The Yellowstone Conundrum Read Free

Spectoradiometer, NASA).
      Overnight the imaging data from the two satellites showed a color change of the temperature immediately beneath the surface up to 2 miles deep from blue to a series of psychodelic oranges and deep reds; magma, lots of it, had moved closer to the surface of the earth.
      “Are we about to have an event ? ” Danny asked, very concerned.
      “We may,” Nancy agreed. “I need to get up the line; be back to you soon. Get me what you can.” Nancy hung up.
      Nancy wasn’t a “coffee-person” but she could have used the moments to sip a cup to reflect on her options; five seconds passed and she went to Plan B, the second thing she’d learned. When the shit is going to hit the fan, make sure your boss knows about it ahead of time .
      In the government of the United States; that would be OUR government; many, if not most, line responsibilities are dotted; that is, I need to know what you’re doing but I can’t fire you ; as opposed to direct line, I know what you’re doing and you’re fired . 
      Because our government is so large and so convoluted (the Republicans are right on this one) one manager can have multiple dotted line “managers” and may not even have a direct line manager, or one that has hire-fire capability. 
      Nancy punched out a local number 236-5900, the number for the USGS Regional office in the Denver Federal Center on West 6 th (US 6) and Kipling Streets, less than five miles downhill from her office in Golden.
      “ You’ve reached the Southwest Regional office of the United States Geological Survey. Our office hours are seven-thirty to four-thirty Mountain Standard Time. Please call back during those hours.”
      “Shit!” Nancy cursed as she returned to her computer and found the internal Federal Government telephone directory, then dialed Bill Gallagher’s direct line 236-5440.
      “ Hi, this is Bill Gallagher. Sorry I’m not in the office.  I’m on vacation this week, returning on February 26 th . You can either leave a message at the beep or contact my secretary, Rhonda Holland at 236-5441, or press the pound key to leave a message .”
      It was the curse of the over-achievers; most people get to and leave from work at the appointed hours. Part of the generally-accepted CYA process was that when you couldn’t reach someone, make sure you leave electronic breadcrumbs along the way that timestamp your efforts. Nancy pounded out to voice mail; either Rhonda or Bill would pick up the message; as she left the voice message she quickly typed an e-mail to duplicate it.
      In the lower right of her screen a pop-up box showed that Danny Ross was IM’ing her. 
      Madison River is spiking big time, so is Lake Yellowstone.
      Nancy punched out 703-648-7412 in Reston, Virginia where it was 8:56 and Spring was just around the corner in the capital area; temps would be in the high 50’s today. It didn’t matter that another Deep South system was already cranking up in the Southwest. Denver had received six inches of snow last night. The storm would follow the typical winter pattern across the South and roll up the Eastern Seaboard the day after tomorrow.
      Reporting seismic anomalies from Upper Falls, Yellowstone River. Jesus, Ms. Nancy!
      “This is Janice Smithers,” answered the 48-year old Deputy Director.  Her secretary Unice Smith had gone to fetch coffee, but that was twenty minutes ago.
      “Ma’am, this is Nancy O’Brien.  This isn’t a recording is it?” Nancy replied in a laugh as did the Deputy Director.
      “No, Dr. O’Brien. It’s not a recording. We actually answer our own phones,” replied the political appointee from Texas in her sweet, tangy drawl. “What time is it there? Aren’t you the early bird!"
      “Ma’am,” Nancy wasn’t used to calling any woman “ma’am” except her mother, however having been in the loop for thirteen years, she knew when to ma’am-ify and when not to.  “It’s a little