Nobody moved.
“All right then, that’s the last of it. We all have a past. Mine just happens to have originated here.”
Asher peered at Destiny. “This man needs to go. Now. Banish him before he gets us all killed.”
Destiny looked at Lipton.
Lipton’s face looked numb when he said, “You might want to rethink that, Destiny or Hope or whatever the hell your name really is. Especially the part about taking directions from a wannabe engineer who finished in the middle of the pack at some run-of-the-mill state university. That’s why you’re all in this situation to begin with.”
“How could you possibly know that?” Destiny asked.
Lipton pointed at Asher. “Just look at him. It’s obvious. He doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing.”
“And you do?”
“Clearly.”
Destiny looked at Summer. “Help me here.”
Summer shrugged. “Sorry, sis. I’m totally lost.”
“He needs to go. Now,” Asher snapped, pointing an index finger at Lipton.
Krista stepped forward and grabbed Lipton by the shirt collar, tugging him forward. “Oh, I’m so gonna enjoy this.”
“Wait,” Lipton said. “Don’t you people want to know what’s really going on before you throw me to the wolves?”
CHAPTER 50
Destiny played hostess, remaining on her feet until the invited guests were in their seats around the conference table in Blackstone’s primary meeting room.
Flipside liked to call the room ‘the inner sanctum,’ apparently an ode to some old TV show back in the day. She didn’t understand the reference, but it really didn’t matter. If naming the room made the man happy, then so be it.
She touched a hand to the shoulder of Asher and then Flipside as she walked past them and found her seat at the head of the table.
Shotgun and Sawtooth had both protested about their lack of an invite, but she only had so much room. Someone had to wait outside, so the youngest of the crew were it.
Seated across from her were Summer, Krista, and the man they called Lipton. Nomad was there, too; however, her brother chose to stand next to the door, reminding her of a sentry ready for battle.
Destiny wished he’d let go of his sword-wielding persona for once, taking the chair she’d brought in for him. Not just because he was family, but more so because he’d earned it after all he’d been through.
She figured he needed to transition to a normal life, one not involving layers of leather armor and a suffocating mask. But he’d have to make that call, not her. All she could do was keep the offer open in case he decided he was ready for that change.
“I keep telling you, this is a monumental waste of time,” Asher said, shaking his head.
Destiny flashed a hand at her right-hand man, giving him a subtle head nod to hold his tongue. She figured it was a hollow gesture, but maybe, just maybe, he’d listen for a change.
There’s a first time for everything, she reminded herself, letting a round of levity into her heart. She knew the rest of this meeting was going to be anything but humorous, so that infinitesimal respite from the mounting stress was a welcome sensation.
“Okay, let’s hear it, Lipton,” Destiny said. “You have two minutes.”
Lipton sat back in his chair and threw up his arms. “Well, if you want the truth, it’s going to take longer than that, so you need to revise that allotment.”
“Okay, I’m a reasonable person. You have three minutes.”
Krista laughed, turning her head in Lipton’s direction. “I’d suggest you get started, asshole. You’re only prolonging the inevitable.”
“I thought I was going to get a chance to be heard?” Lipton asked Destiny.
“You are. Two minutes and 50 seconds. Tick-tock, Doc.”
Krista brought her eyes around to Asher, then put her knife on the table, and her sidearm. “If he says one thing that’s not true, let me know and I’ll end this on the spot.”
“Gladly.”
“Okay. Let’s start the beginning,” Lipton said after an obvious gulp. “Try to follow along so I don’t have to repeat myself.”
“Just get on with it, Lipton,” Krista said. “Nothing you say is going to matter anyway.”
“In 2015 there was a proposal by a group of scientists from NASA about how they thought they could relieve pressure beneath Earth’s super-volcanoes to keep them from erupting and ending all life on Earth. I think it was a three-billion-dollar proposal, or thereabouts, if memory serves.”
Krista looked at Asher.
So did Destiny, looking for confirmation.
The man never even blinked, appearing disinterested in all things Lipton.
“But I digress. Somehow, they convinced the talking heads in accounting to greenlight the money and begin work. First, though, they needed a test site and a team to lead the research.”
“And they selected you, I take it,” Summer said, breaking her silence.
“Hardly,” Lipton said. “Though they should have. No, I’m afraid they selected Destiny’s man Asher, despite his failures academically. Who in their right mind selects a person with a lowly Master’s degree in civil engineering? That should have been the world’s first clue that it was all about to end. I’m guessing he had an uncle or another relative on one of the appropriation committees. Otherwise, his name wouldn’t have made the top-1000 candidates list. Hell, the top million list.”
“Just keep it up, Lipton,” Asher said. “The hole just keeps getting deeper and deeper.”
“They brought Asher and a team here to Yellowstone, then spent countless billons on tunneling and testing equipment, which I assume is still underground somewhere, collecting dust.”
The group looked at Asher.
The man nodded, though he didn’t look happy about it. “Primary shaft. Relief section alpha.”
“That’s when the fun started,” Lipton said, taking in an extra breath. “You see, my dear people, when you have anyone less than the best tasked to play God with Mother Earth, terrible consequences happen.”
“What do you mean?” Destiny asked.
Lipton held for a beat, her statement obviously not what he expected. “I take it he didn’t tell you all of this before? Or did he spin it to mitigate responsibility?”
Destiny shook her head. “Never you mind that. Go on.”
“How’s my time?”
“Extended. Continue.”
“The plan was to drill precisely eighteen tunnels deep underground at exactly the right angle and do so in twenty-degree increments around the caldera. Then they were supposed to flood these shafts with water to help cool temperatures and vent the pressure that’s constantly building.”
“Why eighteen tunnels and not thirty or whatever?” Summer asked.
“Eighteen times twenty is three hundred and sixty degrees. As in a circle,” Nomad said from his guard position.
“My scarred friend back there is correct,” Lipton said. “They knew they needed a balanced venting of pressure; otherwise, the caldera would become unstable. And we all know what happens when pressures become unstable. They take the path of least resistance to initiate release. Precisely what they didn’t want to happen. They thought they could control both the pressure and the release, which in theory can be done. But that was about the time they fell behind schedule and their funding was up for renewal.”