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, lulled 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.