The Leviathan Effect (39 page)

“Yes?”

“That’s part of a levee system the Army Corps built decades ago. Unfortunately, it was never finished. There are two big gaps in it. One is near Constitution Avenue south of Twenty-third Street. The other is at Seventeenth Street. The Park Service is placing sand bags in the gaps right now. But it’s only going to be a Band-Aid at best. It’s not enough to hold back the water.”

“So what does that mean?” the Vice President said.

The FEMA director answered. “What that means,” she said, “is that water will surge through those gaps, and downtown will be flooded. There’s probably nothing we can do about that.”

The National Security Adviser cursed under her breath.

The FEMA director went on: “In fact, much of the National Mall is built on old sea walls that have been crumbling for years. The hit on the Mall is going to be severe, I’m afraid. I don’t think there’s any way around that.”

The President lifted his forefinger. “On a related point: I’ve been on the phone with the Parks director and the directors of the National Gallery and the Smithsonian, and those buildings are all being secured as we speak.”

“So you’re saying the Mall is going to be a minimum of ten feet under water and there’s nothing we can
do
about it?” the Vice President asked.

When no one answered, Dr. Wu said, “Yes, sir. The real question is going to be how long will the water stay in the city.” Everyone watched him, waiting. “The worst case is that, in some places, it stays indefinitely. The boundaries of the city change, in other words. The best case, it recedes, we drain it, and we eventually get back at least a semblance of what we had.”

The President nodded at him appreciatively. “Thank you, Jim.” He clasped his hands. “So, folks: bottom line, this thing is coming harder and faster than anyone expected. We need to aggressively accelerate our response. We’ve got mandatory evacuations up and down the coast, as you know. And we’re coordinating efforts with all of our coastal states. As Director Brewster tells me, we need to hammer home the message that people within a hundred miles of the coast need to leave immediately. End of story. Staying behind is foolish but it’s also illegal. Right now, though, for us, the biggest threat is right here in Washington.” The President nodded to the D.C. Emergency Management Director, John Hasty. “John?”

“Thank you, sir.” Hasty, a slight, ruddy man with thin, silver hair, clicked on his remote, without standing. “Just to quickly summarize. We have fourteen primary evacuation routes that we will use to direct motorists out of the city beginning at two
P.M.
this afternoon. Pennsylvania Avenue is the dividing line. Those north of Pennsylvania will be directed to the northeast and west on radial evacuation routes.”

He enlarged the map, showing the spokes of the routes out of D.C., none of which crossed.

“To the south of Pennsylvania Avenue, they’ll be directed south, east and west.”

“Once they leave, no one’s coming back in,” the President said.

“That’s correct. We’ll have four inbound routes for emergency vehicles only.”

The President’s eyes stopped on Blaine’s for a moment. He was sizing up her reaction. For a moment, she thought of how this had started: being in West Virginia just last Sunday, seeing the strange message from Kevin on her BlackBerry.
How quickly everything changes. How quickly it’s all gone
.

“For the time being, I am going to stay here,” the President said. “But we need to begin moving people to other locations. Speaker Davis is on his way to Mount Weather in Virginia as we speak. Bill, I’d like you to move to Bolling Air Force Base overnight.”

Silence followed. Blaine understood what he was saying.
Succession
. He was taking precautions, in case the worst happened. The President would go to one facility, the Vice President to another, the Speaker to a third.

“Is this really that bad, sir?” Blaine asked.

“Well. That is what our emergency management officials are telling me we should do. And that is how we’re responding. I just met with JOC an hour ago. That’s how they’ve laid it out.”

JOC. Joint Operations Center of the Secret Service
.

Blaine looked at Dr. Clayton, whose dark eyes were watching attentively.

“This is the hard reality, folks. Okay? On a personal note, get your families and loved ones out of the area as soon as possible, if you haven’t already. We’re expecting dangerous winds and rains within the next few hours. This is our window to get out. Right now. I am asking everyone who isn’t absolutely essential to the emergency response to leave.”

He opened the briefing folder he had carried into the room. Let his eyes scan the page.

“Already, we’ve got, let’s see, uh, most of two counties in North Carolina half under water. Ten inches of rain in some parts of Virginia. Trees down, debris blocking roads. And we’re seeing some
fierce lightning storms, I’m told, that even our top scientists can’t quite figure out. And it’s all heading this way.”

No one spoke. The President’s tone left no opening for discussion, although Blaine sensed that his demeanor was not quite in sync with what he was really thinking.

“Okay? That’s where we are. Now Director Brewster will convene an additional briefing for you down on C Street at FEMA headquarters. She’ll cover the specifics of our evacuation plans, the pre- and post-storm drills, etc. And now, if possible, I’d like Secretary Blaine, Director DeVries, and Vice President Stanton to stay behind for a few minutes. Thank you.”

Blaine remained seated, as did DeVries and Stanton.

But she was surprised to see that two of the other people in the room stayed in their seats as well.

“A
LL RIGHT
.” G
RAVELY
,
THE
President folded his hands. “What we just laid out, folks,” he said, “was Scenario A. The evacuations, the deployment of FEMA teams and the National Guard. It’s the prudent and appropriate response to the information we’re receiving on this storm.”

Blaine, watching her boss, felt stunned and helpless. She thought of Kevin.
Where was he?

“Now.” He took a deep breath and looked directly at Blaine. “We are also looking at a Scenario B. A different strategy. Different outcome. Which, I’ll say right upfront, is probably not as likely as what you have just seen and heard. And which, I might add, is not for public consumption. But I want all of you to be aware of it. First, Dr. Wu, can you tell us where we are with Weathervane?”

Blaine watched the diminutive scientist as he stood again and nodded, his face expressionless.
Did Weathervane even matter any more
? she wondered.

“As you know,” Dr. Wu began, “the Weathervane Group yesterday provided us with a series of projections for how their mitigation project would unfold. I’ve tried to boil this all down into very simple terms.” He clicked open a screen full of figures on the large monitor. “The numbers on the top are the projections we were given yesterday by Weathervane.” The figures showed barometric pressure in inches, wind speed in miles per hour, wind field size, and thermal wind shear calculations. “The numbers at bottom are the actual real-time numbers. Obviously, there is a consistent discrepancy.”

Everyone stared at the numbers, with varying degrees of interest.

“So, it’s not working as advertised,” said the Vice President.

“No, that’s right.”

There was a long pause, as he seemed to be waiting for some cue from the President. Blaine studied Dr. Wu’s intelligent, unrevealing face, his short, black bangs, and wondered what he really thought. Years earlier, Wu had expressed a stubborn skepticism about hurricane mitigation, once telling a TV interviewer that any money spent studying it “might just as well be dropped from an airplane into the eye of the hurricane.”

“Thank you, Jim,” the President said. “Now, I’d like to let Jared Clayton explain Scenario B. As you know, Dr. Clayton has been involved in storm mitigation research at the very highest levels for more than a decade. With Lawrence Livermore in California. With U.C. Berkeley. And independently. For the past eighteen months, he was a consultant for the people in this Weathervane Group. That relationship was severed this morning, and I am pleased to say that he is now working with us. He has some thoughts about what we can do—try to do—to mitigate this thing.”

“Thank you, sir.” Dr. Clayton said. “I want to first just say that I am humbled by what has happened since I last met with you.” His expression shifted uncomfortably, as he looked down at his notes. “But let me get right to the subject, as the President requested. At the crux of it is this: there is a chance, still, that we can utilize existing technologies to diminish the impact of this hurricane. And if that possibility exists, the feeling is that we must pursue it.”

“But, with all due respect, sir, what about your friends in the Weathervane Group?” asked the Vice President, smiling, a hint of disdain in his voice. “Isn’t this what you told us yesterday
they
were going to do?”

“No.” Clayton looked down, showing a contrite expression. “Actually, I think they were doing something quite different. Although I did not know that until last night. Which is why we’ve severed our relationship.” He glanced at Blaine. “Scenario B, as the President and I have discussed, is actually a completely different process—and an opportunity that will only exist for a few hours.”

“Please, explain,” said the Vice President.

“Yes, that’s my intention.” Dr. Clayton pursed his lips and swallowed. Blaine noticed his unruly gray eyebrows. “Yesterday,” he said,
“we told you about four mitigation processes. The fourth process involved creating a kind of synthetic, ion-charged bacteria cloud, which could potentially disrupt the storm’s inner weather, so to speak, and ultimately cause the eye wall to destabilize. What I’m beginning to understand is that this process, and maybe the others as well, was in fact created in response to an offensive trigger.”

“And what does that mean?” asked Vice President Stanton, smiling skeptically.

“Meaning, a self-assembly mechanism was generated first, and, from that, a mechanism to disassemble.”

“You’re saying this storm was created artificially,” said Harold DeVries.

“I think it’s possible, yes. Or enhanced and manipulated. And if it was done in the way that I suspect, this storm is, in effect, programmed to be self-sustaining. To have encoded in its structure the ability to continue replicating and growing.”

“Don’t all storms have that?” asked DeVries.

“To an extent, yes. But not like this. Storms gather strength by absorbing other systems, by feeding off of warm air and warm water. But eventually, they run into something that stops them. Incompatible winds, changes in temperatures or air pressures. That’s why we don’t get more deadly hurricanes than we do. This system seems somehow immune to the normal obstacle course that degrades a hurricane. It appears driven by something we have not seen before, which almost seems to resemble instinct.”

“That’s hardly possible, though, is it?” said the Vice President.

Blaine nodded, wanting him to get to the point.

“Well, you tell me what’s possible and what’s not,” Dr. Clayton said, surprising everyone by his shift of tone. “It’s being
studied
. Nearly every aspect of the weather is being studied in some form or another. There is a research center in northern California that has been doing independent research of this nature for the past several years.”

“Computer simulations, though, not actual weather events,” said DeVries.

He nodded.

“But you
did
use mitigation operations on those storms in the Pacific,” the President said.

“Yes, that’s correct. But with two clear differences. First, the Pacific systems were much smaller than this. And the mitigation began early in the storm cycle. Under normal circumstances, you have the greatest chance of affecting the outcome if you can manipulate the eye early in its evolution.”

“Under
normal
circumstances,” the President said.

“Right. But in this particular case, there
is
reason to be optimistic.” Clayton clicked a new image onto the screen, showing the animated color-enhanced swirl of Alexander. Ragged bands of red, orange, magenta, blue, green.

“What we’re seeing here is the potential disintegration of Alexander’s inner eye. That’s normal, and a rather good sign.” He used a red laser pointer to indicate a separate area of organization on the eastern-edge rain-bands. “And what we see
here
is the beginning of an outer eye wall, which will eventually move inside the system, stealing the inner eye wall of its moisture.”

“Choking it,” the President said.

“Choking it, yes.” The corners of Clayton’s mouth lifted. “It’s what is known as an eye wall replacement cycle. It happens in most major hurricanes when they reach Category Three. What will normally happen,” he continued, “is that this outer eye wall replaces the inner eye wall, forming a larger eye, and the hurricane re-intensifies.”

“Say that again,” said the Vice President.

“Yes.” Dr. Clayton nodded. “In large hurricanes, we often see a weakening of the inner eye. The storm, in effect, wants to grow larger, but the eye wall convection is not able to stay organized and the inner eye loses moisture and energy. In other words, one of the ways a major storm system gains strength is by replacing its eye wall. We didn’t know that fifty years ago. We do now. It’s adjusting, making room to grow bigger.”

“And?” asked DeVries, frowning.

“In the models we worked on last year, it was during the storm’s formative stages that we were able to bring about small but significant changes. When we were able to alter the structure of the storm as it was forming, and by doing so to alter its outcome.”

“But this one’s so far along,” said the Vice President. “We’re not talking about the early stages here.”

“No, we’re not. But that’s what the President means by opportunity.
In effect, we
will be
in the formative stages of this storm as it goes through its eye wall replacement cycle. What it’s doing is preparing to start over again. But, you see, until then it’s giving us an unusual opportunity.”