Tim Washburn - The Day After Oblivion

“Current course is eighty degrees, sir.”

“So she’s headed our way, huh?” the captain mumbles out loud. He looks at Garcia. “Think she spotted us when we were tied up with the Grant overnight?”

“I highly doubt it. But my main question is—are we at war with China?”

“That’s a question we can’t answer. Seems strange to have a Chinese ship in the middle of the North Atlantic, though.”

“Could be she was stalking the Russian ship,” Garcia suggests.

“If she was, the crew was doing a terrible job of it considering they’re a day and a half behind.” Thompson pauses, thinking. After several moments, he says, “Unless the Chinese have their helicopter in the air. We failed to ask Murphy if his helicopter is operational.”

“We can ascend to periscope depth and radio him.”

“Call me nervous, but I’m concerned there may be a Chinese sub or two running with that destroyer.” Thompson turns to the sonar technician. “Mr. Adams, any other contacts?”

“Negative, Skipper, but we’re currently sailing through a convergence zone. Detecting a surface ship is fairly easy—anything else is a crapshoot unless we ascend or descend.”

“Roger, keep a close eye on your scope. Q, takes us down to the deepest possible depth.”

Lieutenant Commander Quigley confirms the order and the submarine descends. Thompson steps over to the attack center. “Mr. White, load all four tubes,” Thompson orders. “Conn, sound the general alarm. Battle stations, torpedo.” The Klaxon sounds as the order to man battle stations is piped through the sub. Thompson returns to his spot next to Garcia. “Carlos, I guess the only way we’re going to know if we’re at war with China is if they fire on Murph’s ship. Let’s lurk deep until we know what the Chinese intend.”

“And if there’s a Chinese submarine in the vicinity?”

“I guess we play cat and mouse until we know which side they’re on. There’s a reason for that Chinese ship to be so far from home. I just wished we knew what it is.”

“I hate to rain on your parade, Bull, but how will we know if the Grant is under fire? We’ll only know if she gets hit or some stray ordnance explodes.”

Thompson sighs. “We’re going to have to radio Murph, aren’t we?”

“Yep. I know that’s a dicey proposition, but I’m not seeing an alternative at the moment.”

“Let’s stay deep for a while. With the Grant ’s computer glitch on the Aegis Combat System, he’ll have to get a hell of a lot closer to the Chinese before anything happens.”

“That’s not necessarily true for the Chinese, Bull. If their ship is entirely operational, they’re nearly within missile range of the Grant right now.”

Weatherford

The baby was fussy most of the night, and this morning Gage’s ass is dragging. With the generator sabotaged, Henry is cooking the remainder of the refrigerated items on the backyard grill. The table is already mounded with food and it looks like brunch at a fancy hotel. They’re all hoping the freezer, if they keep the lid closed, will keep the food frozen until they can get one of the turbines running. Gage piles his plate high with steak and eggs and doses everything with hot sauce before taking a seat at the table. Holly is still racked out and Susan is tending to Olivia, who finally fell asleep. Henry comes in and fills his own plate before taking a seat.

Gage forks a piece of steak and asks, “How long do you think it’ll take us to rework the rest of the electrical issues?” He pops the steak in his mouth and chews.

“A day, maybe longer,” Henry replies before feeding a forkful of eggs into his mouth.

“How are we going to ensure this house receives power?”

“I’ve got a few rolls of electrical wire that we can run directly to the house, if we need to. It’ll be a job to unroll by hand because it’s so damn heavy, but one way or another, we’ll get power to this house.”

“What happens to those who don’t receive any power? Some of them will be mad as hell.”

“As I said before, if we can restore power to some of the larger buildings people will have a place to go. And if we can get some of the town’s wells pumping water, I see no reason for anyone to be angry. I should think that would earn a small token of goodwill, wouldn’t it?”

“We can hope, I guess. But we’ll need to keep a close eye on the situation and be prepared to take action if needed.”

Henry pauses, the fork halfway to his mouth. “You talking gunplay?” he asks, the blood draining from his face.

“If it comes to that, yes. I don’t think we have any other options.”

Henry lowers the fork and pushes his plate away, his appetite suddenly gone. “Surely, the situation won’t escalate to that level.”

“It may. And we need to be prepared for that possibility. Maybe come up with a system where those with power take partial responsibility for protecting the turbine.”

“First, we have to get it working,” Henry says. “We’ll figure all the other stuff out later.”

Gage polishes off the last of his eggs and stands, carrying his plate to the sink. He’s halfway there before he stops and turns. “Damn, I forgot the well’s not working. We’re going to need water.”

“There’s a case of bottled water in the garage. That’ll last us a couple of days. Holly’s going to need it the most when her milk comes in.”

Gage nods. “As of last night she was only producing colostrum. The doctor said it might take a day or two before it happens.”

“That sounds about right,” Henry says. They file out of the house and climb into the truck. Gage fires it up and drives out to the turbine, where they slog up the tower. Both are drenched in sweat by the time they reach the nacelle. Gage pushes through the hatch and cranks the doors open, taking a moment to study the debris-filled atmosphere overhead. He shakes his head at the madness that happened only days ago. He turns away from the slate-colored sky and starts to work.

Henry is working on the control panel, rearranging switches and other electrical parts. Gage grabs a ratchet and a couple of wrenches and climbs below the floor of the nacelle and starts disconnecting the yaw motors. After unbolting them and tossing them on the floor, he spends some time studying the giant cogged wheel. He steps over and sticks his head through the hatch. “What are we doing to control the yaw?”

Henry looks up. “I thought about that last night. I’m not convinced the turbine head will rotate with the wind without the computer.” He bends and pulls a notebook out of his work case and spends a moment studying a chart before digging a compass out of the case. After studying that for a moment he looks up. “We need to lock the hub down at 193.65 degrees.” He stands and walks over, passing the compass on to Gage.

“Where’s the hub located now?”

“193 degrees.”

Gage hands the compass back. “That’ll do. I’ll run in a couple of bolts to lock her down. How much work do you have left?”

“I’ll be through up here soon. I still have to check out the transformer on the trailer. The braking system ready to go?”

“Yes. I finished that up yesterday.”

“Good, we’ll use your braking system to control the speed. We’ll run through a good quantity of brake pads, but we have plenty.”

“You see any way we’ll be able to start and stop the turbine from below?”

“Unfortunately, no. I hope your braking device will stop it if the wind speed gets too high, but we’re not going to know that until it happens. Why? You tired of climbing?”