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In a sense, it all happened as anticipated. There were no surprises, except one, that I couldn't sense the pain or the outcry of those millions who had just perished or suffered great agonies. All I could feel, was an overwhelming relief that we ourselves had survived.
Once I allowed myself to relax, to collect my thoughts, I glanced over to Harry. I noticed he wasn't in his seat anymore. It struck me as odd that I hadn't noticed him leaving the flight deck. Some time later Rosalinde left. She came back with a pot of hot coffee and four China cups. How beautiful this simple gesture was, the product of human culture: art, design, economy, and caring. The realization gave me an indescribable feeling that we live in a richly beautiful world that we had steadfastly ignored until now.
I thanked Rosalinde and commented that this was probably the finest cup I'd ever had.
She smiled as I drank it.
Minutes later I initiated our ascent into the sunshine. It was noon. The sun felt hot. Its brilliance was blinding. The song of a violin emerged from the cabin below. Our emergence into the sunshine sparked a celebration. So, there was a concert after all. The music was soft, but distinct. It carried a sad, deep-reaching melody that echoed the depth of my feelings, giving them form and definition. It was a song of solitude that reminded me of the mountains, the hiking trip we had planned with Melanie and the children.... But had Vancouver indeed been spared?
I pushed the throttles open to find out. I was impatient. I had to find out. Under full power the plane rose quickly over the mountains. I didn't care about the fuel this cost us. I had to see if Vancouver was still alive. Ken hadn't been able to contact Vancouver Tower, or Victoria. He had called several times after the blast. But there was no response. As I banked the aircraft to the right, towards Vancouver, two huge pillars of smoke came into view, and some lesser ones. One of the larger pillars was so immense that it dominated virtually the whole sky. I leaned back now and cut power, relieved that the pillars of fire were too far in the south to be from Vancouver or Victoria. This meant that our destination was safe!
No person on the flight deck said a word. Everyone stared at the frightful spectacle. What we saw was unbelievable. The pillars were alive, boiling within, surging upward, and billowing out into an immense top at the edge of the stratosphere. Several of the smaller pillars of smoke had already began to merge at their tops into a dome that threatened to fill the entire sky, overpowered only the two immense pillars that had risen sixty thousand feet or higher, spreading horizontally in the stratosphere to form a gigantic double T.
It was painful to look at these pillars of fire. But in spite of the agony, one couldn't look anywhere else. The sight was captivating, of a scope alien to this world. The white volcanic cone of Mount Baker stood like a tiny dwarf in this scene of fire and smoke of unprecedented dimensions. I never felt more insignificant than on this day, a speck of dust in a boundless theater of horror.
As usual, Vancouver lay beneath a low overcast.
"Thank God Vancouver is still all right!" I exclaimed when I was able to lock our guidance system onto Vancouver's beacon.
"But you forget the fallout," said Ken. "Vancouver may not be all right. It may only be a matter of time before the fallout turns the entire city into a death trap."
"We must land somewhere," I said. "Besides, I expect my wife and children to be at the airport," I said to Ken, "and my friend's family."
Vancouver appeared like an oasis of life, surrounded by death.
"We don't have enough fuel anyway, to go anywhere else," Ken replied. "We have barely enough left to get us down." He added that he would try to contact the tower again.
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