Free Wild Inferno by Sandi Ault

and twenty-five–kilovolt power line that feeds Pagosa; if that goes down, Pagosa will be dark.”
    Morella sighed heavily. “You said something about letting this fire burn. You’re not going to do that, are you?”
    Roy looked him right in the eye. “I’m gonna try like hell not to, but we’re talking about a force of nature over which I truly have no control, Dr. Morella.”
    â€œBut the Lunar Standstill—it only happens every eighteen point six years. In a little over two days, the new moon will rise between the spires. We have about forty people up there—elders, spiritual leaders, indigenous people of the Southwest—preparing for the event. They’ve come from all over just to be here for it. I didn’t get to brief you and your staff at the afternoon meeting because there were more urgent—”
    Roy held up his index finger to interrupt. “I know about the Native Americans up at Chimney Rock. The Bureau of Indian Affairs talked to me about it. I’m going to try my best, but if we can’t get this fire under control, the Archuleta County Sheriff’s Office is going to go up there and evacuate them. That’s for their own safety, Lunar Standstill or not.”
    Steve Morella raised his hands, palms upward in resignation. “Is there any good news at all?”
    Roy gave a wry grin. “Two things. One, we found all the Three-Pebs, and they’re in the burn unit in Albuquerque. Even the one Jamaica found earlier today is still hanging in there. And two, we got plenty of water around here for the chopper to dip from. Sometimes that’s a real problem, but there’s the Piedra River, two creeks, a couple little ponds, and Capote Lake on the other side of Chimney Rock. But it ain’t gonna be enough with just one chopper doing all the work.”
    Morella said, “That is good news about the hotshots.”
    â€œThe bad news, though, is that the northern head of this fire is still running hot and strong, and it’s after nine o’clock. Most of the time, a fire will make a good run in the afternoon, and then she’ll lay down at night. We’ll just have to see what she does as the night goes on. If we can get crews in to flank this baby, we’ll want to take one of your field people with every crew, have them advise the firefighters so we don’t disrupt any archaeological sites.”
    â€œThat’s what I’m here for. I have a group of summer research assistants that will be ready first thing tomorrow. But we also came to take your staff up to the top of Chimney Rock and explain to you about the Lunar Standstill,” the archaeologist said. “I think if you understood the importance—”
    â€œJamaica,” the Boss interrupted, looking at me, “you can do that in the morning after briefing. Go, and then come back and give us the high points.”
    â€œWhere am I going?” I asked.
    â€œUp on top of the ridge at Chimney Rock, right next to the two stone pillars,” Morella answered. “There’s a historic fire tower up there.”

11
The Story of Two Brothers
    Wednesday, 2200 Hours
    I had a little time to wait before the debriefing, so I decided to check on the native Puebloans before I left off my duties for the night. I drove up the steep, curving road to the parking lot on top in the dark, and parked in the same place on the side of the road. As soon as I got out of the Jeep, Mountain came bounding toward me. I planted my feet and got ready. He slammed right into me, almost knocking me over, and started his usual anxiety-driven circling and vocalizing, his tail thwacking me and thumping into the side of the car. I knelt down to put myself at eye level and I held and stroked him. I put my arm around his neck and pressed my face into the side of his. He huffed a few times, as if he couldn’t get enough air, whimpered a little, and then finally began to settle