No ocean vessel, no military or civilian transport, and no other craft at sea, no matter how sturdy or how skilled her crew, was able to survive in that area of the Pacific lying between the West Coast of the continental United States and Hawaii. Every single ship in the water capsized, was broken apart, or simply sank under the sudden and relentless deluge. No human being could withstand the awesome force. Everyone on the sea that day, whether they were there for business or pleasure or official duty, died. There were no survivors.

THE UNFOLDING PANORAMA of horror was more than any human being could take in. The men and women in the White House Cabinet Room watched as what appeared to be the entire contents of the tidal basin came crashing against the side of the tallest mountains in the San Gabriel and Santa Ana mountain ranges. They watched as surging fingers of water laced with fire dashed through the low-lying passes and tunnels, then flooded beyond, over, and through them. Nowhere in that raging, steaming, roiling inferno was there any sign of life. No possibility of survival, and little or no sign of hope.

But as the satellite cameras scanned the mountain ridges, something moving caught Dr. Eisenblatt’s eye. “Stop!” he yelled to the operator. “Quick, back up and zoom in—over there!” He gestured with his finger to a point on the screen at the rim of a mountain. There in the midst of charred ruins, a man, a woman, and three young boys were huddled together.

“This is—it’s unbelievable. How did they survive? How could they survive in that place?” Dr. Eisenblatt asked no one in particular. Then, in answer to his own question, he said aloud, “They must have been covered by the hand of God Himself.” No one in that room whispered an objection to his unscientific assessment. What else could they think?

From a headset on the table, they could hear the voice of the technician. “That’s the antenna farm on Mount Wilson, Dr. Eisenblatt. I can’t detect any other movement out there, but they appear to be standing by what used to be a television transmitter site.”

“Tomorrow we’ve got to get a chopper in there,” said the science adviser. “We’ve got to get those people out of there—alive.”

“Consider it done, Jerry,” said the secretary of defense.

For the next hour, as long as there was light in the western sky, the cabinet members watched as the tidal wave spread out at great speed from the impact area. In less than twenty minutes Los Angeles was no more. In no more than a half-hour, southern California was inundated by the sea and buried under a mile of water. It might as well have been part of the Pacific Ocean. Now the stalking rivers of death were moving steadily inland to endanger the rest of the world.