1
Hanna scooted her black leather swivel chair away from her twenty-one-inch computer monitor and turned toward the windows. She felt comfortable and snug inside what she called the executive headquarters of Roadrunner Consulting, not incorporated. This one room dedicated out of the three-bedroom apartment didn’t accommodate what her house in Hereford had, but it sufficed. And Russell and Scott certainly made the loss of space worthwhile. Still, it would be nice if the Flahertys decided to buy a house, she thought. Maybe 2002 would be the year for that.
She watched as the slanting rain pelted the panes, distorting the second-story view of the park across the street, turning the trees into dull green blobs. Typical day in May, she thought. For a moment she longed for the arid climate of the Texas panhandle, but only for a moment. Although it had taken getting used to, she found she enjoyed the riot of green, growing things in Seattle and the beautiful majesty of the mountains and Puget Sound. The scenery was well worth the frequent rain. Besides, her place was with her husband, and her consulting business was a lot more portable than Russell’s work as maintenance manager for Western Washington Utilities.
The background sounds, which she had been ignoring, suddenly climaxed with a loud explosion. “Aw! Lucky shot!”
Hanna jerked around at the sudden outburst and saw Scott scowling into the monitor attached to the test computer. Although that computer was dedicated to trying out new peripheral boards and software, young Mr. Flaherty had more or less appropriated it for his computer games and Internet research. Not that Hanna minded. She got up and came over to where she could see. She glanced at the F-15 fighter simulator’s score.
“Whoa, pardner! Looks like you landed face down in the feedlot.”
Scott peered at her suspiciously. “What?”
“Remember that big feedlot outside Hereford?”
The boy wrinkled his nose as he remembered the colossal bovine mess and smell. “Ew, gross!”
She tousled his hair. He grinned as he smoothed it back in shape with his hand.
“You playing Brian?”
“Yeah. He’s getting good.”
“You both ought to be experts, as often as you play.”
Scott smirked. “I am, at least.”
“Are you bragging?” Hanna saw that the question registered on him, and in a good way. She was grateful for the loving relationship they had despite the fact she was not his mother. He knew she loved him for who he was. He was growing up, which would present its own set of problems before long, especially since he was now officially a teenager.
“Dad gets on me about that too,” Scott said.
She held his serious gaze. “I’m not getting on your case. I just want to see you develop into the fine young man I know you can be. Like your father.”
He shrugged and looked down. “If you say so.”
“Scott. Look at me.” She waited until he did. “You know I care what happens to you. And you know I’m a straight shooter.”
After a few moments he nodded. “Yeah. I know.” A sheepish grin came to his face. “Thanks.”
She tousled his hair again. “You’re welcome, pardner.” She saw the look in his eyes that indicated his nimble mind had jumped track. She mentally braced herself.
“Hanna, have you talked Dad into taking hang gliding lessons yet?”
She glanced toward the door of her office, wondering if the elder Mr. Flaherty were in earshot. “Not yet,” she whispered. “But I’m working on it.”
“You gotta do it! I wanna learn, but he won’t let me.”
“He’s thinking of your safety.”
“But it is safe. You said so.”
Hanna laughed. “So now I’m the authority on hang gliding.” She paused. “It’s safe, as long as you know what you’re doing and you don’t take chances. But whether you can take lessons depends on your dad.”
“Yeah, but you have a say, don’t you?”
She struggled not to smile as she looked into his pleading eyes. “Yes, I do. Your dad and I talk over important decisions, and we pray about them. We generally arrive at an agreement. When we don’t, we either wait, or I trust Russell to decide for us.”
“But...”
“Patience. I think he’ll come around.”
Scott sighed. “I hope so. I’m dyin’ to learn.”
“That’s exactly what we’re trying to avoid.”
“Aw, you know what I mean.”
“Yes, I do. Sit tight, and let’s see what happens.”
Heavy footsteps sounded in the hall.
“Happens about what?” Russell asked as he entered the office.
“We were talking about hang gliding,” Hanna replied. She saw his almost imperceptible hesitation as he glanced toward Scott.
“Ganging up on me, huh?”
The pain was evident on Scott’s face. “Dad! It would be so cool!”
“I’m not convinced it’s safe.”
“Aw, Dad. Hanna wouldn’t do it unless it was OK.”
“That’s enough. Have you finished your homework?”
“I can do it tonight — or tomorrow.”
“We’re going to the McCluskys tonight, and tomorrow’s Sunday.”
“But...”
“Right now, Scott.”
The boy scowled for a moment, then got up and stomped out of the room.
Russell frowned and shook his head. “I don’t know what gets into him.”
“Russell?”
She saw his eyes narrow suspiciously.
“What?” he replied.
“Were you a perfect little kid?”
“You gonna read me my rights?” A faint glimmer of a smile came to his face. “No, of course I wasn’t.”
“Seems to me you turned out nice.”
“I guess, thanks to my folks.”
“Uh-huh. And you have a fine son who is going through the normal problems of being a kid. And he’s entering adolescence. Remember what that’s like?”
Russell groaned. “Yeah.” He shook his head. “I don’t even want to think about it.”
“Don’t lose heart. You’re doing fine.”
He smiled. “I’m trying. I appreciate your help in all this.”
“I’m glad to help. I can never be Scott’s mom, but I love him as though I were.”
“I know. And I know he knows.”
Hanna shrugged. “Can’t hide something like that.”
His expression changed subtly as he thought that over. Hanna could tell something else had intruded. Like father, like son, she thought.
“Dear,” he began slowly, “there’s something about you I’ve never completely understood.”
“Oh?”
“This hang gliding thing. What made you want to do it? I mean, it seems almost as extreme as skydiving.”
“I considered skydiving,” she said, trying to keep from smiling as she saw his look of horror.
“Really?”
“Really. But then I tried hang gliding and decided to give the other up.”
“I’m glad,” he said in obvious relief.
“And that brings us back to hang gliding,” she said with a mischievous grin. “Why don’t you consider giving it a try? It’s lots of fun, and I wouldn’t do it if I thought it was dangerous.”
“I don’t know.”
“Remember when I came up here in ninety-nine?”
“How could I forget?”
“You introduced me to sailing, something I’d never done before. I loved it. And sailing is similar, in some ways, to flying.”
He shook his head. “But it can’t be as safe when you consider what you’re doing and what could happen.”
Hanna struggled to maintain her composure. “Russell! More people die in boating accidents than from hang gliding.”
“Not as many people hang glide.”
“It’s still a safe sport, as long as you’re careful. Why don’t you give it a try? I think you’d like it. It’s something we could do together as a family.”
She was surprised to see a sheepish expression come to his face.
“I’d kinda like to,” he admitted, lowering his voice. “It looks like fun the times I’ve watched you. But I don’t want Scott doing it, and if I do, I wouldn’t feel right not letting him.”
“Why, Russell Flaherty. So that’s what’s been bugging you.” She paused. “I understand your concern, but I don’t think you’re being fair to Scott. Hang gliding is similar to rock climbing or those confidence-building courses. Yes, it can be dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing. But you have at your service an expert instructor.”
“And modest too,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.
“Of course,” she agreed. “Want to give it a try? We could get another glider. I could teach you and Scott. And don’t worry. Scott listens to me. You know he’s a responsible kid, and this would be strictly supervised.”
She watched as his mental gears ground away at her argument. On the one hand she wanted both of them to enjoy the thrill of the sport she enjoyed so much, but she did understand Russell’s concern for his son.
Russell sighed. “I guess I am being overprotective, and that’s not a good thing. OK. Summer’s coming up. Let’s give it a try.”
“Yes!” Scott shouted as he raced in from the hall.
Russell whirled around. “What were you doing out there?” he demanded.
A stricken look came to the boy’s face. “I was coming for my calculator. I left it in here.”
For a moment Russell was silent. “Scott,” he said finally. “I’m sorry. I thought you were spying on us.”
“Yeah. Well, I wasn’t.”
“I was wrong, son. Forgive me?”
Scott nodded. Hanna could tell the momentary hurt was passing as Russell hugged his son.
“So, Hanna finally talked your old man into it, ” Russell said as he tousled his son’s hair. “Just how long have you two been plotting this?”
“We weren’t plotting,” Scott replied as he smoothed his hair. He glanced at Hanna and grinned. “But she’s good, isn’t she?”
“Good and persistent.”
“I prefer ‘goal oriented,’” Hanna replied.
“Whatever,” Russell said. “So, I guess we need to plan this out — find a hang-gliding shop, decide on what to get, research places to practice, that sort of thing.”
“Way ahead of you, Orville. I’ve already done all that. Cascades Hang Gliding and Paragliding has a Wills Raven with your name written all over it.” She glanced at Scott. “Yours too. All we have to do is go pick it up.”
“Pretty sure of yourself, weren’t you?”
“Oh, I thought you’d come around.”
“Can we go get it now?” Scott pleaded.
Russell glanced at his watch. “Not today. We’ve got to get ready to go to the McCluskys. Besides, you’ve got to finish your homework.”
“But, Dad.”
“Grab your calculator and go.”
Hanna saw the conflicting emotions flash over Scott’s face. The joy of his father’s decision to try hang gliding, which opened the way for him to participate, mingled with irritation at having to return to his homework rather than looking at hang gliders. His departure, though in protest, was clearly less tumultuous than his earlier exit.
Russell shook his head. “Public enemy number one twice in one day. How lucky can I get?”
“Hang in there, Pops,” Hanna said. “You’re doing fine — and so is your son.”
“Thanks. ’Preciate your encouragement.”
“Well, I think I can do better than that.”
She saw the twinkle in his eyes. “Oh? And what did you have in mind?”
“Just this.”
She leaned forward and kissed him, gently to see if he was paying attention. He was. He pulled her close, and the rapid beat of her heart shifted into a gallop. Joy welled up within her as she felt herself responding to his embrace.
“I can tell you meant that,” she said after a bit.
“Yes, I did. But there was ample provocation.”
“Oh?”
“You know what I mean.” He paused. “I thank God for you, Hanna. I’m so glad he brought us together.”
She smiled at the warm glow this brought her. “I am too, Russell. Sharing my life with you — and Scott — truly is an answer to prayer.”
Hanna examined his face with her fingertips in a proprietary way. She stopped when she heard a sound in the hall and turned to see Scott grinning at them.
“Forgot something else,” he said as he hurried over to the computer table and grabbed his ruler. He paused at the door on his way out and turned. “Uh, you two can carry on.” He disappeared.
Hanna looked into Russell’s eyes. “You heard him.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He leaned forward and kissed her.
* * *
Zhu Tak-shing shifted nervously in his chair as he looked down on the control room located a few blocks from his Kowloon manufacturing plant. He peered through the one-way windows at the tiers of consoles arrayed below him, facing a panoramic world map as large as a theater screen. The cities of the world stood out clearly, linked by orange lines representing telecommunications links and red ones for the power grids. A countdown clock in the map’s upper right-hand corner reached the one-minute mark. A loud klaxon sounded. Zhu leaned forward. Every operator was in place. It reminded Zhu of pictures he had seen of the Johnson Space Center’s Mission Control.
Zhu jumped as the door behind him opened with a loud click. He tore his eyes away from the clock and saw Jiang Ling enter the dimly lit observation booth as if he were only a little late for a matinee. His boss had ordered the demonstration but apparently attached little importance to it.
“Ah, I see I am just in time,” Jiang said as he eased into the chair beside his technical director.
“Yes,” Zhu said through clenched teeth. “Per your instructions, the test is underway.”
“Everything is normal in Chongqing?”
“For a few more seconds, yes.”
“I still find it hard to believe that a handful of sabotaged chips can devastate an entire country.”
“You will see for yourself.”
The countdown clock reached zero and began to count upwards, as if timing a mission, which in fact it was.
Jiang turned. “Nothing happened!” He pointed toward the elaborate map. “The telephone system is still up.”
“The map is not real-time. All telecommunications in Chongqing are down. I’ll stake my life on it.” A chill ran down his spine as he considered this could literally be true.
All the orange lines linking the city to the rest of China winked out.
“There,” Zhu said pointing.
“So, they can’t use their telephones. What happens next?”
“It’s not only Chongqing. We have cut off communications to much of central and western China. And very shortly their power grid will fail, leaving around thirty million people without electricity.”
“Why would it affect the power?”
“The power transmission control centers require telephone lines to operate. Without them the interconnections will trip, and there isn’t enough generating capacity near the city to sustain the load.”
“How soon?”
“I’m not sure. Within minutes, probably. This will shut down the hospitals since they don’t have emergency power. All traffic lights will fail, the airport will shut down, and the trains will stop running. The water and sewer systems will quit. Within a day or so, if we let it go that long, trucking would cease for lack of fuel. And how long would the people last with only a week’s worth of food in the markets? It’s impossible to say whether more people would die of starvation or the riots. People fleeing the city would strip the countryside and all the towns and cities within reach. Imagine the effect on an entire country, not just one city.”
Jiang nodded. “And no way to repair it.”
“That’s right. Since all the replacement chips have the same defect, there’s no way to get the switches back up — at least not for a long time. And by then our enemies are back in the dark ages.”
“Where they belong!” Jiang said with feeling.
Zhu nodded. “As you say.”
“Don’t you agree?”
“Yes, of course,” Zhu said after a barely perceptible pause.
They watched the map in silence. Although he had been expecting it, Zhu still jumped when the red lines representing the power grid winked out.
“There,” he said. “From this point it is simply a countdown to chaos. You’ve just seen the Raptor Virus in action. We can overcome it because we’ve got the correct repair parts.”
“How long to restore everything?”
What do you care? Zhu thought to himself. “A few hours. Our technicians are already entering the switch rooms to start repairs. Per your instructions, we will not bring the switches up for another twelve hours so we can more fully study the effects.”
Jiang nodded. “Good. I regret the inconvenience to those in Chongqing, but we must think of the greater good to our nation.”
“Of course.”
* * *
Zhu jumped when the phone rang. He shivered as he reached for the handset, since he had left explicit instructions not to interrupt as long as Jiang was in the control center.
“Put it on the speaker,” Jiang ordered, his voice soft but sheathed in steel.
Zhu nodded and pressed the button. “Yes, what is it?”
The technician’s voice seemed painfully loud in the confined room. “Sorry to bother you, but we have a problem.”
“What is it?”
“We’ve had two disturbing reports from the repairmen so far. They say they can’t fix the switches.”
“What!” Zhu stammered, his voice rising. “Why not? What’s wrong?”
“The damage is greater than they expected. Smoke was coming out of the switches. They replaced the defective chips and started the emergency generators, but the units refuse to come up.”
“That can’t be!”
“They have tried everything they can think of. We suspect the power supplies are bad, but it could be more than that. There aren’t any spares, so they don’t know for sure.”
“So it may take more than power supplies.”
“Yes.”
Zhu rested his head in his hands. “And if any of the other boards are bad, that will further delay repairs.” An icy chill stabbed him in the pit of the stomach. Chongqing was going to be without phones and power for a lot longer than twelve hours.
“That is true — just a minute.”
Muffled sounds came from the speaker; then the technician came back on. “More reports. It looks like all the switches have the same problem.”
Zhu uttered a sharp curse. “We have to replace the entire switches. Where are the closest spares?”
“Right here. We have some in Kowloon and Hong Kong.”
“None closer to Chongqing?”
The man paused. “No. The mainland cities have very little in the way of spares. The infrastructure is spread too thin.”
“What is he talking about?” Jiang demanded.
Zhu jabbed the mute button. “Chongqing won’t have phones or power until we replace all the burned-out switches.”
“I thought only the chips needed replacing.”
“Apparently the virus caused other boards to fail. We’ve seen it happen before in our testing.”
Jiang pushed back in his chair and glared at his subordinate. It took all of Zhu’s self-control not to shudder.
“Find a way to fix it!” Jiang said as he got up.
Zhu stood. “I will. Can you authorize me military transportation?”
“I will let you know,” the man said as he stormed out.
* * *
The engineer cursed and placed a hand on the engine’s throttle. The express train from Chengdu to Chongqing was already hours late. The engineer had been looking forward to getting home for several days now, only to be thwarted by a seemingly endless series of mechanical glitches. Now the signal lights were out. What next? he wondered.
Rain pelted off the windshield as the engine continued to plow through the combination of rain and fog on its approach to the mountain city. By regulation the engineer knew he was supposed to stop. But the last signal had been green, and the track was supposed to be clear all the way into the station. The thought of sitting in the engine cab for however long it took to fix the signals was almost more than he could bear. They were only a few miles from the station. He could always say he had passed the last signal before the failure. Who would know? He glanced at his assistant.
“Are you going to stop?” the man asked.
“Do you like your job?”
The look of shock on his face was obvious. “Yes, of course I do.”
“And you understand the engineer is in complete charge of the train?”
The man nodded.
“Good. Remember that, and I will make sure your future is assured.”
“Please forgive me.”
“We will say no more about it.”
The wheels screeched as the train rounded a curve. Not long now, the engineer thought. He reduced power a little, preparing for the approach into the city. A spark of red light pierced the murk up ahead.
“What?”
The engineer leaned forward, his eyes wide in disbelief. He jerked the power off and slammed on the air brakes as the express bore down on the bedraggled figure signaling frantically with a flare. The man ran for his life as the engine roared past. Then the engineer saw it — a stalled train blocking the track. He needed no glance at the speedometer to know they would never stop in time. His scream joined that of the tortured wheels sliding over the wet steel rails.
A split second later the engine plowed into the car ahead. The impact lifted the rear car of the other train and shoved it to the side. The engine’s nose collapsed backward, pulverizing both men in the cab instantly. The rear passenger car bounded aside and rolled even as the engine rammed into the next car. Each succeeding car flew off the track as if each were part of a giant zipper. Finally the engine jumped the tracks and began gouging a deep furrow in the muddy earthen embankment. The trailing cars derailed and started colliding randomly with the other train. Finally it was over, and the cries of the injured could be heard over the wind and rain. Dazed and injured passengers staggered out of the wreckage, looking for help that was not to be found.
Home Books About Frank Email me!
©2009 Frank Simon