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up the flat of his hand to stop Brady from speaking. “California is one of the most powerful governmental entities on earth. We’re rich beyond measure. Forty million industrious residents, the epicenter for computer technology, a great education infrastructure, world-class wine industry, a fertile breadbasket, entertainment capital of the world, renowned national monuments and parks, and terrific weather. We lead the nation and the world in protecting our environment, species, wilderness, parks, and climate. Our governor has made a career out of saving the planet. We’re nature’s friend, the good guys. And now this. Laid low by Mother Nature. Of all people, how could she do this to us?”

“Despite her appellation, Mother Nature is impersonal,” Ashley said a bit self-righteously. “She cannot discern good intentions. She will just do whatever she’s going to do … and right now she is hitting California with a colossal tempest … a temper tantrum if you will. This is not new. She does this every one hundred to two hundred years.” He turned to Brady. “It’s how the planet works.”

Before Brady could respond, Wilson added, “Douglas Adams said, ‘You can’t fix the weather—you just have to get on with it.’ I suggest we put aside our political posturing and get to work.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” Gleason asked.

“To start with, I believe you have an appointment with the governor.”

Chapter 39

While Evarts ate his fast-food lunch, he wrote some notes and bookmarked several websites in his browser. He suspected that a MOAB bomb probably couldn’t do the job. The bomb dropped on Nagasaki had twenty-one kilotons of explosive power, which was small compared to current strategic nuclear weapons. On the other hand, a MOAB had the power of only eleven tons of TNT, far from even a single kiloton. The bomb used on Nagasaki was roughly two thousand times more powerful than a MOAB. Of course, multiple MOABs could be used in combination with bunker busters, but he had no grasp of how much earth that could move.

All of which drove him to look at tactical nuclear weapons. The latest tactical bombs, designed for minimal fallout, could carry yields that ranged from a single kiloton to three hundred kilotons, and they were earth-penetrating warheads that buried most of the reduced radiation underground. Basically, they were gargantuan bunker busters. Evarts had a general understanding of nuclear versus conventional weapons. What had shocked him was to learn that the government had tested using nuclear weapons as earth-moving equipment.

He had been an army officer, yet he had never heard about Project Plowshare, and possessed only cursory knowledge about Edward Teller, the director and cofounder of the Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory. In the sixties and early seventies, the lab ran Project Plowshare to test the feasibility of nuclear explosions for large-scale excavation. Evarts was startled to discover that this wasn’t idle chatter by mad scientists over brews at a local pub. The geniuses at the Livermore wanted to use nuclear bombs as huge shovels. That seemed insane, but Teller had remained a staunch advocate for the concept until his death. He claimed peaceful nuclear explosions could dig or widen canals, alter coastlines to create harbors, and release natural gas through a fracking-like process. According to the Livermore Lab website, in 1962 a one-hundred-kiloton blast in Nevada displaced twelve million tons of earth, creating a crater over three hundred feet deep and over a thousand feet wide. Evarts wondered how long it would take a fleet of Caterpillars to move twelve million tons.

He looked at his watch. He had spent enough time on a flaky idea. He called the sheriff station in Santa Maria to discover that the out-of-town gang members had retreated to their home turf. Evarts gave instructions to retain the extra deputies in case their withdrawal was a ruse. He also wanted sheriff and police patrol vehicles cruising constantly to project a show of force. He then called the deputy in charge of the prisoners at the middle school to warn them that gangbangers returning to Los Angeles might stop by to assess their security. Evarts confirmed that enough heavily armed guards had arrived to ward off anything a street gang could throw at them. Next, he called Captain Standish in Lompoc, and she informed him that she had the situation under control and recovery was proceeding apace. He told her he would stop by on the way back to Santa Barbara to drop off his borrowed cruiser and pick up his truck. After a check with the Red Cross and SAR, he decided there was nothing further he could contribute in Solvang.

He headed out to his borrowed cruiser, eager to get home.

Chapter 40

Ashley seemed keen to get them someplace where they could talk privately. After they left Gleason’s temporary office, they walked to a campus food court crowded with students. They carried their drinks and food to a table in the center of the large space, with chattering students on every side. The din gave them more privacy than a closed room, and Baldwin could get a decent cup of coffee and a yogurt parfait.

“What’s got you so excited?” Smith asked.

“We can do it. We can carve a channel to the Pacific Ocean through Pacheco Pass.”

“Carve, like with a blade,” Smith teased.

“No, blast a path with nuclear bombs.”

Baldwin couldn’t believe what she had just heard. “Jon, we’re never going to drop a nuclear bomb on US soil. That’s crazy.”

“Crazy? How many nuclear bombs have been detonated worldwide?”

“Who cares?” Baldwin said. “We’re not going to drop another one.”

“Two thousand, fifty-three nuclear explosions. A thousand, thirty-two by the United States. Granted most were underground, especially in the later years, but over two hundred were atmospheric blasts. In 1963—”

Baldwin stood. “I’m done. I’m not going to discuss this. I want to enjoy my coffee and food, and you’re ruining my appetite.”

“Did you believe what Tom said in the LG’s office?” Ashley asked. “About the fate of California?”

She thought. “Yes, and I gave

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