Chapter 4

Hawaiian Volcano Observatory, Hawai‘i

Time to eruption: 114 hours

In the men's room, John MacGregor leaned over a sink, buttoned the collar of his blue work shirt, tugged up the black knit tie, and ran his fingers through his hair. Then he stepped back a few feet and looked at himself in the mirror. A dispirited face stared back at him. He tried to smile, but it looked painted on. John MacGregor sighed. He hated doing press conferences even more than he hated running budget meetings.

When he stepped out, he found Jenny Kimura waiting for him. "We're ready, Mac."

"They're all here?"

"Honolulu crew just arrived." Jenny was thirty-two, the scientist in charge of the lab. She was a Honolulu native with a PhD in earth and planetary sciences from Yale, well-spoken, very attractive. Extremely attractive, MacGregor thought. Ordinarily she did the press conferences, but she had flatly refused to do this one.

"Sounds like a Mac thing to me" was what she'd said.

"I'll pay you to make it a Jenny thing."

"You don't have enough money," she'd said.

Now MacGregor fiddled with the knot on his tie. "What do you think?" he asked her.

"I think you look like you're on your way to the electric chair," she said.

"That bad?"

"Worse."

"Does the tie make me look like a wimp? Maybe I should take it off."

"It's fine," Jenny said. "You just have to smile."

"You'll have to pay me," he said.

She laughed, took him gently by the elbow, and steered him into the changing room. They passed rows of lockers and a line of green heat-resistant jumpsuits that hung from wall hooks, each with a name over it.

"These shoes hurt," Mac said. He was wearing polished brown oxfords he'd thrown into the truck that morning. They squeaked as he walked, a shoe-store sound.

"You look very akamai for a kama‘āina," she said. Sharp and with it—for someone who wasn't a native. "I've put the big map on an easel for you to refer to," she continued, back to business. "The rift zones are marked. The map's been simplified so it'll read clearly on TV."

"Okay."

"Will you want to use the seismic data?"

"Is it ready?"

"No, but I can get it for you in a blink. The past three months or all of last year?"

"Last year will be clearer."

"Okay. And satellite images?"

"Just MODIS."

"It's on poster board."

They came out of the changing room, crossed a hall, went down a corridor. Through the windows, Mac saw the other buildings of the Hawaiian Volcano Observatory, all connected by tin walkways. The HVO was built on the rim of the Kīlauea caldera, and even though no lava was flowing in the crater these days, there were always lots of tourists walking around, pointing down at the steam vents.

A fleet of TV trucks, most of them white with satellite dishes mounted on top, were in the parking lot. MacGregor sighed. It wasn't a happy sound.

"It'll be fine," Jenny said. "Just remember to smile. You have a very nice smile."

"Says who?"

"Says me, handsome."

"Are you flirting with me?"

She smiled. "Sure, go with that."

They walked through the data room, where computer techs were hunched over keyboards. He glanced up at the monitors suspended from the ceiling that showed views of various parts of the volcano. Sure enough, there was now steam coming out of the summit crater of Mauna Loa, proof that he'd been right, that he wasn't being alarmist—the eruption was only days away. He felt as if a ticking clock had begun its countdown.

As they went through the room, a chorus of voices wished him luck. Rick Ozaki's voice cut through the others: "Nice shoes, ya!"

Now Mac managed a real smile; he reached behind his back and flipped off his friend.

They went through another door and down the main hallway. In the room at the far end, he saw the podium and the map mounted on the easel. He heard the murmur of the waiting reporters.

"How many are there?" Mac asked just before they walked in.

"Everyone we expected," Jenny said. "Now go be your best self."

"I don't have a best self," he said.

Jenny moved to one side, and Mac stepped forward and felt the eyes of everyone in the room focus on him.

Tako Takayama had told him that when Mauna Loa erupted in December of 1935, George Patton, then a lieutenant colonel in the U.S. Army Air Corps, had been part of the effort to divert the lava flow. At this moment Mac felt like that kind of heat was rushing toward him.

Yeah,he told himself, that's me, Old Blood and Guts MacGregor.