2042: The Great Cataclysm (3 page)

Using radar interferometry they were able to view changes and movement below the earth’s surface by observing the fringes of the images projected from fourteen satellites in space. The ERS proved a reliable tool in predicting earthquakes, and it was this equipment that first alerted Nick to the unusual patterns in the area surrounding Hawaii and Tahiti.

They knew they were nearing the Aleutian Islands and their destination of Unimak, when two days out the weather took a turn for the worst, and the crew readied their wet weather clothing.

Once the Navilon hood was opened, foam would slush across the deck like snow until it became a no-go zone. Grim faced men hauled out safety harnesses and hung them by the exit doors, as no-one had to be told of the dangers of falling overboard in the icy sea.

Clouds deepened and a heavy leaden hue pulled a curtain over the light from the sky. Nick and Sam peered through the wheelhouse window at a sea that had been growing more angry by the hour.  Frosty white caps fringed the tops of the black waves as they peaked and sloughed into deep troughs, and the biting northerly wind whipped the ship in it’s a nasty frenzy.  The island loomed ahead like a misty dark grey fortress, bleak and barren with little vegetation visible. Nothing but a formidable coastline of blackish blue rocks, dominated by the Shishaldon Volcano towering over the ice-locked reaches, it’s elongated fingers of cooled lava threatening to call out it’s fire demons any moment. It was a dramatic, chilling contrast to Tahiti.

Once suited up the men moved to the exit and Sam opened the rear section of the Navilon hood. D
imethyl sulphide, the distinctive smell of the ocean hit their senses like a sledge hammer.
Sam hugged his elbows. ‘Man o’man!  Who’d want t’ live in this mis’rable place? I’d forgotten what it’s like to be cold, it’s still bloody freezing here.’ 

Nick cupped his hands to his mouth and puffed a stream of warm air over his tingling fingertips. ‘Beats me. Even the Russians hate it! They call it the Roof of Hell because of all the active volcanoes. There’s so many here, and any one of them could blow this end of the world apart. Arhh...you reckon this’s freezing, you should’ve been here five years ago, it’s warmed some since then.’

Wolf had warned them the landing wharf at Unimak had broken up last year, and getting onto the island in one piece was going to be a challenge. Sam anchored the Platypus well offshore where she would be safe, while Nick and Jeremy prepared to go ashore in the rib, leaving Sam and Beau
on board
with the crew to look after the ship. The sight of them in their heavy clothing and life jackets drew a full throttled laugh from Sam. ‘Man, you two look like the Bridgestone man. You’ll drown if you fall in the water wearing all that gear.’

‘I’ll risk it.’ Nick grinned and slapped his sides. ‘Like you said, it’s bloody freezing mate.’

The port and starboard gangplanks were stowed flush to the bulwark, in a weather skirt pocket on each side of the ship, and were activated by a switch on the deck rail that swung them out and down to the water, locking them in place beside the hull.

They looked down this gangplank to the bouncing rib waiting below. From this point the rib looked fragile, and not something equipped to battle these seas. Jeremy paled and stepped back.

‘I’ll go first.’ Nick offered. ‘You be okay?’

‘Sure, piece of cake’ Jeremy swallowed hard and frowned as a crew member took Nick’s arm to guide him onto the steep gangplank.

The angry sea whipped the rib back and forth, and the crew member sitting by the centre console bowed his head as he grappled with the wheel to keep her steady. Foam billowed over his head, dripping over his oilskins in large blobs. Nick jumped in without hesitation and scrambled into his place behind the centre console. He looked up and waved to Sam above as Jeremy leapt in after him. The second the men were aboard the crew member gunned the two powerful outboard motors and spun the rib away from the ship with an expert thrust, and they headed for the ironbound coast.

Danger was ever present, the shore was gouged and jagged by constant surges that pounded and eroded the coastline endlessly. In the hands of an unskilled boatman the rib could easily have capsized on the treacherous rocks, but this crew member knew his job and he guided them through the menacing gauntlet to safety without mishap.

Four men came forward
to greet the new arrivals, slapping their bodies like fat penguins flapping their wings to keep the blood flowing
. They helped bring the boat ashore, and when all was secured the largest of the men clad in foul-weather gear, slapped his hands on Nick’s shoulders, and hugged him to his barrel chest. Smiling blue eyes above an unruly red beard softened his leathery weather-beaten countenance and brought a warm glow to his face.

‘Nicky. Been a long time! Come, my friends. I’ve got a warm tot o’rum waiting back at camp.’ Wolf’s voice warmed more than the frigid air that puffed white clouds around him. It softened Nick’s grimace and reminded him why he liked Wolf so much.

‘Christ Wolf, how do you live in this cold hole? It’s not even fit for the bears!’ Nick’s reply was partly lost in the howling wind, as the men hunkered down to face the trek ahead. After the rib was secured, Wolf led the way with the others close behind, scrabbling over the slick rocks, greased to a slippery shine by the constant sea spray that coated this inhospitable part of the coastline.

Nick reeled against the bitter blast that blew from the North and lashed his face like knife cuts, and one by one the small party began to string out as they gained the higher level. They stumbled across an uneven tract of land covered by sparse patches of dry grass, whose scruffy tips had been given temporary life by the spattered muddy snow clinging in small glittering beads to their surface.  Bent low against the savage winds that lashed their backs like a demon slave driver, the men managed to defy their adversary and made it into the small isolated camp, thankful for the promised shelter from the elements bent on their destruction.

They came upon a building twenty metres long, shaped like a barrel cut in half, it’s corrugated iron sides effectively repelling the constant snow falls that battered it’s rusty shell. With no windows apparent it did not present a welcoming site, and when they entered through the one visible doorway, they slammed their eyes shut against the sudden bright lights that prickled their dry eye balls like sharp needles, and their ears attuned to the howling wind gratefully absorbed the calm silence.

Wolf’s research station supported a small crew of dedicated men who spent long lonely hours monitoring displays from the vast array of electronic equipment. The only other residents of the island were a crew from the United States Coast Guard, and some hardy fishermen.

They found the main room housing the recording instruments and computer displays littered with discarded graphs, crumpled paper, and reams of other documents curling like unruly snakes beneath a long centre table. In 2042 all electronic equipment was voice controlled and a vast amount of data was stored on chips, but scientists still needed paper maps and charts on which they could scribble and write notes. Beneath this layer of superficial clutter it was remarkably clean. Another large room beside this, lined with rough hewn timber and obviously well insulated beckoned the shivering men.  Large comfortable lounge chairs squatted in one corner, arranged around an oversized square coffee table.  The sweet smell of spruce from the open fireplace filled the room, sparking warmly, offering the weary freezing visitors solace from the cold outside.

A giant moose head dominated one wall. Broad flat antlers edged by large marginal prongs formed a wide frame over his head, and deep brown soulful eyes fixed the occupants with a sombre gaze. Nick wiped snow flakes from his tingling nose and wondered why Wolf - who was a gentle man, would mount such a constant reminder of man’s cruelty.

Wolf stamped his feet to shake away the fluffy white snow flakes that clung to his boots. He noted Nick’s frown and he nodded toward the moose. ‘It was here when I arrived.  I’ve been meaning to get rid of it, but he’s become a friend, of sorts.  You need all the friends you can get here.’ He coughed and removed his thick weatherproof coat and brushed more snow from his florid face.

‘The big tremor swarms started six weeks ago and they haven’t stopped - I’ve lost count of how many.’

The men stripped down to their insulating body suits as introductions were made to the two assistants. Wolf began pushing papers aside on the coffee table. ‘We’re recording too many around the lighthouse and the wild life have disappeared. That’s really scary.’ He pointed to a scarred map on the wall to the south-western tip of the island. ‘We’re in for some big quakes.’  He pulled at the fiery growth along his right jawbone, a habit Nick remembered he had developed when things were getting out of hand. ‘Shishaldon’s been rumbling for weeks. By Got, it could pop any time!’

While the others removed their coats, Jeremy pulled some crumpled papers from his pocket and thrust them at Wolf.  ‘I brought these with me to show you, they’re identical to yours.’

‘Ya, the Pacific Ring of fire is buckling again.’

‘I know what’s happening but I didn’t expect it so soon.’ Nick said beckoning in Jeremy’s direction. He unfolded the map Jeremy passed to him and picked up a pen. ‘Here. There’s a new fault line on the Pacific Plate. It goes from the Aleutian Trench here, down though here by Hawaii, and all the way to Mururoa Atoll. The plates are moving, that’s what we’ve been monitoring.’

Wolf’s bushy eyebrows climbed like signal flags. ‘Nicky! There’ll be a chain reaction and we’re only ninety miles from the Aleutian Trench.’

Nick considered for a moment. He knew the Aleutian Trench formed part of the boundary between the two tectonic plates, where the Pacific Plate plunges beneath the North American Plate, and north of that trench a string of volcanoes had formed when the melting of the earth’s crust had been caused by the descending Pacific plate.

‘I don’t want to deliver the bad news to the world unless we’re sure. We’ll take the Bunyip down and get a closer look at the fault here. We’ll shove off early in the morning, so we’d better get some shuteye.’

Wolf’s station was not the Hilton, but to these men it could have been, it was warm and cosy despite light snow falling outside. The long animated discussions eventually dwindled and the over-proof, coupled with the heat from the fire began to take its effect. Nick finally slid into a heavy alcohol-induced sleep, l
ulled by the combination
, unable to resist the comfort offered by the big overstuffed chair. Wolf retreated to his basic quarters with his men and offered Jeremy the one spare cot available, that he in turn offered to their Platypus crew member, preferring to remain by the mesmerising flickering fire with Nick.

Chapter Three

The following day saw a marked deterioration in the weather, and rain fell in sheets as the little group,
their vision constantly restricted by the driving rain,
fought to keep their footing on the rough track back to the rocky shoreline. The dark sea curled it’s white-tipped tentacles toward the shore, threatening to pluck anything in it’s path and churn it below it’s icy surface, and the chrome sides of it’s heavy swell gleamed in the eerie light before dropping into canyons of black water.

Nick knew it was tempting fate setting out for the Platypus in this foul sea, but they had no choice, they did not expect a change in conditions for days.

The crew member unhitched the rib line from the steel peg Wolf’s men had driven into the edge of the water, while the others dragged and pushed the heavy rubber rib back into the wild water. They slipped and skidded over sharp rocks that thrust their way above the foaming waves and threatened to turn an ankle or worse. Each man scrambled into the small boat one at a time, grabbing the sides of the rib, while the treacherous waves lashed them with icy water and fought their departure with an intensity only beaten by the push of the powerful outboard motors.

During their roller-coaster ride back to the ship, the rib was swamped by the raging sea non-stop. Shouting into the wild wind only served to freeze their teeth with air so cold it brought tears to their eyes. Nick and Jeremy knew better than to let go the hand holds, but Wolf almost went overboard when he wrapped his arms around his body instinctively to shield himself. His head slammed into the centre console and he floundered on the floor, but safe.

The Platypus loomed ahead
riding on her huge anchor, fighting to stay in position, thrashed by the
mist and spray leaping off the ocean. Nick’s mind flashed back to Tahiti and the warmth they had left behind two weeks ago
.
A man must be bloody ma
d
, he thought. ‘We’ll have to move quick or we’ll be crushed against the ship.’ He shouted.

Onboard Platypus the crew wearing tethers lowered ropes and the gangplank. Confused waves battered the small boat against the side of the ship unrelentingly, while the crew member battled to keep her steady. Nick immediately fastened a rope to his waist and turned, just in time to see Jeremy about to fall overboard. He lurched forward, grabbing Jeremy’s arm just as he went over the side, holding desperately as the boiling sea tried to wrench his body from the rib.

‘Wolf, grab his other arm!’  Nick yelled. Struggling together they pulled Jeremy’s flaying body from the angry foaming turmoil, all three falling soaked and exhausted back into the rib. Nick secured one of the swinging ropes around Jeremy’s waist and yelled above the roaring sea. ‘Christ Jeremy!  Thought y’were a gonna that time.’