Radio silence

Reiwa 2 April 1

Minato Takahashi did not think his day could get any worse. He had spent much of the afternoon arguing for a further expansion of the country's daily PCR testing capacity from fifty thousand to seventy thousand, to the skepticism of several cabinet ministers. He knew they would come around eventually, just as they had when he had first suggested Japan also adopt a mass testing strategy, instead of relying solely on the cluster-based approach which prescribed that daily PCR testing figures of less than ten thousand were sufficient.

With barely any breaks in-between, the prime minister was then being briefed on the latest development of the COVID-19 in the Kansai region when suddenly a bright light had seeped in through the windows. This would not have been so strange had it actually been in the middle of a day, instead of the darkening dusk of this time of day. Besides, most of this Wednesday had been fairly cloudy, with the occasional light downpouring, not allowing much sunlight to slip through. The light that had just then shone through the windows was only associated with the clearest of a blue sky on a summer midday.

Aides and other staff had jumped and exclaimed in surprise, before the light from outside just as suddenly dimmed back to what it had been half a minute ago. The various staff in the Kantei had scrambled to make sense of the event, doing their best to gather whatever information was available from the various ministries and local governments, while the prime minister had sat befuddled on a chair, although maintaining an outwardly stoic appearance. Then a stream of unnerving reports had followed. The JSDF had lost access to the GPS. The NHK and other media outlets had lost access to satellite data necessary for their weather forecasting. An increasing number of staff in the cabinet reported they had lost access to significant parts of the internet, and internet providers in Tokyo chimed in, saying they had basically lost access to all internet hosts outside Japan. As far as they knew, their ISPs could no longer connect to the rest of the world.

Panicked reports from NTT Docomo, Softbank, and other mobile phone operators indicated that their services had been greatly disrupted and that international access had been lost. TV networks reported much of the same. It became hard for Minato to keep up and he began deferring "nonessential" reports to his aides.

And then came perhaps the most disquieting news: the major international airports of Haneda, Narita, Kansai and others reported that the few international arrivals that still flew to Japan, as the COVID-19 pandemic had significantly reduced air traffic, had disappeared on their way to the island country. Only airliners belonging to Japanese airlines remained in the sky. The Civilian Aviation Bureau had immediately ordered all aircraft in the country to be grounded, and those that had already taken off to immediately turn back to Japan.

And so a crisis meeting had been spontaneously conveyed, approximately one hour after that abnormal light had first occurred. Sitting in a room of minimalist decor made of light-colored wood, the ceiling covered in two long strips of glass where the lights were installed, the meeting began immediately.

A staff member sitting next to the Minister of Defense Kichiro Nakano began reading from a report: "The Defense Intelligence Headquarters can confirm that Japan as of 8.26 p.m. has lost communications with the rest of the world, and the loss of communication likely covers all electronic areas. Moreover, the Civil Aviation Bureau-" he gave a short nod to the Minister of Land, Infrastructure, Transport and Tourism, "reported about twenty minutes ago that they, as well as Japan's major international airports, have lost contact with several airliners that were or are due to arrive in this country. The JSDF is preparing to dispatch several reconnaissance aircraft to the last known locations of the missing airliners in order to locate the missing civilian aircraft, and guide them to our international airports should that be necessary.

We have been trying to establish contact with the U.S. military in Guam and the contiguous United States through special military channels, and will provide further reports once the outcome of such attempts has been established. Our ministry is also holding an emergency meeting with the U.S. Forces in Japan at this very moment.

At this time we have not fully determined the cause or causes behind Japan's loss of communication with the rest of the world. We are awaiting further details as well as a preliminary assessment on hypothetical causes-"

"Was it a nuclear attack?!" one of the persons sitting close to the Minister for Foreign Affairs Hideaki Shinoda cut in. An eerie quiet filled the room for a few seconds.

Nakano hesitated before offering: "We can neither confirm nor deny the veracity of that statement."

That set off an explosion of questions and exclamations from many of the people at the meeting.

"Was that light a nuclear explosion?!"

"...North Korea? Or was it Russia?"

"What's the radioactivity?!"

"Radioactivity readings are as usual, at about 0.035 microsieverts per hour here in Tokyo," answered Nakano. "We haven't yet gotten data from all cities in the last hour, but the ones that have reported appear to have normal readings."

"Maybe it was a nuclear attack in space?" someone asked. "I heard those have quite an electromagnetic effect, disrupting electronics and all, and they could have wiped out all the satellites."

Nakano frowned. "Our Quasi-Zenith Satellite System appears to be intact. In fact, we are still receiving signals from most of our geostationary satellites, while we have yet to receive any signals from any non-Japanese satellites and other non-Japanese geosynchronous orbits. Also, much of Japan's telecommunications with other countries is carried through submarine communications cables… It is unclear how a high-altitude nuclear explosion could have for instance cut off our ISPs from the rest of the world while having no apparent effect on our power grids and other electronics. In any case, we are awaiting further data and have not yet finished our preliminary assessment."

Grappling with a serious lack of information and with no overarching protocol for how the meeting was to be further conducted, the conference devolved into several discussions involving different groups. Minato chose to listen in on the various conversations (which often involved people talking past each other).

"How's the situation with the stock market?" asked someone in the meeting.

"The Nikkei 225 Futures have fallen by over thirty percent, and is quickly approaching forty," stated someone near the Minister of Finance, and several people gaped. "While part of the fall is due to the rapid spread of the coronavirus in Osaka, the slide was only three percent before the loss of communication… For obvious reasons, we don't have access to data from markets outside Japan."

The Minister of Finance Satoshi Yamada chose then to remark: "We have been considering whether it be best to temporarily halt trading as the markets open tomorrow. What do you think, Minato-san? Just so I know what to say to the press outside this room later. I imagine they have a lot of questions."

Minato massaged his head against the coming headache as he imagined the coming torture that was the press conference. "Do what you think is best."