Scientists Say: Earth's Chance of Survival is a Coin Flip
Posted: Sunday, September 18, 2011
by Jack H. Schick
The whole city was in a stopped-dead snarl. An aurora borealis during the day like that shocked everybody. Nobody had taken the warnings too seriously. I have to admit, we in the White house had drastically downplayed the true potential and possible ramifications. After the previous event a week ago, some media outlets had shrieked 'Doomsday', but presidential announcements convinced much of the public that they were crying wolf. But, this afternoon, when the daytime sky turned colors, power went out, and most of the TV and radio stations became nothing but static, everybody panicked. Most of the population started heading for the hills, jamming every street and road in the District.
I have a little kick-start scooter so I just abandoned my vehicle where it was and walked back to the house to get it. I was able to weave my way, on sidewalks and through yards and parks, over to the Center. I was justified in taking my pistol along. A couple of times I had to pull it out. I even had to fire it into the ground once, to keep my scooter from being stolen out from under me by freaked out, desperate people who were trying to get out of town. It wasn’t the only gun shot I heard on my way over there. Things were getting ugly.
The Center has a big propane generator and plenty of fuel so the security system was still operational. I was worried about my swipe card. I’d been having trouble with it lately anyway, but it got me in the side gate. There were extra armed guards at all federal facilities since the Mayor and President had declared a state of emergency when the electricity went out. Not all of them there knew me, so I had to go through the pat down. They took my gun, but let me drag my scooter up into an entry alcove and chain it to a hand rail so it didn’t get ‘borrowed.’
When I got to the Lab, it was pandemonium. There must have been fifty people running around in there. I spotted Dr. Roberts across the room at a computer station looking over the shoulder of a diminutive oriental man in a baggy, lime green leisure suit. Half a dozen interns were huddled around them trying to get a glimpse of the screen, too. I saw Bill Baily over by the coffe room frantically tapping buttons on his cell phone and headed over to him. He shoved the phone back in his pocket with a frustrated groan.
“Bill!” I extended my hand.
“Boogie!” (He’s called me Boogie since college, we went to American together. He’s the only one who still calls me that). “How the hell, did you get here?” He asked.
“I, literally, fought my way over on the scooter. It’s a real mess out there.” I explained.
“I know.” He got a concerned look on his face. “Mary and the kids were trying to get to her sister’s place out at Front Royal. They were at a dead stop somewhere between Arlington and Centerville when the phones went dead.”
“They’ll be okay.” I said, though I really had no idea. “What the hell is going on? It’s a riot in here.”
“I don’t understand all the details. I’m not the scientist. You’ll have to talk to Roberts and Doctor Min” He gestured over toward them. “The sun’s brewing up for another blow. I know that much. That’s why everybody is in a panic.”
“Great, just what we need.” I said. The group around Roberts was eagerly attentive as the doctor rapidly talked and jotted down notes on a pad. He ripped off pages and handed then to several of the interns as the group dispersed. The little, green suited man stood there with his hands clasped together and, what seemed to me to be, a silly grin on his face. “Who’s this Min?” I asked.
“He’s the Vietnamese scientist who predicted all this stuff last year.” Bill and I watched as both scientists turned back to the computer screen and jabbered back and forth. “He was in D.C. giving a lecture last week and Roberts talked him in to sticking around when the first eruption almost happened.” Bill said.
“I see the President and the rest of the crisis council at nine o'clock. They want a detailed report. I’ve got to talk to Roberts.” Bill pulled the phone out of his pocket and began punching in numbers again as I went over to talk to the two scientists.
“Hey Doc,” I tapped him on the shoulder because neither of them had noticed me standing behind them for a good 15 seconds. When he turned around I was a bit taken aback. He looked like hell. Obviously he’d gotten no sleep. His hair was always a mess, but it looked greyer and thinner. Maybe it was just the lighting, but there was an deep concern in his puffy blue eyes.
“Uum…Mister Pickers....Uum...welcome.” There didn’t seem to be much sincerity in his greeting. He turned to the little man in the green suit next to him. “Unm…Doctor Min, this is Mister Pickers. Uum…he’s a representative of our President.”
“How do, you?” the grinning little man didn’t unclasp his hands which he kept folded over his belly, but he gave me slight bow. I nodded back but pretty much ignored him.
“What’s happening? We’ve got a strategy meeting in a couple of hours. They’ll want everything you’ve got.” I said.
“Uum…it’s not good.” He turned back to the computer, manipulated the mouse and enlarged a section on the screen. “Uum…we’ve only got one satellite left. Uum…it’s shielded, but another hit like the one this afternoon and we’re done.”
“So what’s the deal?” I pushed for information.
“Uum…look at this section on the solar surface. It’s as bad or worse that the one the other day that produced the aurora we got today,” he said. “Uum…it could go off or it could dissipate, like the one last week.”
“It’s heads and tails.” Min said, never cracking his irritating grin.
I figured it might be permanent, that maybe he had a stroke or something. I looked at the computer, but didn’t really know what I was seeing. “So, what’s the chance it goes off?”
“Uum…like he said,” Roberts pointed his thumb toward Min. “Uum…it’s fifty, fifty. A coin flip.”
“Its heads and tails, yes,” Min repeated, grinning.
“That’s not good odds,” I admitted. “What happens if it does go off? We'll get hit in, what, 36 hours? We’re pretty screwed up out there already.”
“Uum…if this one erupts it will be the worst yet. Uum…it’s huge. Uum…the solar storm that hits us will be as bad as the one in 1859.” Roberts shook his head then pulled on his right ear like he always did.
“1859?” I said.
“It’s heads and tails, yes,” Min said. I was about ready to slap that grin of his face.
“Uum…the solar storm in 1859 hit us so hard it burned out the Van Allen Belt. Uum...there was so much electrico-magnetic energy hitting the surface that...uum...they could run the telegraphs with out batteries.” He explained.
“So, what?” I guess I didn’t get it. "It doesn't hurt people, does it?"
“Uum…the radiation canm and...uum...it will fry every computer circuit on the planet! Uum…we’ll be done. Uum…it will take decades before we’ll get back to where we are. Uum…no electricity, no communications, no transportation. Uum…hundreds of millions of people will undoubtedly die from starvation and disease. Uum…our society will be knocked back over a hundred years, technologically.”
“I’ve got to tell the President and the council that? I’ve got to tell them we might get knocked back to pre-electric days for ten years?” I could just envision how some of them would react to that.
Roberts and Min were ignoring me again. Roberts monkeyed with the mouse, moving the screen around, enlarging, panning out. He zoomed in on one particular spot and said to Min, “What do you think?”
He leaned closer with that stupid grin on his face and said, “Heads and tails, yes. Heads and tails.”
I gave up and left. I had a little trouble getting the combination to my scooter lock right. My hands were shaking. I made them give me my gun back. I didn’t look forward to trying to get halfway across the city in the dark. I didn’t look forward to giving the news to the President either. It'd knock the grin off his face, too.
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