Planet Earth 2072

Story One from Planet Earth 2972

A blinking light popped up in the top right corner of Alicia’s sightline. She looked at the CUBE wristband on her left arm. It’s a call from headquarters. It’s Peter, her tech engineer. She tapped the side of her glasses and waited as a small video popped up to the right of her vision. A scrawny, pale nineteen-year-old with a fresh face of acne stared off camera.

“Hey, boss, did you see my message from earlier? I just sent it like a second ago. It’s urgent. Also, can you get some Nutella donuts on your way in? Get, like, six. Get like a dozen, please. OK. I’ll see you soon.”

That kid. He operates on nothing but sugar. His brain must consume ten times more than the average person. Maybe having a 175 IQ requires a lot of sugar to keep functioning. Alicia tapped the CUBE wristband.

Sort messages. Find recent message from Peter Boman.

An AI-Latin voice spoke softly into her ear. Message from Peter Boman sent August 11th, 2072 at oh-seven-hundred hours and twenty-two minutes. Shall I play it?

Yes.

Hey, boss, I’m sending you a file. It’s encrypted. Actually, it can only be opened once, so, you know, be careful. It’s about the hurricane. I did some calculations last night. I stayed up most of the night. There’s something you gotta see. Don’t trust the news. Well, you’ll see once you open the file. It’s bad. Hey, can you get some Nutella donuts on the way in?

Alicia couldn’t help but crack a grin. Even in the AI-Latin voice, she can see Peter’s face, the way he always stared to his upper right corner as he spoke to you. She tapped the CUBE wristband again.

Open file.

Alicia spent the next few minutes looking at a file that was only partially comprehensible. High IQs are not always the best at communicating. She went over it a couple of times. When she got to the end, all that was remaining was a pixelated image of Hurricane Caru. Alicia stared at it as the rain pelted the glass roof of the ferry port. A smoothly shaped cyclone doused in red with a circular dark eye stared back. Peter’s final message read – this storm is going to be massive.

A voice crackled over the loudspeaker: Ferry Number Two to New South Beach is delayed fifteen minutes.

A couple dozen groans were barely audible over the sound of the rain.

CUBE, play local public station news.

The insignia for PPR came up, this time in Alicia’s left sightline.

Good morning, this is PPR, the People’s Public Radio. I’m Patricia Nygun. During the second day of the United Nations gathering in New York, a call for help in the refugee crisis in the Philippines. In the past six months more than a quarter million people have been forced out of their homes due to damage from Typhoon Bom. The Vietnamese consulate pushed back saying his country’s resources are stretched. The Unified Korea diplomat chimed in saying they are working to take in tens of thousands but the process has been hindered.

CUBE, fast forward to next story.

In Italy, congressional leaders voted unanimously to allow the Patriarchal Basilica of Aquileia to collapse. Last month, the group Scientificos Internationales showed that the stability of the building has been compromised. The expect the structure will collapse within months or a couple of years. Different groups from around the world have pleaded to save it. The Italian Department of Interior released data showing the cost to try and save it was prohibitive.

CUBE, fast forward to next story.

Good morning, I’m Luis Hernandez and this is WPPR South Florida. A few Florida leaders, including Governor Wayne Tardif are gathered at the state’s division of emergency management in Old Miami. They are discussing potential threats from Tropical Storm Caru. At the current moment the storm is moving toward the Northern Bahamas with sustained winds at seventy-miles per hour. The current cone of possibility gives it a ten percent chance of rolling over South Florida. Officials at the National Hurricane Center say the storm should turn into a hurricane within the next forty-eight hours, then more than likely turn north before coming ashore the mainland. Stay tuned to WPPR to keep up with the latest on the storm.

CUBE, show me the last NOAA radar on Caru.

An image of the storm popped up directly in front of Alicia in her eye piece. The system was poorly-formed, disorganized. Still, a tropical storm was nothing to sneeze at. She stared at it for a moment.

Could this storm become something more?

Alicia trusted the system. She lived by it; defended it. She also cared for Peter, like a little brother. Alicia knew he wouldn’t use the phrase “it’s gonna be bad” unless he meant it. That was another aspect of his genius, he couldn’t be sarcastic to save his life.

The ferry bumped up against the platform ledge and splashed a small wave of water over the side. The people standing over the orange line felt the warm water on their boots. The ferry shuttle wasn’t as packed as normal.

Perhaps the bad weather.

The ride was a little bumpier as the waters got choppy. Alicia noticed that most of the traffic along the skywalks seemed busy, as did the elevated roadways. But, not the waterways. The trip took a little longer than normal.

The ferry banged hard against the rubber platform. The voice over the speakers boomed across the cabin: We have arrived at South Beach One. Please remain seated until we have docked and the green light comes on. Exist through the front doors. Thank you, for riding New Miami Ocean Glider.

The sliding doors opened and the crowd quickly shuffled two by two through the tunnel to the gate on the other side of the wall. On the other side a glistening city towered over the shuttle entrance. Even in the rain, the skyscrapers had a glare like finely cut onyx and rose quartz spears pointed to the sky. Cars rolled by on the bottom tier travelway. Alicia crossed the street to the lifts that took her to the third tier travelway, the pedestrian paths.

At least these have a cover over them, which didn’t help on this day since the rain seemed to be coming in sideways.

After a stop at Mark’s shop, Alicia arrived at the EOPC building, the Emergency Planning Center, a three-story beige block on a sandy carpet of pastel and neon confetti. She walked in through a security door not seen from outside.

“Here’s your deadly dose of sugar and caffeine,” placing the box of donuts and his latte on the table. Peter didn’t budge. Didn’t say hi, only gave his high-pitched yup, as his eyes remained locked on the two screens.

“So, can I ask you about your message? I’m a little confused,” Alicia dropped her bag off in the desk next to his.

Peter, turned and stared at her, silently, without emoting. She looked into his one piercing blue eye and his other, cybernetic eye, which was a blueish gray.

What did he see through that eye wondered Alicia.

Peter grabbed a donut from the box and devoured it in three bites, “What part of the message was confusing?”

The kid never meant cruelty or disrespect. He was on a genius on the spectrum. Peter can’t even read emotions.

“Your message kinda sounded like you are saying the storm is taking a different trajectory. What model are you basing that on?

He was swallowing the final bite of the first donut and grabbing a second out of the box, “I created a new model a few years ago for tracking temperature variations and wind patterns that used a different set of factors in the calculations. It was my thesis project.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it before?” asked Alicia.

“How do you think I got this job. But you…” Peter was taking large bites of his donut and trying to answer with his mouth full. “…you know. I thought they were interested in using my formulas. No. They just keep me to solve their big tech problems.”

“I value you more than just a glorified techy.” Peter didn’t look up or acknowledge Alicia. He just let out a “hmm” and continued on with what he was doing.

Peter launched a program on his monitors. The one on the right filled with graphs and working equations. The one on the left was a dark radar image of the Atlantic Ocean. He zoomed into the region of the Caribbean and Bahamas with Florida set near the edge of the screen.

“Those people at the hurricane center are using a very old and not so good system to track the potential path of the storm.”

“Peter,” Alicia wanted to be careful not to come off antagonistic. “They use the Manchen Model which has been around a long time. Are you saying the model is wrong?”

“I already said that.”

So much for subtly.

“Help me understand Peter. What did you find?”

Peter’s fingers moved on the transparent keyboard the way hammers tap the strings of a piano playing Mozart. The left screen changes and the radar image of Tropical Storm Caru spins on a loop.

“This is the data from the hurricane people. They keep saying that there’s only a ten percent chance the storm will hit us. They also think it’ll be a smaller hurricane. The Manchen Model is wrong though. They’re so wrong.”

Alicia stared at the storm, as disorganized as it looked, and wanted to give Peter a lecture. She held back, wanting to hear him out, “What does your system do that that Manchen Model doesn’t?”

Peter took a third donut into his mouth, “I created an algorithmic program that used some of the new data from the ARIES data points. The Manchen Model doesn’t.”

“I’m sorry. What is the ARIES…”

“Ten years ago Art Falcon, a pretty smart guy, created the ARIES data point systems. It was a new way of reading wind patterns. It’s used by the Japanese and Tiawanese. Their ability to track storms and weather got a lot better. The Manchen Model was created way before that and doesn’t use the ARIES data.”

“What else does your system use?” asked Alicia. She always thought herself a smart enough person with two degrees from Northwestern. Next to Peter, she felt inadequate.

Peter wolfed down the donut and chugged half his latte. “My algorithm takes all the same data that the hurricane people use. Along with ARIES I also use current BlackHole satellite info. All of these take a lot of data that no one else is using.”

“OK,” said Alicia trying not to look or sound flustered. “What did you find?”

Peter pointed to the screen, “This is the storm and what their guess is about where it’s going.”

The storm increased into a hurricane category one storm, forming into a more cyclone-shaped storm, then turning north before leaning into South Florida.

“Now, with my program, here’s what it looks like,” he tapped a few buttons and pointed back at the screen.

The storm moved slowly over the northern Bahamas and tightened up into a more-perfectly shaped cyclone with a well-defined eye. The clouds around it changed to yellow, then orange, finally a crimson red. The eye was a black spot like a giant pupil staring back at Alicia. It hit the Abaco Island and grew in size by more than half. The storm continued moving toward south Florida until it swallowed it whole.

“Does your algorithm have a percentage rate?” asked Alicia.

“Yeah. It’s about fifty percent right now. Every twelve hours that will change.”

“What do you think that storm will become if it hits us?” Alicia never took her eyes off the image in Peter’s program. She was scared to ask, because from the radar image, the storm was a monster in size and strength.

“It could get up to a Category Four.”

“Every twelve hours send me an update on what happens, please.” Alicia rolled her chair over to her desk. Her face a little flush. She couldn’t put her finger on it, what she was processing at that moment. This was the first potential storm of her short career as the city’s Resilience Enforcer.

Later that morning, Alicia was going over her contacts checklist she had spent weeks putting together in case of a storm. Her CUBE dinged on her wrist. She tapped it to go to her desktop screen. It’s a message from Director Corrientes.

Alicia, I’m heading to the office. I want to have a meeting with the staff, if you can please organize it. I’ll be there in 30 minutes. By the way, the meeting is mandatory.

Director Corriente arrived exactly twenty-nine minutes after she said she would. The entire department was on hand for the meeting.

“I just arrived from the NHC headquarters. Here’s the latest. We are just on a Tropical Storm Watch for the time being. The cone of possibilty has it at ten percent it would hit us, and if it did, the chances are that we would face a category one storm. That’s nothing to sneeze at of course. So, let’s go with Level 1 protocol. We begin sending out the message that we are in a Tropical Storm Warning. We want people to avoid from rushing the stores. Just remind them that there’s now a price lock ordered by the governor but supplies are plenty and more are coming in 24 hours. Let’s stay calm and help the city stay that way. There will be updates every 12 hours. From this point forward, if there is landfall, we’re expecting it likely by the end of the week, around Thursday late in the afternoon. If you have questions, check with your department heads. That is all.”

Alicia follwed the director into her office, “Ma’am, can I take a moment of your time?”

“Officer Fernandez, of course, please sit down.”

“Thank you. Director, can I speak freely?”

“Go ahead.”

“Director, what if we need to issue a stronger warning? What if there’s a greater risk?”

“What do you mean? Explain.”

Alicia looked at the director’s desk, avoiding eye contact a moment, thinking of Peter, “We haven’t had a storm in more than a decade. What if we’re facing more apathy because of it. A lot of people moved here within the last few years and may never have seen a storm. What if we go one step further to make sure we’re being as cautious as possible?”

“You think that maybe people aren’t going to take this serious?”

“I’m just looking at all possibilities director. I want to protect as many lives as possible.”

“Officer Fernandez, we all want to protect lives. But, going beyond what the folks at the NHC and the governor’s office are recommending puts me, us out on a limb. They’ll call me the moment I send out that warning and probably calling for my head. We can’t just do that.”

“I understand director. I’ve never been through a storm. But, if I may, according to the city charter, we do have the legal ability to supercede the NHC, the mayor, and the state.”

“Watch it officer Fernandez. You are right, you haven’t been through a storm so please don’t lecture me about what happens. I have been through a few of these. Also, I know the city charter. Now, please start Level One protocols. That is all.”

Alicia went to the roof of the building to the small watchtower. It had a view of the ocean and the parts of the city not blocked by skyscrapers. The rain continued to pelt the city as far as the eye could see.

What was it like to live through a hurricane?

The twenty-five year old officer pondered her situation. She was angry with Peter. Before this morning she believed the system that she swore to protect. Yet, Peter’s argument is sound. He knows more than he may let on. What if he was right? Would the city be able to prepare in the final hours? Shouldn’t we do more to open shelters or get people out of the area?

The wind rapidly intensified, like a thousand people screaming. Alicia felt the ground beneath her shake. There was nothing she could grab onto. The sky all around had turned dark enough that all she could make out was one street light ahead a ways. Soon even that light would be cast out. Water began to roll over her feet and climb up her legs. Within a flash it was now at her chest. It was hard to move and she couldn’t even tell what direction she was going. Was there something to latch on to? The screaming wind became a defeaning roar. She had to keep her eyes closed. Still, thousands upon thousands of granules of sand pelted her face like miniature bee stings. They got larger. Alicia heard buildings crackle and fall away. There was no air in her lungs to let out a scream. All she could see was that black eye at the center of the storm. It stared back with a hunger to destroy.

Alicia jumped out of bed, her feet slapping the cold hardwood floor. Her heart punching through her chest cavity. The room dimly lit by the city lights outside. All she could see is that large black eye.

A few hours later the sun came up. It was the first time in two weeks. The rain let up, leaving the streets steaming from the humidity. Peter was already at his desk working.

Did he sleep here?

“Peter, I’m going to step out this morning. If anyone is looking for me I’m just checking up with the city’s resource centers to make sure everything is up to par.”

“Mmm. OK,” he never looked up.

Alicia took the mover to the University of Miami offices on South Beach One. They were located on the top floor of the old mall in the central part of the city. Dr. Moser was at his desk looking at a book, one of the few people she knew who still prefered reading off a page.

“Hello Officer Fernandez. It’s a pleasure to see you. And to what do I owe the honor of your visit?”

He also spoke in an older manner, one that didn’t exist anymore but Alicia enjoyed it.

“I wanted to come by and ask you about hurricanes.”

“Really? Come now, I doubt that. You can do a basic search on your CUBE and get the whole history. Why do you need to come to this old man?”

Allicia sat across from him on one of the old leather couches. These didn’t exist anymore. He did a great job of keeping old stuff looking good, “I could get all the information I need from my CUBE. But, I’d rather talk to the guy who lived through it. That is if you don’t mind.”

Dr. Moser grinned as he took off his reading glasses. He picked up his glass of grapefruit juice, “Well, I do have plenty of experience with that. Ask away.”

“How many storms have you lived through?”

“Hmm. Well, the last one was the storm of 62. Hurricane J-3. That was a category three that landed on New Miami early in the morning. It was a doozy. It was a rain event. Dropped the ocean right ontop of us and drowned out the city. Even though we had the upgrade to the pumps after the floods of 54 and 59. Water was sitting there for weeks. The city smelled horrible for months. There were a series of storms in the 40s that were pretty bad. We had the six storms of 43 and one big one every year from 46 to 50. There have been a bunch of smaller ones along the way. Oh, and there was 29. That was…well, that was something.”

“Would you mind telling me? What was the storm of 29?”

“Hurricane Ophelia. Sheesh, don’t tell me Mother Nature doesn’t have a sinister sense of humor. That was the strongest storm of the century by far, and we had three others that were categor five since. This one was different. It started the conversation of adding a sixth category, which they didn’t do for another twenty years. It had sustained winds of 225 miles per hour. Miami, back then it was just Miami not New Miami. Well, Miami wasn’t ready. That thing came out of nowhere. It was a tropical storm near Haiti then it turned north and sat in the water a day to build up. In twenty-four hours it turned to the largest category five on record. I still wonder how we survived.”

“How old were you when the storm hit? Again, if you don’t mind me asking.”

Dr. Moser waved her off with his hand and a smile, “I was forty-one. I was new to the university having transfered from Tallahassee. Man, the year I move to Miami we get smacked with that storm. Spent three days locked up in an underground bunker. That was the new EOC building at the time.”

“What did it do to the city?”

Mr. Moser stared at Alicia, his eyes watering slightly, “Devastation. Three large buildings collapsed. Thousands and thousands of homes were leveled. There were forty-two hundred deaths. Mostly poor poeple who couldn’t evacuate. The city needed to rebuild itself from the ground up. I mean, it took years to recover, but it became New Miami and it became a very modern city.”

“Do you think we could survive a storm like that today?”

“Not sure. The city is well prepared. We have good pump systems. We have the wall. Things are built different. I’d imagine we should survive. But, if I learned anything, we don’t have a good record against Mother Nature.”

Alicia spent the next half hour talking with Dr. Moser about his latest research. She didn’t go straight back to the office after leaving his place but instead headed toward the South Beach One Barrier Control Center (BCC). It’s at the northern end of city, right on the edge where the ocean cut the island in half. After the floods of 54, the area known as Bal Harbor had been separated from all the other regions and was demolished to turn back into a natural refuge.

The BCC building had a lovely view of the that sanctuary over the city’s wall. Alicia stepped into the main office, flashed her badge, “Is Armando in his office?”

The receptionist nodded and clicked the door to open.

“Come on in Officer Fernandez. What brings you around? Is there something new on Caru?”

“Maybe,” Alicia sat down and marveled at Armando’s desk. His former life was on full display. Armando, still a bear of a man at six-foot-seven was a little lighter today than his playing days as the Offensive Tackle for the Miami Dolphins. Pictures of him with the team, hanging out with fans, and the one where he held up the Championship Trophy, filled the room.

“What can I do for you Alicia?”

“I know the basic specs of the barrier. But, well, Armando, I’ve never been through a storm. How well will that thing hold up against massive floods and a big storm?”

Armando looked out over the window and pointed to the barrier. Alicia could see the aquamarine ocean on the other side.

“It’s been through three small tropical storms. So, it has never been truly tested. But, there’s a similar barrier in Singapore and theirs did experience a massive cyclone years ago. It stood up pretty well. I’m confident that so will this one.”

The barrier was a solid-looking elongated mound of metal and concrete, beautifully decorated to appear like the natural surroundings of a tropical beach from the inside, and like the cityscape from the outside. It stretched from the top of the city from what used to be Allison Park to South Point Beach, covering a distance of almost six miles.

“How big a storm surge can that wall handle Armando?”

“At least twenty feet. That’s conservative. Probably twenty-five. It won’t stop all of it but it’ll protect the city.”

“What’s the biggest surge ever recorded?”

Armando leaned back, staring at Alicia as if he was trying to open a lock, “The biggest ever was a cyclone in the Philippines like fifteen years ago or so. It was somewhere around thirty-five feet. No, wait. Hurricane Andromeda. That was in 2048 on the west coast of Mexico. There were unofficial reports it hit over forty feet. There were a few small coastal towns that just disappeared. What’s on your mind officer Fernandez?”

Alicia stared at him a few seconds, “I’ve never been through a storm Armando. We didn’t get anything like that back in Minnesota.”

“Well, it looks like this Tropical Storm Caru won’t become anything to worry about. At least that was the last report,” said Armando.

“Can’t storms turn on a dime? They can become massive and deadly in a day?”

“Yes,” replied Armando. “Are you worried that Caru could become that storm?”

“I’m not worried about me so much. This area hasn’t been hit with anything for years now. What if a massive storm hits and the people have become complacent? Lives could be lost.”

“Officer Fernandez. Alicia. Those of us from here know what a storm can do. I’ve been through a few. If that storm becomes something powerful and we’re in the path, I promise, the city will be ready. We’ve been through a lot in the last 100 years.”

His words didn’t comfort her. All Alicia could think about was Peter, and his oddly confident manner, which was devoid of all emotions, as he told her of the impending doom from the storm, “Do you have a safe home on high ground in case it comes through?”

“Of course. No worries. We are in one of the redeveloped parts of north Miami. It is high ground and a stury place. What about you?”

“Are you kidding? I’m alone down here. I’ll tape the windows and pray my place will survive, Meanwhile I’ll be living at HQ, much like you.”

The two let out a small giggle.

On the way back to the office Alicia’s CUBE went off. Director Corriente was calling.

Director, good morning. I’m heading back to the office. Where are you?

No time. Officer Fernandez, you need to go to the National Hurricane Center main headquarters. There’s an update on the storm within the hour. I can go because there’s an emergency in the city of New Miami and I need to take care of this. Can you make it?

Of course, director, I’m on my way. Is there something you’ll need me to do?

Yes, take notes. Use the AI assistant and just record the meeting. I’ll meet up with you as soon as I can.

Alicia skipped the hover taxi and took the land train since there was time.

The hurricane center was packed with reporters. There were four camera packs mounted in the back. Floating around the room were three mini-drones. One was from the Network FNN. The eigh monitors and four holograms beamed with images of a strengthening Caru.

The storm was becoming a more solid cyclone-shape. The eye was becoming larger, and darker.

By the top of the hour the meeting was beginning to gather. Three dozen city officials including mayors, police chiefs, and fire rescue personell were on hand. A six-foot-seven man walked up to the center of the room, the monitors at his back dimmed a little.

“Good morning. We have the latest from satellite imagery. If you please, look here to the radar video. Caru is forming into a bigger storm and is now a Hurricane category one. Our models still have it strengthening just a little bit more, with the greatest chance that it will begin to move in a northerly projection probably within the next twelee hours. The storm is still within the cone of possibility, yet as you can see, it’s moving more in the original projections.”

The director spent a few minutes giving a laundry-list of data about the storm and further projections of movement. Numerous cameras stared forward like dozens of pairs of owls eyes in the dark of night.

When he finished, he asked if any of the officials in the room had questions. Alicia stepped forward, raised her hand, but did not wait to be called upon, “Director. Hi, I’m officer Alicia Fernandez, South Beach One Resiliency Captain.”

Two dozen camers, most hovering, turned to their hallow lenses toward Alicia. She tried not to stare into them, still, could see the tiny red dots above them that signified they were recording, “Director, how confident should we be in the models that are making these projections?”

“Completly confident. I have no reason to believe that there’s any problem with them.”

Alicia never took her eyes off of him, even when he turned his eyes toward the cameras to answer, “The Japanese have been using a much more sophisticate method to track storm movements. How do we know that perhaps they might be ahead of us on this?”

Cameras turned back to the director, “The Manchin Model works. We’ve been using it for decades now and it has a good track record.”

“Except that,” cameras were back on Alicia. “We are still using the cone of possibility which has a large error index.”

“No more than twenty percent. The closer a storm gets, that shrinks significantly.”

“True, but director,” the owl-eyes grew as they zoomed in. “Storms also can blow up in size and strength very quickly. Why are we calling this storm a small threat when it’s still a couple of days away?”

The director stepped forward and placed his hands on one of the partitions of a desk. He leaned forward and wasn’t looking into the cameras, “I’ve never said it was a non-threat.”

“Not directly sir, but saying it’s only a ten-percent chance of hitting us as a small storm, isn’t that dangerous?”

“Officer Fernandez, your job is to protect our communities. My job is to get you the best data possible to do that. Please, trust in our ability to do that. OK, we’re going to have the next presser in three hours. I will be stationed here the rest of the time. Thank you.”

The room started clearing with a few people mumbling as they stared at Alicia. Half of the cameras were now turned in her direction. A couple followed her as she walked out of the main control room into the hallway before turning off and disengaging.

Her heart was beating fast. When will Director Corriente see that footage? What will she think?

Did I give Peter away? No, I never mentioned him. That’s why I said the Japanese. He’s safe.

Alicia headed for the back exit to avoid anyone or any other camera drone to stop her or say something that would set her off. She thought she was in the clear…

“Officer Fernandez. Hello, can I talk to you?”

Alicia turned to see a silver-haired gentleman walking up to her. He was wearing a NOAA polo shirt so at least he wasn’t a reporter.

He stopped a few feet from her, “Officer Fernandez, I’m Sam Arnold, one of the meteorologists here at the center. I figure you probably came to that conclusion.”

“What can I do for you Mr. Arnold?”

“We need to find a quiet place to talk. Please?” He walked into a door that led into a small conference room. Alicia braced herself for what was coming. “Thank you. Thank you for pushing back on the director like that.”

“I wasn’t pushing back. I’m just curious.”

“You have doubts. I see it in your eyes.”

“What’s your motive here Mr. Arnold?”

“No one questions anything anymore. I remember when, and sorry but I’m gonna sound off like an old geiser, but there was a time when we were encouraged to question things. We are living in strange times. Everyone is too scared.”

“I’m not sure where you’re going with this.”

“The Manchin Model is bullshit. For God’s sake, most of those people in there are too young to even know that it was named after a controversial lawmaker from the early part of the century. And, it was named after him as a sort of spite, a joke. It’s bullshit.”

“You’ve been here how long?” asked Alicia.

“Too long. Since 43. I was a regular weatherman for a local station in northern Florida before I got the gig at the Weather Service then I came here.”

“Have you held this feeling about the systems you use?”

“Most of my career. I know. I understand what you’re thinking. What sort of crank is this guy? Well, I’m the sort that knows how to play the game because he has to.”

“Do you know something Mr. Arnold, something that can help me?”

“I don’t know if Caru is going to become a big storm or not. I don’t have access to anything that’s gonna tell me or show me something more than what our models are telling us. But, I got the feeling that you do. You know something or you have access to something. Tell me, Officer Fernandez, what do you think is gonna happen,” Sam sat back with folded arms, putting the pressure on Alicia.

She stared at him for ten seconds before opening her mouth. Not a word came out. Time continued passing and his eyes grew larger with each passing second. It was too late to hide it.

“It’s not that I have something. It’s that I have a lot of doubt.”

“Wow. I think I’m looking at the next mayor of New Miami. That’s a very politician thing to say.”

Alicia shuffled in her stance. She thought about the perception of weakness and how she didn’t want him to notice it within her. Alicia took a deep breath without appearing to, “I think this storm could get a lot bigger, and could come our way. It’s reminding me too much about another storm from the past.”

“Wow, forget mayor. You could run for governor. OK, what storm? And I know you’re not from here so I doubt you know what a hurricane is like.”

“A lot of different storms. Heck, it could be like Ophelia. It grew overnight and became a devastating storm in less than a day. It looked like it was going to turn, but it didn’t.”

“Neither of us was alive for that, but you talk like you were there,” Sam leaned back in his chair and turned his gaze. He was growing tired of this coversation the way he had his job. “It’s like a lot of storms Officer Fernandez. But, I do believe you may have some information you’re not sharing. That’s fine.”

“And if I did, I couldn’t tell you. So stop asking.”

Sam stood up and walked over to Alicia, stopping when she took a step back, “That’s fine too. But, you have a responsibilty to protect the community. So, if you know something then use it and protect lives.”

Sam left the room and closed the door behind him. Alicia stayed standing there wondering how much longer she could keep the information Peter had shared with her a secret.

What if he’s wrong? Why am I protecting Peter instead of doing my job?

Alicia’s CUBE lit up. She tapped her glasses.

You have a call coming from Director Corrientes.

Take the call. “Hello Director, what can I do for you?”

“What the hell is going on? I just saw footage of you making an ass of yourself at the hurricane center. Do you understand that your actions are a reflection on me?”

“Director, I’m sorry. I meant no disrespect. I was just asking about the accuracy of the reporting on the storm.”

“Are you still on about the accuracy of the models? Come on Officer Fernandez, we went over this. We work with the folks at the NHC. We’re not here to challenge them. Now, I don’t have time for this with you. Please get back to the office. You’re in charge of it until I return.”

“Return? Where are you?”

“Look, I’m working with the mayor’s office and a few law enforcement groups right now about an emergency. There’s a problem brewing at Riverdale Village. It’s a situation that has gotten out of hand and unfortunately it’s taking up a lot of resources. Can I trust that you can handle things? I’ll be in touch with you every couple of hours to get an update. OK?”

“Yes director. I’ve got it.”

Sleep evaded Alicia. When she did finally pass out, Caru’s black eye awaited her in dreamland. Each time she felt the waters rise, the winds tear her skin off, and the howling…that demonic howling jolted her awake.

CUBE, give me the latest report on Hurricane Caru.

The National Hurricane Center report has Hurricane Caru now at a Category One storm. It has sustained winds of 85 miles per hour. It’s currently moving at a northwest west trajectory over the Great Abaco Island. The Manchin Model Cone of Possibility has the storm hitting New Miami at barely five percent.

Alicia looked ahead at the image that was spinning in the righthand corner of her AR glasses. The storm was forming into a tighter system. Then there was that eye. Becoming a small dark circle, as if it was squinting to stare harder at Alicia.

Two weeks of endless rain had stopped. New Miami gleamed and steamed under a hot August sun. The ride to South Beach One was smooth as the waters had calmed.

Alicia placed a box of six donuts and a latte on Peter’s desk. He didn’t look up, just gave his signature grunt, heh.

“Any changes?” Alicia hoped he might have some new news. She silently prayed he would mumble something about the storm is leaving the area.

“Yes. There’s a change.”

Alicia’s heart began thumping loud enough to echo in her eardrums, “Good news?”

“No. My equations have it increased. The storm should grow a lot in the next day and we’re now at about a fifty-fifty chance of a direct hit.”

Alicia’s heart felt as if it had sunk into her bowels, “OK. Do me a favor, by the end of the day, wherever I may be, at this desk or out and about, please message me the latest update.”

“Yes boss,” He never looked up. His one cyber eye moved around faster than his natural eye. He didn’t need AR glasses or the VR set. That cyber eye could do even more.

Sitting at her desk, Alicia tossed around an idea she never expected she’d have to think about. Last week’s version of me wouldn’t have even considered such a thing was all she could say to herself.

The director was tied up with the case at Riverdale Village. She had left Alicia in charge. But, that didn’t necessarily meant that she had carte blanche.

Technically, it did. The resiliance department charter stated that when the director was out of the state, out of contact for more than 12 hours, or has given the charge to the Resiliency Officer Captain, which was Alicia, she could act as the director. She had power that only the mayor of the county could weild.

Alicia stared at the radar image of the hurricane. A category one was not mild in any form. After the great floods of the 50s New Miami had to rethink its flood plan. It built unpopular sea walls, added a larger pumping system, raised some roads, and elevated the transit system far above ground. Even heavy rains have a massive impact on the city’s ability to operate. A category one or two storm would put strains on the system. It would handle it, but there’s always a price.

Alicia left the office. She figured she’ll be spending a lot of time in there by the end of the week. Hell, if Peter is right, that will be her home for some time.

I need to get a hold of Legalos.

Hiding in the neighborhood of Wynwood, a once bustling arts deco, now the local of most affordable housing and an underground cyber scene, Alicia found the secret cafe that remains hidden behind an old ventanit and a CUBE store.

She sits at a small table and orders a coffee and pastelito. Alicia removes her CUBE and takes out a second CUBE-like piece and wraps it around her wrist.

Morgana, find Legalos.

The voice in her headset now responded in a deeper female voice with a British accent.

Searching for Legalos.

Moments later a green dot matrix cursor popped up in the center of her vision.

Very interesting to hear from you O.A.F. Are you on a secure line?

“Yes,” replied Alicia in a whisper.

So, what does the city’s protector and one of the system’s lackies, want with little ole me?

“Legalos, we have to meet.”

Wait, I’m not that fond of being seen with authority figures. It’s bad for the image. What are you doing to protect me?

“I’m not sitting here in Wynwood in my uniform with a badge flashing everybody.”

Are you at my favorite coffee spot? Oh, didn’t we meet there way back in the day. You’re so poetic and kinda romantic.

“Stop playing around Legalos. Please, I need to speak with you.”

Hmm. Your tone sounds desperate. This is going to be both really good for me, and still you might find a way to screw me over.

“This isn’t about you or me. It’s about protecting a lot of people.”

It’s always about someone. And since you’re calling me, it’s definitely about me.

“I came to you because what I need can’t go through regular channels. Please. I can’t continue this conversation out in the open.”

Whoa. You are in trouble. This definitely could be good for me. Fine. Hold your horses or something. I’ll be there before you know it.

The answer was vague. Alicia ended up waiting close to an hour. She had already drank three coffees.

“Hello ma’am. My name is JB. You seem lost. Can I help you with something,” a male figure, with long blonde hair tied in a bun, and an old Cuban collared shirt sat at her table. He took off his glasses and two cyber eyes stared back at her.

“JB? Really? So how many alter-egos do you have? Because I’m guessing that Legalos is not your real name,” said Alicia.

“Wait. Just a sec. It’s a tight space in here. We need a little privacy,” JB took out a Rubiks Cube-sized device. He tapped the top three times. Alicia felt a pop in her ears before her hearing cleared. “It’s a sound buffer. It’s new tech from Rio. Those Brazil kids are crazy awesome. It creates a sort of bubble so no one can make out what we’re talking about. It’s just tiny pulses being sent out. We’re fine now.”

JB took a sip out of a glass that was longer than his face and bright pink. Alicia didn’t ask what he was drinking. She slid a small envelope across the table and stirred her coffee a moment.

JB took it and opened it and never showed any emotion as he stared at a apple-seed-sized disk that slipped into his hand, “I wonder what would be so hot that the resilience officer of South Beach One wants to meet with me and then slip me a data bar.”

“This is information about the storm. It might be worse than we expect it to be, and it might come right for us.”

“And what are you expecting me to do with this?”

“I can’t convince my bosses to think about the possibilities.”

“So, you thought I would post this on the second web and then everyone would lose their shit and you’d get that idiot director to pull her head out of her ass?”

“Not yet. I mean posting it. Wait until I give you the green light. I can’t send that through any of my channels because…”

“Your bosses are watching you. They’ll catch this and you won’t just get fired, you’ll get thrown into a cell.”

“Wait until I give you the signal and then post it. The information is ID-protected so no one can trace it back to anyone.”

“Look at you. Who knew that such a goody-two-shoes would have such scoundrel-like knowledge.”

“It can protect you as well, except that I figure you’ll post it under your name, or whichever name, because you want the attention.”

“And no one knows about our friendship?”

“Do you call this a friendship?” asked Alicia as she took a sip of her coffee.

“That hurts my feelings. I think we have a powerful relationship, just without that sloppy shit like feelings and sex.”

“Can you leave the area?”

“See. You care about me. You don’t want me to get hurt. Yeah, I can leave anytime I want.”

“Then get out tonight.”

“Is this storm gonna be that bad? How do you know?”

“Let’s just say…”

“It’s that new cyborg kid you guys hired.”

“His name is Peter. He has a title.”

“I don’t care. He’s supposed to be some super genius. Do you think he was born that way or they added some more microchips into that head?”

“There’s reason to believe the storm could be really bad. So, save yourself or don’t.”

“Please be careful. See, I care about you. Truthfully, I do like you. Your bosses I hate. I don’t want to see you get hurt. I’ll be sad, at least for a little bit.”

Alicia left the cafe and changed back into her gear on the train to the office. She went back to the roof and sat in the tower overlooking the beach. Out across the wall she could see a few boats around the three small barrier islands. While she worried about a killer storm there were others who wanted to celebrate the return of the sunshine.

Later than night she had a hard time going to sleep. Alicia sat on her bed and put on her glasses.

CUBE. Give me the latest news on Caru.

For WPPR News I’m Alejandra Perez. The National of Hurricane Center reports that Hurricane Caru remains a category one storm with maximum sustained winds of 80 mph. It’s moving at a west to northwest path at over 18 mph. As of 4 o’clock this afternoon it was over Abaco Island of the northern Bahamas. Reports from the island state that power is out as communities are taking a hit from strong winds. Bahamian officials have stated that at its current size, it should pass over the northern Bahamas over the next 24 to 30 hours. Hurricane official still believe the storm is likely to turn on a northern trajectory within that time and move away from the region.

We have this breaking report from the news desk. We go to Mauricio Hernandez for a story about hurricane Caru on the second web.

Mauricio: there is an unverified report from the second web stating that the Hurricane Center, and new Miami, and Florida authorities may be miss-reporting the truth about the hurricane. The storm remains a category, one hurricane and officials believe it will remain at this size as it turns on a northerly path within the next day. The report claims that the hurricane center, using the Manchin Model, is off. It also claims that the storm is likely going to continue on a westerly path toward new Miami and should strengthen over the next 30 hours. We reached out for comment from the hurricane director Samuel Borden.

Borden: the reports from the second web are not to be trusted. We don’t validate information that comes from the second web. Our model say the storm is likely to turn. Yes, there is still a chance it could head west and yes, there is still a chance it could strengthen as it moves west. But at the moment the models tell us that there is less than a 10% chance it hits new Miami. Please be careful with where you get your information.

Mauricio: we also reached out to South Beach One Resiliency Director Alexa Corriente. She was not available when we called.

I figured he’d do that.

Alicia took a few deep breaths and still felt her blood pressure ready to pop. The news was out and she hoped that all her efforts to protect herself and Peter would work. Her CUBE began to buzz. It was the director.

“Officer Fernandez, I want an explanation. Who and how did this information get out?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure director.”

“You’re in charge while I’m gone. You need to know.”

“Director Corriente, I am inquiring about this immediately.”

“Alicia, did you have something to do with this?” Alexa never shied from bluntness.

“Director, no. But, I will get answers for you as fast as I can,” Alicia got a message that popped up in the left-hand corner of her vision. Peter had been picked up. He was at internal affairs headquarters. “Director, why did you pick up Peter? Why does internal affairs have him in custody?”

“Because we’ve known that he has his own computation system and we know that he’s been coming up with different data on the storm.”

“Wait, you’ve known all along that he has this algorithm he’s using? Were you ever gonna tell me?”

“Of course, we knew. How do you think we came to hiring him? We’ve known all about him for a while. He also seems like the type who might know some people on the second web. As smart as he is, and he’s tried very hard to hide his tracks, we’re tracking everybody all the time.”

“Is he wrong?”

“That’s not the point. There are protocols and we have to follow those protocols because lives are on the line. Or do you not remember your oath to the city?”

“Director, what if he’s right? Shouldn’t we do everything we can to protect those lives?”

“Officer Fernandez, I’ll ask you one more time. Did you have anything to do with that data getting on the second web?”

“I’ll repeat, no, I did not. Please let me question Peter. Let me gather the information. I’ll have everything to you before midday tomorrow.”

“We don’t have time officer Fernandez. This has created an incredible mess that we cannot deal with at this time. Peter will remain in custody until after.”

“After what?” Ask Alicia still trying to remain calm and keep her voice from quivering.

“The city is dealing with the situation at Riverdale Village. We don’t have the resources at the moment to face this and a possible hurricane.”

“But if that storm does come this way, and if it’s as big as the data says, we’re gonna have a lot more to deal with than anything that’s happening in any part of the city.”

“Officer Fernandez, that will be a full investigation next week. You will be brought in for questioning. For now I need you to continue what you are doing making sure that all of the cities resources are being put in the right place. There is a small chance that hurricane can hit us and we do need to be ready and you need to do your job if you wanna protect those lives.”

Alicia didn’t sleep much that night. She got up earlier than normal and headed into the office. Peter’s desk felt lifeless because he was always there before she was. All Alicia could think about was how insane he must be feeling sitting in a cell unable to connect to any technology.

She checked the storm data. The latest update from the hurricane center now had Hurricane Caru at a category two level. And the storm had slowed down to almost 8 mph. It was still moving in a Westerly direction. Over the next 12 hours, it was supposed to turn, but it wouldn’t.

To hell with it.

Alicia left the office and decided that it was now time to take action. She figurative she was gonna get in trouble. She might as well do all she could to get the city ready. Being angry with Peter was never an option.

He’s a good kid. And he’s way smarter than all of us and the world’s gonna need him a lot more than me.

Her first stop was the South Beach One police station. She walked into the chief office. He held up his hand as he was on a call. Alicia didn’t sit down, but just stared at him.

“Officer Fernandez, why are you here?”

“Chief Ramirez, I need you to bring the city into a code red. This is a full out emergency. I need all the shelters opened and manned and I need an evacuation ordered in the next three hours.”

The chief, most of his hair now a bright gray, and his middle age hanging over his buckle, just a little, lean forward on his desk, “I haven’t received anything from anybody telling me to go to code red.”

“Chief, I am the acting director for the city…”

“Yeah, I know that. But there’s nothing coming down from the governor’s office and nothing from the hurricane center. I can’t just go to a code red.”

“Chief Ramirez, you know protocals. It is within my authority to make this order.”

“Officer Fernandez, excuse me, director, this is not following protocal. You are stepping into waters you don’t understand.”

“Please, Chief, I know what I’m doing and we need to do all we can to protect the city.”

“Hey, don’t tell me about protecting the city. You don’t live here. This has been my home for longer than you’ve been alive.”

“Chief…”

“Look acting director, I’m protesting this move. Starting an evacuation alone could start riots. People don’t believe that the storm is coming this way.”

Alicia appreciated the long nights in college playing poker with the guys. Seldom did they allow a woman into their game.

“Chief Ramirez, I believe you to be a man of honor. I wouldn’t pretend to tell you anything about your city. I will do whatever I must. Please, order the code red.”

The two stood face to face for close to a minute not talking. Chief Ramirez lifted his arm and spoke into his wristband, “CUBE, get my assistant.”

Three seconds later a woman’s voice came over his desk speaker, “Chief, I’m here.”

“Mandy, get the lieutenants to my office immediately. This is an emergency. Also, send out the city-wide code red. I repeat, that is a code red. All protocals are to be followed.”

“Yes sir.”

Chief Ramirez stared at Alicia, his brow relaxing, “Alicia, I hope you know the shitstorm this will create. You will fry for this.”

“Thank you, Chief Ramirez. I’ll be checking in hourly to make sure we’re on schedule.”

Alicia spent the rest of the morning hitting up some of the key spots of the city like the barrier office, two shelters, and fire services. No one else questioned her remarks, calling for a code red.

Her cube on her wrist was buzzing frantically. She tapped her glasses and saw the name director Corriente calling.

Take the call.

“Officer Fernandez, would you like to explain yourself right now?”

“Miss Corriente, I do not want to explain myself because I am acting director. I’m doing what’s in the best interest of the city.”

“I can return to the office within the hour and take back my rightful position and then have you arrested.”

“Then why haven’t you?”

“Are you not watching the news? Do you not understand what is happening at Riverdale Village?”

“I want you to release Peter immediately and get him back to the office because I’m gonna need him. We have got to get the city ready.”

“You have a lot of audacity saying something like that. When this is all over, you will pay dearly for it.”

“Mrs. Corriente I am not worried about what’s gonna happen to me. I am scared for what will happen to the city.”

“What are you talking about? You’re basing your information on some algorithm Peter made. Have you ever stopped to think about what he might be doing to you? There are protocols and it’s unlike you to break them. You’ve just ended your career.”

A flashing light came across her vision. She tapped her CUBE to open the message while still talking to the director. It was an emergency message from the NHC. In the last ten hours Hurricane Caru turned into a category five storm. It is now moving west at an increased speed. The cone of possibility now has it at eighty-five percent chance of hitting south Florida.

“I take it that you just saw the same emergency signal I just got.”

There was a silence in her earpiece. It lasted for 60 seconds, “I don’t know what this means. But we’re not finished by any means. I’ll be back in the office this afternoon. I take it. You’ve already gotten the ball rolling on code red protocols. So just continue to do so.”

“Mrs. Corriente, I am ordering you not to come back to the office. Go home and protect your family. I will not let you back in because I’m declaring an SOE at the office and will continue as the director until the storm is over. I’m sorry but at this point I have to do this. It’s not about you or me but all these people that we need to protect. I’ll see you after the storm. May God be with us.”

Alicia tapped her glasses and then ordered the number blocked. She called the resiliency office board and announced to them her intent to order an SOE and her need to take control for the storm. She didn’t know if it would fly, but she must’ve gotten lucky. No doubt the message would be getting to to her boss. If she even tried to get near the office should be arrested.

The hurricane Center director was on the news as soon as the emergency message had gone out. The storm had grown and was not turning. It was now heading right for the city. Evacuations were ordered, shelters were opened, and police were now everywhere trying to lock things down.

Alicia went to the roof of the resiliency office building one last time before the storm. She looked around and saw people scrambling to get out or the bunker down. She looked out across the Atlantic ocean and saw a thin black line. It was the edge of the storm. By early evening temperatures were drop by 30°. Winds would pick up.

Alicia had never been through a hurricane before. And the city had not experienced anything like Caru in decades. Before she closed the door to the roof and head to the core of the building, which was the safest place, she looked back and could see that perfect black, circular eye somewhere out there staring back at her. She tapped her cube to call her mother. It would be her last call that night.