Ira wasn’t the least surprised that Mercer had independently developed the same strategy as a team of the world’s top scientists. “That was the general idea, yes. The computer models we ran say the bomb needed to be buried at least eight hundred feet into the eastern slope to get the desired results.”
“And let me guess, the models can’t pinpoint the exact location until we drill some test holes.”
Ira nodded. “Which will take weeks we don’t have. Add in the time to bore eight hundred feet for the bomb and we’re way past the deadline.”
The bow-tied pessimist chimed in. “That’s why the evacuation should be ordered now. Nothing can be accomplished on La Palma in five weeks. It’s a waste of time to even try.”
Mercer ignored the comment and kept his focus on Ira Lasko. “You’ve modeled for a surface detonation?”
“We did,” Briana Marie answered. “Such a blast wouldn’t change the Cumbre detachment fault. It would still slip in its entirety, possibly as a result of the explosion. We ran dozens of locations and various yields up to one megaton.”
“No offense, Doctor, but take off the kid gloves and pump up your yields. Model a blast with fifty megatons and see what that does.”
“Besides irradiate southern Europe and western Africa?”
“Most of the people living there are going to die anyway,” he snapped back. “Shielding them from radiation then cleaning the fallout is the better, and cheaper, alternative to displacing them for the next two or three generations.”
Mercer wasn’t angry at her, but at himself. Since deciphering Tisa’s warning about La Palma, he thought he hadn’t limited his thinking when in fact he had. Even a minute ago he never would have considered setting off such a nuclear explosion. Now he knew that no option was too outlandish. Exposing two hundred thousand people to a hefty dose of radioactive contamination in order to save a hundred million was the kind of sacrifices they had to consider if they were to succeed.
“There has to be a better way,” a young volcanologist currently on La Palma said.
“I hope there is, but we have to explore every avenue. What did your models say about an underwater blast on either the western or eastern side of the island?”
Dr. Marie glanced away and admitted, “We didn’t run those scenarios.”
Although he’d been out of the loop with these scientists, Mercer took it for granted that as the president’s special science advisor he’d spearhead any effort to minimize the damage from the eruption. However, he would be relying on them for everything they could give over the next weeks. With that in mind he kept the recrimination from his voice. “Why don’t you look into that before we consider higher-yield nukes. We might get lucky.”
“I’ll get on it as soon as we’re done here.” It was clear she appreciated his conciliatory tone.
“To those of you on La Palma right now,” Mercer continued, “I’d like to see an underwater survey of the coastlines on either side of the Cumbre fault zone.”
“What are we looking for?”
“Vents. I’m just thinking out loud, bear with me. You were all in agreement earlier that you needed to drill eight hundred feet for the bomb to collapse the volcano.” On Mercer’s computer eight heads nodded in unison. “What if we can find an old vent that allows us to get even deeper into the mountain?”
Dr. Marie’s eyes lit up. “If we go deep enough, we don’t need to be so precise with the weapon’s placement. A kilometer or two in either direction might not matter. Rather than cutting open the volcano with a chisel, we can smash it with a sledgehammer.”
Her metaphor made Mercer wince. The handful of over-the-counter painkillers he’d found in the aft washroom did little to ease the fire in his back or the countless other aches and pains.
The young volcanologist on the island, Les Donnelley, typed notes onto a laptop computer mounted below his video camera. “I can hire a fishing boat, if there are any left here.”
The comment triggered Mercer’s next questions. “What is the situation on the island? What’s happened in the past twenty-four hours?”
“For one, the media picked up on the story,” Ira said with a mixture of irritation and relief. He would have liked more time to work without public scrutiny, but also appreciated that people could make their decisions about evacuating early. “It broke just as you took off from—” He stopped before divulging Mercer’s mission. “It broke early yesterday in New York. The networks have been preempting ever since. The panic hasn’t been as widespread as we first feared, but most people are still in shock. The president is going to address the—”
“No,” Mercer interrupted. As much as he cared about how the world was taking the news that a hundred million people might perish, he couldn’t let it distract him. “Tell me what’s happening on the island. From now on that is our focus. Let the politicians and disaster-relief people debate evacuation strategies and refugee issues. We stick with the science.”
“All right. Les, you want to fill him in? You’re in charge on La Palma.”
“You’re aware that the island is comprised of dozens of volcanoes, each one corresponding to La Palma’s history of tectonic activity. The one that concerns us is the San Juan volcano. It was the actual volcano on the Cumbre ridge that erupted in 1949 and caused the fault to slip.” Donnelley was covering familiar ground to the video-conference participants and moved on quickly. “Up until yesterday morning our time, the monitors placed around its summit and near some of its secondary vents and fumeroles were quiet considering the activity on the island’s extreme southern tip.”
“And that’s changed?”
“Yes, Dr. Mercer. Unlike previous eruptions here that were localized to one finite area, this one seems to be affecting others as well. San Juan shows every sign that it’s about to blow. We have some equipment lowered down a bore hole. We’re detecting a hundred microquakes an hour, and temperature and pressure are both up, leading us to believe that the magma chamber is beginning to fill.”
Mercer’s expression was grim. “This dovetails into the five-week prediction.”
“I have to agree, though I don’t understand how you can say that with any degree of confidence. It could take much longer.”
“Trust him on that,” Ira said. “It’ll be in five weeks.”
“What else is happening?” asked Mercer.
“The Spanish government has ordered a full evacuation of the island. The people here are taking it very seriously. Gas and ash levels are rising. Several elderly have already died and a previously unknown vent near the Teneguia volcano suddenly burst open under a school. Forty-three students and three teachers were asphyxiated. With Teneguia erupting at the southern tip of the island and San Juan showing signs in the middle of the island, people here recognize how the two are joined by the fragile Cumbre ridge. They don’t want to be anywhere near here if it goes.”
“There’s something we have all overlooked,” the twerp in the bow tie interjected. “No one has gone to the United Nations about this. I mean they know about the potential of a mega-tsunami, but don’t we need permission to detonate a nuclear device on another nation’s sovereign soil. Don’t forget they’re still smarting because we lost several bombs off of Spain’s south coast in the late 1960s. They won’t take too kindly to us intentionally blowing up one of their islands.”
“Who are you again?” Mercer spat.
“Professor Adam Littell of MIT.”
“And your specialty, Professor?”
“Fluid dynamics with an emphasis on wave propagation,” he replied archly.
“We all know about the waves if we can’t stop the slide so we don’t need your services. Kindly turn off your camera.”