by Bobby Akart
“That’s incredible,” remarked Rita.
The thick cloud cover had dissipated, and the dark blue sky filled with stars replaced the falling rain. Bands of brilliant lights in various hues of color shimmered across the horizon toward Idaho. Blue, yellowish-orange, and white rippled across the sky in waves. Just above the horizon, a light green light seemed to float like a fog on a lake.
“Earthquake lights,” muttered Ashby as she joined Rita by the railing. The lights were an aerial phenomenon associated with tectonic stress, seismic activity, and volcanic eruptions. These streaks of light have often been associated with unidentified flying object sightings near volcanoes prior to eruption. “I’ve seen them be—”
Several loud dings began to emanate from Rita’s laptop, which grabbed the attention of the group. They snapped their heads in unison out of curiosity. She rushed to pick it up.
“I’m on GlobalIncidentMap.com. Their quakes map reports seismic activity in real time. Guys, look!”
Rita turned the laptop for everyone to see. The quakes map identified the seismic activity by time, region, magnitude, and depth. Most of the activity was centered around Kilauea and Mauna Loa until just a few minutes ago. Now, entry after entry was in Idaho or Wyoming.
“These are located in the Caribou-Targhee Forest,” said Jake, who recognized the small-town names of Island Park, Ashton, and Squirrel. “Just west of the new drill site, Ashby.”
Dusty pulled up a map on his laptop. “That’s just outside the western rim of the caldera.”
They studied the quakes map on the Global Incident website until the entire page of recent activity was virtually filled with Yellowstone activity. Dusty was calling out the numbers as everyone remained riveted to the screen.
Jake walked away and wandered to the rail of the porch. He felt the first movement—a slight quiver imperceptible to the others, but noticeable to the guy who’d lived there for many years.
Ashby stood and looked at him. She focused her gaze toward Sentinel Creek and then up toward the sky, where the light show had intensified.
“Hold on!” she exclaimed as the ground began to shake.
Chapter 59
Situation Room
Washington, DC
The president had called the late evening meeting in the Situation Room at the White House. For six decades, the Sit Room served as a center for emergency operations to brief the president in a time of crisis. Members of Homeland Security, the military, and the specific agencies related to the crisis were typically in attendance. Tonight, the purpose of the impromptu gathering was the increased seismic activity near Yellowstone, coupled with a heads-up from the Washington Post that a detailed article would be published in the morning concerning Project Hydro.
The president insisted upon the USGS being present to defend their actions at Yellowstone. In addition to his national security team, he called in his chief science advisor. The president had already been warned by his White House communications director, the former president of Fox News who had ushered the president through his re-election, that the Post article would be unfavorable. Although Project Hydro was not his creation, and he’d gone on record as opposing it, the Post intended to hang it around his neck.
After they all arrived, the president called upon the USGS director to summarize the findings of the YVO team and those of Ashby for the others in attendance that evening. He used graphics and charts to show the increase in all scientific indicators typically considered precursors of an eruption.
When he was finished, the president asked for an update on the seismic activity at the Idaho-Wyoming state line.
“Mr. President, I would like to say that this activity is not out of the ordinary, but I can’t,” he began. “Before I explain why, let me advise you that I’ve ordered the seismographs monitoring earthquakes around the Yellowstone supervolcano to be taken off the internet and away from public view at this time. As you can imagine, especially in light of recent news reports, the potential for a panic here is great. This sudden flurry of seismic activity might signal a pending eruption, and it might not. But that determination should be made by scientists and the people in this room, not amateur volcano watchers and conspiracy theorists.”
The White House press secretary was in attendance, and she leaned over to the president and whispered. He nodded his head in agreement.
The president responded, “By seven tomorrow morning, let’s hope this activity has subsided. Taking the data offline will only fuel the fire of conspiracy.”
“Yes, Mr. President, I understand, and we have a solution in mind. The seismic data transmitted on the internet comes from a feed generated via the University of Utah Seismograph Stations, or UUSS. We have the ability to modify the amount of historical data that is streamed online. We can shorten it to an hour rather than the customary seven days.”
“Okay, very well. Now, let’s get to what’s happening at Yellowstone that we don’t want the world to see yet.”
The director of the USGS brought up an image of the Yellowstone seismic activity from two hours ago. Yellowstone National Park was depicted by a green line in the northwest corner of Wyoming. For reference, Yellowstone Lake was in the center of the park. Earthquakes measuring from magnitude three to magnitude six were indicated by red dots, which varied in size according to strength.
“Mr. President, this image is the culmination of earthquake activity over the last seven days,” he began. He used a pointer to draw everyone’s attention to the western rim of the caldera. “This is the location of significant activity this evening. Sir, the activity on the north end of the park can be directly attributable to the likelihood of a major eruption in the Norris Area at some time in the future.”
“When?” the president interrupted.
“Unknown, sir. The data I referenced earlier indicates years rather than decades. We will have some notice.”
“If we have years before Yellowstone erupts, what’s the hellfire emergency?”
“This new swarm on the western rim indicates the caldera is under duress, sir. We believe that a smaller, more imminent eruption is possible.”
“Would it be manageable?”
“Sir.” The director paused and took a deep breath. “A smaller eruption, similar in explosivity to Mount St. Helens or even de Fuego in Guatemala, would be manageable if it was standing alone. The problem, sir, is that the Yellowstone volcanic system is interconnected. While earthquakes larger than the ones we’re experiencing this evening are required to trigger the eruption, a smaller eruption in the area of the western rim of the caldera, for example, could destabilize the entire supervolcano.”
“One leads to another. Is that what you’re saying?” asked the president.
“Yes, sir.”
“Imminent?”
“Maybe. Predictability is not an exact science. We look at the signals, generate models, and apply our best analysis to make a determination. False alarms are possible.”
The president leaned back in his seat and looked at his chief of staff. “Great. If I order an evacuation and call out the National Guard, I look like an alarmist and incompetent when nothing happens. If I do nothing and the thing blows, then I’m a criminal accused of murdering millions. Why the hell would anybody want this job?” He grimaced and shook his head.
Nobody in the room responded to his rhetorical question, opting instead to allow someone else to speak.
Finally, the director of the USGS spoke up with a solution. “Mr. President, I came here knowing that this information would put you in an untenable position. I have a suggestion, sir, one that comes from my personal experience and is not necessarily the official position of the USGS or the Interior Secretary.”
“Out with it. Don’t equivocate,” barked the president.
“Mr. President, Project Hydro has just installed a fourth water-injection site near the location of this quake swarm,” he began. The president was about to speak but stopped. He waved his hand, in
dicating the director should continue. “I know you’re against the project, primarily on economic grounds, sir. However, we firmly believe we can cool the magma chamber down.”
“What’s your proposal?”
“Mr. President, I understand the importance of the phrase plausible deniability. I’m prepared to take the heat for what will happen and will offer my resignation in advance, accepting full responsibility.”
“Okay, may one assume you want to expedite the project?”
“Yes.”
“And in so expediting the project, is it possible a minor eruption might occur?”
“Yes, Mr. President. A minor eruption which would likely relieve the stress on the caldera for another six hundred thousand years or so.”
“Are there any other options?”
“No, sir.”
“Okay, what needs to be done on our end?”
“Sir, I would begin making evacuation plans, just in case.”
Chapter 60
YVO
Yellowstone
The next morning, Ashby and Jake were waiting in the parking lot for Younger to arrive at the YVO. After the UUSS seismic feed went offline, Dusty tapped into the NASA computers to follow the activity in real time. The swarm finally subsided about three o’clock that morning, after a sustained period of earthquake activity that lasted six hours. It was time to act, and she was not going to be blown off by Younger, as she had been before.
Ashby was growing impatient. “Jake, maybe we missed him? Heck the SOB probably slept on the couch in his office. Who knows?”
“Let’s give it a few more minutes, and then we’ll go inside.” Jake was attempting to calm Ashby. He admired her passion and respected her sense of urgency, but Younger hadn’t responded well in the past to confrontation. Jake hoped she’d adopt the calm approach he’d suggested to her before.
A car pulled into the parking lot and headed toward the front door of the YVO.
“There he is,” Ashby said, pointing at Younger as he exited his vehicle. He was not wearing his customary suit and tie but instead had opted for jeans and a white polo shirt with the USGS logo embroidered in green on the front. “Imagine that, he parked in the handicapped spot. Does this guy have a sense of entitlement or what?”
Jake was about to respond when Ashby swung the passenger door open and quickly exited his truck. There was no stopping her now. Jake’s window was rolled down, so he could hear Ashby yelling for Younger to wait.
“There’s no time for you today, Donovan! Go, just go do whatever it is you’re doing!”
“What about the earthquake swarm west of Cave Falls? Are you ready to admit your precious Project Hydro has caused this?”
“You’re out of your mind,” said Younger, who found himself suddenly face-to-face with Ashby, who’d sprinted after him. “Dammit, Donovan! Do I need to have you arrested? Maybe your ranger buddy will have to do it.”
Jake noticed a crowd had gathered inside the front door of the YVO to watch the sparring match. The onlookers didn’t deter Ashby, who lit into Younger.
“I’ve seen how far you’ve pushed this thing. You’re destabilizing the caldera. Don’t you realize that? You’re gonna blow the whole thing!”
Just before Younger was about to enter the YVO, he swung around and bared his teeth. “You need to get back on your meds, Donovan. You don’t think I’ve checked you out? I know all about Pinatubo and this crusade you’re on. Donovan, you’re wrong this go-around, and you need to let the people who’ve worked here for years do their jobs.”
Ashby was taken aback by his statements and her shoulders became visibly slumped. Her mouth opened to speak, but Younger continued his stinging attacks. He made their disagreement personal.
“I could’ve called your people at NASA. I didn’t because I learned of your situation. But enough is enough. Leave. No, better yet, go home. You’re done here. If you’re so concerned about an eruption, go hide somewhere.”
He turned around and marched into the YVO, roughly pushing the glass door open, causing the spectators to scatter.
Ashby turned around and sulked back to the truck. Jake climbed out of the driver’s seat to greet her when he heard a whistle from the corner of the building. Ashby heard it too and quickly moved toward the source of the brief, high-pitched sound.
She walked over to meet a woman who was partially obscured from Jake’s view. The two of them hugged briefly, and after a very short conversation, Ashby left and joined Jake.
She wiped the tears from her eyes and mumbled, “Let’s just go.”
Jake nodded and eased the truck out of Grant Village. As he turned right on Grand Loop, she finally spoke. “I really despise that man.”
“Can’t blame you there,” said Jake. “Hey, I don’t know much about that Shakespeare guy, but didn’t he say methinks thou protesteth too much?”
Ashby managed a laugh. “Shakespeare wrote it in the play Hamlet, and the line was the lady doth protest too much, methinks.”
“Same thing,” said Jake. “Here’s my point. Younger’s not protecting his turf. He’s afraid. He knows he’s got trouble with Project Hydro, and you’re the number one threat to exposing it. Those sheeple who work in the YVO aren’t going to turn into whistleblowers because they don’t wanna lose their jobs. That’s why he’s so hostile to you.”
“Okay, fine. He didn’t have to throw what happened to my parents in my face. And I don’t take drugs for it.”
They rode in silence as they passed Old Faithful, where hundreds of tourists stood waiting for the next eruption, blissfully unaware of what was going on under their feet. Ashby opened the metal clasp on the manila envelope handed to her by Maureen Burger.
“Was that your friend?” asked Jake as he glanced down at the envelope.
“Yeah, my only one, it appears,” she mumbled as she spilled the contents onto her lap. A dozen pages and two plastic key cards fell out. Ashby picked up the key cards and examined them. Then she turned over the small packet of materials, which included a yellow Post-it note on top.
“What’s all that?” asked Jake.
Ashby peeled off the Post-it and slapped it on the dashboard in front of her. The note read just in case. Slowly at first, Ashby flipped through the first couple of pages. Then Ashby’s eyes grew wide.
“Jake.”
“Come on, Ashby, what is it?”
“She’s provided me the instructions and computer passwords to shut down Project Hydro,” she replied. She picked up the plastic cards, which resembled hotel room card keys. “These are pass cards to enter all the facilities.”
Jake gripped the wheel with both hands as he swerved to avoid the hot, soupy asphalt in the middle of the road. The problem had sprung up throughout the park’s roadways due to the extreme heat being generated belowground, causing some roads to close.
“What are you gonna—” Jake began to ask before Ashby interrupted him.
“Oh my god, Jake,” said Ashby excitedly. “The last page is a copy of an email from the director of the USGS. He’s authorized Younger to immediately begin water injections into the Cave Falls drill site.”
“I thought it wasn’t completed. The lady said—” commented Jake before Ashby interrupted.
“It must be complete enough to risk pushing water into the western rim of the caldera.”
“Why now? Is it because of last night’s quake activity?”
Ashby set the papers down and stared out the passenger window of the truck, deep in thought. Yellowstone was extraordinarily beautiful aboveground, and Ashby was taking a moment to admire it before she responded.
“They’re trying to stop it. They think an eruption is imminent.”
Chapter 61
Jake’s Cabin
Yellowstone
On the way back to Jake’s cabin, Ashby reached Dusty and Rita, who were en route to West Yellowstone. They planned on driving into Idaho to set up more monitoring devices as close to the Cave Falls drill site as they cou
ld get without being detected by Project Hydro personnel. After the revelation contained in the packet of materials from Burger, Ashby had everything she needed. It was time to consider evacuating her team.
But first, she made a series of phone calls. She contacted her superior at NASA. Ashby was surprised to learn she’d been removed from the Advisory Council for Planetary Defense. There was no explanation given other than her contrarian views were deemed to be counterproductive. The insult broke her spirit and she gave her boss only a cursory explanation of her findings at Yellowstone. He asked for a written report, and she promised to get right on it, which was a lie.
Her next call was to Ella. Jake had to stop the truck for a few minutes to allow Ashby to finish her call before cell phone service became spotty. While they were parked along the side of Firehole River, a mud pot suddenly spewed steaming water mixed with mud into the air. Ashby was startled by the blast and then pointed into the distance as several others occurred downriver. One after another, the mud pots burst open with a loud pop, followed by the muddy mixture. The sound resembled the start of a bag of popcorn popping inside a microwave.
She disconnected the call with Ella and said, “Jake, none of this is good. I think we need to get the van packed and get out of Yellowstone.”
“I can’t argue with that,” Jake said in agreement. He considered her words for a moment. “You mean we all need to go, right?”
Ashby didn’t respond as Jake wheeled the truck up the rain-soaked gravel road toward his cabin. The frequent showers had taken its toll on the park, resulting in muddy off-road conditions.
Jake persisted. “Ashby? Right?”
“We’ll see.” Her response was noncommittal.
Jake pulled to a stop at the side of the cabin and was about to speak when Ashby quickly left the truck and wandered down toward Sentinel Creek. Despite the temperatures being in the upper sixties, a slight chill filled the air, and steam rose from the ordinarily cool water.