♥ PosetteForever ♥

"Off you go, and stay out of trouble ?" <br /> <br /> "Yes, Mum." <br /> <br /> "Yes, Ma." <br /> <br /> "Yes, Aunty Joan." <br /> <br /> "Huh..." <br /> <br /> "Josie ?" <br /> <br /> "Yes, Mrs. Jones." <br /> <br /> 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. <br /> <br /> 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. <br /> <br /> 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. <br /> <br /> Then everything changed. <br /> <br /> 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. <br /> <br /> "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. <br /> <br /> 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 ?" <br /> <br /> "GPS is off. Would you check your phones ?" <br /> <br /> The three exchanged puzzled looks, then decided to humor me. They hauled out their smartphones while I woke my tiny, 'hand-me-down' clamshell. <br /> <br /> "No signal ?" <br /> <br /> "No bars ?" <br /> <br /> "No network ?" <br /> <br /> "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." <br /> <br /> Sue took a long, deep breath, asked, "What do you reckon ?" <br /> <br /> "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." <br /> <br /> "Uh..." Sue thought it through. "Sorry, guys. Jack's right. Something bad's gone down. We go back." <br /> <br /> Josie grumbled loudest and longest but, with her iPhone unaccountably off-line, she couldn't check the news, never mind Twitter. <br /> <br /> "We should head for the road," I offered. "A mile or so to the left, there's that little tea-shop--" <br /> <br /> "Drinks, loos, news." Sue nodded. "Okay, Jack, set a course." <br /> <br /> I fetched out map and compass, checked the GPS reference I'd stored was plausible, checked the sun-angle. "That-away." <br /> <br /> 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 ?" <br /> <br /> "Yes, Mister," I replied. "Garmin's no bars and three networks are off." <br /> <br /> "Eff !" He shook his head. "Well, that blows our geo-cacheing run..." <br /> <br /> "Have you map and compass ?" I asked, seeing neither. <br /> <br /> "Huh ? For a quaint 'Country Park' ?" <br /> <br /> "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' ?" <br /> <br /> "You cannot be serious !" <br /> <br /> "Jack's called it right," Sue warned. "We're heading for the road..." <br /> <br /> "Three miles that way." I waved my compass. "Then left about a mile to a tea-shop." <br /> <br /> "Wash-room, food, drink, shelter, perhaps news ?" Sue offered. <br /> <br /> "Huh ?" <br /> <br /> "No GPS ? No cell-phones ? Something bad's gone down..." <br /> <br /> "Ah..." <br /> <br /> "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." <br /> <br /> "Thanks, kid." <br /> <br /> "You're welcome. Go careful." As we pedalled out of sight, my glance back found them turning to follow us. <br /> <br /> About five minutes later, Josie sat up in her saddle, exclaimed, "Yuck ! What's that smell ?" <br /> <br /> "Uh, which one ?" Sue asked, sniffing warily. <br /> <br /> "Hospital ? Dentist ?" <br /> <br /> Before Sue could reply, we reached a fork in the path. Oddly, both ways seemed foggy. Sue hesitated, asked, "Which way, Jack ?" <br /> <br /> "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 !" <br /> <br /> "No way !" <br /> <br /> "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. <br /> <br /> "Weird..." Jackie allowed as it started around for the second time. "What could do that ?" <br /> <br /> "Uh..." I racked my brains. "Geo-magnetic sub-storm, perhaps ? A really big one ?" <br /> <br /> "Aurora stuff ?" Sue asked. <br /> <br /> "Uh-huh... But I'd expect the compass to swing left and right, not go round and round..." <br /> <br /> "And round," Jackie warned. "It's getting faster..." <br /> <br /> "Perhaps there's still iron ore under here ?" I waved. "That might--" <br /> <br /> "Hey !" Josie grumbled. "Now my teeth hurt !" <br /> <br /> "And mine !" Sue put a hand to her jaw. <br /> <br /> "What's that humming ?" Jackie puzzled. <br /> <br /> "Uh ?" I blinked. "Quick ! Turn your phones off !" <br /> <br /> "Huh ?" <br /> <br /> "Turn your phones off !" <br /> <br /> "What ?" <br /> <br /> "Turn your phones off and step away from the bikes !" <br /> <br /> "Jack ?" <br /> <br /> "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 !" <br /> <br /> "Uh !" Josie moaned, dropping to her knees beside her bike. "My teeth HURT !" <br /> <br /> "Aaah !" Sue howled as Jackie clutched her head in silent agony. <br /> <br /> Now I could hear it. The hum rose to a whine, to a shriek--