One of the chosen ones

A lightly caramelized nutty smell flows out of the break room – the only other room with a door – and my body already craves the caffeinated drink just like it does every day. The only thing that manages to get me through. Doubts, fear, hurt continue to fill my mind. Of all the things I imagined my future would entail, there was no way I could have fathom this. Is it better to pretend that all is well instead of feeding into my emotions? Maybe. I really don’t know.

Warmth creeps through my feet against the wooden floors. It disperses itself throughout my body. Cold linoleum awaits me on the other side of this door. When will this person be done? The only place where I can get a few minutes to myself. Hundreds of bunk beds line every wall. Almost every square inch of this open space is occupied.

My name is Jack Twaine and I am – or should say was – an engineer at NASA. One day I was working on a team to help design and build the technology needed to create a space probe, and now I am here – one of the ‘chosen ones’ surviving in a windowless box hundreds of feet below several layers of ice and temperatures of at least -90 F. The Long Thaw they call it. “You should be happy to be in here, in a place that’s well insulated with food and oxygen,” said my supervisor. I still do not know how I feel about the man.

It began months after we celebrated the findings of Kuni 9 at the American Geophysical Union Meeting in Denver, Colorado. I remember John Patterson, our mission’s project scientist stating,

“Kuni 9 is one of our most accurate sensors. It has supplied us with information about the changes that occur on the earth’s land surface and has helped us locate the coldest area.”

We all stared at the maps detailing the global surface temperatures. These maps combined data from Kuni 9 and other joint projects. The room was filled with men and women from around the world. Dressed in dark colored suits, collared shirts, black shoes or heels, it was as if they had asked us all to wear a specific uniform. The coldest place on earth was nestled between Dome Argus and Dome Fuji, the East Antarctic Plateau, where the record for the lowest temperature was -136 F.

I ate and drank at lavish parties with my wife Colleen at my side. After the many hours of science talk, that’s just what I needed before we returned to our home in San Francisco. Not only were we celebrating this huge achievement but also NASA’s 75th birthday.

A couple of months later, Colleen and I were getting ready to go to bed when the weather alert came up on my cell phone.

Colder air tomorrow, high of 50 degrees.

I paused and peered intently.

“Honey, make sure you wear a light sweater or jacket tomorrow. It’s gonna be a high of 50 degrees.”

“Since when does it get so cold in the summer?” she asked with a quizzical look on her face.

“Uh...I’m not really sure. Maybe I can find out some more info at work.” A flood of questions made its way into my mind.

As I sit on the corner of my bed, a teardrop strikes the back of the photo I’m holding, and slides down the corner, disappearing onto the floor. I wipe the corner dry. It missed the words and, turning the photograph over, I check to see that the image is okay. I would hate to distort the only remaining picture I have of us. I miss her very much and read her beautiful words every single day.

Every day you make me happy

Every day you put a smile on my face

I will love you forever until death do us part

Yours eternally,

Colleen

She should be here with me.

“What about my wife? I had asked.

“What about her?” said my supervisor harshly.

“I want her here with me.”

“That’s not possible and you know why.”

“Well, I’m not going without her then,” I replied while I headed towards the door.

“You’re not leaving this compound and I suggest you do as I say.”

My friend Mark had pulled me away. I clenched my fists. The blood running through my veins felt hot like lava and my face was flushed with redness. We had two days before temperatures plummeted to -90 F and lower. More than enough time for me to get Colleen and bring her back. They refused to let me go.

I remember the initial reports. News stations described it as a once in a lifetime arctic air current with temperatures below average for the summer. It was supposed to last a few weeks. NASA explained it as a geothermal phenomenon that would soon be corrected. People were asked to stay warm, stay indoors where possible and enjoy the cooler weather.

One news reporter commented.

“It’s a nice to have some cooler air during the summer for once.”

Colleen comes to mind again.

“I’m tired of being stuck indoors all the time,” she said. “I know it’s cold outside but let’s go for a quick stroll – maybe just a few blocks to get some fresh air inside my lungs.” Her head tilted to the side as she stood near the kitchen island holding a white porcelain mug – a wedding gift filled with hot cocoa.

“Sure honey. Why not? Just a short walk though, because you know I am not a fan of these cold temperatures.” It was 20 F that evening.

Children’s laughter pierced the air as their skates glided across the frozen pond – once an area where Colleen and I spent most of our early evenings catching a glimpse of the sunset as it shimmered across the surface of the water. The environment around us was already changing.

“Are you sniffling?” I asked, holding onto her gloved hand.

“Yeah. It’s really cold outside. My lungs don’t need any more of this cold air.”

“I tried to kiss her on the cheek. She pushed me away and whispered, “How about we try this when we get inside,” while placing her finger on my icy lips.

I am so sorry Colleen.

It was fun at the beginning. Soon things drastically changed. Temperatures continued to decline even when they were expected to normalize. It wasn’t just happening here in the Unites States but all over the world.

Once the temperatures fell to -30 F, being outside for even a few seconds was unbearable for me. Despite all of the layers, the wind always found a way to sting with the coldness penetrating deep within my bones. It would howl and whip through my clothing, and what was left of the surrounding trees, like a cranky old man leaving my ear lobes burning and my cheeks raw. The sky was always clear and along with the wind, the ground, especially the roads became icy. Strangely, it never snowed.

“What is the government doing to help keep the citizens of the US warm?”, “What is NASA and the government hiding?”, “Will there be a summer?”, “The citizens are demanding answers”, the media headlines asked, over and over. Protests erupted in some areas before it got too cold to be outside. Some held signs that read “They will watch us freeze to death while they lie in their warm beds” and “Stop the lies. Tell us when it will end.” They were angry and losing faith in both their local and national governments.

It was no different at work when it came to finding answers.

We all witnessed the images of numerous wildlife – birds, deer, bears, all encased in ice where they lay dead on the ground. Their habitats destroyed but for the few trees that – devoid of leaves, of color and of life – remained standing above ground, braving violent winds.

Soon images from satellite videos flooded the TV screen of human popsicles lining the sides of the roads in the North East. Streets crowded with thousands of cars leaving towards Florida, where the temperatures were still in the thirties.

As I remember these things, the voice of my supervisor interrupts my train of thought.

“Alright everyone, try to get some sleep. Lights will be out in 10 mins.” The nerve of him to still exist or even be allowed to breathe. I return to my thoughts. All Lies. Everything they said was a Goddam lie. But I don’t have proof.

How are they able to sleep when the images of frozen bodies in cars lined one after another on the interstate – images of men, woman, and children – are imprinted on my mind. We know now that Florida wouldn’t have kept them safe. The cold temperatures hit every single state. Even the beaches froze.

I jump off my bunk bed and tiptoe slowly between rows of beds. I need a way to let all the rumblings out of my head.

Voices are coming from the break room. Inside, a group of men and women who were much more affiliated with NASA and the likes than I was, including my supervisor, are seated around a wooden table.

“They began building these bunkers a long time ago from the reports,” says one of the women.

“Yes, I read that too. Even during the union meeting when the announcement was made about Kuni 9’s discoveries, they already had data that showed that this was going to happen. They chose to keep it a secret.”

“They chose to do what?” I barge in. Their mouths are wide open. “You guys are telling me that they knew about it. NASA and the government knew about it.” My voice echoes while everyone is now shushing me. This confirms it for me. I knew they were all liars. “We had the time and technology to develop these bunkers, but we could not help millions of Americans and instead, we let them die!” The thumping in my chest gets louder and sweat beads form on my forehead. There is a moistness that takes over the surface of my skin. “How could any of you let this happen?”

“We didn’t let this happen Jack. The people in charge of protecting the entire nation did. You can’t blame us for that,” said my supervisor.

“I DO BLAME YOU FOR IT!" I yell back. “You knew about it apparently and you said and did nothing!”

“What the hell do you think we were going to do?” The whole room is quiet and I can hear the commotion in the main room as others are waking up.

My arm moves swiftly. I pin him up against the wall. My muscles tense, and the veins bulge on the surface. I finally let go and turn my back on him. He isn’t going to put up a fight. “You’re nothing but the scum of the earth and a mass murderer just like everyone else who knew and allowed this to happen.”

“You’re not the only person who lost someone they loved Jack. There really wasn’t much we could do.”

I do not have a response. I continue to walk away from him through the growing crowd of onlookers and whispers.

“Everyone get back to bed,” he says in the background.

My body sinks into my twin mattress. I turn onto my stomach, the pillow pressed against my face captures the tears that escape from my eyes. Who made them God and the declarer of life? Colleen deserved to live. So many women, children and men deserved to live. Now so many were above ground, and like the animals, they died afraid, cold – some alone and on the street as they tried to save themselves and their families. They didn’t even stand a chance. Human beings are their worst enemies.

The next morning, I sit at the edge of my bed holding a cup of coffee.

“Jack, can we talk for a few minutes?”

I ignore him.

“I have been communicating with the other leaders in the different bunkers and we are trying to come up with a solution?”

“A solution... Now?” I ask without making eye contact.

“I can’t make any promises but I’m sure that we are all smart enough to come up with a way to make them pay.”

“Hmm,” I reply. I don’t trust him.

Swift and heavy footsteps move away from me.

I don’t even know if I trust any of them.