Nik [ Sunday, 04 December 2016, 12:57 AM ]
Post subject: Mutons...
"Off you go, and stay out of trouble ?"
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"Yes, Mum."
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"Yes, Ma."
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"Yes, Aunty Joan."
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"Huh..."
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"Josie ?"
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"Yes, Mrs. Jones."
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A nice, late-Spring afternoon mountain-biking quiet 'New Forest' trails was a really cool way to chill after a long, hard week at college. Sue, my busty, bossy, blonde half-sister led, of course, of course. The oldest of us by three years, she was going to Uni in the Autumn. Medieval History with a 'side' of Archaeology, no less ! We reckoned she'd do a conversion course to CSI when the fun wore off.
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Her slight cousin Jackie was, like me, small, dark-haired, almost Pictish. We were often mistaken for sibs, could pass as twins, would cheerfully 'double up' at Halloween. Best friends since pre-school, we were allied against the world. Yes, I fancied her, and I knew she thought I was 'cute'. Sadly, Jackie had a long-standing crush on Josie, who was a sassy red-head with the 'gift of the gab' and an unconcealed loathing for males. Gossip held she'd been abused by a ghastly 'uncle', but we didn't dare ask. Fortunately, Josie tolerated me. Solidly 'Science Stream', I did 'Gymnastic Dance' with Jackie and held a Judo Blue. Despite Josie's oft-cruel jibes, I was unfailingly polite. Better, I treated her as a 'Person' rather than a 'Pretty Dolly'. To her mind, if I wasn't a testosterone fuelled lout with groping hands, I must be 'Gay'. She was so wrong, but it let us get along.
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So, there we were, a young adult and three mid-teens, cheerfully pedalling those pretty paths. Though a trope, of the four of us, only I could navigate reliably. Even misandrist Josie had to admit my quiet competence with map, compass and GPS.
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Then everything changed.
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First, my Garmin froze. A basic model, it was tough as an old boot, had no problem holding a multi-satellite 'lock' through thick foliage. To my surprise, all the 'bars' dropped away.
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"Huh ?" I braked to a halt, peered at the compact display. No bars ? None ? Hastily, I pressed the Garmin's function button to tag our current position. Cell phone coverage here was 'sparse' so, if you needed help, a map reference could save a lot of time.
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The others were ten seconds ahead before they realised I'd stopped. They slowed, pulled off the path, looked back. Sue called, "Jack ? What's wrong ?"
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"GPS is off. Would you check your phones ?"
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The three exchanged puzzled looks, then decided to humor me. They hauled out their smartphones while I woke my tiny, 'hand-me-down' clamshell.
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"No signal ?"
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"No bars ?"
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"No network ?"
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"Me, neither." I hesitated, said, "This old thing should have found a neighbouring cell, so that's three different networks and several masts shot. I-- I think we should go back."
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Sue took a long, deep breath, asked, "What do you reckon ?"
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"I don't know." I shrugged. "Nothing fits. Damage to a cell mast or masts wouldn't hurt the Garmin. A big solar flare might kill the GPS, but our phones should be okay. An 'EMP' would fry my Garmin and your 'live' phones."
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"Uh..." Sue thought it through. "Sorry, guys. Jack's right. Something bad's gone down. We go back."
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Josie grumbled loudest and longest but, with her iPhone unaccountably off-line, she couldn't check the news, never mind Twitter.
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"We should head for the road," I offered. "A mile or so to the left, there's that little tea-shop--"
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"Drinks, loos, news." Sue nodded. "Okay, Jack, set a course."
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I fetched out map and compass, checked the GPS reference I'd stored was plausible, checked the sun-angle. "That-away."
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Half-way to the road, we met a couple of puzzled joggers at a trail junction. They waved us to a halt. West-Coast US by his accent, the man called, "Hey, kids ! Are your GPS and phones down ?"
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"Yes, Mister," I replied. "Garmin's no bars and three networks are off."
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"Eff !" He shook his head. "Well, that blows our geo-cacheing run..."
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"Have you map and compass ?" I asked, seeing neither.
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"Huh ? For a quaint 'Country Park' ?"
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"This is the 'New Forest'," I stated. " 'Re-Wilded' a thousand years ago. Now, there's lots of shallow mining pits and foundations to turn ankles, break legs. The Wild Boar are a 'Force of Nature'. Sows with piglets may attack on sight. Even with 'bivvy' gear, it can be unsafe after dark. And isn't tonight a 'New Moon' ?"
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"You cannot be serious !"
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"Jack's called it right," Sue warned. "We're heading for the road..."
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"Three miles that way." I waved my compass. "Then left about a mile to a tea-shop."
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"Wash-room, food, drink, shelter, perhaps news ?" Sue offered.
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"Huh ?"
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"No GPS ? No cell-phones ? Something bad's gone down..."
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"Ah..."
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"See the Sun ?" I pointed to the South-West. "Even with 'four minutes per degree', you can use that as your compass for the next hour or so. Just hold that angle, veer slightly left if in doubt."
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"Thanks, kid."
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"You're welcome. Go careful." As we pedalled out of sight, my glance back found them turning to follow us.
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About five minutes later, Josie sat up in her saddle, exclaimed, "Yuck ! What's that smell ?"
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"Uh, which one ?" Sue asked, sniffing warily.
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"Hospital ? Dentist ?"
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Before Sue could reply, we reached a fork in the path. Oddly, both ways seemed foggy. Sue hesitated, asked, "Which way, Jack ?"
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"Huh ?" My oil-damped compass was swinging through fifteen or twenty degrees, gave no clue. I glanced over my shoulder, found the rising mist or fog was rapidly obscuring the Sun. "Left, but-- Huh ? Now my compass is spinning !"
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"No way !"
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"Look !" I held it steady and level, as far from my bike's frame as I could. Despite the oil fill, the needle was surely turning clockwise faster than a second hand's sweep. As we watched, it turned a full circle.
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"Weird..." Jackie allowed as it started around for the second time. "What could do that ?"
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"Uh..." I racked my brains. "Geo-magnetic sub-storm, perhaps ? A really big one ?"
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"Aurora stuff ?" Sue asked.
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"Uh-huh... But I'd expect the compass to swing left and right, not go round and round..."
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"And round," Jackie warned. "It's getting faster..."
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"Perhaps there's still iron ore under here ?" I waved. "That might--"
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"Hey !" Josie grumbled. "Now my teeth hurt !"
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"And mine !" Sue put a hand to her jaw.
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"What's that humming ?" Jackie puzzled.
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"Uh ?" I blinked. "Quick ! Turn your phones off !"
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"Huh ?"
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"Turn your phones off !"
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"What ?"
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"Turn your phones off and step away from the bikes !"
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"Jack ?"
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"It may be a 'Carrington Event' !" I scrambled from my bike, shut off the Garmin. "1859 ! Biggest solar storm in centuries ! Smaller one in, um, 1989 knocked out power to Quebec !"
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"Uh !" Josie moaned, dropping to her knees beside her bike. "My teeth HURT !"
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"Aaah !" Sue howled as Jackie clutched her head in silent agony.
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Now I could hear it. The hum rose to a whine, to a shriek--