Nocturne In Ashes

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 3

TOPPER WORKED IN the dark. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t go near the crater of an active volcano at night. Such an expedition, even in full daylight with a helicopter waiting, is fraught with risk. But there was nothing ordinary about these unfolding events and Topper’s amazement outweighed his fears. He was riding the edge of this thing. Like David had.

Early in the summer, Mt. Rainier had woken like a fussy baby after a long nap, gassy and petulant. She’d spit up and burped, raged and bawled, and then fallen back into an uneasy sleep. For two months she’d snored away, uttering only an occasional harmless grumble, and Seattle let out its tense-held breath and went about its business.

Topper’s business was volcanoes and his harvest of data suggested that Seattle’s nonchalance was unwarranted. Geoscientists primarily monitor three predictive factors for volcanic eruption—thrust faults, earthquakes, and tiltmeter readings. When the three factors register critical levels, a warning is issued to the public and safety measures activated.

Last February, Mount Mayon in the Philippines had drawn the gaze of the world. Her thrust fault measurements and tiltmeter readings took drastic turns, but seismic activity remained low and stable. Two out of three tipped the scales, officials issued alerts, and media hyped the story. Cities and communities were evacuated. Citizens put their lives and livelihoods on hold, perched in temporary housing, and watched the mountain puff serene on the placid landscape. Ten days and millions of pesos later, they returned to their homes and commenced recovery efforts from the damage not caused by the volcano.

Such occurrences are the land mines of leadership, and the political and economic fallout is harsh. Scientists may be willing to lay it on the line, but the political figures who hold the reins are more skittish, put in a position where they must weigh the potential for lost lives against the potential for lost dollars. And where the bottom line is lost votes.

At Rainier’s first sign of unrest, scientists had deployed an army of “spiders” and other devices able to monitor the mountain’s activities remotely and their readings were followed with great concern. But as the weeks passed, public interest waned and only the scientists remained keenly aware of the volcano’s activity while Rainier wrapped herself in a blanket of cloud and went back to sleep.

Topper clambered nearer the crater, his snowshoes making a rhythmic shushing sound. The light from his headlamp opened a little vista in the dark, pushing back the shadows which pressed in from all directions. Mt. Rainier appeared to be pulling a Mayon move, but he believed the end of this story would be far more dramatic than the instance in the Philippines.

The west flank of Rainier was primed to blow. For centuries, sulphuric acid had been mixing with rain and snow, seeping through the rock, altering it into a clay-like substance, unstable and susceptible to landslides. The Osceola mudslide, 5600 years ago, had blown away the east side of the mountain, displacing the altered rock and making the west side the weak spot in the next major eruption.

He collected samples of ash and snow, pressing the tube from a solution-filled gas sampling bottle into the vent, taking care to avoid a steam burn. He should have waited until daylight, but he was determined to make his case. His gut told him that Mt. Rainier was poised to erupt and time was short.

He imagined he felt the hair at the back of his neck singe and crackle. He started down the mountain, headed for the panel of tiltmeters and beyond that, the four-mile hike to the snowcat. At the tiltmeters, he paused to log in the readings. The figures were astonishing and he made a note to check the calibration. He stowed the samples and the logbook in his backpack and climbed into the tracked vehicle, maneuvering it forward over the rough terrain, navigable in the dark only because he knew these trails so well.

He worked his way down the mountain until he reached the ranger station, where he parked the snowcat and transferred himself and his collections to his Jeep Wrangler. He started down the road into the lower range of the mountain. As he came into cell phone tower range, his mobile blipped. He pulled it out of his pocket and squinted one eye at the screen, keeping the other eye on the road which became smoother as he neared civilization. Four text messages and three missed calls.

He stopped the Jeep and scrolled through the texts. All were from Candace.

Call me.

Call me, it’s important.

Urgent you call now.

Call now or die.

His heartbeat surged as his phone blipped again.

If you value your paycheck, pick up the phone.

Candace was his USGS supervisor at the Seismology lab at The University of Washington, Seattle campus. She was calling from the lab and with this degree of urgency, he bet they’d hit the Trifecta. Thrust faults, check. Tiltmeters, check. If Rainier’s seismic activity was on the rise, that could bring attention in all the right places.

Before he could punch the speed dial, Candace’s jazzy ringtone blared in the Jeep’s interior. He pressed answer and heard the excitement in her voice.

“Get down here now. You gotta see this.”