Mitheral
"Growf!"
What could've happened if the Cuban missile crisis had turned into all-out nuclear war - We Are The Mighty
Excerpts
On Oct. 27, multiple events nearly triggered a war. Perhaps the most dangerous moment was when the Soviet B-59 submarine deployed to Cuba was “signaled” by the USS Beale and USS Cony through the use of sonar, practice depth charges, and hand grenades. The Soviet submarine was carrying a 15-ton nuclear torpedo but was ordered to use it only if American forces blew a hole in the hull or orders came down from Moscow.
The moment history changed: The taunting ended with just such a hole.
The exchange would go wildly in America’s favor, but vast swaths of Europe, China, and North America would lay in ruins alongside the deceased Soviet Union. The American military would count losses in the hundreds of thousands in a single day of fighting.
The Earth that the doubles come from, Earth II, is the world of the aftermath of this war.
********
Jul 12, 2023 Wednesday
Littleton, MT
Population 9106
That’s what the sign read as Erik Blackwell throttled his Harley down a little. Past experience had taught him that law enforcement tended to watch their city limits. And as a habit he had learned that one of the best stretches to get a speeding ticket or get on the wrong side of the law in general. He scanned his rear view mirror. Sure enough, there was yet another Deputy Dog with a radar gun pointed at him. Several years ago he would have rode a wheelie past the deputy before testing how many horses the guy had under the hood.
But nothing happened. Littleton was another sleepy town. But it was a good stopping place. His B&B app had listed a new place in the town, the Warm Springs Bed and Breakfast. So he had decided to make a reservation and stay for a MONTH - paid in advance - best room in the place. The GPS took him right past the place with no signs of parking in front, so he took the next side street and circled around to the back. There he found parking.
Erik’s motorcycle was a Harley Davidson chopper with a trailer behind it for his luggage. He had done the custom mechanical work himself. It was the second such bike he had made for himself, the first being some ten years ago. This bike had a name - Jarvis. The bike components had been a gift from his last employer, Dr Alex Tanis. The name had been a personal joke. The name was emblazoned on the side of the gas tank in flaming letters. On either side of the name was a boxing glove.
When he had first met Alex, the guy had been pinned under a 1970 Electra Glide in near mint condition. The kid had been trying to kick start it. Alex’s estate was off the beaten path. He literally could have starved to death. But Erik jumped the wall and helped Alex out. After that they got to talking and Alex offered him a job as a driver, handyman, and maintenance man. Erik’s one condition was that Alex never call him Jarvis or Jeeves or any other cliche butler name. Erik ended up teaching Alex how to ride a motorcycle. He also gave the guy boxing lessons. Alex became sort of a kid brother.
Alex had offered the Electra Glide. But Erik declined, stating that the bike belonged in Alex’s collection. The chopper was the compromise. Jarvis had been Alex’s rebellion.
************
Xander Thompkins couldn’t have been happier to become an adult. It had freed him to leave home. His parents had been far too controlling. They were off the grid survivalists obsessed with the coming end of civilization. If they had had their way he would never see the world. But leaving against their will had meant not having their support. He was cash poor.
For mobility he had literally resurrected an old pickup from a junkyard and built his own campershell and a short U-haul type trailer. They didn’t look great, but it provided a place to live for now. He didn’t really need power as he had solar panels cobbled together along with some recovered hybrid car batteries that he had rejuvenated. He had two solar water distillers and a large, well-insulated water tank. He made his own biodiesel.
He also had a M1030M1, a diesel motorcycle used by the USMC. It was his pride and joy. It had been destined for the scrap heap when he got it a few years back. But he had rebuilt it and breathed life into it once more. It was his motorcycle that gave him real mobility when he found a place to call home for a week or so. (The M1030M1 is famous for the fact that it “sips” fuel.) He had taken up ‘residence at a campsite near Littleton.
Living on his own he had had little difficulty getting meat into his provisions. Vegetables, on the other hand, proved harder to come by. More and more he was having to hit local markets for produce. That, in turn, was draining his funds. It was becoming a Catch 22 situation. He needed to find work. Toward that end he had begun scouring Help Wanted ads and bulletin boards, as well as keeping his eyes peeled for signs.
GBP
Sistros
Excerpts
On Oct. 27, multiple events nearly triggered a war. Perhaps the most dangerous moment was when the Soviet B-59 submarine deployed to Cuba was “signaled” by the USS Beale and USS Cony through the use of sonar, practice depth charges, and hand grenades. The Soviet submarine was carrying a 15-ton nuclear torpedo but was ordered to use it only if American forces blew a hole in the hull or orders came down from Moscow.
The moment history changed: The taunting ended with just such a hole.
The exchange would go wildly in America’s favor, but vast swaths of Europe, China, and North America would lay in ruins alongside the deceased Soviet Union. The American military would count losses in the hundreds of thousands in a single day of fighting.
The Earth that the doubles come from, Earth II, is the world of the aftermath of this war.
********
Jul 12, 2023 Wednesday
Littleton, MT
Population 9106
That’s what the sign read as Erik Blackwell throttled his Harley down a little. Past experience had taught him that law enforcement tended to watch their city limits. And as a habit he had learned that one of the best stretches to get a speeding ticket or get on the wrong side of the law in general. He scanned his rear view mirror. Sure enough, there was yet another Deputy Dog with a radar gun pointed at him. Several years ago he would have rode a wheelie past the deputy before testing how many horses the guy had under the hood.
But nothing happened. Littleton was another sleepy town. But it was a good stopping place. His B&B app had listed a new place in the town, the Warm Springs Bed and Breakfast. So he had decided to make a reservation and stay for a MONTH - paid in advance - best room in the place. The GPS took him right past the place with no signs of parking in front, so he took the next side street and circled around to the back. There he found parking.
Erik’s motorcycle was a Harley Davidson chopper with a trailer behind it for his luggage. He had done the custom mechanical work himself. It was the second such bike he had made for himself, the first being some ten years ago. This bike had a name - Jarvis. The bike components had been a gift from his last employer, Dr Alex Tanis. The name had been a personal joke. The name was emblazoned on the side of the gas tank in flaming letters. On either side of the name was a boxing glove.
When he had first met Alex, the guy had been pinned under a 1970 Electra Glide in near mint condition. The kid had been trying to kick start it. Alex’s estate was off the beaten path. He literally could have starved to death. But Erik jumped the wall and helped Alex out. After that they got to talking and Alex offered him a job as a driver, handyman, and maintenance man. Erik’s one condition was that Alex never call him Jarvis or Jeeves or any other cliche butler name. Erik ended up teaching Alex how to ride a motorcycle. He also gave the guy boxing lessons. Alex became sort of a kid brother.
Alex had offered the Electra Glide. But Erik declined, stating that the bike belonged in Alex’s collection. The chopper was the compromise. Jarvis had been Alex’s rebellion.
************
Xander Thompkins couldn’t have been happier to become an adult. It had freed him to leave home. His parents had been far too controlling. They were off the grid survivalists obsessed with the coming end of civilization. If they had had their way he would never see the world. But leaving against their will had meant not having their support. He was cash poor.
For mobility he had literally resurrected an old pickup from a junkyard and built his own campershell and a short U-haul type trailer. They didn’t look great, but it provided a place to live for now. He didn’t really need power as he had solar panels cobbled together along with some recovered hybrid car batteries that he had rejuvenated. He had two solar water distillers and a large, well-insulated water tank. He made his own biodiesel.
He also had a M1030M1, a diesel motorcycle used by the USMC. It was his pride and joy. It had been destined for the scrap heap when he got it a few years back. But he had rebuilt it and breathed life into it once more. It was his motorcycle that gave him real mobility when he found a place to call home for a week or so. (The M1030M1 is famous for the fact that it “sips” fuel.) He had taken up ‘residence at a campsite near Littleton.
Living on his own he had had little difficulty getting meat into his provisions. Vegetables, on the other hand, proved harder to come by. More and more he was having to hit local markets for produce. That, in turn, was draining his funds. It was becoming a Catch 22 situation. He needed to find work. Toward that end he had begun scouring Help Wanted ads and bulletin boards, as well as keeping his eyes peeled for signs.
GBP
Sistros
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