CHAPTER 5
Rina
TWO MONTHS AFTER THE SUNDA TRENCH MEGA-QUAKE:
Amt. Cataclysmic Event
9,210: Hail storms – 7,452 softball size within the tropics
406: Earthquakes - sixteen over 9.0
202: Tsunamis over sixty feet in height
25: Acid rain - total devastation of six major Cities worldwide, including
Beijing, Rome, and Sydney
14: Category 5 hurricanes/typhoons within three weeks
“Look at those numbers on your screen,” said Rina, tired of arguing with Shiro on his laptop. “Every day that list gets bigger. How could the effects of one earthquake, in one trench, cause the whole planet to self destruct?”
“I repeat,” said Shiro, “the Sunda is where it started and that’s where we’ll find the answers. Quit arguing with the scientific community. You’ll just get yourself in trouble again.”
Rina grunted. The laptop was voicing his words aloud and she refused to listen. No one saw the problems like she did.
Another angle, she thought.
“The epicenter was over one thousand miles in circumference,” she typed, “that’s an enormous area for one event, so why didn’t the SDL pick up any seismic activity in the Sunda before the initial quake? The SDL has never failed us, yet for months prior to the mega-quake, the Sunda’s activity was only minimal, not showing any signs of a mega-quake. In fact, none of the SDLs over any ocean trench reflected the kind of stress needed to warrant such a tremendous shift in the plates.”
“Okay, I can’t explain that,” replied Shiro, “but I’m sure, in time, we’ll find the answer. There’s a first time for everything and this phenomenon is definitely a first.”
Rina made a loud sigh. He was right. She hated when he was right.
“Look,” said Shiro, “President Larson has ordered OSRI to assist the USGS in solving the Sunda problem and he sent the Secretary of Defense, Rina,” he reiterated, “the Secretary of Defense, here, to help us and although he’s basically taken over the place, he is doing his job. The only thing I don’t like is that your father is helpless, and the last thing he needs is for you to be a brat, so just go along with it. Everyone else is obeying orders. Don’t be so difficult....”
Rina stared at the screen. Shiro’s words echoed in her ears, far away and distant. The answer given for the Sunda shift was lame. They said the plate zone at the trench had somehow weakened, causing an enormous uplift in the crust, offsetting the other tectonic plates and the magnetic field of the planet. The amount of energy released in the mega-quake was close to one hundred sixty trillion tons of TNT. The thought sent chills down her spine.
So much power lay within the planet, yet its inhabitants are so frail and sometimes stupid.
“...I think deep down inside Bauman likes you,” continued Shiro. “Maybe he knows you’re a virgin and wants your body.”
She heard that part and her eyes popped wide open. “Don’t start with me, butthead, I know where you live,” she typed, ready to verbally whip him. She was grateful her parents had instilled a strong set of morals; it kept her alive and safe from the mutant form of AIDS that killed two of her friends, Vera and Callie. “If they had sent Uncle Payton to help us, I would be okay. He’s an admiral in the Navy and he has more heart. But no, they sent Godzilla with an attitude.”
“I repeat myself, Bauman’s the SecDef, dingbat,” said Shiro, “he makes the call. Got to go. Bauman’s giving me the evil eye. I think he knows I’m talking to you. Bye.”
She sat back in her brown leather chair and looked around the MCC. The place was empty. Everyone was at a meeting she wasn’t invited to, and for that she was glad. Bauman finally got the hint after she disrupted the meetings with questions he couldn’t answer.
She recalled the day he arrived. A barrage of soldiers forced their way into the building, taking positions at every exit on every floor, hoisting their rifles and pistols in clear sight, upsetting many of the local scientists. Her father, Justin, tried to convince Bauman they were on the same side and military tactics weren’t necessary, but Bauman refused to listen, insisting OSRI was now under military control. Justin had no choice but to relinquish his authority.
At their initial meeting, Bauman told everyone he expected conduct like that of the military, standing at attention and saluting him when he entered a room. She raised her hand and told him she’d salute him the day he was elected the President of the United States, but until then, forget it. The comment sent invisible daggers out of Bauman’s eyes. From then on, he did everything in his power to annoy her, like installing a special three-inch-thick sliding security door in the MCC, where she worked ninety-eight percent of the time. It was bad enough the place felt like a dungeon; now it was a tomb.
The only good that came with him was that now she had some, albeit limited, access to the satellites, something the President approved against Bauman’s wishes. She shifted in her seat, feeling the rectangular shape of the PDA in her shorts pocket. It never left her side, especially since Bauman’s arrival. She checked her watch.
Four p.m. and I still haven’t eaten breakfast.
She tapped a key on her keyboard. “Access Error” was blinking in bright yellow on her screen. The satellite, Telstar VI, was malfunctioning and not relaying information from the probe over the Mariana Trench. Bauman’s response had been: “You’ll get it when the satellite’s fixed, so can it.” He was always in a bad mood.
A dark green sleeve came from behind and plopped an eight-inch-thick computer printout on her desk. Her heart nearly stopped beating from fright. The nasty, old-man cologne told her it was Bauman. She turned to see a tight-lipped man with beady, steel-gray eyes trying to bore holes through her head. His wide, stiff jaw and cratered skin gave him a raw I-could-kill-you look. He demanded perfection from everyone he worked with, a personality flaw Rina loved to irritate.
“I told you I would deliver.” With his hands clasped behind his back, Bauman rocked back and forth on his feet. Perfectly placed medals sparkled on his dark green jacket.
“And not a moment too soon,” she said dryly. She’d been waiting almost two weeks for the data.
“This is the latest from twenty minutes ago. I hope you’re satisfied.”
“So the satellite’s repaired?” she asked, flipping through the pages.
“No, not yet. The satellite’s programming is difficult and Rick only managed this data by chance. You’re fortunate he got it.”
“Why not let me have a whack at it?” She gazed up at him. His salt and pepper hair was thin on top, with a scant ten strands flipped to the side. He should just go bald. “Rick could sit next to me and watch everything I do. I could have it fixed in no time.”
“Not a chance. We don’t allow traitors to access our satellites.”
His remark sent ripples of anger from her head down to her toes. She stood up and glared into his eyes, wanting to smack the smirk off his face.
“At least I only used the satellites to study geology,” she said. “You’re using them to abuse the privacy of others.”
His expression went from a smile to a solid glare. If hate could physically attack from someone’s eyes, she would have been mutilated.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Her grin widened. “I think you do, General,” she purred, taking a step closer to him. “You’ve been a bad boy. How many drives did my virus burn up? It was fun imagining you and your creep squad running around the place with fire extinguishers.”
Bauman’s teeth dug into his bottom lip so hard she was sure it would bleed. He yanked the brown, leather chair out from behind her and kicked it hard. It flew across the room, crashing beneath the wall screens. She didn’t flinch.
Another temper tantrum. This was a common occurrence with Bauman. Yesterday, a computer monitor sprouted wings after she told him he was a pathetic little worm. She knew it was dangerous to provoke him but it was
almost impossible not to.
She glanced at the helpless chair lying on its side. “I see you didn’t take your pills. Maybe they should make them chewable.”
Bauman's face went bright red. He clenched his thick fists in an effort to quell his tremors. “If you weren’t his daughter, I’d ....”
“You’d what?” Her voice was stone cold.
“This isn’t over,” he ground out, then stormed out of the room.
Another day’s work, she thought, grinning wide. She pulled another chair over and sat down.
The phone rang and she tapped the speaker button. “Speak.”
“It’s me, Dad. I’m on my way to the International Peace Conference. Behave yourself and don’t aggravate the General.”
“No problem,” she said, eyeing the chair. “Tell me something, why did they pick Memphis to hold the most important conference of the century? It’s the first time in history every leader of every country will be gathered together in one place, and they pick the center of hick town?”
“Beats me,” answered Justin. “Bauman picked the site. He said it was the safest and easiest to protect because of its location. Anyway, your father will be rubbing elbows with the high and mighty.”
Rina heard a clinking sound.
“Oh crap,” said Justin.
“What happened?”
“I dropped my keys and the cover broke off my pocket knife, the one your mother gave me.”
“First of all, twenty keys are too much,” she said. “You need to lighten your load.”
“I need every one of these keys,” he said firmly. “I just don’t remember what each one is for. I can’t believe I broke it.” There was sadness in his voice.
“You still have your ring,” she said. “We can fix the knife when you get back.”
Rina squeezed the necklace beneath her red T-shirt. Five years ago, after the violent eruption of Mt. Vesuvius, her mother, Mary, a famous geologist, found remnants of a shiny black ore similar to onyx. Mary designed a pendant for Rina and a ring for Justin, and made them swear to wear them forever. Her mother was very sentimental. Rina could feel the shapes of diamonds and gems surrounding the stone, which was over two inches in height and oval shaped. The necklace was too exquisite for cut-off jean shorts and a red T-shirt, so, as always, it remained hidden.
She changed the subject. “You’re going to have a grand time.”
“Yeah, right,” he answered sardonically. “I’ll call you when I get there. Love you.”
“Bye, dad.”
Wall screen four displayed a satellite view of a cloudless United States. Memphis sat over the New Madrid Fault Zone, not a straight-lined fault like the San Andreas but rather a rift in the North American plate, a seismically active area running under five states. Back in the years 1811-1812, numerous earthquakes jolted the region, the biggest over 8.0 on the Richter Scale. The Mississippi River changed its course for seven hours, whole islands disappeared, and even the sand along the Mississippi boiled. The earthquakes of the time altered the land so much maps had to be redone. She typed on her keyboard and checked the Richter. Nothing.
She heard the door slide open and turned around. Shiro came stomping down the stairs of the MCC, his paunch bouncing with each step. He loved Italian food and it showed. A pair of thick, black-rimmed glasses glinted beneath unruly strands of straight, black hair. No matter how much gel he used, they waved like blades of wheat in the wind.
“Hey,” he said. That was his formal hello.
His oversized front teeth created a slight overbite and a slurpy lisp in his speech. He grabbed a chair from across the aisle, wiped it off with his handkerchief and sat next to her. His Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder had gotten much better since the meds.
“I’ll bet you thought I was David Callaghan,” he said with a smirk.
His relentless poking about her ex-boyfriend, David, made her want to bash him sometimes.
“David’s a low-life idiot who thinks with his pants, so why do you bring him up all the time?”
“Because it irritates you. Why else?”
Rina rolled her eyes and grunted. David was her third and last mistake. The walks on the beach, the flowers, the exquisite dates, were all fabricated to get her in bed. For her to trust any man again, he would have to prove himself big time.
“What’s this?” Shiro asked, picking up the readout.
“It’s the latest data on the Mariana,” she said, typing and keeping her focus on the monitor. “Bauman just brought it in. I still can’t get into Telstar VI.”
Shiro spoke as he skimmed through the pages. “The meeting was the usual ‘get it done or you’re fired’ stuff.”
His words seemed to bubble from the sides of his mouth. He needed braces but was too stubborn to see a dentist.
“Ugh...Rina...this is an old readout from the Mariana.”
She turned and looked at him strangely.
“I downloaded this before the mega-quake,” he said, pointing to a barely noticeable adjustment of the number six. “I remember writing this alteration. This data is at least nine weeks old.”
Her attention went back to the computer screen. “If he lied about this data...he’s lying about the satellites.”
She stared at the screen. To break into Telstar VI would end her career. She would be thrown off the project. But if Bauman was tampering with the satellites, it could only mean he was up to no good. Her gut told her to stay out of it.
“I’m going in,” she said.
“How? I thought you gave up Jordy.”
“I did...sort of.”
“I knew you didn’t,” said Shiro. “I can’t believe you, woman. You ask for trouble.”
“You know I don’t handle authority well. Besides, I haven’t used him until now.”
“Wait,” said Shiro, gripping her hands to halt her typing. “If you do this, your life in geology is over.”
“I know,” she said, “but I don’t trust Bauman and if something bad happens, I’ll never forgive myself for not trying to stop him.”
The overhead speaker clicked on.
“This is General Bauman. We, your government, personally appreciate the effort everyone has put forth on this project. Most of you have been working eighteen-hour days and sleeping here at the facility. As a reward, a room is reserved at the Pirate’s Moon Restaurant for all to enjoy dinner on us. Your buses leave in five minutes. We expect all employees to attend, so drop what you’re doing and join us. Thank you for your time and patience and, of course, your loyalty and hard work.”
“Great!” said Shiro, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s go eat. I’m hungry.”
“I’m in,” said Rina. “What the—” Her typing sped up. “I’m detecting homing signals in the Mariana Trench.”
“It’s probably the SDL. Let’s go.”
“No. These are coming from within the trench.” She continued typing. “Oh crap.” Her mouth dropped open. The info had to be wrong.
“What is it?” asked Shiro.
“Who would do this?” she said concerned.
“Do what?” he demanded.
“Three hundred and fifty nuclear warheads have been anchored to the walls of the Mariana Trench in the Challenger Deep.”
“What?” he shrieked.
“Oh crap.”
“Tell me!” he said desperately.
“You were right. The readings Bauman gave me were wrong. The Mariana’s width and length has almost doubled. It’s over twenty-five hundred miles long, seventy-eight miles wide, and its depth is near fifty thousand feet.” She sat back, astonished. “Someone is going to blow open the biggest crack in the world.”
A raspy voice came from the top of the stairs. “I knew it was just a matter of time before you hacked into the satellite.”
It was Bauman.
Rina and Shiro jumped to their feet. Two soldiers dressed in black and white camouflage suits guarded the exit door. Another four came tromping down the steps in front o
f Bauman, hoisting XL-20s, automatic rifles equipped with laser pulses that could burn four-inch deep holes through solid steel from three hundred feet. Attached to their wide black belts were the latest in military small arms, the S-8, a medium sized laser-guided automatic pistol with quadruple the power of a Magnum .500. The guards took positions beside her and Shiro.
“What’s this?” asked Rina, eyeing the silencers on the guards’ weapons.
Bauman came to sit on the computer desk in front of them. Leisurely, he swung his legs, small froths of spit cornered his ugly smile.
“You mean you really don’t know? I’ll show you.”
Bauman nodded at a soldier who immediately whacked Shiro in the head with the butt of his gun. Shiro fell to his knees.
“No!” shouted Rina.
The guards held her back. Shiro struggled to his feet, his hand to his temple, blood oozing between his fingers. A soldier put a gun to Shiro’s bleeding temple.
Unable to control her emotions, she blurted out, “You no-good—”
“Wrong words,” Bauman chuckled.
One of the soldiers grabbed her hair and pulled her backwards while the other guard rammed his fist into her stomach. Pain exploded through her torso as air burst from of her lungs.
“That’s enough!” yelled Shiro.
Bauman nodded. “I hate her name calling.”
“Why?” asked Rina, the air barely escaping her throat.
“Because you’re meddling is blocking the way of progress.”
“Progress?” asked Shiro.
“You want it this way,” said Rina, ignoring the fire in her stomach. “You want half the population dead, don’t you?”
Bauman’s thin lips formed an evil grin. “I knew you wouldn’t obey the rules, and I couldn’t wait until you broke them. By the way, Doctor, the building is empty of all civilians. No one will hear you scream.”
“What are you saying?” asked Shiro anxiously.
“Only a sick mind would want to conquer the world,” said Rina. “You’re the one tampering with the satellites.”
“Affirmative,” said Bauman. “I couldn’t let you discover the Mariana’s deterioration. We figure the whole ordeal will take less than one hour. It’s the quickest and most reliable plan ever conceived.”
“Who’s we?” asked Shiro.
“We are the New Continuum,” Bauman said proudly. “An organization determined to unite this world, something those useless world leaders could never accomplish.”
Rina’s heart sank. “You’re taking out the Peace Conference.”
“It’s the perfect plan,” said Bauman. “No one will suspect a hundred and fifty nukes are planted within the fault zone near Memphis. A mini-sub will be our detonation device in the Mariana. When it ignites, so will the nukes in the New Madrid.”
Rina tried to yank free. “You’d be killing—”
“This discussion is over,” Bauman interrupted.
He jumped off the desk and straightened his moss green tie. One of the guards swung the butt of his black rifle and Shiro hit the floor, unconscious.
“No!” cried Rina.
She elbowed the stomach of the soldier on her right then back-fisted the other in the face. She lunged for Bauman but something hard bashed the back of her head and she hit the floor with a grunt. A soldier grabbed her arm and yanked her up to standing. The room was spinning as she wobbled on her feet, trying to gather her senses.
Bauman approached with a malevolent smile. “This one’s mine.”
The last thing Rina saw was Bauman’s wide fist heading for her face.