The Flaming Mountain: A Rick Brant Science-Adventure Story

by Harold L. Goodwin

  CHAPTER IV

  Seismic Tracings

  Ruiz, the short, friendly San Luzian, was not dead, but he was onlybarely alive. Within a half hour he was on his way to the hospital atCalor, crushed and unconscious.

  Brad Connel was badly shaken. "I thought he was behind me," thegeologist explained. "But he had gone back to check the cap connection.At least, that's what he must have gone back for. I fired, then turnedaround, and he wasn't there. He was blown fifty feet at least. If only Ihad checked! But he was there with me, and I just kept my eye on thechronometer. He didn't say anything. He just walked off."

  There was nothing much to be said. It was the kind of accident thatseems absolutely senseless. Both Connel and Ruiz were old hands withexplosives, yet the San Luzian apparently had wandered back to thecharge just as it went off.

  Rick and Scotty walked toward the hot springs behind the hotel andtalked it over.

  "Pretty stupid thing for anyone to do," Scotty said soberly.

  Rick agreed. "Especially an old hand. Ruiz was supposed to beexperienced, but I can't imagine how a veteran could pull a stunt likethat."

  It made absolutely no sense. Ruiz spoke English. Rick knew that from hisconversation with the San Luzian. So he must have known Connel wascounting down, getting ready to push the plunger home. Why would he walkinto the blast, unless he was tired of living? But he didn't believeRuiz would try to get himself killed deliberately. The little San Luzianhad seemed like a sane, happy individual.

  Rick gave up. Maybe when Connel calmed down a little he could shed morelight on the accident. "The smell from the springs is getting prettystrong," Scotty remarked.

  It certainly was. The wind had been from the hotel toward the hotsprings most of the day, and the odor hadn't been bad. Now, in thevicinity of the springs, it was making Rick's eyes water and his nosesmart.

  "Think we can get close enough for a look?" Rick asked.

  "We can try. There's the building ahead."

  A cement walk led from the hotel to the springs, rising up a gradualincline that was not too steep for wheel chairs, or for the elderly. Theboys had heard that many invalids had come here, to bathe in the hotsprings, to drink the mineral water, and to soak in warm mud.

  "How'd you like a nice hot mud bath?" Rick asked.

  Scotty grinned. "Can't say it appeals to me, but there must be somethingto it. There are mud baths and hot springs in Europe, too. With plentyof customers."

  Rick took out his handkerchief and dried eyes that were watering fromthe fumes. He doubted that the gases were good for them, but he wascurious. He wanted to see where the volcano would blow its top, if itwas going to.

  In spite of the irritating fumes, they persisted and got a quick look atthe former health area. There was a series of pools for bathers, rangingfrom big ones for large groups to individual tublike affairs, all nicelytiled. There was one area of mud baths. Rick had an impression of twoareas, one of bubbling mud, the other of steaming water. It was enough.The boys turned and got out of there.

  Back at the hotel, the scientists were working. All were present, exceptfor Brad Connel, who had asked to be excused. He was in his room,apparently still badly upset over the accident.

  Dr. Jeffrey Williams had obtained a large sheet of paper and hadsketched an outline of the volcano and the earth under it as seen incross section. As Hartson Brant read off data from the day's tracings,Dr. Williams plotted points far underground. Now and then he connectedpoints, or put in a light line.

  Rick and Scotty watched with interest. The tracings meant nothing tothem; analysis was a job for trained scientists. But Dr. Williams wasslowly producing a picture on the paper.

  "That's all," Hartson Brant said finally. "How does it look, Jeff?"

  The seismologist shook his head. "Not good." He held his pencil almostflat to the paper and began shading in an area bounded by the points hehad made. "According to what we have, this is the shape of a magmafront." He drew in other lines, rising vertically through the earth intothe volcano. "Apparently these discontinuities indicate old channels,now filled in. Notice that the magma is not following the originalchannels. This seems to confirm what Esteben has been telling us."

  The volcanologist nodded. "It seems to. Jeff, do you have any doubtabout this area being magma?"

  "I'm afraid not. The data fits. Of course it's still pretty far belowthe surface."

  Rick could see that the ominous shading was nearly twice as farunderground as the top of the volcano was above sea level.

  Julius Weiss spoke up. "The next step is to find out how fast the magmais rising."

  "A series of shots every day for the next few days should tell us that,"Hartson Brant agreed. "Hobart, you've been pretty quiet. Any comments?"

  "None of any importance," the big physicist boomed. "Only this: what canwe possibly do about a situation like this?"

  Hartson Brant shrugged. "I don't know. At least we can keep track of themagma."

  David Riddle, the geologist, added, "It will allow time to warn thepopulation. I can see no other means of saving them except to get themoff the island."

  Rick had reached the same conclusion. It didn't take a scientist torealize the gravity of the situation. El Viejo was getting ready forsomething big, unless the magma subsided. Since no one was really sureabout the physics of volcanology, no one had a good guess why thevolcanic action had begun again. No one could be sure it would notdecrease, either.

  "This picture is pretty rough," Dr. Williams said. "I'll refine it alittle after dinner, Hartson. It will give us a better basis forplotting tomorrow's results."

  "Good idea," Hartson Brant agreed. "And speaking of dinner, it's abouttime. Let's wash up and meet in the dining room in a half hour."

  "Better call Brad Connel," Zircon said. "I know how upset he must be,but it will be better if he joins us and eats something."

  Rick and Scotty returned to their room and washed for dinner. Both werequiet. The appearance of the magma under them, almost like a mushroomcloud in shape, was pretty ominous. Like sitting on a volcano, Rickthought. It was the most appropriate expression he could think of. Nowonder the earth had split.

  Scotty mused aloud. "Rock. Melting like butter on a stove. Thousands oftons of it. Makes you appreciate natural forces, doesn't it?"

  "Even hydrogen bombs are pretty feeble by comparison," Rick agreed. "Itmakes me uneasy to think of all that stuff boiling up under us."

  "I caught myself looking down a couple of times," Scotty said with agrin. "I wouldn't be surprised to see steam coming up through the rug."

  Rick consulted his watch. "Maybe food will make us feel better. Come on.It's about time."

  The scientific party was alone in the hotel, except for a reduced staff.The governor had made arrangements for the hotel to operate so that thevisitors could have service. Rick almost wished they had stayed at abeach hotel with other people around them. The huge resort was like anabandoned city, with a few ghosts left in it.

  They walked through the conference room on their way into dinner andfound Connel looking over the sketch Williams had made. He looked up asthey entered and greeted them casually.

  "Hello, Rick, Scotty. I see we do have magma below us."

  "That's what Dr. Williams said," Rick agreed. "How do you feel, Mr.Connel?"

  The geologist shrugged. "How can I feel? Ruiz was--is--a nice littleguy. I still don't know what happened, why he should walk back to thecharge. I was concentrating on getting the charge off on time, and therewas no reason for him to go back."

  "You said he went to check the cap connection," Scotty reminded.

  "It's the only reason I can think of, and it isn't a very good one. Hemade the connection himself. Maybe he wanted another quick look."

  The geologist transferred his attention back to the sketch. "The stuffis still pretty far down. Good thing, too. That will give time forevacuating the island. We've probably got several months yet."

  The subject wasn't brought up during dinner, but
over coffee EstebenBalgos commented, "We must keep the governor informed. Jeff, if you willlend me your sketch, I'll take it to the Executive Mansion first thingin the morning and bring it back before we begin shooting. I think thegovernor will want to start planning for evacuation, if he has not yetdone so."

  Williams nodded. "Help yourself, Esteben. I'll probably have the sketchin my room. Knock on the door in the morning if you want it."

  The talk turned to heat-transfer mechanisms in the earth, and from thereto the whole problem of solar-energy input and outflow. The subject wasnot one in which Rick had any background, and it wasn't long before helost interest. Besides, he was still tired from the trip, and the day'sevents had added their own burden of fatigue.

  Scotty yawned, and Rick took the opportunity to suggest, "Let's go tobed."

  "I'm with you."

  The boys excused themselves and in a short time were settled down forthe night. Rick fell asleep almost instantly.

  He awoke with Scotty shouting in his ear. "Let's go, Rick! Trouble!"

  Rick was on his feet, into trousers and shoes before he was fully awake.Scotty had already dashed into the corridor. Rick joined him and therest of the scientists, who were standing in a group in front of JeffreyWilliams' room. The white-haired scientist was holding a handkerchief toa bloody bruise on his head. Rick hurried up just in time to hear himtell the group:

  "I don't know what happened. My door wasn't locked, so anyone could havecome in. I didn't see a soul. I must have dozed off."

  "What's going on?" Rick demanded.

  His father answered. "Someone came into Jeff's room and slugged him,apparently while he was dozing over the tracings. Both the tracings andthe sketch are gone!"