Page 26 of Eruption

The old man raised his eyes slowly, as if it took all the strength he had.

“How are you, sir?” Mac asked.

Almost imperceptibly, Bennett shook his head. His gaze dropped down to the floor again.

“Do you recognize him?” Jepson asked.

“No,” Mac said, terse. He was damp from the rain and tired from the flight and from trying to contain his annoyance at being brought to a room to see someone who was barely here himself.

Maybe Jepson sensed his annoyance, because he backed off.

“Well, Colonel Briggs is on his way in now. Let’s see how General Bennett reacts to this.”

“To what?”

“The eleven o’clock news.” Jepson crossed the room to the television and turned up the volume. “Let’s see if it happens again.”

There was a musical fanfare, then an excited voice announcing theEyewitness Newsteam, all news all the time. MacGregor saw three newscasters at a curved table with a backdrop of Honolulu skyscrapers.

General Bennett remained motionless, his head drooping. Mac thought he might be asleep. Perhaps permanently.

“Tonight’s top stories: The governor says no tax cut this year. Another woman is found murdered in Waikiki. Restaurant workers will not strike after all. And on the Big Island, reports of an impending eruption from the volcano Mauna Loa.”

At last, General Bennett stirred. His right hand moved restlessly in the direction of the IV line.

Major Jepson said, “There it is.”

There what is?Mac thought.Proof of life?

Mac saw his own picture flash up behind the newscasters. One of them said that Dr. John MacGregor, the chief volcanologist at Kilauea, had held a news conference confirming the impending eruption of the volcano. As he continued, the general became more agitated. His arm moved in erratic jerks across the starched bedsheet.

“Maybe he recognizes you,” Jepson said.

“Or maybe he’s just processing the news,” Mac said.

He was vaguely aware of the newscaster saying that scientists were predicting a new eruption in the next few days, but it was expected to take place on the uninhabited north slope, and there was no risk to any residents of the Big Island.

General Bennett gave a low moan, and his hand moved again, as if he were frantic to get the attention of the man delivering the news.

“The strange thing is,” Jepson said, “he always moans at exactly the same point—whenever a reporter says there’s no risk to local residents from the eruption.” He turned back to General Bennett. “You want to write, General?”

A nurse who’d just come in lifted the general’s left hand from the bedside table and slipped a sheet of paper under it. She put his hand back on the paper, placed a pencil in his hand, and closed his fingers around it.

“There he goes,” Jepson said, nodding. “First letter is always anI…”

The nurse held the paper down. Slowly, the frail, elderly man scrawled.

“ThenC… E…”

MacGregor got closer to the bed, but the writing was difficult to make out.

Jepson frowned. “It’s a little different this time…I-C-E-T-O-B-B.”

MacGregor, frowning himself, said, “Wait—is that anOor aU?”

“Hard to say.”

The general seemed to be listening. He drew a large semicircle, running his pencil over it again and again.

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