Genesis Plague by Sam Best Read Free Book Online Page B

risk…well, you know.” He shrugged.
    Flint leaned forward.
“How strong are the quakes?”
    “Less than
one-point-seven.”
    “And how often?”
    Levino was more
hesitant answering that question. “The USGS station reports there has been a
steady flurry since yesterday afternoon.”
    Flint frowned and sat
back, thoughtful. The U.S. Geological Survey station in Hawaii would have known
better than our lab back in San Francisco what was going on at their own
doorstep, so I wondered why Flint was disturbed.
    “But they assure me
that everything is fine,” said Levino quickly. “These microquakes happen all
the time. And besides, if she were to erupt, we would get a hell of a
lot more warning than a handful of minor tremors.”
    Flint’s frown deepened.
    “Is that true?” I asked.
    “Generally, yes,” Flint
said. “But there have been eruptions without warning.”
    “Such as?”
    “There was Tongariro in
New Zealand just a couple years ago. And Eldfell in Iceland back in ’73. They
almost evacuated the island permanently after that one.”
    “And it happened
without warning,” I said.
    “They only saw what
Levino says the USGS is reporting now.” Flint stared up at the volcano.
    The Jeep hit a pothole
and bounced back out. Levino grunted loudly and Mike smiled as he turned onto a
dirt road that curved around the base of the volcano. In the distance, the
glowing fissure was clearly visible on the volcano’s north side.
    Mike drove us around a
large bend and parked next to a cluster of off-road SUVs that were fully
equipped for almost any rugged eventuality. Their tires were oversized, with
chunky treads. They had elevated chassis for rock crawling, gas and water tanks
strapped to the back doors, and engine snorkels.
    Fifty feet away,
half-a-dozen large, white tents encircled a wide patch of low grass, trampled
down by foot passage. I recognized Phil Riley from my lab and his two
assistants near one of the tents, but the majority of researchers buzzing
around were new.
    “Who are these people,
Roger?” I asked as I hopped down from the Jeep. Cass put her hands on my
shoulders and jumped down next to me.
    “Vultures,” he sniffed
distastefully, “circling our kill.”
    He stomped off to a
tent to yell at one of Riley’s assistants about moving a delicate piece of lab
equipment.
    “He’s taking this
rather seriously, don’t you think?” said Cassidy as she surveyed the camp. A
thin sheet of sweat stood out on her bronzed skin, and strands of hair clung to
the side of her face as she squinted against the powerful sun.
    “Well, he did say the
lab would be shut down without fresh funding,” I said. “Bureaucratic types tend
to take that kind of thing to heart.”
    At least a dozen people
moved about the camp, either carrying paper printouts from one tent to another,
or setting up satellite communication hardware.
    “Since Levino won’t
tell us,” I said, “we should try to figure out what we’re doing here in the
first place.”
    “Oh my God ,”
said Cass, looking to the other end of the camp. She shielded her eyes to block
the sun. “Is that King?”
    I followed her gaze to
see Levino, now at the far end of camp, who looked as if he was trying to
explain something very delicate to a person who didn’t care. That person was Alexander
King, whose pearl-white teeth gleamed out of his tanned face when he smiled,
even at a distance. He was dressed in white chinos and a cotton long-sleeved
shirt. A white, short-brimmed hat sat tilted back atop his shining, hairless
scalp.
    He slowly looked over
at Cass and me while Levino continued his lecture.
    Cass shuddered. “He
really creeps me out,” she said quietly. “What do you think he’s doing here?”
    Alexander King, or
Xander, as he preferred to be called, had a reputation in our scientific
community as being something of an entrepreneurial poacher. He tended to crawl
out of the woodwork whenever a new discovery was made to see if there was