"We can explain it to you on the way,” Helki said. “I'm not staying here for another minute."
They got into the vehicle and drove off, leaving the deputy behind. As Helki headed for the main road, she dialed her husband's number again, but there was no answer. Fear was pounding a steady drumbeat in her head, but she tried to ignore it, focusing only on taking the curves of the road as quickly as possible.
Victor was explaining the situation to Frank. “You need to understand that this entire area is geothermically active. Both Lake Yomigo and Lake Molluk were formed in the craters of dormant volcanoes. Over time, carbon dioxide seeping up through the ground can accumulate at the bottom of lakes like these. We're talking about millions of cubic feet of dissolved gas. Normally, it's dispersed by seasonal turnover, but under certain conditions, the gas can build up until the lake is saturated. A disturbance can cause all of it to be released at once."
"It's like a bottle of soda water,” Helki said. “Before you open the bottle, the carbon dioxide is dissolved in the liquid. When you unscrew the cap, the pressure is released and the gas comes out of solution. If the same thing happens in a crater lake, you get a cloud of carbon dioxide that can kill everything within miles. It's invisible and nontoxic, but it makes it impossible to breathe."
Frank seemed skeptical. “But what would cause the lake to release so much gas?"
"An explosion would have done the trick,” Victor said. “The hikers planted a bomb to destroy the cooling station. When they set it off, the blast released the accumulated carbon dioxide in the lake. These two kids didn't know what they were doing, so they got caught right in the middle of it."
"It's happened before,” Helki said, remembering a case study from her college years. “In Cameroon, there's a crater lake called Lake Nyos. It lies above a pocket of magma that saturated the water with carbon dioxide. The gas accumulated for years, and one day, it erupted, suffocating everything in its path. Villagers heard a noise like thunder, and when they went to see what was happening, they fell asleep and never woke up. A thousand people died that day."
"This explains why the fire went out,” Victor said. “It also explains the symptoms. People who are exposed to carbon dioxide suffer from acidosis of the blood. They may hallucinate smells, like rotten eggs. In the end, they die of suffocation. Helki and I survived because we made it to the car and closed the doors. After a few hours, the gas dispersed enough for us to move around safely."
"If you're right, it must have been one hell of an eruption,” Frank said. “Why didn't anyone see it?"
"We didn't see it, but we heard it,” Helki said. “After the blast, there was a roar from the lake. The fountain would have been spectacular, up to fifty feet high, like a huge champagne bottle being uncorked. If other survivors come forward, I'm sure that we'll find someone who witnessed it."
"It may also explain why the lake turned red,” Victor said. “An eruption this violent would have stirred up sediment at the bottom of the lake, including dissolved iron, which would have oxidized at the surface."
As Victor spoke, Helki finally saw the full picture, a movie unspooling in her brain as she drove down the mountain road. At the first tremor from the blast, a vibration had passed through the lake, pushing saturated water from the bottom towards the surface, where the pressure was too low to keep the gas in solution. Bubbles had formed, buoying the water higher and creating a column of carbon dioxide. The suction had drawn more water up from the base, forming a vast fountain. A cloud of death had rushed away from the shore, spreading inexorably across the land.
In the air, birds were beginning to appear again, descending to scavenge the bodies of the dead. “There are dozens of crater lakes in this part of the country,” Frank said. “Why hasn't this happened before?"
"I don't know,” Victor said. “In most lakes, the water is constantly turning over. The top layer is cooled by the wind, sinks to the bottom, and is replaced by the warmer water below. In the process, carbon dioxide is released. You only see buildup like this in tropical lakes where water temperature is too stable for turnover to take place. I can't tell you why it happened here."
Helki felt the germ of an idea pushing its way to the surface. “What about the cooling system? The water runs through pipes throughout the mountain and returns to the lake, a few degrees warmer than before. It could be enough to upset the convection process. A layer of saturated water would remain at the lake bottom, deeper than what you've been pumping out—"
Victor took up the thread. “The lake is sheltered by the hills, which would have impeded turnover anyway. Previously, the lake would have released small amounts of carbon dioxide on a regular basis, but if turnover was affected, these dispersals would have ceased."
"And this explains the snakes,” Helki said, racing to catch up with the implications of her own hypothesis. “If the lake normally released carbon dioxide in limited amounts, it would have filled the fissures in the hillside, making it impossible for animals to survive there. When the gas began to build up in the lake instead, it created a vacant niche. The snakes were the first to take advantage of it. This explains why they formed dens and mating balls. When the conditions were right, these behaviors appeared for the first time."
"But there's one thing that I don't understand,” Victor said. “If carbon dioxide levels in the lake were rising, somebody should have noticed it. It couldn't have been overlooked for so long. Unless—"
He broke off. Frank had gone pale. “What is it?” Helki asked, alarm bells going off in her head.
"We ran a study before installing the cooling system,” Frank said haltingly. “It indicated that lake turnover would be affected. At worst, we thought that the problem would only affect organisms within the lake itself. We were sure that we could find a solution eventually, but we were afraid of delaying construction. We thought that we could address the ecological issues later. So we buried it—"
"But this was a time bomb,” Victor said, his voice trembling with anger and disbelief. “The lake was bound to blow up eventually. It could have been a storm, a construction accident. Any number of things could have set it off."
"And what about Lake Molluk?” Helki asked. “Could the same thing happen there?"
Frank nodded reluctantly. “We've had a cooling system in place for years. Our studies there showed the same thing. Lake turnover is affected. We haven't checked the carbon dioxide levels, but—"
"—but Lake Molluk is a crater lake,” Victor finished. “The lakes are twins. That's why both were chosen for development. If someone sets off another bomb there, the lake could explode."
"We need to warn Russell,” Helki said, floored by the full implications of what they were saying. “You understand? He doesn't know what the explosion will do. From his point of view, he's just attacking resort property. He has no idea what will happen if a bomb goes off."
"There must be a way to get in touch with him,” Victor said. “If there isn't, we need to go public. Call the media. Tell them that the lake will explode if anyone detonates a bomb."
"That's only going to start a panic,” Frank said, his air of skepticism gone. “A mass evacuation might set the lake off on its own. Besides, if we advertise the danger, there's no telling what kind of lunatics we could draw. If all it takes is a single bomb—” He wiped the sweat from his face. “I need to talk to the owners. They'll decide the best course of action."
They arrived at Lake Molluk. After passing a security checkpoint, Helki pulled into the parking lot, from which she could see into the village that had been built at the base of the mountain. It was impossible to look at the scene without imagining what would happen if the lake erupted. A cloud of invisible gas would rise from the lake, surging forward at forty miles per hour, impossible to evade or outrun. Skiers would suffocate where they stood, tangled up in their equipment. Horses harnessed to carriages would fall to their knees, dragging their reins down with them. The resort would become a graveyard. A necropolis.
Frank seemed to be envisioning the same scenario. When he spoke again, his voice was subdued. “I need you to keep this to yourselves for now. If word gets out, we won't be able to control the outcome. Give me an hour."
"One hour,” Helki said. “Fine. But in the meantime, we're leaving with our families."
"I understand.” Frank looked back at Victor. “If we make it through the day without an eruption, what happens?"
"The lake can be degassed,” Victor said. “If you sink a vertical pipe to the bottom and start pumping water to the surface, the water will continue to rise on its own. The pressure from the gas will push it upward, and the carbon dioxide will escape harmlessly. It's been done successfully in Africa.” He paused. “Of course, the best solution would be to stop lake cooling altogether."
Frank did not reply. They got out of the Land Rover and headed for the hotel at the center of the village. As they walked in silence, they passed groups of skiers, families, and resort staff, all going about their business with no idea of the danger. Helki wanted to take them aside, one at a time, and warn them of what could be coming, but knew that it would sound like madness. In the crisp mountain sunshine, even she found it nearly impossible to believe.
When they reached the ski patrol's headquarters, Frank went inside without a word. Helki and Victor went into the hotel across the street, which had been designed to resemble an alpine chalet. Clusters of guests were lounging in the lobby, which was very warm, thanks to a log fire blazing in the corner. If the lake erupted, the fire would go out at once, extinguished by a blast of carbon dioxide, the first and only warning that something had gone wrong.
"He's right, you know,” Victor said. “We can't go public without causing a panic. We need to tread softly.” He touched her arm. “Don't wait for a call from Frank. Just get your family out of here as soon as you can."
"I will.” Helki gave Victor a hug, then watched as he headed towards his wing of the hotel, glad that they had both survived. Entering the nearest elevator, she pressed the button for her floor, looking forward to seeing her family again. When the elevator opened onto her hallway, she went to her room, where she used a key card to unlock the door. As she did, she realized how exhausted she was.
"Helki?” Jeff's voice came from inside the room as she opened the door. “Is it you?"
"Yes, I finally made it,” Helki said, glad to hear his voice. She closed the door behind her. “I'm sorry I—"
She broke off. Jeff was seated on the sofa, watching the news. He was tall and handsome, still athletic in his early forties. Next to him, Emily, their daughter, was reading a children's book. At the age of six, she had the best qualities of both parents, with her mother's dark coloring and her father's grace.
Helki saw these things only in passing, her eyes caught by the third man in the room. He was seated in the armchair in the corner, his large hands clasped across his knees. It was Russell.
"Hello, Helki,” Russell said, regarding her calmly. “I'm glad that you made it back."
Emily dropped her book and jumped into her mother's arms, asking where she had been. Helki replied distractedly, unable to take her eyes from Russell, who was looking amiably at her husband.
"Russell has been assisting the search and rescue effort,” Jeff said. “We were trying to figure out where you might have gone after I called. I was worried when you didn't call back."
"I couldn't get through,” Helki said, her daughter's tiny arms still clasped around her neck. She saw that Russell had shaved his beard. Instead of the faded clothes that he had been wearing that morning, he was dressed in a ski patrol uniform. A duffel bag lay at his feet. It was large enough for a shotgun.
"Cell phone service can be unreliable in the mountains,” Russell said, watching Helki intently, as if daring her to say something. “I'm not surprised that you weren't able to get a signal."
"That's why I came back.” Helki turned to Jeff. “We need to get out of here now."
Jeff took Emily from her arms. “Is something wrong? Does this have something to do with—"
"Just trust me,” Helki said. “Pack our things. I need to speak to Russell for a second."
Her husband looked as if he wanted to say more, but instead, he set down Emily, who ran into the adjoining bedroom. Jeff followed, leaving the door slightly ajar. Helki heard him take down their suitcases.
Russell rose from his armchair. Without looking at Helki, he went to the balcony and slid open the glass door, leaving his duffel bag behind. Helki kept an eye on it as she followed him outside. On the balcony, the resort was spread before them like a gingerbread village, the mountain in the distance, its slopes covered in carefully tended snow. Russell rested his elbows against the railing, looking out at the setting sun. He seemed in no hurry to begin the conversation.
Helki soon grew tired of the prolonged silence. “What exactly are you doing here?"
"I came to see you,” Russell said. “When I heard my description over the radio, I figured that it was time to go. I was about to slip away when your husband asked me if I knew what had happened to you. It must have been the uniform.” He shrugged. “When I realized who he was, I came up here. Such coincidences are always meaningful. Besides, I have something for you."
Helki was afraid to ask what this meant. “If you do anything to hurt my family—"
"I have no intention of hurting anyone,” Russell said. “Except to defend myself."
"With another bomb?” When Russell didn't reply, Helki told him what had happened to his companions, explaining the conditions at the lake and the disaster that might ensue if another bomb went off. Russell listened to her theory in silence, offering no sign of what he was thinking. When Helki had finished, she repeated her question. “If there's another bomb, you need to tell me."
Russell reached into his pocket. Helki drew back instinctively, but when his hand reappeared, it was holding nothing but a cell phone, which he set down on the railing. Helki remembered how the bomb at the lake had been detonated. “Is that how you're going to set it off?"
"It doesn't matter,” Russell said. “If you're really afraid of what I might do, you'll let me walk away."
"You wouldn't set off another bomb,” Helki said, not sure that she believed her own words. “If the lake erupts—"
"It wouldn't be my fault. According to your theory, the lake could erupt at any time."
Helki was amazed by his coldness. “One of your friends is dead. The other is in the hospital. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
"They were good soldiers,” Russell said. “After we ran into you by the lake, I wanted to call everything off, but the boy insisted on going ahead. They were supposed to call me when they were done. When I didn't hear from them, I knew that something had gone wrong."
As she listened, Helki kept her eye on the cell phone, wondering if she could make a grab for it. Russell seemed to guess her intentions, and without making a point of it, he took the phone and moved it to his end of the railing. “Our plan was to destroy the cooling station, which would have delayed construction for a few months,” Russell said. “But if you're right about the lake, I can get the resort to do whatever I want. All it takes is one phone call."
"If you're willing to do it,” Helki said. “If you're ready to become a real terrorist."
"This isn't ecoterrorism,” Russell said. “Ecoterrorism is deforestation and pollution. People like you aren't going to change this.” He turned back to the view of the mountain. “I don't expect you to understand. What I'm doing won't be appreciated for a hundred years—"
Helki wondered if Russell was really as cold as he claimed to be. He seemed to feel no guilt over the deaths that he had inadvertently caused. Perhaps, she thought, he was so used to contemplating the extinction of entire species that a dozen deaths, or even a thousand, seemed meaningless by comparison. If so, then his brand of compassion had turned him into a monster.
"The snakes are dead, you know,” Helki said. “The
population may never be able to recover. We were seeing behaviors that had never been witnessed before. Now they've been lost forever."
When Russell turned back, she saw that his eyes were damp. “It isn't what I wanted, but there was no alternative. People need to be shocked into action. If you hate me for it, I don't blame you. But if I didn't believe that my actions were somehow necessary, this would be the worst day of my life."
His words reminded her of what had brought him here in the first place. Russell was a fanatic, perhaps even dangerous, but he lay at the far end of a continuum that included Helki herself. She could reject his methods, but not his cause, especially when the alternative was a virtuous sense of helplessness.
It occurred to her that a man like this, so ready to take extreme measures to save the world, might be willing to save it with an idea instead, if he were convinced that the idea had the greater chance of success. “If you want to send a message,” Helki said, “there's a better way."
Without reflecting too deeply on what she was doing, Helki told Russell about how the resort had covered up the results of its own study. It had built the cooling system in spite of evidence that lake turnover might be affected, and by doing so, it had created the conditions that had led to the eruption. “Take it public,” Helki concluded. “I've given you the outline of the story. You can do the rest. People may not understand the science, but they'll understand the lie."
Russell had listened to her account without speaking. “Why are you telling me this?"
"Because you were right about me,” Helki said. “I could never go public. I've made too many compromises. You're outside the system. If you want to send a message, this is your best chance. I'd rather see you do it this way."
There was a tap on the glass door that led to the balcony. Jeff was standing in the next room. “Helki, we're ready to go."
Analog SFF, September 2009 Page 14
