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No one said anything. Jake sat down and Sophia climbed into his lap.

Hallstrom continued. “I accept your apology. It’s really no different from us not realizing that Cronkite was monitoring our videoconferences. So we both made the same kind of mistake. And Jake, I’d like to apologize for what I said afterward. You didn’t deserve that. And of course the ultimate responsibility lies with Cronkite, not you. He’s the one who pushed the button. Let’s try to forget that it happened.”

Jake covered Sophia’s ears. “Forget that I may have killed tens of thousands of people?”

Hallstrom shook his head. “No, you made a mistake that happened to have a bad outcome. Let me tell you a story. A friend of mine put on her brakes on an icy road. Perhaps she should have had a lighter touch, but the car skidded out of control. I’m sure that’s happened to all of us. It’s happened to me. But in her case, the car skidded off the road and killed two pedestrians. A little mistake with a big consequence. She should only be blamed for the small error. She just had bad luck. That’s what’s going on here. Let’s move on.”

Secretary of Defense Guccio clapped Jake on the shoulder. Jake looked at Charli, but she didn’t meet his eyes.

Everyone turned when Major Frank Cobb made a noisy entrance with one arm around Salty Whitington’s shoulders. Everyone at the table applauded. Cobb pointed to Salty. “This is the hero. He’s the one who saved the mission.”

Salty smiled and shook his head as he walked to the table with a rocking bowlegged gait. He had his sextant case with him.

Hallstrom shook their hands. “I’m not sure how you justified using the Peregrine, but I’m glad you did.”

“We were minutes away from a test flight to Florida anyway,” said Cobb. “So we simply got re-purposed.”

Salty loaded his plate. “Nice plane, with a lot of kick, but I’d rather have my old Stearman biplane.”

“Salty flew in World War Two,” Cobb said.

“It’s okay for a test plane, though. And everything worked pretty well until our friend showed up.” Salty put his plate on the table.

Jake looked up quickly. He had apparently been out of the loop on this.

Salty launched into his story. “It happened over the Midwest. We start feeling this turbulence.” He took a seat.

“Right,” said Cobb. “We’re going Mach 3.5, and the plane starts feeling … squirrelly. It’s like some strange turbulence or problem with the control surfaces. I’m thinking, uh-oh. Remember, we’re in a test plane and we have no support. We’re out of radio range, no chase planes.”

Salty swallowed a bite of scrambled eggs. “So I get the feeling that someone is watching me. Crazy, right? I can’t shake it. So I start looking around.” Salty mimed looking around. “And folks, my neck ain’t what it used to be, so I can’t turn very far, but I turn as far as I can to the right, and I say ‘Ah, Frank … check out the tail. Right side.’”

Cobb said, “I look back at the stabilizer, expecting to see, I don’t know, some anomaly or deformed part.”

“It’s the sphere. It’s just there, flying along in formation with us. Like, this close.” Salty held his hands inches apart.

Cobb took up the narrative. “I cut the speed and try some evasive maneuvers, but I can’t shake it. It’s like it’s been welded on.”

“Now, are you guys ready for the piece of resistance?” Salty took a big bite of sausage.

Major Cobb sat back and smiled.

Salty finished his bite, swallowed and said, “Damned if that sphere doesn’t move right over my head, and, I’m not making this up, it starts tapping on the canopy. Tap, tap, tap. Just like that.” Salty mimed straining to look straight up and tapped the butt of his fork on his forehead.

Cobb said, “I’m subsonic now, but the sphere is just totally messing with the aerodynamics. I’d figure out how to compensate for this thing or, I should say, the computer would figure it out, and then it would move. It’s like we had this huge beach ball glued to the plane. Alarms sounding all over the place.”

“So far,” said Salty, “everything was nice-nice. Just a little friendly ‘Hello there, Earthlings, isn’t this fun?’ tapping. But then—”

Cobb slapped the table hard enough to rattle the silverware. “Then all hell breaks loose. The electronics go out for about one second, and I find out how well this plane flies without the computer.”

“And the answer is …” Salty paused dramatically then pointed his thumb down and made a wrong-answer-buzzer sound. “It doesn’t.”

“Right, we have a flameout and I have no control over the plane. I try everything, working like mad. We start descending. The manual says ‘Do not delay ejection if the aircraft is in an uncontrolled condition,’ and I tell Salty to get ready to eject. But I’ve got to hand it to the programmers; the engines restart like clockwork, and we’re soon straight and level. I didn’t do a thing. I’m going to kiss those guys if I ever find them.”

“But we aren’t out of the woods yet,” said Salty. “Our little adventure kind of shook things loose.”

“Right.” Cobb nodded. “We have five systems down, including the one we needed most, the inertial guidance. According to that, we’re somewhere over South America.”

“So we continue with man’s oldest navigation tool, my friend and yours, good old dead reckoning. We know how fast we’re going and what direction, but because of our little do-si-do with our outer space nincompoop, we’re a bit fuzzy on current location.” Salty chugged down the rest of his orange juice then reached over to the pitcher and poured himself another glass.

Jake watched him chug it down.
How does he stay so slim?

Cobb shook his head. “I’m hoping the clouds will break by the time we get to DC, but no such luck. I tell Salty it’s time to bring out the very latest in seventeen-hundreds technology.”

“So I bring out Sexy Sadie the Sexy Sextant. I’ve had this girl for seventy years. I thought you might like to meet her.” Salty put the teak case on the table, undid the latches, and pulled out the sextant.

“How old are you, Salty?” asked Charli.

“I’m ninety-three years young, Ma’am.” He held up his sextant so all could see it and then gently placed it back in the case. “So, Frank keeps the ship nice and steady, and I take a sight—easiest sight I ever took, much easier than on a rocking sailboat. And guess what? We’re already one hundred miles out to sea. From then on it’s a piece of cake. We make a U-turn, head up the Potomac, make a pass at the White House, then on to Reagan. The rest is history.”

Sophia tugged on Jake’s sleeve. He leaned down, and she whispered in his ear. “
Me gusta Senor Salty.
” I like Mister Salty.

Charli must have caught it, and she looked at Jake with raised eyebrows. He nodded.
That’s right, Sophia’s talking again.
Charli went back to her breakfast. She smiled and had a tear in her eye.

The chief technician came in and walked over to the table. “Mr. President, we have Edwards Air Force Base on the shortwave.”

* * *

The White House’s central heating was down. Jake shivered by the windows of the Oval Office in his LL Bean down vest. He hugged himself.
Wish I had my wool hat.

A state-of-the-art, battery-powered shortwave transceiver sat on the historic “Resolute” desk. This was the best place for it; the president would be using it frequently. Jake turned away from the windows and joined the president.

Hallstrom spoke into a large desk microphone. “General Stetson, I can’t tell you how glad we were to get word that the outage isn’t worldwide. What’s the latest information we have on this event?”

Stetson’s voice was clear. “Within the area of the disruption, all electrical devices were destroyed. This wasn’t anything like the EMP events we’ve been preparing for. There was no evidence of an explosion, and the destruction was more comprehensive. For example, a Faraday cage would—”

“Hold on,” Hallstrom said. “What’s that?”

“Sorry. It’s simply an enclosure that’s surrounded by conductive material. It blocks out electrical waves. Normally, if you were to put some electronic device inside one of these cages, it would be unaffected by the EMP—protected. That’s not the case here. Whatever Cronkite did worked via some other mechanism.”

“General, Jake Corby here.” He leaned over to the mic. “What about older equipment, cars with no microchips, for example? Isn’t that usually immune?”

“Yes, sir, that’s correct, but whatever this event was, it also put those things out of commission.”

“What do you see as the biggest problem?” The president checked off an item on his list.

“People who are dependent on medical devices. We’re setting up evacuations for DevDeps—sorry, device-dependent people. We’ll have many commercial airliners flying to major airports to get those people out.”

“Do you have enough planes and pilots for that?”

“Considering that all normal flights are suspended, yes, we have a lot of aircraft available.”

Stetson went on to detail other plans and ideas.

When he finished, Hallstrom asked, “What about additional strikes? Could Cronkite just do it again?”

“He certainly could. We’re pretty defenseless. We’re looking into whether anything deep underground survived and seeing if there’s anything that can be done, but so far the answer is no. We are at his mercy.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

September 26, 2018

“Harold, yes it’s bad. Yes, it’s a disaster, but we don’t yet know how bad it is. Panicking will not help, and that’s exactly what you are doing.” Marie spoke with a relaxed tone. Yet another town meeting with a barely-under-control Mayor Harold Myer. She took a deep breath.
I am so done with my civic duty. I need a break.

Doc Swanson stood up. “I’m sorry it’s come to this, but I move that Mayor Myer be, what’s the word?”

“Demoted,” said Town Councilperson Irene Eisenberger.

“Okay, demoted,” continued Doc, “and that he be replaced by Marie.”

“Second,” said Irene.

Harold’s jaw dropped.

“All in favor?” Doc looked around. Everyone but Marie responded with “Aye.”

“Opposed?”

“I’m opposed, damn it,” Marie said. “Mayor is the last thing I want to be. I finally found a replacement for Sheriff, and I’m tired. I’m old. Anyone notice that?”

“Motion carried,” said Doc. “I’m sorry did you say something, Mayor Keller?”

She didn’t get a chance to respond, and ex-Mayor Myer didn’t get a chance to storm out, because they all heard shouting from outside. Ecstatic shouting. Marie jumped up and was first to the exit. The deep-throated roar of a jet aircraft hit her in the belly. She ran out into the parking lot and looked toward the sound. A huge military transport, flying low.
Too low?

“Doc, do you know what that is?” she asked when he came up beside her.

Swanson shielded his eyes. “That there be a C17 Globemaster. Has a range of over ten thousand miles.” He saluted it.

“Why is it so low?” Marie watched people on the ground waving, cheering, and jumping up and down.

“Good question. Wouldn’t need to be that low to drop paratroopers. Loud, huh?” Doc had to shout.

Seconds later they had their answer. As the plane passed overhead, an arm snaked out of a porthole, and a burst of confetti-like papers streamed out behind it.

“Leaflets,” Marie said.

Marie and Doc watched the aircraft climb, waggle its wings, and change course.

“On to Marysville,” Doc said.

A young boy came running up with one of the leaflets. She and Doc read it together.

Citizens of the United States

Please take this leaflet to your local seat of government.

All electronic devices within 2,100 miles of Washington DC have been destroyed. Outside of this area, electronics continue to function normally.

A massive resupply operation is underway.

Soon, most towns or areas will receive an air-drop that includes portable radios. Important information will be broadcast around the clock.

Other emergency materials will be supplied by truck, rail, and sea.

Evacuation of those requiring medical attention is planned.

The US Government and the rest of the world are working to provide you with the help you need to recover from this situation. I, President Dane Hallstrom, am directing this effort, via radio, from Washington DC.

Please spread this information.

Please be patient and remain calm.

Sincerely,

President Dane Hallstrom

Ex-Mayor Myer went into the building and returned with a bottle of whiskey and paper cups. They toasted the departing plane, at that point just a speck in the sky.

* * *

September 27, 2018

“Ho! And pull back on the reins like this.” Marie looked at Nobb to make sure he understood.
Ah, if I were sixty years younger …
“The horses must stop immediately. Never let them continue for even a step or two. This is your emergency command if, say, a harness breaks or if the buckboard fails.”