The High Five

Aftermath

The mess now resembled its namesake. They brought in bedding and extra clothes to pass the night. Jess felt obliged to point out that, according to protocol, they should be sheltering in the bunker. But no one was eager to spend time in what, under different circumstances, would have been a lead-lined coffin.

"I'm exercising my captain's prerogative," Milo said to satisfy her. "We're staying put here."

They had a late dinner between rounds of poker. Tayen may have had the best poker face, but Vivian was the real hustler. Remind me again, does a flush beat a straight? she would ask as she turned over another winning hand. Jess was a lost cause. Milo's meager stack of virtual chips would have been a lot taller if he hadn't thrown a few hands her way.

At hour five they took a break to catch some sleep. The scene was like a surreal slumber party with mattresses on the walls and ceiling. Jess and Bobby fell to sleep right off. Milo lay awake, letting his thoughts settle. The sound of the others breathing, or snoring in Bobby's case, was more comforting than any lullaby. At some point he drifted off too.

The crew started waking up after about six hours. The early risers quietly occupied themselves on their phlexes before moving to the table where they were joined by Jess and finally Bobby, who was still recovering from radiation sickness. The conversation was mostly about ordinary, everyday stuff. Who was their favorite band? Did they ever think they would end up in space? What was their most embarrassing childhood memory?

They had a breakfast of scrambled eggs with sausage circles and hashbrown squares.

"What I wouldn't give for some Fruit Loops," Vivian said, holding up a forkful of what looked like yellow Styrofoam. All the food in space had to be non-crumbly.

Jess, "Frosted strawberry pop tarts. With sprinkles."

Bobby, "Cold pizza."

Milo, "I never thought I'd crave a protein bar."

"It's been almost twelve hours." Tayen said. "How much longer is the CME supposed to last?"

"Four more hours give or take," Bobby reported.

They projected an outside view.

The moon was still a black void, but its rim was thicker and brighter than before. There was a halo effect as dust was levitated off the surface and irradiated. The light pulsed and throbbed first at one point on the rim and then another as the solar current ebbed and flowed around it.

Earth was shrouded top and bottom by red ghost-hands with tenuous fingers clasping over the equator. But that wasn't the most eerie thing. The dark side, which was usually covered in a filigree of light, was completely dark. For the first time in the modern age, power was out around the globe.

"Are you picking up anything on comms?" Milo asked. "Do we have any idea how things are going down there?"

"Nothing. Even the emergency channels are just on loop. But listen to this." Bobby piped sound over the room's speakers. There was a rolling susurration overlaid by hisses, screeches, and sizzles. "That's the sound of the CME interacting with the Earth's magnetosphere. Pretty wild, huh?"

Jess's eyes went wide as if she had just seen Doctor Doom in the flesh.

"Turn it off," Milo said. After an uncomfortable silence, "How about a game? Bobby, you got anything on your phlex that works on a local mesh?"

Bobby smiled, which wasn't a good sign. "I've got just the thing. Carnival assassin."

Carnival assassin was a gruesome, hilarious game. A mutagen in the pink lemonade had turned carnival workers into freaky zombies. The players fought back with mutated weapons like harpoon corndogs, water balloons filled with acid punch, and super-gooey spitballs. They battled each other in player versus player mode.