The Icarus Effect Read online

  “Yup,” Ben said. Chad stayed quiet, for once.

  “So, you fellas are kinda coming in at the end of the day, so I’ll just show you where the cafeteria is so you can get some grub, then we’ll walk across the street to the hotel where you’ll be staying.” He led them through a maze of hallways and cubicles as he talked. “So, to go back to your first question, NIFC is the National Interagency Fire Center. It’s run by the Forest Service, and it’s the national headquarters for planning, directing and coordinating all the wildfire suppression efforts for the entire country. It also has an active tanker base for working local and regional fires. You see all the reddish stains all over the ramp and the planes outside?”

  “Yeah,” Ben said.

  “That’s fire retardant. Its a sort of a slurry, a mix of chemicals and water that the tankers carry and drop on fires. Works great, but the down side is it stains everything red. People, clothes, trucks, stray elk, you name it. You don’t wanna get it on your Sunday best, that’s for sure. Lots of tanker activity here whenever there’s a fire anywhere within easy flying distance. Lots of firefighter training goes on here, too, which you guys’ll get a taste of in the morning. Here’s the cafeteria.”

  He led them into a warehouse-like room with dozens of picnic tables and benches set up. Large coffee pots and insulated beverage containers lined several tables along one wall, and a large window opened on an industrial kitchen filling the space beyond, complete with a buffet style setup with various main dishes and sides laid out. Several workers were busily clearing things away as they walked up.

  “Hey gorgeous,” Terry called out to an enormously round woman in her sixties. “You got anything left out for a couple of late shows?”

  “You quit trying to flatter me, young man,” she said with a laugh. “You boys grab some trays over there, we still have some hamburgers warmed up from lunch. Help yourselves.”

  Terry pointed them to the trays and utensils. “They do three good meals a day here, starting at six, noon and six, but no matter what time you come in here before midnight, you’ll be able to find something. All your food here is paid for while you’re in class, and your lodging is covered at the hotel across the street.”

  “Is that where you’re staying?” Chad asked.

  Terry shook his head. “Nah. We rack out on cots in the warehouse next door. We’re only gonna be here until we get assigned to a fire, then we’ll bug out. We might come back a couple of times a season, but we’ll mostly be living on the road after that.”

  Ben loaded his tray with a hamburger and some potato salad. “Where do we go for class?”

  “The big conference room we passed on the way in,” Terry said. Class starts at seven. Just be there on time, and you’ll be fine. They’ll have all the supplies you need, so just bring yourselves. I’d grab a big cup of coffee in here before class, if I were you, though. First day can be a real snoozer.” He looked at Chad, who was staring at the buffet line. “You not hungry?”

  Chad looked like his nausea was making a comeback. “I think I’ll just wait for dinner,” he said.

  After Ben finished his burger, Terry walked them across the street and got them checked in to their hotel. “You’re on your own until class tomorrow,” he said, handing them each a badge with STUDENT in big black letters on it. “Don’t lose those - they’ll get you in to the cafeteria tomorrow morning. If you try to get in there without ‘em, somebody might think you’re a freeloader and toss you out on your ear.” He turned to go. “I’ll probably see you guys at breakfast tomorrow. Welcome to the Forest Circus!”

  National Interagency Fire Center

  Boise, Idaho

  The Next Day

  6:45 A.M.

  Ben found a seat in the large conference room, carefully placing his jumbo styrofoam coffee cup within easy reach at his feet. He looked around the room as people filed through the door in ones and twos, some looking like they belonged there and others looking as lost as he felt. Terry strolled in and took a quick look around, then headed over when he noticed Ben.

  “I see you took my advice,” he said with a nod at the large cup of coffee.

  “I figured you’d probably know best,” Ben raised the cup in a mock toast. “Thanks for the tip.”

  “You’ll thank me later when it gives you an excuse to hit the bathroom in the middle of one of the lectures. I gotta take off - just wanted to stop and see if you made it all right. See ya around.”

  “Later, Terry. Thanks again.” Terry waved a hand over his shoulder as he walked out. Ben could hear him calling out and laughing with someone passing in the hall as an older man wearing a Forest Service uniform walked in.

  “Good morning, everyone,” he said as he walked to the front of the room. “Let’s jump right in. Welcome to NIFC.”

  The man droned on for nearly an hour about various aspects of safety without ever seeming to take a breath. At one point, Ben noticed the door open slowly, revealing Chad doing a poor job of sneaking in unnoticed. The speaker barely slowed his monologue long enough to glare while he took a sip of water, but then he forged ahead. Ben found himself wishing he’d brought an extra cup of coffee.

  By the time lunch rolled around, they’d filled out mountains of paperwork and been briefed on nearly every type of equipment used in firefighting. Ben avoided Chad during lunch, having had enough of his bluster the previous day to last him all summer. As he got settled in his chair for the afternoon session, Chad plunked down in the seat next to him. Ben stifled an exasperated sigh.

  “Betcha thought you could duck me all day, didn’t ya?”

  “I’m not ducking anybody,” Ben said. “How come you were late?”

  “Met a girl last night,” Chad bragged. “I think I’m in love.”

  “Whatever,” Ben said, shaking his head.

  “Lemme tell you all about it,” Chad offered.

  “I’d rather you didn’t.”

  “She’s a doctor. Smokin’ hot. Loaded. Drives a sports car, too.”

  “Please stop.”

  “Whatsa matter, man?” Chad asked, looking offended. “You don’t like girls, or what?”

  Ben was tempted to tell Chad exactly what he didn’t like, but Carlos, the man who’d been briefing them all morning, walked back in and started talking, saving him the trouble.

  “All right, everyone,” Carlos said. “I hope you all got plenty to eat during lunch. Let’s go over our last piece of safety gear. We’re gonna do a quick demonstration in here, where you can all see better, then we’ll head outside on the grass and have you all practice for yourselves.

  “This is something that you will have to carry with you at all times when you’re going to, working on or coming from any fire. I cannot stress this enough - if you don’t have this piece of equipment with you, you don’t go out on a fire, and needless to say, if you don’t go on a fire, you don’t get any hazard pay.”

  Several people chuckled. “No way I’m gonna miss out on that extra cash!” Chad blurted.

  Carlos looked over at him. “You do realize that if you show up late to a fire, you also don’t get paid, right?” More laughter, but none of it from Chad. “Come on up here, sir.” Carlos beckoned to Chad with his free hand. “This is an audience participation exercise, and you just volunteered.” Chad got up reluctantly and walked forward.

  As he did, Carlos held up a small, yellow Nomex stuff sack. “This is your emergency shelter.” He unzipped the sack and pulled out a thin aluminum blanket, peaked in the center, closed at the upper and lower end and open lengthwise from top to bottom. It looked like a very flimsy pup tent made out of tin foil. Carlos pulled a chair around next to the table at the front of the room, then patted the table. “Hop up here, if you would.”

  Chad gave him a doubtful look, but stepped up from the chair to the tabletop anyway as Carlos continued speaking. “This shelter is for use in the event that you are working a fire and it changes direction, cuts off your line of retreat, or simply overruns your
position, and you find yourself unable to get out of the way. In those cases, where you are about to be overrun by a fire, you can deploy this shelter, allow the fire to burn over you, and survive to tell about it later.

  “All right,” Carlos said to Chad. “Take the shelter in both hands, like so.” He demonstrated by holding the top end of the shelter with his arms extended above his head, allowing the thin material to unfold and dangle behind his back. He nodded at Chad and handed the shelter to him. Chad held it up, then looked back down at Carlos.

  “Good. Now, just take a half step back, stepping into the bottom pocket there.” Chad did as he was told, ending with both feet inside the shallow pocket at the bottom of the shelter, and the shelter itself stretched up over his back to his upraised hands. “Good,” Carlos said. “Now, keeping the shelter firmly gripped in both hands, get down on your face.”

  “Seriously?” Chad asked, looking askance at Carlos.

  “How bad do you want that hazard pay?” Carlos asked.

  Chad shrugged, and lowered himself down onto the table. The shelter naturally fell over his back, covering his body entirely as he lay down. “Do I get paid if I go to sleep in here?” he asked in a muffled voice.

  Carlos ignored him. “Now, use your knees and elbows to pin the outside edges of the shelter under yourself. The idea is that you want the lower edge of the shelter stretched tight by your extended arms and legs, and pinned close to the ground, to keep hot gases and smoke from infiltrating inside.”

  He turned to face the room as Chad rustled around under the fabric. “You must understand. The emergency shelter represents a last resort contingency. If you find yourself in a situation that requires deploying your shelter, you can be assured that things have gone seriously wrong.” He motioned to the aluminum-encased lump on the table that was Chad. “As you can see, our volunteer here bears a strong resemblance to a giant baked potato.” Most of the room laughed. “But don’t listen to the people who tell you that if you deploy one of these, you’ll end up being a baked potato. These shelters have saved hundreds of firefighters’ lives in the past twenty-plus years since they first entered wide-spread service.

  “The most common reason for the shelters failing, is that the occupants failed to remain in their shelters. They feel the heat of the fire close by, and they panic, and imagine they can get out and outrun the fire. Believe me, you cannot outrun a fire. If you do have to deploy your shelter, then stay put until your crew chief sounds the all clear. Entire crews have survived being overrun, laying inside their shelters for upwards of thirty minutes while the fire burned around them. Most come out afterward with little or minor injuries - but they come out alive.”

  He tapped Chad on the head. “You can come out now.” Chad stood up on the table and shrugged off the shelter, then gave a bow and stepped down. “All right,” Carlos continued. “Everybody follow me out to the big lawn, and be sure you each grab a shelter out of the box by the door.”

  Ben got up and followed the crowd, slowing his pace until he was sure that Chad was focused on a petite girl with red hair near the front of the line. As they all shuffled outside, Ben watched as Chad’s animated body language showed his desperation to impress the young lady, while hers showed a certain annoyance. Ben couldn’t resist.

  Working his way through the crowd, he came up behind the girl. Chad was trying his best to convince her to go out with him after class. She was clearly uneasy, but was apparently too polite to tell him to take a hike. Ben circled around her right side and clapped Chad on the shoulder like they were old friends.

  “Hey Chad, weren’t you gonna tell me all about your date with that doctor last night? You know, the rich one? What was that you said - ‘she was smokin’ hot, with a sports car?’ You said you were gonna give her a ride in your fighter jet, right?” He plastered an innocent smile on his face, looking expectantly at Chad “Oh, hey,” he said, looking at the redhead as if he’d just noticed her, feigning surprise. “Who’s this?”

  “‘This’,” the girl said, shooting an icy glance at Chad, “is just leaving.” She shoved past Ben and made her way to the far side of the lawn.

  Chad glared at Ben. “That was a dick move, man.”

  “Guess I used it on the right guy, then, didn’t I?” Ben asked with a smile. He turned away too, leaving Chad stewing by himself.

  They spent the rest of the afternoon going over emergency procedures and having personal equipment issued to them. Chad kept his distance now, a small favor for which Ben was eternally grateful. He couldn’t stand Chad’s bluster and bragging, and he hoped that when it came time for crew assignments, they’d get different crews, separated by at least a time zone.

  At the end of the day, Ben walked through the chow line, thoroughly exhausted. He’d absorbed a great deal of information, and was struggling to keep it all straight in his mind. In spite of that, he felt good about everything he was learning. He filled his tray, then walked over to an empty table, lost in thought. He’d just sat down and was contemplating the casserole on his plate when someone spoke behind him.

  “This table reserved?”

  Ben turned to see the redhead from earlier standing there, tray in hand. She wore an expression of half-smile, half-challenge.

  “No,” Ben said, trying and failing to hide his surprise. “Have a seat.”

  “Thanks.” She sat down and busied herself unwrapping her paper napkin and plastic utensils.

  Ben watched her while trying not to look like he was watching her. “Sorry about earlier,” he said.

  She looked up. “‘Sorry’? For what?”

  “Oh, I was, um… I guess that was kinda rude, what I did.”

  “Would it have been more polite to let that jerk keep hitting on me?”

  Ben thought about that. “I guess not.”

  “Then you have nothing to apologize for.”

  “Ok.” He wiped his hands on his napkin and offered his right to her. “I’m Ben. And now that you’ve explained it to me, I realize I’m not sorry, after all.”

  She smiled, extended her own hand across the table to take his. “Hannah Grogan.”

  “Nice to meet you, Hannah,” Ben said. “I’m Ben Bennett.”

  “Your parents had a sense of humor, didn’t they?”

  Ben smiled. “Yeah, it’s kinda heavy on the alliteration, but it’s just a nickname. My real name is worse.”

  “Should I ask?”

  He grimaced. “Harvey.”

  Hannah giggled. “Like the big invisible rabbit?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Don’t tell me you never saw that old Jimmy Stewart movie,” Hannah said, laughing. “‘Harvey’ was about this guy who thought he saw a giant talking rabbit everywhere he went, but nobody else could see it. Everybody thought he was crazy.”

  “Don’t think I’ve seen that one,” Ben said, grinning.

  “My parents loved it,” she said. “I must have seen it a hundred times.”

  “How’s it end?”

  “Oh, he was sane. But it turns out, everybody else in the movie was nuttier than a fruitcake,” Hannah said. She watched him for a few seconds, then burst out laughing.

  Ben laughed with her. He was liking this job more and more by the minute.

  5

  Super Alis ex Cera

  National Interagency Fire Center

  Boise, Idaho

  The Next Day

  6:45 A.M.

  “What’s his problem?”

  Ben looked across the room, spotting a glowering Chad just as he averted his stare. “You’re gonna have to be more specific,” Ben said. “He’s got a variety.”

  “He’s been giving you the stink-eye ever since yesterday.” Hannah turned her chair slightly to put Chad out of her field of view.

  “He’s probably just mad that somebody smelled through his bull. Makes no difference to me.”

  “You know what I think?”

  Ben shook has head carefully as he sipped his coffee.
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  “I think that everybody else was just too polite to call him on it.”

  “You saying I’m rude?” Ben asked, not sure if she was serious.

  “No,” Hannah said. “At least, not in polite company. But you don’t seem to have a problem giving rude people a taste of their own medicine.”

  “Well, if the shoe fits…”

  Ben was interrupted as Carlos walked in. “Good morning, people. Today, we’re going to get out of the classroom and actually do some field training.” Several people let out a stage-whisper version of a cheer. “I know,” Carlos said, holding up both palms in a placating gesture. “You all really wish you could spend all week cooped up in here listening to me talk, but sooner or later, we actually need to teach you all how to use a shovel. We’ll be loading up in buses and heading up into the foothills north of town. We’re going to set up some controlled burns in different types of fuel and terrain situations, so you can get a feel for how a fire actually behaves in real-world conditions. The buses should be pulling up out front any minute, so police up your things and meet me out front.”

  “So, do we need to bring all our gear?”

  Ben hung his head. Of course it had to be Chad who asked.

  Carlos tried and failed to hide his exasperation. “Well, what do you think, Chad? After all the safety briefings we sat through yesterday?”

  Chad furrowed his brow for a moment. “You probably want us to drag everything along, huh?”