October 24^th came around, and the plans were the same as they had been four weeks earlier: meet at the McDonalds on the west side of Kallal City at 7 am.

This time, Melissa was there first, at 6:35. Billy was next, at 6:38. He got his things out and got into Melissa’s van, just as he had four weeks earlier.

“Hi, Billy.” said Melissa. “What would you like to explore today?”

“Hmmm… we’ve seen a movie theater that sold airag, a hospital that was turned into makeshift apartments, a mansion with a shrine to ducks, and an apartment with a full collection of National Geographics. Everywhere you look, this place has personality. So, I have nothing to suggest, it’s all good.” said Billy.

“I was thinking we head toward the volcano observatory and power plant. There’s a really interesting story I have to tell about it once everyone gets here.” said Melissa.

A lime green 2012 Chevy Camaro SS arrived at 6:44. It was Dirk, sporting a visible scar on the left side of his forehead.

Ugh… thought Billy, as Dirk walked toward the new van.

“Hey guys!” said Dirk.

“Hello, Dirk!” said Melissa.

“Hey, Dirk.” said Billy, with annoyance in his voice. “I’m glad to see you made a full recovery.”

At 6:48, a white 2014 Toyota 4Runner arrived and parked next to the Odyssey. A young man got out of the driver’s seat, Drew got out of the passenger seat, while Roger and Mikayla got out of the back seats. Drew introduced the unknown man.

“Billy, Dirk, this is Philip. We’ve been friends since high school. He wanted to come on the trip with us.” said Drew.

“Hi, Philip. Nice to meet you. Have you ever been to Izzy?” asked Billy.

“No. I’ve always wanted to go. Melissa’s told me it’s a surreal place.” said Philip.

“To say the least.” said Billy.

“We’re just waiting on David and Megan.” said Melissa.

Billy decided to show them his birthday weekday trick. “Melissa was born on April 28, 1964, a Tuesday. Roger, November 25, 1966, a Friday. David, September 30, 1981, a Wednesday. Dirk, April 18, 1990, a Wednesday. Drew, July 18, 1992, a Saturday. Me, December 24, 1995, a Sunday. Mikayla, April 1, 1996, a Monday. Megan, October 28, 1998, a Wednesday. If we had a Thursday baby, we’d have every day of the week.”

“Believe it or not, I was born on a Thursday. August 26, 1993.” said Philip.

“Ayyy, nice. Nice truck, too.” said Billy.

“I’m driving it into Izzy, so you’ll be seeing plenty of it.” said Philip.

Everyone was on time, for once; David arrived at 6:54 and Megan at 6:57. After they met the new party members, Melissa made her announcement for the day.

“Today we’re going to be focusing on the northwest section of town, nearest the volcano. Most of this area was developed in the ‘70s, so these buildings were mostly 15 years and younger when the town was abandoned, quite a few were brand new. That being said, this section of town is in the worst condition, overall. It’s on the volcano itself, so there’s lots of unstable ground that’s shaken and shifted a little with each eruption. Add to that that many of these weren’t the best quality buildings – a lot of the ’70s houses didn’t use the best materials – and we’re going to be seeing quite a lot of collapse here. Hard hats, masks, and the no entry alone rule are going to be strictly enforced today.”

Billy stuck with the Odyssey’s passenger seat; Melissa drove, David and Mikayla got in the middle row, and Megan got in the back right. Philip drove the 4Runner, with Drew in the passenger seat, and Roger and Dirk rode in the back seat.

“I’m going to tell you a story that few know about Izzy. Billy, you might want to get your camera out.” said Melissa. Billy got his camera out and started filming.

“Right now, we’re headed up to the old coal power plant in Izzy. It seems odd that Izzy would have still had a coal plant in 1987, but there’s a multitude of reasons. For one, our mayor had an ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ mentality, he wasn’t one to go on to pursue change for change’s sake. The mountain kept the pollution away from us, so there was no real pressing need for a cleaner power plant. I remember that the Izzy mayor said in the ‘60s to the mid ‘70s that ‘Izzy has no plans to go nuclear’. Eventually public pressure to ‘get with the times’ got him to change his mind, and in 1978 he announced that a nuclear plant would be built. The plan was for the plant to break ground, I think, in 1981 or so and be done somewhere around 1987 – right when the volcano actually ended up happening.” said Melissa.

“How close were they? Are we going to find an almost completed nuclear plant up there?” asked Billy.

“They never actually considered building it where the coal plant was, or on the mountain. They didn’t want to deal with the chance, however remote, of the volcano erupting and causing a meltdown. They had a site on the east side of town picked out, well out of the range of any eruption. They broke ground on the plant at that site, which was a few hundred feet away from a neighborhood, after they took a vote and found that 88% of the people were in favor. But of course, someone had to whine, and one of the residents filed a lawsuit, which put the plan on hold.” said Melissa.

“Wait a minute, so you’re telling me that one lawsuit meant the town was still on coal instead of nuclear? I understand the town would have still been evacuated, but what effect would still having an operational power plant have had? And why didn’t they just quickly throw the lawsuit out as frivolous?” asked Billy.

“Certainly, having power would have eased the evacuation and prevented that big plant explosion. It might have been kept on for a few months in case the volcano conditions became safe again. As for resettling the town, it’s possible that a portion of the town farthest from the volcano could have been resettled, but 70, 80 percent of it would have still been blocked off. Ultimately, for most of the town, it just wasn’t safe to resettle for over 30 years, and by then it had just deteriorated too much. As for your other question, it was already borderline on the plant being open by March of ’87 anyway, they did throw out the lawsuit as frivolous, but it still put construction behind several months, we were looking at late ’87. The plant was almost done, but they demolished it in 1994 due to the risks involved of keeping an unfinished nuclear plant around.” said Melissa.

Soon, the explorers were back in Izzy, the 4Runner following the Odyssey. After entering the town, they drove north up an avenue that first ran through about 2/3 of a mile of a large high-tech industrial district before crossing into a commercial district. The avenue ran up a gradual slope – the base of the volcano itself. By the time they got to the commercial district, they were probably 300 feet higher in elevation than when they’d entered the town. As they got closer to the volcano, the buildings seemed to get in worsening condition, with most having severe foundation issues and about half in various states of collapse.

“I’d guess the ground has moved over the years under these buildings.” said Billy.

Then, they got to two buildings, each 38 stories tall – the Izydorczak Twin Towers. Although the small office building next to them was half collapsed, the towers – and their turquoise steel frame – looked to be dirty but intact. Both vehicles stopped, and the explorers got out.

“The Twin Towers of Izzy. Raise your right hand if you want to explore it now, left if later.” said Melissa. All but Philip and Dirk raised their right hands. “All right, let’s see it.”

Buckled concrete and “drifts” of earth pushed against the base of the towers, as if they were trying to pull it down to the same fate of the surrounding buildings.

“How could the economy of a city this size support two office buildings this big?” asked Dirk.

“Really, it couldn’t. This building was built in 1975 and wasn’t expected to be full for 20 or 30 years. It was meant to be Izzy’s answer to the World Trade Center, both in the type of businesses it attracted and as a tourist attraction.” said Melissa.

“I read that it was also supposed to be a symbol of Izzy, that iconic building that dominated the skyline.” said Billy.

“We were very proud to have it. It was just as much about the symbolism as the building’s use itself. It filled up faster than expected, it ended up full for several years preceding the volcano. For one, Izzy may have had 60,000 people, but it had the international trade presence of a typical city two or three times its size. Also, just like the real World Trade Center, a rather large proportion of the tenants weren’t strictly involved in world trade. Half of the south tower was a hotel. The newspaper, where yours truly worked, and the TV station were located here, because it was the tallest building in town and thus, they put the TV tower atop it. And of course, the usual touristy stuff like a mall and an observation deck.” said Melissa.

“Didn’t you used to work in the real World Trade Center too? I’ve heard the layout of this one was based around it.” asked Billy.

“Yup, same construction type and same banks of elevators that serviced different floors, but there were a few differences.” said Melissa.

The explorers walked inside the lobby of the north tower through a revolving door. The still-intact lobby was 4 stories high, with gold marble floors broken up by green carpet pathways. The interior walls – which surrounded the building core – were finished in mahogany wood paneling. Large brass letters, each about 3 feet tall and 2 feet wide, which said “IZYDORCZAK TRADE CENTER” in a Times New Roman font, hung on the wall about 10 feet above ground level. 16 trees – four on each side, in planters, were still in perfect shape – obviously fake. Large fountains at the north and south end of the lobby, two identical sculptures – obsidian globes, with outlines of the continents carved into them, on marble plinths – and various paintings hung on the interior walls completed the décor.

Billy filmed the lobby. “It’s obvious they spared no expense on this place.”

“The company that developed it actually had to file for bankruptcy because it didn’t make money fast enough, because the economy was in a recession in the ‘70s. That’s why they turned the south tower into a hotel, as a last-ditch effort. After about ’82, this place made money hand over fist.” said Melissa.

Billy looked at the directory, located on the wall underneath the word “CENTER”. The “T” in the word Directory was askew, the only sign of decay in the building. Everything interesting seemed to be on the upper floors of the building – the lower and middle floors were financial and insurance companies. Honda of Helmintoller’s regional headquarters were on the 28^th floor. Nelson Exotic Meats, 26^th floor. Mongolian-Helmintoller Import Alliance, 29^th floor. And, of course, the Izydorczak Inquirer on the 34^th and 35^th floors, with WIZY-TV – and the mall on the 36^th and 37^th floors, and observation deck on the 38^th. As Billy examined it, Melissa came over.

“Here’s the building directory. When you’re done in the lobby, you can come over here and see what you want to explore in here.” said Melissa.

“I want to see the TV station. We haven’t seen one of those yet. But I don’t really feel like climbing 35 floors.” said David.

“We’re not in a hurry. We can take our time, visit other stuff on the way.” said Melissa.

“TV station! Ooh.” said Billy.

“Anyone that wants to go to the top of the tower, come with me. It is a 35-floor climb.” said Melissa.

Billy, Roger, Dirk, and Philip decided to join Melissa on the climb.

“I’m going to go get a 6-pack of waters.” said Billy.

“Everyone else going up, you get water too.” said Melissa.

The explorers turned on their flashlights to illuminate the dark stairwell. By the time they got to the 35^th floor, 18 minutes later, Melissa and Philip still had the energy to go much farther; Roger and Dirk were a bit winded; and Billy was sweating bullets and hunched over, needing only another floor or two for him to flop on his butt and take a break right there.

Billy staggered through the lobby, went down a hall to the right, and finally sat on an overstuffed chair inside a large weather forecasting room, which had dark blue walls, a dark blue carpet floor, and a tiled ceiling. On one wall of the room was a map, on white paper with black text, about 8’ wide by 6’ tall, with an outline of the city on it. At the top of the map, it said “Sunday Forecast”. Various numbers and letters were printed on the city area itself.

“Am I seeing this right? High of 41 east side of town, 28 up toward the northwest?” asked Dirk.

“Don’t forget the winter weather advisory for the west side of town only. Also, based on the elevation, I’d expect maybe a 3-4 degree difference, not 13.” said Billy.

“I’d say it averaged out to more like 7, but it was very unpredictable. Also, the volcano was the only mountain for 60 miles, so clouds would lose their moisture over it, so it rained a lot more in this part of town than out east. Also, the snow would stay on the ground here into April sometimes, it was always gone by the end of March in the rest of town.” said Roger.

“On the night of the volcano, I remember driving down from my house where there was a foot of snow on the ground, to the valley where it was 100% clear.” said Melissa.

“Speaking of the volcano, look.” said Billy.

A two-foot-tall sign on a wall said, “VOLCANO ALERT CONDITION” – from safest to most dangerous, it said “SAFE”, “NORMAL”, “CAUTION”, “ALERT”, and “EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY”, in Helvetica block letters. An arrow pointed at “SAFE”.

“Wow, didn’t even have time to change it.” said Billy.

On the other side of the room were the guts of the weather operation; a supercomputer doubled as the desk, with the computer unit itself being located under the left side of the wooden desktop. On the desk was the computer’s monitor – a 15-inch Commander unit – as well as a Commander keyboard. The camera was mounted atop a small pole facing the screen, and another keyboard, labeled “CAMERA CONTROLS” featured various buttons and switches, as well as a joystick. Several monitors were still hanging on a bar suspended from the ceiling, about 4 feet above the desktop.

After resting for about ten minutes, Billy got up and began to film the room, making sure to include several seconds of footage of the volcano alert sign as well as the office chair that had been at the computer/camera desk, now lying on its side several feet away.

“I think this was abandoned so fast that whoever was sitting here just yeeted the chair in their haste to get out.” said Billy.

“That’s exactly what happened.” said Roger.

The explorers went into a room to the right, a conference room. The room’s floor to ceiling windows illuminated the large cherry-wood table with well-padded chairs that had cherry wood frames and thick green cushions. All but Billy turned off their flashlights.

There were two doors leaving the room; the one they’d just entered, and another at the other end. On the wall opposite the windows, between the doors, was a large whiteboard.

On top of the whiteboard, in green marker, was “3/29/87”. The stories, written in blue underneath, included “WRESTLEMANIA”, “ACADEMY AWARDS”, and “THATCHER TRIP TO MOSCOW”. But what caught everyone’s attention was the 14^th story: “CADILLAC MASSAGE PROMOTION FAILS”.

“Wait a minute, what’s this Cadillac massage story? I seem to remember hearing my dad talk about that years ago.” asked Billy.

“It was actually the last story I ever worked on in Izzy. I was in my office a few hours before the eruption and wrote it. Basically, the Cadillac dealer here in town was giving out free massage certificates for test driving an Allante. It didn’t go well.” said Melissa.  

“Let me guess, a lot of people in their 20s who could never afford a Cadillac test driving them for the massage? Also, Cadillacs back then sucked.” said Billy.

“Precisely.” said Melissa.

A piece of paper, hung in a frame on a side wall, listed station policies. After filming the whiteboard and room surroundings, Billy went to it next. Aside from stuff like not using profanity or showing graphic violence, one of the rules stood out: Reporting that is detrimental to morality and interpersonal relations, such as polarized political reporting or excessive “bad things happening to good people” reporting, is not allowed by this station. Billy read this out loud.

“So, people were left in the dark about reality?” asked Dirk.

“No, but we didn’t follow the ‘if it bleeds, it leads’ mentality, and we didn’t try to dress it up as entertainment.” said Melissa.

As Melissa, Roger, and Philip finished looking at the conference room, Dirk got bored and started looking at the window, which directly faced the volcano and northwest section of town.

“Bruh. It’s all collapsed at the top of the hill. Didn’t you say you and David lived up there?” asked Dirk.

Melissa and Billy went to the windows. They could see that a large house near the northwest corner of town – the mayor’s house – was reduced to little more than matchsticks. While most of the buildings in the immediate vicinity were similarly collapsed, areas further to the east – near where Melissa and David lived – still had mostly standing buildings, although about 25% were in a state of complete collapse. As Billy videoed the damage, Melissa charted out in her head a path that she could use to get the explorers into that section of town.

After the conference room, the explorers went back through the weather room into another room with a studio – the overall look was similar, except instead of a weather screen, there was a window behind a news desk, with a view of a downtown section of Izzy. Retractable shutters, which would go over the windows when a view was not desired, were open.

“How did that weather map work, anyway? Was it all black and white or was there some sort of computerized color?” asked Billy.

“The outline, which we saw, was printed off on a giant dot-matrix printer, and the colors representing temperature and icons representing precipitation, wind, and that kind of thing were overlaid by a computer.” said Melissa.

“High tech stuff for 1987.” said Philip.

The news desk was fairly typical, with the grey desk featuring seats for three, facing a camera with a teleprompter next to it. At the back of the room was the control area, which featured a switcher labeled “TAPE”, “LIVE FIELD”, “LIVE STUDIO”, “WEATHER”, and “EBS”, and “V” connected to a similar setup as the control area of the weather room. The “V” switch, which was red instead of the white of the other switches, was pushed inward.

“I’m going to guess this is where the alert went out.” said Billy.

“Yup, it was broadcast from this exact room. They had a special tape that if you hit “V”, it would play the Emergency Broadcast System tone, followed by a pre-recorded message telling the people to evacuate the town. They had to test it once a month, you’d press the button for a test and hold it down for 5 seconds for an actual emergency announcement.” said Melissa.

“Was this the only time they actually activated it?” asked Dirk.

“Yes, although we came very close on August 16^th, 1986. There was a minor earthquake under the volcano, luckily it stopped at the last second before anything happened.” said Melissa.

“How did that change the way people acted?” asked Billy.

“The scientists of the time were saying it was the biggest event in thousands of years and probably a one-off thing. People acted the exact same afterward.” said Melissa.

“Wow, the warning went out from this very room, probably the most intact room in all of Izzy.” said Philip.

The next room the explorers went in was the tape archives room, located in a large windowless room. As the explorers turned on their flashlights, all they saw were brown metal floor to ceiling shelves. There were 13 aisles of shelves in total, each aisle going about 40 feet back. On the fronts of the aisles were dates, written in Sharpie; 11/25/1946 – 8/31/1951 on the first shelf, labeled “Shelf A”, to “11/19/1986 –“ on Shelf P. Shelves Q – Z were empty.

“They’d be full by now.” said Melissa.

Billy seemed to get lost in the rows of tapes, each labeled with a date and time. There were the kinescope film reels of the 1940s and ‘50s, then the station had apparently switched to 2” quadruplex tape on October 3, 1958. Then there were the rows of tapes, which dated from September 27, 1965, to about 1970, with “COLOR” written in big, rainbow-colored letters on the spine. Billy seemed to bypass most of the U-Matic tapes – dated from August 5, 1974, to February 24, 1985 – to look at the lonely last few Betacam tapes on Shelf P. Only the very top rack of Shelf P had any tapes on it, which extended about two-thirds of the way back from the front of the room; the remaining 9 racks were empty.

“I got you something.” said Billy. In his hand were the tapes for April 28, 1964, November 25, 1966, and September 30, 1981.

“Aw, thank you! But I can’t take it. We must leave this place as we found it for now, but don’t worry, we’ll get these tapes all digitized.” said Melissa. Billy put the tapes back.

After about 10 minutes in the room, the explorers were ready to move on to another area.

“Do you all want to see my old office?” asked Melissa.

“Is the sky blue?” asked Billy.

“This way.” said Melissa.

The explorers went back out through the newsroom, then the weather room, then back into the conference room where they used the other door, which led into a large room that covered the whole west half of the floor.

This room had a stark appearance, with no ceiling and white tile flooring; the building clouds visible through the windows further compounded the bleak aesthetic. Rows of identical computers sat on long tables, in the style of an open-plan office, with identical Aeron-like chairs behind them. Various papers and decorations sat next to each computer, which had a number on its monitor. Billy panned his camera across the vast room. “There’s got to be 2 or 3 hundred computers in here.” he said.

“The Inquirer was the only newspaper in all of Helmintoller that was fully laid-out by computer at this time.” said Melissa.

“Can we see your desk?” asked Billy.

Melissa led the explorers to desk 126, located on the north side of the building, facing the volcano.

“Do you mind if I film your desk?” asked Billy.

“You’re more than welcome to.” said Melissa.

Around the desk, there was a Kappa Xi Delta medallion, a picture of Melissa and her parents, a cross, and a printed-out news article on the desk, written at the top of which was “FIRST DRAFT - DUE BY APRIL 1”.

“RAX FAST FOOD RESTAURANT TO HAVE MORE STYLE IN JULY”

Other than a couple of editor’s notes, the article looked almost ready to print.

“Wait a minute, Rax… sounds vaguely familiar… no, I don’t think I remember them.” said Billy.

“They were really good, they started out with roast beef but expanded into salads, Mexican and Chinese food later on.” said Melissa.

“What? Roast beef and Chinese food under one roof? Sign me up! I don’t think I’d like the solarium they added in, though. Never was a fan of bright sunlight.” said Billy.

“All I know about Rax are those Mr. Delicious commercials. Those were weird.” said Dirk.

“Funny thing is, I liked those commercials. They’d work so well in today’s world.” said Roger.

The explorers continued to explore the tables, Billy panning his camera across them.

On table 131, the first bit of ‘bad’ news, aside from the volcano, appeared. “At Least Seven Sailors Killed in Iranian Attack on Tanker”.  

“That’s really sad, hope their family and friends are doing well nowadays.” said Billy. The explorers left that table to go to others.

Going over to some more computers, Billy found the automotive journalism section. Dirk walked over there with him. They found the glowing early reviews of certain cars humorous. “The new Volkswagen Fox brings a new standard of refinement to inexpensive cars.” “The Chevy Beretta has sleek styling.” “The sporty Renault Alliance Convertible”

“Geeze, did they have no standards for cars at the time?” asked Dirk.

After a little more exploring the computer room, the explorers decided to leave and go to the next destination.

“My old house?” asked Melissa.

“Let’s do it.” said Philip.