“There may be hope to settle this matter before our relations sour further, but it’ll take a deft hand.” The President strode toward the door. “Finish your work here, Mr. Hessmire, and join us for the festivities in the atrium. You shouldn’t miss the first solar eclipse of this new millennium.”
Jeffrey found his tongue too thick to reply as the President exited the room. He fumbled for his chair and sank into it. President Bishop had listened to him…had agreed with him!
Thanking the stars for such good fortune, Jeffrey sat up straighter and returned to his work with renewed vigor.
This day promised to be one to remember.
II
During
From the balcony of her office building, Doreen McCloud stared out over San Francisco Bay. The view extended all the way to the piers. She could even see the crowds gathered at Ghirardelli Square, where a party was under way. But the crowds below failed to hold her attention. Instead she gazed above the bay at a once-in-a- lifetime sight.
A black sun hung over the blue waters — the corona flaming bright around the eclipsing moon.
Wearing a sleek set of eclipse goggles purchased from Sharper Image, Doreen watched as jets of fire burst in long streams from the sun’s edge. Solar flares. The astronomy experts on CNN had predicted a spectacular eclipse due to the unusual sunspot activity coinciding with the lunar event. Their predictions had proven true.
On either side of her gasps of delight and awe rose from the other lawyers and secretarial staff.
Along flare blew forth from the sun’s surface. A radio playing in the background burst with a stream of static, proving true another of the astronomers’ predictions. CNN had warned that the sunspot activity would cause brief interference as the solar winds bombarded the upper atmosphere.
Doreen marveled at the black sun and its reflection in the bay. What a wonderful time to be alive!
“Did anyone feel that?” one of the secretaries asked with mild concern.
Then Doreen sensed it — a trembling underfoot. Everyone grew deathly quiet. The radio squelched sharply with static. Clay flower pots began to rattle.
“Earthquake!” someone yelled needlessly.
After living for so many years in San Francisco, temblors were not a reason for panic. Still, at the back of all minds was the fear of “the Big One.”
“Everyone inside,” the head of the firm ordered.
In a mass, the crowd surged toward the open doorway. Doreen held back. She searched the skies above the bay. The black sun hung over the waters like some hole in the sky.
She remembered, then, the one other prediction for this day. She pictured the old homeless woman dressed in rags — and her dog.
Doreen backed from the balcony rail toward the open door. Under her heels the balcony began to rock and buck violently. This was no minor quake.
“Hurry!” their boss commanded, taking charge. “Everyone get to safety!”
Doreen fled toward the interior offices, but in her heart she knew no safety would be found there.
From the cliffs of Glacial Point, Jimmy Pomautuk stared at the eclipsing sun. Nanook, paced restlessly at his side. Off to the left the trio from England shouted to one another in awe, the cold long forgotten in the excitement. The flash and whir of cameras peppered their exuberant outcries.
“Did you see that flare!”
“Bloody Christ! These pictures are going to be fantastic!”
Sighing, Jimmy sank to his seat on the cold stone. He leaned back against the wooden totem as he stared out at the black sun above the Pacific. The quality of the light was strange, casting the islands in a starkness that seemed unreal. Even the sea itself had turned glassy with a bluish-silver sheen.
At his side, Nanook again began a soft growl. The dog had been spooky all morning. He must not understand what had happened to the sunlight. “It’s just the hungry whale spirit eating the sun,” he consoled the dog in a low whisper. He reached for Nanook but found the dog gone.
Frowning, Jimmy glanced over his shoulder. The large malamute stood trembling a few paces away. The dog did not stare at the sun above the Pacific, but off to the north.
“My God!” Jimmy stood up, following Nanook’s gaze.
The entire northern skies, darkened by the eclipse, were lit with waves and eddies of glowing azures and vibrant reds. They spread from the northern horizon to climb high in the sky. Jimmy knew what he was viewing — the aurora borealis, the Northern Lights. In all his life, he had never seen the magnitude of this display. The lights swirled and churned in sweeping waves, like a glowing sea in the sky.
One of the Englishmen spoke, drawn by Jimmy’s shocked outburst. “I thought the borealis wasn’t seen this time of year.”
“It’s not,” Jimmy answered quietly.
The Englishwoman, Eileen, moved closer to Jimmy, a camera glued to her face. “It’s beautiful. Almost better than the eclipse.”
“The solar flares must be causing this,” her companion answered. “Showering the upper atmosphere with energized particles.”
Jimmy remained silent. To the Inuit, the appearance of the Northern Lights was fraught with omens and significance. A borealis in the summer was considered a harbinger of disaster.
As if hearing his inner thought, the totem trembled under Jimmy’s palm. Nanook began to whine, something his dog never did.
“Is the ground shaking?” Eileen asked, finally lowering her camera with a look of concern.
As answer, a violent quake suddenly shook the island. With a stifled scream, Eileen fell to her hands and knees. The two Englishmen went to her aid.
Jimmy kept his feet, fingers still clutching the wooden totem.
“What are we going to do?” the woman screamed.
“It’ll be fine,” her friend consoled. “We’ll ride it out.”
Jimmy stared at the islands, bathed in that otherworldly light.
Out in the Pacific, the most distant islands of the Aleutian chain were sinking into the depths, like gigantic sea beasts submerging under the waves. At long last the gods of the sea had come to claim these islands.
In the garden atrium of the governor’s mansion, Jeffrey Hessmire stared in awe at the total eclipse of the sun. Though he had seen partial eclipses during his twenty-six years, he had never witnessed a total one. The island of Guam had been chosen for the summit because of its position as the only American territory in the path of full totality.
Jeffrey was thrilled at the chance to witness this rare sight. He had finished typing and photocopying the Secretary of State’s notes with enough time left over to catch the tail end of the solar spectacle.
Wearing a pair of cheap eclipse-viewing glasses, Jeffrey stood with the other U.S. delegates by the west entrance to the gardens. The Chinese faction huddled on the far side of the atrium. There was little mingling between the two groups, as if the Pacific still separated them.
Ignoring the tension in the atrium, Jeffrey continued to watch the sun’s corona flare in violent bursts around
