by Bobby Akart
What puzzled Ashby was the fact that recent earthquake swarms were taking place near the Norris Geyser Basin, but there was not a corresponding subsidence in the ground uplift. To date, the swarm had produced nearly seven hundred tiny quakes in a little over a month, plus the two substantial quakes running through the heart of Yellowstone Lake and to the west in Montana. None of these seismic events had relieved the pressure.
Ashby hovered over her laptop and studied the ground-deformation graphic downloaded from the USGS. The Norris Area stood out as an anomaly because its center of deformation was outside the caldera boundary.
This graphic was lending credence to Ashby’s dual magma chamber theory. She and other scientists now agreed that there were two magma chambers stacked on top of each other, separated by a layer of non-melted rock known as a sill located about six miles belowground.
On top of the sill was an upper magma chamber, which contains thick, sticky magma and a great deal of noxious gases like carbon dioxide, helium and sulfur dioxide. This deadly combination of gases makes the upper chamber particularly volatile. She equated it to a beer can that had been vigorously shaken. Open it up, and the liquid inside would spew everywhere.
This was the primary reason Ashby opposed Project Hydro. The drilling focused on that part of the upper magma chamber where it met the sill, six miles belowground. If the geologists’ mapping of the sill’s location was incorrect, closer to the Earth’s surface, for example, then this non-melted rock could fracture, resulting in the upper and lower chambers joining as one. The pressure on the Earth’s crust would be overwhelming, resulting in an eruption.
It was at this point where Ashby’s theories conflicted with other scientists’. Many well-respected geologists and volcanologists argued that the Project Hydro drilling, if it in fact disturbed the sill, would only trigger a minor eruption, not the Big One envisioned by Ashby.
Ashby maintained the Big One, as they sarcastically referred to a super eruption, would be triggered by the minor eruption because the precursors and groundwork for a super eruption had been taking place for decades.
Ashby didn’t want to be right. While the egos of some scientists would urge them to find the data to prove their point, Ashby honestly hoped her research would prove her wrong. Thus far, in a way, she was disappointing herself by being right.
Chapter 40
Firehole River
Hot Pots
Yellowstone
The group had just reconvened at the cabin when Jake got the call from dispatch that his assistance was needed. Intrigued, the group piled into his Expedition, backpacks full of gear included, and headed for the hot pots along the Firehole River. Once they arrived, Jake checked in with his fellow rangers and received the details of what had happened. By the time he rejoined the group, the shadows were growing long on another eventful day.
Dusty and Rita peeled off and headed toward the hot pot, which was surrounded with yellow DO NOT CROSS police tape, to get a closer look. Jake walked with Ashby downstream along the Firehole River. He tried to re-create what had happened the night before.
“Apparently from the best we can tell, two young girls and a guy shed their clothes with the intent to go hot potting. They wandered down the stream looking for one of the hot pot locations constructed years ago out of stacked stone, but it had been disassembled by order of the National Park Service. Based upon what happened, it was apparent they were under the influence of drugs or alcohol.”
“Was that their motorcycle back there?” asked Ashby.
“Yes,” replied Jake when he abruptly stopped at a deep, clear pool, which measured about ten feet across. Ashby pointed toward a portion of a tarp that protruded beyond a rock outcropping just below their position.
She walked toward it, commenting on the water temperatures. “Oh no, Jake. That water temperature could be as high as a hundred eighty degrees. Water covering your body at that temp is worse than the hottest, scalding water your water heater can generate.”
Jake led her by the arm and walked around the outcropping. On the ground lay a tarp that was held down in the breeze by rocks placed at each corner. Ashby covered her mouth and gasped.
Jake tried to intervene as he saw her reach for a corner to look underneath. “Ashby, you don’t want to see this. Seriously, there’s nothing to see.”
She ignored him and pulled back a corner of the tarp. She caught a glimpse of a gruesome, grisly corpse that sickened her. The skin and fat had dissolved away from the bones, leaving a combination of skeletal remains and some muscle. Ashby lowered the tarp and scrambled on all fours to the side before she vomited.
Jake moved next to her and helped hold Ashby’s hair back. Ashby wiped her mouth with her sleeve and sat back on to her heels. She looked up to Jake, who extended his arm to help her stand.
“Do the investigators know what happened?”
“The man has been identified from the motorcycle registration as Johnny Winston, a drifter with a rap sheet as long as I am tall. He’s wanted in California for jumping bail on a sexual assault charge. After finding his campsite, he planned on using a date-rape drug and then forcing himself on two young teenage girls who went missing last night.”
“Oh my god, Jake. What kind of animal does this?”
“Well, the type that deserves to get boiled alive, in my opinion.”
Ashby scowled and then the tears began to flow again. “But it wasn’t fair to the girls to end up like—”
Before she could finish, two law enforcement rangers came walking up a trail on the other side of the Firehole River. They were escorting the two girls wrapped in blankets.
Ashby’s crying stopped, and she regained her composure. “They got away?”
“They have little recollection of what happened except for the end. The girls were losing consciousness from the alcohol, marijuana, and a powerful drug. This scumbag decided to jump in and encourage them to join in the fun. It only took a few seconds for him to succumb. Scared, they gathered their clothes and ran for help. They ended up lost in the forest until they wandered on a campsite a few hours ago.”
“Thank God,” whispered Ashby, who immediately hugged Jake. The two were still in an embrace when Dusty and Rita came around the corner and caught a glimpse of the corpse.
They stood in shock, staring at the remains, before Jake pulled the tarp back in place and replaced the stone at the corner.
The four of them took a moment to shake off the visual of the destruction wrought by the hot pot when Dusty changed the subject.
“Doc, you’ve got to see this,” said Dusty. He was holding a portable infrared radiometer, which was used to measure surface temperatures in harsh environmental conditions.
Ashby took the device and looked at the readings. “Dusty, are you sure about this? Please check it again.”
“He has,” replied Rita. “I even checked it against the water temperature of the river, which was eighty-six degrees higher than other parts of the Firehole River but at least confirms the accuracy of the radiometer. The number is correct, I’m afraid.”
“What is it?” asked Jake.
Ashby handed the device back to Dusty and wiped the sweat off her brow. “Two hundred ninety degrees. Jake, this is unheard of for surface water, even in the hot springs or geysers. Also, consider this. The highest temperatures ever recorded underground were taken the other day in the Norris thermal system at four hundred eighty degrees, surpassing the previous high by twenty degrees or so. These readings are off the charts.”
They stood in silence for a moment until a voice interrupted them.
“Good morning, all.” It was the remarkably pleasant Ella.
Chapter 41
Firehole River
Hot Pots
Yellowstone
Ella approached the group, with Simon in tow. He had his camera ready, hoping to sneak a peek under the tarp and get the money shot. Jake walked toward them, sensing the potential intrusion upon the deceased, scumb
all that he was. Johnny Winston had a mother somewhere, and she didn’t need to see images of his dissolved corpse on the homepages of news websites around the world.
“Simon, right?” asked Jake even though he was certain of his recollection. “No photos of the crime scene.” The words were out of his mouth before he knew it. The reaction on Ella’s face told Jake he’d made a mistake.
Ella immediately picked up on the slip of the tongue and challenged Jake. “Crime scene? We were told by those gentlemen over there this was a horrific accident.”
Jake deflected her inquiry. “My mistake, ma’am. I used law enforcement lingo out of habit. I’m fairly certain the police tape was set up back there. For your safety, would you mind returning to the other side?”
“They get to be down here,” protested Simon, pointing at Jake’s companions.
“They’re leaving also, right, guys?” said Jake as he turned and raised his eyebrows, hoping they’d pick up on his suggestion. Dusty and Rita did. Ashby, however, did not, choosing to ignore Jake.
She walked toward Ella and positioned herself right in front of the young reporter. “Are you following me? Naturally, I remember you from Caltech.”
Ella stammered in her response. “I-I, well, yes, in a way, I am. I go where the story is and, Dr. Donovan, you are the story.”
“No, I am not,” said Ashby, immediately crossing her arms in defiance. “And I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t reference me in your reporting.”
“Oh, so you have seen my reports,” Ella shot back. “Or perhaps you follow my blog on BBC Earth called Dispatches.”
“I’ve seen your reporting but know nothing about your blog,” said Ashby brusquely. “I do know, however, that my colleagues at the YVO ran me out on a rail after you reported on my comments at the symposium.”
“Dr. Donovan, I simply reported your words and put them in context for our BBC viewership. It was not my intention to cause you any difficulties with your colleagues.”
“Well, it didn’t help,” muttered Ashby, knowing the report couldn’t be hidden from the public at this point. Dusty and Rita moved behind Ashby to lend her support. “Parts of the story were hyperbole and borderline irresponsible under the circumstances.”
Ella stood a little taller and appeared indignant. “How do you define responsible journalism? Hiding the truth from the public or to repeat the government narrative to supposedly avoid causing an unnecessary panic?”
“No, not necessarily, but—” Ashby started to reply before being interrupted.
“Isn’t it responsible of me to write the story from all perspectives, even if some consider a theory to be far-fetched or fearmongering? Dr. Donovan, I believe in full transparency and I believe you do too.”
“I do,” said Ashby sheepishly. “But still—”
Ella was relentless and strong in her convictions. “Listen, I believe you. Every word you’ve said. You are onto something here, and the public needs to know about it. Dr. Donovan, please put your findings out there and allow people to draw their own conclusions, choose their own path, and give them time to prepare accordingly.”
In an attempt to shield Ashby, Jake stepped in. “Ella, they have a lot of work to do, and I’m sure we can pick up this conversation at another time. Perhaps we can have your cell phone number and—”
“No, Jake,” Ashby began. “She’s right, to an extent. Ella, I would be glad to speak with you but off the record at first. Can you commit to that? A responsible journalist would say yes.”
“Yes, of course,” she replied.
Ashby turned to Jake. “Can we add two more for dinner tonight?”
Jake scowled and glanced at Dusty, who shrugged.
“I’ve a bottle of Glenlivet Scotch whisky to lighten the mood a wee bit,” added Simon in an attempt at Scottish détente.
“Okay,” said Jake. “But the conversation stays at my place unless Ashby approves otherwise. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
Chapter 42
Jake’s Cabin
Yellowstone
Within the first thirty minutes of Ella and Simon’s arrival at Jake’s cabin, drinks were flowing, glasses were clinking, and the group was soaking in Simon’s Scottish accent as he told story after story. Eventually, Jake began to prepare dinner, and Ashby left her grad students in the capable hands of Simon so she could take a walk down by the creek with Ella. The waning daylight glistened across the water as it ran into the river rock and diverted onto a different path downstream.
“Ella, it’s just us. I want to trust you.”
“I understand your hesitation. The media doesn’t have the best reputation overall, but mine is stellar. As you’ve undoubtedly noticed, I was born with a disadvantage that has forced me to prove myself in ways others didn’t have to. My journalistic integrity and commitment to learning about the scientific subject matter I cover in my reporting sets me apart from my counterparts. Please understand that I’m not trying to make a name for myself in some way. Actually, I’m here to help.”
Ashby smiled at the petite woman and nodded. She looked across the water and her mind wandered to the days leading up to the eruption at Mount Pinatubo. As a child, she was shielded and protected from news events by her parents. However, in their simple, one-room home, she was fully aware of their discussions.
Her parents had wrung their hands for two days as they agonized over evacuating or staying to warn the locals. They had come to love the Filipino people, especially those who lived in the jungles around Mount Pinatubo. Her father was adamant that they’d be safe. He was wrong.
In his defense, based upon Ashby’s recollection and the words of her mother, the threat had been grossly understated. It was apparent the Manila government didn’t want to cause an undue panic. Ashby was beginning to see the parallels at Yellowstone.
“Okay,” said Ashby. “I have a couple more days of research to conduct, but, Ella, I believe Yellowstone is capable of erupting at any time. Now, whether it is a medium-scale eruption or a super-colossal eruption like the one that occurred six hundred thousand years ago is open for debate. I will say this, however, with one comes the other. Even a VEI 5 eruption, like St. Helens, would likely trigger a super eruption.”
“When?”
“I don’t know, and nobody can say with certainty. After some additional testing, I can pinpoint whether it’s most likely days or months. But in my opinion, based upon my current research, it won’t take years.”
Ella touched Ashby’s arm. “Before you tell me about your findings, may I ask how bad it can get?”
“Mount Tambora was the largest eruption ever recorded and studied by humans with a VEI 7 rating. The eruption occurred in 1815 with an explosion so loud it could be heard over a thousand miles away. But there were events leading up to the eruption that should have warned the ten thousand islanders who died. Five days prior, small tremors and midsized earthquakes occurred on the island. There was some evidence of new vents and fissures appearing on the side of the mountain.”
“I’m familiar with Tambora,” added Ella. “Didn’t it lead to the so-called year without summer?”
“Good. Yes, it did. Sixty megatons of sulfur together with thirty-six cubic miles of ash, pumice and noxious gases soared into the atmosphere. As the pyroclastic flow mixed with atmospheric gases, substantial amounts of sunlight were prevented from reaching the Earth’s surface, which reduced the average global temperature by three degrees.”
“That doesn’t sound like much, but it is, right?” asked Ella.
“The immediate effects were profound,” replied Ashby. “The local and surrounding islanders died from disease and famine, since crops would not grow. The global cooling caused sporadic periods of heavy snow in western Europe and eastern North America with crop-killing frost from June through August. That’s why historians call it the Year Without a Summer.”
“Is it safe to say that an eruption here—even if subdued, so to speak, from the worst-case VEI
8—could cause similar conditions worldwide?”
Ashby grimaced and replied as she wrapped her arms around herself in a subconscious comforting gesture. “Worse. When the sulfur dioxide gas combines with the readily available hydrogen gas in the atmosphere, hundreds of millions of tons of sulfuric acid will form. This sulfuric acid will be condensed into tiny droplets that aren’t visible to the naked eye, necessarily. In effect, the sulfuric acid will remain in our atmosphere like an aerosol cloud.
“The strong upper-level winds of the jet stream will quickly blow this aerosol cloud of sulfuric acid from west to east at sixty miles per hour around the planet. In addition, because the jet stream shifts from north to south in a wavelike pattern, the northern hemisphere will be blanketed first, followed by the southern hemisphere as the sulfuric acid cloud expands.”
“How many months will it take for the cloud to circumnavigate the planet?”
“No, Ella, not months. Most likely, depending upon the wind speed and the weight of the particles, fourteen days is more likely. The cloud will be carried around at the will of the stratospheric jet streams. Eventually, many months, or even years later, the aerosol cloud will drop to the lowest part of our planet’s atmosphere, the troposphere, where rains will eventually cleanse the ash from the air.”
Ella appeared confused. “Why would it take years for this to take place? It rains all the time.”
Ashby nodded as she understood Ella’s bewilderment. “Rain comes from clouds, and clouds are formed when warm air rises from the Earth’s surface and mixes with the cooler air in the stratosphere. The cloud cover of the planet works to cool the air at the surface, which prevents cloud formation.
