by Larry LaVoie
Chapter 2
Keck Observatory, Mauna Kea, Hawaii, May 4
It was well past midnight when Lisa Wilson picked up the phone and called Martin Downing at his apartment in Washington DC. She was well aware of the time and hoped his location in Washington would catch him as he was starting his day. “Martin, I have something you need to take a look at.”
“Good morning to you, too,” Martin said. “What time is it there, about closing time for the bars?”
“I haven’t been drinking,” Lisa said, putting up with his banter. She and Martin had been engaged, but she had broken it off when she found out, not only was he taking the job she had hoped for, but also would be her new boss. She was glad it hadn’t gone to another level. The man she had once thought she would marry was a terrible boss. Now she couldn’t imagine him as a husband, and worse, a father. “I found an asteroid that looks like it will cross Earth’s orbit and may qualify as an NEO.”
A NEO or Near-Earth Object wasn’t that uncommon and since NASA had started the program in 1998, thousands had been discovered and tagged. Only a few would be passing close enough to earth to be a threat. In 2017 an asteroid had missed earth by 27,000 miles passing seven times closer to the earth than the moon. “It must be on a collision course for you to wake me.” It was five hours later in Washington DC.
“I thought you’d be up. It’s going to come close,” Lisa said, “about two hundred fifty thousand miles.”
“So that’s the news. The talk shows won’t even headline it after 2012 TC4.” He was referring to an asteroid that had nearly collided with Antarctica. It was a near miss, but the public seemed to accept it without panic. The publicity was enough to renew the NASA budget though, and was the only reason he and Lisa were still employed. An asteroid passing as close as the moon wouldn’t merit page two in the Washington Post. As NASA’s spokesperson, the more thrilling they could make the news, the better for continued funding of the program.
“Something about this one is different,” Lisa said. “My calculations say it will pass by in seven months and eighteen days, possibly impacting the moon just before Christmas.”
There was a long pause before Martin spoke. He was thinking of a way he could spin this. A Christmas asteroid had a nice ring to it. “What’s its mass?”
“I haven’t got that far. It’s big though, over a mile in diameter and nearly spherical.”
“Okay, send me the data and I’ll have our people here look at it.”
“It’s on the way.”
“Lisa… good work. I’ll get back to you.”
She hung onto the phone a few seconds after he had hung up. She noticed her hands were trembling. She hoped her calculations were wrong. There were a hundred things that change the outcome: The orbit of the moon around the earth, the alignment of the earth, moon and sun, the elliptical path of the asteroid around the sun, its speed; there were so many variables. A decimal point out of place or a mistake in calculating the asteroid’s mass could make the difference between a hit or a miss. She hated to admit it, but Martin was right asking about its mass. It could make all the difference in the world. To get an accurate estimation of its mass, she needed a spectrographic analysis of its composition, but she lacked the equipment and would have to request it from one of the other NASA observatories. Most asteroids are made up of rocky minerals like olivine and silica, but some are denser and had a high concentration of metals such as iron and nickel. She had based her calculations on the most common elements found in asteroids. Martin would be able to use a satellite observatory to get the exact makeup of the asteroid. This would most likely change her calculations. She breathed a sigh of relief. An asteroid as large as a mile, no matter what it was made of, could be catastrophic. Her calculations had to be off enough for this asteroid to miss the moon. She took a deep breath and cursed. Why had she called Martin before accurately determining the asteroid’s mass?
***
Yellowstone National Park, May 4
“This will be the last of them,” Cody said to Doug Jennings, a graduate student who had just arrived to work with him through the summer. They had hiked up a steep trail in a remote area on Mt. Washburn to install the last portable GPS station. It was a tedious task and Cody had considered skipping placement of some of the stations due to a shortage of help, but Doug’s arrival a week early made the installations possible, and would assure ten years of continuous records of the ground movement throughout the caldera. It was a daunting mission to keep track of the movement of the earth’s crust within the caldera of the super volcano that made up a majority of Yellowstone Park’s 3,450 square miles. In the past week, the snow had stopped falling, allowing them to gain access to areas where GPS sensors could not survive the harsh winters. Each station was placed in a location known to have a history of ground movement. Precise location of the station was necessary so the records from past years could be tracked.
Each station consisted of a satellite antenna, an altimeter, a GPS coordinate locator, a solar battery and an FM antenna to transmit data back to a central station in Cody’s office. The stations were extremely sensitive and had to be removed each winter and re-installed every spring. “I appreciate the help,” Cody said. “I know it’s not why you signed up to spend your last semester of school here.”
“I’m killing time until Melissa Grainger arrives,” Doug said, removing a light-gray suitcase containing the station components. He set the suitcase down beside Cody’s Jeep. “She’s arriving next Monday. “
“I saw her name on the list. Arizona State. How did you two meet?”
“On line. She’s interested in the same field of study as me and it fit with your curriculum, so I encouraged her to volunteer for the summer. You get some extra help, I get help with the data I need for my Doctorate, a win-win for everyone.”
“I like the way you think,” Cody said. “We can always use the help.”
“Tell me about this system we’re installing,” Doug said. He strapped the suitcase on his back. Cody removed a tripod and some tools, stuffed the tools in his backpack and they started up a steep trail.
“I’d like to have a year-around network of GPS stations, but because of the harsh environment, earthquakes, landslides and heavy snowfall, we install and take down about fifteen of these stations every year. They add to the permanent network so we can get an accurate picture of the ground movement within the caldera. The problem is it takes a lot of manpower to put them up and take them down every year. Getting volunteers to do this kind of work is getting more difficult each year and my budget can’t support hiring professionals.”
They stopped on the trail. “Look over there,” Cody said, lifting his binoculars and pointing to the valley below them.
Green lakes of grass surrounded by snow were being foraged by a herd of hungry buffalo. A pack of wolves were creeping out of the trees trying to get close enough to attack.
“They aren’t any match for a bison,” Cody said. “They are after that calf on the edge of the herd.”
They watched for a few minutes. “Doesn’t look like the wolves are going to win,” Doug said.
They passed the field glasses back and forth, fascinated, as the herd circled the calf their huge heads facing outward against the approaching threat. No wolf was going to face the wrath of an angry buffalo.
“Come on we need to finish this before nightfall,” Cody said, grabbing the tripod and antenna. The air was pure and crisp with a slight scent of pine. “Smell that air. I love this time of year.”
At the snowline, in a patch of fireweed under a forest of blackened trees from a fire in years past, Cody took another GPS reading and marked the spot where they would install the portable equipment.
“It’s going to be a busy summer,” Doug said on the way back. They were in Cody’s Jeep. Ahead of them traffic was backing up as a huge motorhome pulled off the main road into the Old Faithful Geyser visitor’s area.
“Get used to it. If you have to go
anywhere in the park, it’s best to do it early in the morning, or after dark.”
“What’s it like in the winter?” Doug asked.
“Peaceful. Sometimes it’s so quiet you can hear your heart beat. Personally, it’s my favorite time. I hate to leave to teach winter term.”
“You said this is your favorite time,” Doug said, smiling. He suspected every time of year was Cody’s favorite, as long as he was in Yellowstone.
“Except for the traffic. We don’t have traffic in winter.”
“You have snow in Idaho.”
“It’s not the same. It does get lonely though. Yellowstone in the middle of winter isn’t a place for city wimps.” Cody laughed. “Not many could make it through the winters here.”
“Count me as one of them,” Doug said. “I’m going to try and get placed in a milder climate: Maybe the Cascades or Malaysia.”
“There are plenty of places to choose from,” Cody said. “I’ve seen a lot of them. It took a lot of begging to get here. Of all the volcanoes in the world, I think this is the best, hands down.”
They made slow progress caught behind a string of early visitors to the park. “I have two more students arriving tomorrow,” Cody said pulling closer to a van. He had been watching the van closely and had determined it was occupied by an elderly couple. He shook his head as the van stopped to watch a mother bear with two cubs lumber alongside of the road.
“Don’t do it,” Cody shouted, leaning on the horn.
The passenger in the van was holding out a sandwich trying to entice the bear to come closer so she could get a picture of it. It raised its head and sniffed the air and ran toward the free food.
“Jesus, people are stupid,” Cody said, still leaning on the horn.
The driver of the van got out and started walking back toward Cody. Cody rolled down his window. “Get back in your vehicle and control your passenger,” Cody yelled. “She’s going to get you all killed.”
“I paid to get in this park. I’ll do all the sightseeing I want.” The man looked to be retirement age, but in good health. His gray hair flowed out from under a green hat with Yellowstone National Park in white letters embroidered on it.
Cody kept one eye on the bear. “Is that your wife?” He could see the man was angry and wanted to defuse the tension, but the man was clearly putting himself in danger being exposed and his passenger was enticing a grizzly large enough to kill either of them with one swipe of its paw.
“What?”
“The woman who’s trying to get her hand bitten off.”
The warning was too late. The bear lunged. The woman pulled the sandwich inside and tried to raise the window. With one swipe, the bear shattered the window. The man, startled by the sound, turned from Cody and ran toward the side of his van where his wife was screaming. The grizzly rose up on its hind feet towering above the man. The man froze.
“Shit,” Cody said. He grabbed a canister of bear repellant, a powerful type of pepper spray the park rangers carried. It didn’t always work, but as a last resort, it was worth a try. He jumped out and ran toward the bear spraying a stream of repellant. The spray hit its mark. The bear made a swipe at his face with its front leg, dropped down, and ran away. Cody pushed the man aside and checked on the woman. She was frightened but otherwise not injured. Two of the windows on the passenger side of the van were shattered.
“Get the hell back on the road,” Cody said. He couldn’t remember ever being this angry.
“Who’s going to pay for the damage?” the man protested. “I’ll sue.”
“I should turn you in for violating park rules,” Cody said. “You endangered your wife and others in the park.”
“Hey, it wasn’t my fault.”
Cody got in the man’s face, grabbed his shirt and pulled him close to him. “You get back in your vehicle right now or I’ll kick your ass up between your shoulder blades.”
He shoved the man away.
“I’m going to report you.”
“For what, saving your sorry ass? This isn’t a zoo.”
The man backed off and got back in his van. Cody turned back to his Jeep. He looked around. A crowd of people had gotten out of their cars, some with their cell phones had been recording the confrontation.
“Get back in your vehicles,” Cody said. The van raced off leaving Cody’s vehicle blocking the road. Cody put the Jeep in gear and started up the road. “It’s a wonder some people make it out of puberty alive,” he said.
“That guy was clueless,” Doug said. “He should have known better.”
Cody sighed. “I love winter in the park.”
The next day a ranger stopped by Cody’s office. Cody figured it was regarding the incident with the bear. “How can I help you?”
“Cody, we’ve had an incident in the Back Basin and need you there before we remove the bodies.”
Cody grabbed his coat. “What happened?”
“A family; all dead. It looks like they were overcome by fumes just past Steamboat.”
Back Basin is a portion of the Norris Geyser Basin and Steamboat Geyser is the tallest geyser in the world. It sometimes goes fifty years between major eruptions, so it isn’t a main attraction for the casual visitor to Yellowstone. The Back Basin Trail is a 1.75 mile loop passing by several hot springs and geysers. Cody knew the area well.
They passed by the edge of Emerald Spring, a dazzling pool surrounded by yellow sulfur deposits contributing to its gem-like iridescence, but they didn’t pause to admire its beauty. They continued along the path through pine trees and past Steamboat Geyser, which was billowing steam in a minor eruption. They reached a spot on the boardwalk that had been cordoned off. A ranger was standing guard.
“This is Dr. Street the Park Geologist,” the ranger said. “Chief Nelson sent for him.”
“Hey, Cody.”
“Good to see you, Bill. Anything I should know?”
“They were on the walkway. Got overcome by fumes, I think coming from Cistern Spring. The area has been checked and is safe now, but our officers needed gas masks when they first arrived.”
“Okay, I’ll have a look.” From where they were standing he couldn’t see anything. He ducked beneath the tape and continued down the path where five park personnel were standing over four bodies. An EMT was standing by with a respirator. It was clear she was too late for those on the ground and may be standing by as a precaution.
“Cody,” Chief Ranger Eric Nelson said, seeing Cody approach.
“How can I help?” Cody asked.
“It appears they were all overcome by gas. We were too late. The hiker who found them ran back to the visitor center and contacted us. According to the ranger at the visitor center, they came through about two hours ago.”
Cody looked at the four bodies. A woman and a man with two young children, a boy about six and a girl maybe three or four. He thought of his sister and his niece and nephew. Tears came to his eyes.
Chapter 3
Yellowstone National Park, June 3
The call came at three in the afternoon. Cody had spent the early part of the day with three students in the Lower Geyser Basin showing them how to install new measuring equipment that would record water temperature and acidity levels and send the data wirelessly back to his office. He had just returned to his office. He checked the ID of the caller and saw it was his cousin, Ray Street. He knew Ray had returned to the states and they had agreed to get together on his leave, but it was a busy time of year and Cody couldn’t get away. They were the same age and had spent their younger years like brothers spending the summers at each other’s house, but after high school, Ray joined the Marines and Cody started his first year at U of I. It seemed they had less in common and were growing apart. He took the call.
“Ray, this is Cody. What’s up?”
“Cody, this is Uncle Buck.” Buck’s real name was Charles, but Cody had known him as Uncle Buck for as long as he could remember. No one in the family remembered how he had g
ot the nickname, although his father claimed it was because of his older brother’s predominant buck teeth when he was a child.
“Buck, I’ll bet you want me to come and take Ray off your hands for a few days. How’s he doing?”
“That’s why I’m calling.” There was a long pause. “Ray was involved in a hit and run accident. He’s in the hospital. The doctors don’t expect him to make it.”
Cody held his breath. “My God, I’m sorry.”
“He was riding his old ten-speed on the bike path in Newport and a car came around the corner and clipped him. We thought he was okay, but he started having problems. He was injured internally… I think he would like to see you.”
“I’ll catch the first plane out,” Cody said.
Cody arranged to catch a ride with Elliott Post, one of the bush pilots that contracted with the US Postal Service to fly in mail daily to the park. He called Catherine at the Post Office and she promised to detain him until he could make it back in town from his cabin. He had seen Catherine and Elliott sharing coffee a few times and it was obvious they were fond of each other. He had never pried any deeper than that, but had noticed the small plane sitting overnight on the park airstrip a few times after an afternoon delivery. There was talk the two of them were spending a lot of time in the Mammoth Hotel bar. When Catherine didn’t question him, he figured there was more to it than he had first thought.
Cody grabbed a carry-on bag with a few changes of clothing, tossed some unopened mail in and raced to the airstrip in his Jeep. He contacted Elliott by cell on the way in and Elliott already had the plane warmed up when he parked his Jeep at the end of the airstrip. Elliott’s plane was the only one there. A small helicopter that Cody used from time to time sat in a hangar next to where he parked. It took only a few minutes to get buckled in the copilot seat before Elliott lifted off into the evening sky.
