Marcus Chen stared at his laptop screen, his coffee growing cold beside him. The headline blazed across every news site simultaneously, each one screaming the same impossible message in bold, urgent letters: **ROGUE PLANET FRAGMENT ON COLLISION COURSE - IMPACT IN 47 DAYS**.
His hands trembled as he reached for the mouse, clicking through tab after tab. CNN. BBC. Al Jazeera. Reuters. Every major news outlet was reporting the same thing. This wasn't some elaborate hoax or coordinated misinformation campaign. This was real.
Marcus leaned back in his ergonomic office chair, the leather creaking under his weight, and tried to process what he was reading. He was thirty-two years old, a senior software engineer at a mid-sized tech company, living alone in the modest two-story house his parents had left him after their deaths three years ago. His life was comfortable, predictable, safe. He went to work, wrote code, came home, played video games, repeated the cycle. The most exciting thing that had happened to him in the past year was finally paying off his mortgage.
Now the world was ending.
He clicked on the NASA press release, his engineer's mind seeking the technical details that would either confirm or deny the horrifying reports. The document was surprisingly detailed for something released in such an emergency. Object Sigma-7, as they were calling it, had been detected seventy-two hours ago by the James Webb Space Telescope during a routine deep space survey. Initial trajectory calculations had suggested a near miss - close enough to be spectacular but harmless. But as more observatories around the world had refined the data, adding their observations to the computational models, the truth had become unavoidable.
The fragment was approximately 15 kilometers in diameter. For comparison, the asteroid that had killed the dinosaurs sixty-six million years ago was estimated at only ten kilometers. This was bigger. Much bigger.
Composed primarily of iron-nickel alloy with a dense rocky core, Object Sigma-7 was traveling at an incomprehensible 72 kilometers per second - roughly 161,000 miles per hour. It had been accelerated to this velocity by some ancient cosmic collision, sent careening through the void for eons until its trajectory intersected with Earth's orbit at precisely the wrong moment in cosmic history.
The impact energy calculations made Marcus's blood run cold. The Chicxulub impactor had released energy equivalent to roughly ten billion atomic bombs. Object Sigma-7 would release significantly more. The immediate blast radius would vaporize everything within a thousand kilometers of the impact site. Earthquakes measuring 10 or higher on the Richter scale would circle the globe multiple times. Tsunamis hundreds of meters tall would devastate every coastline on the planet.
But those weren't the real threats. Those would kill millions, maybe a billion people. Terrible, but not extinction-level.
The real threat was what came after.
Marcus scrolled down to the section on environmental impact. Billions of tons of pulverized rock, dust, and vaporized ocean water would be thrown into the upper atmosphere. The debris cloud would encircle the entire planet within days. Sunlight would be blocked. Photosynthesis would cease. Plants would die. Herbivores would starve. Carnivores would follow. The entire food chain would collapse.
Global temperatures would plummet. Scientists were predicting a drop of twenty to forty degrees Celsius within the first few months. The oceans would begin to freeze. The few plants that survived the initial darkness would succumb to the cold. Without the sun's heat, without photosynthesis, without any natural source of warmth or food production, the planet would become a frozen tomb.
The scientific consensus, buried in the dry academic language of the report, estimated that this new ice age could last anywhere from five to twenty years. Possibly longer. And during that time, perhaps ninety-five percent of all life on Earth would die.
Marcus sat in silence for a long moment, the only sound the quiet hum of his computer's cooling fan. His mind, trained by years of software engineering to break down complex problems into manageable components, began to work almost automatically.
Problem: Survive a global extinction-level event.
Constraints:
- Time available for preparation: 47 days
- Financial resources: approximately $250,000 (savings, investments, home equity)
- Skills: software engineering, basic construction knowledge, general problem-solving
- Location: suburban residential area, moderate population density
- Unknown variables: exact impact location, actual duration of ice age, survival of infrastructure
Objective: Maximize probability of survival for extended period (5-20 years) while maintaining acceptable quality of life.
He opened a new document and began typing, his fingers moving rapidly across the keyboard as years of project management experience kicked in. Break down the problem. Identify critical paths. Assign resources. Create contingencies.
SURVIVAL PROTOCOL - VERSION 1.0
Phase 1: Information Gathering and Planning (Days 1-2)
Primary objectives:
- Monitor all government responses and recommendations
- Research historical survival strategies (ice ages, nuclear winter scenarios, isolation survival)
- Calculate minimum viable requirements for long-term survival
-- Oxygen/air requirements per person per day
-- Water requirements (drinking, sanitation, cooking)
-- Caloric requirements and food storage calculations
-- Living space requirements for psychological health
- Identify construction contractors capable of rapid underground excavation
- Liquidate all non-essential assets for immediate capital
- Develop detailed shelter specifications
Phase 2: Shelter Construction (Days 3-35)
Primary objectives:
- Hire experienced construction crew with underground construction experience
- Excavate to minimum 40-foot depth (seismic protection, thermal insulation)
- Construct reinforced concrete structure
-- Walls: minimum 2 feet thick, steel-reinforced
-- Foundation: 3 feet thick
-- Ceiling: reinforced to support soil weight plus potential snow accumulation
- Install primary life support systems
-- Air filtration with manual backup
-- Water storage and recycling systems
-- Waste management (sewage, garbage)
- Install power generation
-- Diesel generators (primary)
-- Battery banks (backup)
-- Solar panels for potential future deployment
- Waterproofing and insulation installation
- Create multiple compartmentalized chambers for organization and safety
Phase 3: Resource Acquisition (Days 3-45)
Primary objectives:
- Stockpile non-perishable food
-- Minimum 5-year supply for projected occupants
-- Variety for nutritional balance and psychological health
-- Include vitamins and nutritional supplements
- Secure water storage
-- Multiple 500-gallon tanks
-- Water purification equipment (filters, chemicals, UV treatment)
- Obtain medical supplies
-- Antibiotics (broad spectrum)
-- Pain medications
-- Surgical supplies
-- Diagnostic equipment
-- Chronic medication supplies for any occupants
- Purchase tools and maintenance equipment
-- General repair tools
-- Specialized equipment (welding, metalworking)
-- Spare parts for all critical systems
-- Raw materials (metal, wood, plastic, electronics components)
- Acquire agricultural supplies
-- Seeds for multiple vegetable varieties
-- Hydroponics equipment
-- Grow lights (LED for efficiency)
-- Nutrients and growing medium
- Gather educational and entertainment materials
-- Technical manuals
-- Educational books
-- Entertainment media (books, movies, games)
-- Exercise equipment
Phase 4: Final Preparations (Days 45-47)
Primary objectives:
- Complete system testing
-- Run all systems continuously for 48 hours
-- Test all backup systems
-- Verify all seals and waterproofing
- Final provisioning
-- Top off all consumables
-- Complete final purchases
-- Secure loose items
- Shelter sealing
-- Install final security measures
-- Create emergency communication protocols
-- Prepare for impact
Marcus stared at his plan. It was comprehensive but probably impossible. Forty-seven days to build a fully-functional underground bunker capable of sustaining life for potentially two decades. The timeline alone was insane. The costs would be astronomical. The logistics were nightmarish.
But what choice did he have?
He glanced at the clock in the corner of his screen: 12:23 AM. He'd been reading and planning for nearly an hour. In forty-seven days, none of this would matter unless he started acting immediately.
His phone sat on the desk beside his laptop. Marcus picked it up and began scrolling through his contacts, looking for Jake Morrison's number.
Jake had been his roommate during their junior year of college. They'd stayed loosely in touch over the years - the occasional beer, catching up every few months, the standard drift of adult friendships. Jake had gone into construction after graduation, working his way up from laborer to foreman to eventually starting his own small contracting company. His specialty was foundation work and underground installations - exactly what Marcus needed.
He found the number and hesitated. It was past midnight. Jake was probably asleep. This call would wake him up, possibly terrify him, definitely confuse him. But time was the one resource Marcus couldn't afford to waste.
He pressed dial.
The phone rang four times before a groggy voice answered. "Marcus? Do you have any idea what time"
"Have you seen the news?" Marcus interrupted.
A pause. Marcus could hear rustling sounds, probably Jake sitting up in bed. "About the asteroid? Yeah. Yeah, I saw it. It's... I don't even know what it is. Terrifying doesn't begin to cover it."
"I need you to build me a shelter. Underground. Deep. Starting tomorrow morning."
The line went silent for so long that Marcus thought the call had dropped. Then Jake laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Jesus, man. You and everyone else on the planet. My phone's been going crazy since the announcement. I've already had twelve calls. Government contracts, corporate bunkers, rich people wanting private shelters... I'm turning down six-figure jobs because we don't have the equipment, the time, or the manpower."
Marcus had expected this. He'd actually planned for it. "I'll pay triple your normal rate. Cash. Half upfront, the rest on completion. And bonuses - five thousand dollars per worker for every day ahead of schedule we finish."
Another long pause. Marcus could practically hear Jake doing the mental math.
"How much are we talking about?" Jake finally asked, his voice more serious now.
Marcus looked at his spreadsheet showing his complete financial situation. Savings: $127,000. Investment accounts: $89,000. The equity in his house: approximately $150,000 if he could somehow sell it instantly, which he couldn't. His parents' life insurance that he'd never touched: $75,000. Other assets: maybe $20,000 if he liquidated everything.
Total available capital: roughly $461,000. He'd need to keep some for supplies, but he could commit a significant portion to construction.
"I can put together three hundred thousand for construction costs. That's cash money, half on start, half on completion, plus the completion bonuses. And I'll need it done in thirty-two days maximum."
Jake sucked in a breath. "That's... Marcus, that's a lot of money. But thirty-two days for what you're talking about? That's impossible. A bunker like that normally takes months."
"Nothing's normal anymore," Marcus said quietly. "In forty-seven days, money won't mean anything. The only thing that will matter is whether you're alive or dead. So I'm asking you, as a friend: can you do it?"
He heard Jake take a deep breath, let it out slowly. Marcus imagined him sitting on the edge of his bed, his wife probably awake now too, listening to one side of this surreal conversation.
"Tell me exactly what you need," Jake said.
Relief flooded through Marcus. "I need an underground shelter, minimum forty feet deep. Multiple chambers - living quarters, storage, utilities, workshop, and hydroponics bay. Reinforced concrete construction, waterproofed, insulated. Life support systems including air filtration, water storage and recycling, power generation, and waste management. The whole thing needs to withstand the seismic activity from the impact and maintain livable conditions for at least five years, possibly up to twenty."
Jake whistled low. "That's not a shelter, Marcus. That's a full military-grade bunker. And in thirty-two days... I don't know if I can promise that."
"But you can try?"
"Yeah," Jake said after a moment. "Yeah, I can try. I'll need to call in every favor I have, hire every available crew, work around the clock. It's going to be hell, and there's still a good chance we won't finish in time."
"I'll take that chance. When can you start?"
"Give me six hours to round up equipment and crew. I'll have people at your place by 7 AM. We'll need to start digging immediately."
"Thank you, Jake. I mean it. You might be saving my life."
"Don't thank me yet," Jake replied. "We haven't even started. And Marcus? You need to start stockpiling supplies immediately. Like, right now. Because in another day or two, when the panic really sets in, there won't be anything left to buy."
Marcus glanced at his screen, at the multiple tabs he'd already opened to various online retailers. "Already on it."
After hanging up with Jake, Marcus spent the next four hours in a frenzy of online shopping. Every major retailer was already showing strange patterns - certain items showing as "limited stock" or "delayed shipping." The first wave of panic buying had begun.
He methodically worked through his supply list, placing orders with every retailer he could find. Rice, beans, canned vegetables, canned meat, powdered milk, protein powder, multivitamins, cooking oil. Order quantities in the hundreds of pounds, thousands of cans. When one retailer ran out, he moved to the next. When websites crashed under unexpected traffic loads, he refreshed and tried again.
The costs were already climbing. A 50-pound bag of rice that normally cost $30 was now $75. Canned goods were double their usual price. But Marcus kept clicking "Add to Cart" and "Confirm Purchase." What good was money in the bank if he was dead?
Water filtration systems. Air purification equipment. LED grow lights for the hydroponics. Seeds - vegetable seeds, grain seeds, herb seeds, anything that could potentially be grown underground. Backup batteries. Solar charge controllers. Medical supplies - antibiotics, painkillers, bandages, surgical equipment. Tools - so many tools. Spare parts for everything he could think of.
His credit cards maxed out. He opened new ones, accepting outrageous interest rates that wouldn't matter in forty-seven days. He emptied his savings accounts, moved money from investments, liquidi all the easy-to-convert assets.
Total spent by 4 AM: $127,000.
Total orders placed: 2,437 items from 63 different retailers.
Estimated delivery: most items within 5-7 days, if the delivery infrastructure held together that long.
At 4:17 AM, exhausted and running on pure adrenaline, Marcus made one more call. This one to his sister, Lisa, who lived in Portland with her husband David and their two kids, Emma (10) and Jack (6).
She answered on the second ring, her voice alert. She'd obviously been awake, probably glued to the news like everyone else in the world.
"Marcus," she said immediately. "Oh thank God. I've been trying to call you for the past two hours."
"I know. I'm sorry. I've been... planning."
"Planning for what? Marcus, have you seen the news? The government is setting up shelters, but they're using lottery systems. David checked and we're not even in the first round of selections. They're saying only twenty percent of applicants will get spots and—"
"Stop," Marcus interrupted gently. "Lisa, I need you to listen to me very carefully. Pack everything you can fit in your car. Important documents, photographs, practical items that will help you survive. Nothing sentimental that won't serve a purpose. Bring warm clothes, tools, anything useful. Then get in the car with David and the kids and drive here. Don't tell anyone where you're going."
"Marcus, what are you—"
"I'm building a shelter. Here, under the house. It's not going to be luxurious, but it'll be safe. There's room for six people - you, David, Emma, Jack, and two more. But you need to come now, before the roads become impassable."
Silence on the other end. Marcus could imagine Lisa's face, the way she always looked when she was processing something difficult, her eyebrows drawn together, her lip caught between her teeth.
"Marcus, building a shelter in forty-seven days? Is that even possible?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "But I have to try. And I want my family with me when I do. Will you come?"
Another pause. Then, quietly: "Yes. Yes, we'll come. Let me talk to David. We can pack today and leave by tonight. We'll be there in... thirty-six hours? Maybe less if we drive straight through."
"Thank you. And Lisa? Drive carefully. The roads are going to get crazy."
"I will. Marcus... are we really going to die?"
Marcus looked at his screen, at all the data and calculations and terrible predictions. "Not if I can help it."
After ending the call, Marcus allowed himself exactly fifteen minutes to shower and change clothes. His body was screaming for sleep, but there was no time. In three hours, Jake's crew would arrive and begin tearing up his backyard. In thirty-six hours, his sister and her family would arrive needing food and shelter. In forty-seven days, the world would end.
The clock was ticking.
At 6:00 AM, Marcus stood in his backyard with a fresh cup of coffee, watching the sunrise. It was beautiful - pink and orange spreading across the sky, birds singing their morning songs, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of his neighbor's flowers. A perfect September morning.
In forty-seven days, he might never see the sun again.
At 7:12 AM, three trucks rumbled into his driveway, and the work began.