Rings of Fire Ch. 06

Megan shook her head and held up her hands. "Mum, I don't need volcanology 101. Both my parents are geologists...volcanologists. I could have passed 101 before I could even read. Divergent, subduction, eruptible melt, pyroclastic flows. I learned what those meant before I knew my ABCs."

Looking back at the screens, they both watched as the newscaster made comparisons with previous eruptions; 2010 in Eyjafjallajökull and the 1973 eruption of Eldfell volcano that saw man's greatest triumph over the tremendous power of Mother Nature with their massive lava-cooling operations on the island of Heimaey.

But it was the 1783 and 1784 eruptions at Skaftáreldar, the worst in the history of the island nation that seemed most appropriate. An eruption that saw the death of over half of the livestock and a quarter of the country's people.

The effects of that eruption extended far beyond just the tiny nation. Contemporary reports that volcanologists had studied suggested that its effects reached most of Europe and parts of North America. An outpouring of gases, hydrogen fluoride and sulfur dioxide, that gave rise to what had since become known as the "Laki haze" across Europe, resulting in thousands of deaths from respiratory failure, especially among the elderly, the sick, and small children.

The meteorological impact of Laki, as it was called by most, contributed significantly to several years of extreme weather in Europe. In France, a sequence of extremes including droughts, bad winters, and a violent hailstorm in 1788 that destroyed crops, resulted in a build-up of poverty and famine that may have been a catalyst for the French Revolution in 1789.

In North America, it resulted in the longest and coldest winter in history. Some scientists even thought that the eruption contributed to weakened African and Indian monsoon circulations that saw widespread famine across those regions. Perhaps the eruption extended its menacing hand halfway around the globe, exacerbating the Tenmei famine in Japan.

Lauren shook her head as the facts raced through her head. No one was arguing with Brent that volcanic eruptions could have cataclysmic and relatively long-lasting impacts upon the fragile weather systems on this small planet on which humans lived. That was proven over and over again as scientists studied the patterns of volcanic eruptions, but the idea that man-made greenhouse gases, the same gases naturally produced by eruptions, could work in reverse to trigger eruptions...that was a leap that Lauren was too grounded in fact to make.

Watching the explosion of gray smoke and lightning swirl about the white-topped mountain peaks, she admitted that the next couple of years might not be easy ones across the world. She even pondered the effect that those gases might have upon Elise's already fragile health. But she simply did not buy Brent's snake oil...she could not.

Forcing her eyes from the screen, she willed herself to smile at her daughter. "You said something about dinner?"

Megan nodded as she hit a button on the remote, blanketing the building in nothing but the dim glow of backup lighting, and the whir of mainframes chewing and spitting out data and calculations.

***

Brent tucked Elise in for the night. Even though it was spring already, it was still cold enough at night in the desert for her weighted blanket. He knew that it offered her some comfort, the pressure providing the deep touch that she eschewed from hugs. He guiltily bent and stole a light kiss on the top of her head. But even that caused her to rouse a bit.

It had taken her almost an hour of tossing and turning before she finally exhausted herself out. Sometimes he wondered what was going through her little mind. What did she think about that kept her so preoccupied? But something was happening in her mind, something that was likely so brilliant that it eclipsed his, Lauren's, and Megan's, of that he had no doubt.

It was another of the multitudes of things upon which he and Lauren did not agree. It was, in fact, the only one upon which they had been unable to find common ground. The one that had become so embittered that there was no way forward for them. The one that had torn them apart as surely as continental drift. But what Brent was counting on was that continental drift worked both ways. The same forces that tore them apart could pull them back together.

And if the very fact that Lauren had gotten willingly, if reluctantly, upon the plane was not enough to fuel the embers of hope that had never died in him, then this morning's romp in the desert was. He tried to keep those hopes under control. After all, Brent had never for a single moment believed that Lauren would go through with the divorce. He had dragged the whole thing out for over a year through mediation and counseling. He had fought her every step of the way.

But she had. Seven years later and that still hurt him worse than anything ever had. Not his father's disappointment in him. Nor his mother's years buried in the bottle and addiction to prescription drugs that had ultimately taken her life during his Freshmen year in college. Not even the sibling rivalry that he had never been able to bridge with his baby brother.

The only thing that came even close was missing his girls. He looked over at the double bed, which filled most of the tiny space. Megan still had her head buried in her phone, messaging friends back in England, who were waking and getting ready for school.

He smiled at how much like her mother, their oldest daughter looked. It was like stepping back in time a quarter of a century. His throat tightened just at the thought of how beautiful Lauren had been the summer he first noticed her as more than a pesky little brat that was always challenging every theory he had.

"Time for bed, kiddo," he said.

Megan smiled at him, "So, where is Mom sleeping if Elise is here with me?"

He laughed at her playfully teasing, "My bed. And before you get any ideas, I am taking the couch."

"Aww, Dad, where's the fun in that? I mean I just figured after this morning..."

He frowned, he had been confident that their eldest would be capable of managing the situation. But the hope he heard ringing in her voice reminded him of Lauren's conditions. "Your mother and I had some things to discuss that was all."

"Oh, come on. I am not Elise, Daddy. You and Mom only have two speeds: drag out fights and too hot to handle. You think I don't remember the kisses and the way you could barely keep your hands off one another."

"Gees, I knew Mum could be a total prude, but I did not realize you had turned into one too since the divorce," she accused as she sat the phone on the shelf next to her bed.

"Especially since Mum was sporting a hellacious hickie at lunch today," she teased.

Brent knew that it was useless to deny their junior scientist's observational skills, "Just don't go getting your hopes up, kiddo as your Mom keeps reminding me, one week. And that is down to six days now."

Megan frowned, "You aren't going to hold to that, are you, Dad? I mean if... Well, if you are right, I don't want us all to be separated — different countries. Different continents even. And an ocean apart."

Brent heard the anxiety rising in his daughter's voice. He bent and kissed the top of her head. "I'm gonna do everything I can, kiddo. You have my word on that," he tried to reassure her.

"You could always just tie her up, you know."

He frowned at just how close Megan was to his earlier assessment of the situation, "Go to sleep. You know that we get up early around here."

"Good night, Dad," she said as she turned back over.

"Night, sweetie," he said as he crossed the room and turned off the energy efficient light on the wall between his daughters' bed.

"Just give it some thought, Dad," she teased as he closed the door.

The communal area was empty, and he was sure that Lauren would not be waiting naked in his bed as much as he might like the idea. He sighed, perhaps she had gone to check on Grandmam and Katie, but they had gone home an hour ago. She might have gone back to the command center though, have another go at the program.

He opened the sliding glass door to find the one thing he sought. What he had been missing for too damned long. The woman of his dreams. The only one that fit the bill. He inhaled and could almost smell her sweetness in the crisp desert air. Lauren Masters was as beautiful now as she had been all those years ago. More beautiful, in fact. A sight for sore eyes as Jason would say.

***

Lauren stood on the front porch of the tiny container building that was to be her home for the next week. Dinner had been simple and quiet. As Megan promised, her grandmother had turned the leftover beef and bits of potato into a creamy English pie complete with fluffy, layered crusts. It seemed that even the end of the world could not put a dent into her ex-husband's appetite as he demolished a third of the pie all by himself. She, Grandmam, Katie and her daughters made quick work of the rest.

Little had been said of the events that brought them here. Instead, they had all pretended it was another family dinner, sharing updates on football, school, and soap operas. She shook her head; Brent had even remembered how much her grandmother loved her soap operas. He had told her not to worry; he would show her how to stream episodes on the laptop while she was there. The whole evening seemed surreal.

Was this whole trip just a diversion? Goodness knows, Brent had been against the divorce from the beginning. He had made numerous attempts at reconciliation, too many to count. Was this just another of those in cahoots with her grandmother and their daughter? Had she played into his hand with their wild sex among the cacti?

If the man did think that the world as they knew it was coming to an end, he certainly seemed to be rather casual about it. Sure, he had built this whole compound. But that did not necessarily have anything to do with the other. Brent had often spoken about a desire to get away from the pressures of modern life, to get back to nature and live more sustainably.

Looking around her at the dozen or so other homes that made up their street in this eco-village, she realized that many of its features were straight out of the late night musings that she and Brent had shared when she was pregnant with Elise.

The pregnancy had been difficult. In addition to morning sickness that lasted well into her third trimester, Lauren suffered from excruciating heartburn that kept her up late each night. As a diversion, the young couple had taken to planning a weekend retreat for their growing family, a place away from everything, especially the demands of modern life. They had even talked about living there full-time once their careers were more established, once they both had tenure.

But Elise's birth had brought those dreams crashing down around them. From the moment that she held her new daughter, something inside of Lauren had known that things were not right. Elise had difficulty breastfeeding. She had tried everything; even the lactation consultant had proven futile. Then there was the constant crying that the doctors dismissed as colic; she would outgrow it they said.

Over the coming months, she never did. Each loud noise, bright light, and sometimes even Lauren's touch sent the baby screeching and screaming. Lauren worried that the neighbors in their block of flats would call the police, accuse them of abusing their child. As her baby missed milestone after milestone, the doctors finally listened to her mother's instinct. Referrals poured in, one specialist after another, medical tests and evaluations became their life.

It had taken close to a year for a diagnosis, and even then, the doctors had not agreed. Then the fights had begun. Battles that took on new meaning as she and Brent disagreed on the most important thing of all, how to best help their child. As always, the battle lines were drawn. She and accepted science on one side versus Brent and...

Warm hands caressed her arms. She had not realized until that moment how chilly the night air had become. But the heat rising from the familiar and assured touch was in stark contrast to the cold darkness that surrounded them.

"I was just coming to look for you, darlin'," his deep whisper caressed her ear.

"Are the girls asleep?" Lauren tried to refocus the conversation. Being alone with this man was the last thing she needed right then. She had come out here to think, to figure things out. Like the mainframes at his office, she needed to chew up data, run the calculations, and spit out a likely scenario of events based upon probabilities and accepted scientific theory.

The problem was...when she was around Brent Jacobs, she had never been able to think. His hands moved lightly up and down her arms. Hairs stood on end. The goose flesh had little to do with the chilly desert night and everything to do with this man. The way he made her feel. Because when it came to Brent Jacobs that was all she did: feel.

"Brent, we need to talk." Did her voice sound as needy and breathless as it did ringing in her ears?

"Talk, Lauren," he said as he stepped closer, wrapping his strong arms about her, enveloping her in warmth. The heat of his body overpowered her.

"Brent, we can't keep doing this," she whispered into the night air.

"Doing what, sweetheart?" His hands began to caress her once more. "Can't keep loving each other?" he whispered. His mouth was against the sensitive flesh of her ear. His words breathed like a prayer into them.

Lauren felt her resolve melt under the power of it. His breath was hot, burning her skin like a pyroclastic flow rushing down the side of a mountain, taking with it houses, trees, plants, and animals, all life.

"Brent," she whimpered even as her body leaned into his embrace.

His tongue lapped gently at her ear lobe, tracing its lines slowly. His hands continued the slow up and down caress of her arms. How could arms and ears be such erogenous zones?

Her whole body strummed with bent up sexual energy. Her breasts felt uncomfortably heavy as they strained against the silky confines of her lace bra. Wetness flooded the matching panties, moving like lava through the crevices, collecting and pooling, awaiting an eruption, building like magma beneath the surface until it reached the tipping point, exploding forth with power and beauty.

She cursed her body and its never-ending need for this man. "Damn it, Brent. You know we can't do this here. Anyone could see us," she protested.

He chuckled into the softness of her flaming red hair. "Isn't that part of the fun? Knowing how exposed we are. Wondering who might be watching us." His hands trailed softly across her shoulders, down her collar bone, until they hovered just above the painfully engorged globes of her full breasts.

"It's not like we are doing anything naughty," he pronounced. "Two lovers wrapped in one another arms. Enjoying the night, nothing more," he taunted.

"God damn it, Brent," Lauren cursed the power that he held over her. She knew that she should kick him in the shin, or someplace a far sight more painful. She should run inside, slip into the double bed that she was sharing with Megan.

But it was his bed that held her imagination. His bed...in his bedroom, ...in his house. And Lauren knew that despite jet lag if she did that, she could not sleep. She would lie in that bed all night long, next to the daughter that their lovemaking had created. Her mind would play like some bad soft-core porn, images of the things that they had done — the things they could be doing.

"I hate you," she spat at the futility of it all as she pulled away from his embrace. Stealing her nerves for a night of torment, she turned towards the door.

He smiled down at her. His blue eyes danced with mirth. Mirth that she did not share at the moment. She raised her hand to slap the look from his smug face, but he captured it. His gaze locked on her face, he turned her hand and drew it towards his lips. He placed a soft kiss in the palm of her hand.

"There's an empty cabin next door, sweetheart. Care to join me?"

War raged in Lauren's brain. Logic told her that despite her boasts earlier of a week of wild fucking that would burn this fire out forever; she was in real danger here. Not even the fiberglass suits that they used for sampling lava could withstand the heat that she and Brent generated when they made love.

She should call it all off...now. Demand that he take her back home, back to the ivory towers of academia, back to scientific theory, back to safety.

But something more primal rose in her too. Something that pleaded and demanded that she sample this man and the feelings he brought forth in her. Begged her to surrender to the heat and fire that they created.

One week, her mind reasoned. One week to walk on the edges of this sleeping giant that bellowed and boomed, huffed and spewed with heat, fire, and energy that was more than sufficient to destroy everything in its path.

Of course, the trick would be not getting burned. And Lauren Masters recognized that would not be easy. Brent's presence was enough to melt her insides. His casual touch could singe her soul. And the eruptions their bodies caused when they came together were definitely a VEI 8...a super-eruption.

Despite their destructive and deadly potential, few volcanologists could resist the beauty and power of an eruption. And while scientific logic might argue against it, many secretly prayed for the once in a thousand lifetimes chance to witness such an event.

Lauren was no different. She was as addicted to the beauty and power of eruptions as the rest of them. Her scientific mind be damned. She too wanted to taste the power of thousand-degree rocks, gases, and ash propelled forth at hundreds of miles per hour. She wanted the lightning and thunder. She wanted it all.

And the only person that had ever been able to give her that was here, right now. A mere step away. Offering it all to her. Those blue eyes begged her to take the chance one more time.

"What about Elise? What if she wakes up?" Lauren reasoned. Looking for an excuse, a reason to choose safety.

Brent smiled as he pulled a monitor out of his back pocket. "Got these last summer when the girls visited for that very reason."

Lauren hated that boyish grin that meant he had thought of everything. It had always infuriated her. But at that moment, she was in no mood to argue. Her body still strummed with harmonic tremors that science recognized as a predictor of eruptions, molten lava moving slowly upward through those crevices towards the surface, pushing aside everything in their path. All reason fled.

"One week," she pronounced. Was the reminder of their deal for Brent or her, she wondered as she took his hand and rushed the few steps to the small house next door.