Goodbye California - Alistair [65]
‘It’s possible, of course, but it’s equally impossible to tell. A seismograph is incapable of deciding the nature of the source of shock waves. Generally, almost invariably, we are in no doubt as to the source. We ourselves, the British and the French announce our nuclear tests: the other two members of the so-called nuclear club are not so forthcoming. But there are still ways of telling. When the Chinese detonated a nuclear device in the megaton range – a megaton, as you are probably aware, is the equivalent of a million tons of TNT – clouds of radiation gas drifted eventually across the US. The cloud was thin, high and caused no damage, but was easily detected – this was in November nineteen-seventy-six. Again, earthquakes, almost invariably, give off after-shocks.
‘There was one classical exception – again, oddly enough, in November of nineteen-seventy-six. Seismology stations in both Sweden and Finland detected an earthquake – not major, on the four-something Richter scale – off the coast of Estonia. Other scientists disputed this, figuring that the Soviets have been responsible, accidentally or otherwise, for a nuclear detonation on the floor of the Baltic. They have been disputing the matter ever since. The Soviets, naturally, have not seen fit to give any enlightenment on the matter.’
Barrow said: ‘But earthquakes do not occur in that region of the world.’
‘I would not seek, Mr Barrow, to advise you in the matter of law enforcement. It’s a minor area, but it’s there.’
Barrow’s smile was at its most genial. ‘The FBI stands corrected.’
‘So whether this man Morro detonated a small nuclear device there or not I can’t tell you.’ He looked at Hardwick. ‘You think any reputable seismologist in the State would venture a definite opinion one way or another on this, Arthur?’
‘No.’
‘Well, that’s the answer to one question, unsatisfactory though it may be. But that, of course, is not the question you really want to ask. You wanted to know whether we – I, if you like – was entirely accurate in locating the epicentre of the shock in the White Wolf Fault instead of, as Morro claims, in the Garlock Fault. Gentlemen, I was lying in my teeth.’
There was a predictable silence.
‘Why?’ Crichton was not a man noted for his loquacity.
‘Because in the circumstances it seemed the best thing to do. In retrospect, it still seems the best thing.’ Benson shook his head in regret. ‘Pity this fellow Morro had to come along and spoil things.’
‘Why?’ Crichton was also noted for his persistency.
‘I’ll try to explain so that Mr Sassoon, Major Dunne and the two policemen here – sorry, ex-policemen – will understand. For you and Mr Barrow it may not be so easy.’
‘Why?’
It seemed to Alec Benson that Crichton was a man of remarkably limited vocabulary, but he refrained from comment. ‘Because those four are Californians. You two are not.’
Barrow smiled. ‘A State apart. I always knew it. Secession next, is that it?’
‘It is a State apart, but not in that sense. It’s apart because it’s the only State in the Union where, in the back – and maybe not so far back – of the mind of any reasonably intelligent person lies the thought of tomorrow. Not when tomorrow comes, gentlemen. If tomorrow comes.
‘Californians live in a state of fear or fearful resignation or just pure resignation. There has always been the vague thought, the entertainment of the vague possibility, that one day the big one is going to hit us.’
Barrow said: ‘The big one. Earthquake?’
‘Of devastating proportions. This fear never really crystallized until as late as nineteen-seventy-six – third time I’ve mentioned that year this morning, isn’t it? Nineteen-seventy-six was the bad year, the year that made the minds of people in this State turn to thoughts they’d rather not think about.’ Benson lifted a sheet of paper. ‘February four, Guatemala. Seven-point-five on the Richter scale. Tens of thousands died. May six, North Italy. Six-point-five. Hundreds