Deep Fathom

“Y-Yes,” Karen fought to keep her voice from breaking. She hated the thought of losing contact with her friends.



“Gabriel will keep monitoring this channel afterward,” Miyuki said. “Use his code if you want to speak to us.”



Jack leaned nearer, his face filling the little screen. “Be careful, Karen. David is an ass, but he’s no fool.”



“I know.”



They stared at one another for an extra breath. Jack kissed his fingers and pressed them against the screen. “I’ll get you out of there.”



Before she could answer, the phone line switched off and the video square vanished. Replacing it was a colored bar, filling slowly with the incoming data stream. She directed the information to a DVD recorder. Alone, she waited for the file to be transmitted.



A voice spoke off to the side. “What are you doing?”



Karen turned. David was climbing up from the lower deck. He was supposed to be out in the Perseus, overseeing the demolition team. He must have returned early.



Barefoot and in a wet suit, he stepped from the ladder and moved toward her. “I told Cortez to keep someone with you at all times. What are you doing here unattended?”



She fixed a bland expression on her face. Out of the corner of her eye she watched the colored bar fill slowly. “I gave Cortez what you wanted. The key to the ancient script. They’re researching it and didn’t want my help.”



He moved to her side.



Karen twisted around, blocking the view of the data bar with her elbow.



He glanced at the screen, then back at her. His eyes narrowed. “If you’re not needed, you should be confined to your quarters.” He grabbed her by the shoulder. “Come with me.”



He yanked her to her feet. She dared not even glance back at the screen, lest it draw his attention. “Why confine me?” she asked boldly, stepping in front of him, blocking his view. “Where am I going to go?”



David scowled. “Because those were my orders. No one goes against them. Not even Cortez.”



“To hell with—”



The back of his hand struck her face, hard, knocking her to the side. Caught by surprise, Karen gasped and almost fell to one knee. She grabbed her chair to keep upright.



“No one questions my orders,” he said thickly. Rubbing the back of his hand, his eyes flicked to the computer monitor.



Karen winced. Oh, God…She turned to the screen.



It was mercifully empty. The transmission had been completed.



She straightened with relief.



David glanced along the curved row of labs, clearly suspicious, looking for some evidence of a foul plan. She saw his nostrils flaring, scenting the air like a bloodhound, before he whipped back toward her.



Karen inadvertently shied away.



He leaned near her. “I can smell Kirkland on you, bitch. I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’ll find out.”



A cold chill slithered up her back.



He snatched her by the elbow, fingers digging hard. “Now let’s find the others. It’s time they were taught a thing or two about military protocol.”



As she was pulled away she glanced at the empty workstation. Hidden on a little silver disk over there were the answers to everything—ancient mysteries, the origin of the universe, even the fate of the world. She had to find a way to place it in the hands of someone who could help. But how?



8:12 P.M., Deep Fathom



Jack sat on a stool in the geology lab. Charlie worked at his computer, reviewing his data. Both were searching for answers. Jack struggled to think, but Karen’s face, bruised and scared, kept appearing in his head, distracting him. He closed his eyes. “How ’bout if we tried short-circuiting the damn thing?”



“What?” Charlie asked.



“You said the deposit acts like some electromagnetic battery. What if we, I don’t know, overloaded it or something.”



Charlie turned from his computer, frowning tiredly. “That would only accelerate—” The geologist’s frown deepened. Jack could practically see the calculations running in the man’s head.



“Do you think it might work?”



His eyes focused back on Jack. “No, not at all. But you’ve given me an idea.” He stood, crossed to the worktable and scrounged through his gadgetry. In a few moments Charlie had a spare marine battery hooked to a meter.



“What are you doing?” Jack asked.



“Running a little experiment.” He lifted the battery’s leads and connected them to the steel clamps holding the crystal star. He put on one of Robert’s night vision masks. “Can you hit the lights?”



Jack slid off his stool and flicked the switch. In the dark cabin, he heard Charlie shuffling around. Then he heard a tiny snap of electricity. A blue arc zapped between the battery’s leads, painfully bright in the dark. The crystal artifact lit up like a real star.



The radiant light fractured into a spectrum of colors. Jack remembered a similar sight—when the electromagnet used to haul up sections of Air Force One had brushed too near the pillar. The spire had glowed with the same brightness.



As he watched, the star grew brighter and brighter. He raised a hand to shield his eyes. Charlie was bent over the star, flicking his gaze between it and the meter. One hand turned a dial. The hum of the battery grew louder.



“Charlie—”



“Hush.” He twisted the dial more.



The star began to rise from the table, floating a few inches off the surface. Its light was almost too intense. An electric tingling swept through the air. The small hairs began to dance on Jack’s arms, and the fillings in his teeth began to ache in his jaw. It was like being back in the sub.



His eyes were drawn to a wall clock, hanging above the experiment. The second hand was running in the wrong direction.



“Amazing,” Charlie mumbled, still bent over the floating star.



Then a loud crack exploded in the small space. Darkness fell over the room. Jack heard the crystal star drop back to the tabletop with a clatter.



“Get the lights,” Charlie ordered.



Jack rubbed the tingling from his arms, then flipped the switch. “What were you doing?”



Using tongs, Charlie picked up the star. The steel clamps holding it glowed hot. “Hmm…interesting…”



“What?”



The geologist tilted the star for Jack to see. Within the clamps, the crystal had cracked in half.



“What does it mean?” Jack asked.



Charlie looked up. “I’m not sure yet.”



8:56 P.M., Neptune base



Karen tried not to cry. She sat on a narrow cot in a cabin no larger than a half bath. What was she going to do? David had gathered the entire crew of the station in the dining room. He spent fifteen minutes browbeating them all. One of the scientists made the mistake of asking a simple question. For his impudence, David shattered his nose with a sudden blow. The room had grown deathly silent afterward. David had proven his point. He was the master here. After his demonstration, he stormed out with Karen in tow.



She soon found herself locked in this cabin. It all seemed impossible, hopeless. Over the past two days, she had hardly slept at all. She was sore, exhausted, and drained.



She rested her face in her hands. She couldn’t do this alone.



As a sob welled up from deep inside, a soft knock sounded on her door. “Dr. Grace?”



She sat up, wary. “Who is it?”



“It’s Dr. Cortez. May I come in?”



Karen almost choked with relief. “Of course.”



She stood as she heard the key in the lock. The older scientist slipped in and closed the door behind him. “I’m sorry to disturb you so late.”



“No, it’s okay. I can use the company.” She allowed the relief to ring in her voice.



“He’s one scary bastard, isn’t he? I should never have left you alone down there. I wasn’t thinking. I was too excited about your discovery of the connection to the Rapa Nui script.”



Karen sat down. She waved him to the sole stool. “It wasn’t your fault.”



“Well, after this is over, I’m filing a formal complaint.”



She nodded, allowing him the fantasy that it would have any impact. Spangler was operating under the guise of the highest office in the nation. He could act with full impunity.



Cortez continued, “I came here to see if you could help us. We’re still having trouble deciphering these glyphs.”



Karen swallowed. If there was to be any hope, it was time to start trusting someone else. No more games. “Dr. Cortez, I haven’t been totally honest.”



“What do you mean?”



“I possess the full translation. Not only of the pillar’s inscription, but additional texts written at the time of the obelisk’s discovery.”



Cortez sat stunned, silent, then tried to talk. “I don’t…how could…but when…?”



“I have information I must get to someone in authority,” Karen said. “Someone out of Spangler’s chain of command.”



“Information about what?”



“About the end of the world.”



Cortez frowned, looking doubtful.



Karen stood. “I know how it must sound. But get me to the workstation on Level 2, and I’ll get you proof.”



Still, he hesitated.



Karen stared him down. “After tonight’s demonstration, who are you willing to trust more, Spangler or me?”



Cortez bowed his head for a moment, then pushed off his stool. “That’s no contest. C’mon, the commander is bunked out in his cabin, but his second-in-command is patrolling. Stick to my side. As long as you’re with me, we should be okay.” He opened the door.



Karen followed him out. Though there was no ban on her being free under supervision, it still felt like a prison break. Both crept silently through the living quarters, peeking around corners, holding their breath. No one was around.



They got to the ladder heading down to the lab level, and Cortez went first. He signaled the all clear for her to follow. As she climbed, the interlevel hatch sealed with a snug hiss. Silently, they worked around the ring of labs to the tiny station assigned to her.