The Old One Yields
Rick banked the Sky Wagon over the fleet. Scotty, in the front passenger
seat, had the camera ready. Hartson Brant, in the rear seat, had a
motion-picture camera poised. Governor Montoya, the fourth in the party,
even had his personal camera along.
Their cameras were not the only ones. Nearly every ship had its official
photographers, and there were photography planes in the air.
Directly under the Sky Wagon now was a U. S. destroyer. Aboard her was
the nuclear firing party from Los Alamos Scientific Laboratory, and the
UN Observer Group. On other ships of the fleet were the representatives
of the interested nations and the Seabees.
Rick turned up the volume of his plane radio. By agreement, the
countdown was to be broadcast to all aircraft over one of the airport
frequencies.
"Thirty seconds!" the voice said.
"Won't we need dark glasses?" Scotty asked.
"No," Hartson Brant replied. "The nuclear fireball won't emerge. If it
gets a little too bright, squint and turn your head."
"How long after the nuclear shot will the volcano go?" Rick asked.
"We don't know. Anywhere from seconds to hours. It depends on how much
of a path the nuclear shot cracks."
"Ten seconds!"
Rick made sure they had a good view of El Viejo's western slope, and
held the plane on course.
"Five, four, three, two, one ...
"Zero!"
There was an instant of quiet, then dust spurted from the deep hole,
followed by billowing clouds of pulverized rock. Down below, the earth
heaved as though from another earthquake, and a line of waves appeared,
running from shore outward!
The dust settled slowly, hanging in the air like a great gray ball.
The nuclear explosion, deep underground, had gone off.
"Now what?" Rick wondered.
Hartson Brant said quietly, "We may have to wait a while."
"That explosion sure didn't look like the pictures I've seen of shots in
Nevada," Rick told him.
"No, Rick. This was too far underground. They've had those in Nevada,
too, but the pictures don't get much publicity because they're not
spectacular."
Far below, where the end of the big hole had been, the huge chamber
blown by the atomic explosion was white-hot with trapped heat and
radioactivity. Below the chamber the earth was shattered, with myriad
tiny cracks reaching far down.
Some cracks reached the white-hot magma. Instantly the magma exploited
the new weakness, pressure was released until ...
"Look!" Even in the plane Scotty's yell was loud.
Rick turned in time to see the side of El Viejo blow off in an explosion
that made ten kilotons of fission seem puny indeed. For an instant he
saw thousands of tons of white-hot lava rise into the air, then it fell
into the sea. Instantly steam clouds blanketed the area, but the steam
was mixed with traces of red and gray from the rock carried upward.
A great boulder, weighing many tons, was hurled high in the air to fall
into the steam cloud. The great rift in the volcano widened, and the
molten lava was visible until steam rose again.
Under the steam cloud was an inferno, but it was only occasionally
visible as the wind tore rents in the vapor. The noise must be
deafening, Rick knew, but only a low rumble and an occasional hissing
could be heard in the plane.
"Well," Hartson Brant said wearily, "it worked."
Governor Luis Montoya spoke gently. "Yes, my friend. It did indeed work.
And it has saved our island. I doubt that a single life was lost, thanks
to you and your associates."
"We'd better be sure." The scientist smiled. "Rick, suppose you fly us
around the island?"
"Yes, sir." Rick instantly swung the Sky Wagon onto a northward course
that would take them past the erupting volcano and on to the north. He
kept well out to sea, because now and then he could see big rocks flying
through the air as the volcano spouted.
Only the immediate area was affected. The new outlet was about a half
mile wide, stretching from sea level and possibly below, to about a
quarter mile up the slope. Beyond the crater San Luz seemed normal,
although Rick knew there were no human beings in the area.
Not until he passed Redondo did signs of life appear, and then the beach
became black with people. The wave of humanity extended inward to the
slopes of El Viejo and along the beach to Calor. Past Calor, at the
airport, troops not needed on the perimeter waited for their planes.
Already there were planes landing.
Rick completed the circuit of the island, then on impulse moved past the
volcano and took a good look at where the diamond pipe had been. A
momentary wind blew the area clear long enough for him to glimpse
white-hot lava.
"Well," he remarked, "there go Connel's diamonds. Either buried, or
burned."
"Cheer up," Scotty said with a grin. "Maybe El Viejo is making some new
ones."
Governor Montoya added the final word. "I hope not. But if so, I can
only hope they will not be discovered just before the next eruption!"