Deep Fathom

20 Nick of Time

Jack sat buried in warm towels. He was finally starting to feel his toes. Charlie’s image flickered on the computer screen in front of him. “First tell me about this missile strike. What’s that all about?”

“A fail-safe mechanism was initiated from a radio transmission from below. I thought you might know more about it.”

Jack glanced at Karen.

“It wasn’t from here,” she said. “I was with Rolfe at the time.”

“Then it must have been Spangler,” Jack said with a scowl. “His final attempt to kill me from the grave.”

“He must have really hated you, Jack,” Charlie chimed in. “A nuclear-tipped ICBM has our names on it.”

Jack’s eyes grew wide. He forgot about the chill in his limbs.

“How long do we have?”

“From Gabriel’s estimation, fifty-seven minutes. One minute after the solar storm hits.”

Jack shook his head. “So even if we can block this pillar and save the world, we still die in a nuclear blast.”

Charlie shrugged. “Pretty much.”

Jack sat quietly, stubbornly considering their options, then sighed. “What the hell. Heroes aren’t suppose to live forever. Let’s get this done. What’s this new plan of yours, Charlie?”

“It’s a long shot, Jack.”

“Considering our current state of affairs, I’ll take any damn shot.”

“But I really wanted to run my calculations by Dr. Cortez first.”

“Well, unless you have a Ouija board, that ain’t happening. So spit it out. What’s this plan?”

Charlie looked grim. “You gave me the idea, Jack. We overload the pillar with energy.”

“Try to short-circuit it?”

“Not exactly. If we overload the crystal with precisely enough energy, pulse it at exactly the right frequency, it should fracture the crystal without a kinetic backlash, like shattering a crystal goblet by striking the right note.”

“And you know the right note?”

Charlie nodded. “I think I do. But the hard part was finding a way to deliver the note. The energy has to be precise and sustained for three minutes.”

“And you figured this out?”

“I think so.” Charlie sighed. “That’s what Gabriel and I have been working on since you left — and you’re not going to like it, Jack. For this type of sustained power, we’ll need a particle-beam weapon.”

“How are we supposed to get our hands on such a thing?”

Charlie just stared at him as if he should already know the answer.

Then understanding struck Jack between the eyes. He jerked to his feet. “Wait…you can’t mean the Spartacus?”

“Gabriel obtained its specs. It should work.”

“What’s this Spartacus?” Karen interrupted.

Jack sank back down. “It’s a Navy satellite. The one I was putting into orbit when the shuttle Atlantis was damaged. Its equipped with an experimental particle-beam cannon engineered to knock out targets from space. Airplanes, missiles, ships, even submarines.” Jack turned back to Charlie. “But it’s defunct. Damaged.”

Charlie shook his head. “Only its guidance and tracking systems — which, of course, makes it useless to the government. For it to work, they’d need an operator sitting up there aiming the thing by hand.” Charlie paused. “But luckily, we have that operator right here.”

Jack did not understand, but Karen realized the answer. “Gabriel!”

“Exactly. I sent him earlier to try to access the satellite’s central processor. With the current global crisis and with the Spartacus classified as dead in space, he and Miyuki succeeded in slipping past the old firewalls. The satellite’s processor is still active.”

“You’re kidding…after all these years?” Karen asked skeptically.

“It’s solar powered. An infinite energy source.”

As the others talked, Jack sat quietly, flashing back to the bright satellite lifting from its shuttle bay cradle, silvery solar wings spreading wide. He tried to close his mind against what happened afterward but failed. The explosion, the screams, the endless fall through space…

He shivered — not from cold, but from a twinge of superstitious dread. The Spartacus was cursed. Death surrounded it. Nothing good could come from the wretched thing. “It won’t work,” he grumbled.

“Do we have any other choice?” Karen asked. She placed a hand on his shoulder, then spoke to Charlie. “When can we try it?”

“Well, that’s the clincher. We’ll have only the one chance. The satellite won’t come within orbital range until forty-eight minutes from now.”

Jack checked the clock. “That’s three minutes before the solar storm hits.”

“Three minutes is all I’ll need. Either it works or it doesn’t.”

Jack shook his head. “This is insane.”

“What do we have to do?” Karen asked.

“To target the pillar, Gabriel will need an active GPS lock. Something upon which to focus the cannon. We’re going to need you to place the Nautilus’s Magellan GPS homing device over by the pillar. It’ll feed data to the Fathom, and in turn I’ll send it to Gabriel.”

Jack shook his head. “Then we have a problem. The Nautilus is still outside the sea base. I had to do an emergency jettison to enter the docking bay. There’s no way to get to the Magellan unit outside.”

Karen spoke up. “What about the ROV robot?”

“It’s too crude to extract the Magellan unit without harming it. Someone would have to do it by hand.”

No one spoke. Everyone sat sullenly.

Then Karen brightened. “I may have an idea.”

Standing in the docking bay, Jack watched the water level rise past the front port of his helmet. He moved his arms, acquainting himself to the deep-sea armored ensemble. It was one of the Navy diver’s suits. The large helmet had four viewing ports: forward, right, left, and above. The bulbous helmet was so wide that it blended flush with the suit’s shoulders, creating a bullet-shaped form with jointed arms and legs protruding from it. Small lights were mounted atop the helmet and at each wrist. There were also thruster assemblies built into the back, like the old rocket packs in scifi serials.

As Jack moved slowly about the filling bay, he found its operation fairly intuitive, similar to the EVA suits used for spacewalks.

“How’re you doing?” Karen’s voice came through the helmet radio. Through the seawater, he spotted her waving to him from the bay’s observation window. After talking with Charlie, Karen had taken Jack down to the docking level and shown him the “garages” where the huge suits were stored. He had to give her credit. It was a clever solution.

He waved back. “Doing fine.”

“Charlie is jacked into the radio system. He’s monitoring also.”

“Charlie?” Jack called out.

“Right here, mon.”

“How’s Gabriel doing?”

“The little bugger has finished troubleshooting the satellite’s systems. They’re powering up and awaiting our signal. Just get that GPS unit and haul ass. We’re running out of time.”

Jack’s gaze flicked to the helmet’s internal computer screen. Sixteen minutes. “I hear you.”

Karen came back on line. “Careful. The docking bay doors are opening.”

Jack bent a bit, peering down. A few feet away the huge doors slid open. The ocean lay beyond.

Jack stepped toward the opening. “I’d better get going.” From across the way he spotted Karen’s face through the window. She held a fist to her throat. Worried and scared. Jack sensed her fear was more for his own safety than the fate of the world.

With a last wave, he stepped from the bay and sank down to the ocean floor. Using a hand pad, he adjusted his buoyancy and settled in place. The remains of the Nautilus lay two yards away. Playing with the thrusters, Jack spun himself around until he faced the sub, then moved over to its side.

Bending at the knee, he searched the vessel. The Magellan unit was just forward to the portside thruster assembly. He shuffled around until he found it. Reaching with an arm, he used the three-pronged pincer grip to unscrew its cover plate. It took a little prying since it was bent inward from the hard use the sub had recently faced.

The plate fell away.

Jack kneeled lower, awkward in the bulky suit. He shone the tiny wrist lamps inside. Oh, shit… The shoe-box-size device was smashed, its inner components open to the seawater. He groaned aloud.

“You okay, Jack?” Karen asked.

He straightened. “The Magellan is toast. The unit’s fried.” Hopelessness hollowed his chest. “Goddamn that asshole Spangler!”

Charlie’s voice echoed through the tiny speakers. “But Jack, I’m picking up a GPS signal.”

“Impossible. Not from the Nautilus.”

“Step away,” Charlie said. “Get clear of the sea base.”

Using his thrusters, Jack skimmed between two of the steel support legs and out into open ocean.

“It’s you!” Charlie said. “That Navy suit must be engineered with an automatic GPS homing device. A safety feature in case a diver gets stranded!”

Jack felt hope rekindle. “Then all I have to do is reach the pillar.”

“You have eight minutes.” Charlie paused. “But Jack, if the GPS is a part of the suit, you’ll have to stay by the pillar.”

Jack understood what Charlie was implying. It would mean his death.

Karen came to the same realization. “There has to be another way. What about that other plan? The last resort. To reset the explosive charges and blow up just the pillar.”

Charlie argued. “The kinetic energy backlash—”

Fingering his controls, Jack goosed his thrusters. “Folks, either way, there’s a nuke with our names on it already in the air. This is the only viable option.” He swung around and flew across the seabed floor. The pillar lay fifty yards away. “Be ready.”

Lisa stood with Robert and George by the bow rail. The sun overhead shone brilliantly. There was not a cloud in the sky. They had come up to the deck to await the outcome. With the other four belowdecks, the lab had been too crowded, too cramped. Lisa needed to feel the breeze on her cheek…if only for one last time.

George and Robert had accompanied her. George smoked his pipe. Robert had his Sony walkman over his ears. Faintly, Lisa could hear the tinny sounds of Bruce Springsteen singing “Born to Run.”

She sighed. If only they could run…

But they couldn’t. The Fathom needed to stay nearby to aid in the flow of transmissions between the station below and the satellite overhead. There would be no escape for any of them. Even if their plan succeeded, the area would soon be wiped out, destroyed in a decisive nuclear strike.

George removed his pipe and silently pointed its stem toward the horizon.

Lisa looked. A small contrail rose from the northeast, streaking higher as it arced into the sky. The fail-safe missile.

George replaced his pipe, his eyes on the sky.

No one said a word.

Encased in his reinforced suit, Jack stood with his back to the crystal pillar. The ocean bottom lay dark all around him. A moment ago he had ordered Karen to turn off the grid to the lamp poles, plunging the seas back into darkness. He had also turned off his own suit lights. He could not risk exciting the pillar prematurely and interfering with his GPS signal.

“Are you registering me okay?” he asked.

Charlie answered from the Fathom. “Loud and clear. Transmitting data up to Gabriel.”

He gazed around him. The only light came from the yellow glow through the portholes of the Neptune sea base. Though he could not see her, Jack felt Karen staring back at him. He sighed. He would have liked the chance to have known her better. His only regret.

He waited. There was nothing else for him to do. He was now just a living and breathing target for a space-based weapons system.

He glanced up through the upper port of his helmet, as if he could see the satellite — Spartacus. He had somehow known one day their paths would cross again. A destiny that needed to be fulfilled. He had escaped death once, the only survivor. Now he was standing in the crosshairs of the same satellite. Death would not be denied a second time.

He closed his eyes.

Karen whispered in his ear like a ghost, “We’re with you, Jack. All of us.”

He silently acknowledged her. All his life he had been surrounded by ghosts. Memories of the dead. Now, at this last moment, he let it all go, finally realizing how much power he had given to the shades of his past.

Well, no longer. At this moment he wanted only his flesh-and-blood friends at his side. He opened his eyes and his comlink. “Good luck, everyone. Let’s get this done!”

Charlie’s voice came next. “Here we go.”

Sunlight reflected off the wings of the brilliant satellite. Upon its flank, stenciled markings, as crisp as the day they had been painted, were easy to see: a tiny flag, identification numbers, and broad red letters, spelling out its name: Spartacus.

As it swept over the expanse of the Pacific Ocean, the satellite slowly rotated, an internal gyro spinning like a child’s top. Pinioned solar wings tilted to catch more energy, in turn powering up the high-energy chemical laser.

It was a ballet of power and force.

On its underside, a hatch opened and a telescoping barrel protruded.

Around the awakening satellite, the upper atmosphere began to be peppered with ionized particles, charging the ionosphere with tiny bursts of radiation, like raindrops on a pond. Ripples began to spread. The satellite’s communication system crackled.

Something inside listened and compensated, tuning away the interference.

However, these raindrops were but the first trickle of a coming flood. Overhead, past the orbit of the moon, the true storm rushed toward Earth, a raging gale of wild energy and particles, plunging through the vacuum of space at 1.8 million miles per hour.

Oblivious to the threat, the satellite finished its cascade. The chemical laser fed energy in microbursts to the particle-beam generator. Power levels rose exponentially, building to thresholds that could only be sustained by a whirling pair of electromagnets. Its shielded central processor registered the escalation, making one final adjustment, locking on a signal far below.

Power screamed between whirling magnets, seeking a way out.

At last a switch was opened — energy pulsed out in a narrow beam of neutrons, ripping through the atmosphere, striking the sea below and passing through the waters as easily as it had the air. Fed from space, the beam raced into the midnight depths of the ocean, where even the light of the sun could not penetrate.

Karen stood, face pressed to the cold window. Beyond the weak light of the portholes, she searched for some sign of Jack, but could see nothing.

A starless midnight.

Then, in a blinding flash, the crystal pillar burst with radiance.

Karen gasped, blinded. She closed her eyes, covering her face with an arm, but the pillar still shone, the image burned into her retina. She stumbled back, tears running down her face. It took several seconds before she could even open her eyes. When she did, each porthole shone with such brilliance that it seemed the sun itself had descended atop the sea base.

“My God!”

Shielding her eyes, she moved to one of the ports, trying to see outside. Nothing was visible. Not Jack, not the seabed beyond. The world was just light. “Jack…”

Lisa continued to stand near the bow rail with George and Robert.

The old historian sighed out a long stream of smoke, seemingly unperturbed by the missile aiming across the sky toward them. By now its fiery tail was easy to see.

Lisa reached out and took George’s hand. He squeezed her fingers in his grip. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, suddenly fatherly, his eyes on the sky.

As they watched together, the missile seemed to freeze in place, hanging as if caught in amber. Lisa stared, mouth hanging open. Surely it was an optical illusion.

One second…then another and another passed.

It still refused to move.

Robert spoke up, drawing her attention away from the strange sky. He was bent over the steel rail, looking down. He turned to them, taking off his headphones. “Guys…where’s the ocean?”

“What do you mean?” Lisa and George joined the young marine biologist. She stared past the rail and gasped.

Beyond the keel there was no water. The ship was floating in midair, rocking gently on invisible waves.

Lisa bent over the rail. Far below, a fierce light shone. She looked around, turning. Inside a hundred-yard perimeter of the ship the sea was gone. Beyond this circle, the ocean was as normal as any day. It was as if the Deep Fathom were floating over a deep well in the ocean.

Only this well had a sun at the bottom of it.

“Look at the sky!” George called out.

Lisa tore her eyes from the wonders below to see something even more amazing overhead. In the sky, the small missile, once hanging in place, began to slide back down its smoke trail, as if it were retreating.

“What is going on?” she asked.

Jack stood with his arms blocking his helmet ports. He huddled against the light, mouth open in a silent scream. The power surging inches from his back vibrated his armor shell. His skin was flushed, hairs tingling. He felt the energy down to his bones. God…!

Before his sanity was burned away in the brightness, he sensed a change in the timbre of the energy. The light softened.

He lowered his arm.

Rather than blinding, the radiance from the pillar had become a silvery wash through the dark waters. The seamounts, the research station, the lava pillars, were all limned in stark relief, etched in silver, becoming mirrors themselves in the strange light.

A voice whispered in his ear, hopeless, scared. “Jack…”

As he stared, knowing death lay moments away, he spotted movement from the corner of his eye. He turned, searching out the helmet ports.

Then he saw them!

Reflected in the silvery surfaces of the nearby sea cliffs, he watched images of men and women kneeling, arms raised to the heavens. More gathered behind. Throngs of robed and cloaked figures, some with elaborate headdresses of feathers and jewels, others bearing platters laden with fruits, or leading sheep and pigs on leather tethers.

“My God,” he whispered.

Searching around, he saw similar images in all the mirrored surfaces: warped figures moving across the curved skin of the sea base, fractured images on the broken wall of lava pillars, even on a nearby boulder, the reflection of a tall man, kneeling with his face to the ground.

It was as if the silvery surfaces had become a magical looking glass to another world.

“Jack, if you’re out there, answer me!” It was Karen.

Jack’s voice filled with wonder, his fear fading. “Can you see them?”

The kneeling figure lifted his face. He was bearded, with piercing eyes, and strong limbs. He stood and stepped from the mirrored boulder.

Jack gasped, backing and bumping into the pillar behind him. All around him the procession of people moved forward, leaving their reflected surfaces. He now heard distant voices, echoing songs, chanting.

The figure from the boulder lifted his arms high, a shout of joy on his lips.

Jack found his gaze drawn upward. There was no ocean, only sky. A bright sun hung above, eclipsed by the moon. Glancing back down, he saw hazy mountains in the distance and dense forests. Yet, strangely at the same time, he could still sense the ocean, the sea base, the cliffs….

He suddenly understood. These were the ancient ones, the people of the lost continent. He was glimpsing their world.

Karen whispered in his ear, barely audible past the growing songs and chants. “I…I see people around you, Jack.”

It wasn’t just him! Jack stepped forward to view the wonder better. As he did so, the tall bearded man crashed to his knees, a look of rapture on his face. He was staring right at Jack.

“I think they can see me, too!” he said, astounded.

“Who are they?”

Jack stopped and raised an arm. All around the ghostly clearing, men and women fell in postures of worship and prostration. “They’re your ancients. The ones you’ve been looking for all these years. We’re seeing back into their world through some strange warp. And they’re in turn seeing into ours.”

The kneeling man, some sort of leader or shaman, called loudly. Though the words were unintelligible, he was clearly pleading.

Jack had an idea. “Karen, are we still patched through to the Fathom?”

“Yes.”

“Can you feed what this man is saying up to Gabriel? Can he translate?”

“I’ll try.”

There was a long pause. Jack gazed around in amazement.

Finally, a familiarly tinny voice, scratchy with distance, spoke in his ear.

“I will attempt to translate…but I have only begun to attach phonetics to the ancient language.”

“Do your best, Gabriel.”

Charlie spoke up. “You’ll have to hurry. We’re escalating to the peak pulse frequency in thirty-two seconds.”

The man at Jack’s feet continued to speak. Gabriel’s translation overlapped. “Our need is great, spirit of the pillar, oh god of the sun. What message do you bring us that the land shakes and cracks with fire?”

For the first time Jack noticed the ground was trembling underfoot. At that moment, he realized not only where he was, but when!

He stood at the dawn of this continent’s devastation.

Jack also grasped his own role here. He remembered the platinum diary’s story: The god of light stepped from his pillar….

Outfitted in his armored suit, basked by brilliance, he was that god.

Knowing his duty, Jack stepped forward and raised both arms. “Flee!” he yelled as Gabriel translated, his words echoing out to those gathered. “A time of darkness is upon you! A time of hardship! The waters of the sea will claim your homelands and drown them away. You must be prepared!”

Jack saw the shocked look on the other’s face. The man had understood.

Charlie yelled through the speakers. “Get ready for the final pulse!”

The view of the lost continent began to flicker.

Hurrying, Jack stepped forward. “Build great ships!” he ordered. “Gather your flocks and fill the ships’ bellies with food from the fields! Save your people!”

The shaman bowed his head. “Your humble servant, Horon-ko, hears and will obey.”

A shocked gasp arose from the radio. “Horon-ko,” Karen said. “The one who wrote the diary…the bones in the coffin.”

Jack nodded, staring down at the man. Their shared stories had come full circle. As he stood, the images sank back into the mirrored reflections.

“Here it comes!” Charlie screamed.

Jack braced, tense, waiting for the coming explosion.

But it never arrived — instead, the brightness simply blinked away like a candle snuffed.

Jack straightened. After the intense light, the midnight seas were especially dark. The glow from the base’s portholes appeared anemic and wan.

Karen yelled, fear in her voice. “Jack!”

“I’m still here.”

She sighed with relief, then Charlie interrupted. “What about the pillar?”

Jack spun with his thrusters, thumbing on his suit’s lamps. His lights spread far in the darkness.

Nothing.

The crystal pillar was gone. All that remained were bits and chunks scattered across the dark seabed floor, glowing in his beams like a sprinkle of stars. He moved forward, stepping among the shining constellations.

“Jack?” Charlie whispered.

“We did it. The pillar’s destroyed.”

Charlie whooped with joy.

Jack frowned. Charlie’s happiness was hard to share. The world was saved, but what about them? “The tactical nuclear strike?” Jack asked. “Spangler’s revenge. When’s it due to hit?”

“I wouldn’t worry about that, mon.”

Charlie sat in the pilothouse, radio pressed to his lips. “Jack, you missed the eclipse the last time. You might want to get back up here so you don’t miss it a second time.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Charlie grinned at Jack’s consternation. He couldn’t resist stringing his captain along. His heart was too full of amazement and joy. He stood and stared out the wide window. The others were all gathered on deck, pointing up.

In the clear sky, a black sun shone down, casting the ocean in platinum.

Charlie checked his wristwatch. A little after twelve o’clock. He glanced back at the sun. It was low in the sky, too low.

Shaking his head in wonder, Charlie glanced to the satellite navigation system. Its clock and date were constantly updated with a feed from a dozen satellites in geosynchronous orbit. He stared at the digital time and date stamp. He had confirmed the anomalous results with the local weather band, too.

“Goddamn it, Charlie, what are you talking about?”

Charlie sighed, letting Jack off the hook. “We ran into a little anomaly, Jack. Like I said before, I’m no expert on this new science of ‘dark energy.’ ”

“Yeah, so? What happened?”

“Well, when we bombarded the pillar, the dark energy behaved as I had hoped — radiating straight back out, rather than down. But it had a side effect I hadn’t anticipated.”

“What?”

“Rather than stirring up the magma, the dark energy spike triggered a massive global time flux, resetting the Earth’s battery to the moment when the dark matter had last been excited. Back to the solar storm two weeks ago. Back to the day of the eclipse.”

Jack’s voice was incredulous. “What the hell are you saying? That we’ve traveled back in time?”

“Not us, the world. Except for our local pocket here, the rest of the planet slipped back sixteen days.”

In the docking bay of the research station, Karen helped Jack out of his bulky suit. She had listened in on the geologist’s conversation with Jack.

A global time flux.

It was too wild to comprehend right now. All her mind could grasp was that they had survived. The pillar was gone. The world was safe. The mysteries of Einsteinian anomalies, dark matter, and dark energy would have to wait.

Jack groaned, climbing out of the unhinged armored suit.

Karen held his arm, assisting him. Here was what she understood: flesh and blood. Jack had survived and returned to her as he had promised.

As he stumbled free, he straightened with a large smile. “We did it.”

Karen opened her mouth to congratulate him — then their eyes met. She realized words were too weak to convey her true feelings. Instead, she threw her arms around his neck, knocking and pinning him back against the heavy suit.

Before either of them knew it, their lips sought each other out.

Karen kissed him hard, as if proving him no ghost. He pulled her closer. His lips moved from her mouth to her throat. The heat of his touch was electric, a dark energy of his own. She gasped his name, winding her fingers through his hair, tangling and twisting, refusing to let him go.

Their flaring passion was not love, nor even lust. It was something more. Two people needing to prove they lived. In the warmth of lips, the touch of skin, they celebrated life in all its physical needs, sensations, and wonder.

He pressed against her, urgent and hungry. She squeezed him harder, arms trembling.

Finally, he broke away from her. “We…we…not now, not this way. Not enough time.” He sagged back, one hand vaguely waving up. “We need to find a way topside.”

Karen grabbed his wrist. “Follow me.” She brusquely guided him to the ladder. Climbing, she still felt the heat of his touch on her skin, a gentle warmth that spread through her limbs. Reaching the topmost tier, she helped him off the ladder.

“I was given a safety briefing when I first arrived,” she explained. “There’s a built-in emergency evacuation system.” She hurried to a panel marked with large warning labels and pulled the door open. A large red T-handle lay snugly in place. “Help me with this.”

Jack moved to her side, his shoulders brushing hers. “What is it?”

“The upper tier acts as an emergency lifeboat, sort of like the sub’s evacuation system. This lever pops and separates the top level from the other two. Then, according to the specs, the positive buoyancy will float the tier to the surface. Ready?”

Jack nodded. Together they yanked the handle. A muffled explosion sounded, rattling the floor underfoot. The wall lamps blinked off as the tier separated from the main generators.

Karen found Jack’s hand in the dark. In moments red emergency lights flickered on.

The floor swayed, then tilted. Karen tumbled into Jack’s arms.

He held her snugly. “We’re free. We’re floating up.”

After a moment he turned to her, eyes bright in the weak light. “How long till we breach the surface?”

Karen recognized the hunger in his voice. She matched it with her own. “Thirty or forty minutes,” she said huskily. She slipped from his embrace and reached to her blouse. Freeing the top buttons, she stepped back toward the sleeping quarters. Her eyes never left his. “It seems I never did give you a proper tour, did I?”

He followed her, step for step. His hand reached to the zipper of his dive suit, tugging it down. “No. And I think it’s long overdue.”

Seven hours later, out on the open deck, Jack and the others sat around a makeshift dining table. Jack had broken out the champagne and pulled the last of the Porterhouse steaks from the freezer. It was to be a sunset dinner to celebrate their survival and the secret shared by the nine people gathered here.

Only they knew what had truly transpired.

Earlier, they had broken into teams to discover how the rest of the world had fared. Charlie discovered that this time around, with the pillar destroyed, the world had been spared the Pacificwide devastation. “Not even a tremor.”

George, in the meantime, investigated if there was another Deep Fathom sailing the seas, the old timeline counterparts. There wasn’t. “It was as if we were plucked from where we were and placed here.” The historian also confirmed from the Hawaiian news wires that the Neptune sea base had vanished from its dock in the waters off of Wailea. He read aloud the news report with a smile. “ ‘The head of the experimental project, Dr. Ferdinand Cortez, spoke to authorities, expressing his dismay and bafflement at the theft.’ ”

Karen was especially relieved. “He survived?”

Charlie answered, “I guess the currents must have dragged his body beyond the zone around the pillar. When the flux occurred, he simply popped back into the old timeline, a timeline where he never came out here, never died.”

“And he has no memory of what happened?”

Charlie shrugged. “I doubt it. Maybe somewhere deep inside. Something unspoken. More an odd feeling.”

“But what about Lieutenant Rolfe? His body is still down there.”

“Exactly. He remained within the zone. So he stays dead. I bet if you checked on him you’d find him missing from the real world, plucked out of the timeline just like the Fathom and the sea base had been.”

Intrigued, Jack had taken it upon himself to check this angle. He had dialed Admiral Houston and found him still in San Diego. The admiral had been thrilled to hear from him after so many years. “Goddamn if I wasn’t just thinking about you today, Jack. During the eclipse.”

After exchanging pleasantries and a promise to get together, Jack hurriedly explained how he wanted to check into a friend’s whereabouts — Lieutenant Ken Rolfe. After a couple hours, the admiral had called back, suspicious. “Jack, do you know something you’re not telling me? A report came in an hour ago from Turkey. It says your friend went missing during a special ops mission at the Iraq border — along with another old friend of yours.”

“An old friend?”

“David Spangler.”

Jack had to cover his surprise and talk his way off the phone. Once free, he sat quietly for several moments. So David had stayed dead, probably still in the belly of the giant squid. The great beast must have nested close to the pillar. Jack felt a twinge of regret. Alive and free, he allowed himself the luxury of pity for the man. David had been warped by his upbringing, his father’s unspoken abuses. So where did the true blame lie? Jack knew such answers were beyond him.

Later, as the afternoon had worn on, Lisa suggested the special dinner, to toast their survival. It was heartily agreed upon by all.

Now, with the sun sinking into the western ocean, Jack settled to the table and the celebration. From across the way, Kendall McMillan caught his eye. The accountant wore shorts and a loose pullover, extremely casual for the man.

“Captain,” Kendall said, “I have a request to make.”

“What is it?”

He cleared his throat and spoke firmly. “I’d like to officially join your crew.”

This news surprised him. Kendall had always maintained an officious distance from the others. Jack frowned. “I don’t know if we have the need for a full-time accountant.”

Kendall glanced to his plate and mumbled, “You will when you’re all millionaires.”

“What are you talking about?”

He looked around the table, then spoke loudly. “I’m talking about the Kochi Maru. If Mr. Mollier is correct in his assessment that there were no quakes this time around, there is a good chance the previous volcanic eruption that swallowed the treasure ship may not have occurred. The ship may still be down there.”

Jack’s brows rose and his eyes widened. He remembered the ship’s hold full of gold bricks. At least a hundred tons. Jack stood and reached across the table. He took the accountant’s hand and pumped it vigorously. “Welcome to the crew of the Deep Fathom, Mr. McMillan. For that timely observation, you just earned yourself a tenth of the haul.”

Kendall grinned like a schoolboy.

Jack lifted a glass of champagne. “We’ll share equally. Everyone. That includes our newest shipmates: Karen, Miyuki, and Mwahu.”

Kendall looked down the table. “But you said a tenth. There are only nine of us here?”

Jack patted the tabletop. The old German shepherd, squatting at his feet, jumped up, his paws on the table. He ruffled the dog’s thick mane. “Anyone object to Elvis getting his fair share? After all, he did save all your asses from being blown to Kingdom come.”

Kendall was the first on his feet, raising his glass. “To Elvis!”

The others followed suit. The old dog barked loudly.

Jack sat back down, smiling.

Slowly, as dinner became dessert, people began to wander away into private groups to discuss the day and their futures, all happy to still have one. Jack spotted Karen by the starboard rail. She stared into the sun’s last glow.

He pushed to his feet, feeling slightly tipsy from the champagne. He crossed to the rail and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. As he did, he saw she held the broken shards of the crystal star in her palms.

She spoke, her voice melancholy. “With the revelations of these past days, my research is over. My great-grandfather was right. There was a lost continent. I now know the ancients truly existed.” She looked up at him sadly. “But if we are to keep the secret of the dark matter hidden, then none must ever know the truth. Look how close we came to destroying ourselves with the mere power of the atom. Can you imagine what we’d do with the power of an entire planet?”

Leaning over, she tumbled the bright crystal shards into the dark sea. “Like the ancients themselves, we’re not ready for such power.”

Jack took her palms, cradling them in his own. “Don’t worry. There are other mysteries yet to be discovered.” Leaning down, he stared deeply into her eyes, his lips brushing hers, his voice low. “You just need to know where to look.”