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Fate, Derek’s Uncle Peter once said, is an ugly bitch. She’ll get you along one path and push you on another. Derek was five when he heard this, and his mother promptly covered his ears and began to chew out her younger brother for cursing in front of her son. Peter appeared unfazed, and walked out mid-rant to watch television. It would be seven years later that Peter’s words would echo in his head as he watched in awe the events transpiring in Japan.
Laura, a few months prior, had been on a geology kick, and enjoyed discussing (jabbering endlessly to whomsoever was unfortunate enough to be nearby) the Yellowstone supervolcano that was overdue for an eruption by nearly 30,000 years, and how the awesome, destructive power of the volcano would be enough to bury the entire Midwest of North America in a layer ash feet deep in hours as it unleashed apocalyptic hellfire. Indeed, everyone from private scientists to the United States Geological Survey kept a hawk-like watch on the overdue caldera, which is why so few were prepared for the eruption of the Aira Caldera in Japan.
The volcanic mountaintop on an island in the middle of Kagoshima Bay, so named for the major city on its shores, had been spewing ash for weeks. A survey team from the USGS was live streaming from the hills outside of the city, narrating what they believed was a standard hike in activity. Then, mid-sentence, the geologist talking was interrupted by the sudden and violent uplift of the mountain. In seconds, all of Kagoshima Bay was flying through the air, the water boiled off as temperatures reached thousands of degrees. Less than a second later, the city was rising upward, the crust peeled back in a violent explosion. As the world watched in shock and awe, the video cut to static as a few frames of city flying at the camera was the last heard from the team.
It took less than a minute for the island of Kyushu to be blown to bits. In forty five seconds, 13,230,000 people were vaporized. In five minutes, the entire Japanese archipelago was fragmented as the volcanoes along the mountainous islands simultaneously detonated. The megatsunami spawned by the eruptions had swamped the Chinese mainland only fifteen minutes later, carrying inland for hundreds of miles. In less than an hour, over a billion people were dead in the largest disaster in human history.
Chunks of the Earth’s crust miles in diameter rained hell from above, entire islands thrown into the stratosphere and brought to rest far from their origin points. With the tsunami still ten minutes away, the South Korean capital city of Seoul was wiped out by an ejecta fragment larger than the city itself. All across the East Asian coasts, down as far south Mount Pinatubo in the Philippines and Lake Toba in the Indonesian island of Sumatra, began their own catastrophic eruptions. Across the globe, from Sydney to Berlin to New York, the ground shook and the sonic boom of the eruption could be heard. The world turned to Hell in the same time frame as an episode of Spongebob.
The west coast of North America had, at most, an hour before it too was washed away by the coming waves of death. Derek parents had loaded the three children into one vehicle, and Peter had taken his own. Laura had been keen enough to notice their parents had grabbed everyone’s papers, including the insurance policy for their home, and their FDIC balance. It was this much that would ensure Derek’s future. Talia and Evan had sped to the Beacon Hills airport, where, to their relief, a large private jet was still awaiting take off. The name ‘Whittemore’ was blazoned on its rear engines, and Derek’s parents brought their car to a stop, screaming and begging to the panicked family that were themselves frantically boarding the plane.
Without looking back, the father, Mr. Whittemore, waved rapidly at them, a sign to hurry up. With everyone aboard, the jet rapidly taxied to the main runway and had a very rough takeoff. They quickly began flying east, leaving Beacon Hills with fifteen minutes to spare before it was washed away. Six hours later, as everything west of the Rockies was still submerging, they touched town in New York City, to a nightmare. The Whittemore’s private jet didn’t have a television or satellite phone, so the passengers were all left unaware of the horror show occurring on the ground.
They came back to find that an ash cloud was quickly engulfing the Earth. Nuclear winter had set in.
+
It’s the twelfth anniversary of the Aira Eruption, better known as the Day. Derek is twenty four, and all he has left is Cora. Mom and Dad died in the Great Famine that followed the onset of the Long Night, two out of 3.5 billion to do so. Peter was lost when the Winter Wars razed Brooklyn, and Laura was cut in two in an industrial accident. All that’s left of New York now is Manhattan and Staten Island. The ice age, the civil war that followed, and the mass die-offs of people took care of the rest.
He can remember those early days so clearly, so terribly. The eternal snowfall, drifts taller than all of them. More than that, he remembers watching the ash cloud carry over from the west, blotting out the sun, waiting five years for a break in those very same clouds to let the sun shine in Manhattan again. Based on the NASA satellites in orbit, the North American air masses have returned to normal, but those closest to the ruins of East Asia are still choked with smoke and ash. He hates remembering that day, hates it more than anything. It was the day the hope left his parents’ eyes, watching that cloud roll in.
He shakes his head, trying to pull himself from his funk. He has things to be happy about. Farming has returned to the Midwest, and the soil is fertile, the crops that were almost ready for harvest frozen in the Long Night finally decaying and bringing revitalizing nutrients. New Topeka was a boomtown of settlers eager to make themselves anew, and he has a date with Stiles.
Stiles, who mentions his father back in Lake George almost constantly, worrying from two hundred miles away. Stiles, who is as beautiful as he is hairbrained, the precious few milligrams of Adderall given to him by the government not enough to keep him on track 100% of the time. It’s not enough to keep him from walking away from his desk at the Department of Geology at Columbia in order to burn off some excess, but it’s better than nothing. It’s how they met, geology. They’d both dedicated their lives to averting disasters like the Long Night by studying, and, hopefully, one day, controlling volcanoes and earthquakes.
Reaching the Europa Café is a tiresome chore for Derek, who lives nearly a mile downtown, but Stiles loves the place, so he trudges, rain or shine, once a week for lunch with his boyfriend. And, they’re nearing a year together, so he’s trying to formulate an appropriate gift, and spending time with Stiles is the best way to do it. He comes into the café in time to discover Stiles has already ordered for him, and is chowing into his own pasta.
“Thanks for the food, babe.” Derek says easily as he sits, grabbing a plastic fork and knife to cut his cajun chicken.
“No problem. Did Lydia contact you?” Stiles squeezes out between bites, clearly starving.
Derek is perplexed. “No, why would she? We have today and tomorrow off.”
Stiles looks at him with his eyes bugging out. “We’re going to Japan!”
Now Derek’s eyes bug out. “Stiles, why in the Hell would the university send us to Japan?! It’s uninhabitable!”
“No, it’s not. The gases we thought were coming from Aira were just leftovers hanging in the atmosphere. Radio contact was established a few days ago with a city called Maebashi, they survived the Day and I guess they have a lot of geological data for us. Lydia is leading a team of scientists to meet the ones over there.”
Sure enough, Derek’s phone buzzes, and Lydia’s face flashes on the screen. “Yeah, I know, Lyds. We’re going to Japan. Uh huh, we’ll see you soon.” He hangs up. “We leave on the USS JFK tomorrow at three.” He informs his lover.
Stiles nods, already aware, and digs back into his pasta.
+
The USS John F Kennedy is one of the last surviving aircraft carriers from the US Navy, the rest lost to the Long Night or the Winter Wars. The huge ship took anchor in New York Harbor as soon as the ice on the oceans could be broken, a few months into the year long spring of 2021. Derek keeps as close as he can to Stiles, both of them trudging behind Lydia aboard the massive ship.
“Dr. Martin, I’m Lieutenant Scott McCall, USS JFK. Welcome aboard.” A man about the same age as the three scientists greets them on the flight deck, saluting.
“Lieutenant, I’m Dr. Lydia Martin, Department of Geology, Columbia University, and these are my two most trusted colleagues, Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski.” Lydia gives a mawkish salute back to the man.
Stiles warmly shakes McCall’s hand, and Derek does so a bit more cooly. They’re shown to their guest quarters, and are pleasantly surprised to find a spacious double bed in Derek and Stiles’ rooms. Lydia flops in a chair, and grins up at her companions.
“Like the room I got you, boys? I know what you two do at night, and it ain’t researching volcanology.” She’s far too smug, so Derek decides to fix that. He easily swoops down to pick the spritely little woman and slams her to the bed, all as she squawks in protest.
“Why can’t you pin me to the bed like that?” Stiles mutters, clearly embittered.
“Just you wait.” Derek turns with a wink and a sly grin.
“As much as I would like to be a fly on the wall, I’ve got research to do. Stiles, call off your attack sex toy, please.” Lydia’s pleas are muffled by the solid muscle of Derek’s chest.
Stiles gets a similar sly grin, and trails his finger up Lydia’s leg, exposed by her skirt. It’s unmistakable, the suppressed tremor of a ticklish reaction. “Derek?” He draws the name out, making the second syllable jump in pitch.
In an instant, Derek sets to tickling Lydia’s side. Her half-horrified, half delighted shrieks of laughter barrell down the halls of the ship, and a curious female sailor with the name Argent printed on her vest peaks inside. Her face blanks for a moment, but seeing Derek’s rapidly moving fingers quickly reassure her nothing untoward is occurring. Finally, the big lug stops and releases the winded scientist.
“God, why do I like you two?” She asks with a glare to peel wallpaper.
Unfazed, Stiles grins. “Because we’re the only ones not scared of you.” Derek nods in agreement.
“Damn you for being right.” She says, stalking out of the room.
The Argent girl blinks in surprise. “Is she always like that?”
“Yep.”
+
It’s almost two weeks sailing to the ruined Japanese archipelago, and the crew watches in awe as huge landforms jut from the waves, chunks of earth holding towns and cities blown from the crust and let to rest who knows how far. The water is a murky greenish-blue, and the same clouds that once choked the whole planet still hover over the ruined country. Far to the south, a huge spire of steam and smoke rises, visible even hundreds of miles north. Aira, still spewing.
Stiles quickly bonded with Lieutenant McCall, finding a fast friend in the easy man, even making friends with his somewhat uptight boyfriend, Isaac. Derek finds the two to be pleasant, if somewhat rowdy for his own taste, and he emails Cora ensuring her his is safe and that they’ve made it to their destination before preparing to disembark at Gunmar, the former Japanese Prefecture turned to an island.
They are transferred into helicopters, as there are no ports on the former landlocked province. The flight is somewhat bumpy, but they touch down at Maebashi City Center, to find a bright eyed Japanese man waiting for them.
As soon as she’s cleared the helicopter, he rushes up to Lydia and takes her hand eagerly. “Dr. Martin, I am Dr. Ken Yukimura, former head of geologic studies at University of Tokyo. Welcome to Maebashi!” He says.
“Dr. Yukimura, these are my colleagues, Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski.” Yukimura eagerly shakes each of the men’s hands.
Stiles is clearly perplexed. “I thought Mount Fuji wiped out Tokyo before evacuations could begin?”
The man nods. “My family and I were visiting relatives here when the Day occurred, thank God.”
Derek interrupts. “Are they…?” He trails off, uncertain as how to finish the statement.
“No. The city was well stocked and rationed quite well. As you can imagine, there weren’t many people to ration on anyway.” Ken points out, drawing their attention to the ruined city. The downtown area is mostly intact, but the further from their own building they look, the more blatant the destruction.
“My God.” Derek whispers to himself.
“Agreed, Mr. Hale. Come, let us review our data.” Yukimura leads them into the building.
+
Two weeks in Japan reveals fascinating data. The P and S waves of the resulting quakes, seismic data on the days and weeks leading up to the Day, and more. It’s a treasure trove, and Lydia lavishes praise on her Japanese hosts, infinitely grateful for it. As time goes on, Derek begins to get a feeling of great unease that comes to a head.
One day, while trying to access seismic data from a date prior to two months before the Day, Stiles encounters a locked file, and reaches to Kira, Yukimura’s daughter and also a trained seismologist, for help.
“Of course, Stiles.” She says easily, unlocking the file. Derek and Lydia drift over to the terminal, watching as Stiles reads months and months of backlogs, finally, he reaches an untranslated work, which Kira quickly reads, her mouth gaping in horror.
“What?! Kira, what is it?!” Lydia demands, shaking the horrified girl.
“‘It is the findings of the Todai geology department that there is a 100% probability of the eruption of the Aira supervolcano by no later than July of 2016, and attached is a simulation of the eruption and areas safe from the resulting crustal collapse. Yours, Dr. Ken Yukimura.’ It’s dated February of 2013. He knew… My father knew… and did nothing. Billions died, and he did nothing. He fortified the city he knew would be safe, moved his parents and siblings, and left the rest to die.” Kira whispers in shock.
Stiles looks faint in his chair, and Derek is trembling in rage. Finally, Lydia stands, and looks resolute. “Email those files to the USGS, and go home and pack a bag. The JFK is leaving in an hour.”
Kira nods, and storms out of the lab.
“Can he really have lied to us?” Stiles asks.
“It looks like he did. That son of a bitch could have prepared us, and instead, he let four billion die. He let my family die.”
“Derek?”
“Yes, Stiles?”
“He has to pay for this.”
“Oh, he will.”
“Good.”
Peter was right. Fate really is an ugly bitch, after all.