“This is not goddamn Yosemite,” Bundy said with rising anger. “We are not sitting on a bloody supervolcano.”
“Not now, no,” Mikel agreed.
Bundy exhaled, loudly. “You know, I keep hoping for bloody science from you,” he said, “and am constantly denied.” Then he spat a series of expletives. Despite his long string of degrees, the man had the mouth of a North Sea oil-rig worker, which is how he put himself through school. It was also the reason he made a point not to mingle with anyone who didn’t have a PhD. That part of his life was done. It was the only reason Mikel was allowed at the table, despite the strikes against him. If not openly blacklisted, Siem and the other engineers were definitely graylisted.
Dr. Cummins turned fully to the new arrival. “I don’t disagree that there is some kind of latent, potential danger out there,” she said quietly. “That is precisely what Dr. Bundy and I have been discussing. But what do you mean? What do you know? As far as we and our very sophisticated, very expensive instruments can tell, there is nothing down there, no caldera, no ancient lava flows, nothing even extinct.”
There was a hint of sarcasm in her voice. Mikel didn’t mind; at least she was asking questions.
“The key phrase is ‘As far as we can tell,’” Mikel said. “There are lava tubes down there. I’ve been in them. There are massive wind tunnels. That is how I got this.” He raised his slinged arm.
“Dormant!” Bundy said. “Not presently active!”
“And, if I have been correctly advised, all of that seen in the dark, in the cold, by a battered and confused man in an environment where the senses might be easily confused!” Dr. Cummins said. She nodded toward Siem. “That, from a man who was with you part of the time.”
“Exactly so,” Bundy said. “Where is the bloody proof?”
“That, Doctors, is why I am here now,” Mikel said calmly, cutting through the debate. “I want to go out and get it.”
“You want to go back out?”
“I want to conduct firsthand research,” Mikel said. “That’s what archaeologists do. Research. In the field.”
Bundy laughed. “Brilliant. And you want my blessing?”
“If not that, then at least a conveyance of some kind, even a very modest one.”
Bundy was still laughing. “As much as I would love to be rid of you,” he replied, “what you propose is absurdly unsafe. Even if the winds were calm—and they’re fickle, having just today approached sixty miles an hour and climbing again—we don’t know the status of the ice cover around that crater. It may not hold a vehicle of any kind. Or even a man.”
“Better to risk that than the modules,” Dr. Cummins noted.
Bundy shot her a critical look. “You agree with this?”
“Yes, but for very practical reasons,” she said. “We may, quite literally, be on very thin ice, even here. If we don’t know the root cause, we won’t know how to prepare—or for what, exactly.”
“You’ll never know what’s out there unless I go,” Mikel added quickly. “And over days, over hours, important data may be lost.”
“Or the entire base could be lost,” Dr. Cummins added, addressing Bundy.
Bundy shook his head once. “Go out there and you may be lost,” he said. “Again. And this time Siem won’t go rushing out to save you.”
“I’m not asking him to save me, or to save anyone for that matter,” Mikel said, “except maybe the research station. Look, I’m not an official part of this team. I can walk out of here if I want.”
“And bloody good riddance—”
“Fine, I accept full responsibility for myself and for any damage or loss you may incur,” Mikel said. “Just a Ski-Doo, that’s all I want.”
“And those people who were going to pay for the last damage you caused?” Bundy asked. “The ones in New York? I suppose they will cover this too?”
“Working on it,” Mikel said.
“You’re all empty promises and hot air,” Bundy said. “That’s a boy talking, a boy caught in a half-truth, not a scientist.”
Mikel looked over at Dr. Cummins. “Do you agree with him?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “You propose to do this with one functioning arm?”
“If I have to.”
“You’ll never survive,” Bundy snapped.
“That’s my concern,” Mikel replied.
“Not when my equipment is involved it bloody isn’t,” Bundy said. “No, absolutely not.”
“I’ll go with him,” Dr. Cummins said suddenly.
Bundy fired off yet another critical look. He seemed to have a bottomless supply. “Are you bloody serious?”
“Positively sanguine,” she told him. “Look. We’ve been sitting here for hours, getting nowhere. I want to know what’s down there too. But of more immediate concern, the ice around the pit is cracked. The melted ice inside may have solidified and secured it, but we don’t know. The satellite images don’t tell us that much. Furthermore, they don’t tell us what kind of areal degradation may have occurred below the surface. That’s where melting begins, along the ground line, and thanks to that flame geyser we saw—and maybe some we didn’t see—we could be sitting on a section of shelf that is weaker than we know. There could be hairline fractures or crevasses due to oceanic erosion. We must know the cause and we must try to determine the extent.”
“Which is the reason I’m imploring you to let me go out there,” Mikel said. “If there is a ‘next time,’ we may not have time to evacuate.”
“Or a place to evacuate to,” Dr. Cummins added. “I’ll admit, Dr. Bundy, that frightens me.”
The face of the geologist relaxed slightly. Mikel could be denied; a fellow scientist was different. Especially one who voiced legitimate concerns. He looked at Mikel.
“This man frightens me,” Bundy said. “He is impetuous. And I don’t think he’s telling us everything.”
Dr. Cummins turned to study the archaeologist. “Dr. Jasso, I agree with Dr. Bundy. I believe you know things that we do not. Let me tell you, I have no patience for deceit. I worked with a botanist along the Amazon who sounded just like you. Same careful phrasing, same hesitation, same urgency. He said he had to take our raft, double back and study some rare flower he thought he had spotted growing near a tributary. I later discovered he had seen mud flecked with what he thought was gold. It turned out to be iron pyrite. I know because I had one of the natives watch him. He no longer had any credibility with me, and I sent him packing, Dr. Jasso.” She examined the scientist. “What is it with you, Doctor? What are you not telling us?”
Mikel was silent. But his expression registered respect for the scientist and she saw that. She fell silent as well.
“That was unilluminating,” Bundy remarked. “Dr. Cummins, I wish I shared your enthusiasm for this course of action. I do not. Dr. Jasso, since your arrival it isn’t only the ice that has eroded. My authority has gone to bloody hell. Research is—must be—systematic or it is useless.” He shook his head. “But I’m tired… too tired to argue about this. Until we know something about what is out there—which, right now, amounts to very, very little—I cannot and will not personally authorize an expedition.” He placed his pale hands on the table and rose. “Now, I am going to sleep. We will revisit this matter later, after we have heard from the British Geological Survey, the U.S. Geological Survey, and other organizations whose job it is—not ours—to assess the situation.”