In collusion with the earth changing events, were the byproducts of civilization itself. Adding to the already elevated radiation levels was the destruction of the many nuclear reactors throughout the world. Some were swallowed up by the ground itself, others were ejected into the rising water, and some were simply ripped apart as their radioactive materials were released without restraint. Their ensuing meltdowns formed ‘hotspots,’ void of life, and added to the already rising planetary radiation levels. Refineries were ignited as they expelled their seemingly endless supply of natural fuels. There was no corner of the earth that remained untouched from the calamity.
Solar flares continued their assault for the next forty-eight hours as the earth convulsed and moaned through its forced readjustments. Eventually, volcanoes subsided, tidal waves receded, and electrical storms lost much of their tenacity. The tectonic shifts that occurred were such that after years of agitation, they had finally separated to a degree that would inhibit any further significant activity.
The earth was calm once again, but it bore no resemblance to its former self. The skies were a gray and violet hue resulting from the accumulated amount of volcanic ash in the atmosphere combined with the ionized particulates remaining in the clouds.
The seas were now all a deep blue losing their once pristine beaches, white sands, and clear waters. Debris was everywhere. Wind and waves were the only sounds dominating a once vibrant landscape. The birds were gone, the mechanical noise of the cities no longer generated their unnatural sounds, and the sky was hidden. The sun was trying to pierce through the cloud-covered skies but with little effect. Life did still exist on this planet once threatened with overpopulation. Whether or not that life could continue, was yet to be seen.
On what is now known as Day One, the records indicate that global military and civilian systems warned of the impending solar event several hours before impact. Some observers believed the levels of charged particles recorded were the result of malfunctioning equipment, while others turned their attention to the end result. Because of this, the warning had little effect. Those secure facilities that remained opened, allowed some others to enter their protection, while the greater number paid scant attention to the conflicting and fragmented reports. The storm penetrated earth’s atmosphere in the early afternoon. By nightfall, mass panic was worldwide. The entrances were made secure before the day’s end.
Those who made it to the DUMB’s felt the upheaval around them. Some facilities were torn apart from the separation caused by massive tectonic shifts, making their efforts to reach safety in vain. What no one could know at the time, aside from those in the international space station, was that where there were once seven continents, there were now eleven. The world was transformed to the point of being unrecognizable to any of its remaining inhabitants.
Hours after the first, and final, transmission from earth in relation to the massive solar storm, the six members of the international space station looked down on the planet in utter astonishment. No matter what other thoughts tried to break through their concentration, nothing could counteract the mesmerizing effect of the scene unfolding so many miles below. The landmasses were literally separating into smaller segments with some areas seeming to disappear under a rising sea. Smoke from active volcanoes covered much of the sky. The progression was as if it was in slow motion, yet the onlookers knew it was anything but. The earth appeared to have changed its rotation from the dramatic convulsions it had experienced. After an indeterminate amount of time, one crewmember finally spoke the words they were all thinking;
“It’s over. It’s all gone, they‘re all gone,” he said in a hushed voice.
No one could utter a word in reply. A few remained uncontrollably locked in concentration; others could not watch for one more moment. Sometime later, they discovered the body of the only crewman who dared speak hanging from the ceiling, in his quarters. While they all understood, and some even considered it themselves, they could not talk about it. They sent the body into space.
Their attempts to make contact were in vain, as they knew they would be. They rationed their food and drink to make them last as long as possible even though they knew the inevitable. Not one of them had the courage to talk about that. The one wish they all had was to return yet again to the beautiful planet they once knew; not to be with family and friends, all of whom they believed to be gone, but to experience and see first-hand the evolution of this new earth.
11.37 degrees latitude, 88.70 degrees longitude (near the southern end of the Middle America Trench, Eastern side of the pacific ring of fire)
Twenty-one days prior, satellite images reported the departure of the Borei class submarine, the Alexander Nevsky, from its homeport in Vladivostok, Russia. Five hours ago, SSN-775, the USS Texas, a Virginia class submarine, identified the noise signature of the Nevsky just before it came to a complete stop near the ocean’s floor. The Nevsky knew something else was out there, but its crew had yet to identify what and who it was. It was a game of ‘cat and mouse’ regularly played by the two Super Powers.
It was during this time that the cataclysmic events were taking place. Even in the great depths of the Pacific Ocean, those earth-changing events did not go unnoticed or unfelt. The turbulence in the water was such that both vessels had to break silence and initiate emergency power to maintain control of their crafts. It was not only the shifting of the tectonic plates, which affected the force of the underwater currents; it was the sudden eruption of magma through once dormant hydrothermal vents in the sea floor. Unfortunately for the Nevsky, it navigated itself right above one of these vents as it released its molten fluids. The massive craft became impossible to control. Alarm bells were ringing in every compartment.
The Texas immediately ascended the depths to escape the throws of the currents. When it was evident that the seas above were as perilous as those below, it found a manageable condition moving at a depth of thirty fathoms.
It was another twelve hours before the waters were calm enough to come to periscope depth. The captain’s first look showed no cause for alarm. There were seven to eight foot seas, and the sky was a dark gray. He instructed his chief radioman to send the encoded burst transmission prepared earlier. And then they waited.
While the Texas was waiting for a reply, the Nevsky found itself in serious trouble. There were radiation leaks in five of the sixteen missile tubes. Although bad enough in themselves, they were minor in comparison to the damage affecting the vessel’s reactor. The ship was dying; it was just a matter of time. When the crew managed to contain what they could, and generate enough power without causing more damage to the reactor, the captain made the decision to surface. He knew there was no other choice.
Following their slow ascent, the Nevsky waited near the surface until the waves abated. Captain Leonid Bardin preceded his executive officer, and the watch crew, onto the conning tower. When the outer hatch released, he felt the heat from the wind. It was much warmer than he anticipated. He looked in all directions and saw the same thing. A disturbed sea, a gray sky, and off in the distance what appeared to be a fluttering red light, which cast its glow off the sky above. It was a surreal scene as the clouds were unnatural in appearance.
One of the watchmen announced, “American submarine, southeast, two-thousand meters.” When they all turned to view the craft, it too was sitting on top of the water in full view with its own crewman watching the Nevsky.
Captain Bardin reached for the intercom, “Captain Lieutenant Orlov to the conning tower.” As he waited for his engineer, he removed his 8X56 Zeiss binoculars from their case. They had belonged to his father and they were passed onto him as a gift for his first full command. He studied the other submarine as he waited. There was little he could do. His was not a ‘hunter killer’ vessel with the speed and maneuverability to match the American sub, especially considering the shape they were currently in.
“Yes my captain,” Captain Lieutenant Sasha Orlov said as he stepped outside and saluted his commander.
“What news do you have for me?”
“It is the same my captain. The radiation levels are reaching the critical stage and there is nothing we can do to contain them. In a few more hours it will be perilous,” he finished in blunt efficiency.
The captain said nothing, looked back toward the other vessel, and asked his executive officer whether radio communications were as yet operable. They too had been attempting to send and receive signals to their own commands.
“No sir. Nothing, sir.”
