36 Hours: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Fiction Series by Bobby Akart Read Free Book Online Page A

comes,” exclaimed the tour guide gleefully. “See these sudden, intense hiccups and burps? These are called solar flares and coronal mass ejections.”
    “The sun has solar indigestion!” The children’s teacher laughed, but for once, the kids were focused on the presentation.
    “I guess you could say that,” added the tour guide. “But the effects of these types of space weather events are not so pretty. When all of these X-rays and charged particles reach Earth, they can cause trouble.”
    The children stopped talking amongst themselves and turned their attention to the guide.
    “Like what?” asked one child with trepidation.
    “Bad space weather can interrupt radio signals. It can damage satellites. Ships at sea may not be able to use their navigation equipment. Their two-way radios may not work. And sometimes, the power of the sun can cause damage to the electrical systems that bring power to our homes.”
    “Like a blackout?”
    “That’s right,” she replied. “That’s why the SWPC—the Space Weather Prediction Center—is so important. Just as we need early warnings about hurricanes, tornadoes, and other bad weather, having early warnings of bad space weather helps us keep damage from solar flares to a minimum.”
    She led the class down a corridor and through a double set of doors. The group entered a soundproof, glass-enclosed auditorium overlooking the scientists inside the Space Weather Forecast Office of the SWPC. Monitors provided multiple views of space and the sun. Some screens provided external views of orbiting satellites, and there was a constant stream of data and numbers being produced on the large displays in the center of the room.
    The kids settled into the theater-style seating, and the tour guide was about to continue her presentation when one of the children spoke first.
    “Are those two men going to fight?”
     
    *****
     
    “We can’t keep a lid on this!” said one of the space forecasters as he slammed down a pile of time-lapse photos of the sun.
    “You don’t think I know that,” replied his adversary, who was also his superior. “But it hasn’t done anything yet. How do I justify raising an unprecedented threat awareness based upon no track record?” The two scientists stared at each other, hands on hips, with only a cluster of computer monitors separating them. All eyes were on them, including the visiting schoolkids in the gallery.
    The SPWC Forecast Center was jointly operated by NOAA and the U.S. Air Force. Its primary responsibility was to provide global warnings for disturbances that could affect people and equipment impacted by everything from solar flares to asteroids. The services they provide influenced the decision-making processes of NASA, the armed services, the FAA, the Department of Transportation, and FERC—the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, which regulated the power grid.
    The men remained in a standoff until the scientist, after deliberately pounding the keyboard of his computer, brought the far-side image of the sun on all the large wall-mounted monitors. On display was the most recent image indicating the massive coronal hole that had formed on the northern hemisphere of the sun.
    The space weather forecaster who raised the alarm took off his glasses and walked around the room. He studied the faces of his co-workers.
    “Do you think that will disappear overnight? Seriously?” he asked sarcastically while pointing toward the monitors.
    The sun slowly, almost imperceptibly, rotated on the screen as it fluxed and oscillated. It looked like a gigantic fusion reactor preparing to create a massive release of energy.
    The senior scientist broke the silence. “Give me the current forecast—best available estimate.”
    The space weather forecasters all turned their attention back to their stations, and the keyboards began to clatter. The monitors changed as each of the forecast models were determined.
    “First up, what’s the radio blackout