Quintessence

58 Percent.

I’m not a sociologist, nor am I any type of psychologist, so I’m not sure exactly what I would call this period of human history. Our historians have called this period the Decline, as a reference to the fall of the accomplishments of hundreds of years of industrialization and capitalism. Still, I don’t think this entirely accurate. While that one particular form of consumerism was eliminated, society itself did not completely fail. Instead, it was this global tragedy and the constant threat of annihilation which eventually sparked a sense of oneness and community on a scale that man had never before encountered. It turned out that all but the most bigoted and xenophobic were eager to accept help from those they once hated if their choice was either that or face the slow death of starvation.

That is not to say communities of these diehard extremists didn’t exist, as they appeared regularly in the more conservative states and a few of the more progressive. However, their refusal to cooperate with greater mankind concluded with most of them readopting their alligator grins to keep their trade routes open, and their families fed. Those who refused to integrate were lost after the earth went dark from the Second Pass.

This new type of lifestyle was even reaching a degree of real stability when some of the earth’s remaining active astrophysicists came up with some good news – the moon was leaving, and the majority of its broken disk of accretion would likely travel with it.

By the time the news had spread all over the U.S.A people had started to spend their nights looking at the sky, hoping for confirmation that this almighty threat would finally leave them be. Hope was replaced with doubt after three months and nothing happened. This grew into distrust until one day, July the 17th, 2026, where the world woke up to find the moon considerably smaller than it had been the day before. The astrophysicists were right, eventually.

There was, for a time, a period of celebration. Nine months later saw a considerable rise in birth rates. Importantly, this gave us someone new to believe in. The politician’s interests lay mostly in themselves, in staying in power, the military had skill and knowledge but was ultimately unsuited to leadership, but, finally, it was the scientists, divorced of the egos of authority, who gave people something to believe in. Lingering electromagnetic effects aside, humans were finally in a position to return to where they were before the passage of the Dark Star.

It was the work of the scientists that helped us start to regain the sense of control of our destinies which we so need. This was a second chance to build the world, to avoid the mistakes made by the overconfident and under-thinking, and we believed we finally had a group who would put the good of the many before the good of themselves - the intellectuals. At least, the intellectuals who never sought power for power’s sake.

Naturally, we saw an increase in our reliance and emphasis of the good of scientists and intellectualism in our new world. It was the universities that were first to establish their willingness to help. Unknown, to the majority at least, was that there had existed small groups of dedicated individuals who had taken up permanent shelter in these academies, working away on understanding the Dark Star, its effects, and how to counter the destruction it wrought. Now, with the rest of society on board, they sent advice out into the world on how they would deal with various obstacles to rebuilding. They never attempted to force their solutions on the public, and they never needed to. They never sought power, it was thrust upon them.

To help decide exactly what plans should be followed, and how they should be instigated, it became necessary to assign local leaders to organize a coordinated effort. Learning from their past mistakes, and taking hints from the universities, only those who had demonstrated an active interest in helping were considered for these positions. Those blowhards who were desperate to lead, despite a lack of interest in learning, were overwhelmingly disqualified. Those politicians of the old world, who stuck their heads up and attempted to assert themselves into their old positions were not treated kindly.

My Grandfather was 16 years old at the time. He told me of an old governor who had spent the decade after the First Pass locked in his mansion, living off the considerable supplies he had stockpiled. This man belonged to a group who called themselves ‘doomsday preppers’, those who had asserted the end was coming and had gathered as many supplies as they could to ensure their own survival. On overhearing the news of civilization’s slight recovery, this man unlocked his front gate and stepped out into the community. Here he informed the locals that he was, legally, still in control, and thus should automatically be allowed to assume the highest position of leadership. Unbeknownst to him, some in the community had lost family members to starvation. These were people who had attempted to communicate with the governor through his gate radio system and were turned away under threat of being shot on sight. The governor was found dead not long after, he had been beaten so badly that he was only identifiable through his suit.

There was no investigation into his death.

It was during this rebuilding that my Grandfather met my Grandmother. They had both shown a strong technical aptitude and had been assigned the duty of electronic maintenance, a job which was held in high regard. They worked at this for a year and a half before they started dating, a year after which they were married. This would have been considered an oddly early marriage, before the First Pass, but the growing concern over not living to see the next day had thrown the new average age of marriage back to a level that hadn’t been seen in a century.

Life was difficult but ultimately idyllic. The world was green and nature had done much to reclaim the land taken by cities. This created many buildings which were structurally unsound but were beautiful to behold. I still have an old box full of photographs that my Grandfather had taken while traveling the railroad. I wish I could have seen that world.

Mankind had entered a new age of hope, there was a brief moment where even the most diehard misanthropes had a difficult time deriding the efforts of those rebuilders. Who knows what sort of life we could have had if this kept up. Maybe we could have finally created some sort of real utopia. Maybe we could have finally shown the earth and its inhabitants the respect they deserved. Ultimately, the point was moot. On December the 21st 2027, my Grandfather first heard the news.

Astrophysicists had been working closely with the remains of NASA in an attempt to detect any further space-based threats, and they had found what they feared most. In nine years, given its current trajectory, and sometime around October 2036, the Dark Star was going to make another pass. While the planet itself had been lost in the prior years, with the loss of most satellites and the electricity to most high-powered telescopes, the Dark Star was coming back. The path it took was considered an impossibility in regular orbital astrophysics, but if the rogue planet had proven anything, it’s that it had little regard for our concepts of gravitation, physics, and cosmology.

While we didn’t understand why or how it was coming back, we did know it was coming, and it was going to be a much closer pass through our orbit than the first. The response from many was similar to their disbelief the first time the planet passed us by. Some of the heavily religious, many of whom had formerly considered the First Pass the end of days, suddenly threw their hats into the ring again. This was it, finally, they would say. Now was the real end of days, and it was time to ascend. Some countries which had maintained a semblance of pre-pass governmental structure, or those that remained under a heavy military rule, declared their initial hesitation at accepting the conclusions of these physicists. After all, these scientists had already declared that the path of the Dark Star would carry it out of our solar system as quickly as it had come. To arrive like it was supposed to, the planet would have had to arc around space in a way that was thought impossible, even given the anomalous behavior it had already displayed. Nevertheless, it had turned and was coming back and through the path of the earth.

The amount of panic and ensuing violence that had sprung from this disbelief was much more contained than that of the First Pass. People had already faced the effects of the Dark Star head-on, and many had come out with a greater sense of strength and personal control than they ever had in the old world. The question became how we would deal with this second threat. We knew that it was coming much closer than it had the first time. This time people would be able to see the planet as it passed us, or rather, would be able to see the outline against the stars, as the amount of light it absorbed made it almost impossible to detect by regular means. This also meant, we were assured, that the effects would be much more pronounced than they were during the First Pass when we only crossed through its wake.

Exactly what would these effects be? That was the question. If the wake alone had the power to crack the moon, then what could the direct proximity of the planet do to the earth? Earthquakes? Volcanic eruptions? Would the crust of the earth end up like the crust of the moon, thrown into space with mankind being flung into darkness?

It was some months before we got any sort of answer back from the colleges of the world, which had been hard at work to calculate the various possibilities and how they should be addressed. The answer we eventually received mobilized the world. Working around the clock, they had given us the concept of Safeholds.

These were to be bunkers that were created deep underground, where they could be sealed off from the surface and protected from electromagnetic interference with a newly developed form of the Faraday cage. This would surround the outer reinforced concrete walls and would prevent the lock-ins which had killed some of the previous bunker-dwellers. These bunkers would be self-sustaining and were developed to be lived in for extended periods, decades if need be.

Given the enormous numbers still living on the surface, it was untenable that placements were given for everyone. Instead, the idea was that through predictions made on the surface, various groups in zones under threat would be placed into the holds at different times, until the danger to their homes had passed and they were able to be swapped out for a new group. We were assured that the predictions of these scientists had reached a point where they could safely protect a great number. With no other real options, most of the world got to work, their faith in these men and woman leading them in their labor.

Many of the basic inventions required for systems such as the Safeholds had already been developed. We could dig holes easily, we could even adapt missile silos and other hidden fortresses into something more livable. Plantlife and algae could be grown and used to filter what small amount of carbon dioxide was not removed by the long-lasting and reparable air scrubbers, and nuclear power ensured the lights would never dim. Of course, building nuclear power generators was a complex and time-consuming process, and to this end, there were already efforts underway to aid areas where construction lagged.

The first step was the removal and adaption of engines from the nuclear-equipped vessels of Russia, China, and the United States of America. These were far less efficient than their land-based counterparts but would serve in a rush for countries that had no hope of connecting to larger power grids or generators of their own. The second means of establishing a near-permanent power supply came from the crater left by the moonstrike in Egypt.

This moon fragment had left behind large amounts of helium-3, an isotope of helium that had been noted for its potential in power generation. Designs for these highly efficient generators had been around for decades but weren’t put into production due to the difficulty in retrieving fuel. This difficulty was avoided when the moon itself gave us the answer, in the meteorite Pandora. Only the largest and most productive countries had the means to build these generators in the given time, but those that had could potentially generate electricity for generations.

As the locals had abandoned the area surrounding the Pandora crater, the mining itself had to be performed by workers who had been mostly been shipped in from India. Many in this time were wary to approach the impact craters left after the First Pass, as some left odd and unpredictable pockets of radiation that would persist for centuries. Once this became common knowledge, these craters would be considered no-mans-land, where anyone who did bother to ignore the warnings and venture into depths would be ostracized for the fear of radioactive contamination. Then, the risk was often negligible or non-existent, but for the under-informed public, this was usually convincing enough.

To counter the risk of radiation sickness in the Pandoran Crater, the area was thoroughly vetted by technicians who had run scans and determined that the radiation levels were benign enough to not require any special protective gear, provided exposure was carefully managed. There were, predictively, several deaths by the time all the helium-3 had been mined, but these rates were still significantly less than what would be expected in a traditional mining operation.

The workers who had toiled in the mining operation had been guaranteed places within the Safeholds, once they were complete, and were given access to more than their fair share of luxury-level foods in the meantime. This meant no shortage of volunteers.

By the time the last of the useful material had been removed, one and a half years later, the new reactors were already well on their way to completion. The scale of the entire operation, my Grandfather said, was unlike anything mankind had achieved before.

The Safeholds had thousands of workers per site, each person working with the singular goal of survival, each hoping they would be allowed a place inside when the time came. From this, there were also those who worked on connecting and strengthening the support cables to the closest reactors. Redundancies on redundancies, to account for every perceivable threat.

In the end, there were only 7 helium-3 reactors that would be produced. They were to be built deep underground, in places that were best situated to share their output with surrounding areas of high population density. Those bunkers which housed these reactors were generally regarded as the main Safeholds, with smaller straight nuclear variants being simply referred to as bunkers. The first to be completed was located on the border of New South Wales and Queensland, in Western Australia. The Australians had somewhat of a knack for both mining and building and were one of the first to also connect their reinforced power grid up to what remained of the eastern coast, supported as it was by several other standard nuclear reactors.

The second active reactor was situated in the Jiangxi province in eastern China. This was the largest reactor, capable of the highest output, and as such was also designated the most fuel. This reactor, nicknamed the First Fire, had been connected all the way north to Shanghai, where it crossed the East China Sea and into Japan’s Nagasaki. From here the power ran the length of Japan and retread the depths of the ocean and across the Korea Straight into Busan, South Korea. In the other direction, the reactor’s influence reached as far south as Singapore, while also crossing over into Taiwan and Malaysia.

The First Fire was the first reactor to be tested on such a large scale, anywhere, and testing proved remarkably successful, partially due to the rising global narrative that wasting electricity was no longer something that could be tolerated.

The third reactor online was located in Jaipur, northern India. This reactor also supplied its yield to the north and the west, as far as Saudi Arabia and Uzbekistan. Even the long-standing difficulties between India and Pakistan weren’t enough to quench the fires of progress, and the fear of mankind’s total destruction.

Reactor number four was built in the city of El Paso, which sat on the border of Mexico and the United States of America. This would feed electricity into the eastern United States of America, and would send its power as far south as Panama, in the Central Americas, or rather this was the plan. In actuality, what the Residents did not learn until months of habitation had passed, was that the long-range power transmission lines had been broken, and they were never brought into operation. While there was pressure to build this reactor further to the east, it was ultimately decided that building a reactor to cater to the largely abandoned and still devastated east coast would have been an inappropriate use of such limited resources. Helping in the decision was a recently exposed labyrinth of caverns beneath the borders of the city, which could easily be reinforced and converted into a Safehold.

Reactor five was the most heavily shielded, built in a deep underground base in Johannesburg, South Africa. The original use of this bunker was either covered up, or lost to time, but the sheer size of the facility made its conversion into a Safehold one of the most painless. This reactor was the smallest, and the one with the shortest reach, as it only spread its influence into the surrounding nations of Namibia, Botswana, Zimbabwe, Mozambique, Swaziland, and Lesotho. Madagascar was abandoned entirely, as its rough terrain and relative isolation made it unsuitable as a location of a Safehold, instead, the population was evacuated to the African mainland. Most of the immigrants chose to travel into South Africa, where they would have the best chance of protection.

Reactor six was built in the ruins of the central city of Munich, Germany. The city had been flattened by numerous atmospheric impacts and had suffered many losses to related fires. Despite this, it was selected as a build location because of its proximity to the other countries of Eastern Europe, and because despite the destruction of the city itself, the road and rail systems remained largely untouched.

The final reactor went online only six months before the Second Pass. Located just west of Sao Paulo, Brazil, this generator was the result of uncoordinated efforts due to the local leadership. While the reactor itself was eventually brought into working order it required constant updates and maintenance to prevent it from locking up through the machine’s various failsafe’s.

Normally, the creation of such enormous projects would require a much longer timeframe, decades even, rather than the mere 8 years it took in this case. As Grandfather said; never had mankind exhibited such motivation. What’s more surprising is how reliant these reactors have proved to be. I would have assumed a rushed job would have resulted in such a drop of quality as to ruin the result. Maybe god decided to give us a break, not that I believe in anyone who would condemn us to a fate such as ours.

That is not to say that during this time the only people who were engaged in such unprecedented cooperation were those concerned with mining and the creation of these reactors, the spirit of cooperation was much more pervasive. The production of food that could be stored safely for long periods was increased several hundred percent over the previous records set in the time approaching the Second Pass.

The adaption of strengthening of support systems such as water and waste extraction was also an issue on which much emphasis was placed. In the very likely case of earthquakes, these systems, along with transportation systems, received the same multiple redundancies and access points for repair and maintenance enjoyed by the power supply network. This was the domain of the majority of those without places to work in the food sector or on the Safeholds themselves.

On looking back over these last few pages I feel I may have given the wrong impression; that all were on board for the idea and construction of the Safeholds, if I weren’t rushed I would have added more on those who refused to take part, but these are complex groups, and time is scarce. Even in times of the greatest threat, there have always been those who refuse to face the problem, whether out of fear, ignorance, or a combination of the two, I couldn’t say. Take those who had, throughout history, sought shelter from conquerors in their places of worship, for example, confident in their divine protection. At least until they witnessed the barbarians break through the door and put their swords through the backs of the devout.

My Grandfather had told me how much this had disappointed him. There were already those who doubted the dangers of the First Pass, those who, despite the infinite faith of their safety and the perceived ignorance they placed on the scientists, ended up in the same world as everyone else. With a second prediction, Grandfather said, there should have been deference to these men and women of science, who had helped so much since the decline. This was not unique, he had told me, as in the years approaching the First Pass there had been many doomsday predictions which had failed, with many believers ‘doubling down’ as he said, and recommitting with even more devotion, to their beliefs. It was part of human nature, I was told, and despite what my Grandfather might have claimed, it was not limited to sheer religious fervor.

There remained pockets of survivors who had chosen to ignore the coming Pass, like Nero playing his fiddle as Rome burned around him. Unlike the story of Nero, however, this actually happened.

Part of it was dedication and pride, I suppose. Pride in what their family had built over generations, and dedication to continuing their efforts, to assume their own place in their family’s history. There are those whose families had lived their entire lives out of the public eye, those who distrusted the establishment, whoever it happened to be, who chose to live as isolated a life as they could. Some eventually saw the light, but many did not. They remained in their houses, on their hard-won property, right up until the Second Pass. They suffered the same fate as most others on the surface.

Many who died simply did not conceive of the real problem. The isolated tribes of Brazil and Papua New Guinea, for example, had no way of knowing the reality of the threat. Those few who were contacted were not convinced, which is understandable given the history and willingness of colonists to lie and cheat to further their agendas. Of the handful of those who were contacted and chose to believe in the word of the Outsiders, none of them made it into the Safeholds. This was claimed to not be an issue of xenophobia or racism, but rather one of pragmatism, given their total lack of skills which could be transferred, in a useful matter, to the world which would be left after the Second Pass.

The largest cluster of those who were left to face the Second Pass were those poor people who had remained in North Korea. While large parts of the country were destroyed by a direct hit in the days of the Moonfall, those in power, who had hidden deep beneath the earth had remained in charge. We know that there was infighting, what little information we have on this part of the world indicates that leadership was replaced and reshuffled regularly, but proper preparation and civil war never rose to the surface. This was likely due to the utter indifference their military had for the worth of human life, and the apparent joy they had in executing those who chose to point out the danger and hypocrisy of their leadership. The only civilians we know of who survived from this part of the world were those who managed to successfully flee into South Korea, China, and Japan.

As the end date approached, our progress slowly turned from construction to stockpiling and waiting. Waiting to see who would be given entry, and waiting to see who would spend the first portion of the Second Pass outside of the Safeholds. It was the trust which been generated over the past decade, of those who had now assumed power, that had led us down this path. Many were unhappy that they weren’t given preferential treatment, but outright conflict was rare, and easily quashed by the overwhelming number of increasingly terrified and dogmatic Safehold supporters. Two months before the Second Pass, the rosters had been set, the emergency plans had been placed, and everyone who worked with the Safeholds knew what they had to do.

My family was one of the lucky ones, they were given a place in the Safehold which was attached to the reactor in El Paso. My great-grandparents were selected for the efficiency and knowledge they had displayed in the fields of agriculture and botany.

Growing food underground, without natural light, was not a new process. Drug growers and communities at high latitudes had been practicing this for years, albeit not on anywhere near the scale which was proposed for the Safeholds. Being so instrumental in the farming efforts in Pennsylvania and New York had generated considerable goodwill for my great-grandparents, enough to guarantee not only their first placement but also an extended welcome to their family. This was how my family ended up in the same complex, which would eventually become known by the Residents as the Oven.