Grant pondered the data. "Once her spillways are running at full tilt, Mojave should be able to hold her level, right?"
"Yeah. Theoretically."
Grant pursed his lips, trying to imagine the spillways at Davis Dam. "They've never been tested at full capacity, have they?"
Fred smiled. "Course not."
Grant smirked. "That would be too good to be true."
Fred shrugged. "We have to trust them. They were designed specifically to keep up with Hoover. The problem is, even assuming they work, the trouble will just move downstream. Lake Havasu will have to rise high enough for the water to reach the top of Parker Dam's spillways. Its internal gates aren't going to be able to keep up either. Both dams, Davis and Parker, will need their spillways flowing at full capacity to keep up with all the water we're dumping."
A thought kept nagging Grant. "How certain are we that Parker's spillways can really handle it? Isn't that just theoretical too?"
Fred rubbed his forehead. "Same story. None of the spillways have ever been tested at capacity." Fred turned toward Grant. "Why are you asking me all these questions? You work for the Bureau too."
Grant nodded. "My guys in Denver are all desk jockeys. You're out here in the real world. I was just curious what you think."
Fred showed a hint of satisfaction at Grant's remark. "If I were betting, and I am from Vegas, I'd bet on the Bureau's numbers. They may be desk jockeys today, but these three dams were all designed over fifty years ago. Those boys got out in the sun and got their hands dirty. They ran their calculations on slide rules. They checked their numbers, then checked them again. Yeah, I trust them."
Grant smiled. It had never occurred to him that the calculations were done by hand. Over the last fifteen years the Bureau had not done anything without modeling it on a computer first. If someone took all the computers away today, the Bureau would stop dead. They wouldn't know what to do. Grant had seen slide rules, but he didn't even know how to work one. Actually, Grant wasn't sure he could balance his checkbook anymore without a computer.
Fred looked at him. "What are you thinking?"
Grant shrugged. "Just that we're sitting here racking our brains, and the flood's not even here yet." Grant looked back out at the action on the dam and kept talking without looking at Fred. "If we're able to contain all this water in my little dam extension project — Hoover-Two," he corrected himself, "then all three sets of spillways will be running at full capacity for weeks. None of the three dam's spillways have ever been tested at full capacity for a minute, let alone weeks."
Fred spoke from behind Grant. "In 1983 when the water was high, only two feet of water went over the spillways at Hoover for sixty days — less than five percent of capacity. Even that almost ruined the spillways. I can't imagine what this is going to do."
Grant smiled. "Compared to what would happen if the water breaches Hoover, they're going to be happy to re-build the spillways after it's over."
Grant's cell phone rang. He picked it up. "Hello."
"Grant, it's Howard."
Grant recognized the voice of his boss. His stomach turned. His boss was the last person he wanted to talk to. "Oh, hi Howard. How's Yellowstone?"
Howard spoke fast, obviously excited. "We've been driving around in the park all day, then we went out and ate. I hadn't heard any news. I flicked on the TV and… the Glen Canyon Dam — unbelievable. I called Cindy at home and she forwarded me to Julia. Julia told me that you're there handling it. I can't believe…" His voice tapered off.
Grant silently cursed the two secretaries for giving Howard his phone number. "Yeah, that about sums it up."
"Where are you? Page? Why didn't you call me?"
Grant hesitated. Actually, the thought of calling Howard had never occurred to him. Howard would have no idea what to do, and of course Grant didn't want the bureaucratic interference. He felt like he had plenty of obstacles without his boss questioning everything. "I'm at Hoover Dam in Veg-"
"I know where Hoover is. Why aren't you at Glen Canyon? Isn't that where the problem is?" Grant could already detect the condescending attitude.
Grant couldn't stop the defensiveness in his voice. "What'd you want me to do at Glen Canyon? The dam's gone."
"Well, what are you doing at Hoover?"
"We're getting ready for the flood; we're dumping as much water as possible to lower the lake." Grant decided not to bring up the part about dynamiting Hoover's spillways. "And we're building a dike on top of the dam to try to prevent overtopping." The phone went silent for a moment.
"Overtopping — you think that might happen?"
Grant talked down to him. "Yes, Howard, Hoover is going to get overtopped."
"How do you know that for sure?"
It never ceased to amaze Grant how some people could argue with so much conviction when they were completely wrong. "Howard, Lake Powell holds almost two years of river flow. You think Mead has that much extra capacity?"
There was silence on the line before Howard continued. "Well, then, what makes you think a dike on top of Hoover will hold it? Two years of flow held by a dike?"
Grant willed himself to not lose his temper.
Howard continued. "And besides, who approved building a dike on top of the dam anyway? That's going to cost a fortune."
Grant gritted his teeth. "The governor of Nevada approved it."
There was silence on the other end of the phone for a moment. Even though Howard was a little behind, it didn't prevent him from saying something stupid. "You got him involved? What the hell were you thinking?"
Grant spat the words out. "He was here when I got here. I didn't call him. Besides, I needed him to get things done."
Howard switched his line of questioning. "How high is the dike you're building?"
Grant knew where this was going. "Twenty feet."
"Twenty feet, what's that gonna do? How'd you come up with that number?"
Grant got angry and yelled into the phone. "We calculated the height we'd need based on the water levels at both dams. Why, how high do you think I should build it, Howard? Do you have a better number in mind? Or, do you want me to tell the governor to stop the dike? You want to make the decisions now? Go ahead."
Howard hesitated. "Well, it's just that…"
Grant couldn't stop himself. "It's just that you're great at complaining, but you don't have a clue what to do." Grant realized he had gone too far.
The retort came, but Howard's voice was weak. "Hey, I'm just thinking out loud here."
Grant resisted the urge to tell his boss he shouldn't think out loud — it tended to make him look like an idiot.
Howard changed the subject. "What did Roland say when he called?"
"He told me not to make any decisions."
Howard laughed. "Well, it sounds like you screwed that up."
Grant agreed, "I didn't have any choice. Something had to be done."
Howard's tone changed to consolatory. "Well, you better hope your ideas work, 'cause we both know what'll happen if they don't."
Grant summed it up. "Yeah. I'm screwed if I do, and screwed if I don't."
"When's Roland going to be back in the country?"
Grant wished he knew. "I have no idea. When I talked to him around 10 a.m., he was still trying to find a flight back from Paris."
"He hasn't called since?" Howard asked.
"No, he didn't call back, which I'm assuming means they're in the air. I figure he could be arriving somewhere between midnight and noon tomorrow."
"You think the dike will be done by then?"
"It better be. We expect overtopping before 6:00 a.m."
Howard asked a question that must have hurt. "How did you figure out when the water would arrive?"
Grant answered. "The bureau put together a failure study in the nineties for Glen Canyon. They modeled the whole thing. I have a table showing when the flood arrives at each location."