‘And all those earthquakes, with the exception of the ones in Greece and Italy, were related to the movement of what they call the Pacific plate, which causes the so-called ring of fire around the Pacific. The section that mainly concerns us, as everyone knows, is the San Andreas Fault where the north-east-moving Pacific plate rubs against the westward-pressing American plate. In fact, gentlemen, where we are now is, geologically speaking, not really part of America at all but part of the Pacific plate, and it hardly requires an educated guess to know that in the not-too-distant future we won’t physically be part of America either. Some day the Pacific plate is going to carry the western seaboard of California into the oceanic equivalent of the wild blue yonder, for where we’re sitting at the moment lies to the west of the San Andreas Fault – only a few miles, mind you, it passes under San Bernadino, just a hop, skip and jump to the east. For good measure, we’re only about the same distance from the Newport-Inglewood Fault to the west – that’s what caused the Long Beach ‘quake of nineteen-thirty-three – and not all that much further from the San Fernando Fault to the north, which caused, as you may recall, that very nasty business back in February ‘seventy-two. Seismologically speaking, only a lunatic would choose to live in the county of Los Angeles. A comforting thought, isn’t it, gentlemen?’
Benson looked around him. No one seemed to find it a comforting thought at all.
‘Little wonder, then, that people’s thoughts started turning inwards. Little wonder that they increasingly wondered, “When’s our time going to come?” We’re sitting fair and square astride the ring of fire and our turn might be any time now. It is not a happy thought to live with. And they’re not thinking in terms of earthquakes in the past. We’ve only had four major earthquakes in our known past, two of them really big ones on the order of eight-point-three on the Richter scale, Owens Valley in eighteen-seventy-two and San Francisco in nineteen-o-six. But, I say, it’s not those they’re thinking of. Not in the terms of major earthquakes but of monster earthquakes, of which there have been only two recorded in history, both of the Richter order of eight-point-nine, or about six times the destructive force of the San Francisco one.’ Benson shook his head. ‘An earthquake up to ten on the Richter scale – or even twelve – is theoretically possible but not even the scientific mind cares to contemplate the awfulness of it.
‘Those two monster ‘quakes occurred also, perhaps not coincidentally, in the first place in nineteen-o-six and nineteen-thirty-three, the first in Ecuador, the second in Japan. I won’t describe the effects to you two gentlemen from Washington or you’d be taking the plane back east – if, that is to say, you managed to get to LA airport before the ground opened up beneath you. Both Ecuador and Japan sit astride the Pacific ring of fire. So does California. Why shouldn’t it be our turn next?’
Barrow said: ‘That idea about a plane is beginning to sound good to me. What would happen if one of those struck?’
‘Assuming a properly sombre tone of voice, I must admit I’ve given a great deal of thought to this. Say it struck where we’re sitting now. You’d wake up in the morning – only of course the dead don’t wake – and find the Pacific where Los Angeles is and Los Angeles buried in what used to be Santa Monica Bay and the San Pedro Channel. The San Gabriel Mountains might well have fallen down smack on top of where we are now. If it happened at sea –’
‘How could it happen at sea?’ Barrow was a degree less jovial than he had been. ‘The fault runs through California.’
‘Easterner. It runs out into the Pacific south of San Francisco, by-passes the Golden Gate, then rejoins the mainland to the north. A monster ‘quake of the Golden Gate would be of interest. For starters, San Francisco would be a goner. Probably the whole of the San Francisco peninsula, Marin County would go the same way. But the real damage –’
‘The real damage?’ Crichton said.
‘Yes. The real damage would come from the immense ocean of water that would sweep into the San Francisco Bay. When I say “immense” I mean just that. Up in Alaska – we have proof – earthquakes have generated water levels three and four hundred feet above normal. Richmond, Berkeley, Oakland, all the way down through Palo Alto to San Jose would be drowned. The Santa Cruz Mountains would become an island. And even worse – to anticipate, Mr Crichton, there is worse – the agricultural heart of California, the two great valleys of San Joaquin and Sacramento, would be flooded, and the vast part of those valleys lie under an altitude of three hundred feet.’ Benson became thoughtful. ‘I hadn’t really thought of it before but, come to that, I don’t think I’d much care to be living in the capital either at that time for it would be dead in line of the first great wall of water rushing up the Sacramento river valley. Perhaps you are beginning to understand why I and my colleagues prefer to keep people’s minds off such things?’
‘I think I’m beginning to.’ Barrow looking at Dunne. ‘How do you – as a Californian, of course – feel about this?’
‘Unhappy.’
‘You go along with this way of thinking?’
‘Go along with it? If anything, I’m even ahead of it. I have the unpleasant feeling that Professor Benson is not only catching me up in my thinking but passing me by.’
Benson said: ‘That’s as maybe. There are, I must admit, another couple of factors. In the past year or so people have begun delving into records and then wishing they hadn’t delved. Take the northern part of the San Andreas Fault. It is known that a great earthquake struck there in eighteen-thirty-three although, at the time, there was no way of calibrating its strength. The great San Francisco ‘quake of nineteen-o-six struck there sixty-eight years later. There was one in Daly City in nineteen-fifty-seven but at a magnitude of five-point-three it was geologically insignificant. There hasn’t been, if I may use the term, a “proper” earthquake up north for seventy-one years. It may well be overdue.
‘In the southern San Andreas there has been no major ‘quake since eighteen-fifty-seven. One hundred and twenty years ago. Now, triangulation surveys have shown that the Pacific plate, in relation to the American plate, is moving northeast at two inches a year. When an earthquake occurs one plate jerks forward in relation to the other – this is called a lateral slip. In nineteen-o-six slips of between fifteen and eighteen feet have been measured. On the two inches a year basis, one hundred and twenty years could mean an accumulated pressure potential amounting to twenty feet. If we accept this basis – not everyone does – a major earthquake in the Los Angeles area is considerably overdue.
‘As for the central area of the San Andreas, no major ‘quake has ever been recorded. Lord only knows how long that one may be overdue. And, of course, the big one may occur in any of the other faults, such as the Garlock, the next biggest in the State, which has been quiet for centuries.’ Benson smiled. ‘Now, that would be something, gentlemen. A monster lurking in the Garlock Fault.
‘The third thing that rather tends to preoccupy people’s minds is that reputable scientists have begun to talk out loud – in print, radio and television – about the prospects that lie ahead of us. Whether they should talk out loud or not is a matter for their own principles and consciences: I prefer not to, but I’m not necessarily correct.
‘A physicist, and a highly regarded one, Peter Franken, expects the next earthquake to be of a giant size, and he has openly predicted death toll figures between twenty thousand and a million. He has also predicted that if it happens in the long-quiescent central section of the San Andreas the severity of the shock waves would rock both Los Angeles and San Francisco – in his own words, “quite possibly wiping them out”: it is perhaps not surprising that, per head of population, California consumes more tranquillizers and sleeping tablets than any place on earth.
‘Or take the San Francisco emergency plan. It is known that no fewer than sixteen hospitals in “kit” form are stored in various places around the city ready to be set up when disaster strikes. A leading scientist commented somewhat gloomily that most
of those, should a major earthquake occur, would probably be destroyed anyway, and if the city was inundated or the peninsula cut off the whole lot would be useless. San Franciscans must find this kind of statement vastly heartening.
‘Other scientists settle on a maximum of five years’ existence for both Los Angeles and San Francisco. Some say two. One seismologist gives Los Angeles less than a year to live. A crackpot? A Cassandra? No. The one person they should listen to. A James H. Whitcomb of CalTech, the best earthquake forecaster in the business. He has predicted before with an almost uncanny degree of accuracy. Won’t necessarily be located in the San Andreas Fault, but it’s coming very soon.’
Barrow said: ‘Believe him?’
‘Let me put it this way. If the roof fell in on us while we’re sitting here I wouldn’t raise an eyebrow – provided, that is, I had time to raise an eyebrow. I personally do not doubt that, sooner rather than later, Los Angeles will be razed to the ground.’
‘What were the reactions to this forecast?’
‘Well, he terrified a lot of people. Some scientists just shrugged their shoulders and walked away – earthquake prediction is still in its infancy or, at best, an inexact science. Most significantly, he was immediately threatened with a law suit by a Los Angeles city official on the grounds that such reports undermined property values. This is on record.’ Benson sighed. ‘All part of the “Jaws Syndrome” as it has come to be called. Greed, I’d call it. Recall the film – no one who had commercial interests at stake wanted to believe in this killer shark. Or take a dozen years ago in Japan, a place called Matsushiro. Local scientists predicted an earthquake there, of such and such a magnitude at such and such a time. Local hoteliers were furious, threatened them with God knows what. But, at the predicted place, magnitude and time, along came the earthquake.’
‘What happened?’
‘The hotels fell down. Commercial interests, commercial interests. Say Dr Whitcomb predicted a ‘quake on the Newport-Inglewood Fault. One certain result would be the temporary closing of the Hollywood Park Race Track – it’s almost smack on the fault, and you can’t have tens of thousands of people jammed into a potential death-trap. A week goes by, two weeks, and nothing happens. Loss of profits might run into millions. Can you imagine how much Dr Whitcomb would be sued for?
‘And the Jaws Syndrome is just first cousin to the Ostrich Syndrome. Put your head in the sand, pretend it’s not there and it’ll go away. But fewer and fewer people are indulging in that, with the result that fear, in many areas, is reaching a state dangerously close to hysteria. Let me tell you a story, not my story, but a very prophetic short story written some five years ago by a writer called R. L. Stevens.
‘If I recall correctly it was called The Forbidden Word. There was a California Enabling Act which prohibited all reference to earthquakes in print or public. Penalty of five years. The State, apparently, has lost, by death or flight, fifty per cent of its population because of earthquakes. Roadblocks at State lines and people forbidden to leave. A man and girl are arrested for mentioning the word “earthquake” in a public place. I wonder when we’re going to have a real life Enabling Act, when a mounting hysteria will drive us into a nineteen-eighty-four Orwellian situation?’
‘What happened?’ Barrow said. ‘In the story?’
‘It’s not relevant, but they got to New York which was crowded by the millions of Californians who’d fled east and were arrested by the Population Control Board for mentioning the word “love” in public. You can’t win. The same as we can’t win in this situation. To warn, to cry doom, the end of the world is nigh? Or not to warn, not to frighten them into a state of near-panic? For me, there is one crucial factor. How can you evacuate three million people, as in Los Angeles, on a mere prediction? This is a free society. How in God’s name can you close down coastal California, ten millions, maybe more, and hang around for an indeterminate time while you wait for your predictions to come true? Where are you going to go, where are you going to put them? How can you make them leave when they know there is no place to go? This is where their homes are, their jobs are, their friends are. There are no homes anywhere else, no jobs anywhere else, no friends anywhere else. This is where they live, this is where they’ll have to live, and, even though it’s sooner rather than later, this is where they’ve going to have to die.
‘And while they’re waiting to die, I think they should be allowed to live with as much peace of mind, relative though that may be, as is possible. You’re a Christian in the dungeons in Rome and you know it’s only a matter of time before you’re driven into the arena where the lions are waiting. It doesn’t help a great deal if you are reminded of the prospect every minute. Hope, however irrational, springs eternal.
‘Well, that’s my attitude and that’s my answer. I have lied in my teeth and I intend to go on doing so. Any suggestions that we were wrong will be vehemently denied. I am not, gentlemen, committed to a lie: I am committed to a belief. I have, I think, made my position very clear. Do you accept it?’
Barrow and Crichton looked briefly at each other, then turned to Benson and nodded in unison.
‘Thank you, gentlemen. As for this maniac Morro, I can be of no help there. He’s all yours, I’m afraid.’ He paused. ‘Threatening to explode an atomic bomb, or suchlike. I must say that, as a concerned citizen, I’d dearly love to know what he’s up to. Do you believe him?’
Crichton said: ‘We have no idea.’
‘No inkling what he’s up to?’
‘None.’
‘Suspense, war of nerves, tension. Creating fear, hoping to panic you into precipitate and misguided action?’
‘Very likely,’ Barrow said. ‘Only, we haven’t got anything to act against yet.’
‘Well, just as long as he doesn’t let it off under my seat or in any other inhabited area. If you learn the time and place of this proposed – ah – demonstration, may I request a grandstand seat?’
‘Your request has already been granted,’ Barrow said. ‘We were going to ask you anyway. Would there be anything else, gentlemen?’
‘Yes,’ Ryder said. ‘Would it be possible to borrow some reading material on earthquakes, especially recent ones?’
Everyone looked at him in perplexity. Everyone, that is, except Benson. ‘My pleasure, Sergeant. Just give this card to the librarian.’
Dunne said: ‘A question, Professor. This Earthquake Preventitive Slip Programme of yours. Shouldn’t that delay or minimize the great ‘quake that everyone seems to think is coming?’
‘Had it been started five years ago, perhaps. But we’re only just beginning. Three, maybe four years before we get results. I know in my bones that the monster will strike first. It’s out there, crouched on the doorstep, waiting.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
At half past ten that morning Morro re-entered his study. Dubois was no longer at the observation window but was sitting at Morro’s desk, two revolving tape-recorders in front of him. He switched them off and looked up.
Morro said: ‘Deliberations over?’
‘Twenty minutes ago. They’re deliberating something else now.’
‘How to stop us, no doubt.’
‘What else? I gave up listening some time ago: they couldn’t stop a retarded five-year-old. Besides, they can’t even speak coherently, far less think rationally.’
Morro crossed to the observation window and switched on the speaker above his head. All four scientists were sitting – more accurately sprawling – round the table, bottles in front of them to save them the labour of having to rise and walk to the drinks trolley. Burnett was speaking, his face suffused with alcohol or anger or both and every other word was slurred.
‘Damn it to hell. All the way to hell. Back again, too. There’s the four of us. Look at us. Best brains in the country, that’s what we are supposed to be. Best nuclear brains. Is it beyond our capacity, gentlemen, beyond our intelligence, to devise a means whereby to circument – I mean circumvent – the d
evilish machinations of this monster Morro? What I maintain is –’
Bramwell said: ‘Oh, shut up. That makes the fourth time we’ve heard this speech.’ He poured himself some vodka, leaned back and closed his eyes. Healey had his elbows on the table and his hands covering his eyes. Schmidt was gazing into infinity, riding high on a cloud of gin. Morro switched off the speaker and turned away.
‘I don’t know either Burnett and Schmidt but I should imagine they are about par for their own particular courses. I’m surprised at Healey and Bramwell, though. They’re relatively sober but you can tell they’re not their usual selves. In the seven weeks they’ve been here – well, they’ve been very moderate.’
‘In their seven weeks here they haven’t had such a shock to their nervous system. They’ve probably never had a shock like this.’
‘They know? A superfluous question, perhaps.’