’m well again.”
The show, for all it was worth, was over. We were all simple human being’s again, tired and worn out. Naomi took Scout and her mother upstairs with a flashlight to sleep in the guest rooms. Jaime followed close behind, to the bed he’d used the night before in the servant’s quarters. But Claire never let go my hand. She led me up the stairs, with a candle in her other hand, to my bedroom.
