Ella`s Story
My Love From The Future
BOOK FOUR

Chapter 7 : Science Fair Project

Episode 40 : January 17 2021 Monday 10th grade10

Copyright © 2019-2025 Gary Brandt. All rights reserved.

Mr. Danvers looked up from his evening newspaper, his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose as he studied his daughter`s earnest expression.

The living room felt unusually charged with anticipation, all four girls clustered around his recliner with barely contained excitement. "Really?" he asked, setting down the paper with deliberate slowness.

"Or `for real,` as you girls would say?" "Yes, Dad," Eileen assured him, her voice carrying that particular tone she used when she was trying to sound more adult than her fifteen years.

"We`re all helping Ella with a science fair project, and we want input from your UFO group." Mr. Danvers raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching with suppressed amusement.

His involvement with the local UFO enthusiasts group had always been a source of gentle family teasing.

"So what kind of project would need input from a UFO group? Are you building a flying saucer?" "No, something different," Ella said, stepping forward with the confidence that had marked her as a natural leader since childhood.

"Melanie calls it a dystopian post-apocalyptic survival plan.

Imagine if you were trying to preserve our technological culture—rebuild it after a catastrophe like a comet impact, a solar micronova, nuclear war, or volcanic winter.

What would we need to survive? We need a credible plan, and we can build a few simple items for the display to show how it might all work." The amusement faded from Mr. Danvers` face, replaced by something more serious.

He leaned back in his chair, studying the girls with new attention.

"That`s a big project, and if it really happened, it would take the cooperation of the entire planet to pull off.

We`ve all assumed that if such a catastrophe occurred again—as it has in the past—the few human survivors hiding in caves would have to relearn how to make fire, reinvent the wheel, and start over from scratch.

Who put this idea in your head? The Navy?" "The Navy is interested," Roxana said carefully, "but we have to figure out how to do it." "That`s ridiculous," Mr. Danvers said, his voice taking on an edge.

"Can`t the Navy hire a bunch of experts and put together a plan? And why is this a Navy project and not something being done by Congress, or governments all over the world?" "Sure, the Navy could hire experts," Ella replied, her jaw setting in a way her father recognized as pure stubbornness.

"Other governments too, like the United Nations.

But they won`t.

They spend all their time fighting stupid political battles over budgets and funding and a bunch of other nonsense.

Our government hasn`t even invested the money to shield the power grid from a big coronal mass ejection, which could happen any day now.

So it`s up to us kids to figure it all out.

It`s our future too." Helena, who had been quietly observing the exchange, spoke up with an odd certainty in her voice.

"In my view of history—our future—we did figure it all out.

But that future is in flux and isn`t guaranteed to actually happen.

We`ll have to fight to make that future happen again, for the first time." Mr. Danvers blinked, caught off guard by the strange phrasing.

"Okay, but why a science fair project? Can`t the Navy fund you a secret project to get it all done?" "They could, but they won`t," Eileen said.

"A lot of this is classified—we can`t tell people we`re working with...

unusual consultants.

But we need public support.

We need to inject these ideas into the public consciousness.

High school kids with a science fair project might start that process without revealing any of the weird stuff." After a long moment, Mr. Danvers nodded slowly.

"Okay.

I`ll set up a meeting for Thursday night." "Don`t forget the pizza!" Roxana called out as the girls headed upstairs, leaving their father staring thoughtfully at his forgotten newspaper. Too Much Information Thursday evening arrived with the scent of pepperoni and the low hum of serious conversation.

Mr. Danvers` basement had been transformed into an impromptu conference room, folding chairs arranged in a circle around a card table laden with pizza boxes and soda cans.

The members of the local UFO research group—an eclectic mix of engineers, teachers, and curious retirees—settled in with the comfortable familiarity of people who`d spent years discussing the improbable together. "Okay, Bill," Mr. Danvers said, addressing a stocky man with calloused hands and intelligent eyes.

"You`re our industrial engineer.

This sounds like it`s right up your alley." Bill nodded, already leaning forward with interest.

"Yeah, this is something I`ve given some thought to.

Maybe we should record these meetings and self-publish a book.

The book could be part of the science fair project." He paused, running a hand through his graying hair.

"I don`t have all the answers—it would take years to figure all that out.

But I do have ideas that could serve as a starting point.

First, it would depend on the type of catastrophe.

Some happen in a flash, like a CME or an EMP, and they`re over in a day or so.

Other types, like nuclear winter from a war, or a comet impact, or a major volcanic eruption, can last for years.

Worst case scenario: what if more than one happens at the same time? A big asteroid impact can trigger thousands of volcanoes." The room fell silent except for the soft scratch of Ella taking notes. "So, assuming the worst," Bill continued, "those who survive will have to do so underground.

There will need to be underground sites—caves, tunnels, places like that.

There will have to be food and water and medicine and other necessary provisions to support a small number of survivors for maybe three years.

That`s a big job." Ella looked up from her notebook.

"We have two thousand cave and tunnel sites picked out around the world, but they`re classified." The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. "Be careful what you say," Mr. Danvers warned quietly. "Classified sites?" Bill asked, his engineer`s mind clearly racing. "My girls are part of a special ROTC program with the Navy," Mr. Danvers explained, his voice carrying a new weight.

"They`re privy to some information they`re not supposed to discuss.

So please, if they say too much, don`t let that information leave this room.

I don`t want them getting in trouble." "Okay," Bill said slowly.

"Let`s all consider that we have a verbal NDA on this.

I already have plenty of those at work." He paused, calculating.

"Two thousand sites? Let`s say each site has provisions for five hundred people.

That means there would be a million survivors." Maria, a retired biology teacher, leaned forward with a troubled expression.

"Then do the rest of the eight billion people on the planet perish? If 99.99% of humanity is wiped out, what`s the point? It`s unlikely those few humans would be sufficient to repopulate.

Humanity would die out anyway." "You guys don`t know me well," Helena said, her voice taking on that strange, distant quality it sometimes carried, "but I have psychic dreams.

I see things in the future—probable things.

I`ve given this some thought, and if the one million survivors are all trained survival experts, then as soon as possible they`ll exit the shelters and locate the pockets of those who survived on the surface.

There will be many of those.

They`ll bring the resources and technology needed to sustain them.

You`re still looking at more than a 95% depopulation of all species, including humans, but it`s better than extinction." "Aren`t there already a bunch of books and movies about that?" Maria asked. "Yes, there are," Roxana replied.

"And they`re quite imaginative and entertaining.

But the reality is that if the catastrophe depicted in these movies really happened, probably no one would survive.

With our COC—which stands for Continuity of Culture—we think we can save five hundred million people.

With our technology banks, we believe we can recreate our technological civilization in about fifty years." "Okay, more things to forget," Mr. Danvers muttered.

"Forget you heard anything about the COC program." "Whoa! Let`s back up a bit," Bill said, his voice tight with growing alarm.

"There`s a lot more going on here, isn`t there? Secret government projects? Psychics? Young kids tasked with saving the world? I`m starting to get scared." "Damn it!" Ella exclaimed, her teenage composure cracking.

"I was afraid of this.

Commander Beaker is going to be furious.

We need to get you guys debriefed and signed onto a national security oath.

Then we can formally read you into the project.

Those of you who are scared—well, you need to leave and forget this meeting ever happened." Waiting For This My Whole Life Maria stood up abruptly, her chair scraping against the concrete floor.

For a moment, everyone held their breath, expecting her to head for the stairs.

Instead, she moved closer to the table, her eyes bright with determination. "It`s too late for that.

I`m not going anywhere," she declared.

"I`ve been waiting for this my whole life.

Sign me up." "I`m in too," Bill said firmly.

Around the room, heads nodded in unanimous agreement. Back at the Office The Navy recruitment office in downtown had never hosted a meeting quite like this one.

Commander Beaker, a woman whose bearing suggested she`d earned her rank through competence rather than connections, stood at attention behind a government-issue desk.

Her dark hair was pulled back in a regulation bun, but her eyes held the sharp intelligence of someone accustomed to thinking several moves ahead. "Let me introduce myself," she began, her voice carrying the crisp authority of military training.

"I`m Navy Commander Beaker, and I`m in charge of the special ROTC program that these girls are part of.

My students have put me in a difficult position, but your background checks came back clean, so we lucked out this time.

Your NDAs are ready to sign.

Remember that these NDAs have national security implications.

Sign them, have Melanie notarize them, and we can begin our briefing." The scratch of pens on paper was the only sound as the UFO group members committed themselves to secrets they didn`t yet understand. "For many years, we`ve feared that the world is headed toward another great global conflict," Commander Beaker continued once the documents were secured.

"This time, with many world powers possessing weapons of mass destruction—some with Extinction Level Event potential—this could be the end of everything.

Archaeology and cosmology have confirmed that this planet has experienced many mass extinction events in the past, and statistically, we`re due for another one.

There`s a confluence of Earth cycles and cosmic cycles coming together all at the same time.

This time could be much worse than the last." She began pacing, her hands clasped behind her back.

"Our government has, since World War II, maintained a program called COG—Continuity of Government—designed to protect key government officials in case of a decapitation nuclear strike.

They`ve built extensive underground sites, tunnels, bunkers, and entire cities to hide the governing elite in the event of such a war.

The program has evolved beyond just nuclear war to include planetary or cosmic events such as supervolcanoes, asteroid impacts, and even extraterrestrial conflicts." Bill raised his hand slightly.

"What kind of extraterrestrial conflicts?" Commander Beaker`s expression didn`t change.

"The kind we`re not discussing today.

Moving on." She stopped pacing and faced the group directly.

"There are significant problems with COG.

It`s only for the governing elite and their friends.

Everyone else is left on the surface, on their own, to endure whatever cataclysm may occur.

The elite might emerge from their bunkers with nothing left to govern, and frankly, that`s fine with them.

They`ll try to repopulate the Earth by themselves.

If the surface infrastructure that supports our technological civilization is destroyed, then these elite will have to start over—basically as cave dwellers hunting whatever edible animals and plants might remain." The weight of her words settled over the room like a heavy blanket. "Although COG site locations are top secret, our potential adversaries know exactly where they are.

That makes the COG sites strategic targets during a conflict.

The USA and our adversaries have developed space-based hypersonic kinetic weapons that can penetrate these underground cities, as well as nuclear plasma drills that can reach them." "It is our opinion—those of us in the Navy who worry about these things—that there needs to be another program, a bigger program.

We call it COC: Continuity of Culture.

Archaeological sites such as Göbekli Tepe show that there were advanced human cultures before the last great cataclysm.

We know nothing about them because their culture didn`t survive, even though there`s evidence they saw the cataclysm coming.

We want to survive the next event.

We want our technological culture to survive so we don`t have to start over as cave dwellers wearing animal skins." She resumed pacing, her frustration becoming evident.

"Unfortunately, Navy brass is so bound up with political infighting that getting funding for our plans has been nearly impossible.

Many feel it isn`t today`s problem, and others dismiss the entire concept of catastrophism.

So we have to be creative to get this program funded, and to do that, we have to keep it secret while simultaneously building public support.

That`s why we got these high school students involved.

They were only in middle school when we started." Commander Beaker gestured toward the four girls.

"We`re working with hundreds of young people across the nation, but these girls score much higher than the rest.

These girls are a true phenomenon." "Our plan is to train groups of young influencers who, as they mature over the next twenty to thirty years, will attract followers who share their goals.

Hopefully millions of followers who will create the critical mass to force government and industry to invest in our program.

We estimate we have about thirty years to get it done, so these young people will be in their prime during that crucial period.

If our estimate is wrong and a cataclysm happens tomorrow—well, at least we tried.

Our hope is that the universe, or God, will grant us the time to make it happen." She smiled for the first time since the meeting began.

"A high school science fair project may seem trivial, but it`s a start—a way to introduce the concept of survival into the public consciousness.

Our girls came up with this idea on their own, which is an indication of their brilliance.

We`re very proud of them.

They also decided to bring you aboard as consultants and mentors entirely on their own initiative.

That`s another stroke of genius.

I just wish they`d talked to me about it first.

We`re glad to have you aboard, and now I`ll give them the floor to answer any questions." Rogue Program Bill cleared his throat, his engineer`s mind cutting straight to the procedural heart of the matter.

"One question before you leave the podium, Commander.

The Navy isn`t an agency that creates its own projects.

It`s under civilian control, reporting to the President.

Isn`t this program essentially rogue? Do you really have the authority to engage in a secret program like this?" Commander Beaker`s smile turned rueful.

"Guilty as charged.

But you must already know that there are thousands of secret, sometimes extra-constitutional projects in the Navy, Air Force, and dozens of other government agencies.

It`s how things work, but it`s also a difficult political process to make it all happen without getting shut down by some other extra-constitutional project that wants to steal your funding.

It`s ugly, but we believe saving our culture for our children and their future is worth doing it this way." A Million Questions "Okay, I`ll start," Bill said, pulling out a small notebook.

"I have a million questions.

Girls, you must consider this if you want technology to survive: after a major catastrophe, nothing technical will work.

There will be no power in the electrical grid.

There will be no refineries producing fuel, so cars and boats and farm tractors won`t work.

All factories, all food processing plants, all cell phone towers, the internet—none of it will function, and it will take decades to rebuild that infrastructure." He leaned forward, his voice taking on the intensity of someone who`d spent years thinking about systems and how they failed.

"When you come out of your shelters, everything you do will have to be done by hand, with the simplest of tools.

So one of the first things to research is the technology of developing nations.

They don`t have huge steel plants, but with the right information, they can build a one-person steel furnace and produce small amounts of metal.

From those small amounts, they can form basic tools—a hoe, a spade, a machete, a knife, a hammer, and with a little ingenuity, maybe a pair of pliers.

This low-level technology is being used all over the world right now.

Learn it." Maria nodded enthusiastically.

"And don`t forget the animals.

Horses and oxen built our civilization and will have to do it again.

There`s no point in building a cart if there`s no horse to pull it.

Plan to save the beasts of burden, and don`t forget the food animals—cattle, goats, chickens.

Food animals can eat grass and vegetation that we cannot, even dead grass.

Plan for some of your tunnels to store bales of hay." "You might think it wise to stockpile generators to restore electricity," Bill continued, "and it is a good idea, but you also need a sustainable way to power them.

So you have to have a plan to make fuel.

If there`s a nuclear or volcanic winter, growing biofuel crops to make alcohol won`t work because nothing will grow in the dark.

Solar panels won`t work either.

But if you know how to ferment existing dying biomass, you can make fuel from that.

Without solar heating, there may be little wind for turbines and little flowing water for hydroelectric power.

You`ll have to be very creative." He flipped a page in his notebook, his excitement growing.

"Although it`s important to stockpile finished products—generators, computers, and the like—you have to understand that you won`t have the tools to make more of them for many years, decades even.

So the most important part of saving technology is preserving the tools that make the technology.

And then preserve the tools that make those tools, and so forth, all the way down to the simplest tools that make screws and nails, hammers and screwdrivers.

You`re going to have to rebuild technology from the bottom up." "None of that was actually a question," Ella said with a grin, "but it`s wonderful information.

One reason we want to do this as a science fair project is that it will get expert reviews.

They`ll probably tell us we`re doing it all wrong and provide alternatives.

That way we`ll learn more, for free.

We should also attract other students, and maybe some of the experts, who`ll get excited about our project and want to help out." "I think we`re off to a great start," Mr. Danvers said.

"We have eight weeks to get the book published and the display set up.

And then we have thirty years to make it all real.

Let`s plan to meet here three times a week.

We`ll divide up the tasks and create the most fantastic science fair project ever." What About Me? Later that evening, in Melanie`s office—a converted bedroom that served as both legal workspace and informal counseling center—Roxana sat slumped in a chair, staring at the geometric pattern of the area rug. "What`s troubling you?" Melanie asked gently, setting aside the legal briefs she`d been reviewing. Roxana continued staring at the floor.

"I`m feeling left out.

Ella has all these technical skills, and Eileen has a political mind.

Helena can see the future, sort of.

But me? What good am I? I`m no good at that stuff." Melanie smiled, the expression transforming her usually serious face.

"I think you may be the most important of all.

Your family is very religious, very Catholic.

I`ve watched you struggle with adapting your faith to the strange reality you and your sisters are living." "But what does religion have to do with any of this?" Roxana looked up, confusion evident in her dark eyes.

"What good is faith for building a technology bank?" No One Is Coming to Save Us "The most important thing for getting people involved in our project is motivation," Melanie explained, leaning back in her chair.

"So many religions, including Christianity, are built around waiting for a savior to come and make everything better.

There are also many people who subscribe to UFO religions, waiting for extraterrestrials to save us.

If there`s a looming global catastrophe and no one is coming to save us, there will be a tremendous crisis of faith.

That will kill motivation, and many will die who otherwise could have saved themselves." She leaned forward, her voice becoming more intense.

"Someone with your experience could be instrumental in building motivation.

You can teach them that a savior is coming, eventually—just not this time.

This time it`s up to us to show that we can rise to the occasion and fix things ourselves.

It`s our job to clean up our own mess." "I don`t know if that`s even possible," Roxana said, doubt heavy in her voice.

"Religious people would rather die with their beliefs than change them." "You underestimate yourself, Roxana," Melanie said firmly.

"I`ve already seen you do the impossible.

I put my faith in you."

The ink was slightly smeared where a tear had fallen on the page.

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NEXT >> Chapter 41
Lady Wisdom

Roxana receives a vivid dream vision from three ethereal beings claiming to be Wisdom, Prudence, and Knowledge, who tell her she has been chosen for a difficult task and will be able to call upon them for help. The vision deeply troubles Roxana because it conflicts with her Catholic beliefs about divine beings, leading to discussions with her friends and a government psychologist about the challenges of reconciling different religious belief systems without compromising one's core faith.

<< PREVIOUS Chapter 39
39

Ella experiences a vivid dream where mysterious entities called `The Visitors` download information directly into her mind, showing her coordinates of future vault locations around the world, some with massive doors built into mountainsides. When she shares this experience with Navy Commander Beaker and Melanie, they realize she may have received intelligence about which government continuity sites will survive an upcoming conflict and which will be destroyed, suggesting she's being prepared for a massive future project to preserve human culture and technology.

FIRST Chapter 0 Sleep Over

Thirteen-year-old Ella and her best friends Eileen and Roxana encounter an interdimensional being named Helana during a sleepover, who appears as different benevolent figures to each girl and reveals glimpses of their legendary futures. When Helana tries to leave after accidentally revealing herself and disrupting their timelines, Ella cleverly traps the entity by claiming authority over her domain, forcing Helana to stay as their `genie in a bottle` despite her pleas to return home.