Carl Frederick: Howl of the Seismologist

Takeo nodded.

“Thank you.” Alex turned again to go.

“Wait!” said Katerina at a shouted whisper. “I’m coming with you.”

Alex spun around, paused a second or two, then said, “I really appreciate that, but there’s no way your visitor ID would get you anywhere near the Tevatron.” He took a quick swig from his water glass, the ice having long since melted. “And I’m traveling by bicycle. And I don’t know exactly where on the ring the D-Zero experiment is.” He put down the glass.

Katerina turned sharply. “Professor Wakabayashi,” she said, “drive us, please.”

Takeo gave a throaty sigh. He paused. “All right. Fine. One has been there before.”

“You will?” said Alex.

“The Tevatron has a four-mile circumference,” said Takeo, “and the D-Zero experiment is halfway around.” He stood. “Come.” He headed for the door. Alex and Katerina followed.

As they hurried down the front steps of the building, Wegener fell in behind.

Sitting in Takeo’s car, parked in a lot near the D-Zero entrance, Alex watched anxiously as the dashboard clock inexorably crept toward noon. No one spoke. Even Wegener stayed silent.

Finally, noon came.

Alex held his breath, his arm around Wegener.

“He’s not howling,” said Katerina, almost at a whisper.

Alex checked his watch. It read the same as the dashboard clock.

For minutes, they sat as if frozen.

Then Wegener did howl—a loud howl that Alex knew portended a huge quake. He flung open the car door and sprang out. Wegener followed.

Alex pointed at his dog. “Stay! Wegener, stay!” Alex turned and headed away from the parking area. He forced himself to move at a casual pace, not wanting to draw attention to himself. Hearing the car door open again, he stopped and swiveled around.

Katerina had stepped out. “I’m coming with you,” she announced.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Don’t argue,” said Katerina. “We don’t have the time.”

Alex knew she was right. He turned again toward the Tevatron entrance and heard Katerina coming up beside him. “Walk as if we belong here,” he whispered from the side of his mouth.

“Look,” Katerina whispered, nodding toward a person far ahead of them striding toward the entrance. “Let’s see if we can follow him in.”

They increased their pace until, at the entrance, they were only a step behind. The man in front swiped his card, and as he opened the door, looked behind him.

Katerina, seeming to hunt for her card, smiled at him. He gave a nod that could have almost been a small bow, and held the door open for her and Alex.

Alex feigned a twist of the ankle as he started down the stairs. He uttered a mild oath with what he hoped was an expression of annoyance and mild pain. He grasped at the handrail for support.

“Are you all right?” said the man.

“I’m fine. Just turned my ankle a bit.” Alex flexed his ankle. “I always seem to trip over my feet when I come in here out of a bright sun.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean.”

Alex flexed his ankle as the man first nodded, then continued down the stairs and disappeared into the bowels of the Tevatron tunnel system.

Compact fluorescents set into recesses in the tunnel wall provided a cold, white light as Alex and Katerina descended the steps to a high-arched corridor. The smell of grass and fresh outdoor air gradually gave way to a technological odor—like the scent of distant burnt electronics. A soft thrum of air conditioning and the combined susurrus of numerous machines resonated off the concrete walls—along with the sound of receding footsteps.

“Looks pretty deserted, doesn’t it?” said Alex softly, as he and Katerina padded lightly down the corridor.

“There it is,” said Katerina, pointing ahead and to the left.

They stopped in front of a door. It was where Takeo said it would be. The door was clearly old. It had an actual keyhole rather than a card reader.

Alex tried the handle. “Damn! Locked.”

“What now?” said Katerina.

Alex regarded the door. It seemed more a notice of disuse than a conditional barrier to entry. “Looks pretty flimsy.” He put his shoulder against it and pushed. But the door held. “Damn!” he said again. He took a quick look up and down the passageway, then, with a grunt, threw himself against the door. The wood around the lock split, the sound harsh and loud in the empty corridor. He pushed again. The lock tongue stayed in the door jam while the door itself ripped away and flew open. With a loud clang, the inside handle struck the concrete wall.

“Okay,” Alex whispered as he stepped inside. He felt silly for whispering while the sound of the break-in still reverberated off the hard walls.

The opening revealed another corridor, musty-smelling and dark. There were no working lights set in the walls.

By the dim illumination from behind, Alex and Katerina made their way forward. After ten or fifteen meters, the passageway widened, becoming another room. In the darkness, it looked more like a grotto than a place for science.

At the far end of the room, a sliding door dominated the wall, a massive protection against particle radiation.

“I think the emergency shutoff is on the other side of that.” Alex glanced above the door. “As long as that sign isn’t flashing ‘Danger,’ everything’s okay.”

He saw a recessed handle. “With no power in this lab, we should be able to use this.” He pulled hard and the door, creaking and complaining, opened enough to admit them.

“I hope the shutoff button still has power,” said Katerina.

“Yeah!” Alex looked inside—or tried to. The meager illumination from the corridor only allowed him to see a meter or so into the experiment room, and only straight ahead. “I’ll have to feel around for it. On the left, Takeo said.”

“I’ll try the right side,” said Katerina. “Maybe Takeo didn’t—”

A low rumble interrupted her words.

“I thought we had time,” Katerina called out, her voice quavering.

The ground began to tremble. The shaking grew and Alex heard crashing noises in the distance. He pushed himself against a wall to keep from falling. “Katchen,” he shouted over the increasingly loud groaning of the Earth. “Get out! Get out, now!” He grabbed the door jam to keep his balance. “I’ve got to find that shutoff button.”

“You come, too,” Katerina shouted. “This could collapse. You could die.”

“Go!” Alex shouted as he staggered into the room.

“No!” Katerina, on her knees, crawled into the room and then, clawing at the metal door, pulled herself to her feet. As she did so, the door groaned and slid closed, leaving the experiment room in absolute darkness.

“Oh, no,” said Katerina. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about… Hey!” Alex called out. “Here it is, I think. It feels like a button.”

“Push it!”

“Done!”

“Nothing’s happening!”

His hand still on the button, Alex’s mind was fully engulfed in the fearful magnificence of the quake. He was both thrilled to experience a high-Richter quake firsthand and also irrationally afraid it would go on forever.

“Alex?” Katerina called in the darkness.

“Sorry. I’m here. Wait! The quake. It’s weakening—I think.”

A few seconds later, the shaking stopped and room went silent.

“Takeo was right,” said Katerina, relief apparent in her voice.

“Yeah.” Alex released his grip on the shutoff button’s box and pawed around until he found the door handle. “Uh-oh!”

“What’s the matter?”

Alex braced himself and strained against the handle. “The door. It… it won’t move.”