2042: The Great Cataclysm

by Melisande Mason

  He poured himself a nip of scotch, swirled the glass in his hand and thought,what the heck, 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’sImagine, 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.

  Using radar interferometry they were able to view changes and movement below the earth’s surface by observing the fringes of the images projected from fourteen satellites in space. The ERS proved a reliable tool in predicting earthquakes, and it was this equipment that first alerted Nick to the unusual patterns in the area surrounding Hawaii and Tahiti.

  They knew they were nearing the Aleutian Islands and their destination of Unimak, when two days out the weather took a turn for the worst, and the crew readied their wet weather clothing.

  Once the Navilon hood was opened, foam would slush across the deck like snow until it became a no-go zone. Grim faced men hauled out safety harnesses and hung them by the exit doors, as no-one had to be told of the dangers of falling overboard in the icy sea.

  Clouds deepened and a heavy leaden hue pulled a curtain over the light from the sky. Nick and Sam peered through the wheelhouse window at a sea that had been growing more angry by the hour. Frosty white caps fringed the tops of the black waves as they peaked and sloughed into deep troughs, and the biting northerly wind whipped the ship in it’s a nasty frenzy. The island loomed ahead like a misty dark grey fortress, bleak and barren with little vegetation visible. Nothing but a formidable coastline of blackish blue rocks, dominated by the Shishaldon Volcano towering over the ice-locked reaches, it’s elongated fingers of cooled lava threatening to call out it’s fire demons any moment. It was a dramatic, chilling contrast to Tahiti.

  Once suited up the men moved to the exit and Sam opened the rear section of the Navilon hood. Dimethyl sulphide, the distinctive smell of the ocean hit their senses like a sledge hammer. Sam hugged his elbows. ‘Man o’man! Who’d want t’ live in this mis’rable place? I’d forgotten what it’s like to be cold, it’s still bloody freezing here.’

  Nick cupped his hands to his mouth and puffed a stream of warm air over his tingling fingertips. ‘Beats me. Even the Russians hate it! They call it the Roof of Hell because of all the active volcanoes. There’s so many here, and any one of them could blow this end of the world apart. Arhh...you reckon this’s freezing, you should’ve been here five years ago, it’s warmed some since then.’

  Wolf had warned them the landing wharf at Unimak had broken up last year, and getting onto the island in one piece was going to be a challenge. Sam anchored the Platypus well offshore where she would be safe, while Nick and Jeremy prepared to go ashore in the rib, leaving Sam and Beau on board with the crew to look after the ship. The sight of them in their heavy clothing and life jackets drew a full throttled laugh from Sam. ‘Man, you two look like the Bridgestone man. You’ll drown if you fall in the water wearing all that gear.’

  ‘I’ll risk it.’ Nick grinned and slapped his sides. ‘Like you said, it’s bloody freezing mate.’

  The port and starboard gangplanks were stowed flush to the bulwark, in a weather skirt pocket on each side of the ship, and were activated by a switch on the deck rail that swung them out and down to the water, locking them in place beside the hull.

  They looked down this gangplank to the bouncing rib waiting below. From this point the rib looked fragile, and not something equipped to battle these seas. Jeremy paled and stepped back.

  ‘I’ll go first.’ Nick offered. ‘You be okay?’

  ‘Sure, piece of cake’ Jeremy swallowed hard and frowned as a crew member took Nick’s arm to guide him onto the steep gangplank.

  The angry sea whipped the rib back and forth, and the crew member sitting by the centre console bowed his head as he grappled with the wheel to keep her steady. Foam billowed over his head, dripping over his oilskins in large blobs. Nick jumped in without hesitation and scrambled into his place behind the centre console. He looked up and waved to Sam above as Jeremy leapt in after him. The second the men were aboard the crew member gunned the two powerful outboard motors and spun the rib away from the ship with an expert thrust, and they headed for the ironbound coast.

  Danger was ever present, the shore was gouged and jagged by constant surges that pounded and eroded the coastline endlessly. In the hands of an unskilled boatman the rib could easily have capsized on the treacherous rocks, but this crew member knew his job and he guided them through the menacing gauntlet to safety without mishap.

  Four men came forward to greet the new arrivals, slapping their bodies like fat penguins flapping their wings to keep the blood flowing. They helped bring the boat ashore, and when all was secured the largest of the men clad in foul-weather gear, slapped his hands on Nick’s shoulders, and hugged him to his barrel chest. Smiling blue eyes above an unruly red beard softened his leathery weather-beaten countenance and brought a warm glow to his face.

  ‘Nicky. Been a long time! Come, my friends. I’ve got a warm tot o’rum waiting back at camp.’ Wolf’s voice warmed more than the frigid air that puffed white clouds around him. It softened Nick’s grimace and reminded him why he liked Wolf so much.

  ‘Christ Wolf, how do you live in this cold hole? It’s not even fit for the bears!’ Nick’s reply was partly lost in the howling wind, as the men hunkered down to face the trek ahead. After the rib was secured, Wolf led the way with the others close behind, scrabbling over the slick rocks, greased to a slippery shine by the constant sea spray that coated this inhospitable part of the coastline.

  Nick reeled against the bitter blast that blew from the North and lashed his face like knife cuts, and one by one the small party began to string out as they gained the higher level. They stumbled across an uneven tract of land covered by sparse patches of dry grass, whose scruffy tips had been given temporary life by the spattered muddy snow clinging in small glittering beads to their surface. Bent low against the savage winds that lashed their backs like a demon slave driver, the men managed to defy their adversary and made it into the small isolated camp, thankful for the promised shelter from the elements bent on their destruction.


  They came upon a building twenty metres long, shaped like a barrel cut in half, it’s corrugated iron sides effectively repelling the constant snow falls that battered it’s rusty shell. With no windows apparent it did not present a welcoming site, and when they entered through the one visible doorway, they slammed their eyes shut against the sudden bright lights that prickled their dry eye balls like sharp needles, and their ears attuned to the howling wind gratefully absorbed the calm silence.

  Wolf’s research station supported a small crew of dedicated men who spent long lonely hours monitoring displays from the vast array of electronic equipment. The only other residents of the island were a crew from the United States Coast Guard, and some hardy fishermen.

  They found the main room housing the recording instruments and computer displays littered with discarded graphs, crumpled paper, and reams of other documents curling like unruly snakes beneath a long centre table. In 2042 all electronic equipment was voice controlled and a vast amount of data was stored on chips, but scientists still needed paper maps and charts on which they could scribble and write notes. Beneath this layer of superficial clutter it was remarkably clean. Another large room beside this, lined with rough hewn timber and obviously well insulated beckoned the shivering men. Large comfortable lounge chairs squatted in one corner, arranged around an oversized square coffee table. The sweet smell of spruce from the open fireplace filled the room, sparking warmly, offering the weary freezing visitors solace from the cold outside.

  A giant moose head dominated one wall. Broad flat antlers edged by large marginal prongs formed a wide frame over his head, and deep brown soulful eyes fixed the occupants with a sombre gaze. Nick wiped snow flakes from his tingling nose and wondered why Wolf - who was a gentle man, would mount such a constant reminder of man’s cruelty.