They said things would never be the same. The knife edge of a moment, separating the world of the past from the uncertain world to come.
Of course, it was more than a moment. The Black Christmas attacks had occurred across hours at least. If Esther and the others at the party had been listening to the news they would already have heard about the first huge blackouts in China, swiftly followed by attacks on major Internet and phone hubs worldwide. Even some satellites had been disabled.
And then the nuclear missile from Pakistan, India's response, and the sudden spread of blackouts and other attacks on infrastructure. The airliner that plunged into the Atlantic, after barely missing the White House. London's largest bombing yet, in a subway tunnel, and other bombings. Berlin, Kinshasa, Toronto, Adelaide, Riyadh. The nerve gas attacks in Tokyo and New York City.
A broad range of terrorist and separatist groups claimed responsibility for various actions, though none pretended to have orchestrated everything. The level of coordination seemed impossible, and indeed there were already anonymous leaks to American media that the intelligence agencies had suspected something was coming. But conspiracy theories were running wild, and why not? It was the biggest conspiracy in history.
The nuclear missile had struck a remote location in the mountains of northern India. It had still probably killed over ten thousand people in a small cluster of villages. A tragic accident, according to the Pakistani government, in one of their few official statements.
Raj said it was only the remoteness of the target that had moderated India's response. "It would have been millions dead in Delhi, instantly. Vastly more if they'd sent all of their missiles. And then Pakistan would have been flattened as well, perhaps with help from America, and China or Russia might not have let that stand—oh, it's terrible to think this is a best-case scenario, but it could have been so much worse."
Phone lines were still mostly non-functional, cellular service everywhere overloaded or awaiting repair, and their only access to the Internet was at Kat's computer lab down at San Jose State, running on backup generators and a slow satellite uplink. Luckily she let them in at night to avoid the crowds. Raj hadn't yet heard from his parents, but he was no longer greatly worried. Mumbai was far from the nuclear strike, and aside from communications outages it hadn't been directly affected by other attacks.
The North Bay fires were the worst of the disaster in America, and among the worst anywhere. The official death toll was over four thousand, and it was still rising, though the fires were slowly coming under control. But in some ways the sarin attack on the New York subway was just as terrifying. There had been other deadly fires, and the widespread blackouts all alone were proving capable of killing people. The modern world wasn't designed to be without power, and it had already been three days.
Three days. Esther couldn't afford to be blind any longer.
* * *
Javier held her tight until she relaxed enough to take the plastic pencil case out of her mouth. Having her clamp her teeth on that had been Grace's reluctant suggestion. Everyone hated this as much as Javier, but it was impossible to stop Esther once she'd decided something. They'd made her take a high dose of aspirin, for what little good it might do.
"I found them," she said, wiping sweat from her forehead. "They're sitting in the bath together. Cold water, I'm sure. The pain must be awful but they seem otherwise all right. I tried to send Nicola a message but I doubt she noticed."
Selena nodded. "For me it's nearly tolerable now. They can probably handle it. But my senses are still overwhelmed."
Selena had retrieved her car yesterday, and she was planning to make the long trip up to the camp the next morning, detouring around the blockages on I-80. At least she'd have access to her plane once she got up there, assuming the airport was dug out from the snowstorm and any other damage.
"Don't do that again," said Javier, stroking Esther's forehead. "You can wait. If you're still this disabled, so is everyone else."
"No," said Esther. "Only those with great sensitivity. I wish I could understand how this got around my defenses. Like an ancient place, but even those I can resist now. I can probably do the same with this vision, if I can just tolerate it for long enough."
Javier shook his head, but Esther lay back on the bed, putting the pencil case back in her mouth. All he could do was hold her tight as she closed her eyes to torture herself again.
The first time she'd let out a muffled moan. This time was worse. Just whimpers, her body shaking with effort. He'd give her five more minutes, and then he'd shake her or kiss her or do whatever he needed to get her back.
She let out a last grunt and opened her eyes, gratefully accepting the cup of water Javier offered.
"I think I did it," she said. "A kind of temporary solution, anyway. You'd call it a hack. But I'm too exhausted to do anything else. I can sense all of you, though, faintly. The Watch. Everyone's all right. Geoff's driving back from Las Vegas."
"OK," said Kat. "That means you get to rest now and let Javier's Mamá stuff you with food."
There were gasoline and propane shortages, and everywhere was sold out of grills and camping stoves. But in a back corner of the basement they'd found a functional old gas grill and, somewhat alarmingly, a mostly-full twenty pound propane tank. It was the first useful thing to come of the mess down there.
Over dinner they discussed the latest news. Power was back on in New England, after routing around a dozen burned substations. The British government had issued several belligerent statements, promising they'd find the perpetrators and demanding international cooperation despite having spent the last six months burning bridges with the rest of Europe. Still, everyone needed to know who was responsible.
The American government was unnervingly quiet about the whole affair, simply promising there were ongoing investigations. There was a leaked recording of the frantic exchange between the ground and the airliner that nearly hit the White House, including the last rantings of the pair of men who had hijacked it. They seemed to be radical Bosnian Serbs incensed over the NATO intervention. One of the men had suddenly screamed in agony, and the plane's course wobbled. It was just enough to save hundreds of people in the White House, including the president, vice president, and other politicians attending a Christmas party. But the two hundred dead on the aircraft would have dominated Americans' thoughts, if there weren't so many other disasters.
Dozens of people around the world had come forward to say they'd felt the atomic bomb blast, and there were even more second-hand reports of people fainting or experiencing sudden pain. Was it divine intervention? A symbol of the connectedness of the modern world? Alien transmitters implanted in people's brains? Ordinary coincidence, remembered only because of the Black Christmas events?
"Whoever sent that vision is going to be in trouble," said Mamá, serving herself more potatoes. "A lot of people will be looking for them. People upset at the pain, upset because their plans were messed up, or because now other people suspect them. Like that Australian politician who collapsed while giving an interview."
"I know," said Esther. "I'm going to try to find the sender, when I can. And I worry about the way Changed people were exposed. The public doesn't know what it meant to be hit by the vision, and even many of the Changed wouldn't have known. But I'm sure some governments will have figured it out. And they might assume everyone affected is a potential terrorist."
Javier frowned. "Probably exactly opposite the effect the Chosen wanted. Or whoever it was. I wonder what they're thinking in the Oregon colony. Surely it hasn't worked out how they expected."
"Not yet, at least," said Kat. "I have a bad feeling things are nowhere near finished."
* * *
Esther opened her eyes and smiled at Javier's sleepy face. She ran her hands down his naked back, resting them on his butt the way he liked. He sighed and stroked her lightly on the back. His penis started hardening against her, but she was sore, so she reached down to stroke him gently. It had been a wild evening, the best sex they'd had since doing it with Nicola and Mark up at the cabin. Barely a week ago, and it felt like eternity.
Before last night, she'd been missing her senses, and trying to make sex work had been hopeless. Even now things were slightly askew, a side effect of the strange double vision she had in otherspace. It was the slight disconnection from her body, the careful distance she had to keep to avoid the still-potent effects of the vision. But apparently it was good enough to get her the orgasm she'd needed so badly. She'd rubbed herself a bit too hard in the process. If she really lubricated properly, like Nicola ...
