Denver Is Missing Page 8

  “But surely they can do something!”

  Again a ghost of a smile. “I’m not sure who ‘they’ are, but if you have any suggestions, I’m sure ‘they’ would welcome them. I will add that I have a shrewd suspicion that things are a lot worse up north than the State authorities will admit. They’re sitting on a lot of news, just as we know that they’re keeping their mouths shut about the situation in the Bay area. No. There’s nothing to do except prevent panic, sweat it out, and pray SARAH stops soon.”

  “It can’t go on.” I needed comfort too. “It can’t!”

  “Don’t bet on it, Mitch,” he said gently. “We stuck our finger into a deeper layer than anyone has done before. We got into the mantle, and whatever we thought we knew about the mantle last year, the knowledge was no better than an informed guess. Now we know we raised the catch on Pandora’s box!”

  My mind refused to grapple with it all. It was impossible; it just couldn’t happen. But it had.

  “What are we going to do—we can’t go on as if nothing had happened!”

  “No, we can’t,” he spoke carefully, choosing his words. “Indeed we can’t—and remember, we’re talking about the situation before this latest news of the swell. There could be ten times as much nitrogen pouring out.”

  “Well, another earth movement is, sooner or later, inevitable!”

  “I’m glad you’ve got your head out of the sand, Mitch. Yes, it is inevitable. Of course, we can have no idea of the size of the cavity, but I am certain it is larger. About the only consolation is that the stuff is not inflammable.” He stood up; there was a certain dignity in his toad-like face.

  “Mitch. I have to tell you there is no point in going on with our work. As an Institute we are finished. It hardly matters now, but that is the way it is. It would also be wrong to retain you and the others. There is nothing for you here. Get out. Leave.”

  “Just like that, eh? And what about—”

  “No, don’t be even more difficult. I feel tired and I feel my age.” He sighed and stared at the wall-map. “It is hard luck on the people backing us, but I don’t suppose they will have much time to think about that. Not now.”

  “I’ll stay.” My heart was bumping again.

  “Thank you for that, Mitch, but no. It’s no good arguing.” He picked up a paper. “I’m giving notice to all the technical staff, as of today. Some—smarter than you— are only too anxious to go. You all get a month’s salary— we can run to that. So go—now! See Manston in Boston, he’ll be glad to have you.”

  “I can’t walk out—what would you do?”

  “Strangely enough, I can exist without you, Mitch! What I will do,” he amended, “I will join the Berkeley committee, and like it or not, concentrate on piezomagnetic changes.” He smiled without humor. “At least we will not be short of funds or resources. We may be able to give some worthwhile warning.”

  “But you can’t just fold the outfit!”

  “Indeed I can! Some preparatory work is already done. Even before SARAH, it all hung on us turning in a spectacular—we did that!” He smiled again. “No. Get it into your head that the Institute is, in your inelegant phraseology, bust, regardless.” He muttered irritably to himself, then shot out his hand. “Goodbye, Mitch. You’ll succeed, in spite of your flip manner. Thank you again, and go—no, it is better this way.”

  “But all the clearing up, the work—”

  There was malicious humor in the grin now. “Administration has always been on our backs, organizing. Now they have the chance of a lifetime! Now, go!”

  Somehow, shocked and stunned, I went.

  Two hours later, my farewells taken, I left the Institute for the last time. It could have been a tougher parting, but with everyone going, it was more like the end of a college term. I stuffed all my books and a few specimens in the old rented jalopy, and went home, if it could be called that For a long time I sat and tried to think objectively; there was a fair amount to chew over.

  First, SARAH. If Suffren’s information was right, something approaching catastrophe faced the West Coast. An item not to be overlooked was that the wave increase showed SARAH had escalated again, and the gas problem must be growing at a terrifying speed. The concentration I had experienced on the Tuscarora was, of course, far greater than they would get ashore, but even a quarter of that….

  At that stage my imagination gave out, or refused to function; for me the rest was unthinkable. I turned to my personal problems.

  The loss of my job was no great hardship, but separation from Suffren was. He could be downright cussed, but he was a great teacher, and but for his strongly independent streak, could have been high up in the academic world, instead of running himself bow-legged over our ill-fated Institute. But he preferred it that way, and apart from SARAH, did not I am sure, regret a moment of it.

  So that was the big loss, for I could easily get work, though it meant moving, and there I touched upon the problem of Bette….

  Financially I had no great worries. A year spent bashing rocks in Greenland for an oil company offered little opportunity for the gay life, but had been very good for my bank balance. If I took the Boston job, it would get me clear of what might come—I never pretended to be a hero —but would Bette come?

  Two hours brainwork and all I had was a pile of cigarette butts. I went to see her.

  She was just in from the hospital, tired and on edge. My account of the new menace of SARAH did not help. As I had found before, listening to myself reciting the latest news on SARAH had some impact on my mind, seemed to make it for real; it was not lessened by her reaction.

  She moved restlessly around the room, silent while I talked, playing nervously with an unlit cigarette. When I had finished, she came to a halt before the window, staring at the distant bay.

  “It all adds up. I told you they were evacuating as many as they could from the hospital. Well, now they’ve stopped pretending it’s to clear beds for a possible emergency! Some specialist services and equipment are going—and if it wasn’t for one thing, I’d be out of a job right now.” She turned to face me. “By State Governor’s orders we’ve sent a cardiac team upstate. Two Navy helos took them—doctors, nurses, and equipment—this afternoon. We also have to get a second team formed, and check out all cardiac arrest gear. They’re making a very fast survey of all such gear in the state. Private practitioners, hospitals, police and fire departments—every single one! They’ve rooted stuff out of the hospital store which must have been around since World War One!” She laughed shortly. “And by one of those really great administrative foul-ups, while we’ve been packing patients in ambulances and sending them off to Santa Rosa—the Golden Gate Bridge is okay, and open for Service traffic—Navy helos are flying in cardiac and bronchial cases from up north!”

  She hesitated, and turned to the window again. “I may go on the next team, Mitch.”

  “You have to go?”

  “Yes, of course!” She flashed at me, “Try to realize what’s going on! I talked with a Navy medic who came in with one load. Up in the mountain townships east of Eureka there’s more than a hundred dead already! And I should talk about Eureka in the past tense; they had no warning of the wave!”

  “You reckon you’re really needed around here?”

  She frowned. “Wish I knew! For this first aid, yes, but after that, I’m not so sure. You see, what most of these cardiac cases need is good air, not medical treatment. I want to help, but I’m not experienced when it comes to a case that needs real attention. A second year nurse could do what I’ve been doing lately.” She shook her head. “We need specialists, not greenhorns, like me. Anyway, what are you getting at?”

  I told her about my job folding.

  “What you’re saying obliquely is that there’s no need for either of us to stay.”

  “Not exactly, honey, but heading that way. For sure there’s no work for me. I’m too specialized. I could get fixed up in Boston, but there’s you…. Maybe I’m push
ing my luck, but I hoped maybe you’d come along.”

  She disregarded the obvious inference. “My partners have been very good; with the practice dissolved, they’ve refunded my money.” She paused to see if I would comment. “Can you give me a little time, Mitch?”

  “Sure, but how about this emergency team angle?”

  “That I must do—you see that, don’t you? From what I’ve heard it wouldn’t last much more than three, perhaps four, days.”

  “And it could be Eureka?” I thought for a moment. “Hey, I don’t remember any news about that!”

  “No,” she said grimly. “And I don’t suppose you will! Press and TV have generated a few crises in their time, and the authorities won’t allow panic to be spread in the sacred name of the freedom of speech! As for where I might be sent,” she shrugged, “I wouldn’t know.”

  The telephone rang; in the silent room, the sound made my nerves tingle.

  “And that,” observed Bette, “could be it!”

  It was. Bette was to report, ready to leave, in an hour. She changed swiftly into K.D. and calf-length boots, grabbed a ready-packed grip.

  “Honey,” I said, “it makes me feel useless, but I’m proud of you.” I kissed her.

  “Darling.” Self-consciously she adjusted her forage cap. “Don’t be too proud. I’m scared!”

  “Not once you’re on the job!” I spoke with conviction.

  I drove her to the hospital, and hung around while she got her orders. She returned, stiffened up by tension. Her destination was unknown, duration was probably three, maybe four, days. A helo would pick the team up, and that would be any minute.

  The helo arrived, a big twin-rotor banana job with Navy markings, fanning stinging dust. As the equipment was loaded we kissed, and she promised to call me if she could.

  I watched miserably as the helo took off, redusting me. Then I drove slowly back to Bette’s place, feeling very depressed, and San Francisco after the wave was no help. Superficially, this part of town appeared unchanged, but that life blood of cities, cars, had thinned. Parking was no longer a problem; only the main roads leading to the waterfront were congested. Along these routes, day and night, rumbled giant transporters, lights flashing, taking in fresh earth-moving equipment, stores. Practically nothing came in by sea, for the swell prevented unloading in most places, even when a landing beach had been bulldozed through the ruins.

  Back in her apartment I started cleaning up and doing chores that she had had to leave, and was glad of something to do. Which is how I came to answer the door when Karen called.

  She gave me a warm but surprised smile. “Mitch! Bette home?”

  “No, but don’t let that stop you. Come on in.”

  She tried not to look at my apron. “Will she be long? I tried to phone; but none of those in the dock area are working yet.”

  “Oh, she’ll be about three days, I guess.”

  That stopped her. “Aw, come on, Karen—I won’t bite you!”

  She came in as if the place was booby-trapped, and I got the door shut and the apron off. I said, “Let me take your coat, it’s wet,” which it was, and I noted she was wearing the same dress I’d seen at our dismal party. She hung onto her bag, and perched on the edge of a chair, stiff and very unrelaxed, and refused a drink.

  “You sure it’s okay?”

  “What?”

  She looked even more uncomfortable. “Well, me being here….”

  “Sure! Why not?” All the same, remembering the episode in the cabin, I saw her point. I grinned at her. “Relax, honey! I’m only dangerous when there are tidal waves around!”

  She grinned back impishly. She knew I wasn’t the only one who caught fire on that bunk—and she knew I knew it, too. I dropped the subject and went on briskly, “You wanted Bette—anything I can do?”

  “I guess not, Mitch. Bill wanted to get some prescriptions from her—a few items for his medical outfit.” She smiled. “You know Bill!”

  “Yeah.” I could guess; he’d want to be ready for anything from a sore thumb to polio. “How’s the boat?”

  “It was a Navy boat that did the damage, and the Navy has arranged for Mayfly to be docked along with a whole heap of boats to be repaired. Bill’s taking her in right now.”

  “I’ll bet that makes him happy!”

  “Sure.” She had begun to ease off; now she was getting awkward again. “But one way it’s kinda tricky. In drydock you can’t use the lavatory or anything. They’ve got ablution blocks on the dock side, but they’re for men only.”

  I was catching up. “So you’ve been tossed off until Mayfly is afloat?”

  “Right. Well, I guess I’ll be on my way—”

  I could read her like a book. “C’mon, Karen honey, tell me.”

  She couldn’t look more embarrassed; flushed face, downcast eyes, the old-fashioned lot. Finally she took the plunge. “Bill told me to go to a hotel—he’s staying aboard —but the hell of it is I can’t find one! I can’t go to some swell place like the Mark Hopkins, and most of the places in my price bracket are either closed or full of emergency service workers. Being a woman, it gets to be difficult in some of the cheaper dumps. I—I was going to ask Bette if I could stay the night.”

  It could have been the way she said “swell hotels.” Something in her manner alerted me. I remembered that coat I’d hung up; like the dress, it was cheap. Okay, you do not take Paris creations when you go yachting, but her stuff was cheap cheap. A lot of things fell into place. I poured her a drink and made her take it. “Honey, you don’t have to be shy with me. You’re broke, aren’t you?”

  She sighed with relief and nodded. “It’s a mess. Bill’s a grand guy, but he is a foreigner and thinks all Americans are well fixed, except Californians, and they’re loaded.”

  “You don’t mean you pay—”

  “Gee, no!” The idea gave her a good time, but it didn’t last. “It’s all my fault. I pretended I was—you know how it is—I wanted it that way. We met at a very high-class yacht club, and I kinda gave the impression my uncle was a member. In fact, I’d gone there with a young guy.” She looked away from me. “You must think me—”

  “Oh no, I don’t. I never judge anyone if I can help it, unless I don’t like them, then I judge plenty. You had your reasons, let it go at that.”

  “Bill shattered me. He was good and kind and had that funny accent and was different from most—he’s a man— know what I mean?”

  I did.

  “I was fed up with my rotten job, roommates, everything. He was kind. Maybe I got to him in a weak moment when he was lonesome for female company. I was crazy; told him a pack of lies that didn’t matter anyway, and he let me sail with him.” She repeated, “Guess he was lonely.”

  I hardly blamed him: seven weeks alone crossing the Pacific, and I’d be crazy. “So Bill thinks you have no money problems?”

  Her dark, intense eyes were over-bright. “He offered me money, in case I was short. How could I tell him? I don’t have more than fifty bucks in the world! I could leave, come ashore, and get a job, but I can’t do that to him—and anyway, who wants a fifty-cent stenographer in San Francisco right now?”

  “You may sock me in the eye if you wish, but do you want out?”

  She thought about that. “It’s hard to say, Mitch. I don’t know. He’s marvelous, he really is, but he is a bit overpowering. He never gets mad at me, or really grumbles, but he makes me feel, somehow, inadequate. It was a crazy, spring madness….” Her voice tailed off, she stared blankly at her untouched drink, then she looked up and said, a shade defiantly, “Not that I regret a single moment of it!”

  It was high time to change the subject “Look, Karen, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t stay here. Bette would want you to.” I hurried on. “I’m going back to my dump as soon as I’ve finished here.”

  “I can’t!”

  “You can.” I could speak firmly to her. “And you will.” The battered bag took on a new significance. �
�Your overnight bag?”

  She was much given to nodding her answers, like a small shy child, and now she did it again. I took in her thin arms and frail-looking shoulders, and felt big, protective. A novel sensation for me.

  “Okay, the spare room’s through there. You go fix yourself, check the bed, then I’ll take you out for a meal.”

  “Gee, no, Mitch!”

  “Gee, yes!”

  We had a good evening, both aware that we were playing hookey. I learned more about Karen. A first generation Californian, her parents dead, she had been in a secretarial position in a L.A. real estate office. She liked swimming, cooking, dressmaking, and reading. A regular home-body, leading a drab colorless existence, rooming with three other girls, liberated in one pent-up flash by Bill —and now, unsure of herself, and anxious for the future.

  I got this in bits, and she worked hard on her brave front, but she did not fool me. Influenced by a few drinks, and free of the need for pretence, she nearly got gay.

  I carted her back to Bette’s, kissed her once, and left. I would call her first thing. Fine.

  But my phone was active next morning before I got around to calling Karen. Bette was calling me, her voice strange, hard. She would be back, either that evening or the next morning. I told her about Karen: for all the interest she showed, I might have been talking about the laundry.

  “Mitch—you were talking about Boston. Have you anywhere there we could stay?”

  That struck me as pretty screwy. “No. We could get fixed up when we get there.”

  “You get onto it today, soon as you can—please. We’re going. ’Bye.”

  This terse acceptance of my plan was very strange and disturbing.

  Karen was okay, and was off on a shopping expedition for Bill. Yes, she’d call back at the apartment that evening. I guessed she had a suspicion Mayfly wouldn’t be ready, and I doubted it too.

  I put in a call to Manston in Boston and got him. Fully aware I was paying, I kept it short, said I was out of a job and how about it? As Suffren had forecast, I got a very reasonable offer straight back; then, just as I was feeling good, Manston hesitated. Clear across the continent I felt it. He said, “There’s one difficulty. Do you have any accommodation lined up in Boston?”