Caldera

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Caldera Page 10

by Larry LaVoie


  “Yeah. They know it was arson,” she said. “What could Bainbridge have been working on that would make someone blow up his house?”

  “We’ve got to see what’s on the laptop,” Jason said. “It’s all we have.”

  They drove back to the motel.

  Jason set the laptop on the side table in Carlene’s room. He booted it and was stopped by the password. “What was the old man’s password?”

  Carlene stopped pouring a soda into a glass and thought.

  Jason had his fingers poised over the key pad. “Come on. You knew him better than anyone.”

  She set the glass on the table beside him and leaned over staring at the screen. He could feel her breasts touching his back each time she breathed. He swallowed hard. “My fiancée used to wear that perfume.”

  “You’re engaged?”

  “Was. Lasted a couple of weeks. Ended six months ago.”

  Carlene hit his shoulder. “Be serious.”

  “I am serious. As soon as we got engaged she couldn’t stand me any longer. Ran away with my best friend. You come up with a password yet?”

  Carlene backed across the room, tenting her hands and touching her lips in thought. “I’ve got this theory about passwords. You know how they tell you not to use birth dates or anniversaries or anything common like that?”

  “I take it this is going somewhere.”

  “Well, who listens? I use my mom’s birthday; I’ll bet you use something just as easy. What is it? Your name spelled backwards, your mother’s maiden name?”

  “May eighteenth,” Jason said.

  “The day your father died,” Carlene said.

  “Worse than that. My birthday, too and the day Mount St. Helens erupted,” Jason said.

  “From what you’ve told me, that mountain had a lot of significance in Bainbridge’s life also,” Carlene said.

  Jason tapped on some keys, but nothing.

  “What did you try?” Carlene asked.

  “Just a thought. St. Helens didn’t work with three different spellings.”

  “Why would Bainbridge give you a computer without providing the password?”

  Jason shrugged and typed in, Yellowstone. It was rejected.

  “Jason, I don’t believe I’m thinking this, do you suppose ...”

  “Spit it out. I’m hitting a dead end.”

  “I’m thinking he wouldn’t give you a computer unless you already knew the password. Try May eighteenth.”

  “May eighteenth,” Jason echoed. “That’s my password.”

  “Exactly,” Carlene said as if she’d just made sense out of the whole thing.

  “Exactly what?”

  “Try it.”

  Jason turned and looked at her. She had a smug look on her face like she knew she was right.

  “Okay, Miss Smarty Pants,” he typed as he spoke. “It doesn’t work?”

  “Try using numbers for the day instead of spelling it out.”

  He typed in May 18th. “I’ll be ...”

  “The power of deduction, my dear Watson.” She leaned over him again. “Bainbridge lost his wife that day and never remarried.”

  Jason swallowed a lump in his throat. “Okay, let’s find out what’s on this thing.”

  He drank a Coke from the can and scrolled through files, stopped, backed up. “What is this doing here?”

  “You find something?” She had her hands on his shoulders and leaned her face next to his.

  “My doctorate thesis, the one Bainbridge rejected.

  “He made you rewrite your thesis, too?”

  “Don’t sound so happy.” He started scrolling again. “I didn’t have to wait till he died to get my paper.”

  “Just when I think you may not be so bad you come up with a comment like that.”

  “Sorry,” Jason said. “You leave yourself wide open.”

  “What are we looking for?” Carlene asked.

  “Beats me. I hope I’ll know it when I see it.” He stopped. “Is this what he was working on?” he had highlighted ystonesim.erupt.

  “I think so, he was into solid modeling and simulations. Bring it up.”

  Jason opened the file. A topographical map of the United States came up. Prevailing wind maps swept across the country west to east. “I’ve seen this before, he’s predicting the fallout area of an eruption.” He typed in the word fallout and hit enter.

  The screen blinked, advancing an egg-shaped ash cloud across the United States. “That can’t be right,” Carlene said. “That’s the whole country.” When the ash cloud stopped, numbers popped up in various locations. “What are they?” Carlene asked.

  “Ash depth,” Jason said.

  “That’s not too bad,” Carlene said. “The worst is only a few millimeters.”

  “Look again,” Jason said. His tone was grim. “Meters.”

  “My god, it can’t be right. Iowa has over three feet of ash? That’s six-hundred miles away. There has to be a mistake.”

  “I hope so,” Jason said. “We need to get to Yellowstone.”

  “Yellowstone? I thought you had to report to Sanders.”

  “I’ll call him.”

  Chapter 13

  For Joseph Talant the dream of a lifetime was slowly emerging. He was on the USGS website again monitoring the latest set of tremors under Yellowstone. But something was bothering him. An area of the caldera that had not been active was showing phenomenal movement in geological terms. The ground had literally leapt skyward five inches in the past week. He had no way of knowing what was going on, but he knew this would get the attention of the international community. Soon it would be impossible to keep the restless giant a secret. There was the potential for other concerned scientists to put pressure on Washington to do something. That would not destroy their plans, but it would complicate things. He shut down the computer. Even with Sanders’ wife and child in custody, he was not certain the activity in Yellowstone would not be acted upon.

  Salt Lake City, Utah

  They were outside the Avis Rental booth at the airport when Jason finally contacted his boss. From the response he wondered if Sanders had had a personality transplant. He had expected an argument, even prepared for one, but instead Sanders had assigned Jason to the monitoring station in Yellowstone. And Sanders had been uncomfortably quiet during the conversation. Three times he interrupted Jason as he was about to say something and finally said he’d fly out and meet them in Yellowstone in a few days.

  Jason put down the phone. “That was a strange conversation,” He said to Carlene. “I’m Bainbridge’s replacement.”

  “Really,” Carlene said.

  Jason wondered if she had wanted the job. Maybe she didn’t feel comfortable working with him.

  It took most of the morning for preparations; a rented Jeep, a tent from a local outdoor store, (he couldn’t stand to stay with the kids in the employee dorms), and some clothes. He wouldn’t have time to return his home to Oregon. All the while Carlene remained elusive and unusually quiet. Repeatedly Jason mulled the conversation with Sanders over in his mind on the drive to Yellowstone.

  “We’ve been on the road almost four hours and you haven’t said a word,” Jason said. “You don’t have to go back if you don’t want to.”

  “You think I’m afraid?”

  “I didn’t say that. If you’re not comfortable with me ...”

  “You mean would I be more comfortable with Bainbridge? What would you expect?”

  “I’m not a hero,” Jason said. “If the mountain is going to blow, I’m the last one that’s going to stay there long enough to get killed.”

  “Really.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “I’m in the car with you. Let’s just leave it at that, okay?”

  “Fine.”

  An hour later Jason said, “I was thinking about the fallout area, then it struck me what was really bothering me all this time. Bainbridge has to be wrong. You can’t predict an eruption without a lot
more data than he has on his computer.”

  “I don’t know him as one to make haphazard predictions,” Carlene said.

  “I’m thinking he might have pushed the data to get the government to do something.”

  “Does it matter?” Carlene said. “Sanders doesn’t seem too concerned.”

  “Maybe not, but he told me he’s going to visit us at the park.”

  “I’ll believe it when he shows up.”

  “You think this is a waste of time?”

  “If there’s nothing we can do to stop it what difference does it make,” Carlene said.

  “Damn, you have the craziest way of looking at things,” Jason retorted.

  “I’m not half as crazy as you?” Carlene glared at him.

  “Yeah.”

  There was anger in Carlene’s reply. “I’m the first one to admit I don’t know as much about volcanoes as you, but wouldn’t we be much better off getting as far away from this thing as possible. If it erupts the last place I want to be is in the caldera. We could watch this thing from the U of U seismic station and spend our energy getting the word out so people would evacuate.”

  Jason smiled. “Didn’t Bainbridge teach you anything?”

  “What?”

  “You think we could get a third of the United States to evacuate their homes by telling them Yellowstone is going to blow up? If we’re not there keeping things operating as long as possible YVO will stop functioning long before Yellowstone erupts.”

  “We could ask the government for help.”

  “Forget it. Sanders is the government. He’s the first one we have to convince.” Jason looked out at the dirty patches of snow in the shady spots along the road. The pavement was bare, the outside air crisp. They were climbing fast on a deserted highway. “I need to confirm Bainbridge’s findings, take some hands-on measurements.”

  “Then what?” Carlene asked.

  “I’m not going to sit on my ass and watch Yellowstone erupt.”

  Carlene touched his shoulder. “I’ll help any way I can.”

  “It isn’t going to be easy,” Jason said. “Peter Frank and Sanders are doing nothing. What does that tell you?”

  “It tells me they haven’t been convinced yet. Sanders especially won’t let this sit if he has the facts.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Jason said. “God, I hope your right.”

  Yellowstone Park Headquarters

  Peter Frank hung up the phone and wondered about the conversation he’d had with the Department of the Interior in Washington. Apparently the person hadn’t been told of Bainbridge’s death because he wanted to rag him about Bainbridge breaking the chain of command and meeting with the President without him being notified first. When Frank told him he’d done it without notifying him, the man backed off. “Official protocol requires any such meetings to be reported immediately to the Washington office,” his boss had said.

  Still Peter Frank wondered about the trip Bainbridge had made. Who had authorized it? Had Bainbridge gone there on his own? He called Sanders and filled him in.

  “Doesn’t surprise me,” Sanders said. “Washington must have intercepted an e-mail. It’s happened before.”

  “But they should have called me.”

  “Get used to it. They would have gotten around to you eventually, especially if they thought there was any credibility to the information.”

  “You knew about this, didn’t you?”

  Sanders was silent. Finally, Sanders spoke quietly, “All you need to know is I’m on top of this.”

  “On top of what? Come on Sandy, if you’re keeping something from me.” Peter Frank was incredulous. How could he be left out of the loop? He had confided in Sanders and the man had stabbed him in the back.

  “If anything happens, I’ll be in touch with you,” Sanders said.

  “Not good enough, Sandy. You’re sending Jason Trask up here and I need to be in the loop.”

  “Jason Trask will be working with your girl, Carlene Carlson. I’m sure she’ll keep you abreast of anything important.”

  “But you said nothing was going on. Am I to believe you or not?”

  “Calm down, Peter. I said there is no data that shows Yellowstone should be put on alert. That’s what I’ve told Washington and I’m sticking by my story.”

  “I need to know more.”

  “Listen, that earthquake yesterday was centered two miles below the park on the northwest corner. There isn’t anything to be concerned about up there because that area is already closed to the public. We’re going to keep a watch on it. Take my word, there’s nothing to worry about.”

  Peter Frank removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. There had been a number of cancellations after the last quake and the tourist season was just beginning. He’d damn sure have a meeting with Carlene Carlson when she got back. She was not to take her orders from Sanders. He was her boss and she’d better remember that.

  It was after midnight when Jason pulled into the campground where Carlene’s motor home was parked. They were in The Lake parking area behind the dorms for summer employees. Jason’s eyes burned with fatigue.

  “You can sleep on my couch tonight if you want,” Carlene offered.

  “You trust me not to take advantage of you?” Jason asked grinning.

  “I trust me,” Carlene said. “I sleep with a 9mm semi-automatic Beretta under my pillow.”

  “Really?”

  Carlene winked and nodded. “Daddy showed me how to use it, too.”

  Jason smiled. He thought she probably could. “Tomorrow when we’re fresh we can check out the old man’s numbers,” he said to change the subject. He parked the Jeep and looked at the vehicle Carlene called home. It sure looked better than setting up a tent in the middle of the night. “Impressive. Nothing like roughing it in the wilderness.”

  “Anymore guff and you can pitch that tent. I’d love to watch you drive stakes in the frozen ground.”

  “All I want is a bunk to rest my weary body. Your place looks mighty fine to me, ma’am.”

  It started as a gentle vibration, nudging Jason awake, but before he opened his eyes the motor home was dancing in place and the lamp beside the couch where he’d been sleeping crashed to the floor. Carlene darted out of the bedroom and was tossed to the floor. The moonlight coming through the kitchen window cast a pale glow over her frightened face. Jason rushed to help her to her feet and held her in a bear hug through another tremor. It was only then that he realized he had nothing on but his boxer shorts. “Sorry,” he said. “I promised I’d be on my best behavior.”

  She pressed her head against his chest. “Don’t let go.”

  He held her for a few more moments and said, “That had to be a magnitude six. What time is it?”

  Carlene looked at the microwave. The digital clock was blinking 12:00. “I don’t know the power must have gone off.”

  “You’re on park power?” Jason asked.

  “Yeah, one of the perks for risking my life up here.”

  “You got a flashlight?”

  “Just a minute.” Carlene disappeared into the bedroom and came out with a pen light. She shined it up from the floor across his toes up his legs to his chest. “Cute.” She handed it to Jason.

  He wondered how his feet had missed the broken glass on the floor when he’d jumped out of bed. He picked his watch up from the floor. “We got four hours sleep. The sun should be up soon. You want to go back to sleep or get up?”

  “Are you kidding? I couldn’t sleep before. Now every time the earth shakes I feel like it’s the last day of my life.”

  “Exciting, isn’t it?” Jason said sarcastically.

  Carlene slugged him on the shoulder. “You aren’t going to let that go are you?”

  Jason rubbed his arm in mock pain. “You’re the one who said the job was exciting.”

  “Get some clothes on and clean up your mess. I’ll put some coffee on.”

  The inside air was cold enough that Jason c
ould see Carlene’s breath as she spoke.

  He pulled on a Washington Huskies sweatshirt and a pair of Levi 501 jeans. He rummaged through his suitcase and found a pair of sweat sox and slipped them on. Carlene was in the kitchen in a baby-blue quilted house robe. She had lit the propane heater and found some candles for light. He watched her for a moment. “Where’s your broom?”

  “Oh, my. He does house work.”

  “Don’t get too used to it.”

  It was still dark when they entered the monitoring shack. Jason flipped the light switch. Nothing. Still he could see the room was in disarray. The crunch of glass was under his hiking boots. “Careful,” he said to Carlene. From what dim light there was he could see a monitor had smashed on the floor. Papers were strewn everywhere. “If I didn’t know better I’d think vandals hit the place,” he said.

  Carlene went back outside. In a few minutes she returned and flipped on the lights. “We’ve got an auxiliary generator. Enough gas for an hour or so.” They cleaned up the mess and Carlene brought the computers to life. “Jason, something’s wrong with these numbers.”

  He glanced over her shoulder. “Probably a tilt meter thrown off by the earthquake.”

  “But the GPS data shows a five centimeter rise in the dome in that area.”

  “Impossible. That ground has been known to move at two millimeters a year. It can’t rise five centimeters in a day. Let’s go check it out.”

  “You know where it is?” Carlene asked.

  Jason headed out the door. “Are you coming?”

  When they stopped at the head of the trail to Mallard Lake Dome there was still a foot of snow on the ground. “Come on, this is where the fun begins,” Jason said getting out.

  He opened the hatch in the rear of the Jeep, grabbed a shovel and a box of hand tools, threw a pack on his back and headed out cross-country.

  “Jason?” Carlene called out.

 

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