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“One more indication that we’re on the right trail,” Emerson said.
—
Riley tagged after the tour guide, and Emerson, Vernon, and Wayan Bagus tagged after Riley.
“Hello, everyone, my name is Beth,” the guide said, “and this is the south section of the Upper Geyser Basin tour. The tour starts here with Old Faithful. Old Faithful is one of many geysers in this part of the park. It isn’t actually the biggest or even the most regular, but it is the biggest most regular geyser in Yellowstone.”
A chuckle went up from the crowd, and Emerson shifted his body weight from side to side. Small talk was Emerson’s kryptonite, and he was already losing patience with the tour.
Beth spent a couple minutes regurgitating facts about Old Faithful before moving on to its history. “Back in the nineteenth century, before the National Park Service was created, the United States Cavalry was in charge of Yellowstone and used Old Faithful as a makeshift laundry. They’d put their soiled uniforms in the geyser, and they’d be ejected clean and warm. But don’t any of you get any bright ideas! The inn’s housekeeping department does a much better job!”
There was another chuckle from the crowd and an audible groan from Emerson.
After a couple more minutes of stock jokes about Old Faithful, the tour moved on to its next stop, a conical mound with an opening in its top.
“This geyser is named the Beehive Geyser. Can anyone here tell me why it’s named Beehive?”
No one from the crowd said anything. Emerson looked like he was about to jump out of his skin. Vernon was grinning from ear to ear.
“Anyone? Anyone?” Beth said. “I’ll give you a hint. It’s not because it’s filled with honey.”
Vernon raised his hand. “I reckon it’s because it looks like a house of bees.”
Beth smiled at Vernon. “Correct.” She looked over the crowd. “Does anyone have any questions so far?”
Emerson perked up. “I do have a question. Where is the top-secret government research facility?”
“Pardon?” Beth said.
“I’m only interested in the one located over the giant pool of lava capable of destroying the earth,” Emerson said.
The crowd was silent. An older couple took a step away from Emerson.
“You know. The one where you keep the kidnapped visitors who”—Emerson made air quotes with his fingers—“?‘know too much.’?”
Riley nudged Emerson and whispered into his ear. “For the love of Mike, Emerson. Asking crazy questions during a public tour is rude, not to mention insane. How do you know if you can trust this guide? She could be one of your Rough Riders. She could text Tin Man that we’re here.”
Emerson nodded at Riley and gave her a thumbs-up. “Right. Understood. I’ll find out.” He turned back to the tour guide. “One follow-up question. Do you have any unusual tattoos?”
Riley smacked her forehead. The rest of the crowd was staring at the park ranger, waiting for her response.
“Um. No secret government labs, but at any given time, there are a wide variety of scientific studies being conducted at Yellowstone,” Beth said. “The Yellowstone Center for Resources is responsible for coordinating all the research programs. It’s with all the other administrative buildings at Mammoth Hot Springs in the northwestern corner of the park.”
“Do you really kidnap people who know too much?” a twelve-year-old boy in the crowd asked.
“Yellowstone has its own court and jail and police force, also located in Mammoth,” Beth said. “But they only detain people for actual crimes, and that doesn’t include knowing too much.”
Beth walked away down the path, and the group followed her to the next attraction on the Upper Geyser Basin tour.
“What the heck was that all about?” Riley asked Emerson. “Haven’t we gotten thrown out
of enough places? What happened to wu wei? Remember, the Zen art of doing nothing but enjoying the scenery and letting the universe solve the world’s problems all by itself?”
“We’re looking for a couple missing hikers in an area the size of Rhode Island, so I’m burning down the haystack. We make a big enough spectacle, and I suspect that it’s only a matter of time before Tin Man or one of his associates decides to take us to the same place those missing hikers ended up.”
“The bottom of a boiling acid-filled lake?”
Emerson shrugged. “It’s not an exact science. Sometimes you need to follow your gut and know when to wu wei and when to make a little trouble.”
