The other workers nodded and quickened their pace. Nobody wanted to linger in the containment area longer than possible.

Including Sandra.

* * *

Joe could feel the tension in the plant’s control room the minute he and Stan arrived. Banks of sophisticated control panels, gauges, and monitors, manned by a crew of largely Japanese technicians, lined the walls of the chamber, while the main work desk occupied the center of the room. Windows looked over the plant grounds. Glass partitions isolated various support cubicles. Anxious voices exchanged technical data in Japanese.

Joe spotted the men in charge, Haruo Takashi and Ren Hayato, huddled over a bank of monitors. All eyes turned toward Joe, the hubbub of voices quieting somewhat. He could tell right away that there was more bad news coming.

Some birthday this is turning out to be.

“What the hell’s going on?” he demanded.

Takashi turned to face him. The Deputy Plant Administrator was a slim young man, who looked like he was having a bad day as well. “Maybe not such a good time for a meeting,” he suggested.

“Agreed,” Joe said, pushing the seismic graphs on Takashi. “Have you seen this?”

Takashi nodded toward the bank of monitors he had been glued to before. Hayato, the Senior Reactor Engineer, stepped aside so that Joe could see for himself. Joe immediately recognized the distinctive waveform snaking and pulsing across the monitors. It was the same pattern that he had been staring at for days.

“Do we have a source?” he asked crisply. “Where’s the epicenter?”

Takashi threw up his hands. He was more rattled than Joe had ever seen him. “We keep trying… nothing…”

Joe shook his head. “It’s got to be centered somewhere.”

Hayato spoke up. “No one else is reporting. We’ve contacted every other plant in the Kanto region, Tokai, Fujiyama… they’re unaffected.”

Joe wasn’t sure if that was good news or bad. “Are we at full function?”

Takashi nodded. “Perhaps we should be drawing down. To be safe.”

“Is that my call?” Joe asked.

“Right now, maybe yes,” Hayato conceded. He was an older man with graying temples, only a few years from retirement. “We’re trying to reach Mr. Mori, but he’s not answering.”

Joe wasn’t inclined to wait on the owner of the company. Those weren’t profit-and-loss charts on the monitors. This was a safety issue.

As though to drive that point home, another tremor rattled the building. This one was felt even harder and sharper than before. Joe felt the weight of dozens of eyes upon him. He made up his mind.

“Take us off-line,” he said.

Stan balked. A shutdown could cost millions—and possibly their jobs. “Joe…”

“Do it. Wind it down.” He issued the order in Japanese. “Seal down the reactors.”