Chapter 28

Hawaiian Volcano Observatory, Hawai‘i

Time to eruption: 95 hours

Lono Akani wanted to be more than just Mac's star student surfer. He wanted to be his star intern at HVO too, wanted to feel like a kāpena of that team also.

Captain.

So Lono had decided to spend all day at the observatory up the mountain. His mother had dropped him off at school, but as soon as she was gone, he hitched a ride to HVO.

When he got there, he saw all these army guys. But why? He knew Mac wasn't here because his car wasn't in the parking lot. He saw Betty Kilima, the librarian, going down the hall, and he hurried after her. His station was on the other side of the room from hers.

"Why all the army guys?"

"I heard they're helping us rebuild the jeep roads."

"What's wrong with the roads?" Lono asked. "I never heard Mac say anything about the roads." He jerked his head in the direction of the men. "This looks like an invasion."

"I guess he's worried that they're in bad shape and we can't move around fast enough to take readings during the eruption."

He didn't think that was true. Just his gut instinct. Too many army guys. This was about more than roads, and he knew it. There seemed to be an atmosphere of excitement at the observatory, almost tension. It was in the air all around him.

Betty said, "Ready to work?" She raised her eyebrows. "Why aren't you in school?"

"Got permission," he said.

"Really?" she said suspciously.

He put his hand over his heart. "Ho‘ohiki wau—I swear."

Most days he helped her sort data files for an hour or so. These were mostly satellite pictures that had to be cataloged by the acquisition time and spectrum covered before they were shipped down to UH for storage. It was grunt work, but Mac always said that details were part of the process. That was all Lono had needed to hear, even though the process was boring. Mac's word was law.

Betty's intercom buzzed. Lono was close enough to recognize the voice: Rick Ozaki, the seismic specialist. He was working in the data room.

"Betty? We need help," Rick said. "Can you get me the most recent mag data?"

Lono knew immediately what he was talking about. Rick wanted high-resolution magnetometry pictures showing Moku‘āweoweo.

The summit crater.

"Sure," she said. Betty glanced over, saw Lono watching her. "What do you need?" she asked Rick. "GEM Systems?"

Lono knew that GEM's GSM-19 Overhauser magnetometer delivered data that was very high quality. Rick often wanted GEM data because it had excellent resolution.

"No problem. Lono's right here with me."

"Is that right? Hey, Lono, what are you doing there?"

The boy grinned. "I know you can't make a move without me."

"Well, get data starting backward from present," Rick said. "I'm looking for an image that shows those dark areas around the summit, you know?"

"The air pockets?"

Rick said, "Yeah. The field team just walked the area to map new pockets. Find the pictures from the ground-level magnetic surveys." He meant the ones that came from a magnetometer a tech carried inside a nonmagnetic backpack, the device fitted to a boom six feet above the ground.

"The total magnetic strength above the lava tube complex?" Lono asked.

"Just see what you can find."

Lono was suddenly glad he had come to the observatory today, even without permission; he had a sense of mission, of something important to do. And he'd heard the urgency in Rick's voice.

A few minutes later, searching through the drive, he said to Betty, "Does this have to do with the roads?"

"Not sure. Maybe he's working on something else," she said.

Lono had a feeling she knew the answer but wasn't going to tell him. He hated being treated like a child, but he was used to it with her.

Lono pulled up the GEM file and scanned the database of stored images. The field team had walked quasi-parallel lines perpendicular to the locations estimated to be the walls of the lava tubes. He was looking specifically for a common magnetic pattern where lower magnetic field values ran the length of each tube.

The intercom buzzed—Rick again. "You still there, Lono?"

"Yes, Rick."

"What've you got?"

"I need a few more minutes."

"Let me know." Rick clicked off.

Lono went back to the GEM list now. The data acquisition was continuous, but deviations around brush and other natural obstacles were frequent. He wanted an image showing a positive magnetic anomaly.

He found five.

He was going through them when the intercom buzzed again.

"Lono?" Rick said. "I don't mean to jam you up, but if you don't have it, I have to arrange a flyover and acquire it today."

Rick had Lono's interest now. Big-time. Lono knew an aircraft flyover was expensive. The observatory did it from time to time, but only when there was a special reason.

After another fifteen minutes, Lono found the image he needed. In shades of purple, yellow, and green, it showed the summit crater and the northern rift zone curving off to the right. He zoomed in; the image softened and began to blur, but he saw the dark patches around the summit that indicated the air chambers.

He shipped it over to Rick and sat back, feeling the tension in his shoulders.

The intercom buzzed again. "Lono?"

"Yes, Rick."

"Is this it? Just one?"

"That's right," Lono said. "Unless you want me to look farther back than—"

"No, no, it has to be recent." Lono heard rustling papers, the soft murmur of other voices in the data room. Rick said to someone at his end, "Why don't you show this to the army guys? I mean, they're the ones that have to place the damn explosives." Then he spoke directly into the intercom. "Hey, Lono? Good job."

And clicked off.

They're the ones that have to place the damn explosives. Had he actually heard that right?

Lono wanted to open the intercom channel again. He knew there was an intercom built into the computer system that connected all the workstations at the observatory. There was also a voice-recognition system that converted voice to text. It was old and outdated and not very good. Nobody used it much. But Lono knew it existed.

If he could just remember how to turn it on…

He poked around on the drive. Pretty soon he found it. A window came up; he typed in his password.

Rejected.

He glanced back at Betty. She was still going through her papers.

Lono typed in her name and password; he knew what it was because she always used the same one. The screen changed. It asked who to link to. He hesitated, then typed JK, for Jenny Kimura, figuring she would be with Mac and not at her monitor.

He heard voices speaking and immediately clicked the button for TEXT. His computer was silent. For a moment nothing happened, and then text began to flow.

KENSAY ***UP ***SO***

HAVE TO OPEN THE CHAMBERS IS THE POINT AND YOU NEED AN EFFICIENT WAY TO DO THAT

WE NEED FODAR MAPS TO DECIDE WHERE TO OPEN UP

WHY

HOW MUCH EXPLOSIVE GOES IN EECH PIT

AN ARRAY IS TWENTY THOUSAND KEELOS TIMES FOUR

THAT MUCH

ITS KNOT VERY MUCH WE WILL HAVE A MILL YEN POUNDS OF EXPLOSIVE ON THAT MOUNTUN IN THE NEXT TWO DAYS

BETTER YOU THAN ME

He signed off before Betty noticed what he had done, his mind racing as he tried to figure out why the army needed a million pounds of explosives to fix some bad roads.

As he was heading toward the main entrance to see if anything was going on outside, he heard a loud banging on the front door. One of the army guys opened it, and Lono saw a pretty, dark-haired woman wearing shorts and a T-shirt, hard hat under her arm, walk in like she owned the place. Two men, also carrying hard hats, were right behind her.

"Well, boys," she said to the army guys, "looks like you got something you can't handle and you had to ask for help."

The army guys laughed and started shaking hands with the two men behind her. Everybody seemed to be old friends, acting like this was some kind of reunion.

This isn't about roads,Lono thought. Definitely not about roads.

Then Lono heard the helicopter.

A few minutes later Lono saw Mac coming down the hall with an older, white-haired army man who looked like a commanding officer.

"Hey, Mac," Lono said. "What the heck is going on?"

Mac did not seem pleased to see him. The army man looked even less pleased.

"Who the hell is this?" the army man said.

"You need to leave, Lono," Mac said. "If you'd called, I would have told you not to come. I'm suspending interns until further notice."

"Why?"

Mac ignored the question. "Anyway, you should be in school," he said.

"I got permission," Lono lied.

"How'd you get here?"

"I hitched."

Mac blew out air, obviously pissed, and shook his head. "Well, Jenny Kimura's going to town in a few minutes, so she can give you a lift back. Get your stuff together and meet her in front. You can't be here today."

Mac and the army man hurried away, leaving Lono standing there.

Lono was just a kid, but he knew when people were lying to his face. The story about roads was a crock. Why would Mac suspend interns at HVO without even giving a reason to the intern standing right in front of him?

Maybe the island wasn't so safe after all.

He went outside to look for Jenny and saw a big army van parked in the lot. It was the size of a small school bus and painted a drab green, the color of seaweed. A bunch of antennas were sticking up from its roof, and two satellite dishes were mounted on the front.

Lono walked around to the back of it. The door was open, and he could see a lot of electronic equipment inside and men sitting in front of monitors wearing headphones. One man was talking as he punched away at a keyboard.

Another man turned and saw Lono. He got up, glaring at him, and slammed the van door in his face.

All of a sudden Lono felt like he was behind enemy lines.