Japan Beyond Tragedy by Vindal Vandakoff - HTML preview

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Chapter Thirteen

The prime minister entered the control room flanked by an entourage of aides. The inside

was dim, slats of the ceiling dangled precariously, and the main console was cluttered

with car batteries the workers had hooked up so they could read the instruments.

The control room workers stood in a line and bowed.

“Bring me up-to-date with the situation,” he ordered Suzuki.

“Radioactive steam is leaking in to Reactor Building One. We think it is in partial

meltdown.”

“What?’

Suzuki went on. “Reactors Five and Six have one remaining backup generator

and were shut down for maintenance before the earthquake. They will most likely

maintain cold shutdown. Reactor Three has lost emergency battery power, and the top of

the fuel rods are exposed and the pressure is rising. Reactor Two’s pressure is also rising,

but data is unclear about what is actually happening there. Reactor Four was shut down

for maintenance, and there are no fuel rods inside the reactor; however, the spent fuel pool

cooling system is out, and the temperature of coolant water is increasing.

“Prime Minister,” broke in Kenichi. “I think Reactor One has almost completely

melted down.”

“How are you so certain?” questioned the prime minister.

“We are getting radiation readings 1,000 times above normal levels.”

The prime minister’s face hardened. “How can that be?”

Kenichi looked at Suzuki, and Suzuki nodded for him to continue. “The

containment vessels for Reactors One and Three have sustained damage due to the quake.

We suspect both have large cracks allowing radiation to escape.”

The prime minister stood speechless for a moment and then asked, “But how is

the steam escaping the reactor vessel?”

Suzuki explained about the test done at the Brunswick plant in North Carolina.

“What is the protocol for this situation?”

Kenichi and Suzuki looked at each other.

“What is the protocol?” insisted the prime minister.

Kenichi looked straight into the prime minister’s eyes. “There isn’t one,” he said

dryly.

“What do you mean?” The prime minister’s tone was one of disbelief.

“We never anticipated such a situation would occur. We were never prepared to

have a total power loss from the grid as well as the backup generators—not all at the same

time.”

“There must be something you can do?” he asked disbelievingly.

“If we get power restored from the grid within today, or some alternative power,

we stand a chance of keeping the situation under control. We need to cool the reactors to

one hundred degrees; at the moment Reactor One’s temperature is around 2,800 degrees.

If we don’t cool them, they will melt down, and you could have a China Syndrome on

your hands.”

The prime minister turned to one of his aides. “What’s the update for restoring

power to the grid?”

“At least three days.”

“Alternative power source?” the prime minister asked.

“There are mobile power units on the way from Tokyo, but the roads are badly

damaged, making transportation slow,” he replied.

The prime minister looked back at Suzuki and Kenichi. “Is there no other

option?”

“Prime Minister, there is one other option,” said Kenichi.

Suzuki looked at Kenichi surprised.

“Explain,” said the prime minister.

“If we could get some fire engines, we could pump water into the reactors and

control the situation until power is restored.”

The prime minister turned to one of his aides. “Get some big machinery to clear

the road, and order all fire engines from the surrounding townships here immediately.”

The prime minister looked back at Kenichi. “How many fire engines do you need?”

“At least twenty.”

The prime minister turned back to his aide. “Order the Tokyo Fire Department to

send thirty trucks.”

The aide took out his phone and began relaying the orders.

“Prime Minister,” said Kenichi. He knew his next words would not be received

with enthusiasm. “There is one other problem.”

“Go on,” said the prime minister.

“Most of the fresh water that we use to cool the reactors was destroyed by the

tsunami. It will run out by this afternoon. We will then have no choice but to inject

seawater into the reactors.”

The prime minister looked at him befuddled.

Suzuki, seeing the confusion on the prime minister’s face and knowing exactly

what Kenichi meant, explained. “Mr. Prime Minister, if we inject seawater into the

reactors, the water will render them inoperable in the future. They will have to be

decommissioned and the plant shut down permanently.”

The prime minister was silent for a moment while he weighed the consequences;

he knew the loss of the power station would cause a shortage of electricity—something

Japan didn’t need when its economy was just recovering from the recent world economic

crisis. “I will get back to you about that. I’ll need to discuss it with the heads of TEPCO

first.”

“Mr. Prime Minister, I recommend that we expand the evacuation zone to at least

fifty kilometers. And I also recommend that we vent the excess pressure from the Number

One reactor and reactor building into the atmosphere. The risk of a hydrogen explosion is

imminent,” said Kenichi soberly.

“The evacuation zone will stay the same. I don’t want to cause any unnecessary

panic.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Prime Minister, but you are putting the people in the

surrounding areas at unnecessary risk,” said Kenichi.

“I will review the evacuation zone this afternoon after the freshwater injection is

done.”

Kenichi couldn’t believe his ears. “And the venting?”

“I want to tour the plant before I make a decision. I want to survey the damage,”

replied the prime minister.

Kenichi and Suzuki looked at each other in disbelief.

“We need to vent before the pressure increases anymore. The increase in

pressure could cause a malfunction of the venting system,” said Kenichi.

The prime minister’s eyes bore into Kenichi. “Did I not make myself clear? I

want to tour the plant and survey the damage.”

“This way, Mr. Prime Minister,” said Suzuki, leading him out of the control

room.

Kenichi watched them leave and cursed the bureaucratic bullshit.

**

Mackeller stared down at his copilot. Bandages covered most of his face.

“He’s stable,” said the woman who had translated for him at the airport the

previous night.

Mackeller turned and faced her. “What’s your name?”

“Riona,” she replied.

“Nice name,” he said, smiling.

She blushed and a slight smile touched her lips.

Mackeller noticed her reaction, noticed her pretty face; her long, black silky hair

and the athletic body. “Has my base contacted you yet?”

Her blush immediately disappeared. “Yes, they said that all choppers are on

missions, ferrying supplies to the tsunami victims and that they will send the first

available chopper.”

“Did they say what time?”

“Yes, after 1800 hours.”

Mackeller looked at his watch, eight-thirty. “Damn!” he cursed under his breath.

He wanted to get back in the air and continue the supply runs.

“Are you hungry?” asked Riona.

“Yes,” he said.

A few minutes later, he sat in the kitchen with a bowl of hot noodles in front of

him. “What is happening at the nuclear power plant?”

“It’s under control. The government said there’s nothing to worry about,” she

replied matter-of-factly.

Mackeller put down his chopsticks and his gaze met hers. “Do you really believe

your government?”

Her eyebrows rose. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Mackeller slurped some noodles into his mouth and then stared her straight in the

eyes. “Because I have been in two wars, Afghanistan and Iraq. Both wars were started by

my government’s lies. The Afghan war was on the pretext that the Taliban, who my

country created to fight the Russians, was harboring the Al-Qaeda. The Iraq war was on

the pretext that that country had weapons of mass destruction—both blatant lies.”

She looked at him not knowing what to say.

He shoveled some more noodles into his mouth and then said. “What? You don’t

believe me? You think the government never lies?” He put his chopsticks on his bowl and

let out a short laugh. “That’s like saying politicians never lie!”

“The Japanese government is different. They wouldn’t lie to us,” she said

strongly.

Mackeller could sense the pride in her voice, but disregarded it. “Have they told

you the plant is leaking?”

“It’s not leaking. The ten-kilometer evacuation zone is just a precautionary

measure. They said there is no immediate risk and there’s nothing to worry about.”

No immediate risk, he thought. That’s what his own government had told the

ground troops in Iraq. No immediate health risks from the depleted uranium shells—a few

years later the soldiers began to get sick. “My command has detected high levels of

radiation around the plant. We were told to stay well clear of the plant.”

“That can’t be right,” she said, shaking her head. “They would have informed

us.”

Mackeller gulped down some more noodles. He thought about telling her about

his dream, but decided against it as she might think the bump on the head had made him

loopy. “Can I contact my base? I’ll reconfirm it for you.”

“Sure,” she said, taking out an emergency sat-phone and dialing the number. She

handed him the phone.

He pressed the speaker button. “Hello, this is Captain Mackeller, Black Hawk

One.”

“Morning sir. Did you receive the message I left?” came the voice at the other

end.

“Yes, thank you. Could you give me an update on the situation at the Fukushima

nuclear power plant?”

“Sure. Two drones have been sent to within ten kilometers of the plant and have

detected unusually high radiation levels, some a hundred times the normal level.”

“What’s the Japanese government’s response to this?”

“They said it’s a minor leak and there is no immediate health risk—nothing to

worry about. They say they have the situation under control.”

“Thank you.” He hung up and looked at the expression of disbelief on Riona’s

face. “Do you believe me now?”

There was a long silence and then she said. “No! It can’t be true. Your

measurements must be wrong. My government says it’s under control. They wouldn’t lie

to us.”

He heard urgency in her voice—urgency on the verge of panic.

**

Yukino and Taka sat next to the fire with blankets around them.

“I should try to get back to my aunt’s house,” said Yukino, sipping some tea.

“She must be worried.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” replied Taka. He looked up and saw snowflakes

drifting down through the branches. “Let’s wait until it stops snowing.”

A rustle went through the trees sending a flurry of snow down. She brushed the

snow from her face. “Good idea.” She wasn’t it any hurry to leave the warmth of the fire.

**

Kenichi cursed as he watched the prime minister’s helicopter lift off and head for Tokyo.

He had been at the plant for over an hour and the loss of time was cutting it too close.

Why hadn’t he just stayed in Tokyo, he thought. He knows nothing about a nuclear power

station. “Open the vents in Reactor One,” he ordered.

“Vents system not responding,” called one of the operators.

“Damn!” cursed Kenichi.

**

Kamata’s boat moved slowly through the entrance of the Otsuchi Bay. Debris floated

everywhere. His eyes peered from his leathery face for anything that might tangle in his

propeller. He had spent the morning searching for survivors but had only recovered

several dead bodies, which lay in the stern.

**

Sachie staggered through the door. Her eyes met her grandfather’s, and there was no need

for words. He stood from the chair and gave her a hug.

“I tried. I looked everywhere,” she sobbed.

“It’s all right. I know Yukino will come home sometime soon,” he said, trying to

comfort her.

She looked up into his eyes. “Do you really think so?”

“I’m positive,” he replied. His voice gave away no uncertainty.

She smiled and nestled her face in his chest.

Kumiko appeared in the doorway, and her father put his finger to his lips.

Kumiko left them there for a few minutes and then brought a blanket and wrapped it

around Sachie. “Here, change into these dry clothes.”

Suddenly, the house shook violently. The clock on the wall crashed to the floor

and exploded into pieces. Kumiko ran to the other room, but a thunderous force flung her

against the wall. She got up and ran to her husband’s bedside, just as a cabinet toppled

over, smashing the ornaments on top to pieces. Sachie clung to her grandfather. Another

surge of energy tore through the house, and part of the ceiling fell down next to them—

and then silence.

“That was a big one,” said Sachie’s grandfather.

Sachie let go of him. “How long will the aftershocks last?”

“Probably for months.”

Sachie caught sight of the body that was covered in the living room. “Who is

that?”

“Mrs. Yagi. Your mother rescued her, but she died of hypothermia.”

Sachie walked over to the Buddhist alter, knelt down, and lit a stick of incense

and then prayed for her soul.

**

Kenichi and Suzuki stood in front of the workers at the Daiichi plant.

“The situation is this,” said Suzuki, looking around at his men. “We need to vent

some of the steam out of Reactor Building One. Firstly, there is the risk of a hydrogen

explosion. Secondly, we need to inject more water into the reactor to cool it, which means

we will be forced to vent the reactor once the steam pressure increases inside the reactor.”

He stopped and looked at the men. There was silence. “The venting system is inoperable

due to loss of power; we need to manually open the vents.” He paused. Silence. He

sensed the men already knew his next words. “I need six groups of six volunteers. You’ll

be working in ten-minute shifts.”

To his surprise all of the hands rose, even Kenichi’s.

“Before you volunteer, you must consider that you’ll be exposed to massive

amounts of radiation.”

The hands stayed in the air.

Suzuki looked at Kenichi and his men who stood with their hands raised. He

was taken aback by his men’s bravery. He wondered if TEPCO’s board of directors, who

sat snuggly in Tokyo, would be so willing to risk their lives.

“May I suggest something?” asked Kenichi.

“Yes,” said Suzuki.

“I suggest we select by age. The older men who have already had children

should do the work first.”

“I agree.” Suzuki turned to his men again. “Please form six groups of six,

starting from the oldest.”

Kenichi walked to the men and began to organize the groups. A few minutes

later six men, in six lines, stood in front of Suzuki.

“I will lead the first group to survey the condition of the vents,” said Kenichi.

Suzuki was about to oppose but stopped short. He knew he needed Kenichi’s

expertise to make sure the job was done properly. “Don’t stay over your maximum

exposure time.” He bowed deeply and the men returned his bow.

Kenichi led them out of the room.

Suzuki’s phone rang and he took it out of his pocket and answered. “The fire

engines are here,” said the voice at the other end.

“I’ll send down some men to show them where to connect their hoses.”

**

Tomo staggered through the remains of Kamaishi City. The buildings had been gutted and

the streets piled with cars, fishing trawlers, broken houses and piles of twisted metal and

broken wood. People moved like ghosts among the wreckage in search of survivors. “I

must find Sachie,” he muttered. An icy wind tore through him and snow began to fall. He

wrapped his arms around his chest and trudged on until he came to a slope where the

tsunami hadn’t reached. He headed up the road passing groups of people huddled around

makeshift fires—many too scared to go indoors because of the continuous aftershocks.

“Come warm yourself,” shouted an old man.

“I need to get back to Otsuchi,” replied Tomo.

The lower road is out but the new toll road is still open,” shouted back the man.

“Thank you,” replied Tomo, bowing.

Thirty minutes later, he reached the toll road but it was deserted. He started

walking towards the tunnel when a truck came along and stopped. A young man, wearing

a black baseball cap and sunglasses leaned out the window. “Going to Otsuchi?”

“Yes,” replied Tomo, brushing the snow off him.

“Get in. That’s where I’m going.”

“Thank you.” Tomo went around to the other side and climbed in.

**

Kenichi and his team of five men stopped outside Reactor Building One. He checked his

dosimeter; it showed the radiation level was around 1,000 times higher than usual. “We

have only five minutes of exposure time left,” he said.

His men nodded and stared at him from behind their respirator masks, their eyes

wide and their bodies pumping with adrenaline.

“Let’s open as many vents as we can and get out,” he said.

They entered and climbed the series of catwalks to the top of the building. Below

he could see the spent fuel pool; hundreds of spent fuel rods stood in the crystal clear

water. Beneath the pool was the reactor’s containment vessel and a labyrinth of piping.

Condensation started to form on Kenichi’s mask. “Damn!” he cursed to himself and then

began to search the building. He hadn’t been able to see it when they entered; on the far

side of the containment vessel steam spurted from a crack.

Kenichi checked his dosimeter; it had almost reached maximum level .

“Open as many vents as you can,” he ordered his men.

A few minutes later, his dosimeter had maxed out, and he ordered his men out.

Once outside the building, he ordered his men to go back to the control room

while he went to check on the fire engines.

A few minutes later, he walked around the corner of the turbine building and

saw, to his disbelief, a group of firemen at work without protective clothing.

He strode up to the man who he guessed was the chief fireman. “You need to get

your men suited up in protective gear.”

The man, who looked around fifty, put down the spanner he was using. “We

don’t have enough time.”

Kenichi pointed to his dosimeter. “You and your men are being exposed to a

hundred times the normal level.”

The fireman shrugged. “We’re almost finished.”

Kenichi knew whatever he said wouldn’t deter these brave men. They were on a

mission to save the Japanese people and would sacrifice themselves gallantly if it would

save lives.

“Let me help,” said Kenichi.

“Help them connect that hose,” he said, pointing to the two men at the rear of the

truck.

Kenichi went over to the two young men. There wasn’t the slightest sign of fear

in their eyes, only determination.

He helped them connect the hose.

“OK, we’re all done,” said the fire chief.

“You need to get your men out,” said Kenichi.

The fire chief looked hard at Kenichi. “Who’s going to operate the pumps?”

Kenichi knew he was right. “Is there another fire crew who can relieve you?”

The chief nodded. “Yes, they’re on standby outside the plant. But I want to make

sure everything is right before we change.”

Kenichi nodded his agreement and then took out his phone and dialed.

“Suzuki speaking.”

“The fire engines are ready to pump water into Reactor One,” said Kenichi.

“Have you vented?”

“Only a little. The radiation level was too high. It’s too dangerous to send anyone

back in. The radiation level is thousands of times the normal level. There is a crack in the

containment vessel and steam is spewing out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

There was silence at the other end. Both men knew it was a Catch-22 situation. If

they didn’t pump water into the reactor and cool the fuel rods, they risked a full

meltdown. On the other hand, if they injected water into the reactor, more radioactive

steam and hydrogen would escape into the reactor building, increasing the chances of an

explosion. “Begin injecting water,” said Suzuki.

“Are you sure?” questioned Kenichi.

“Yes, we’ll have to try to restore power to the venting system.”

Kenichi thought for a moment. “The venting system doesn’t need that much

power. If we could get some industrial batteries, we could rig them up and open the

vents.”

“Where are we supposed to get them?” asked Suzuki.

Kenichi thought again. He was actually surprised how calm he was considering

the bizarre circumstances. “The Internet. Put out a worldwide plea for batteries over the

net.”

“On it now!” replied Suzuki and hung up.

Kenichi pocketed his phone. “Begin the pumping,” he ordered the fire chief.

The chief hit the switches, and the pumps roared into action.

Thirty minutes later Kenichi was back in the control room. He tried to analyze the

precarious situation they were in. Why don’t we have emergency batteries or mobile

power units in a TEPCO warehouse in Tokyo ready to fly in by helicopter? Why hasn’t

TEPCO planned for this scenario? He ran his fingers through his hair. The Americans.

The thought jumped into his mind. They have bases all over Japan; they surely have

mobile power units that they use in war. He got up and went into Suzuki’s office.

“Excuse me, sir, but has anyone approached the US military? They must have batteries

and mobile power units.”

Suzuki looked up and sighed. “I made that request to the prime minister when he

was here. He refused to get the Americans involved.”

“Why?”

“He said he wanted to show the world that Japan could handle the situation

alone.”

A look of disbelief washed over Kenichi’s face. “We need whatever help we can

get. Forget about losing face.”

“I know, but the prime minister has the final say.”

No words came to Kenichi’s lips; he just stood staring at Suzuki.

“What’s the update on Reactor One?” asked Suzuki, breaking the silence.

“Water is being injected, but the temperature gauges are inoperable, so we can

only guess and hope the reactor is cooling.”

“I see,” said Suzuki.

“Have you put out the request for batteries over the Internet?”

“Yes, but there hasn’t been any reply.”

Kenichi thought for a moment. All they really needed were car batteries. If they

had enough car batteries they could hook them up and open the vents. “Sir, we could use

car batteries to open the vents.”

“We’ve taken all the batteries from the cars that weren’t destroyed by the tsunami

for the control room,” replied Suzuki.

“Send some men into town to get some more.”

“Organize it,” said Suzuki.

Kenichi returned to the control room and organized three me