“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, his voice godlike and booming theatrically from dozens of speakers burrowed into the walls.
The room darkened. Crane waited until his audience grew silent, then said simply, “The universe.”
Brilliant light flashed for ten seconds. “The universe,” Crane continued, “began with a clap of hydrogen and helium, vomiting fiery matter at fantastic speeds in all directions.”
The globe burst into holoprojection flame, vibrant reds and yellows swirled about the globe. “Our planet was born into fire about 4.5 billion years ago. Spinning, its contracting clouds of dusts and gases gradually congealed.” The globe changed as Crane spoke, holographically showing the formation of the planet from gas to solid. The massive scale of the sphere and the changes it demonstrated overwhelmed the people sitting in the darkness. Crane could hear their appreciative muttering.
“At first we were a planet of molten rock. Slowly, the heavier elements, nickel and iron, settled into a dense inner core. Some of the lighter rocky materials, such as basalt and granite, melted, floated upward, and cooled into a thin crust. There was mantle around the core.”
Lanie’s fingers flew over the keys of her computer, and the globe projection transmogrified into a barren, rocky sphere.
“Then it began to rain…”
Thunder reverberated through the room. Holo rain fell on the globe from dense clouds filled with lightning.
“It rained for thousands of years until the planet was covered completely by water. At last the sky cleared.”
The globe became a ball of spinning water.
“Cooling at a leisurely pace, the water evaporating, the planet developed land, floating land.”
Continental chunks appeared on Lanie’s globe, all of them slowly navigating the water world. Everyone watched, rapt, as the continental mass moved toward the equator, finally joining together in a mammoth, still-barren supercontinent.
“Pangaea,” Crane said, “Greek for ‘all lands,’ the starting point for the world we know today. The breakup of Pangaea due to unknown forces, probably convection, brought volcanoes—and the gasses of the volcanoes brought the beginning of biological life.” Crane paused. “And the breakup of Pangaea brought earthquakes.”
Crane looked down at Lanie. “Program the last New Madrid quake into the globe,” he said quietly. Newcombe scribbled on a piece of paper, and Lanie hurried to her programmers. She needed more input than she could manage alone to pull this off. Newcombe held up the paper. It read: Don’t stick your neck out! Crane merely shook his head, smiling wryly.
When Lanie signaled that she and her crew were ready, Crane said, “I call your attention to the United States and the Mississippi River.” All the lights went out except for one spot, focused on Middle America.
“It is May of 1811,” Crane went on. “The rainfall is bad this spring and rivers overflow. Although people hear a lot of thunder, they note that, strangely, there is no lightning. In the fall, the citizens of New Madrid, in southeast Missouri near the border with Kentucky and Tennessee, are surprised to find tens of thousands of squirrels leaving their forest homes and moving in phalanxes to the Ohio River where they drown themselves. In September, the Great Comet of 1811 passes overhead, shedding a brilliant and eerie glow over the forests—an omen to many.”
Crane walked slowly down the stairs. The globe was no longer spinning, but had stopped before the grandstand, showcasing the Mississippi Valley.
“America is a lawless frontier. Tecumseh rules the Indian tribes near New Madrid and all through the fall leads many a battle against the forces of General William Henry Harrison. Pirates and robbers ply their trade on the river, forcing cargo boat captains to form convoys for mutual protection. But in the early morning hours of December 16, a Monday, all that becomes secondary.”
Crane stepped into the spotlight. “At 2 A.M., Hell comes for a visit.”
A loud crack echoed through the room as a huge scar appeared on the globe. “The ground shakes violently, knocking down log houses. A hideous roar, mixed with hissing and a shrill whistling sound, emanates from the ground which opens. Noxious sulfurous odors envelope the surviving settlers. Flashes of light burst from the ground as it rolls. The ground erupts like a volcano, spraying water, rock, sand, and coal as high as the treetops. Twenty-six of these events occur during this one night. Horrendous. But only foreshocks. The twenty-seventh is the day of the quake and its power is felt in thirty states. Entire forests are leveled. The ground sinks, reforming itself, as huge fissures open up, swallowing everything. The Mississippi River reroutes hundreds of times; caught in huge ground-swells it turns into a nightmare of whirlpools and waterfalls, killing everything alive on the river. At one point it flows upstream. As the banks collapse, the river rises, flooding the whole valley, drowning anything not already dead.
“In Jackson, Mississippi, fifty miles from the epicenter, trees snap and buildings fall. In St. Louis, far upriver, lightning shoots up from the ground, chimneys topple, houses split in two. A thick haze envelopes the city for days. Ruin is extensive in Arkansas. Memphis is devastated by landslides. As far away as Nashville, buildings rumble and quake. A lake just north of Detroit bubbles like a boiling pot. The shocks are felt heavily in Richmond and Washington D. C. The statehouse in Raleigh, North Carolina, is rocked during a late-night legislative session. In Charleston, the church bells clang and residents experience nausea from shaking.”
Lighted branches on the globe extend out from the quake zone to include most of the United States.
“What has this to do with us, doctor?” Li called.
“A great deal, Mr. Li, because our calculations indicate that another major quake on the New Madrid fault line is years overdue.
Many of the precursors of such an EQ are already in place and we are attempting to pinpoint an exact time for this catastrophe. Dr. Newcombe, do you have anything to add?”
Newcombe sat for a moment. He wasn’t sure it was time to sound the alarm, but he couldn’t very well keep silent after Crane’s presentation.
“The Rocky Mountains tend to soak up western quakes,” he said at last. “Any quake to their east is going to be devastating. Our initial findings put the death toll at over three million people and the damages somewhere in the vicinity of two hundred and fifty billion dollars. The inherent chaos would affect the country’s ability to provide goods and services well beyond the quake areas and onto the international stage. The blow to the economy might doom it, and the country might never recover, much as Great Britain was unable to recover from its Twentieth Century wars.”
The entire room fell into a deep, hushed silence. Newcombe took a long breath. “Does that answer your question, Mr. Li?” he asked without rancor.
Crane liked the looks of President Gideon. His concern seemed genuine and he gazed into your eyes when he talked to you. He had an air of command about him that the Vice President lacked. Of course, that didn’t make him any more autonomous than Gabler, just easier to deal with.
“I hope you were merely trying to scare us all, Dr. Crane,” Gideon said, a drink firmly lodged in his hand. “I surely don’t know that I would want to preside over a disaster as all-encompassing as the one you describe.”
Mr. Li, standing beside Gideon, leaned up close to the President. “The good doctor doesn’t have that kind of a sense of humor,” he said. “I think he truly believes the prediction he made today.”
“I’m not conjuring spells, gentlemen,” Crane said, “if that’s what you mean. We’re merely building a reasonable scientific hypothesis.”
The President cocked his head. “You’re not sure this will occur?”