Panic Switch - Part One

Panic Switch
Special NRC Oversight at Seabrook Nuclear Power Plant: Concrete Degradation
In 2009, NextEra Energy Seabrook, LLC (NextEra) realized that the intrusion of moisture into sections of walls in certain below-grade structures at the Seabrook nuclear power plant, in Seabrook, N.H., could cause the degradation of some of the concrete. The NRC and NextEra confirmed in 2010 that the degradation at Seabrook is caused by alkali silica reaction, or ASR. The result of this reaction is a gel, which can expand and cause micro-cracks in the concrete.
Subsequently, NextEra identified that the cumulative effect of ASR-induced micro-cracking has led to larger macro-cracking (bulk expansion) and the displacement of some concrete walls.
- United States Nuclear Regulatory Commission
Earthquake felt at nuclear power plant in New Hampshire
An earthquake felt at the single-unit, 1,295 MWe Seabrook nuclear power plant in New Hampshire led to an unusual event declaration, the U.S. Nuclear Regulatory Commission said.
Workers in the control room said they felt the earthquake around 7:14 p.m. EDT Oct. 16 and confirmed it by calling the dispatch office. A magnitude 4.0 earthquake centered 3 miles west of Hollis Center, Maine occurred around that time. No damages to the plant were discovered during walkdowns.
The plant is currently shut down for a planned refueling outage, and the plant’s seismic monitor is out of service for a scheduled calibration.
The unusual event ended around 1:49 a.m. EDT.
- Power Engineering 10/17/2012
 
I just scored a three-point slider in the Hampton Beach Cornhole invitational tourney when Klaxon barged on to the beach. The skies were a brilliant blue, the waves gently lapped onto the shore, and the temperature was a perfect 72 degrees with a slight breeze coming off the ocean. Klaxon, tall and lanky with bright orange hair, bulging eyes, an exaggerated neck and pronounced Adam’s apple was a good guy to know. He usually warned the locals about stormy weather about to hit the shore, crazy traffic on 95, or even if there was going to be a police sting looking for drunk drivers. Klaxon let all of us know in ’54, (I’m using us liberally since I was only three,) that Hurricane Chuck was set to touch down in Rye and people better prepare for a whopper, he saved Blink’s, The Sea Ketch, and even Funarama from having to shutter their doors due to weather damage. Actually saved ‘em twice ‘cause the Blizzard Athena struck that same winter. Some people called him Doppler, but his uncanny senses gave him the ability to pick up far more than just weather patterns. So, when he came running down to the beach everyone held on to their bags and their breath.
“IERA is comin’, lots of ‘em. They got a caravan headin’ this way. Looks like 10 Hummers, and two troop transports. Total of about 100 soldiers are about to touch down right here on Ocean Boulevard in about an hour,” Klaxon wailed. His eyes were typically bulgy, but today they might have popped out of his head from alarm.
“Fuck!” Raygun snapped as he threw his two remaining bags into the sand. Raygun is Big Poppa out here. The de facto leader of the mutes, a quiet guy, but his words and actions carried weight amongst the strange in the Portsmouth community. When the mutants started to emerge on the scene back in 2030, (although if you ask the real old heads of the area - 2025 is when Tri-boobed Sally started shaking her thing at Kitten’s,) Raygun was the one who gathered people together and started to form a support group for people experiencing “odd body phenomena.”
Ray was just Ray back then, a biker and tattoo artist at Hobo’s, but in Ray’s first meeting he revealed his mutation. Ray could “cock” his arms and two large gun barrels would replace his hands – he could fire energized beams from his arms (in other states Ray might have to register his arms.) Ray lost a lot of business as rumor mongers warned that Ray would take out your leg in the middle of a session. Never happened of course, but Ray persevered. He rallied the mutants of the area with his soft spoken from the heart approach and there wasn’t a mutant in the area that didn’t listen when Ray’s mutton-chopped, Fu Manchu mustached mouth started speaking. Ray took “Live Free or Die” and threw the state’s motto right back in the face of the delegates in Concord. Things weren’t perfect and we still had issues with the normies, but there was a “kum ba yah” vibe in the Seacoast region.
“Klaxon, have you told the telepaths yet?” a hard look settled on Ray’s face.
“No, Ray, you were my first stop.” For a beat the air just, kind of sizzled as the wavy lines of humidity distorted Ray’s features.
“Klax, tell the ‘paths to mobilize the Mutes – seems like we have turf to protect. If this was going to be another Waco situation than they would have busted down here with more than just a hundred troops. Either that or they don’t know what we’re packing down here. Motherfuckers don’t learn – after that horrible shit that went down in Texas we’re not having that here in Hampton. Seabrook is up to date and running to their specifications – this is a power and money grab and we’re goin’ to head them off at the path. Timber, you got your girl on dial?
“Errr, we’re kinda on a break.” I avoided Ray’s searing eyes by making figure eights in the sand with my shuffling feet.
“You’re on a break for rita’s and fajita’s, you’re not on break for a freakin’ assault on our livelihood – get Hazy and her girls down here too.” Ray punctuated his admonishment with a crude spit into the sand and pulled his t-shirt on. “Klax, what are you still doin’ down here, last time I checked an hour ain’t gettin’ any longer.”
“Yeah, sorry Ray – you got a plan?” Klaxon’s large Adam’s apple gulped like a wave crashing against the shore.
“Head ‘em off at the jump, turn’em around and make them forget the entire reason why they came. I know we got the mutepower for that type of maneuver. After that we’ll have to look at who we have to pay off – someone’s looking to get their hands greased. Now get tell the ‘paths and make sure to get Forgetmenot down here as well.” Ray had his plan set and he was already moving to make more calls. “Tourney’s off for now boys and girls – we got company coming and it ain’t going to be pretty. Get the children to bed and unless you got firepower to contribute get off the streets, it’s about to get hotter than August on Ocean Boulevard. Bronson stop standing there and looking pretty – Bark the fuck up – you’re going to be center stage for this dog and pony show.”
Klaxon ran off to relay the plan to the telepath network. We had a number of them around the region – we called it the Neural Net. The telepaths all gathered and formed a hive mind in the area – when they started operating it was tougher to keep rumors from spreading than keeping a groupie out of a concert. It wasn’t hard to pick up when Klaxon reached Buzz – it was like a jolt to my cranium – I could notice several other mutes in the area hands go to their temples as Buzz’s not exactly light tough went through their brains.
Buzz was amongst the strongest tellies in the area, but he wasn’t exactly gentle. He could project out clear down to Boston if he wanted, but he only knew one frequency – rough. At least he was skilled enough to be selective. The message was clear – there would be a contingent to take out the trailing troop carrier – nothing violent - some coincidental flats. Seaglass could handle that by herself and likely not even draw attention to herself. Her surf shack was right on route and she could cover the road way with her glass shards no problem. Soon as she blew the tires out we’d send in the good Samaritans out to assist the stranded IERA troops. That would cut their numbers down by a quarter. Dwindling the number would be crucial in order for our other assets to be successful.
Ray figured that there was no way this was a sanctioned launch. The IERA was laying low after what happened in Waco, and this must be the impulsive act of some power-hungry ambitious type. Taking out more than one of the troop carriers would be too fishy even for a cut-rate officer looking to get some cred and some cash in the process. Taking out one should be enough though.
Soon enough Hazy and Pretty Poison were setting up a stage right on Ocean Boulevard making it a literal block party situation. People were naturally starting to gather; free concerts tend to do that. Funny stuff happens on the Beach all the time, but for Pretty Poison to set up in the middle of the Boulevard this was a special event. I figured I pull the band-aid off.
“Hazy,” I offered trying to come across as neutral as possible. Hazy knew that a simple bat of her eyelashes was enough to make me bloom.
“Bronson, you ready to rock out here?” A wry smile broke across her vibrant pink lips. Her eyes didn’t quite wink, but I’m sure they twinkled as I struggled not to get lost in them for the millionth time.
“Soft rock, right? You got any John Lennon?” I smiled my own high wattaged smile right back at her trying it keep the vibe friendly and definitely not flirty…
“As long as you have our back Big Boy we’ll play whatever you want.” Lacy interjected as she set up a set of turntables. DJ Lacy Arsenic was Hazy best friend and one of my biggest backers in Hazy’s world.
“Hey as long as we see the white bubbles flowing through the Boulevard, I doubt there be much reason to see Timber this afternoon.” I was confident Hazy could corral the IERA soldiers – she was able to turn my butterflies into UFO’s only by looking at me in her way.
“Typical Bronson, always looking for the peaceful solution when he could bust this whole thing wide open.”
 
Hazy doesn’t need much of a reason to throw down a kick ass concert, but in this case, there was extra incentive to blow doors out. Hazy’s a talented empath – she’s manipulated my emotions on more than one occasion and that’s without her fancy E.M.O. balls. Casuals think it is just a fancy light show when the balls start drifting down color coded to the tracks Hazy and the girls are layin’ down. Most concerts I’ve seen the pink bubbles are explodin’ and the fans just lose their fucking minds like they are on E. Today though Hazy and the girls would be playin’ some John Lennon We are the world shit numbing the boys in camo. Good doggies put those big bad shock guns down no need for those in this hippy dippy daisy chain.
I didn’t love the idea of Hazy being front and center, but I wouldn’t the time of day if I tried to stop her so why would I try? Forgetmenot would be behind the stage and once the soldiers were out of their vehicles swaying to the peaceful vibes she’d not so subtly wipe those government bootlickers’ brains to turn around thinking that they just succeeded in some routine exercise. to I was to be in my typical role – security and beef if the shit hits the fan. I mean this Hampton Beach everything always goes according to plan…