by Tony Bulmer
primitive legends. But Kāeo knew different. A professor of Volcanology and world renowned authority on plate tectonics, he had spent enough time in the presence of awe inspiring geomorphic phenomena to know that there was much more than scientific principals involved in their genesis.
As Kāeo looked west, the bitter chill of morning was accentuated by a relentless wind, howling in over the top of the mountain. He snuggled into his goose down parka and looked towards the horizon. There, swimming through the cloud base like an emergent whale, he could see the steaming peak of Kīlauea, the most active volcano in the whole of Hawaii, if not the world. How beautiful it was in the morning light and yet there was something more to this smoldering giant, something lonely and threatening, an unspoken curse that hung over the mountain, as secretive and impenetrable as the broiling volcanic clouds that crowded the land.
Life in these mountains was hard and dangerous. To many, such a solitary existence would be unendurable. The adversity of such an environment, combined with the isolation, had the power to drive men mad. Some might say it was the altitude, combined with lack of human contact. But Kāeo knew otherwise. The power of the elementals was strong here—evil spirits released from the bowels of the earth stalked the land with impunity, biding their time, so they might snatch an unwary soul and move into the world of man.
Looking out through his binoculars, towards highway eleven and the Kau desert now, Kāeo observed the complex. Situated just shy of the Kīlauea larva field, on the very edge of the Hilina
fault, the complex looked innocuous enough, almost like an out of town industrial facility, or some kind of sprawling storage depot for an opencast mining operation. But Kāeo wasn’t concerned by what he could see. He was worried by what he couldn’t see—stretching down, deep inside the earth like the poisonous tendrils of some monstrous ocean dwelling creature, sucking the life from the living rock, like a giant industrial parasite.
To Kāeo the five great volcanoes of Hawaii were as sacred as any ancestor. But the great Halemaumau crater of Kīlauea was the most sacred of all, because the flaming caldera of this, the most dangerous mountain in the world, was considered by the people of Hawaii to be the home of Pele goddess of fire. Surely such an unwarranted intrusion into the kingdom of the goddess would raise her ire? What right did these Haole outsiders have to drain the life-‐blood of the island, so they might harness it for their own selfish needs?
As he stood brooding on the lonely mountainside, wondering how the vengeance of the goddess would inevitably manifest itself, Kāeo noticed a lone SUV bouncing up the unsurfaced approach road. As it came, the merciless wind caught hold of the vehicles dusty slipstream and carried it away over the blackened lavascape towards the smoldering home of the goddess.
Pele goddess of wind and fire; sorceress of the heavens; thrower of lightning bolts; shaper of the sacred land—she was watching—waiting to pass her terrible judgment, of that there was no doubt.
Kāeo turned, watching as the dusty truck made its approach. It wasn’t often that visitors
came this far up the mountain; both determination and fortitude were needed to make it this high, and even then, such attributes weren’t always enough. A special permit was required to gain access to the summit, and knowledge of the combination to the lower gate. This was no place for sightseers, only the most committed hikers made it this far and when they arrived, they had to be prepared for anything—extreme weather, punishing terrain and mountain spirits, waiting in readiness to snatch the unwary.
As the truck pulled alongside him, Kāeo recognized with displeasure the man sitting behind the wheel. Ted Congo was a government man, but only in the smallest sense of the word. There was something unpleasant about Congo—an air of superiority, an disrespectful inflection in his speech, but worst of all there was his attitude. Congo was an unpleasant man, devoid of
spirituality and with no understanding or interest in the world of science. All he seemed to care about was advancing the interests of the political class and their objectionable corporate paymasters. No doubt this visit was connected in some way with Governor Geryon. It hardly seemed possible that the governor was dead now, murdered they said, in a sordid sex scandal—how horrible. Kāeo let the binoculars dangle around his neck; watching silently as the truck door opened and Congo leapt out with a broad grin spread wide across his face.
“Kāeo. Up bright and early as usual I see.” Congo held out his hand.
Kāeo raised his knuckles reluctantly, for a fist bump greeting.
Congo look disappointed, but touched knuckles anyway, “You going gangster on me professor?”
Kāeo frowned. “What do you want Congo?” “I brought an invitation to you brother, that‘s all. A thank you for all the hard work you do for us here on the Island.”
“Nice of you, I am sure, but the work I do here is for the Federal Government.”
“The Federal Government?” said Congo with a smile. “Of course, you work for the Federal Government professor. What I am talking about is your cooperation in the much needed energy project we have been working on—in conjunction with our friends the Tao Corporation.”
“They aren’t my friends Congo, neither are they friends of the Island. You mark my words, this geothermal daydream will have environmental implications we can only guess of.”
Ted Congo gave professor Kāeo a crafty look that might easily have been interpreted as empathy. He took a breath, then looked out over the valley towards the distant slopes of Kīlauea. “You are right professor, no doubt about it. I am a believer and my enthusiasm shines out because of that. But you are too modest when you deny the nature of your friendship with the Tao Corporation, because as we both know, you’re as deeply involved with our friends as anyone on the Island.”
Kāeo gave Congo a wary look, but said nothing.
Ted Congo turned away from the majestic wind swept view and said, “You thought I didn’t know, about the generous donations Mr. Tao made to that little foundation of yours?”
“A charitable educational foundation,”
added professor Kāeo.
Congo paused, let the smile fade slowly,
then said in a hard voice, “What ever the hell you
want to call it, you are on the payroll professor.
Which means you take orders like everybody else.” “I don’t know where you get your
information Congo, but I can tell you right now that
I will not compromise my role here in order to
cater to the whims of government house. Nor will I
suffer the intolerable interference of some
corporate sponsor in my role as the head of this
vital public institution.”
“Nice speech professor. But you are
forgetting one vital piece of information: You are
bought and paid for already. Now, you might want
to kick and scream about that, but you should have
thought long and hard before you got onboard with
this little enterprise of ours, shouldn’t you?” “I made no promises of any kind to anyone,
and I will be damned if I will suffer your
impertinence Congo. If you do not like my position
you and your friends can go to hell.”
Congo sucked breath. “Harsh words
professor, but you are already half way to hell
yourself, aren’t you?”
“I know what you are driving at Congo, and
I don’t like it—it is as though you are insinuating
there has been some kind of wrong doing on my
part.”
“Listen to me, you smart mouthed prick.
You got your payola, now it’s time to do as you are
told. You don’t like it—that is your tough shit.
Think hard about all that private cash you can
siphon off from that bullshit foundation of yours.”
Kāeo opened his mouth to respond, but Ted
Congo held up his hand. “Here’s what is going to
happen Professor—when Mr. Tao invited you and
your staff to the little soiree he is having, he meant
for everyone to attend, including yourself.” “But I couldn’t possibly attend. The
observatory needs constant supervision. I couldn’t
leave, even for a few hours—not when I am the
only person here.”
“I knew you would say that.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, Mr. Tao asked me to come up here
and invite you personally. He gave me a whole
bunch of yap about your work and how excited he
would be to see you tonight. But I told him you
wouldn’t come. I told him you were a man of
integrity who would stay at your post no matter
what, but he just wouldn’t believe me would he?” “I am sorry you have had a wasted journey
Congo. Please tell Mr. Tao that we could meet on
some other, more convenient occasion.”
Ted Congo nodded. Then looked out
towards the black slopes of Kīlauea and said, “It is
quite some view from up here, so high you can see
the earth bend, almost.”
Kāeo nodded. “This is a deeply spiritual
place. It needs to be protected.”
“I hear that if you look out over the top of
this big old hill you can see a black ocean in the
heart of the mountain.”
“The caldera, Moku`aweoweo, or Moku, as it
is known, is a hardened lake of lava over a mile
wide and four miles long. That is why they call this
place Mauna Loa, it means Long Mountain.” “No shit, a black lake?”
“It certainly looks like a lake—You haven’t
seen it?”
“Never. Not in all the time I have lived here.
I was born and raised in Texas.”
“Then I must show you—since you have
come this far.”
“Oh, I dunno professor. I know how busy
you are and all. I wouldn’t like to keep you from
your work, in case you get all uppity and decide to
set me straight again.”
Professor Kāeo said, “I am sorry about that.
But I appreciate your understanding.” He turned,
looked towards the top of the black lavascape and
said, “I know a short cut, it is a strenuous climb, but
much quicker than anything you will read about in
the tourist guides.”
“I can’t say I have read any tourist guides
professor. But I know that this mountain can be
dangerous, if you stray from the trails—all kinds of
brittle roofed lava caverns just waiting for a man’s
footfall so they can swallow him up.”
“You have nothing to fear if you stay close
to me. I am well acquainted with the topography of
this mountain, and many others besides.” Ted Congo looked upwards to the
blackened ridge line, “You say it won’t take long to
get up there? It looks mighty high to me.”
“Hardly any time. If we start now we can be
there and back in time for breakfast.”
“Breakfast? Why that’s real nice of you to
even suggest it Professor.” Congo turned up the
collar on his jacket, and followed the professor. As
they headed upwards together, across the lava
field, their boots crunched into the razor shards of
a violent, flame-‐blackened past, reaching back a thousand years.
27
The Pacific Gunshots coming rapid fire now. Science Officer Kellerman eased down the metal walled corridor into the bowels of the Nautilus, her heart beating out of her chest, as pure unadulterated terror filled every part of her being. She couldn’t remember which room exactly the L/E chest was in. Why in the hell did everything on this damn ship have a stupid acronym name anyway? Law enforcement chest—why did they call it that? It just didn’t make any sense. It was a damn gun cabinet wasn’t it?
Edging along the wall, she saw the bloodstains on her hands. So much blood
everywhere—all over her clothes her face and her hair too. She could taste the blood, hard and metallic on her tongue. Panicked, her mind raced away, back to Long Beach, California and her tiny little walk up flat on Atlantic and Broadway, real close to the East Village Arts Park. If she were home now what would she do? Take a long shower, scrub away the filth and the gore. Then settle down on her over-‐stuffed couch and watch black and white movies on TCM channel. Then order in Chinese food and drink Chardonnay until she nodded off to the reassuring voices of Bogart and Bacall.
The dream seemed so distant, so divorced from this new nightmare reality. Would it ever be possible to return to such a time? She should have listened to her parents and taken the safe research job at MIT and married into the college faculty. What would those academics think of her now?
Then, there were the civilized suburban friends of her mother and father’s acquaintance— how, if she ever saw them again, would she explain this episode away on her social resume? The most exciting thing that had ever happened to her before now was the time she fell overboard, on her maiden voyage, drifted in the wake of the boat until she couldn’t see the ship for the ocean swell rising all around her. It was easy to imagine at that time that she would never see land again. Then as now, every careless thought she had ever had about her easy going life ashore flashed before her, like a time slip TiVO machine, spewing random images so fast her mind could hardly grasp their meaning.
But things were different now. She had just killed a man. Smashed his skull in with a fire extinguisher for god’s sake. She couldn’t remember the moment she picked it up. She was so
&
nbsp; obsessively focused as on Captain Álvares’ plight. She had just reached out instinctively and grabbed the first weapon she could find. Now, she had crossed the line, entered in to new and unknown territory. How could she face any of those people from the old times, knowing she had just killed a man in the most brutal way imaginable?
Nausea welled up within her, rising and falling like the soft rolling motion of the ship. She was going to puke, she just knew it—throw her guts all over the floor like some kind of pathetic little crybaby. What would her macho classmates at the Academy say if they could see her weakness now? Kellerman felt herself stiffen, a growl of anguish rising within her. To hell with what those misogynists thought. Dime to a dollar none of those creeps had bashed a man’s head in with the blunt
end of a fire extinguisher. This was the very reason she had come to sea wasn’t it? To push forward the parameters of science and push back the old sexist ideas about just what exactly a woman could achieve. Kellerman swallowed down the nausea and pressed on. She would show them—all of them—the doubters who had thrown limits on her career at every turn. She hadn’t gotten this far by quitting, and the whole world could go to hell if they though she was going to throw down and walk away now. This wasn’t a throw down moment— trapped deep in the bowels of a ship a thousand miles from the nearest land and surrounded by gun wielding maniacs, there would be no walking away, she had to stand fast and make her play, show the entire world what she was made of.
