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“Yes, an initial tropical cyclone alert... Yes, I’m aware,” Jeremiah said. “If it continues to... That’s correct, official cyclone watch... No, sir... Yes, that’s correct, sir, I believe we’d be looking at a Category 5.”
His eyes met mine, and I felt the blood drain from my face.
Category 5.
Jesus fucking Christ.
He ran his hand through his hair, nodded, and spoke into his phone. “I’ll issue the CXML, but it’ll take some time... because the instruments here belong in a goddamn museum.”
He ended the call and tossed his phone onto the panel, then tapped the radar, his eyes meeting mine.
Grim.
“Category 5?”
He nodded. “If its trajectory doesn’t change. There’s nothing but warm air in its path and it’s just going to gain strength.”
Category 5.
He gestured to another screen. “It has perfect conditions. There’s nothing between there and here to stop it.”
“When?” I asked. “When will it be here?”
“Five days.”
“Five? That’s ages. Anything can happen between now and then. Why isn’t it on that radar yet?” I pointed to another screen.
“Because it’s out of Australian waters. This radar”—he pointed to the really old one—“is tracking. We share feeds with the International Committee...”
“But it might dissipate, right? It might lose momentum, change trajectory?”
His eyes caught mine, and I could see he was trying to understand why I didn’t believe him.
“It might,” he allowed. “And I really hope it does. But the probability that it will continue as projected is high. We have these measures in place for a good reason, Tully. It’s now an official cyclone watch. If it stays on track and reaches Australian waters, that will upgrade on day three to an alert. People need to know so they can make informed choices. Even if the cyclone downgrades, there will still be flood warnings, wind warnings, dangerous surf conditions. Severe storm warnings, rain, hail. If people want to evacuate, they can. Either way, people need to stock up on essentials and get prepared.”
Again, the sincerity with which he spoke, the urgency underlined with fear, told me all I needed to know. Whatever was comin’ was enough to put that edge of worry in his eyes.
I took out my phone, found the number I was after, and hit Call. “Tully,” Dad answered cheerfully. “Your mother and I were just talking about you. What’s up? Thought you’d be busy tonight with your new man. Gotta say, we were surprised to meet him. I know it was your brother’s doing, but still, we’ve never met any—”
“Ah, Dad,” I said. “Sorry to interrupt. I’m with Jeremiah right now. We called into his work before we went home. I know you have people who watch the weather and shit, but the bureau will be issuing an official cyclone watch. It’s being sent out now.”
“Is this that storm off the coast of Malaysia? Joseph’s already monitoring it, and we’ve already changed shipping routes. You know this.”
“Yeah, well, Jeremiah said it’s heading our way. And I’m lookin’ at a radar right now that’s tellin’ us Darwin will be a direct hit, Dad. And a possible Category 5 when it gets here.”
There was a beat of silence and then the quiet tapping on a keyboard. “A Category 5, you said?”
Jeremiah nodded.
“Yeah, Dad. It’s not good. We’ve got less than five days to get all the ships loaded and out of the harbour.”
There was a familiar beeping of an incoming call. “That’s Joseph calling me now. Christ almighty. Thanks for your call, Tull.”
The line went dead, and Jeremiah gave my arm a squeeze. But then another radar started to beep, and the data screens were rolling information so fast they almost blurred.
Jeremiah was flippin’ switches and reading screens like a madman. “Argh, why is everything so goddamned old?”
His phone rang again, and he was talking stats and data so fast to whoever that was, and about a minute later, a familiar motorbike came back into the yard. Doreen, with Bruce under her arm, came stomping back into the office. “I been gone for a hot minute and you issued a track map on a Cat 5? And I hear about it on the damn radio?”
