Carl Frederick: Howl of the Seismologist

Alex rolled the flimsy plastic bishop between his fingers for a few seconds before placing it on king’s knight two. Then, while his opponent thought, he idly dropped his hand to scratch Wegener between the ears.

After another ten minutes or so, the battle, heated yet silent, drew an observer—a youngish woman who by standing next to the picnic table shaded the board from the glare of the Sun.

Alex’s opponent, an Asian man of aristocratic mien, glanced up at her. “Guten Tag, Katchen,” he said.

“Konnichi wa, Wakabayashi-sama,” she answered.

The man nodded, then returned his eyes to the chessboard.

Several moves later, the man shook his head almost imperceptibly. “A draw is offered.”

“A draw?” Alex thought he had a marginally better position but felt it would be impolite not to accept. “All right. Fine.”

The man leaned back. “One is new at the village?”

“One is.” Alex nodded. “I’ve just moved into an apartment here.” He extended his hand over the board. “I’m Alex Prendergast. Summer postdoc.”

The man shook the proffered hand through an arc of a few centimeters, then set up the pieces again. “Takeo Wakabayashi—on staff here—particle physics.”

Wegener scrambled to his feet and howled.

“Oh, no, Wegener,” said Alex. “Not another one!”

“Is something wrong?” said the woman.

“No,” said Alex, taking a little notebook from his pocket and logging the howl. “Probably not.”

“Probably?” The woman slid onto the picnic table’s bench. “And I’m Katerina Schneider.” She threw a glance off to the looming Wilson Hall. “I’m afraid I’m something of an alien here… being a neurobiologist.”

Alex laughed. “Then I’m an alien as well.” He pocketed his notebook. “I’m a seismologist.”

With a slow, deliberate motion, Takeo made his first move, then cupped his chin in his hands. Alex noticed that he had fingers pushing against his ears.

“What’s a seismologist doing at Fermilab?” said Katerina.

Alex made his move. “I applied for a grant to see if Fermilab laser micro-position detection technology might be applied to earthquake sensing.” He spoke softly out of consideration for Takeo. “The Large Hadron Collider has sucked up all the particle physics money. But there’s still earth science money to be had.”

Takeo made his second move—a book opening. Alex also stayed with the book. “Since the Tevatron will be obsolete when the LHC goes up,” he said, eyes on the board, “Fermilab is looking for other things to do.” He looked up from the board. “And since you brought it up, what’s a neurobiologist doing here?”

“I’m here on leave from The University of Berlin, researching the possible detection of cosmic ray burst particles by living organisms.”

“Interesting.”

Takeo made his move and Alex returned his attention to the game.

For the next ten minutes or so, no one spoke. Takeo had taken his fingers away from his ears. Then, as Takeo reached for a chess piece, the ground began to vibrate. A second or two later, a low rumble filled the air and the ground shook. Several of the chess pieces fell over.

“Ach Du heilige…” Katerina grabbed on to the table.

Takeo sat frozen, holding his chess piece as if by having lifted it, he had caused the shaking.

“Not to worry,” said Alex, throwing a quick glance at his dog. “I think it’s only a minor quake. Should be over in a few seconds.”

They sat in silence until, about fifteen seconds later, the ground went still.

“Well, that was certainly fun,” said Katerina, releasing her death grip on the picnic table.

“I bet we’re close to the epicenter. The P and S waves felt as if they came almost on top of each other.” Alex reached into his pocket. “There’s never a seismograph when you need one.” He pulled out his cell phone. “I have the Lamont Observatory on rapid-dial.”

He connected to Lamont, gave a report, then said, “Three point one. Interesting.” He hung up, checked his watch, then pulled out his howl notebook and logged the quake.

“It is hoped the Tevatron has not been damaged,” said Takeo.

“At 3.1 on the Richter Scale,” said Alex, “the Tevatron’s probably safe.” He slipped the phone into his pocket. “On the Mercalli Scale, it’s probably only a four.” He glanced down at the scattered chess pieces. “Or maybe a five.” He looked across to Takeo. “How ’bout we call this game a draw as well.”

Takeo nodded, then set up the pieces again.

Alex saw other people coming from the buildings in the village. They seemed drawn toward Wilson Hall, the nerve center of Fermilab.

Alex and Katerina stood from the picnic table.

“Let’s see what news there is,” said Alex, glancing down at the still-seated Takeo.

“Perhaps another game first?”

Alex smiled. The man was clearly an addict. “Thank you, but perhaps later.”

Takeo nodded and then, with a sigh, he stood. The three of them, along with Wegener, headed toward Wilson Hall.

“Professionally,” said Alex as they ambled in the late summer sun, “this is very embarrassing.” He looked back at Wegener. “My dog is better at my job than I am. He saw this quake coming.”

Katerina raised her eyebrows.

“Really,” said Alex. “He predicted it. I’m sort of in competition with him.”

“You really feel you’re in competition with… with your dog?”

Alex gave a quick, tight smile. “Actually, I’m a better seismologist than my dog because… because, these days, real seismologists can actually prevent some quakes.”

Katerina stared at him in silence.

“Yeah. I know,” said Alex, made nervous by her gaze. “But it’s true. We are beginning to be able to avert quakes in some cases—by drilling and blasting in unpopulated parts of a fault to release pressure.”

“That’s not the issue,” said Katerina, softly.

“Oh, you mean my competing with my dog.” Alex gave a short, high-pitched laugh. “Yeah, I know. But it’s a comfort that Wegener can’t prevent quakes—considering that he predicts them a lot better than I do.”

“One might wonder,” said Takeo, “if it can truly be called prediction.” He sounded bored with the discussion. “Perhaps the dog, through his paws, is just very sensitive to vibrations—and can feel them before humans are able to.”

“My dog has detected quakes even when I’ve been sitting at a bank of seismographs, tiltmeters, low-frequency vibration sensors, strain meters, and ultrasonic detectors. I found nothing while he sensed a quake.”

“Indeed,” said Takeo, skepticism clear in his voice.

“I don’t understand it, either,” said Alex. “But it’s not vibrations. It’s… it’s something else.”

Takeo’s lips formed a cold smile. “One might entertain doubts as to whether there is anything else.”

“Look,” said Alex, with more heat than he’d intended. “Everything we know about in the physical world is just an amplification of the human senses. And pigeon and shark senses, too, if we include static electromagnetic fields.”

“The strong nuclear force?” said Takeo.

“All right,” said Alex. “Make that everything we know about the macro world. What if there are other phenomena that we don’t have senses for?”

“Such as ESP,” said Takeo. “Pseudoscience?”

“Sure. Why not?” Alex threw up his hands. “Precognition violates causality. Telekinesis violates conservation of energy. But perhaps telepathy does exist. It doesn’t violate any law of physics.”