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to Mr. Outdoors. “You’re the vice chair. Let’s get on with this and get out of here.”

A short staring contest ensued, but Mr. Outdoors finally shrugged and picked up the list to examine it. “Any suggestions on how to start?”

“Size of population in the flood path?” someone offered.

“Sounds good to me. Let’s get introductions done quickly. Name, institution, and title. That’s all for now. We need to get to work.”

Tom’s full name was Tom Smith. Mentioning his two PhDs, he explained that he headed the Caltech seismic department. Despite his admonition to keep it short, he also got in that he climbed mountains for a hobby, so he knew how to judge inclement weather. The rest of the members held equally impressive credentials. They worked for construction outfits, governments, engineering firms, and universities. Smith divided them into teams of two and distributed a portion of the list to each team. Laptops flipped open and heads huddled together in quiet conversation. She was thankfully teamed with Smith, while Ashley got assigned to work with Wilson. Surprisingly, Ashley seemed to immediately connect with her.

As Baldwin typed a query into Google, Smith said, “Damn!”

“Excuse me,” she said, confused.

“Just noticed your wedding ring.”

“You noticed it as soon as I entered the room.” She had guessed, but his expression told her she was right. “Now, you’re assessing whether it means anything. It does. And, for your information, my husband carries a gun.”

“Cop, felon, or insecure macho type?”

“Not pertinent. Let’s get to work.”

They did. He made no additional attempts to hit on her. Within an hour, they had their list. When the other teams finished, they compared results and quickly whittled the lists down to Shasta, Calaveras, Anderson, Big Tujunga, and Castaic.

Smith efficiently summarized their analysis. Due to recent rain, all the reservoirs were filled to a greater capacity than normal. The city of Redding, with nearly one hundred thousand residents, sat nine miles below Shasta Dam, which held back the largest reservoir in California. Next to San Francisco Bay, three hundred thousand people lived in the flood path of the Calaveras Dam. A replacement for the ninety-year-old dam had been plagued with schedule and cost overruns. Anderson, near San Jose, had had a spill in 2017 that flooded hundreds of homes. Sixty thousand people lived beneath the Big Tujunga Dam near Los Angeles. The beleaguered reservoir was purposely kept below capacity, but recent rains had filled it beyond the designated safe level. Castaic sat above the Santa Clara River Valley, the same valley victimized by the Saint Francis Dam disaster of 1928. If a repeat occurred, it would be far worse. Several hundred thousand people now lived in Piru, Fillmore, Santa Paula, and Oxnard.

They drew up emergency actions for each of the five. Beyond a needless recommendation that first responders refresh their knowledge of established emergency plans, the team made a few suggestions that would cost too much or take too much time. Baldwin believed the exercise had been pointless.

“Okay,” Smith said. “It’s only ten thirty, and I believe our work is complete. Can I get a motion to adjourn?”

“May I suggest another avenue of inquiry?” Ashley said.

If Smith had had a gavel, he probably would have ignored the lack of a motion and banged the meeting to an end. Instead, he threw an open palm at Ashley, giving him permission to speak.

Ashley continued. “Granted, dams present an obvious risk, but the storm that will hit us in a few days will cause untold damage and death. We should look at the potential for another great flood. On the drive here, we had to detour around a washed-out section of I-5 that extended for a quarter mile. Nearly a half dozen cars were carried away with the concrete highway. Dozens may have been killed. No dams broke, just rainfall flowing down low hills.”

Wilson, of the US Geological Survey, said, “I concur. If this atmospheric river hits us, the already saturated ground will shed water like a duck’s back. Where will the water go? We’ve looked at man-made dams, but mountains, hills, and valleys can also channel water toward population areas.”

Baldwin sat in wonderment. Ashley had an ally.

“Excuse me,” someone said from the other end of the table. “This is the Seismic Safety Commission. We’re already far outside our charter. For heaven’s sake, I’m sure others are considering the threat from storm clouds.”

“Who?” Wilson asked.

Nobody answered.

“Atmospheric rivers are powerful storms that originate in the tropical Pacific Ocean,” Ashley said. “They cause horrible floods across the globe. These mile-high bands of water extend for thousands of—”

The same voice interrupted. “That may very well be true, but it is not the business of this commission.”

“We’re here,” Wilson said. “Right now. We can provide disaster guidance to the governor. Why can’t we spend a little time examining the biggest risk the state may face?”

“You may … but without me.” The man slammed his papers together and stormed out of the room.

Everyone, including Wilson, looked at Smith.

“All right, anyone who wants to leave may leave, and anyone who wants to stay may discuss this atmospheric river thing. I’m going to run our analysis over to the capitol. I’ll return shortly. In truth, this subject has begun to fascinate me.”

Baldwin would have felt better if he hadn’t looked directly at her as he spoke. All her life, she had deflected unwanted advances, but it seemed weird that two men were after her at the same time. Was there something in the air besides water? Did calamity and danger rev the libido? She glanced at Ashley, doubting that anything ever caused his metabolism to spike. Then she saw him look at Wilson. His expression made her reconsider. Ashley had moved on to other prey. It was obvious that hobnobbing in exalted circles excited him. Smith? Easier to handle. To him, she presented another rock face to climb. She sipped her coffee and resolved to remain inconspicuous.

After a few more people had departed, only a dozen remained.

Wilson continued her tutorial. “A drought afflicted

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