"Damned if I know," Dennis said. "Only one thing I could think of."

At her look, he swallowed and went on: "Well, an EMP could take out all the electrical stuff, or most of it, I think- but that would take a fusion bomb going off."

Juniper gave an appalled hiss. Who could be nuking Oregon, of all places? Last time she looked the world had been profoundly at peace, at least as far as big countries with missiles went.

"But I don't think that's it. That white flash, I don't think it was really light-it didn't come from anywhere, you know? Suzie at the bar, she was looking out at the street, and I was halfway into the kitchen, and we both saw pretty much the same thing."

That's right, Eilir signed. It wasn't a flash, really. Everything just went white and my head hurt, and I was over by that workbench with my back to the window.

"Well, what was it, then?" her mother said.

"I don't have fucking clue one about what it was," Dennis said. "But I've got this horrible feeling about what whatever-it-was did."

He swallowed and hesitated. "I think it turned the juice off. The electricity. Nothing electrical is working. That for starters."

Dennis shuddered; she'd never seen an adult do that before, but she sympathized right now. A beefy arm waved out the window.

"Think about it. No cars-spark plugs and batteries. No lights, no computers, nothing. And that means no water pressure in the mains pretty soon, and no sewers, and-"

"Mother-of-All," Juniper blurted. "The whole town could burn down! And those poor people on the 747-"

She imagined what it must have been like at thirty thousand feet, and then her mind recoiled from it back to the here and now.

And Rudy was flying out of Eugene tonight, she thought, appalled. If the same thing happened there-

"We have to do something," she said, pushing aside the thought, and led them clattering down the stairs again.