At least, that's what he said.
"------------------------------------------------------"
"We have to find a way to talk to them, Wade! They're completely cut off down there!" Monique was becoming exasperated at the boy. She'd have thought he, of all people, would understand the need for communication. After all, the boy had basically spent all 10 years of his life in either his bedroom, or the GJ computer lab.
"I'm working on it! I'm working on it! I think there may be a way, but we have to get permission to use the Navy's Ultra Low Frequency Array – the one they use to talk to nuclear subs underwater. There's a chance that-"
"You got their number handy?" Monique asked, pen at the ready.
While she was doing that, the helicopter landed just outside the Hawaii Volcano Observatory, situated right next to the caldera of Kilauea volcano - Moana Loa's temperamental little sister on the Big Island. Not nearly as big, but much more active. A pair of scientists waited for Monique on the helipad.
"You must be Monique" the man of the pair said, "I'm Dr. Laurel Mitako, and this is Dr. Elizabeth Hardi. First time to the beautiful Big Island?" That was a scientist's idea of a joke. Where they were standing was about as far from the usual posters of waterfalls, lush jungle, and turquoise beaches as could be imagined. Nothing lived here. They might as well have been on the moon. From the Observatory, they could look down into the caldera of the volcano itself – a sea of absolute blackness that barely even reflected the sun. Far off in the distance, they could make out the edge of the Kilauea crater itself, steam rising all around it. "Beautiful Hawaii" this was not.
"Yes, it is. And it's not what I expected... You said on the phone that you may have come up with an idea what the bad-guys are up to?" Monique asked as they led her inside.
The vulcanologists brought up a computer display showing a 3-D "stair-step" seismic section of the area from the supposed 'lair' to the sub sea slope of the island itself. Monique opened up the mic on her headset so that Wade and Dr. Director would be able to hear everything that was said.
"Our idea," Dr. Hardi began, "is that they intend to set off an undersea landslide. With the – what was it called? OBD? - tunneling machine, it would be fairly easy to burrow into the soft basalt and set charges at appropriate places along the fault-lines you see here." She pointed to a just barely discernible pattern in the squiggly lines on the screen. Barely discernible to someone trained in reading seismic displays, that is...
"All I see is wiggly lines..." Monique admitted.
"I told you we should go straight to the interpretation, Lizz..." Laurel said.
"Yes, Doctor, but if we did that, we'd just have to explain how we arrived at that interpretation, and thus we'd be looking at this anyway..."
"This is not a peer-review - she is not likely to ask us to defend our methods, in this circumstance."
"Oh, well, excuse me, Dr. 'Dear Nature magazine - Please post the following list of retractions to my article'. I like to get things right the first time."
Monique tried to break in, "Uh, Doctors?..."
"You know perfectly well why that happened! They wanted that article two months before I'd even collected my notes on-"
"Doctors?" Monique tried again.
"Whatever. All I know is that I my paper not only got into Nature, but also passed the review of the Journal-"
"DOCTORS!" Monique finally yelled. They both looked at her as trying to figure out who she was and what she was doing there. "So, they're going to try to create an undersea landslide? What's the point?"
"Oh, well, you see," Dr. Mitako tried to collect his thoughts, "the water displaced by the landslide will create a pressure-wave – a P-wave – in the water, which will then travel along the ocean basin until it hits something in its way, where the water will then pile up into a tsunami. Remember what happened in Indonesia? Like that."
The Indonesian tsunami had devastated millions of acres and killed tens of thousands. It had been on the news for weeks, yes, she remembered that. "Okay, so... where would this tsunami hit?"
"Hit?" Dr. Mitako looked surprised at the question, "Well... I hadn't actually-"
"I have" Dr. Hardi sad somewhat smugly, "We can assume the wave will propagate normal to the slope of the slide, and the great-circle path will bring it right onto Japan. And by the way," she went on, showing off, "the first wave will 'hit' about six and a half to seven hours after the sea slide. Assuming an average speed of 600 miles per hour, of course."
"When did you work all that out?" Dr. Mitako wanted to know.
"While you were drawing your damn interpretation, is when I worked all that out. Really, Laurel, you must learn to work under pressure. Once Kilauea blows again, you won't be able to tell it 'Oh, wait a minute, I have to organize my notes and put together a proposal for-' "
"You're never going to let me forget that are you? Look, they didn't ask me to chart the land path for that flow... All they asked was where it was going go dump into the sea! So naturally-"
"- naturally you completely ignored the big, orange blocks on the map that -"
"I wasn't looking at that map! I was looking at the topo map! And it doesn't show-"
"DOCTORS!" Monique cried again, even louder than before, "So, about the slide, there'll be an earthquake? Won't that make it kind of dangerous down there?"
Dr. Mitako was back in his element now, "Oh, no, there'll be no earthquake. This isn't a tectonic thing, this is tiny – relative to earthquake forces – explosions along a fault line. If you could bring up the interpretation, dear?" he asked Dr. Hardi. She made a show of reaching down with one finger and clicking the computer's mouse – as if to say Why, yes, I believe I know how to do that... shall I do that for you now? SO glad I could help... Asshole.
"Now, this thin red line here," he pointed to the screen with his felt-tip marker, leaving little black streaks on it in the process – Dr. Hardi winced each time did so, "is the fault we believe he is-"
"Or 'she'" Lizz interrupted.
"... the fault we believe he or she is targeting. As you can see, here," another mark on the screen, "it's sort of like knocking the kickstand out from under a bicycle. This entire shelf here," another mark, "will then proceed to-"
Dr. Hardi suddenly grabbed the marker from Dr. Mitako's hand and threw it across the room. Then she looked back down at the screen as if nothing had happened.
"Uh... yes," Dr. Mitako continued pointing with his finger now, "will then proceed to slide down this slope ending up here. About twenty thousand metric tons of water will be displaced in the space of fifteen seconds, creating a P-wave of approximately a ten-to-the-eighth dynes."
All of which meant nothing to Monique. "Is that a lot?"
Dr. Hardi answered, "On the other side of the Pacific basin – and we'll just say that all that energy makes it there, because most of it will – the kinetic energy will be transferred into potential energy... or at least, about seventy-five percent of it will, which would equate to a wave about... oh... ten meters high. Around thirty feet."
Monique stared at the screen while that sunk in. A thirty-foot high wave. Two stories. Two and a half stories, more like. "So that's bad..." she summarized.
"Fairly bad, yes. Bigger waves have happened in historical time, but nothing that large has impacted Japan since feudal times" Dr. Hardi said, happy to be able to make a historical reference in front of the other Doctor.
"How do you know that?" again, Dr. Mitako was curious.
"BSc in Oceanography, minor in Asian History. Cal-Tech" she answered. Monique's eyes narrowed – here they went again...
"You never told me you had a BSc in Oceanography..."
"You never asked."
"Yes... well, being as I'm the one who initially hired you, I'd have thought that -"
"You hired me because I came in wearing open-toed shoes and no bra..."
"Now that's not fair! I checked your credentials! I read your papers! There was nothing inappropriate about the interview process, and you know it! The rest of the staff all agreed that -"
Dr. Hardi smiled, "You hired me because I wore open-toed shoes and no bra. Admit it, Laurel." Dr. Mitanko stood with a finger raised in objection, yet silent. Then he looked down at Dr. Hardi's sandal-encased feet, then back up to her chest, and finally her eyes. And then back at the staring Monique.
"Are there any questions, Monique?"
Monique shook herself out of her daze. In fact, she did have a question. If only she could remember what it was. Oh, yeah. She pointed at a thick red line on the screen "What's this line for?"
Dr. Mitako answered, "Oh, that's a major but un-connected fault. I doubt he... or she... would want to blow that one. For one thing, it would destroy the void they're using as a base of operations."
So it would destroy the lair. Don't lairs usually get destroyed during these things? Monique thought. Dr. Drakken's ice fortress... the lair made of cheese... Monkey Fist's island lair... 'Lairs' always seem to get destroyed...
"I see what you mean" she said diplomatically. She definitely did not want to start an argument with these two... scientists. "But what would happen if they did blow up the void?"
Dr. Hardi took over, "Oh, well... about sixteen times the displacement... so that would be about four times as much energy... so that would make the wave over a hundred feet high, in that case. Otherwise, everything the same. Just a bigger wave."
"Four times bigger? Over a hundred feet high? Would hit Japan in about six and a half hours?"
"Correct on all counts."
"You get that, Wade? You're hearing this?" Monique asked, still looking at the screen.
"We got it, Monique. Dr. Director just ran out of the room... and I mean ran out of the room. So yeah, we heard."
Monique turned to the doctors, "Thank you, Dr. Hardi, Dr. Mitako. I think I have work to do now. Dr. Director thanks you on behalf of the GJ, too. Now, I'd better get going..."
"Anything to be of assistance, Monique. We are government-funded, after all, so we're all on the same side here. If you need anything else, you have our number" Dr. Hardi said.
"Yes, I do. Thanks again" and Monique double-timed it back to the waiting helicopter.
"That was a low blow about the shoes and bra, Lizz..." Laurel said when the teenager was out of ear-shot.
"I know. I'm such a bad girl... So, where was it you're taking me tonight?"
Laurel put a hand in his jacket pocket, just to make sure the engagement ring was still there, "Oh, some place special. You'll see. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I have a monitor to clean off before someone starts nagging me about it."
"------------------------------------------------------"
"So what's the word on communications, Wade?"
"Yeah, we can do it. It's gonna be expensive – and Dr. Director said she's going to have to call in a lot of favors, but we can talk to them. Sort of."
"Sort of?"
"We can send a message to Shego or Ron – they have the new Communicators – at the rate of one character in about ninety seconds. That means it will take about an hour for them to receive a short, short text message. But we have Comm. Sort of."
"------------------------------------------------------"
"Ah, another guest!" Senor Senior chortled, "Kim Possible, teenage heroine. You've arrived late, though... No fruit-cup for you!"
"Senior Senior, Senior. This is the part where you give up" Kim repeated oft-used lines for lack of anything more clever to say.
"Ha! Ah yes... I believe the proper response is 'You believe you are all that, Kim Possible – but you are not!', is that right? Well, I'm afraid that just doesn't fit – neither me nor the situation. I believe you know our other guests?"
Kim hadn't been paying much attention, she'd been busy scoping out the room, number and placement of guards, potential exits, and most especially, the big red switch that said "Self Destruct" underneath. But now she saw them, "Bonnie, Cin... at least you're all right. And Will? What are you doing here?"
"It's a long story, Kim... and more than a little embarrassing. I'll tell ya later" Agent Du said, sounding rather depressed. He wasn't relishing having to tell that story. To anyone. Ever. Instead of 'book-movie deal' his mis-adventure now more the flavor of a 'comic-strip'.
"Well... nice outfits, anyway. Senor Senior always did have taste. I suppose I'll get the mini-skirt version..."
Senor Senior stood, "Actually, I do have one already tailored to your measurements, Miss Possible – but I'm afraid it will have to wait for another day, we have run out of time. Mr. White? Please escort Cin and Bonnie to the OPT. Have Mr. Blue keep an eye on them. I suppose restraints will be in order... zip-ties... Lord help me..." he added sadly. "Mr. Black and Mr. Grey – take Miss Possible and Agent Du to the lagoon. You know what to do."
Agent Du got up from his chair, "This is the death-trap thing, isn't it..."
Senor Senior only smiled and nodded.
"------------------------------------------------------"