Digital Winter (28 page)

“The goal being?”

“Communication, sir. It will be easier to defuse the situation face-to-face, and we can exchange information about rebooting the digital world.”

“I think he's onto something, Admiral,” Holt said.

“Maybe. We'll talk about it. Thank you, General Matisse.”

Jeremy slipped from the room and hoped he was right.

The letter was handwritten. The words bore no indication of haste. It was a letter written after much thought and soul searching. Each line was equidistant from the one above it. The margins narrow. It was a letter written by a man of detail, focus, intelligence, and love. Roni recognized the script as her husband's. The cursive was tight and lacked flair. It was the handwriting of a punctilious man. Jeremy had the neatest handwriting Roni had ever seen. She had adopted the rushed script that had become the joke and hallmark of physicians in the US. Every loop, descender, and ascender reminded her of the careful, cautious, dedicated man she married. So different they were, so connected nonetheless.

An ache grew in her, spreading from the hot center of her gut to the tips of her fingers and toes. She missed him more than she thought humanly possible. They had been separated for longer periods, but the world had been normal then, not like it was now.

It took Roni several moments to focus beyond the appearance of the words to their meaning. She read the letter for the fourth time since receiving it.

My Dear Roni,

I gave orders that this letter be given to you in the event that you chose to stay at the hospital. I figured you'd be there and not at home. I'm no good at predicting the future, but I know the love of my life. I suppose dynamite couldn't budge you. This disappoints me, but it is a selfish disappointment. I am never happy when we're separated, but this is by far the worst. I can't even pick up a phone and hear your voice. I imagine your work has been demanding beyond words. I hope you are finding time to rest and eat. The hospital and your patients are blessed to have you
.

I am safe and busy helping get things up and running again. Things are just as Rex said they would be
.

Rex
. Their code word. Not long after they married and Jeremy began earning higher ranks and more responsibility in digital warfare defense, he said there might be times when he would be called in to work on things he couldn't talk about or go to a place he couldn't discuss. “Should that happen, I'll phone or send word and use the word
Rex
in conversation. It means that I might be gone for a few days and not to worry.”

“Why would I worry?” she deadpanned.

“You wound me.” He laughed. Now, as she continued reading, she wished she hadn't joked about it.

I worry about you and pray for you every time you come to mind, and you come to mind every few minutes. Please know this: I love you now and forever. As I consider everything our marriage has been, my only sorrow has been that I have not been able to adequately explain my love for Jesus and my need of Him. He has been the steel in my spine since high school. My faith has made me what I am and freed me to love you even more. You've been patient with me, never mocking, but also never accepting
.

Roni, I do not wish to bring more pressure into your life or start a theological discussion. I just ask
[Here the even spacing of the words faltered]
you to consider all we've discussed over the years of our marriage. When I look at what has happened to the world, I'm reminded of many things in the Bible—things too long to discuss in this letter, but you've heard me speak of them before
.

Roni, you are the beat of my heart. I love you more today than when we married, something I thought was impossible. I want the best for you: safety and comfort. Over the years we've had discussions and playful banter, but I need you to consider the matter seriously
.

Remember, kid, distance may put miles between our bodies, but not our hearts
.

All my love,
Jeremy

An emotional stew boiled in her. She felt the warmth of his love as if he were standing in the room; she also felt the cold chill of his concern. Something had Jeremy worried, something beyond the catastrophic events surrounding them. What was he seeing that she couldn't?

A soft knock on her door pulled Roni's attention from the letter. She quickly folded it again. “Come in.”

The door opened slowly, and Cody's face appeared between the jamb and door.

“Hey, you. Where have you been?”

He left the door open as he walked in. “I've been playing in the children's wing.”

“Did you have fun?”

He shrugged. The kid was big on shrugging. “I guess. People up there are unhappy.”

“The patients?”

“Them too. I meant the doctors and nurses. They look scared.”

Roni pushed back from the desk and patted the seat Pickett had been sitting on a few minutes before. Cody climbed in, his feet dangling a foot above the floor. “It's a scary time, Cody, and the doctors and nurses are tired. They've been working for a long time. Most haven't seen their families for days.”

“How come?”

“They live too far away, and the cars don't work anymore.”

“How come?”

“Well, I don't know for sure. Something has happened that makes anything with a computer chip or electronics quit working.”

“Like the lights?”

“Yes, like the lights.”

He studied her for a moment. “You're sad too, aren't you?”

“I'm fine.”

“You've been crying. I can tell. Your eyes are all puffy and stuff, just like my mommy's when she would cry. You know…after my daddy…”

“Yes, I know.” She smiled. “Okay, you got me. I've been crying, but I'm okay now.” She stood. “Let's go see if there's any food in the cafeteria. If not, we'll steal a soda.”

“Okay. I like the cheese and crackers.”

“Okay, we'll steal some of those too.”

As they walked from the office and down the corridor toward the cafeteria, the lights came on.

“God bless the US Army,” Roni said. For some reason, the phrase “God bless” warmed her.

Twenty minutes later, Roni was back in the OR, working on the first of six patients assigned to her. This was why she stayed, she reminded herself. These patients needed her.

A small voice in the back of her head said,
And you need Jeremy
.

Jeremy took a bite of a tuna sandwich as he sat alone at a table in the cafeteria. The president entered, and everyone in the space stood. Barlow put them at ease. He wasn't alone. With him were his wife and two adult children and grandchildren. The latter had arrived only an hour before. The kids seemed fascinated with the underground facility, and Barlow seemed to enjoy giving the tour. The president, however, looked wan and thinner. He waved off any inquirers about his health. “I'm fine. Just feeling the weight of it all.”

Jeremy wasn't so certain.

The sight of the president's family made Jeremy think of Roni, something he did frequently.

He worried about her constantly.

M
ilitary technicians had taken two weeks to get communication working through undersea cables. The president had issued a state of emergency, and the military used it to commandeer communications facilities and anything else they needed. Jeremy had led one of the teams working on the transatlantic cable. He lacked the expertise needed to cobble together the necessary parts to make what he thought of as transmitters, devices that could send signals through fiber optics. He did, however, have the knowledge to rebuild the computers necessary to make the system work. It was no walk in the park, and Jeremy had never had to be so creative. Just finding motherboards that didn't look as if they had spent a couple of hours in a microwave proved daunting.

He received help from FEMA, which made sheltered equipment available. General Holt oversaw the rebuilding of a military network. Much of it had been hardened—yet one more reason to be thankful for paranoia—but powering the system proved more difficult. The military had not been paranoid enough. Still, things began to fall together.

By the middle of the third week, EMN—a new acronym Holt coined for the Emergency Military Network—was functioning with some success. The network was an adjunct to Slipper, which was still being rebuilt. The JCS and the president had communications with several key military installations, including NORAD. Their equipment was already underground, as were those in other locations dedicated to continuity of government. Every new connection was a reason for celebration.

The number of airworthy craft was limited, but there were enough to overfly many urban areas. Teams of military personnel were sent to debrief state governors and mayors of major cities. They returned with troubling reports and bleak forecasts.

Jeremy sat at a computer, checking and double-checking the safety of the EMN. Terminals could be connected only to previously approved servers. No computer or server touched the Internet. Moriarty dwelled there, waiting for the next opening.

“We ready?” Holt stepped into Jeremy's office.

“Yes, sir. Any minute now. I'm transferring connections to the sit room.”

“Good. The president wants you there in case something goes wrong with the connection.”

“Yes, sir. Things have been stable for several hours. I've been chatting with my Russian counterpart.”

“How are they doing over there?” Holt moved to the terminal. An image of an empty room was on the computer monitor.

“Not good, General. Not good at all.”

“Anything the president should know before the video conference?”

“Many things, sir. Way too many things.”

Holt's lips formed a line. “Let's go. I want us to be in the room when POTUS gets there.”

“Yes, sir.”

The sit room seemed too large for the few people in it. Barlow entered with Vice President Grundy. No one else.