2042: The Great Cataclysm

by Melisande Mason

  ‘Look! Is that a sub?’ Beau whispered in disbelief.

  ‘Ya, probably be Russian.’ Said Wolf. ‘Could be one of their dumping grounds. The Ruskis started building those death traps in the nineteen fifties. They’ve been scuttling them somewhere in the ocean ever since’

  ‘I thought they were dicing that stuff into the sea near Vladivostok.’ Nick said.

  ‘Maybe a little too close to home.’ Wolf replied.

  ‘Yeah, and I read somewhere they found a big dump in the Norwegian Sea in the nineties. Must be at least thirteen damaged sub reactors on the bottom there, five still filled with fuel.’ Nick said. ‘That’s also where the nuclear sub Komsomolets went down with four kilos of plutonium in her nose.’

  ‘Ya, and what about the seventeen thousand containers of radioactive waste they dumped in the Bering and Kara Seas?Plus the twenty-thousand spent fuel rods they found off the Kola Peninsular west of Murmansk. I could go on and on.’

  They manoeuvred slowly around among the relics and sighted piles of barrels and cylinders. ‘Why couldn’t they have spread them around a bit?’ Jeremy snapped, nursing his plastered arm. ‘No-one knows how long these things will hold together or what they’ll do to the environment.’

  ‘’I think it’s a case of out of sight out of mind, the Russians don’t care about the environment.’ Wolf said. ‘Don’t forget the Japs.’

  ‘They’re not the only ones.’ Nick said. ‘Excuse me guys, but look what the US did at Amchitka in the seventies? The underground blast was the biggest in US history. It raised the ground six metres! They’re still monitoring the area for leakage of nuclear materials.’

  ‘Christ. Listening to you two is scaring me.’ Beau said. ‘What’s all that doing to the marine life?’

  Nick turned to Beau. ‘Look around. Do you see any? Radioactive material travels with ocean currents. It’s deposited in marine sediment and climbs the marine food chain. Seals have died here from blood cancer, so have millions of starfish, shellfish, seals and porpoises in the White Sea, caused by pollution or nuclear contamination. Most of the world’s radioactive contamination is in the marine environment.’

  His mind was working furiously as he stared at the scene in front of him, and suddenly his head jerked around, his eyes narrowed into slits then widened as his pupils dilated to darkened orbs. At the same time Wolf’s expression turned sour.

  ‘Christ! That pile of junk out there’s sitting right on top of the fault line.’ Nick said. ‘When the quakes open up the seabed here, that stuff will be swallowed.’

  ‘Ya, and when it hits the molten magma, it’ll make Krakatoa look like a baby.’ Wolf added.

  Nick turned an ashen countenance to Jeremy. ‘You’d better make a note of everything out there, see if you can get some images. It’s bloody frightening. I need to get back to Washington. Fast! How soon can we get back to land and have a Veto pick me up Wolf?’

  Wolf immediately reached for the radio. ‘It’ll take about six hours to get to Kotzebue Sound, we can have a military Veto from Fairbanks waiting for you, he can take you to Anchorage airport.’

  ‘Good. Get them to book me on a flight to Washington while you’re at it. We’ll head off when Jeremy’s finished. Um, we should keep this under our hats for now, until I can sort it out with Josh in Washington.’

  Nick retreated to his thoughts, his mind racing as he tried to assimilate all that had transpired in the past month. The ramifications of his findings were beyond calculation. The eruptions and crustal movement between Tahiti and the Aleutians would cause immeasurable damage to a vast region of land bordering the Pacific, but what they were facing here would destroy the weakened polar ice. Any that withstood the nuclear blast would be melted by the boiling sea and molten magma forced out by the amplified eruptions below the earth’s crust.

  An explosion such as this would have a devastating affect on the already floundering cities on sea level, forcing the oceans higher, perhaps drowning all coastal cities entirely! His mind was spinning, questions flooding in at a rate he was unable to process. He wondered if Josh or anyone else would believe him.

  Jeremy completed his observations and they headed back to the Platypus where Sam and the boys were more than glad to see them. ‘It’s about time y’ finished up down there. We’ve bin freezin’ our butts off as usual. What the hell did y’ find that took so long?’ Sam demanded.

  Ignoring his question Nick pulled him aside out of earshot. ‘I’m jumping a Veto back to Washington. I want you to take the Platypus to Australia, but don’t go into any port unless it’s to refuel or take on supplies. If you do, get back to sea quick-smart, and stay there! Understand?’

  ‘Are you serious!’ Sam exploded, eyes bulging with disbelief. ‘e’ve bin at sea over six weeks and the men are restless. They need a break. Now your tellin’ me to go to Australia! Sweet Jesus. It’ll take us two weeks to get there! What the hell’s goin’ on?’

  ‘Looks like some major undersea earthquakes coming up Sam! It could affect the entire world as we know it. Jeremy can fill you in. Just trust me. This’s important. Don’t screw up. Just do as I tell you! I’m relying on you.’

  ‘Je..sus, if things aren’t bad enough.’ Sam muttered, thinking of the world-wide flooding. He knew it would be pointless to question Nick any further and stabbed his finger several times on the map on the console display.

  ***

  Friday, May 26

  They could see the Veto waiting as promised as they steamed into the sequestered inlet of Kotzebue Sound. Sam had informed the crew of their orders and heated arguments had followed and he had a great deal of trouble persuading the men to stay with him, several threatened to jump ship, and would have done so had they been anywhere else but in that isolated Godforsaken freezing hole.

  Nick left his men with a feeling of deep sorrow not knowing whether he would ever see the Platypus again. He did know however, that its safety was going to be crucial to his future. ‘Remember what I said Sam.’ He reiterated. ‘Stay at sea! I’ll keep in touch.’

  Wolf’’s robust complexion had paled and he walked with a slight stoop as he escorted Nick to the waiting Veto. ‘Nicky, this’s bad. What’s worse is there’s nothing we can do to stop it.’

  Nick lowered his voice. ‘Listen mate, why don’t you to come back to Washington with me? It’s going to be tough convincing those sceptics back there. Besides, I reckon you shouldn’t hang ‘round here, it’s going to be a bloody catastrophe when that lot goes off.’

  ‘Thanks Nicky, but you don’t need me. I’ll get Sam to take me back to Unimak. I want to get my records and make sure my men get out of there. I’ve spent way too long up here to walk away and leave it all behind. Maybe I’ll join you later.’

  ‘Do you think it will matter? Nothing will be the same again!’

  Ya.’ He sighed. ‘I s’pose you’re right, but you know me. Never give up.’

  Nick boarded the Veto and waved a fond farewell to his old friend who presented a desolate figure standing alone on the edge of the pad as he waved back. His friendly blue eyes no longer smiled and his face held a grave expression as he tugged at his beard. The Veto lifted off and Nick leaned against the window to take one last look at his ship, his eyes remained fixed on her outline as she receded, dissolving into nothing more than a speck on the ocean. Not being a religious man he found himself praying for his men and their safety. It would be quite a trip, he thought, whilst unconsciously chewing a fingernail until it’s tips oozed tiny red droplets.

  After a long uncomfortable flight into Anchorage, Nick settled into the comparative luxury of the old 777 jet bound for Washington. Knowing relaxation would be impossible, he sought to sooth his frayed nerves with a nudge from his favourite amber fluid and buzzed the flight attendant. ‘A double scotch. On the rocks, please love.’ He sighed.’Got any black label?’

  While he waited for his drink he dialled Josh Harrington’s number in Washington and was somewhat soothed by the warm deep voice on
the other end. ‘Nick, where the hell have your been? I expected you back weeks ago.’

  ‘Good to hear from you too. I’m on my way back. Can you meet me at Dulles? My flight gets in at ten. Three twenty-two from Anchorage.’

  ‘Anchorage? What’re you doing there?’

  ‘It’s along story, mate.’ He sighed. ‘Look forward to seeing you.’

  ‘Ten. Right. I’ll be there.’

  Nick hung up just as the flight attendant brought his drink, which he quickly swallowed an ordered another. After the third drink he began to unwind and felt the pressure lifting. He closed his eyes and eased the seat back into the reclining position and allowed his mind to shift direction towards Laura and more pleasant times.

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Seven

  Nick had met Laura Forrest two years previously at the historical Lincoln Hotel in Washington, when they each had attended a Government reception for a team of visiting English Scientists.

  His first impression of the Jefferson function room was of an aircraft hanger, festooned as it was with giant crystal chandeliers, draped like parachutes from one end of the ceiling to the other. He admonished himself for being conned into another of these superfluous ‘do’s’. Josh was always trying to pair him off with some glamorous socialite. He just wasn’t interested, there was no room in his solitary life for a woman.

  He poked his finger between his neck and the bow tie of the hired tuxedo Josh insisted he wear. He felt like a galah. It was too tight and the shiny black shoes hurt his feet. The man at the hire shop had suggested Nick cut his hair to which he agreed. Yet there it was, tied back in it’s usual manner, lending him that devil-may-care reputation he held dear.

  Soft music droned from an alcove on one side of the room and Nick sniggered as a tall penguin flapped before him holding a tray of fluffy champagne in pink glasses.

  ‘Got any real drinks mate?’

  The waiter looked at him like he was a cockroach on his shoe. ‘What would you like sir?’

  ‘Scotch thanks, and make it black label.’

  ‘I’ll see what I can find.’ He sniffed.

  The disdain in the waiter’s voice somehow pleased Nick and he waited patiently for his return, so he could bristle his feathers with another barb. Within minutes the waiter was back and presented a tray holding a solitary glass, a small ice bucket, and a bottle of soda.

  ‘Thanks mate, but you can keep the ice and the fizzy.’ Nick held the glass up to the light examining the golden colour and grinned. ‘Keep ‘em coming.’

  The waiter tossed his head and went back to his duties.

  Nick was enjoying his drink and was wondering how he could make a break from this circus, when a soft hand touched his shoulder.

  ‘Hi. You look bored.’

  He swung around to see who owned the husky voice, and smiled at the stunning small figure swathed in red sparkling sequins standing before him. ‘Hello.’ She said. ‘I’m Laura Forrest. Are you alone?’

  ‘Matter-of-fact I am. Nick. Nick Torrens. Er, nice to meet you.’ He moved to shake her hand but remembered it was not polite to shake a woman’s hand unless she offered hers first, and quickly stuck his in his trouser pocket.

  ‘You’re not from around here are you?’

  ‘No, I’m not, far from it.’ He glanced around the room. ‘Um, nice place.’ Nick shuffled his feet and took a swig of his scotch. He always found it hard to relate to women, because his life was spent mostly in the company of men. Something told him he would need all his confidence with this one.

  ‘You’re Australian.’ She said. ‘I’d recognise that accent anywhere. How did they manage to drag you here? You look so, out of place?’

  ‘Yeah I am. Um, to tell you the truth I was just trying to figure a way out. My mate Josh Harrington invited me.’

  ‘Harrington. Isn’t he something to do with Science and Research at the Capitol?’

  ‘Yeah, d’you know him?’

  Her dark eyes twinkled. ‘I’ve heard of him. He has an office in the same building as mine.’

  ‘Oh, and what sort of work do you do?’ The words were out before Nick realised he was being a little too inquisitive.

  ‘I’m a Senator.’

  ‘You’re a Senator? I’m impressed! You don’t look like a Senator.’ Nick felt his confidence growing.

  She laughed again and her smooth olive face crinkled. Dense dark lashes like tropical fans swept lazily over coal-black eyes. Like many American women her smile dazzled and her large eyes fascinated him. An uncomfortable sensation stirred him as those eyes locked directly onto his.

  ‘Oh. What does a Senator look like?’

  ‘I’m sorry. Er, I didn’t mean to offend you.’ Nick said. ‘Politicians are a tough lot and you don’t look tough.’

  She frowned and he wished he could bite back the words.

  ‘Well, you’re certainly no politician.’ She hesitated, and Nick guessed she was about to comment on his lack of tact, but instead her face opened into a broad smile.’Only someone who spends all his time outdoors could have a tan like yours.’

  ‘You’re right, I’m not a politician. D’you wanna share the outdoors with me for a while?’ He nodded toward the balcony. ‘We could um, get out of this crowd.’

  ‘Okay. I don’t know why I’m doing this, but you interest me. It’s good to meet someone in Washington who’s not in politics for a change.’

  He led her onto the balcony where they finished their drinks making small talk while other guests fluttered in and out. They made a handsome couple; a big handsome tanned man with rich brown hair streaked light by the sun and tied back in a ponytail, and a beautiful petite dark-haired woman in red.

  She looked so inviting he forgave her politician’s prattle and decided he would like to get to know her better. ‘Let’s get out of here, nobody will miss us.’

  ‘What did you have in mind?’

  ‘Some place quieter. Some coffee?’

  ‘Sounds like a great idea, but what about your friend, Josh?’

  ‘Oh, he was having the time of his life last time I saw him. Doesn’t need me.’

  ‘Okay, I’m game if you are.’ She grinned.

  ‘Too easy.’ He said. He took her arm and discreetly guided her through the room to the exit, where they collected their coats. Nick winked wickedly at the concierge as he ushered her through the big double doors, and they left like a pair of children sneaking out for some fun. A lone taxi squatted by the kerb in the deserted street, smoke trailing from the driver’s window. The circular moon cast icy jagged shadows on the pavement, broken into uneven shapes by the glow from low street lights. Small puddles of water glistened in luminous patches on the ground. Twisting his wrist over Nick glanced at his watch. ‘It’s only eleven thirty. Night’s still a pup. Let’s walk see if we can find that coffee.’

  ‘All right.’ She said, taking his arm as they set off. ‘Okay, Nick Torrens you know I’m a politician. What about you? Where did you get that tan?’

  ‘Comes from years at sea. I’m an oceanographer.’

  ‘An oceanographer eh? That’s interesting. I take it you’re not married?’ She said glancing at his ringless fingers.

  ‘No. It’s not the kind of life for a woman. I’m at sea more than I’m on land. I’m on a break right now, my ship’s in dry dock. How ‘bout you?’

  ‘Thirty-two, divorced no kids and I love my job.’ It rolled off her tongue as easily as if she had been ordering a hamburger with mustard and French fries.

  Nick grinned.

  Three blocks from the Lincoln they found a small cafe with dim lights concealing inexpensive furniture. A young bearded man huddled in a dingy corner softly strumming a guitar, droning a bluesy ballad, and an older couple snuggled at a corner table, engaged in earnest conversation oblivious to others in the room. Nick guided Laura into a vacant booth in the opposite corner and ordered bottomless black coffee. Time stopped, or so it seemed to them as they sat for hours sharing t
he details of their lives. Her controlled speech began to wane, revealing she wasn’t really as sophisticated as he first thought, and he was pleased.

  Life as an oceanographer had always been all he needed, but now, suddenly at forty-five he began to see other possibilities. He and his brother Brian were raised by their father who had been so devastated by his wife’s death he turned to drink, and later as he grew older his career had precluded any deep relationships. Laura seemed different, there was something about her that stirred unexplained feelings, an intriguing sense of mischief.

  ***

  During the days that followed Nick’s life changed. He spent every spare moment he could find with Laura. When she attended a debate in the Senate he insisted on watching from the gallery, fascinated. She was seated at a gleaming timber desk in a semicircular row among others facing the Chair. His eyes never left her, absorbed by her spell, so much so that the content of the debate that day completely eluded him.

  She in turn loved his casualness, his sense of humour, the way he tossed his long hair, even the way he dressed, preferring his lived-in shorts, boating shoes with no socks and T-shirt that drew curious looks from her well dressed friends.

  Her background of wealth was revealed by her large apartment in the city with its winter landscape of aquamarine, icy greens and crystal accessories. Enormous glass walls overlooked a multitude of glittering city lights, and three huge crystal chandeliers strung from the fifteen-foot ceilings mirrored them inside. Ivory marble floors inlaid with a pattern of darker marble created an appropriate backdrop for the expensive artefacts that filled every room. An ivory-coloured grand piano dominated one corner of the vast lounge, which he discovered later was not for show. She was an accomplished pianist and delighted in entertaining him with enchanting recitals. This room swung off into an octagonal-shaped dining area large enough to hold an enormous, oval dining table with seating for twelve people, where she often entertained many of Washington’s influential residents. An intriguing curved marble staircase led to a secluded rooftop garden, which she explained was her escape from the lunacy of public life.