2042: The Great Cataclysm (2 page)

Then there was the Bunyip, another source of pride. Nick named her after the large creature from Aboriginal mythology who was said to lurk in swamps and water holes. She had cost almost twice as much as the Platypus, however with the lucrative contract in hand, Nick felt the further debt justified. He thought about the rapid technical progress since 1958, when the first Bathyscape, as they were called back then, ventured eleven kilometres to the bottom of the Marianas Deep Trench in the Pacific Ocean.  His Bunyip was the envy of many marine scientists, and capable of reaching depths of six and a half thousand metres; about four miles. She carried the most sophisticated equipment available, with hundreds of electronic and mechanical systems. The latest and most innovative addition was a small chamber for a toilet, which allowed the men to stay down for the maximum life support period of eight days.

Nick had needed a brilliant man to manage her complex system, so when Beau Foster, who worked for a hi-tech computer company in Miami was passed over for promotion, Nick had pulled out all stops to hire him. Beau’s price was steep but he had earned his keep a hundred times over, and although they often appeared to be at loggerheads, they had become good friends. 

Nick was always ill at ease during the lift as this was the time she was most vulnerable.  One slip and immense damage could result. Now she was safe the relief he expected eluded him and worry lines furrowed his brow.  He tugged off his shirt to let the sun’s hot rays caress the skin of his weather-hardened chest, but there was a storm cloud gathering in his mind. He ran his fingers through his thick mane and sauntered below-deck to his quarters to fill out the final report to Josh Harrington at the American Geological Institute.

He stepped inside to the welcome quiet dimness of the cabin. An old mahogany desk flanked by two comfortable well worn leather armchairs dominated the spacious area, and surrounded by teak panelled walls, it gave the room a masculine lived in feel. A mahogany cabinet with
glass enclosed shelves jumbled with books on Clipper ships and marine wrecks,
completely covered one wall
. Charts stuffed into cylinder tubes, and quirky mementos collected by Nick from the far-flung parts of the world he had visited, decorated every inch of spare space. Another wall housed a small bar, where he kept a good supply of his favourite Johnny Walker Black Label scotch.

He gazed longingly at the conventional double bed he had installed to replace the Captain’s bunk, it’s rich burgundy cover smoothed to perfection. The room was tidy and clean as it usually was when Nick had been below all day. It didn’t matter how often he asked the bosun to refrain from putting things away, he took no notice; claimed it was his navy training. Nick liked the homeliness of a little mess around him, it briefly reminded him of living with Brian who needed order around him. It had been the only thing that annoyed him about his twin brother, yet in spite of that he missed him, it had been quite a while since he had been home.  Video communication was okay but nothing like hugging someone you loved.

He poured himself a nip of scotch, swirled the glass in his hand and thought
,
what the hec
k
, and topped it up to half-full. The deep amber liquid rippled in response to the tremble in his hand as he raised the glass slowly to his mouth. He was aware he had been drinking more than usual lately, but it soothed the rough edges and lightened his mood. Within moments the alcohol achieved its effect and he strode to his desk, picked up his Andpad and dictated a half page. He stopped to read what he had said, corrected some of the details and saved. A familiar strong twinge pricked his left leg and he kicked out in annoyance. Ten years ago this leg ached with such pain even medical treatment failed to alleviate the non-stop agony. It was only
when he called his brother in Sydney
after days of suffering, that he learned Brian had broken his left leg in a skiing accident. He rubbed the leg rapidly hoping his damned fool brother had not had another accident. Then he realised it, together with his sore head was a result of the tossing about he had just experienced on the Bunyip that morning.

It was no good. He felt calmer, but the words he spoke were disjointed, so he decided to postpone the damn report and take a hot shower. The steaming water prickled his skin, pushing away some of the tension, and he emerged feeling slightly better. He grabbed one of the thick bath sheets monogrammed with a small Platypus and vigorously rubbed his reddened skin dry, then returned naked to his room. The Andpad leered at him so he made a determined effort and finished the report, triumphantly ordering the send command.

He poured another Johnny Walker, this time a more conservative measure, and picked up his acoustic guitar. He plucked out his rendition of John Lennon’
s
Imagine
,
one of his favourites; his musical preferences running through Paul Simon, the Beatles classics and sometimes Tommy Emmanuel, although he found those numbers more advanced than his skills permitted. Yet he tried because he found it relaxing.

He looked at the drink on the bedside table and it reminded him of the last sad years of his father’s life. He found himself thinking of his father again, and the handsome worn face wavered behind his closed eyelids.

He didn’t ascribe to the theory that alcoholism ran in a family, but sometimes when he took a drink, he was reminded of how his alcoholic father had committed suicide.  Twenty-five years had passed since then but the pain still lingered. He had managed to forget the events of the last days of his father’s life but could not shake the guilt. He hadn’t seen it coming. Were there warning signs?
Nick knew his father blamed the twins for his wife’s death following their traumatic birth. Why did his father reach that irreversible conclusion that life was not worth living? 
The why had haunted Nick ever since his death, supported by the constant reminder in his mirrored reflection; the face that resembled his father, the same dark chocolate eyes, crinkled mischievously in each corner – the thing most people remarked upon, the same square jawline and the same rich brown hair. The complete picture was one of an extremely handsome face, a face demanding to be noticed. It was also an enigma to Nick why Brian’s appearance was completely opposite; although twins, they were very different. He had always had the unsubstantiated idea that a stranger had snuck into his mother’s hospital room with someone else’s baby. He also felt his father harboured the same suspicions, although he never showed it, and Brian certainly never questioned his parentage.

A loud knock on the cabin door startled him, and he swung his tired body off the bed and shivered as he reached for his lived-in shorts and T-shirt. It was Bosun with an urgent message from a fellow oceanographer in Alaska. He hurried to the radio room grateful to be roused from his troubled thoughts.

Chapter Two

The connection was quick.’G’day mate. This’s a surprise. What’s up?’

‘Nicky! Where are you?’ Wolf’s voice boomed. ‘We’ve got a big problem here and I need
Bunyip’s
sound surveillance system.’

Nobody called him Nicky, he quickly discouraged it, but from Wolf it sounded warm, almost paternal. Besides, who could tell Wolf what to do?  ‘I’m still at Mururoa. Christ Wolf, you’re not just ‘round the corner you know. It’d take me at least six days to get up there, and I’m due back in Washington. What the heck’s so urgent?’

‘Six days! ‘I just hope that’s not too late. I’m really worried, something’s cooking here!’ Wolf’s words came at a rush and his German accent grew heavy. ‘Seismic activity’s going off the scale. I want to get closer with your hydrophone system so I can get more accurate results.  Can you get up here fast?’

Wolf Drescher had been stationed in the Arctic region since 2025 when the world first began to reel under the Greenhouse effect and global warming. World temperatures had risen gradually; first there were mild winters, then warm winters, until finally winter was a past memory of generations, and unknown to those five years old. Greenland had been reduced to half her size and the polar caps began their slow melt soon after, like ice blocks left out of the refrigerator, flooding the oceans inch by inch until the sea began it’s march upon the unsuspecting land. Beaches and foreshores crumbled before it’s unending onslaught fifteen years ago, and men built ramparts to stem the flow that threatened every city on sea level. The battle had turned to a war and great cities were being evacuated.

Wolf had been keeping a close eye on the effects in the North Pole region and now he spoke of a new threat, one that Nick could not ignore, especially considering what he had found. Wolf was a scientist of the highest calibre, deeply respected and not one to exaggerate, so if he said he was worried, then it was cause for Nick to worry also.  He felt an uneasiness deep in his stomach and a nagging thought crawled across his brain.

‘You’re lucky Wolf, we’re all done here, I’ll get under way soon as I can.  I’ll need a day in Hawaii to refuel and take on supplies, then I should be there by say, um,Tuesday week, providing the weather stays calm.  Meanwhile why don’t you talk to Jeremy, give him something to feed into our computers.’

‘Thanks, Nicky. I knew I could count on you, I’ll be in touch. Roger and out.’’

Nick immediately organised a meeting with
Jeremy and
the scientists in the operations room, and when he arrived he found Jeremy at his usual place, huddled over his computer in the compact room that housed a mind boggling array of wall displays that had replaced cumbersome computers and their associated equipment. Each display was colour coded with Jeremy’s sophisticated system that required a science degree to comprehend.

‘What’s new with that Volcano in Iceland?’ Nick asked.

Jeremy hit a switch and a yellow display blinked, showing a high mountain with a ten kilometre caldera at it’s rugged peak. ‘We’re seeing a swarm of small cluster earthquakes surrounding Katla, some occurring every ten minutes. There she is, she’s showing a strong harmonic tremor pulse.’

Nick fingered his moustache. ‘Which means hydrothermal activity is on the move and increasing under the Myrdalsjokull Glacier, a clear sign Katla is warming up for an eruption.’

‘Yeah. Just another nail in the coffin’ Jeremy said. ‘
Bergsson
says she’s one of the most feared volcanoes. He flew over her recently and agreed she’s going to erupt.’

‘He’s that professor of geophysics at the Iceland Uni isn’t he?’ Nick squinted at the small text on the display. ‘I heard he’s the best.’

‘Yeah. I don’t think anyone would question him.’

‘That explains why Wolf’s so hyped up.’ Nick said.

Jeremy narrowed his toady eyes. ‘What’s Iceland got to do with it? That’s a long way from Unimak.’

‘I know, but it’s an indicator of more trouble in the North Atlantic Ocean, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard Wolf so rattled. He practically begged me to get up there.’

‘What! Are we’re going?’

‘Hell yeah, let’s get among the action.’ Nicked cracked a wide grin. ‘I asked Wolf to send you some info.’

Jeremy turned to another display. ‘I’m getting good readings from the seismic sensor below, so it’s working okay after that tremor.’ His voice raised in pitch. ‘That means we can leave anytime.’

Nick surveyed the room, and until now the other members of his team has remained silent, awaiting his orders. ‘I want an update on all the active volcanoes, so get to it boys. Keep Wolf informed until we get there.’ Nick gave Jeremy the thumbs up and strolled out onto the deck. The waters here were calm and the Navilon hood was open, so he leaned over the rail and gazed at the cobalt sea below. The soft slap of the ocean against the navy blue hull normally eased his mood, but not this time. A new anxiety pervaded his bones as he considered the ramifications of Wolf’s call.

Things were not shaping up for a congenial outcome. This investigation was turning sour and the crew won’t be happy about going to the cold country this time of year, and cold it will be, despite global warming, it’s still one of the coldest places on earth. Nick knew Sam will be disappointed, he enjoyed the endless summer of the tropics, and had planned to cool his heels in Tahiti while Nick grabbed a chance to fly home for a few days, something he hadn’t done in a long time. That would have to wait. Nick hated to let the men down, most of all Sam who had given his life to the job, he had deserved that break. His chewed his bottom lip and swallowed hard to push down the cork stuck in his neck, before leaning into the wheelhouse on the bridge.  ‘We’re going north to Alaska Sam!  Get underway when you can.’

Sam screwed up his face and his big lips formed a pinched circle. ‘Pffff. Are you jivin?  A spring vacation in Alaska?  Man that’s a switch from Tahiti. I’ll bet there’ll be some interestin’ sights up there.’ His mind was unable to relinquish the images of exotic island girls.  ‘Cuddlin’ up to a polar bear beats warm tropical nights - I’m sure!’
He added without humour.

‘Yeah. If you can find one of them,’ Nick added.

***

The twelve day trip north proved uneventful, broken only by a busy day in Hawaii, and the weather remained moderate with even swells.  Wolf had relayed the promised information, and Nick, despite growing more worried managed to catch up on some rest, whilst Jeremy had spent most of the journey running calculations on his computers and following the readings from the ERS2.