del Ruiz volcano had erupted in Colombia. The cataclysm had killed 23,000 people in lahars, landslides composed of rock and soil mixed with melted snow and ice. Expecting to fulfill their roles as scientists, the young women found themselves overwhelmed by human need. Going without sleep for days, they toiled alongside desperate villagers, searching for survivors beneath the moonscape of debris flows. Their small field shovels, usually used for gathering samples, dug to uncover men, women, and children. Each time Kyle’s blade struck something yielding, she felt a surge of hope that faded as ash-painted flesh came up lifeless.
After excavating the dead, they reversed the process, assisting the locals in digging graves in the hard soil of a country churchyard. Open trenches were placed beyond the rusting wrought-iron fence, for the plot was now far too small.
As Kyle waited for Cass to answer the phone, she studied a photo on her credenza, of the two of them in front of the sloping fuselage of a DC-3. Cass had managed a brave smile in defiance of the horrors they’d witnessed. Kyle had been too shaken to muster a pleasant expression.
Cass answered in a hearty voice that became subdued as soon as she learned who it was. “I heard about Stanton. How soon do you think he’ll be back?”
Kyle had been lying to herself about that, but because it was Cass, she was able to say, “He won’t be back anytime soon … maybe ever.”
The line went silent for a beat.
“You knew he’d retire,” Cass said. “You just didn’t expect to take his place under circumstances like these.”
“Hollis Delbert is in charge.” Kyle spoke over the hard feeling in the back of her throat.
“How in hell did that happen?”
“It’s a long story. Colin Gruy had a hand in it.”
“Doesn’t Stanton have a say?”
“Since they moved him to the CCU, he’s not talking.”
It turned quiet again.
With an effort, Kyle got to business. “What I’m calling about is I need some portable seismographs for Yellowstone. There’s a swarm of activity and Hollis is holding the Institute’s supply hostage for the Wasatch.”
“I saw the Yellowstone action on the Web,” Cass said. Even when she and Kyle weren’t in touch they kept up with each other through the little tracks and traces of their projects.
“What you didn’t see,” Kyle told her, “is the vertical motion on the caldera. It’s coming up like an active volcano rather than a dormant thermal area.”
“Where’s the fire?”
“I’m afraid it may be Nez Perce Peak.”
“I’ve been worried about that mountain ever since we learned it was such a young volcano,” Cass said. “Honest to God, I wish I could help, but we’ve got everything in the field.” Kyle heard a sound like a fist striking a metal desk. “If there was anything in storage, I’d overnight it.”
Did Cass’s sense of urgency make her feel better or worse? At Nevado del Ruiz, they’d learned together the meaning of “death toll” in a way neither Hollis nor Colin seemed to grasp. On the other hand, as Kyle preferred to believe, the men did know such things at a gut level and refused to let it out.
At least Wyatt seemed to understand.
“I guess I’ll try Volcano Hazards.” Kyle skipped to her next line of backup, the USGS Cascades Volcanic Observatory where Colin worked. “I can check what Colin did about sending me some help.”
Cass hesitated. “Do you know about the new group in Volcano Hazards?”
“No.”
Volcanologists had the same toys as seismologists; maybe they could help. Kyle snugged the phone against her neck and reached for a piece of paper. “Wait till I get a pen, and give me a name.”
“You won’t need a pen,” Cass said slowly. “The new group leader is Nicholas Darden.”
Her luck had run out. Nick was only a call away, and she had the best excuse on the planet to make it.
Slumping forward, Kyle put her head onto her crossed arms. Over the years, she had
After excavating the dead, they reversed the process, assisting the locals in digging graves in the hard soil of a country churchyard. Open trenches were placed beyond the rusting wrought-iron fence, for the plot was now far too small.
As Kyle waited for Cass to answer the phone, she studied a photo on her credenza, of the two of them in front of the sloping fuselage of a DC-3. Cass had managed a brave smile in defiance of the horrors they’d witnessed. Kyle had been too shaken to muster a pleasant expression.
Cass answered in a hearty voice that became subdued as soon as she learned who it was. “I heard about Stanton. How soon do you think he’ll be back?”
Kyle had been lying to herself about that, but because it was Cass, she was able to say, “He won’t be back anytime soon … maybe ever.”
The line went silent for a beat.
“You knew he’d retire,” Cass said. “You just didn’t expect to take his place under circumstances like these.”
“Hollis Delbert is in charge.” Kyle spoke over the hard feeling in the back of her throat.
“How in hell did that happen?”
“It’s a long story. Colin Gruy had a hand in it.”
“Doesn’t Stanton have a say?”
“Since they moved him to the CCU, he’s not talking.”
It turned quiet again.
With an effort, Kyle got to business. “What I’m calling about is I need some portable seismographs for Yellowstone. There’s a swarm of activity and Hollis is holding the Institute’s supply hostage for the Wasatch.”
“I saw the Yellowstone action on the Web,” Cass said. Even when she and Kyle weren’t in touch they kept up with each other through the little tracks and traces of their projects.
“What you didn’t see,” Kyle told her, “is the vertical motion on the caldera. It’s coming up like an active volcano rather than a dormant thermal area.”
“Where’s the fire?”
“I’m afraid it may be Nez Perce Peak.”
“I’ve been worried about that mountain ever since we learned it was such a young volcano,” Cass said. “Honest to God, I wish I could help, but we’ve got everything in the field.” Kyle heard a sound like a fist striking a metal desk. “If there was anything in storage, I’d overnight it.”
Did Cass’s sense of urgency make her feel better or worse? At Nevado del Ruiz, they’d learned together the meaning of “death toll” in a way neither Hollis nor Colin seemed to grasp. On the other hand, as Kyle preferred to believe, the men did know such things at a gut level and refused to let it out.
At least Wyatt seemed to understand.
“I guess I’ll try Volcano Hazards.” Kyle skipped to her next line of backup, the USGS Cascades Volcanic Observatory where Colin worked. “I can check what Colin did about sending me some help.”
Cass hesitated. “Do you know about the new group in Volcano Hazards?”
“No.”
Volcanologists had the same toys as seismologists; maybe they could help. Kyle snugged the phone against her neck and reached for a piece of paper. “Wait till I get a pen, and give me a name.”
“You won’t need a pen,” Cass said slowly. “The new group leader is Nicholas Darden.”
Her luck had run out. Nick was only a call away, and she had the best excuse on the planet to make it.
Slumping forward, Kyle put her head onto her crossed arms. Over the years, she had
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