“They can fight you, right?”
Rokhaset nodded deliberately. “Oh, yes, Jodi Goldman. Enough of our old instinctive accord survives that even they will not attack us for no reason—there will be no genocide here, despite our opposition. But if we are actually intruding on their territory and interfering with their work, they most assuredly will fight us, and can and will kill our people. As you can see, this places us at a grave disadvantage without H’adamant.”
“Okay, I get you. And right now they’re planning one of their big parties, right?”
“One which, if you will pardon the use of one of your own idioms, will assuredly bring down the house.” Rokhaset seemed grim. “And for the second time, your people, Clinton Slade, have made it impossible for us to stop it . . . and both your people and mine will pay the price.”
“Second time?” Now, I was getting really nervous, as I started to get a glimmer of the horror that was waiting behind Rokhaset’s account.
“Second time, Clinton Slade. When your ancestor first entered our caverns and stole our entire cache, cloaked by the H’kuraden he carried, he did so at the worst possible moment; the times and powers had aligned so that the Lisharithada could carry out one of their greatest destructive rituals, and suddenly we were powerless to stop it. For a time we believed that somehow they had found a way to bypass the mystical defenses that surrounded our most secure caches. It was almost a relief when the next theft’s source was traced to your forefather. But that did not repair the damage from the first theft. For a while, we had convinced them to moderate their behavior, but then your people truly began your intrusions upon the Earth, and their anger grew. Now the same forces have aligned once more, and the Lisharithada prepare to unleash them with even more fury than they did a short time after your ancestor had robbed us for the first time.”
“Holy Mother of God.” I heard myself whisper, unable to stop myself. “You’re talking about the New Madrid Earthquakes!”
What Jodi said at that point I can’t repeat. Rokhaset simply bowed his head.
“Look, Rokhaset, we gotta try to stop ’em at least! We’ll head topside and you guys will help us get the road back, so’s we can get you the diamonds that’re left. We could try to buy some more back.”
Rokhaset nodded. “We shall try, Clinton Slade. We shall hope the H’adamant you still have shall suffice, but I have grave doubts. We do not have the time for you to buy some more, I am afraid. To make the elixir will take two and a half days, as you measure time. They will strike in four days, as that is when the forces will be at their peak of alignment. Do you truly believe you shall be able to locate so many H’adamant, arrange for their purchase, and deliver them to us, in time for us to make the elixir and then carry the battle to them? Even as things are, it will be difficult, leaving aside the fact that, as your people do not know or respect H’adamant for what it is, there would be no way of telling whether the ones you purchased retained their true virtue until they had actually arrived.”
There wasn’t any arguing that. Four days . . .
I tried not to think about it, but anyone in my profession has already visualized the consequences of a Richter 8+ quake east of the Mississippi, and the New Madrid fault has always been the chief suspect. The area of effect of a major quake in this area would be monstrous: ten, fifteen times that of a comparable quake on the West Coast. It would level almost everything manmade in at least three or four states, cause heavy damage in adjoining ones, and be felt from the Rockies all the way to Vermont, maybe even Maine.
“Waitaminnit!” I said, suddenly thinking of something. “These Lisharithada, they live underground like you do, right? Well, if they set off a Richter eight quake right here, what’s gonna keep ’em—and you, for all of that—from being squished when the quake brings the caverns down?”