Ken Follett - The Hammer of Eden

Michael said: “Dusty, meet Special Agent Judy Maddox.”

The boy shook hands politely and said: “Are you really in the FBI?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Wow.”

“Want to see my badge?” She took her shield from her shoulder bag and gave it to him. He held it reverently.

Michael said: “Dusty likes to watch The X-Files.”

Judy smiled. “I don’t work in the Alien Spacecraft Department, I just catch regular earth criminals.”

Dusty said: “Can I see your gun?”

Judy hesitated. She knew that boys were fascinated by weapons, but she did not like to encourage such an interest. She glanced at Michael, who shrugged. She unbuttoned her jacket and took the weapon out of its shoulder holster.

As she did so, she caught Michael looking at her breasts, and she felt a sudden sexual frisson. Now that he was not being curmudgeonly, he was kind of appealing, with his bare feet and his T-shirt untucked.

She said: “Guns are pretty dangerous, Dusty, so I’m going to hold it, but you can look.”

Dusty’s face as he stared at the pistol wore the same expression as Michael’s when she opened her jacket. The thought made her grin.

After a minute she holstered the gun.

Dusty said with elaborate politeness: “We were just going to have some Cap’n Crunch. Would you care to join us?”

Judy was impatient to question Michael, but she sensed he would be more forthcoming if she was patient and played along. “How nice of you,” she said. “I’m real hungry, I’d love some Cap’n Crunch.”

“Come into the kitchen.”

The three of them sat at a plastic-topped table in the little kitchen and ate breakfast cereal and milk out of bright blue pottery bowls. Judy realized she was hungry: it was past suppertime. “My goodness,” she said. “I’d forgotten how good Cap’n Crunch is.”

Michael laughed. Judy was amazed at the difference in him. He was relaxed and amiable. He seemed a different person from the grouch who had forced her to drive back to the office and phone him for an appointment. She was beginning to like him.

When supper was eaten, Michael got Dusty ready for bed. Dusty said to his father: “Can Agent Judy tell me a story?”

Judy suppressed her impatience. I’ve got seven days, I can wait another five minutes . She said: “I think your daddy wants to tell you a story, because he doesn’t get to do it as often as he’d like.”

“It’s okay,” Michael said with a smile. “I’ll listen in.”

They went into the bedroom. “I don’t know many stories, but I remember one my mommy used to tell me,” Judy said. “It’s the legend of the kindly dragon. Would you like to hear it?”

“Yes, please,” said Dusty.

“Me too,” said Michael.

“Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, there was a kindly dragon who lived in China, where all dragons come from. One day the kindly dragon went wandering. He wandered so far that he left China and got lost in the wilderness.

“After many days he came to another land, far to the south. It was the most beautiful country he had ever seen, with forests and mountains and fertile valleys, and rivers for him to splash about in. There were banana palms and mulberry trees laden with ripe fruit. The weather was always warm with a pleasant breeze.

“But there was one thing wrong. It was an empty land. No one lived there: no people, and no dragons. So although the kindly dragon loved the new land, he was terribly lonely.

“However, he didn’t know the way home, so he roamed all around, looking for someone to keep him company. At last, one lucky day, he found the one person who lived there — a fairy princess. She was so beautiful that he fell in love with her at once. Now, the princess was lonely, too, and although the dragon looked fearsome, he had a kind heart, and so she married him.

“The kindly dragon and the fairy princess loved each other, and they had a hundred children. All the children were brave and kindly like their dragon father, and beautiful like their fairy mother.

“The kindly dragon and the fairy princess looked after their children until they were all grown up. Then, suddenly, both parents vanished. They went away to live in love and harmony in the spirit world for all eternity. And their children became the brave, kindly, beautiful people of Vietnam. And that’s where my mommy came from.”

Dusty was wide-eyed. “Is it true?”

Judy smiled. “I don’t know, maybe.”

“It’s a beautiful story anyway,” Michael said. He kissed Dusty good night.

As Judy left the room, she heard Dusty whisper: “She’s really nice, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” Michael replied.

Back in the living room, Michael said: “Thank you for that. You were great with him.”

“It wasn’t difficult. He’s a charmer.”

Michael nodded. “Gets it from his mother.”

Judy smiled.

Michael grinned and said: “I notice you don’t argue with that.”

“I’ve never met your wife. In the picture she looks very beautiful.”

“She is. And … faithless.”

That was an unexpected confidence, coming so suddenly from a man she took to be proud. She warmed to him. But she did not know what to say in reply.

They were both silent for a moment. Then Michael said: “You’ve had enough of the Quercus family. Tell me about the earthquake.”

At last . “It took place in Owens Valley this afternoon at twenty minutes past two.”

“Let’s get the seismograph.” Michael sat at his desk and tapped the keys of his computer. She found herself looking at his bare feet. Some men had ugly feet, but his were well shaped and strong looking, with neatly clipped toenails. The skin was white, and there was a small tuft of dark hair on each big toe.

He did not notice her scrutiny. “When your terrorists made their threat four weeks ago, did they specify the location?”

“No.”

“Hmm. In the scientific community, we say that a successful earthquake forecast would have to specify date, location, and magnitude. Your people only gave the date. That’s not very convincing. There’s an earthquake somewhere in California more or less every day. Maybe they just claimed responsibility for something that happened naturally.”

“Can you tell me exactly where today’s tremor took place?”

“Yes. I can calculate the epicenter by triangulation. Actually, the computer does it automatically. I’ll just print out the coordinates.” After a moment his printer whirred.

Judy said: “Is there any way of knowing how the earthquake was triggered?”

“You mean, can I tell from the graph whether it was caused by human agency? Yes, I should be able to.”

“How?”

He clicked his mouse and turned from the screen to face her. “A normal earthquake is preceded by a gradual buildup of foreshocks, or lesser tremors, which we can see on the seismograph. By contrast, when the earthquake is triggered by an explosion, there is no buildup — the graph begins with a characteristic spike.” He turned back to his computer.

He was probably a good teacher, Judy thought. He explained things clearly. But he would be mercilessly intolerant of student foibles. He would give surprise tests and refuse to admit latecomers to his lectures.

“That’s odd,” he said.

Judy looked over his shoulder at the screen. “What’s odd?”

“The seismograph.”

“I don’t see a spike.”

“No. There was no explosion.”

Judy did not know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. “So the earthquake happened naturally?”

He shook his head. “I’m not sure. There are foreshocks, yes. But I’ve never seen foreshocks like this.”

Judy was frustrated. He had promised to tell her whether the Hammer of Eden’s claim was plausible. Now he was maddeningly uncertain. “What’s peculiar about the foreshocks?” she asked.