by Dave Edlund
“Ahh. Your ‘insurance policy.’ Isn’t that what you called it?”
“I have found that it is best to plan for all possible contingencies, however unlikely, in order to secure the desired outcome.”
“Yes, I am sure you are right, Grigory. Do not worry, I will send authorization to the submarine captain. Is that all, my friend?”
“Just one more item, if I may?”
“One more small item, I trust?”
“It concerns President Garza and his advisors. As you know, he seems to draw endless pleasure from antagonizing the Americans. I do not trust him. We should be cautious in our dealings with him as we reach our goals.”
“Do not worry about Enrique Garza. I can handle him, don’t you think? Besides, I have plans for the Garza regime. The government of Venezuela can still serve our needs.”
Grigory feared that his warning was being brushed aside. “But sir, I strongly encourage—”
He was cut off mid-sentence. “Trust me. Now, if that is all, I must send the coded message to our intrepid submarine captain, and then I have other business to attend. Report to me when the mission is completed.” And the line went dead.
Chapter 10
September 26
Chernabura Island, West Side
Murph pushed back the blanket and stretched, still groggy from having slept only four hours on the sofa. He and Davis had taken shifts throughout the night so that one of them was always awake and on guard. Slowly Murph sat up and nudged his 12-gauge under the sofa with his foot. He inhaled deeply. “Mmmm… coffee and bacon! Sure does smell good, and I’m starving!”
As Davis had the last watch of the night, it was natural that he was already cooking a hearty breakfast. Murphy expected the others to invade the kitchen at any moment and drain the coffee pot, so he quickly poured a cup and added his requisite amount of sugar and cream. Once satisfied that his beverage was the perfect shade of tan, he took a sip, indulging in the wonderful flavor. Nothing was quite as good as hot coffee first thing in the morning, he thought.
“Anything unusual happen while I was out?” Murph asked followed by a long, slow, slurping sip from his cup. Davis shook his head without averting his attention from the bacon he was flipping in a large cast-iron frying pan.
“Think the military intel is any good?”
Davis glanced at Murphy and answered in a low voice so as not to be overheard. “I can’t say… never heard of Colonel Pierson and his outfit. And someone would have to go to a lot of trouble just to get here. I mean, this island is remote. I can think of dozens of easier places to carry out a hit on the professors if I was the one planning it.”
“Yeah, I hear you,” agreed Murphy. “Still, we have our orders. Let’s stick with the same routine today and then re-evaluate tonight.”
Just then Karen Bailey and Professor Savage emerged from their separate rooms, following the delicious aroma like two bloodhounds on a scent trail. Karen grabbed an empty cup and filled it with coffee. The professor was a tea man and set to boiling a small pot of water on the stove.
“Good morning, gentlemen, Karen,” he said. “I hope you found my son’s cabin comfortable last night.”
Although the professor would not easily admit it, he loved this place. It reminded him of his younger days, backpacking with his buddies in the Sierra Nevada range between terms at UC Berkeley. Then it was easier to get away from crowds of people. Now you had to travel to the far corners of the earth to find solitude.
“Good morning, Professor,” said Davis as he flipped several strips of golden-brown bacon. “Just about done with breakfast—scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, toast, coffee. I see you’re a tea drinker. I’ll remember that tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, nonsense. I’m more than capable of preparing a pot of tea. And thank you for cooking; it smells delicious!”
While Murph and Karen began setting the table with napkins, plates, and forks, Sato-san walked into the kitchen and joined in conversation with Professor Savage. They had become good friends over their many years of collaboration, although they only saw each other one or two times a year.
Sato-san was a renowned professor at Tokyo Institute of Technology, and he had taken an instant liking to Ian Savage when they first met at a technical conference many years ago. Professor Savage had presented a paper on his ideas that hydrocarbons could be naturally formed by inorganic reactions deep within the Earth’s mantle.
At the time Sato-san was a young assistant professor at Tokyo Institute of Technology. His interest was applied mathematics, and he saw in Professor Ian Savage’s theories an opportunity to apply chemical thermodynamics to test those theories. Even then, the idea that petroleum and gas could be formed by inorganic reactions was not a new concept, Sato-san knew very well. But no one had been able to offer any credible hypotheses as to how oil could be formed deep inside the earth.
Professor Savage was not altruistic about his ideas. In fact, Sato-san recalled he was more excited about possible funding from NASA and did not seem that interested in how his work might impact conventional beliefs about terrestrial petroleum and gas formation. NASA was just beginning to get detailed data on Saturn’s moons. How could such bodies be covered in methane, ethane, and other hydrocarbons? Conventional theories said that decomposed plant and animal material was the source of simple and complex hydrocarbons.
Sato-san had found himself excited and energized by this paper. The author was obviously a courageous man to offer up such unconventional ideas for peer scrutiny. Sato-san had introduced himself, and they talked for hours that first day about Savage’s ideas that inorganic reactions, carried out at high temperature and pressure, could yield organic products.
“After all,” Professor Savage had said, “hydrocarbons are simple compounds of carbon and hydrogen arranged in an almost endless variety of configurations. Geology provides the basic ingredients— various mineral carbonates, such as calcium carbonate, are a ready source of carbon, and the most obvious source of hydrogen is water, since it is both abundant and ubiquitous.”
“But haven’t other researchers thoroughly examined the reaction kinetics and thermodynamics?” Sato-san asked. “The theory of abiogenic oil production is not new, of course. I agree that it is widely discredited, but there are those who subscribe to the theory.”
“Sure, there is slowly growing support for the idea that oil and gas are not only formed from organic precursors. As you have pointed out, a few groups have examined the thermodynamics of conventional, or biogenic, petroleum formation theory and found it cannot be supported by any known chemical equilibrium. So indirectly, this lends support to alternative theories.”
“That is very interesting. So there are two general theories for oil formation: biogenic and abiogenic. The biogenic theory suggests that petroleum and gas are formed at shallow depths by decomposition of organic material. Yes?”
“Yes,” replied Professor Savage.
“But the competing theory of abiogenic oil formation has not been tested by thermodynamic analysis?”
“Correct.”
“Ahh. That interests me very much. My work is in the field of applied mathematics, and I am especially interested in chemical kinetics and thermodynamics. Perhaps we can collaborate and gain a better understanding of the abiogenic theory?” Sato-san was clearly excited about the prospects of working with Professor Savage and applying a theoretical depth to his experimental work.
Professor Savage liked Sato-san. He was a pleasant man and quickly understood what had been presented as new material. Perhaps even more important, Sato-san did not exhibit any biases or preconceptions about his radical ideas. They just might make a good team, Professor Savage agreed. And that was the beginning of a long friendship and a collaboration that had yielded an impressive number of papers and helped to secure the academic careers of both men.
As Davis continued cooking, Sato-san and Professor Savage ambled into the great room and sat on the hearth, absorbing the li
ngering remnants of warmth from the previous night’s fire.
“If I remember correctly, it has been about two years since Peter’s wife died. How is he doing?” asked Sato-san.
“He seems to be getting along all right, I suppose. At first, it was very hard for him. He and Maggie were inseparable. But Peter has focused his energy on his work, which he has always enjoyed.”
Kenji Sato nodded. “I can see that Peter is driven, like you Ian-san.” He smiled. “But he does not joke or laugh very much. I remember he used to do that a lot.”
“When Maggie died, something inside Peter died, too. He feels somehow responsible for not being able to help her.”
“You and I know that does not make sense. There was nothing he could do, and nothing the doctors could do, based on what you told me. Fate had claimed his wife—one cannot fight fate.”
“My son doesn’t easily give up, and he most certainly does not believe in fate. Peter thinks he can control the world around him.”
Sato-san nodded understanding.
“In the months following Maggie’s death,” Professor Savage continued, “Peter was withdrawn and depressed. He struggled out of it, but he definitely changed. Sometimes when I talk to him, I see an edge—a hardness—that wasn’t there before. It can be frightening. I wouldn’t want to cross him. He sees things differently now—more black and white rather than shades of gray.”
Sato was listening intently to Professor Savage, and after a moment his eyes brightened just a bit, betraying a sudden insight. “Yes, I see that too. Perhaps he is like the samurai of my ancestors. Perhaps Peter was born with a warrior’s spirit and now it is surfacing. He is a man whose spirit chooses to follow Bushido—the code of the samurai.”
“I don’t understand. What is Bushido?”
Sato-san contemplated the question, pausing for a moment as he searched for the right words. “It is difficult to explain in terms you would understand. You can think of it as analogous to chivalry, but much more complex. Bushido is a collection of the moral principles that governed the actions of the samurai. They lived and died by this code of honor.
“It is tempting to remember the samurai only as fierce and skilled warriors… and they were. But they were also benevolent, gentle, and compassionate, especially to those who could not protect themselves—children, women, the elderly.”
“But that’s not Peter’s world. He’s not a warrior; he’s an engineer and a businessman.”
“You speak of the man, but I speak of the spirit.”
“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
“A man’s spirit is the truest form of his being. It can be masked, but in times of hardship and stress, it will surface. Peter’s despair over the loss of his wife has unmasked his spirit. Maybe you are seeing your son as his spirit was born, in his true nature, rather than as he has chosen to present himself to others.”
Professor Savage nodded, but he had no response. His good friend had offered a perspective that had never occurred to him. He loved his son and silently grieved for him and his loss—a loss that he knew Peter still felt every day.
By this time, everyone had risen and the group was informally assembling in the kitchen. Murph and Davis were wise to fill their coffee cups when they did. The second pot was brewing, and people were beginning to find seats at the table. Junichi had joined Sato-san, and they were talking softly in Japanese.
Sato-san said, “Junichi has not stayed at a rustic cabin in the forest before.”
“This is much different than how we live in Tokyo,” Junichi added.
Harry nodded. “Well, you won’t find accommodations this comfortable in Boston either.” Junichi smiled but didn’t fully comprehend the joke. “How about you, Daren? Given your time in Colorado, I’d imagine you spent time in the Rockies.”
“Oh sure, every chance I had. We mostly backpacked though, you know, roughing it. I would have killed for a warm, comfortable cabin on some of those trips.”
Davis and Karen brought platters of food to the table and then sat down. Plates were filled and platters passed around the table. For a few minutes, everyone was quiet, mouths filled with hot, tasty food.
Professor Savage finally broke the silence. “Okay. I think everyone more or less got their bearings yesterday. At least I hope you did. The beach where we landed is to the west. Remember, this is an island. That means it’s surrounded by water.” He smiled at his sarcasm, but he wanted to make a point for the students.
“If you get turned around… lost… don’t panic. You are all smart adults. Just walk far enough in any direction, and you will run into the ocean. Worst case, follow the edge of the island and you will eventually end up at the landing beach. I don’t want anyone spending a night in the forest because they failed to think. Still, make sure you are always carrying your rain parka and basic survival gear, especially matches, lighter, and lighter fluid. Dry clothes and a fire are the best ways to ward off hypothermia.”
Karen, Junichi, and Harry chuckled and were just a bit self-conscious. They knew that those instructions were mostly directed at the three of them. Harry was from the Boston metropolitan area, Junichi from Tokyo, and Karen from Atlanta. They were all young, and none had spent any substantial amount of time in the woods.
They continued to eat and sip their coffee. All were enjoying the hearty breakfast, even more so since Davis alone had risen early and prepared the meal. Although Junichi and Sato-san were not fully accustomed to a western-style breakfast, they showed no hesitation about partaking in the selection prepared for them.
Professor Savage continued, “The island is not large—about five miles north to south and maybe a bit more than two miles wide. There may be hunters on the island, although it’s unlikely. This is National Forest land, and on rare occasions hunters and fishermen will come here in pursuit of game.
“You will be working in pairs. Sato-san and I feel that you will learn much from each other, so we will be rotating assignments and partners.”
Professor Sato, in his quiet, confident voice, chimed in. “Our objective is to gather additional mineral specimens today and begin work on a geological assessment of the underlying crust. We will need to place the seismic charges precisely to gain the maximum benefit. Understand that we have less than two weeks to complete our work. The samples and seismic data are very important to the continuation of our research.”
Karen asked, “Professor, I’m new to your research group and I’m learning a lot, but I don’t fully understand what we expect to learn from the seismic data.”
“This island—in fact all of the Aleutian Island chain—is located along the edge of the North America tectonic plate. The Pacific plate is being drawn under the edge of the North American plate about 26 miles south of here.
“Based on the thermodynamic modeling done by Professor Sato, we know that it is possible for certain mineral carbonates to be reduced by hydrogen to hydrocarbons. The seismic data will allow us to map the underlying rock density, for comparison to what is thought to be true on Titan.”
Professor Savage studied Karen’s reaction and facial expressions as she considered this. He believed that the best way to teach a willing student was to feed incomplete bits of information—just enough to nudge the thought process another step or two. He wanted to foster the manufacture of ideas by his students, not merely train them to parrot his own thinking.
“Yes, I understand the general theory. But since the thermo calcs already show the reactions are possible, why do we need to gather rock samples?”
“Good question, Karen. Harry, please continue.”
Harry put down his fork, slightly annoyed at being interrupted from his appointment with a plate piled with scrambled eggs and hash browns. “Sure. Water is the most likely source of hydrogen. Water gets pulled down with the subducting plate to great depths and extremely high temperatures, and in the presence of a catalyst, it reacts with carbonate-based minerals to yield simple and complex hydrocarbons. T
hermodynamics does not speak to reaction rates—if rates are too slow, then some type of catalyst is needed.”
Murph and Davis were now totally lost. They had been sort of following the discussion, but then Harry spoke and lost them both.
“Or,” Professor Savage paused for emphasis, “the reactions may very well occur at an exceedingly slow pace, requiring millions of years to yield substantial bodies of oil and gas. But the bigger question is whether carbonates were ever present on Titan. We know water is there.”
“We do not fully understand the mechanism for the reduction step,” added Professor Sato. “It could be a direct reduction by water associated with formation of carbon dioxide, or it could be a multi-step process, wherein water is first reduced to hydrogen, followed by mineral-carbonate reduction to hydrocarbons. Resolving this question is one of the goals we plan to achieve this winter, and it is why we are seeking specific rock samples.”
Just then, Murph noticed through the window a lone man walking purposefully toward the front door. He was wearing blue jeans and a light-weight camo jacket. The jacket was open and underneath Murph noticed he wore a black and red plaid shirt. The man walked onto the porch and knocked on the door.
Davis and Murph looked at each other, not saying a word; Davis raised his eyebrows slightly and Murph responded by shrugging his shoulders. Professor Savage had been deep in the discussion and failed to even notice the man approaching.
Murph pushed his chair back and got up from the table, speaking softly to Davis, “Probably just a lost hunter, but watch my back… just in case.”
“Sure thing, buddy. But if he wants the last of the bacon, tell him it’s already spoken for.”
Murph walked to the door. Everyone was quiet now, startled at the unexpected sound of the knock at the door.
Jack Murphy opened the door and was face to face with a chunky, muscular man with bleached-blond hair. The man smiled and said, “Good morning.” And before Murph could answer, the man pulled a pistol from behind his back, pressed the barrel against the middle of Murph’s chest, and pulled the trigger.
