Page 77 of Nothing But Air
“What about updating the equipment?” She gestured at the ancient setup. “New radios. Better satellite phones. Proper GPS systems instead of”—she raised her eyebrows—“whatever this is.”
“Hey. Don’t insult the vintage equipment. It has character.”
“It has dust. And possibly asbestos.”
“That would be huge though.” He was warming to the idea now. “Virgil might actually go for it. Practical. Necessary. And?—”
The door burst open.
Meg’s heart lurched. Her hand tightened on Noah’s.
Tevin—the son of one the senior rangers—stuck his head in, face flushed with excitement. “You guys hear about the solar storm?”
“What solar storm?” Noah straightened immediately.
“Massive one. Biggest in years.” Tevin’s eyes were bright, practically sparking. “Started hitting Earth’s magnetic field a few hours ago. They’re saying it might produce northern lights visible this far south.”
Northern lights over the Grand Canyon. Any other day, Meg might have been excited.
Instead, something clicked. “That could affect radio communications.”
“Definitely.” Tevin nodded. “Especially long-range frequencies. Satellite phones should be okay, but standard radio might be spotty.”
Noah was already pulling up data on the computer. “Why didn’t anyone mention this earlier?”
“It ramped up fast. Weather service just issued the alert.” Tevin was already backing toward the door. “Anyway, thought you’d want to know. Off to get cake from the lodge.”
He disappeared, leaving them staring at each other.
The silence was different. Less ominous. More…hopeful?
“The radios.” Meg moved closer to the screen—real-time solar data scrolling in waves of red and orange. “That’s why they haven’t checked in. The storm’s interfering.”
“Maybe.” Noah’s voice was guarded. He wanted to believe it.
“We should tell Virgil. If it’s the solar storm, he needs to know.”
They found Virgil in his office, phone pressed to his ear, weathered face creased with concern. He held up one finger—wait—and finished the conversation.
“Understood. Yes, I’ll let you know. Thanks for the heads-up.” He hung up. “Have the teams checked in yet?”
“No.” Noah stepped forward. “But we think it’s the solar storm. The magnetic interference could be affecting long-range radio.”
Virgil nodded slowly. “That would explain it. I’m hoping that’s all it is.”
All it is?
Meg caught the edge in his voice. “What else could it be?”
Virgil leaned back, leather creaking beneath him. His fingers drummed against the desk—a nervous tell she’d never noticed.
“That was a contact at park-service headquarters.”
“And?” Noah’s voice was tight.
“There’s an issue with Marcus Roosevelt.” Virgil moved to the window overlooking the canyon. “Another family member came forward. Claims he’s also a Roosevelt descendant. But his story doesn’t match Marcus’s account.”
Meg’s stomach dropped.
