Carl Frederick: Howl of the Seismologist

“But telepathy wouldn’t explain predicting earthquakes,” said Katerina, her eyes more on Takeo than on Alex.

“Maybe some creatures can detect other physical phenomena,” said Alex.

Katerina gave a quick, furtive smile.

“Physical,” said Takeo. “What physical phenomenon is it, then? If there is another sense, it must be addressable by physics.” He smiled. “It is regrettable, but ghosts and spirits don’t come under science.”

From the corner of his eye, Alex noted Katerina scowling at Takeo. Clearly there was some negative chemistry between them.

“My dog does predict earthquakes,” said Alex, firmly.

“One suggests it is otherwise,” said Takeo, equally firmly. “And why then cannot all dogs predict quakes?”

“I wondered about that myself.” Alex paused, feeling exposed and foolish, before daring to tell them his speculation. “I got Wegener from a German Shepherd rescue organization. He was a drug-sniffing dog put out of work by the new electronic noses.”

“But one does not understand what relevance this has to—”

“During his training, Wegener probably had to sniff a lot of drugs.”

Takeo laughed. “Is it suggested that your dog acquired this alleged earthquake ability during a drug high?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I’m not an expert on canine brain chemistry.”

“Ridiculous,” said Takeo under his breath.

They walked in silence for a few minutes. Then Katerina said, “I didn’t think we were in danger of quakes here in Illinois.”

“Actually,” said Alex, “this part of the country is the second most active for quakes. In fact, Batavia sits over an extension of the New Madrid Fault.”

“Seismology sounds like a very interesting and satisfying discipline,” said Takeo in a tone of voice suggesting an apology for his previous discourtesy.

Alex nodded. He hoped Takeo would interpret it as “apology accepted.”

They walked again in silence until, out of the blue, Katerina asked, “What’s your dog’s howl duty cycle?”

“His what?”

“I mean, what percent of his howls—howls for unknown reasons, that is. What percent actually…”—Katerina seemed to be carefully choosing her words—”actually correlate with earthquakes?”

“I don’t really know.” Alex glanced at Wegener. “But my dog can predict a Richter 3.0 or greater quake anywhere within five or six hundred miles.”

“Five hundred miles.” said Katerina. “Impressive.” She seemed momentarily distant. Then her expression changed to one of resolve. “Perhaps we could have lunch tomorrow. To talk about earthquakes—and your dog.”

“I’d like that,” said Alex. “And his name’s Wegener. Named after Alfred Wegener, the father of plate tectonics.” Alex patted the dog. “Du bist ein braver Hund,” he said softly into the dog’s ear.

“You speak to your dog in German?” said Katerina.

“He’s a German Shepherd.”

The next day, Alex, with Wegener running alongside, bicycled to the User’s Center where he’d meet Katerina for lunch. He swung off his bicycle, locked it, and then pulled his pants cuff free of his sock.

“Stay!” he said, pointing to Wegener.

Wegener howled.

“Stay!” said Alex again. As there was a perfectly understandable reason for the howl, there was no reason to log it. He looked absently at his dog. She wants to talk about earthquakes. And about you, Wegener. I wonder why.

He shrugged, then hand-brushed his hair, turned, and padded into the User’s Center.

Walking into the dining room, he saw that Katerina had already arrived, and had gotten coffee. She waved him over to her table.

“My dog’s outside,” he said as he sat. “Do you want to talk to him, too?”

She laughed. “You’ll do, for the moment.”

They gave the waiter their lunch orders and then, rather like the appetizer to a meal, they started with small talk.

“I gather you knew Takeo before you came here,” said Alex.

“I studied under Dr. Wakabayashi in Berlin, before I switched from physics to biology.” She toyed with her coffee, stirring it despite having taken it black. “I don’t think he’s quite forgiven me.”

“He called you Katchen,” said Alex, reacting to her sorrowful expression. “That’s an indication of, well, endearment.”

Her lips formed a sad smile. “In this case, I think it’s more an indication of status… an adult addressing a child. Just as I call him Wakabayashi sama, a term of respect for his much higher status.” She wrapped her hands around her coffee cup, and stared at the black ripples on the surface. “Takeo has a theory,” she said, abruptly.

“Oh?”

“He believes that heavy particles, hadrons, moving at high speed loosen the binding of spacetime.”

“Huh?” said Alex under his breath.

“In the absence of mass,” said Katerina, pointing a teaspoon at Alex, “what is the nature of space-time?”

“Well… according to Einstein,” said Alex, proud of himself that he was conversant with modern physics, “it is flat.”

“But what use is space if there is nothing to put into it?” Katerina paused a few seconds and continued. “Takeo’s studies suggest—suggest strongly—that in the absence of mass, space-time becomes stochastic—essentially undefined.”

Alex leaned forward and tried to look intelligent.

“Takeo believes,” Katerina went on, “that mass binds space-time. It holds space-time together. And high-speed hadrons loosen that binding.”

“Hadrons from the Tevatron, I assume.”

“Yes,” said Katerina, “but mostly from cosmic ray bursts.”

Alex chuckled. “And what does all that have to do with my dog?”

Katerina smiled in return. “The loosening of space-time would be a new physics phenomenon—a phenomenon that I think some creatures might possibly sense.”

“What?” Alex narrowed his eyes in puzzlement. “But yesterday, Takeo seemed to be arguing against just that.”

Katerina nodded. “Oh, he was really arguing with me, over my theory.”

“Please.” Alex rubbed a hand across his forehead. “One theory at a time.”

“Yes. Yes, you’re right.” Katerina paused for a moment. “In his theory, the effect would manifest in massive objects—the Earth, for instance. He believes this loosening, these little rents in space-time, could be the cause of some earthquakes.”

“Ah,” said Alex.

“And my theory is that if there’s a macroscopic physics phenomenon, nature would have provided some creatures with a sense for it.” Katerina pursed her lips. “Wakabayashi sama thinks my theory is nonsense.”

“So that’s why you need a seismologist and a… a canine seismologist.”

Katerina nodded. “I’ve been looking for someone, a seismologist, preferably, with an animal that predicts quakes. But every seismologist I’ve talked to about it has said I should stick to biology.”

Alex brought a hand to cover his shirt pocket, as if about to recite the Pledge of Allegiance. “Wegener and I… our hands and paws are at your service. How can we help?”

“Do you record all of your dog’s howls,” said Katerina, pointing at his shirt pocket, “in that notebook?”

“All the howls that I can’t explain. Yes.”

“Do you know about the ConneXion software package?” said Katerina.

“What?” Alex, surprised by the change of subject, shook his head.

“It correlates as well as anti-correlates just about everything accessible over the Web. It correlates against a set of inputted data and restrictions on the scope of the search.” She toyed with a table knife. “I’d like to see if Wegener’s howls really do correlate to quakes, and if those quakes correlate with cosmic ray bursts… or even with the Tevatron being active.”