Little Pink Starfish

“Emergency power has been activated.”
“Emergency internal communication channel has been activated.”
“Emergency defense has been activated.”
“Ventilation system has been activated.”
“Radiation defense windows have been lowered.”
“All departments, please remain in place.”

In the corridor, amid chaotic footsteps and shouting, the broadcast turned on, no longer a mechanical voice, but changed to a human female voice.

As the voice fell, muffled “clang clang” sounds rang out from all directions. An Zhe looked again toward the corridor—the cold steel curtain walls suddenly dropped, blocking all the windows. They looked very thick—he remembered the poet’s words: once the magnetic field disappears, cosmic rays and solar wind would immediately attack the Earth’s surface.

So he understood that just now when Lu Feng pulled him away from the corridor, it was to get him out of the area that might be exposed to cosmic radiation—and the main city, being a building from the peak of human technological civilization, had walls thick and made from special materials that could defend against radiation attacks.

After flickering madly, the lights on the first floor of the United Front Center stabilized and lit up again, but this time the lights were much weaker than before, showing a kind of pale white with no vitality.

From the nearest laboratory came the voice of a researcher dialing communication, very anxious, his voice very loud, so loud the whole corridor could hear.

“D1342 requesting increased power supply! Instruments must not stop operating!”
Another lab voice came through: “D1343 requesting emergency power supply, or the precious sample is about to become non-viable.”

Who would respond to their requests, whether they would be fulfilled, An Zhe didn’t know. He looked toward the direction of D1344, unconsciously grabbing Lu Feng’s sleeve.

Lu Feng looked down at him and said: “It’s okay.”
An Zhe nodded.

The broadcast continued:

“Personnel from Equipment Center, City Defense Office, Emergency Response Department, and Logistics Supply Office, please proceed to the United Front’s 17th floor, first conference room. Do not take the elevator; use the emergency stairway.”

“Lighthouse Magnetic Field Observation Division, please immediately contact United Front Center.”
“Lighthouse Magnetic Field Observation Division, please immediately contact United Front Center.”

The broadcast sounded extremely loud, its echoes reverberating layer after layer in the corridor.

An Zhe looked at Lu Feng: “Are we going back to the Lighthouse?”
“We’re waiting for orders,” Lu Feng looked toward the far side of the corridor bridge, as if thinking about something, then returned his gaze to An Zhe: “Don’t run off, follow me.”
An Zhe said: “Okay.”

Then the broadcast said: “Leaders from the Command Office, Joint Chiefs of Staff, Tribunal, and Combat Center, please proceed to the United Front’s 14th floor Communication Center. Do not take the elevator; use the emergency stairway.”

Once they entered the Communication Center’s first floor, An Zhe immediately heard voices inside.

“North Base calling Underground City Base, do you read?”
“North Base calling Underground City Base, do you read?”
“North Base calling Underground City Base, do you read?”

The communicator wore a large black headset, speaking. In front of him were ten or so display screens, with various curves and parameters jumping.

However, in this communication channel, only he was speaking. The other side only returned hollow electric static noise.

In the center of the hall was a middle-aged man in a black military uniform. His features were stern, his expression severe, the insignia on his shoulder indicated he was a military lieutenant general.

Seeing Lu Feng come in, he gave a slight nod: “You’re here.”

Other military personnel came in right after Lu Feng, with various ranks and from various departments, but all wore equally stern and solemn expressions.

There were chairs in the communication hall. They sat down separately. An Zhe quietly sat next to Lu Feng.

The lieutenant general took a call, hung up after thirty seconds, and said to the officers in the hall: “We contacted the Lighthouse Magnetic Field Observation Division. Five minutes ago, the Earth’s magnetic field strength plummeted to zero. But the eastern magnetic pole we protect did not show any abnormality.”

“Clearly, the western magnetic pole across the sea has suffered a major failure.”

An Zhe listened to the general’s words. He understood the significance of magnetic poles to humanity.

The magnetic field protects everything on Earth. Once lost, cosmic rays and solar winds would rush in. In the short term, it would cause widespread drought and exposure of humans to radiation, leading to malignant diseases, then death or mutation. If the magnetic field remains absent long-term, the Earth’s atmosphere would be blown away by the solar wind. Then, the world would become a desert of death.

The two man-made magnetic poles—one in North Base and one in the Underground City Base—together maintained a weak global magnetic field. They were inseparable. If one had problems, the other would also fail.

They didn’t even need excess communication. Every night when auroras appeared in the sky, it was a signal to tell the other: “We still exist, still safe.”

Now the aurora had disappeared.

At that moment, a person adjusting the equipment said: “The ionosphere is disturbed. Shortwave communication is not feasible.”

The lieutenant general furrowed his brows. After three seconds of silence, he said: “At all costs, initiate extremely low frequency communication.”

“Yes!”

After humans lost their generation tech, long-distance communication became very difficult, relying only on wireless telegraphs—shortwave communication using signals. But artificial magnetic fields were weaker than Earth’s original geomagnetism. Communications were already unstable. Now with the ionosphere in total disarray, communication became even more difficult.

Extremely low frequency (ELF) communication was different. It transmitted through the Earth and seawater as a medium—stable and reliable—but costly to activate, and only the oldest Morse code could be used to convey messages.

At the same time, it was one-way. Meaning unless the other side was also listening, no reply could be made.

Messages were passed layer by layer. Finally, the communication center received a response: ELF transmitter had been activated.

The telegraph operator picked up the device. Tones of different lengths were input into the system, one by one.

“North Base calling Underground City Base, do you read?”

Long silence.

“Underground City Base is the most well-developed among the four human bases. Hard to imagine it facing disaster,” a military officer said. “Hopefully, it’s just equipment malfunction.”

Just as he finished speaking, a sharp static noise suddenly came from the receiver!

Crackling, hissing, chaotic like it came from the boundless universe, or like the dying breath of a giant beast.

Everyone in the room held their breath—until twenty seconds passed.

“Beep.”
“Beep beep.”
“Beep, beep—”

Telegraph signals rang out. The telegraph operator’s whole body trembled, almost throwing himself onto the worktable, quickly recording.

Five minutes later, the lieutenant general asked: “What did they say?”

The telegraph operator’s face was pale, lips trembling. He looked at the sheet recording the signal and said: “They said… Underground City Base… encountered a joint invasion by aberrants, suffered heavy losses. Currently… resisting, currently repairing the magnetic pole.”

“Ammunition reserves less than one-fifth… Thermonuclear weapons depleted, manpower insufficient, requesting…” he bit his lip, said: “Requesting support.”

A long silence.