Rogue Wave

by Boyd Morrison

  "Let's try again. The phones down there aren't very reliable. You keep trying to get Steve, and I'll call the operator."

  The operator didn't have any better luck getting through, so Kai had her attempt several different numbers they had in the Rolodex for Christmas Island. None of them went through.

  "Can you get the main island operator for me?" Kai said.

  She tried without success. Just that fast busy signal again.

  "All I'm getting is an out-of-order tone, sir," she said.

  "Is that unusual?"

  "The power goes out down there on a regular basis. It always shuts everything down, including communications. Comms also failed once when there was a fire at the switching station on the island, but we haven't had any problems lately. It's probably just a power outage. Would you like me to continue trying?"

  "Yes, please." Kai told her who he was and asked her to call him back when she got through. Their inability to get through to anyone was troubling, and Kai couldn't help feel like there was pattern to all of this that he was missing. Still, he didn't have the hard data to show that it was anything other than a coincidence.

  Reggie didn't have any more luck contacting someone than Kai did.

  "Any signal from the tide gauge?" Kai asked, hopeful that it was just a temporary glitch.

  "Not a blip," Reggie said.

  Kai told Reggie the operator's theory about a power outage.

  "That's a fine idea," Reggie said, "except for one thing. The tide gauge has a battery backup."

  Kai had forgotten about that. Equipment upkeep was not his strength. "It has enough juice for 24 hours, right?"

  "Up to 24 hours at full capacity. Of course, that's if the battery is charged. Steve has been known to put off tide gauge maintenance in the past. It's possible the battery is dead. Then a power outage would definitely take the gauge offline."

  "So we were expecting a wave to reach Christmas Island at 9:25 AM," Kai said, summing up the series of coincidences. "The tide gauge was supposed to send a signal at 9:30 AM. But there was a power outage on the island that started sometime between when we received the last tide gauge reading at 8:30 AM and we were supposed to receive the 9:30 signal. And because the battery backup was not charged, the power outage knocked out the comm equipment on the tide gauge." Despite the skepticism in his voice, the scenario was possible. Kai would have felt better if the 8:30 signal had also failed to come in, but there it was on the log sheet, right on time.

  Reggie opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated.

  "What?" Kai said.

  "Well, I just thought I should bring it up. Do you want me to send out a warning?"

  "A warning?" Brad said. "Oh, this'll be good."

  "Brad, please," Kai said, putting up his hand to show that he wasn't in the mood for Brad's giddy enthusiasm. He needed to concentrate.

  Sending out a tsunami warning would be a bold step. The situation didn't fit any established scenarios. Kai would simply be going on gut.

  Issuing a tsunami warning was not a responsibility that he took lightly, particularly because he had been on the job for less than a year. Doing so would cause a massive disruption to businesses and tourists in Hawaii, not to mention the enormous cost associated with an evacuation.

  In 1994 a huge earthquake near the Kurile Islands in Russia measuring a magnitude of 8.1 prompted the PTWC to issue a tsunami warning for the Pacific region. Despite getting some tide measurements at Midway and Wake Islands that indicated a surge could be expected in Hawaii, there was no way to tell whether that wave would be as big as the 1946 tsunami. In fact, a tsunami did arrive, but it never rose above three feet. The tsunami warning had cost the state an estimated $30 million in lost productivity and other associated costs. Because no destructive tsunami occurred, the PTWC got a black eye from the public.

  More recently, only two months after Kai arrived at the PTWC, he had issued his first warning based on a magnitude 7.6 quake off the coast of Alaska, but when tide data showed no destructive waves were expected, he called it off 45 minutes later. The financial cost had been minimal, but it didn't help the public trust the system. Many news programs had repeatedly shown videos of frightened residents evacuating the city, even after the warning had been rescinded. The false alarm was implicated as just another failure of federal disaster readiness, even though they had followed procedure to the letter.

  A repeat of the full 1994 warning would be even more expensive than it had been then, at least $50 million. And issuing two false alarms in his first year on the job might not kill Kai's career, but it certainly wouldn't help.

  "So you think we should issue the warning?" he asked Reggie.

  "No, not at all. In fact, I don't think we should. I just wanted to throw it out there. But you're the one who gets the big bucks to make the call."

  Kai paused. The signal loss was a strange coincidence, yes, and he couldn't help thinking that there was some small nugget of information that he wasn't seeing that would offer an explanation for what was happening. But the raw data didn't justify a tsunami warning. Historically, the earthquake just wasn't strong enough. Even with a stronger earthquake, a tsunami was unlikely. With the previous tsunami warning Kai had issued, the one that resulted in the false alarm, the earthquake magnitude was over the threshold of 7.5, so he was able to defend his call because he had done everything according to procedure.

  But in this situation, for such a small earthquake, they would generally wait until they got a tide reading showing that an actual tsunami was coming before they would issue a warning. If Kai issued a warning based on just his hunch and it turned out to be another false alarm, there would be no defense. Not only would he be criticized by everyone from the governor to the NOAA administrator, but the public would get so frustrated by the repeated false alarms that they might start to ignore subsequent warnings.

  "Kai?" Reggie said. "What should we do?"

  Kai sighed. Despite his misgivings, he just couldn't issue a warning. Not yet. Not without knowing more.

  "We're going to wait," Kai said. "Let's hope the power comes back on soon and we can get on with our day."

  Reggie nodded and got back on the phone to keep attempting to reach Christmas Island, while Kai tried to ignore the nagging little voice in his head that said he was making the wrong decision.

  Chapter 10

  9:42 AM

  As Teresa now saw, the Memorial Day holiday's beautiful weather brought out not only the travelers from the mainland, but what seemed like every local on the island. Waikiki was packed. Street parking spaces were nonexistent. Rachel had given them a free pass to the Grand Hawaiian's parking lot, but it was full, so Teresa and the girls finally pulled into the garage at the massive Hyatt Regency Waikiki. By this time, a discussion between her and Mia had escalated into a heated argument.

  "Mom!" said Mia. "Rachel let Lani get her ears pierced. And my friend Monica got a tattoo on her ankle."

  Teresa popped open the hatch. "Ears are one thing. If you want to get them pierced, I'm with you. But a navel piercing? You're too young. And don't even start with the tattoos." Mia had been bringing up the subject of belly button piercing for over a month.

  "What is the difference between getting my belly button pierced and my ears pierced?" Mia's voice was headed into whine country.

  "Ear piercing is so common now that it's just a decoration. Belly button piercing still has more of a sexual connotation. You're not mature enough for it."

  Mia pulled her boogie board out and slammed it to the ground.

  "Be careful with that!" Teresa said. "It's not yours. Are you trying to prove my point?"

  "Mom, I'm almost 14. I know a lot of girls my age that have them."

  "Maturity is not just about chronological age," said Teresa.

  "And it's not sexual."

  "Sure it isn't." Teresa locked the car and headed toward the sunlight beckoning from the garage exit. "Come on. I want to see what the legend of Waikiki is all about.
"

  Mia reluctantly picked up her board and followed her mother.

  "Lani," Mia said, "don't you think Mom should let me get it pierced?"

  Lani obviously didn't want to get involved, so she uttered something as noncommittal as possible. "I don't know."

  Mia heaved an elaborate sigh. "When did you get your ears pierced, Mom?" Ah, Teresa thought, changing the angle of attack. Not gonna work, kiddo.

  "When I was 16. I was lucky your Nana let me do it then."

  "Yeah but…"

  "The next words out of your mouth better not be 'You're old.'"

  "But things are different now, is what I was going to say."

  Teresa stopped at the exit. "Mia, I just don't like the idea of you lifting your shirt to show some boy your navel ring. I know it's totally illogical given that you are going to be prancing around the beach in a bikini in a few minutes, but that's the way it is. For now. We can talk about it again when you turn 15." Teresa knew that this wouldn't be the last time she heard about it until Mia was 15, but she was clear that it wouldn't be brought up again today. Mia ground her teeth, but said nothing.

  "Good," Teresa said. "Let's go find some beach."

  They emerged from the Hyatt onto Kalakaua Avenue, the main drag up and down Waikiki. To the west, the view was obscured by the hundreds of high-rise hotels and condominiums that extended to the office buildings of downtown Honolulu. In the other direction, Kalakaua stretched past the last hotel on Waikiki about a half-mile away, where it passed the zoo and Kapi'olani Regional Park until it ran into Diamond Head, the massive extinct volcano that served as Honolulu's dominant landmark.

  Teresa loved the views, and just for fun, she had looked at some real estate web sites before coming, but after about fifteen minutes she'd stopped. The homes here were way out of her range.

  The Honolulu landscape resulted in some of the priciest real estate in the world. The narrow strip from the peaks to the beach was less than two miles wide in most places, meaning the only direction to grow the city was up. Dozens of immense luxury hotels-some more than 30-stories tall-loomed over Honolulu, and thousand-square-foot condominium units didn't go for less than half a million dollars. The majority of the hotels and condos were concentrated in Waikiki.

  Once Teresa had seen a map of Waikiki in her guide book, she realized why it was so packed. Waikiki itself was actually a peninsula bordered by the Pacific Ocean on the south and the Ala Wai Canal on the west and north. The canal, built to drain the swampland that Waikiki stood on until the 1920s, drew a sharp boundary between the magnificent skyscrapers of Waikiki and the squat landscape on the other side. Only three bridges near the Ala Moana shopping complex linked the peninsula to the rest of Honolulu on that side, and the resulting traffic jams were a constant source of irritation for drivers. The only other way off the peninsula was to the east, through the Kapahulu residential neighborhood that abutted the zoo and the Ala Wai municipal golf course.

  Despite the astronomical costs of land, many buildings still dated from the post-war building boom that saw smaller 10-story buildings go up. They provided cheaper and quirkier accommodations for those who couldn't afford the mega resorts. Teresa knew it was only a matter of time before they would be replaced in order to squeeze every last dollar from tourists' pockets. She supposed that was the cost of capitalism.

  Teresa, followed by Mia and Lani, plunged into the throng of people crowding Kalakaua Avenue and crossed the road to Waikiki Beach. They passed a magnificent banyan tree and stepped onto the beach itself.

  As Teresa searched for a spot big enough for the three of them, she heard people speaking Japanese, French, German, Spanish, and a few languages she couldn't place. Like all beaches in Hawaii, Waikiki was open to the public, so a mish-mash of all walks of life mingled with the guests of the expensive resorts.

  Two boys, both about 16, walked past. Tan and lean, they looked like younger versions of Brad. They gave the girls an appraising look and the taller of the boys spoke to them as they went by.

  "The surf's a lot better by our condo." He pointed his thumb in the direction of Diamond Head.

  The girls laughed, and the shorter boy yanked his friend and kept walking. The boys' attention to her daughter tickled Teresa, but she hid her amusement.

  She was paying attention to the boys and didn't notice a grungy man in blond dreadlocks going in the other direction until she bumped into him. He said "Buds?" in a voice so low that Teresa wasn't sure she heard him properly. But she had treated enough homeless people to know not to encourage him, so she didn't stop him when he continued on without pausing.

  "What did he say?" said Mia.

  "Buds," Lani said. "It was a Rasta trying to sell pot."

  "Oh great," Teresa said. "They've got drug dealers on the beach?"

  "Just ignore them. They're harmless."

  "And how do you know about them?"

  Lani rolled her eyes. "I've never bought any. But they're all over the place. Why do you think dad won't let me go down to the beach near our house?"

  "Maybe he's got a point."

  "He's overprotective. I can handle those guys."

  "Well, I'm not worried about it here. There must be thousands of people on the beach today. But one of us should always stay with our stuff."

  Teresa stopped at an open patch near an impressive hotel called the Outrigger Waikiki. She dropped her bag and started spreading out her towel. She had a clear view to the breakwaters on either side, and the waves coming in were good-sized, but still mild enough for safe boogie boarding.

  "How's this?"

  Mia made a show of propping up her boogie board in the sand. "So Mom, since it's safe around here, Lani and I are going to walk down the beach."

  "We just got here. Don't you even want to get in the water? Look how clear and blue it is. It's gorgeous."

  "Yeah, it's great," Mia said, stripping down to her bikini. "But I saw some great T-shirts back there, and I want to get some souvenirs while we're here."

  Lani piped in, now down to her bikini as well. "Yeah, and we want to get sarongs for the luau tonight."

  Teresa wasn't very concerned about letting the girls go off on their own. Mia had been babysitting for three years now, so walking around the beach, especially with someone else, wasn't worrisome. Teresa looked at her watch. It was still a couple of hours until lunchtime.

  "All right. How long do you think you'll be gone?"

  The girls looked at each other and shrugged in unison.

  "There's a lot to see," Mia said. "Maybe an hour or two."

  "You have some money?"

  Mia waved her wallet. Babysitting money.

  "Sunscreen?"

  "We put it on at the house."

  "OK. But be back by 11:30. After a morning in the sun, I'm going to be starving."

  "Thanks, Mom," Mia said as she and Lani turned toward Diamond Head and began walking. "You're the best."

  "Bye, Aunt Teresa," said Lani.

  Teresa gave them a wave. She was actually relieved to have a little time alone. After she liberally applied sunscreen, her plan was to immerse herself in a good mystery novel for a peaceful morning.

  Chapter 11

  9:57 AM

  It had been half an hour since the tide gauge reading from Christmas Island was supposed to be transmitted, and Kai was growing more worried by the minute. Reggie's calls to Steve Bryant, their maintenance guy on the island, still went unanswered. Kai could sense that Reggie's tension had ratcheted up a notch.

  "What the hell is going on down there?" Reggie said to no one in particular.

  The phone rang, and Kai swept the receiver up in the hope that it was the operator with good news.

  "Dr. Tanaka, this is Shirley Nagle, the operator you spoke with earlier."

  "You got through?" Kai asked hopefully.

  "Well, no I haven't," she said. He slumped in disappointment. "But I wanted to call you back since you said it was so urgent. I asked another operator here, Ch
arlie, if he had any other ideas. He said that, in addition to the undersea cable, there's a backup satellite hookup on the island. But the funny thing is, I'm not getting through to that either."

  "Why is that funny?"

  "It's just strange. Charlie swears up and down that the satellite transmitter has a backup generator in case of power loss, so I should be getting a connection, even if the main island power is down. But I'm getting nothing. No signal whatsoever. It's like the island isn't there any more."

  "Jesus," Kai said, the implications too terrible to grasp. It's like the island isn't there any more.

  "Excuse me?" Shirley said.

  "Nothing. Can you please keep trying to reach them?"

  "Sure. We've already got a couple of other people on it. I'll let you know as soon as we get through."

  Her voice sounded upbeat, but Kai didn't share her optimism. He had the terrible feeling that they'd never hear from anyone on the island again.

  There were at least 3000 people on Christmas Island. Kai couldn't accept the possibility that it had been wiped out by a tsunami on his watch. He felt the beginnings of a headache and popped a couple of aspirins from a bottle in his desk. Although he felt awful about what the lost contact might mean, he couldn't let anything slow him down.

  Reggie saw the look on Kai's face. "What's the matter?" he asked.

  Kai told him about the satellite transmitter.

  "I think a tsunami hit Christmas Island," he said. "A big one."

  "How is that possible?"

  "I don't know. Could it have been a landslide? Maybe the seamount has been building for a while and now a major eruption triggered a landslide down the face of it."

  "No way," Reggie said. "There have been no major seismic disturbances in that region for the past ten years. I checked the database." He was already working on his bid to get credit for his discovery. "The seamount couldn't be big enough to cause a major landslide at this point."