by Jake Bible
“An hour ago, sir,” Joan replies. “He’s supposed to have an answer to us by this evening.”
“Guess they don’t give a crap now that their investment is about to be buried under a pile of ash,” President Nance growls. No one replies. He shakes his head and looks over at Admiral Malcom Quigley, Head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. “Admiral, what’s the latest on the evacuation?”
“Everything is moving as fast as possible, Mr. President,” Admiral Quigley replies. “But, as we guessed, not everyone wants to leave.”
“What are the estimated numbers staying behind?” President Nance asks.
“Several million,” Admiral Quigley responds. “I’ve received reports of some groups ranging in the hundreds actually taking up arms against the National Guard troops trying to move them to safety.”
“Please tell me shots haven’t been fired,” President Nance sighs.
“I wish I could, sir,” Admiral Quigley frowns. “But we know of at least one hundred dead because of various skirmishes.”
“What the hell is wrong with these people?” President Nance barks. “Don’t they know that they could die if they stay?”
“Some are seeing the supervolcano as God’s judgment and refuse to leave on religious grounds,” Joan says. “The Christian Right isn’t helping and is actually fueling the notion that to leave would be to go against God’s will.”
“I’m a Christian born and breed,” President Nance snaps. “And I sure as hell am not buying into the Rapture crap being spewed. Why can’t people just be sensible and get to safety? They can debate God’s plan all they want once they get to Japan or Australia or Egypt or wherever!”
“The good news is the AM radio stations are going dead because of the atmospheric interference,” Deputy National Security Advisor John Jensen says. “Most of the fire and brimstone talk is now silenced by the supervolcano activity. I’m sure most of the nutjobs won’t get the irony in that, Mr. President.”
“How about we refrain from calling our fellow citizens nutjobs, John,” President Nance says, “even if they are.”
“Yes, sir. My apologies, sir,” John nods. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
President Nance lets out a long sigh and loosens his tie. “Okay, someone get me some science types to explain why we’re feeling these earthquakes all the way here in DC. And a cup of coffee. Someone get me some coffee while they find the eggheads.”
***
Dr. Probst stares at her laptop, her eyes not even registering the readings the program is streaming across the screen. The level of exhaustion that has overtaken her is almost too much for her to comprehend. Her body feels like it’s floating where she sits while her mind is filled with cotton and rocks.
“You just going to sit there?” Dr. Bartolli asks. “Or are you going to tell me what you’ve found?”
“Huh? What?” Dr. Probst mutters, then sits up and shakes her head. She taps on her laptop and the images on the screen are duplicated on the large monitor bolted to the wall. “Right. Sorry. I haven’t slept in days.”
“None of us have slept in days,” Dr. Kevin Day snaps. “And you don’t see us falling asleep at the job.”
Dr. Probst looks around the room at the other members of the newly formed Yellowstone Scientific Advisory Board. Most of them are ranking scientists in the United States Geological Survey, while some are prominent geologists from various universities across the country. They all turn and look at the graph Dr. Probst has put up on the monitor.
“Seismic activity has increased a hundred fold within the last twenty-four hours,” she states. “Tremors are being felt within an almost two thousand mile radius. That kind of activity is unprecedented.”
“And scientifically impossible,” Dr. Day sneers. “Not without major fault lines splitting wide open and other volcanoes, the Cascades for instance, being triggered to erupt. How do you explain this, Dr. Probst?”
“I can’t,” Dr. Probst replies. “All I can do is report what I’ve found. You put me in charge of this data and I’m telling you what is happening. The behavior of the Yellowstone supervolcano is not behavior typical of any other volcano that’s been observed in modern times or even history. By all indications, this thing should have blown sky high weeks ago.”
“And we have no indication as to why it hasn’t?” Dr. Bartolli asks. “Every single government agency is focused on this thing. We have equipment at our disposal that many of us didn’t know existed. For the first time I can remember, funds are unlimited and we can do whatever we want. Why? So we can get some sort of answer to the president.” He holds up his cell phone to show a text message. “We have a videoconference with him in less than five minutes. Let’s see if we can’t get something pieced together that doesn’t make us look like complete idiots, okay?”
“We’d have more information if we’d heard from Bob and Coral,” Dr. Probst says, her eyes locking onto Bartolli’s.
“We’ve been through this, Cheryl,” Dr. Bartolli snaps.
“No, we haven’t,” Dr. Probst replies, looking at the other scientists. “Two of our colleagues are lost out there. Their job was to keep the sensors active. Now, one by one, the sensors are going down. We are losing valuable information and may have already lost two valuable members of this board. We need to send a new team out there to repair the sensors and to find Dr. Hartness and Tomlinson.”
She waits for the others to speak, but none do.
“Our focus needs to be on what we tell the president,” Dr. Bartolli says. “Bob and Coral knew the risks. We all do. And I won’t sanction sending another team out there. I can’t, in all good conscious, order men and women to their deaths. This is not the Army, Doctor.”
“You don’t need to order them,” Dr. Probst responds. “I already have a team of volunteers ready. Some folks actually have guts and are willing to risk everything for their friends and for the safety of this country. Those traits aren’t just for the Army, either.”
Dr. Bartolli watches her for a second, then glances away dismissively. “Collin? What do you have for us?”
Dr. Probst begins to argue then just sighs. She leans her head back in her chair and closes her eyes, wanting nothing more than to shut out the idiocy she is surrounded by.
***
President Nance grips the sides of the conference table as the entire situation room shakes. A couple of the advisors and techs cry out, their bottled fear finally getting free. President Nance says a quick prayer under his breath then smacks his hand down on the table.
“We will not lose this country!” he shouts. “We are Americans and this land was destined to be our home for all of eternity! I want answers, I want solutions, and I want to know how we will come back from this catastrophe!”
The huge monitor that covers the main wall across from the conference table shows the scared and exhausted faces of Dr. Bartolli, Day and Probst with the remaining scientists tasked with getting those answers and solutions to the president seated in the background.
“Mr. President, you have to understand that a natural phenomenon like this has never occurred in modern history,” Dr. Bartolli frowns. “This is unprecedented and we are doing our best to sort out any and all solutions to salvaging this country.”
“I don’t want this country salvaged!” President Nance yells. “I want it saved!”
“It can’t be, sir,” Dr. Day speaks up. “Not until we know what damage the main eruption will cause. At this point, we will have to wait and see.”
Dr. Probst openly snorts at the comment.
“Wait and see?” President Nance laughs. “I don’t wait and see anything! If I’d accepted ‘wait and see’ as an option in my life then I never would have become president! You figure out how we contain this disaster now!”
“Sir, as much as I’d like to agree with you and not with my colleagues, we can’t contain it,” Dr. Probst says. “What is happening has the full power of nature behind it.”
“Then g
et me something more powerful than nature!” President Nance orders. “I’ve heard of fires being put out by explosions. Get me an explosion that puts out a volcano!”
“Sir, that’s an interesting idea. Unfortunately, we have lost so many sensors that-” Dr. Probst begins, but is quickly cut off.
“We will do everything we can, sir,” Dr. Bartolli says. “We are conferencing with scientists from across the world in the next few minutes. The best minds from all fields of science will be on this, sir. We won’t let you down.”
“You won’t let the American people down, is what you mean,” President Nance replies. “I want a full report by the end of the day. It had better be a good report, Dr. Bartolli. Once we are forced to scatter with the wind, it will be hard to put this country back together. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Mr. President,” Dr. Bartolli nods. “Thank you, sir.”
The transmission is cut and President Nance looks over at Joan. He sees the look on her face and rolls his eyes.
“Oh, don’t start going soft on me now, Joan,” he barks. “Sometimes you have to get rough to motivate people, especially scientists used to living in their safe little academic labs.”
“Yes, sir,” Joan nods. “Of course.”
***
The three geologists sit there, the bags under their eyes drooping even lower as they digest the president’s orders. One by one, they turn and look at the rest of the men and women that stand around them, all looking like they’ve been punched in the gut.
“We’re all in agreement that what he’s asking for isn’t possible, right?” one of the scientists says. “There’s no way we can just blow up a volcano.”
“It isn’t completely unprecedented,” a woman says. “But certainly not on this scale.”
“It could make things a million times worse,” Dr. Day says.
“Or it could work,” Dr. Probst replies. “We have to be open to the idea, at least.”
Most of the room stares at her like she’s lost her mind while the rest just seem to deflate under the weight of their assigned task.
“Please, Dr. Probst, go ahead and explain,” Dr. Bartolli sighs. “You’re going to anyway.”
“Okay, bear with me,” Dr. Probst says and types on her laptop.
A satellite image of the Yellowstone National Park comes up and she taps a couple more keys, changing the image from realistic to thermal, showing the whole room where the most activity is centered.
“We’ve all been watching these images,” she states. “There is mostly hot mud below the surface and not as much magma as would be expected. This could be turned to our advantage. Magma would be a real problem, and that’s not something we can stop. But hot mud? That is something we can stop.”
“And how would we do that?” Dr. Bartolli asks.
“We solidify the mud,” Dr. Probst says. “Or, more precisely, we harden it by removing the water. If we can dehydrate the mud, then we can stop up the volcano. I’m not saying we can keep it from erupting, but I think we could add a mile or so of hard earth between the magma and the surface.”
“That would only increase the pressure,” Dr. Day counters. “It would make things worse than they already are!”
“No, it wouldn’t,” Dr. Probst says. “Think of this mud like the earth on a desert floor. If we can dehydrate it fast enough it would be pocked with cracks and holes. This would allow gasses to escape and not build up, keeping the eruption to average disaster level and not cataclysm level.”
“Average disaster level?” Dr. Bartolli laughs. “Like a hurricane or tsunami? Yes, those are so average.”
“Better than the end of the world,” Dr. Probst says, “which is a distinct possibility if we allow all of that mud and ash to reach the surface. It will be an ashen winter, just like a nuclear winter, but without the radiation.”
The room fills with excited chatter, some of it angry, some of it hopeful, as everyone begins to speak at once. Dr. Bartolli holds up his hands for silence, but he is ignored as ideas are thrown back and forth between the many scientists.
“Quiet!” Dr. Bartolli shouts. “Be quiet!”
The room goes silent and all eyes turn to him.
“Let’s say we can figure out a way to do it,” Dr. Bartolli says. “If we can, we will need far better, and more accurate, data than we have now. Satellite imaging is one thing, but nothing compares to an on the ground scan.”
There are gasps and murmurs at what he is suggesting. Dr. Probst just smiles.
“You see what she’s doing, right?” Dr. Day asks, pointing at Dr. Probst. “False hope so she can send a team into Yellowstone.”
“Sometimes false hope is all we have,” someone mutters from down the table. There are a few nods of agreement.
“If our calculations are off by a single percent, not only could we set off the volcano right then, the results could be exponentially worse,” Dr. Probst states. “The only way to make the calculations we need to make is to have the most accurate data possible.” She pauses and then stands up. “So, yes, some of us will need to go into Yellowstone and get the data we need. I’ll do it. It’s my idea, so I should be the one to go.”
“You understand the risk you’re taking, Doctor?” Dr. Bartolli asks. “You don’t have to do this. You can stay here in Virginia and be safe. Send in the Army Corps of Engineers. Let those soldiers handle it. That would be the prudent choice.”
“Your problem, Alexander, is you don’t understand that none of us have a choice,” Dr. Probst laughs. “Either we find the solution or we just sit and wait for the end of the world as we know it. Sending in the Army Corps won’t help us. They can’t do a damn thing without red tape. They’d need to do their own surveys before placing a single new sensor. I designed the sensors, I trained Drs. Hartness and Tomlinson. I’ve trained the techs that will accompany me. Just get me in there and I’ll get the job done.”
Dr. Bartolli watches her for a second then nods. “I’ll call the president. We will need to get you there as fast as possible. Hopefully the military has a way to do that. We don’t have 30 hours for you to drive there.”
“But all aircraft are grounded,” Dr. Day says. “The engines can’t handle the ash.”
“I have a feeling there’s a way around that,” Dr. Bartolli says then looks at Dr. Probst. “Get a team together ASAP. I’ll get your transportation arranged. If we are lucky, you can leave within the hour.”
“Within the hour?” Dr. Probst exclaims. “But I need time to-”
“Youwant time, you mean,” Dr. Bartolli says. “And that is something you can’t have. I’m finally saying yes, Cheryl. Don’t make me regret it. You get your team, you get your adventure, now get your ass moving.”
***
“They came through here, alright,” the man answers just before he spits a wad of tobacco out of the corner of his mouth and into the dead grass at his feet.
Terrie frowns at the man, but stays quiet.
“Can you say how long ago, Howie?” Terrie asks.
“Maybe a half an hour. Could be longer,” Howie shrugs. A car horn honks and he looks over as an SUV pulls into the parking lot of the small country store.
“Why ain’t you left yet, Howie?” a man asks as he rolls down the window. “I’m hearing they’re going to close down the highways after nightfall. You don’t leave now and you’ll be stuck here.”
“Ain’t going nowhere, Bart,” the Howie replies. “This store’s been in my family for four generations.”
“You’ll die when that volcano erupts!” the SUV man exclaims.
“Then I die,” Howie states. “It’s as good a place as any.”
Bart shakes his head, then rolls up his window and drives off without another word. Terrie looks back at the Bronco with Kyle and Biscuit seated inside.
“We have room, Howie,” Terrie says. “You can come with us. We’re headed to Seattle to catch a ship.”
“That where those buses and patrol car are headed t
o?” Howie asks.
“Yes,” Terrie nods. “We have most of Lincoln County heading down to Coeur d’Alene to meet up with my daughter and a federal convoy. You come with us and we-” She stops and tilts her head. “Wait...did you say patrol car? As in just one?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Howie replies. “Six buses and a Lincoln County Sheriff’s patrol car.”
“Just the one? You’re sure?” Terrie asks. “There should have been three patrol cars.”
“I only saw one,” Howie responds as he picks tobacco from between his teeth. “And they was moving fast. Didn’t even stop at the intersection there, just barreled right through. Good thing most everyone has evacuated or they could have run someone over.”
“Doesn’t make sense,” Terrie says. “Why only one patrol car?”
“Maybe the others broke down,” Howie shrugs. “You didn’t see them along your way here?”
“We took the back trails,” Terrie says. “Had to make a detour and it was easier coming in the back way.”
“Well, I don’t know about easier, but I guess you have the equipment to handle the back trails,” Howie says, nodding at the Bronco. “You got enough gas in that thing to get you down to Idaho? I have some stashed away for my generators if you need it.”
“We have plenty,” Terrie says. “But thank you. Did you see a black sedan following the buses?”
“Can’t say that I did,” Howie replies. “Just the one patrol car was with them. That’s all.”
“Okay, well that’s good,” Terrie says. “Thank you. You sure you won’t come with?”
“I’m sure,” Howie says. “Like I said, this store goes back generations. My uncle died of a heart attack right next to the pop cooler. I figure I may camp out next to the beer and go out the right way when it all ends.”
“It’s not like it’s going to be a nuclear explosion, and flash, you’re dead,” Terrie says. “It could take days or weeks before it gets bad enough to kill you.”
“That’s why I’m gonna camp by the beer,” Howie smiles. “The longer it takes, the more ready I’ll be.”