The Vilcabamba Prophecy: A Nick Randall Novel (7 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Nick Randall moved
forward through the passageway, his halogen flashlight providing ten to twelve
feet of light in front of him. It was easy to become disoriented when moving
through such a dark area with no distinguishing features. Randall had heard
numerous stories of cave explorers becoming disoriented in the darkness and
wandering around aimlessly until their light ran out, trapping them forever in
a cold, dark tomb. Understanding this, Randall walked close to one wall of the
cavern, making an arrow in the dirt floor that pointed back to Phil and Mike
about every twenty feet.

As
he walked Randall found himself feeling very tired. Randall was a man of medium
build with dark hair and brown eyes. His body was muscular and lean, a result
of his penchant for exercise.
 
People who didn’t know the professor were surprised at the strength of
his grip and his incredible physical endurance, especially for a man in his
early fifties. The events of the day, however, had worn him down, and he
suddenly felt every bit his age.

 
He rubbed his aching muscles and kept
walking.
The quiet darkness giving him ample opportunity to
recall past events from his life.
He thought back to the exact moment
when he had developed his theory, sending his career and his life on a new
trajectory. It was on a field assignment at an excavation about 75 miles from
his current destination. At the time, Randall was a graduate student from
Georgetown University working on a dig near the ancient city of Nazca. While
cataloging artifacts, a colleague had asked if he would like to join him on an
aerial survey of the land.

During
the flight, Randall experienced an event that would shape his future in
archeology. From their aerial vantage point, the two archeologists witnessed
something unexpected on the landscape, below. Stretched out over several miles
were enormous shapes carved into the desert landscape. Unrecognizable from the
ground, these shapes took clear forms when viewed from an airplane. Among the
shapes they witnessed were a condor, a whale, human hands, a hummingbird,
and—strangest of all—a human shape that appeared to have a large,
dome-shaped helmet. The human figure carved into the desert landscape bore a
striking resemblance to an astronaut. It was also clear that these figures were
laid out with geometric precision, with some of the lines running parallel for
miles.

Upon
landing, an inquisitive Randall conducted his own research on the theories
associated with the Nazca Lines. He was exceedingly disappointed and perplexed
by the prevailing theory that the lines were pathways for the ancient Nazca
people to walk upon for ceremonial purposes. Most amazing of all, no empirical
data to support this theory had been presented in any of the literature.
Randall was dumbfounded and began to question the theories about the Nazca
lines. This might have created some controversy in itself, but Randall didn’t
stop there. One of the benefits of studying archeology was gaining access to
vast amounts of research and data on a variety of subjects. As he dug deeper,
Randall began to question many other established theories, as well. His
research became an obsession, and his graduate thesis about an alternative and
controversial new theory about the history of the region caused a stir at the
University. Clearly his new line of thinking did not sit well with his peers,
and it very nearly cost him his Ph.D.
Had
it not been
for his mentor Francisco Andrade, he most certainly never would have earned his
degree. In fact, it was Francisco who he now worked for at the University and
who had found this wonderful benefactor.

He
then remembered the first time he had visited the
Capanhuaco
and how they had been reluctant to share their secrets with him. It had taken
time and energy to earn their trust, but he finally convinced them to help him.
When they showed him their incredible jungle city of
Paititi
,
he realized it was the first piece of the puzzle he needed to prove his
controversial theories. It was that fateful day which had propelled him down
the road that led to this trip.

Now,
many scenarios played through his mind. Were the tablets right? Did the
underground city,
Vilcabamba
, really exist and was it
nearby? Would he be able to find it and, more importantly now, would he be able
to find help for Mike? Randall felt a twinge of guilt for bringing Phil and
Mike on the trip, but, as always, he had been completely open with them. They
knew that this could be a dangerous trip, but they had been eager to go.
Actually, they had demanded to go. At one point, Randall had planned to make
the trip with only a local guide and translator, but when the dynamic duo had
found out about the professor’s plans, they had insisted that he take them.
“What’s the point of studying archaeology if you can’t be in on the biggest
discovery ever?” Mike had commented to Randall when the two had confronted him
in his office. “Besides, we trust you, Dr. R.” Randall wondered if they still
felt that way.

Randall
checked his watch. He had been walking for almost an hour, and there was still
no sign of anything other than continuing darkness punctuated by occasional
tunnels veering off into more darkness. As Randall walked on through the
cavern, he stopped to rub his eyes. He was tired, but knew that he had to keep
moving. He had to find help for Mike. It occurred to him that he hadn’t slept
in over 24 hours. Until this point, the adrenaline had kept him alert and
focused, but having been in complete blackness for several hours, his body was
beginning to tell him that he needed rest.

Opening
his eyes, Randall wasn’t sure if his imagination was playing tricks on him, but
there appeared to be a soft glow of light ahead in the tunnel. He switched his
flashlight off, closed his eyes for about a minute, and then reopened them. He
could see it more clearly, now, a sort-of glow in the distance. His pace
quickened as he surged ahead, his light bobbing up and down as he ran. As he
did, he caught something out of the corner of his eye and pointed his light
toward the ground. There in his path was a fissure in the rocky floor. Randall
stopped abruptly, his momentum nearly carrying him into the opening.

Catching
himself, Randall teetered on the edge but was able to pull his body back from
the abyss, though not before kicking a small rock into the opening. The rock
descended, but made no sound. It simply vanished into the emptiness. Randall
assessed the opening and estimated the fissure to be about four to five-feet
wide. He considered his options. He could go back the way he had come and try
another route or go back to find Mike and Phil. Going back to Mike and Phil
meant starting over, again, from scratch and trying another route, which likely
meant running into a dead-end or another barrier.

Randall
decided to push forward. Backing up and taking a deep breath, he ran as fast as
his fatigued body would allow, his flashlight bouncing crazily. Randall tried
his best to keep the fissure illuminated. As he approached the edge, he lunged
across the opening to the other side. As he landed, his left ankle buckled
under him and he tumbled forward into the cavern. He felt a warm, sharp pain on
the back of his head as he hit the ground, losing consciousness for a few
moments. When he awoke, Randall winced as he touched the bloody
bump which
had formed. He picked himself up, dusted the dirt
off of his shirt and pants and continued walking with a slight limp. His left
ankle throbbed with pain from the rough landing.

As
he drew closer to the light, the cavern opened into a huge space, and the sight
that met his eyes shocked him. The small tunnel opened into a gigantic cavern
the size of
fifty football
fields set end on end. Upon
closer inspection, the cavern appeared to be hollowed out of solid rock and,
just as with the upper chamber, the walls were perfectly smooth. The cavern
radiated outward in a huge arc that spanned from one end of the opening to the
other. In the midst of the cavern were finely crafted stone temples radiating
out in a grid pattern reminiscent of a large modern-day city. Randall realized
immediately that this underground city,
Vilcabamba
,
looked remarkably similar to
Paititi
, the city he had
seen in the jungle months ago.

Randall
stood in awe of the sheer beauty of the architecture. Large stone columns stood
at the entrance of the steps that led down into the city. Slowly, he moved
forward, not so much walking of his own cognizance, but more being drawn into
the otherworldly sight before him.

The
intricacies of the stonework were remarkable. The shapes of snakes, birds,
leopards, and other creatures seemed to be leaping out from the facades of the
buildings. As he walked, the creatures appeared as if alive, their eyes
following his every move. It suddenly dawned on him that he could see the
detail so clearly because the cavern was so well lit. Randall’s eyes darted
upward toward the ceiling, which was glowing with what appeared to be a small
sun. The orb shined so brightly he had to divert his eyes. His mind struggled
to comprehend what his senses were experiencing.

Randall
shook his head in disbelief. Slowly the sense of disbelief gave way to a
feeling of awe and loneliness. Randall wished that Sam could be with him to
experience the moment, but he was alone in the vastness of this subterranean
world. The professor was shocked back to reality by the feeling of a hand
touching his lower back. He jumped at the sudden contact and turned, startled,
only to find … nothing. “What in the hell…?” As his voice trailed off, his eyes
slowly moved toward the floor of the cavern, and then he saw their silhouettes.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Due to recently
increased activity from the El
Misti
volcano, a small
team of scientists had gathered to monitor the situation in anticipation of an
impending eruption. Led by Dr. Thomas
Reinsdorf
who
was
 
with
the
United States Geological Survey Volcano Hazards Team, a part of the Volcano
Disaster Assistance Program (VDAP), the group grimly assessed the situation,
realizing that an enormous eruption was, at most, only days away.

The
VDAP team had been formed in cooperation with the Office of U.S. Foreign
Disaster Assistance (OFDA) of the U.S. Agency of International Development
(USAID) following the 1985 eruption of
Nevado
Del
Ruiz volcano in Colombia, in which over 23,000 people lost their lives. At the
request of host countries, and working through OFDA, VDAP scientists quickly
determined the nature of volcanic unrest and assessed its possible
consequences.

Trying
to prevent a similar loss of life, Dr.
Reinsdorf
found himself working along side his counterparts of Peru’s Geophysical
Institute, reviewing the data from the seismometers and other monitoring
equipment located in, and around, the volcano. A large, barrel-chested man who
stood six-five, most people who met Dr.
Reinsdorf
said he reminded them more of a football player than a scientist. His
associates, not wanting to miss a chance to needle the good-natured
volcanologist, had lovingly nicknamed him The Linebacker.

Today,
however, Tom sported a serious look on his face as he reviewed the seismic wave
patterns picked up by his sensors. The data was disturbing, and what was taking
place under the surface of El
Misti
was becoming very
clear. The underground region he and his team were monitoring was becoming more
active. Earthquake activity beneath a volcano almost always increases before an
eruption, because magma and volcanic gas must first force their way up through
shallow underground fractures and passageways. When magma and volcanic gases or
fluids move, they cause rocks to break and vibrate. When rocks break, they
trigger high frequency earthquakes, which tend to occur in swarms consisting of
dozens to hundreds of events.

El
Misti
was following this pattern. Of course, this
wouldn’t be the only data he and his team reviewed, however. Other scientists
were also monitoring data that included gas, ground deformation and satellite
imagery to assess if magma was moving toward the surface. Tom was fairly
certain what the total data package would tell them, but he would wait for his
team to report back to him before taking action.

Making
matters worse, El
Misti
was dangerously close to
Arequipa, the second most populous city in Peru, with over 844,000 inhabitants.
Given that El
Misti
was a
stratovolcano
that had last erupted sometime in the late 1400s, Tom’s concern was well
justified.
Stratovolcanoes
are sometimes called
"composite volcanoes" because of their layered structure built up
from sequential outpourings of eruptive materials. The creation of these hard
layers of rock lends itself to the deadly nature of the eruptions of such
volcanoes as the layers create a hardened shell allowing the build-up of
tremendous pressure. As a result, when
stratovolcanoes
have erupted in the past, they have historically resulted in thousands of
deaths. Two famous examples were the eruptions of Krakatoa and Vesuvius.
Krakatoa was best known for its catastrophic eruption in 1883, which resulted
in over thirty-six thousand deaths, and the near destruction of its namesake
island. In comparison, Vesuvius, of course, was famous for its destruction of
the towns of Pompeii and Herculaneum in 79 A.D. In the case of Vesuvius, an
estimated sixteen thousand people died due to hydrothermal pyroclastic flows.
If El
Misti
were to erupt, it would make the
destruction caused by these two
volcanos
pale in
comparison.

Worst
of all, there were many different ways the deaths would occur. When most people
think of volcanic eruptions, they think of hot lava spilling down the side of a
mountain, engulfing anything in its path. They also think of large chunks of
heated rock falling from the sky, crushing anything nearby. While these
horrifying outcomes are in fact accurate, they are only part of the picture.
While lava flows are certainly devastating to any structures in their path,
they are typically too slow to overtake people or animals. The true danger to
the unfortunate souls near an eruption site would be from pyroclastic flows.
These hellish mixtures of hot gas and ash can travel very quickly down the
slopes of volcanoes. They are so hot and choking that being caught in one means
certain death. Traveling at speeds of 100 to 200 kilometers per hour,
out-running a pyroclastic flow is not an option. If a volcano that is known for
producing them is looking like it may erupt soon, the only option is to leave
before it does.

Tom
realized that there were other dangers posed by El
Misti
.
He knew that atmospheric conditions might carry ash or lahars, a type of debris
flow, directly to a nearby city. Under these conditions, the death and
destruction could be even more severe. Entire cities could be covered under ash
and rock, causing the residents to choke, burn or smother in the deadly
cocktail of debris. After checking the latest weather reports, Tom confirmed
that the
worst case
scenario conditions were
developing.

Making
matters worse, Tom also realized that ash from El
Misti
could also wreak havoc on aircraft anywhere in the vicinity. With modern
aircraft engines operating at temperatures that are high enough to melt any ash
that is ingested, essentially tiny blobs of lava would be created inside the
engine. These blobs would then be forced back into other parts of the engine
where the temperatures are lower. At that time, the molten lava would solidify
on the turbine blades, blocking airflow and causing the engine to stall. This
likelihood, along with the probability that pyroclastic and lava flows could
render roads unusable, would further complicate rescue efforts.

As
all of these scenarios swirled around in Tom’s head, part of him wished that
someone else could be the responsible party on this rodeo. Of course, this
wasn’t the kind of information Tom would make public, as it wouldn’t exactly
inspire confidence in the troops. Years of experience successfully monitoring
other
volcanos
and coordinating evacuation plans
meant he was clearly the best-suited person to lead the VDAP team, hence his
appointment to the position.

Tom
was called back to reality at the voice of his assistant Keith Peterson.

“Tom,
the satellite imagery is in.”

“Thanks,
Keith. Call the team together and let’s have a look in the conference room in
ten minutes.”

“Sounds
good. I’ll get the crew together.”

Tom
walked to the conference room, running down the list of actions they would
take, based on the data they had received regarding El
Misti
.
If the signs were right, his team would make emergency plan recommendations to
protect the citizens in and around Arequipa.

His
team would be responsible for the various elements of the plan, including
evacuations. It would be a huge undertaking to develop and implement the
strategy, but of course a great deal of the responsibility would fall upon
local emergency response personnel and local elected leaders.

Tom
walked into the conference room and was happy to find his team assembled and
ready.

“All
right, bring up the feed, Keith.”

Keith
Peterson brought up the satellite imagery on the monitor and began to switch
between the various images.

“The
first image was taken a week ago, and you can see the deformation beginning to
take place in the lower quadrant of the frame. The next image was taken
yesterday, and you can see that the deformation has increased substantially,
which would correspond to magma build-up in, and around, El
Misti
.”

“Theresa,
what are the gas monitors telling us?” Tom asked Theresa
Gonsalves
,
a local engineer with the IGP.

“The
sensors are showing that the volume of gas is increasing, which corresponds
with the other data we’re receiving. It looks like the indicators are all
there.”

“Unfortunately,
I agree,” Tom said. “Unless this magma build-up suddenly finds a place to
dissipate, it looks like we have a dangerous situation developing here.
Theresa, we need you make the arrangements for us to meet with local civil
defense authorities, so we can start the emergency planning process. Keith,
contact the regional office to get our logistics staff out here as soon as we
can. I want a rough outline of a plan put together in the next seventy-two
hours. Let’s get moving people, we have a lot of work to do.”