Текст книги "Deep Fathom"

Автор книги: James Rollins

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Текущая страница: 25 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

“I’ll try, but it’ll be difficult. Lieutenant Rolfe is below assisting in the launch of the next sub. I feigned an urgent need to go to the bathroom to make this call.” She checked her watch. “And I’m running out of time. I should be getting back down there.”

“Then let me patch you through to Jack.” Charlie turned to Miyuki.

The professor hit a button and spoke aloud. “Gabriel, can you patch this line to the Nautilus.”

A pause. “I am afraid I cannot comply. There appears to be some sort of interference.”

Karen’s brows knit with worry, then her image flickered, giving way to static, which ate the rest of the transmission.

“Gabriel, get her back!” Charlie ordered.

“I am afraid I cannot comply. There appears to be some sort of interference.”

Before Charlie could ask for clarification, the sound of someone running down the stairs drew his attention.

Robert’s voice came over the tiny intercom speakers, “We’ve got—”

“Company,” Kendall McMillan finished as he burst into the room. “Two ships, military, circling around from both sides of the island.”

They all moved toward the stairs except Miyuki, who remained at her computer, her fingers flying over the keyboard. “I’m not abandoning Karen,” she called to him. “I’ll keep trying to reach her, let her know what’s happening.”

Charlie nodded. “Do your best. But if we’re boarded, hide that computer. It may be all that stands between us and the end of the world.”

He climbed to the stern deck of the Fathomand watched a long ship sweep around the southern coast of their little islet.

An air horn blared from its deck, followed by a message. “Prepare to be boarded! Any resistance will be met with deadly force!”

McMillan stared. “What are we going to do?”

“We have no choice,” Charlie said. “Not this time. We surrender.”

8:14 A.M., Neptune base

Karen tried typing in Gabriel’s address again. Still no answer. Checking her watch, she pushed out of her seat. She could delay no longer without risking suspicion. She frowned one last time at the computer. The abrupt end to her conversation with the Deep Fathomthreatened to send her into a panic.

Crossing to Level 2’s ladder, she climbed down, her mind still on the communication glitch. As she reached a leg down to the next rung, her ankle was grabbed and yanked.

She squawked and fell from the ladder.

Rolfe caught her, clamping her upper arm. “What took you so long?”

Karen swallowed, avoiding his accusing stare. She forced a tremor into her voice; not all of it was feigned. “It…it’s…”

“It’s what?”

She glared at him. “It’s my time of the month, if you must know!”

Rolfe’s face grew a shade more ruddy. It seemed even these tough SEAL-trained assassins did not care to know about such fine womanly details. “Okay then, but stick by my side. We’re just about to launch the last shuttle to the surface.”

Karen did not like the sound of that. Last shuttle…What about her?

Rolfe led her to the docking bay’s control station. He gazed through the window, then spoke into the thin-poled mike. “All set, Argus?”

Karen peeked through the window. The pilot and the last two scientists, both crammed into the rear passenger compartment, were locked into the sub.

“Systems green. Ready for launch,” the pilot radioed.

“Pressurizing.” Rolfe poked a large blue button, initiating the docking bay system.

Karen watched. As soon as the pressures equalized, the outlet pipes opened and water poured into the bay, quickly swallowing up the sub. She studied it all intently. Without Dr. Cortez here, she might need to do this herself.

All morning long she had dogged Rolfe’s steps, learning by quiet observation how the base operated. It was all user-friendly, thanks mostly to this compact control station. A bank of four monitors showed external views from all around the station. An additional two monitors for the ROV robots rested above a pair of joysticks. The remainder of the panel was devoted to the docking bay itself.

She watched the seawater level rise past the tiny porthole observation window. As the bay filled, a glint of metal caught her eye. Something small floated loose in the docking space. She dismissed it as some mislaid tool and returned her focus to the sub. Across the bay, the pilot tested the sub’s thrusters, floating up from the deck.

But again the glint drew her eye. It was the same object, whirling past the tiny window now.

Leaning closer, Karen recognized the bit of flotsam.

A pair of eyeglasses. Its lenses broken, its frame twisted and bent.

She covered a gasp with a hand over her mouth.

8:15 A.M., Nautilus

Hidden in a cloud of silt, Jack edged his sub along the base of the cliff, clinging under a lip of rock to diminish his sonar shadow to the sub above. He feathered his pedals with the lightest touches, trying to move no faster than the current. He dared not move any quicker, lest he raise a wake trail in the cloud and reveal his position. Overhead, the glow of the Perseus’s spotlight swept past in a crisscrossing pattern, searching, waiting for the silt to settle.

Jack knew he had to be gone before that happened.

Still, he forced himself to maintain a snail’s pace, flying the sub blind, no lights, guided by sonar alone. He edged forward. His goal: a side canyon up ahead. He had no idea where it led or if it was a blind alley, but knew he had to be out of the main channel before the cloud dissipated.

Then a voice blared from his radio earpiece. “I know you’re down there, Kirkland. You can’t hide forever.”

Spangler…great…no surprise there.

Jack remained silent, playing dead.

“I have your woman trapped at the sea base, and your ship impounded. Show yourself and I’ll let the others live.”

Jack resisted the urge to laugh. Sure you will.

The silence stretched. David’s voice returned again, growing more angry. “Would you like me to teach Professor Grace a few lessons in your absence? Perhaps hear her screams as Lieutenant Rolfe rapes her?”

Jack clenched his hands into fists but remained silent. Revealing himself would hurt Karen more than it would help. His best chance lay in stealth.

Ahead, a side canyon finally opened on the right. Jack guided the Nautilusinto the narrow cut. He juiced the thrusters. Sonar feed began to fill the computer navigation screen. He sighed in relief. The side canyon was not a dead end. It wound far, branching and dividing.

Anxious, he moved more swiftly. He raced along the deep crack. Walls flashed past. He needed time and distance to shake the bastard.

“Where you going, Jack?” Lights flared behind him.

Jumping, Jack craned around. Damn it…

The Perseusswept down into the slot canyon after him, diving with murderous intent.

Staring behind him, Jack realized his error. A dusty spray of silt trailed behind the sub’s tail, coughed up from the seabed floor by his passage. A clear trail. A stupid mistake.

Giving up any pretense of hiding, he speared on his lamplight and floored the pedals. The Nautilusshot up, corkscrewing out of the canyon.

As he spun, a minitorpedo zipped past the sub’s dome, narrowly missing his vessel. To the left, a brief explosion flared as the torpedo struck a seamount, its thunder echoing through his hydrophones.

Jack tilted his sub into a steep dive, riding the shockwave, and dropped into a neighboring canyon. Flattening out, the bottom of his sub scraped through the silt, casting up a cloud.

What had betrayed him a moment ago could save him now. He thumbed off his lamp and coasted without thrusters, vanishing into the widening cloud of sand and silt.

He heard David over the radio, swearing. In David’s anxiousness to pursue him, he had forgotten his radio line was still open. Jack did not correct this mistake. He eavesdropped. “Goddamn you, Kirkland. I’ll see you die before this day is out.”

Jack grinned. Keep trying, asshole.He raced down the chute, gliding around an outcropping. A sonar warning chimed. The canyon ended in a flat cliff face only twenty yards away.

“Oh, shit…” He flung the thrusters in reverse, earning a high-pitched whine of protest, and flung the nose of the sub straight up. But it wasn’t enough to halt his momentum. The bottom of the Nautilusstruck the wall hard.

Jarred forward, the belts of his harness dug into his shoulders. He forced himself back and worked the thrusters, climbing straight up the wall.

A new warning rang from his computer. His batteries were running low.

“Great…just great…”

Clearing the wall, Jack leveled out and sped along the mount’s summit. He prayed his power lasted long enough. Sensing movement on his left, he turned and was blinded by a shaft of light.

The Perseusflew out of a nearby canyon, straight at him.

Rather than being rammed broadside, Jack rolled the sub, taking the collision on his undercarriage. The Nautilusjolted violently. Struck at the stern, Jack’s sub spun. He struggled to right himself, to no avail. The sub struck the seamount, burying its nose in the thick silt.

Sweating, ears ringing, he fought the thrusters to tug himself out.

With a groan of stressed metal, the Nautiluspopped free.

As he swung his sub upright, he peripherally saw the Perseusswinging in a tight loop, its torpedo array swiveling in his direction.

Time to go!

He slammed the foot pedals. Thrusters whined. The sub rumbled and tremored but refused to move. His front thruster assembly was jammed with sand. “C’mon, c’mon…”

He slammed the sub into reverse, blowing clear the choked props.

The Perseussped closer, determined not to miss this time. “Ready to die, Kirkland?”

Free of debris, Jack goosed his thrusters. With no time to escape, he aimed straight for his adversary, playing a risky game of chicken, trusting in David’s cowardice. An explosion too close would threaten David’s own sub.

He floored the foot pedals and streaked forward.

Rather than shying, the Perseusremained on course.

Jack flicked on his xenon lamp. Light lanced out to stab the other sub, blinding its pilot.

At the last moment Spangler angled away.

Jack flashed under the enemy sub. He caught a quick glimpse of David sprawled on his belly in his cigar-shaped glass pod. Then the Perseuswas gone.

Watching it retreat, Jack spotted the torpedo array spinning to track him as the Perseusfled. A finger of fire spat from the array.

“Oh crap!”

Jack straightened in his seat. The nearest canyon lay too far away. His sonar picked up the incoming torpedo as it sped toward him. He found himself leaning forward, as if that would increase his speed. “Move it…”

Laughter sounded over his radio. “Adios, asshole!”

Jack realized he would never make the canyon. He searched for other options and spotted a large boulder resting on the seamount’s summit. Slamming the left pedal, he dove at a steep angle toward it.

“Suicide, Jack? At least die with honor!”

Jack’s gaze flickered between the speeding torpedo and the oncoming collision. He bit his lip, calculating. At the last moment, he blew out his ballast tanks and gunned his thrusters. The nose end of his sub slammed into the silty bottom in front of the boulder – and bounced.

With the increased buoyancy, the tiny vessel flipped over the boulder, like a gymnast flying over a vaulting horse.

But the torpedo couldn’t.

The huge rock burst under the Nautilus. The blast shoved up the sub’s stern, peppering its underside with shards. Jack whooped, riding the concussion while sucking up new ballast. The shock wave shoved him right over the edge of the canyon.

He dove, dropping like a lead weight straight into the next chute.

Near the bottom, he angled out, skimming along the seabed. Relief and excitement mixed, but it was short-lived. The dark waters above him soon grew lighter as David pursued, closing in with his faster sub.

Jack examined his sonar readings. A strange shadow showed up ahead. He kept his lamps lit, unsure what was coming.

He needed a place to hide – and soon!

Sliding around a slight curve in the canyon, he spotted the anomaly. An arch of rock spanned the chute, a high bridge of thin stone.

He glided under it. It was too small to hide him, but it gave him an idea. He slowed and settled to the silty bottom.

It was time to even the odds.

Situation Room, White House

Lawrence Nafe stood before the computerized strategy map glowing on the rear wall of the White House’s Situation Room. Behind him were gathered the Joint Chiefs, the Cabinet, and the Secret Service.

On the map, the tiny island of Okinawa glowed red.

Destroyed. Hundreds of thousands killed in a blinding flash.

His Secretary of Defense spoke behind him. “We need to choose a target, Mr. President. Retaliation must be swift and severe.”

Nafe stepped away from the map and turned around. “Beijing.”

The men around the table stared.

“Burn it to the bedrock.”

8:55 A.M., Perseus

On his belly in the sub’s sleek pod, David sped around a curve. Sweat ran down his face, into his nose and mouth. He didn’t bother wiping it away. He dared not release his grip on the controls. A heads-up display glowed across the poly-acrylic nose cone. Sonar lines were superimposed over the view of the real terrain.

Circling around the bend, David spotted his quarry. He smiled. So the bastard hadn’t escaped the blast unharmed.

Under an arch of stone, Jack’s darkened sub limped and teetered, clearly compromised. David watched as the desperate man fought to get his sub moving, sand and silt choking up, but with no success. His sub continued to founder.

Like a fledgling with an injured wing.

“Having problems?” he radioed over.

“Go fuck yourself!”

David grinned. He lowered the Perseus, adjusting his lights to illuminate the interior of the other sub’s dome.

Inside, he saw Jack struggling.

Excited, David lifted his sub and angled over his enemy. As he glided under the arch, he adjusted the Perseus’s lights, keeping the focus on his trapped enemy. It gave him a thrill to see Jack fighting frantically for his life. As David passed directly over the damaged sub, the two adversaries faced each other.

Jack glanced up at him, while David grinned down.

That close, David saw no fear in Jack’s eyes, only satisfaction. Jack lifted a hand and flipped him off – then the Nautilusblasted straight up.

Caught off guard, David couldn’t get out of the way in time. The two vessels collided. David’s chin cracked against the pod. He bit the tip of his tongue. Stars flared across his vision; blood filled his mouth.

For a moment Jack’s dome ground against David’s nose cone. Both men lay within an arm’s reach of the other, yet remained untouchable.

Jack grinned up at him. “Time to even the odds, you bastard.”

David glanced to his sonar array. He suddenly understood the trap – but a fraction too late.

The top of the Perseusstruck the stone arch overhead. David swore a litany of curses. With a screech of titanium, the torpedo array struck the unyielding rock. One of the minitorpedoes ignited, shooting down the canyon and exploding against a distant cliff face. The remainder of the array broke off and tumbled away.

His trap sprung, Jack’s sub sank away. “As you said…adios!” The Nautilusdove forward, aiming for the sheltering cloud cast up by the stray torpedo’s explosion.

Spitting blood, David flicked a switch. “No you don’t, asshole.”

9:04 A.M., Nautilus

Jack’s grin disappeared as the Nautilussuddenly lurched under him. He jerked hard in his harness as the sub’s progress was halted in mid-dive.

Twisting around, he saw the Perseushad latched onto his sub’s frame with a single manipulator arm, its pincers clamped tight. David was not letting him run. The titanium arm tugged; metal screeched.

Warning lights flashed red across Jack’s computer screen. He was snagged and trapped. Caught from behind, his own sub’s manipulator arms could not fight back.

Titanium continued to protest as the pincers on David’s sub crushed and tore. The computer flickered. The carbon dioxide scrubbers went silent. David had clamped the main power line. This was not good.

Thinking fast, he dove toward the bottom, taking on ballast, dragging the Navy’s sub behind him, meanwhile beginning to circle during the descent. Flashing on his xenon headlight, Jack aimed at the mangled torpedo array on the seabed floor. His lights dimmed as the Nautilus’s power line was crimped. He ignored it, concentrating on his goal.

When he was close enough, Jack reached to the controls for his own sub’s manipulator arms. He extended the right arm and grabbed one of the discarded torpedoes resting on the seabed.

By now David realized the danger. The Nautiluswas jostled as David shook the vessel.

Rattled, Jack bobbled and dropped the torpedo, but he deftly snatched it back up with his other manipulator arm. Before he lost it again, Jack wound back the arm and whipped it forward, lobbing the torpedo against the base of the stone arch.

The blast blew out the support. The stone arch broke, falling toward them.

As Jack had hoped, David was not willing to risk his own skin. He freed the Nautilus,spinning away. But Jack spun the other way and grabbed the Perseus’s back frame, turning the tables, catching the shark by its tail.

“Leaving so soon?” he asked.

Overhead, the main section fell toward them.

“Let me go! You’ll kill us both!”

“Both? I don’t think so.”

Smaller boulders landed around them, blasting craters in the silt. Jack monitored both his sonar and the tumble of rock. Using his other manipulator arm, he tore at the Perseus’s main thruster assembly, damaging the propellers, then released his pincers and backed at full throttle.

David’s sub lurched, trying to crawl from under the fall of rock, but it was no use. Boulders crashed deep into the silt.

As Jack watched, a small burst of bubbles exploded from around the Perseus. He initially thought the sub had imploded, but as the bubbles cleared, a small pod of acrylic shot out from the external titanium frame. Spangler had employed his sub’s emergency escape mechanism. The ejected glass “lifeboat” blasted away from its heavier external shell. The abandoned section was immediately pounded flat by tons of rock.

The bastard was escaping!

Jack scowled, climbing with his thrusters above the spreading silk cloud.

Under positive buoyancy, the lifeboat and its single passenger rose rapidly. A tiny red emergency light on its tail winked mockingly back at him. In his heavier sub, Jack had no hope of catching it.

He followed the escape pod’s course with his xenon light as it cleared the canyon walls and climbed into the open sea.

Jaw muscles tense, Jack gripped his controls, unsure about what to do – then a flurry of movement to the side caught his eye.

A large creature stretched from a rocky den, reaching for the escaping glass bubble. The explosions, the threat to its territory, must have drawn it.

Jack touched his throat mike. “David, I think you’re about to be dinner.”

9:17 A.M.

David frowned at Jack’s radioed message. What was he talking about? What harm could he do? Jack’s sub could never catch him. Though his own lifeboat bore no weapons and had no maneuverability, it did have speed. The sleek torpedo of acrylic was light and extremely buoyant.

David tapped in a code on his computer, preparing to patch through to the sea base. He would order the anthropologist killed, slowly. Rolfe was a skilled “interviewer.” He had loosened many a stubborn tongue. David would make sure her cries and pleadings were dispatched to Jack before she was killed.

As he typed in the final connection, the life pod was jolted, tossing David onto his side. He searched the water around him but saw nothing in the weak glow of the blinking emergency beacon in the stern. He rose up on an elbow. Then the lifeboat was jarred again, and suddenly dragged straight down. David’s head struck the thick acrylic.

“What the fu—” Words died in his mouth as he glanced past his toes. In the light of the red beacon, he spotted a large dinner-plate-size sucker attached to the shell of the lifeboat. He watched a long tentacle wrap around the pod, drawing him back into the depths, reeling him in like a hooked fish.

A giant squid!

He had read the report of Jack’s battle with the same monster. He pressed his palms against the glass, panic setting in. He had no weapons. He searched the sea around him. Strobed in the red light, other tentacles and arms flailed, descending on its trapped prey.

The pod was flipped around roughly. David rolled and found a huge black eye staring at him.

A small gasp choked out of him.

The eye disappeared as the pod spun in the monster’s grip. David braced himself. All around was a blur of tentacles.

Staring past his toes, David suddenly sensed danger above his head. He jerked around – and screamed.

An arm’s length away a huge maw opened, lined by razor-sharp beaks, large enough to bite the slender pod in half. Still crying out in horror, he was drawn head first into the hungry creature’s mouth. It gnawed on the glass end, grinding its surface with its viselike beak.

David retreated, cramming himself into the stern half of the lifeboat. As he did, his elbow struck the communication system.

His eyes flicked to its palm-size screen. He still had communications! He could call in a rescue. Perhaps the bulletproof glass would resist the creature long enough. Or maybe the squid would tire of its stubborn prey and simply let him go.

Clinging to this small hope, he forced down his panic, told himself to stay focused, in charge.

Elbowing his way forward, David reached the transmitter. As he called up topside, a horrible noise echoed through the pod.

–  crack—

He stared overhead. Tiny cracks skittered across the glass. Oh. God…no…He remembered the way Dr. Cortez had died, crushed, his skull imploding.

The monster continued to gnaw. The threadlike stress cracks spiderwebbed around him. At these immense pressures, implosion was imminent.

David clenched his fists as his hopes bled away. He was left with only one desire: revenge.

His boss, Nicolas Ruzickov, ever paranoid, had built in a fail-safe system in case the pillar site were ever compromised. The CIA director had not wanted the power here falling into foreign hands. “Better no one get it than lose it to another,” Ruzickov had explained.

David called up a special screen and typed in a coded sequence. His finger hovered above the Enter key.

He looked up. The beast’s maw continued to grind against the glass. More cracks.

Monster or pressure…which death was worse?

He tapped the final key.

FAIL-SAFE ACTIVATED blinked for a brief second.

Then the lifeboat collapsed, crushing the life out of him in a heartbeat.

9:20 A.M., Neptune base

Sitting beside her captor, Karen knew time was running out. In a little over two hours the solar storm would hit. She had to contact the Fathomand let them know Dr. Cortez had been murdered. But her bodyguard had refused to let her out of his sight.

As she sat with her hands clutched in her lap, Lieutenant Rolfe leaned over the radio. A call had been wired down from topside. Though he whispered, she managed to make out two words: “evacuation” and “fail-safe.”

Straining, she tried to eavesdrop on more of the conversation.

Finally, the lieutenant hung up the receiver and turned to her. “They’re sending down the Argus. We’re leaving immediately.”

Karen noted the man refused to make eye contact. He was lying – he might be leaving, but she wouldn’t be.

Feigning acquiescence, she stood and stretched. “It’s about time.”

The lieutenant got to his feet, too. Karen saw his left hand drift to the knife strapped to his thigh. No bullets. Not at these pressures.

Turning, she hurriedly crossed toward the ladder that led down to the docking bay. She mounted it first, keeping an eye on her adversary.

He nodded for her to climb down, hand leaving the hilt of his knife.

Karen quickly calculated. She’d been taught the safety systems as soon as she boarded here. Everything was automated. For her plan to work, she had to time this perfectly. She moved slowly down the ladder, a rung at a time. Rolfe followed, keeping close, as usual.

Good.

Halfway down, Karen leaped from the ladder, landing with a thud.

Lieutenant Rolfe frowned down at her. “Careful, damn it!”

Karen thrust herself to the wall and smashed her elbow into the safety glass, breaking the seal. Pushing through the glass, slicing her fingertips, she reached to the emergency manual override. It was a safety feature to lock down the levels in case of flooding.

Understanding in his eyes, the lieutenant, who stood halfway through the interlevel hatch, pushed off the rungs, dropping toward her.

Karen yanked the red lever.

Emergency klaxons blared.

The hatch whisked shut.

Karen rolled away as the lieutenant fell through the hatch, kicking at her head. But his attack was halted in mid-swing.

Twisting around, she saw him hanging from the hatch, gurgling, his neck caught in the sliding door. It closed with a pressure meant to hold back six hundred meters of water pressure.

Bones cracked. Blood splattered the deck.

She turned away as his body fell to the floor, headless, twitching.

She ran a few steps away and vomited, remaining bent over, her stomach quivering. She knew she had no other choice. Kill or be killed, Jack had told her once.

Still…

An intercom at the control station buzzed. A voice spoke. “Neptune, this is Topside Control. We’re reading an emergency hatch closure. Are you okay?”

Karen straightened, heart thudding. The Argusmust be on its way down. She could not risk being caught. Hurrying to the controls, she frantically tried to remember how to work the radio, moving toggles and dials. Finally, she thumbed the right switch and leaned to the mike. “Topside, this is Neptune. Do not attempt evacuation. I repeat, do notattempt evacuation. The station has been damaged. Implosion imminent. Do you copy?”

The voice returned, somber. “Read you. Implosion imminent.” A long pause. “Our prayers are with you, Neptune.”

“Thank you, Topside. Over and out.”

Karen bit her lip. Finally free, she now turned her attention to more important concerns.

Where the hell was Jack?

9:35 A.M., Nautilus

Jack limped down the last canyon. He spotted lights ahead. It was the crash site! He was so close. He pumped the foot pedals, trying to eke a little more power from the drained batteries. The thrusters whined weakly.

If nothing else, the frantic chase through the seamounts had brought him within a quarter mile of the base. After watching David’s lifeboat implode, it had taken Jack only eight minutes to reach the site. However, his computer screen was riddled with blinking warning lights in hues of red and yellow. Worst of all, the battery power level read zero.

The charge was so low that he’d been forced to turn off all immediately unnecessary systems: lights, carbon dioxide scrubbers, even heaters. After such a short trip, he was already shivering violently, lips blue from the icy cold of these depths.

And now with the lights of the base illuminating the last of the canyon, Jack turned off his sonar. This earned him another half minute of power to his thrusters. He glided the Nautilusforward. The sub’s skids, bent and twisted, rode an inch above the sandy bottom.

At long last he pulled free of the canyons.

After so long in the dark, the lights glared. He squinted. The pillar lay twenty yards to his right, the sea base straight ahead, its three doughnut-shaped sections lit up brightly. He swore under his breath at the distance yet to travel. Why had they constructed the base so far away? He’d never make it.

Proving his words true, the thrusters whined down and stopped with an ominous silence. Jack pounded the foot pedals. “C’mon, not when we’re this damn close!” He managed to earn a weak whine, but nothing more.

He settled back, thinking. He rubbed his hands together, his fingertips numb from the cold. “Now what?”

9:48 A.M., Neptune base

Karen wiped the blood from her hands onto her pants. She had climbed back up to Level 2 after disengaging the emergency lock-down. For the past five minutes, she had been fruitlessly trying to raise Gabriel.

Cut off, she felt blind and deaf. What was she going to do?

She stood up, trying to pace away her nervousness. She considered calling topside and coming clean. The fate of the world depended on someone taking action…anyone. But she knew her chances of convincing somebody in authority were futile. The disk with the data from the Fathomwas gone, missing along with the body of Dr. Cortez. And who would believe a woman who had just decapitated a decorated member of the U.S. military?

Karen scratched her head, her heart pounding. There had to be a way.

As she paced, a small temblor shook underfoot. She stopped. The vibrations rattled up her legs. She held her breath. All she needed right now was a deep-sea quake. She moved to one of the portholes. As she peered out, the rattling died away. A fading light caught her eye. It was coming from the pillar.

Karen narrowed her eyes, studying it. Strange.

Suddenly, the light flared up in the pillar. The ground shook again. She gripped the walls, holding herself steady. For the briefest moment, as the light flared, she spotted the glint of something shiny and metallic.

Something was out there.

The quake ended, and the light faded.

She stared, straining, squinting – but could discern nothing more.

“What was that?” she mumbled to herself.

As she stood, arms tight around her, Karen thought of a way to find out.

10:18 A.M., Nautilus

Teeth chattering and weak from stale air, Jack struggled to grab another rock from the silt with the sub’s manipulator arm. Of the first four stones, he had managed to hit the pillar twice. Not bad.

Earlier, as the sub had rested dead on the seabed floor, he’d remembered Charlie’s lesson about the pillar’s sensitivity to energy, even kineticenergy, like something striking its surface. He had just enough battery power to work one of the manipulator arms and lob stones at the pillar. The ground trembled, the pillar flared. But was there anyone to see his SOS? Had the base been abandoned already? He had no way of knowing.

He struggled to dig free another stone. His vision blurred. The cold and the carbon dioxide were taking their toll. As he fought to stay conscious, the manipulator arm froze up. He tugged at the controls. Not enough power.