He stared at the displays, not quite believing how quickly the case was falling. It was indeed free-falling. He glanced over at the opening, which was only about a meter wide. How wide was this vent below? It had to widen considerably for the case not to have hit the sides.
“Two kilometers. Five hundred degrees. “Three kilometers. Seven-fifty.
“Five kilometers. One thousand. “Seven kilometers. Two thousand. “Nine kilometers. Two thousand, five. “Ten kilometers. Three thousand.”
As if he felt the intense heat, beads of sweat were on the lieutenant’s forehead. He blinked as all the displays went dead. He quickly hit several buttons, getting the last readings before they disappeared. “Final numbers: eleven thousand, six hundred forty-two meters down. Temperature. Three thousand eight hundred degrees. I would assume it hit molten magma.” He opened up a geographic survey that had been faxed to the carrier upon request. “The crust is around twelve thousand meters thick here. Gentlemen, we’ve got a vent straight down to the outer core, which appears to be rising under pressure.”
“Talk to me,” Turcotte demanded.
Quinn sounded distracted, which Turcotte imagined he must be, as the officer was overwhelmed with data. “Uh, there’s a report from the fleet. They sent some kind of probe down the thermal vent. Appears to go all the way to the outer core. And they think the magma is rising in the vent.”
“So Aspasia’s Shadow speaks the truth for once.” Yakov was disappointed.
“About the vent,” Turcotte said. He turned to the mike. “What about this Ring of Fire stuff?” “That’s the term,” Quinn began, “for the fault lines along the various tectonic plates of the landmasses that meet with the suboceanic plates of the Pacific. It encircles the entire Pacific Ocean. Along these fault lines you have volcanoes, both active and inactive, and areas prone to earthquakes. It runs along the California coast, down along the western edge of South America—”
“Wait a second,” Turcotte interrupted, looking at the screen in front of him, which showed the coastline of South America that Quinn had just mentioned. “Easter Island’s a long way from South America. How can it be part of this ring?”
“There’s a plate between South America and Easter Island and the Pacific Plate,” Quinn responded. “It’s called the Nazca Plate. Easter Island lies on the juncture of the Nazca Plate and the Pacific Plate. That fault line also extends north and links with the South American plate fault line and becomes the fault that runs along the West Coast of the US.
“This thing runs along the bottom of the Pacific, to New Zealand, through the Philippines, to Japan, up along the West Coast of Russia and along the Aleutians. Over nineteen thousand kilometers long.”
“Back up,” Turcotte said as he passed over the shoreline and the mothership was above the blue water of the Pacific, continuing to head west at great speed. “What the heck is this plate tectonic stuff?”
“It’s a relatively new discovery,” Quinn said. “The surface of the Earth, the crust, is made up of nine major plates, like the Pacific, and a dozen smaller ones, like the Nazca. It’s basically a crust of hard rock floating on the molten outer core. And each plate is moving, which produces one of three effects along the boundaries. When they go away from each other they form a split where material, usually magma, comes up and forms a ridge. When they collide, one plate slides under the other, producing what’s called a subduction zone. You were just at one of those zones — the Himalayas are the product of a subduction zone created by the Eurasian Plate meeting the Indian Plate. And the third is where the two plates are moving in opposite, parallel directions — the San Andreas Fault is an example of that. You’ve got all three types along the Ring of Fire, so you’ve got volcanoes and very unstable regions. When San Francisco got leveled in 1906, that was a relatively minor disturbance of the Ring — same as when Mount Hood erupted.”
“Can one of the volcanoes erupting on Easter Island start a chain reaction?” Turcotte asked. “Those other events didn’t.”
“We have to assume the Airlia — and the guardians — know more about plate tectonics than we do,” Quinn said. “I see no reason not to believe Aspasia’s Shadow about this given what’s at stake.”
Turcotte frowned. “Except he’s lied about pretty much everything else he’s told us.” “Do you want to be the one to take that chance?” Quinn asked.
Looking ahead, Turcotte saw a dot on the horizon. “We’re just about there. Is there anything we can do to stop this eruption?”
“I’ll check,” Quinn said.
“Better make that a quick check,” Turcotte said, as the mothership rapidly approached the island. He brought the massive ship to a halt above the international airport, then slowly lost altitude until the belly of the spacecraft just about touched the tarmac. Thousands crowded about, staring in awe and hope at the large ship.
“Open the holds,” Turcotte said.
Yakov was at another console, using the information he had gained from the Master Guardian. Cargo doors slid open and metal planks extended outward and downward. After a moment’s hesitation, the people poured forward, boarding the mothership. Turcotte glanced at the display. Was it his imagination or was there already a thin tendril of smoke above Rano Kau?
Turcotte stood up and grabbed his MP-5. “When everyone’s on board, let me know.” Yakov glanced over. “Where are you going?”
“To chat with our friend.”
Turcotte made his way back to the Master Guardian room, where Aspasia’s Shadow was tied down.
“Did the Russian pass you my message?” Aspasia’s Shadow asked as soon as Turcotte entered. “Yes.”
“You know the threat?” “If you’re not lying, yes.”
“I am not lying and I can stop it.” “How?”
“It is beyond your ability to understand.” Turcotte brought the muzzle of the submachine gun up. Aspasia’s Shadow shook his head. “You can kill me again, but that will cost you valuable time.” “What do you want?”
“The same thing I wanted before. The stakes on your end are higher now though.” Turcotte lowered the muzzle and didn’t say anything. A few minutes passed.
“You are running out of time,” Aspasia’s Shadow finally said. Turcotte still remained silent.
After a few more minutes, Aspasia’s Shadow stirred, pushing against his restraints. “The process will soon be irreversible.”
“You’re asking me to accept two assumptions,” Turcotte finally said. “First, that if that volcano erupts it will start a chain reaction all along the Pacific Rim. Second, that if that is true, that you have the power to stop what has already been started.”
“They are facts.” “According to you.”
“You cannot afford to disbelieve me.”
“Sure I can,” Turcotte said. “In your many reincarnations, did you ever play poker?” “A game? I don’t play games.”
“Too bad.” Turcotte lapsed into silence. Yakov’s voice finally announced that all were on board from Easter Island. “We’ve got everyone,” Turcotte told Aspasia’s Shadow.
“You saved a few thousand,” Aspasia’s Shadow said. What about the millions that will die shortly?”
“Your price is too high. I will never give you this mothership. I’m calling you on that.” “Then millions will die.”
Turcotte felt the pressure. He felt there was a good chance Aspasia’s Shadow was lying, but could he afford to take that gamble? “I’ll let you go and give you a Talon if you stop it.”
Aspasia’s Shadow simply stared at Turcotte.
The Special Forces soldier raised the submachine gun. “Your other choice is to continue dying every time you come back to life. I think that will make you long for the ka and your old life. I’ll partake of the Grail just so I can make your eternity hell.”