Thanks to CajunBear73, Skrillwriter, and everyone else for their reviews and input.

=O=

Chapter 21: Intense Crisis

Wuhan

Hubei Province, Joint Government of the Pacific

The neighborhood echoed with the laughter of children, running after each other in games of tag under the light of the full moon.

Ingrid Hofferson smiled at a small boy as he ran through their backyard, clutching a softly glowing paper lantern on the end of a stick. The kid gave a wave, and Ingrid waved back.

A whoop rang through the night, and, across the fences of the neighborhood, a small gout of flame roared skyward as some older children, in the infinite unwisdom of youth, finished dumping the last of their glowing candles into a cake tin. Hopefully, nobody would get seriously injured.

Ingrid had just finished hanging up the washing when her husband came out of the house. She rushed to his side as he stepped past the sliding door.

"You should know better than to come out here alone, with those knees of yours! And a head injury is no joke at our age!"

Arvid Hofferson smiled even as his aching knees, a product of one too many hard parachute landings, protested strongly to his exertions. "Oh, poppycock! I can walk perfectly well, arms or no arms! I even did the grocery shopping the other day. Granted, I had help, but still…"

He shrugged to emphasize the point, moving his empty sleeve and his stump – injuries courtesy of the Imperial Japanese Army Air Force.

"Sit down!" His wife motioned to the lawn chairs, and he duly laid back. "Why do you insist on worrying me so?"

He smiled. "Why do you insist on hanging up the washing instead of using the dryer?"

"I told you, it's easier on the clothes. And sunlight is cheaper than electricity!" Ingrid lay down on her lawn chair.

"And I told you, I want to spend more time outdoors. With my wife." He chuckled.

They both chuckled, and gazed upwards at the glorious full moon.

Arvid cleared his throat. "Astrid's letter came in today, you know. She flew a combat mission last week! Got shot at too!"

Ingrid bit her lip. The day they'd signed the treaty ending the Amur War had been the third-happiest day of her life.

Because it meant her little girl wouldn't have to go over Siberia again.

"What's she doing getting shot at?! We aren't at war with those dirty Communists over the border already, are we?"

Arvid swallowed. "I know you worry, but she's flying the best planes we have. She'll be fine. In happier news, she went to Atomland as a treat! Got to see a nuclear test!"

Ingrid nodded. "Good to see her enjoying herself a little instead of sending every penny back here."

Arvid made a noise. "Well, she managed to get a young lad to go with her, so the car rental was cheap."

Ingrid sat up. "Finally! What's his name! What's he like!"

Arvid shrugged. "Now, honey, let's not get ahead of ourselves; there's nothing in here that says…"

"What on Earth is that?!" Ingrid squinted at the sky, and Arvid followed her gaze.

The sky over the suburb, somewhat isolated from the artificial lighting of the urban core, had been studded with stars as usual. But now, diffuse curtains of red, violet, and green snaked across the sky, undulating and pulsing with mesmerizing steadiness.

"The northern lights? Here?" Ingrid's jaw had gone wide. "That can't be right. Oh dear, what if it's a solar storm?! Those poor astronauts! What will this do to the Mars mission schedule?!"

Arvid smiled faintly as his wife began fretting over the possibility of avionics damage to the two Mars-bound nuclear-thermal-rocket spacecraft, currently being assembled in Low Orbit, and thanked his lucky stars that he had married such an intelligent, thoughtful, and hardworking woman. With some shame, he reflected on his missing arms and barely adequate disability benefits.

"Wow! That's odd." Their neighbors had come out to see the light show. "What is that?"

"Guys, guys! The radio's saying there's a nuclear war on! You know how those high-altitude tests over the Pacific made those pretty lights! Those are the same lights!" Mr. Qin from across the street huffed and puffed as he ran into the garden.

"Nuclear war?! Why?"

"A sneak attack, like the Japanese invasion!"

"Wow, could those lights be radioactive?! Are we all going to get radiation burns?"

Ingrid stood. "Now, now, let's not give in to panic. I hear no sirens, and see no flashes. Even if the aurorae are the result of a nuclear detonation, they are not going to be radioactive. Let's go inside and turn on the television."

Arvid followed his neighbors into the house, sitting down to take off his shoes. He found everyone gathered around the color television – the best in the neighborhood, Arvid thought proudly.

Mr. Qin was listening intently to the radio, the knob on which had been turned to the blue Civil Defense triangle. He shook his head. Nothing.

On the TV, in full color, children with flickering lanterns leapt three meters into the air as they chased each other through the cavernous grey environs of a gargantuan lunar lava tube. The broadcast of the Mid-Autumn celebrations at the experimental Lunar Colony was still on, apparently.

"There's nothing about the lights on this channel either."

"Shhh…"

"We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to bring you this special report. The President will now address the nation."

=O=

"My fellow Pacificans. Roughly ten minutes ago, the Communist Bloc conducted an unannounced high-altitude nuclear test over the uninhabited center of the Indian Ocean, similar to those we have conducted over the uninhabited islands of the Pacific. Such tests have been found to generate spectacular and beautiful lights in the sky, better described as auroral phenomena, both over the immediate vicinity of the tests and at some distance – up to thousands of kilometers - away. To people on Earth, these aurorae are completely harmless and identical in nature to the naturally occurring northern lights. They arise when the upper atmosphere absorbs atmospheric particles energized by the sun, an electric space thruster, or a powerful blast. As such, citizens in much of the Mainland who may have had the pleasure to see such aurorae may rest easy with the knowledge that they have seen a very rare – and quite spectacular - harmless geophysical phenomenon."

=O=

Astrid and Hiccup walked into the Officer's Club just as the scientific advisor finished speaking. The packed restaurant slowly resumed its usual hubbub as eyes drifted from the television.

Hiccup frowned. "Not a single word on casualties in orbit, or damage to our space infrastructure." He chewed his lip nervously, and shook his head.

"Or the fact that it was a ballistic missile launch!" Snotlout waved his fist at the television.

Ruffnut cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

Snotlout slammed his glass against the table. "What I mean is that four minutes before the aurora went live, half the damned squadron and every alert bomber on the base got scrambled! They picked the damned thing up on radar, thought it might have been live, and scrambled us!"

Hiccup gazed upwards in thought. "Where could they possibly have launched it from?"

Astrid waved a bartender over. "A ship?"

Hiccup stroked his chin. "I'm thinking along the lines of Soviet Kazakhstan. Overfly Afghanistan, overfly India, kaboom."

Astrid took a sip. "Too risky. I vote for a submarine. We launched a live ballistic missile from a Polaris sub just a few years back. So the Soviets have a secure second strike now. That's good news."

Hiccup nodded. "That would be great news. The Soviets won't have to worry about a sneak attack from us, and won't have to maintain such an aggressive preemptive nuclear posture. Everyone gets to back off, tensions go down a bit, and the strategic situation stabilizes a little more."

He felt the reservation slip in his pocket. "So… Astrid. We had a lot of fun at Atomland, and I was thinking that maybe… you might want to go to…"

Astrid turned pale. Goddamnit Hiccup! Not here! Not now! This place is loud, but not…

Snotlout took a seat behind Astrid. "So what's this about a trip to nerdtown? I'd certainly like to know more, just so I can arrange something better. An awesome trip for an awesome girl. And guy."

not loud enough. She glared at Hiccup.

Hiccup, completely missing her cue, stood. "It was fun. You know, Snotlout, some people learn to appreciate the technology that keeps civilization running instead of playing status games like a bunch of monkeys! If you just kept an open mind like Astrid did…"

Astrid stood, and gave Hiccup a shove.

Snotlout laughed. "Finally dumping the fishbone for a real man, eh, Astrid! Hey everyone!"

Astrid froze.

"Astrid Hofferson went on one date with Hiccup Haddock, and dumped his sorry ass!" Snotlout raised his hands in triumph even as three quarters of the audience turned away from Snotlout's ludicrous gesture in disgust.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Plan. Plan. Sensible response.

Astrid gulped. "Unlike you, Jorgenson, I do not have a rich Colonel for a daddy. And neither does my highly competent backseater get checks every week from his daddy to feed his habits." She took a deep breath. "And as Pacifican citizens and military personnel, we have a duty to familiarize ourselves with the nuclear technology of this new age – for our moral as much as our professional development! As such, I took a day trip to the Lop Nur nuclear test site to witness a nuclear detonation at my personal expense. To defray the costs of car rental, I brought my backseater along! Is that clear, Jorgenson?!" She turned to Hiccup. "I will not be mocked for a professional trip."

The room had fallen silent, and for a moment Astrid thought she had gotten some form of reprieve.

Then the bartender turned the volume up on the television.

"…this special report. The Indian government has just made a public statement regarding the high-altitude nuclear test on All India Radio, the Indian state radio and television service. We are receiving this footage live by satellite from our offices in East Pakistan. The contents of this broadcast may shock you."

The Indian Prime Minister, his scowling visage frozen midsentence, appeared on the screen.

The video was choppy and blurred, and the Prime Minster's voice grated with noise – the result of hurriedly converting from TV to tape, and then to a digital format suitable for satellite transmission, and then back to broadcast TV. Someone had evidently cut a lot of corners (and paid for a very good satellite connection) to scoop the other news channels.

But the message was clear enough.

"Through the herculean efforts of the Indian people and our great friend, the Soviet Union, we, in the utmost secrecy, have assembled on the sacred soil of India a great arsenal of thermonuclear bombs to defend our nation."

Astrid gaped as the Prime Minister continued to describe the effort at length. The broadcast is in English. Why is it in English?

"In addition to nuclear rocket artillery to bolster our ground forces, we now have at our disposal scores of long-range missiles, capable of reaching any city in the Mainland Joint Government within ten minutes of launch!"

Astrid nodded. Ah. It was intended for international consumption.

"And… to demonstrate the ability of these forces to defend the sacred soil of India at any time, we have conducted a test of one of our missiles! This test, witnessed by half the globe, was completely successful!"

Snotlout cheered. "See? See! I was right!"

"SHHHH!"

"With the might of the Atom on our side, it will no longer be possible for the Imperialists to bully our great nation! We shall emerge victorious from this great struggle!"

The broadcast ended, but the room remained silent. "What… the heck… just happened?!"

Hiccup's jaw closed. "They just pulled off a fait accompli. The Indians have a nuclear weapons sharing agreement with the Soviets, and there's absolutely nothing we can do about it short of all-out war."

Snotlout jeered. "Well, the Administration certainly screwed the pooch on this one. Biggest screwup since the Nip invasion. Economic security my ass. No way am I voting for those bastards again." He headed for the door.

Hiccup turned to Astrid. "Astrid, did you really mean what you said about…"

Astrid glared at Hiccup. "I thought we were past this. I thought you were smarter than this…" She paused as she caught a glimpse of Hiccup's face. Dear god, he was pleading. His face was always so obvious.

Of course I meant what I said, dummy. You're a colleague and a friend. Can't people go on trips with friends anymore without wanton speculation?

She stared into the hurt in Hiccup's eyes – why did he have to stare directly into hers?

Yeah, so what was with the flirting? Wasn't that a tad excessive? I didn't even try to act professional! He's nice. And I trust him completely… and I liked his company…

And he's screwing you over all the same! He's caused nothing but problems for you since the first day you met him. He's causing problems now!

He always tried his best. It wasn't his fault. He had a crush on you for years – and yes, don't kid yourself, you knew about it! You need to say something!

Hiccup's eyes were dancing around Astrid's face now, trying to find some answer, any answer in Astrid's hard-set expression.

You need to function. To work. You can't work with the squadron scuttlebutt all over your case! You can't work when you're wasting time thinking about his case!

"Hiccup, just stop asking questions. I can't handle you right now. You're a huge problem, you know that?" Astrid blurted.

"Well… would you still like to go to a nice restaurant with me?"

"No." Astrid barked.

Hiccup's inquisitive face disintegrated into a puzzled mess. "Astrid, I'm just trying to…"

Astrid groaned. "Just stop trying, Hiccup. Not now."

Hiccup's face fell as persistence and curiosity failed him once again, as they had failed him so, so many times before throughout his twenty-eight years on the Blue Planet. "Okay, Astrid. Okay. Dagnabit. Double dagnabit." He began to nod.

Astrid rolled her eyes.

The squadron XO jogged in through the front door. "Hey people! We've just been bumped up to Defcon 2! CO wants us called in and ready for strategic missions stat!"

Astrid got to her feet, and dragged Hiccup to his. "Not now, Hiccup. Do your job."

=O=

Northeastern India

The Soviet Major and his missileers cheered wildly as the Indian Prime Minister finished his rousing speech on the radio. Amidst rounds of vodka, he went over to shake the hands and kiss the cheeks of his newly-trained Indian technicians and security troops, without whom this heroic undertaking would have been impossible.

Over two hundred strategic missiles – he had not been told how many – had been transported from the heart of the Soviet Union to dispersal complexes across the length and breadth of India, along with the necessary air defenses and support bases, in what amounted to complete secrecy.

He brimmed with pride at the great achievement, some small part of which, he knew in his heart, was his own. This would be a story to tell the grandkids - the happiest day of his military career.

His thoughts turned to his wife. In a few months he would be going home, and other officers rotated to watch over the missiles even as Indian technicians increasingly replaced Soviet ones.

With the unassailable might of their fraternal socialist ally, the Soviet Union, firmly and indisputably entrenched on their soil, nobody would ever bully India again.

=O=

Arvid Hofferson turned off the TV. "Well, that was… odd." He turned to his neighbors, and frowned, puzzled. "Where's Mr. Chan?"

Mr. Qin shrugged. "Probably went off to the supermarket to stock up on food. I'm… also heading there, once I get my car keys." He ran off.

Ingrid came down the stairs, fear in her eyes, and gave him a big hug. "I'm going off to the supermarket to buy a few things." She whispered. "S.O.P. for this sort of thing."

Arvid nodded. "You survived four years of war. This crisis'll blow over in a few days, two weeks tops. We'll be fine."

Ingrid hugged him tighter. "I… don't want our little girl to go!"

Arvid nodded sagely as the screech of tires and panicked motorists filled the suburb. "Astrid's going to be fine. Believe me. Believe in her."

=O=

Author's note, 9/3/2020:

I posted Ch 7, where I established Astrid's hometown to have been Wuhan, sometime around Christmas, at around the same time a small cluster of unusual viral pneumonias were noticed by medical professionals in that most unfortunate city. After a week to tally up the numbers, nail down the details, convince everyone that they weren't just jumpy in the middle of flu season, and write and proofread the papers, detailed reports were submitted to the WHO and the news trickled onto the airwaves. It took scientists worldwide two more weeks to figure out that human beings could spread the disease, and about as much time to isolate and sequence the virus responsible and get test kits in the pipeline. One week after that, on 23/1, with a thousand known cases in Wuhan, the Chinese quarantined the city in the middle of a major holiday, buying the world four precious weeks of prep time at great human and economic cost.

I wrote Ch. 7 in early December, long before COVID-19 was ever on anyone's radar.

I picked Wuhan for Blackbird for the same reasons the outbreak spread so rapidly in January: Wuhan is a major industrial center, a city (now) of twelve million, and a major transport hub. Major road and rail connections linking northern, southern, and western China run through the city, which also dominates the lower reaches of the Yangtze river (think St. Louis). For those same reasons, in Real History, Wuhan was briefly made temporary capital of the Republic of China during WWII before it was overrun by the Japanese in a prolonged campaign. The Japanese capture of the strategically-located city was devastating to the Chinese war effort (in war, capturing crossroads, rail links, highways, transport hubs, etc, etc, is very important if you want to win).

But it was pure coincidence otherwise.

I plotted out the panic buying months ago (this happens a lot in civil defense films); it is also pure coincidence that I have reached this point in my story now, as COVID-19 begins hitting the United States. Don't panic, cook food thoroughly, wash hands frequently*, DON'T TOUCH YOUR FACE, NOSE OR MOUTH (really hard, I know), avoid crowded gatherings if possible, avoid overseas vacations, and follow instructions. Exercise best judgement, but it is probable that supply chains will be fine for the medium-term, and stores will be overflowing with essentials in no time.

(*Wash hands well, with soap: 7 steps: palms, interlace fingers, back of hand, back of fingers, thumb, fingernails/tips - rub them against your palm, and finally wrists. Lather then repeat under running water. When using a mask, DON'T touch the outside - that's contaminated - and make sure you cover the bridge of your nose with the deformable metal bar)