week.”
“So what happens when it hits shore?” David asked.
Again, Osborn raised his forearm vertical. “The bottom of the wave strikes the shallow seafloor. This does two things. First, it slows the bottom of the wave.” He tilted his arm so that his palm moved forward while his elbow remained fixed. “This slows the wave considerably. Instead of racing through the ocean at several hundred miles an hour, it slows to freeway speeds. Second, the wave, which has been hidden below the surface, now begins to rise. By the time it hits land it can be between fifteen feet and two hundred feet in height.”
There was silence. David tried to imagine a wall of water two hundred feet tall. His mind flashed back to yesterday’s beach trip with Timmy. He could see Timmy frolicking in the surf. In his mind one of those waves rose high above the beach before crashing down like the collapsing wall of a brick building. The vision made David shudder.
The phone next to David rang. It was his administrative aide, Ava. “Yes. Thanks, Ava.” David hung up the phone and picked up a remote that was near the head of the table. He pointed it at the large screen and pressed a button. The blank screen was replaced with the live image of a middle-aged man in a suit seated behind a news desk. They were seeing a CNN newscast. David turned up the volume.
“… undetermined number of dead and leaving tens of thousands homeless. This highly populated coast was devastated by the first tsunami and suffered even more damage with the second …”
David shot a puzzled look at Osborn. “Two waves?”
“I’ll explain in a minute.”
The anchorman continued, “… reports are being received from the East Coast of India to the West Coast of Burma. Hardest hit was the low-lying region of Bangladesh. Scientists are stating that this may be one of the largest tsunamis on record. The video footage you are about to see was taken by a tourist flying over the wave just before it struck shore. The tourist, Julius Higgins, and his wife were vacationing in India and had been on a return flight from the Andaman Islands aboard a small charter plane.”
The image of the anchorman was replaced by the uneven video picture of open ocean. The muted voices of the travelers could be heard. The picture was startling: A white band of churning water was moving quickly across the blue ocean surface.
“Amazing,” David said.
The conference room was plunged into silence as the dramatic image unfolded. Even from the air, the growing size of the wave could be appreciated. The band of white became a swollen, green wall of water. The camera had stayed fixed on the enigma as it crashed on shore. Ocean spray shot skyward, and buildings twisted unnaturally until they fell in chunks into the boiling flood. Cars tumbled, and debris, propelled by the immeasurable force of the wave, shot through the air like shrapnel from a bomb. Minutes later the inundation began to withdraw to the sea in deadly swirls and eddies of flotsam and bodies. The flooded streets emptied as if a giant plug had been pulled somewhere offshore. So rapid was the watery withdrawal that floating debris whipped around like the blades of a blender. The retraction of the surge was as hideous as its advance.
The anchorman reappeared on the screen. He lookedshell-shocked. “As you can see, great destruction was left in the wake of the wave. Early reports state that Cox’s Bazar, a resort community in Bangladesh, was destroyed utterly. We will have more on this as new information is made available.”
David clicked off the screen and, like the others, sat in stunned silence. Osborn was the first to speak.
“I have made the study of catastrophe my life’s work, but I have never seen anything like that.”
“How extensive is the damage?” David asked.
“Too early to tell,” Osborn answered. “It will be a few more hours before we know with any certainty.”
“What’s this about a second
“So what happens when it hits shore?” David asked.
Again, Osborn raised his forearm vertical. “The bottom of the wave strikes the shallow seafloor. This does two things. First, it slows the bottom of the wave.” He tilted his arm so that his palm moved forward while his elbow remained fixed. “This slows the wave considerably. Instead of racing through the ocean at several hundred miles an hour, it slows to freeway speeds. Second, the wave, which has been hidden below the surface, now begins to rise. By the time it hits land it can be between fifteen feet and two hundred feet in height.”
There was silence. David tried to imagine a wall of water two hundred feet tall. His mind flashed back to yesterday’s beach trip with Timmy. He could see Timmy frolicking in the surf. In his mind one of those waves rose high above the beach before crashing down like the collapsing wall of a brick building. The vision made David shudder.
The phone next to David rang. It was his administrative aide, Ava. “Yes. Thanks, Ava.” David hung up the phone and picked up a remote that was near the head of the table. He pointed it at the large screen and pressed a button. The blank screen was replaced with the live image of a middle-aged man in a suit seated behind a news desk. They were seeing a CNN newscast. David turned up the volume.
“… undetermined number of dead and leaving tens of thousands homeless. This highly populated coast was devastated by the first tsunami and suffered even more damage with the second …”
David shot a puzzled look at Osborn. “Two waves?”
“I’ll explain in a minute.”
The anchorman continued, “… reports are being received from the East Coast of India to the West Coast of Burma. Hardest hit was the low-lying region of Bangladesh. Scientists are stating that this may be one of the largest tsunamis on record. The video footage you are about to see was taken by a tourist flying over the wave just before it struck shore. The tourist, Julius Higgins, and his wife were vacationing in India and had been on a return flight from the Andaman Islands aboard a small charter plane.”
The image of the anchorman was replaced by the uneven video picture of open ocean. The muted voices of the travelers could be heard. The picture was startling: A white band of churning water was moving quickly across the blue ocean surface.
“Amazing,” David said.
The conference room was plunged into silence as the dramatic image unfolded. Even from the air, the growing size of the wave could be appreciated. The band of white became a swollen, green wall of water. The camera had stayed fixed on the enigma as it crashed on shore. Ocean spray shot skyward, and buildings twisted unnaturally until they fell in chunks into the boiling flood. Cars tumbled, and debris, propelled by the immeasurable force of the wave, shot through the air like shrapnel from a bomb. Minutes later the inundation began to withdraw to the sea in deadly swirls and eddies of flotsam and bodies. The flooded streets emptied as if a giant plug had been pulled somewhere offshore. So rapid was the watery withdrawal that floating debris whipped around like the blades of a blender. The retraction of the surge was as hideous as its advance.
The anchorman reappeared on the screen. He lookedshell-shocked. “As you can see, great destruction was left in the wake of the wave. Early reports state that Cox’s Bazar, a resort community in Bangladesh, was destroyed utterly. We will have more on this as new information is made available.”
David clicked off the screen and, like the others, sat in stunned silence. Osborn was the first to speak.
“I have made the study of catastrophe my life’s work, but I have never seen anything like that.”
“How extensive is the damage?” David asked.
“Too early to tell,” Osborn answered. “It will be a few more hours before we know with any certainty.”
“What’s this about a second
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