Day Zero
Los Angeles, California
Friday, January 1, 2027
"How bad is it, Tom, really?" asked Governor Sax, staring at the mangled piping and collapsed walls of the plant.
Tom, the desalination plant’s chief engineer, couldn't look the governor in the eye. The answer to his question was too unsettling. "With this damage, we won't be able to produce fresh water at any meaningful capacity for at least another eight months, sir."
"Eight months?" sighed Sax, putting his hands on his hips. He looked sternly over at the engineer, "Tom, I can't accept that kind of an answer. The people of Los Angeles cannot accept that kind of answer."
Ethan Samberg, the city manager, stepped forward. "Without this plant the city could see day zero at the latest by August," he said gravely.
"And at the earliest?" asked the governor.
"June, sir," Samberg said solemnly. "We could see a few winter storms add to the Sierra snowpack but the weather folks aren't too confident. This drought has been one for the ages."
"Tom, what do you need to get this facility back up and running as soon as possible?" Sax earnestly asked. "If day zero occurs in June the city could be without water for two months."
"I'd need double the amount of workers I currently have and triple the amount of money. We'll work around the clock until repairs are finished but the fire was quite thorough in its destruction, I'm afraid."
"I'm declaring a state of emergency for Los Angeles County; that should bring in the cash from the feds to help with rebuilding. Any causes?"
Tom shook his head. "My best guess, sir, sabotage."
"Jesus," said the governor, rubbing his balding head.
"Probably as an act of protest since we raised rates two months ago to help pay for the second desal plant down the coast. The project is over budget."
"When is the second plant going to be ready?" asked the city manager.
"Not for another year," said Tom sadly.
"I'm not letting this city run out of water," proclaimed the governor, loosening his tie in the sweltering heat. "We won't become the next Cape Town, Baghdad, or Tucson."
"May I suggest activating the National Guard then, sir," one of his aids interjected. "We could have them bring in water trucks to help alleviate some of the stress we'll be under."
"New water restrictions, the strongest probably ever, will have to be put into place as well," advised Tom. "People will hate it."
"They will hate it," Sax said, almost indifferently, "but they'll live and this city will survive."
"We're running on a tight rope here," said Samberg. "We can't afford anything unexpected. Any miscalculations in our capacity and output could cost us weeks in available water supplies. We're dealing with over 12 million people here."
"What about UNIRO?" Tom proposed.
"What about it?" Governor Sax replied. "They aren't scheduled to open for another six months. They are of no help to us now."
"Yeah… Now," Tom emphasized.
Sax looked up at the damaged plant. "Hmm," he smirked. "I'm going to make some calls – appeal to the federal government to get them here once they do open."
"What if the feds don't except the appeal?" asked Tom. "Or the Security Council for that matter? There is always a chance that a rescue mission doesn't secure a vote."
Sax laughed. "Then I'll call the Security Council myself. We're Californians, Tom. Paris. Fuel efficiency standards. Air pollution. Plastic bags. We've gone it alone before. Why should this be any different?"