The Atlantis revelation

8

Conrad knew that he had come tonight to see Mercedes, whom he reluctantly followed past security down some stone steps into the lower gardens. But the sight of Serena had so thoroughly thrown him that Mercedes could have stripped off her snug gown and invited him to skinny-dip with her in the sea and he still would have passed on the opportunity in order to get back to Serena. Or get back at her. He wasn't sure.

Mercedes, meanwhile, looked incredibly if artificially well sculpted in her silver halter dress. Her forehead and facial features, however, seemed a bit too tight when she turned to him in the dim light of the lower gardens. Sure they were at last alone, she slapped him across the face.

"You bastard!" she hissed. "You stranded me in Nazca with a stolen artifact and a dozen Peruvian soldiers."

He rubbed his stinging cheek with his hand. "You got out okay, didn't you?"

"And how do you think I managed that?" she said, tearing up. "You think those pigs cared who my father was?"

It dawned on him what must have happened, the favors she was forced to offer to get out while he was off in Antarctica with Serena. He couldn't tell her he'd had no choice, because in hindsight, he had. It hadn't been necessary to leave her on that plateau. He could have insisted that the U.S. military take her and drop her off somewhere safe before proceeding. And he hadn't.

Conrad said, "You told me later that all was forgiven and forgotten."

Her eyes turned into black slits, the moonlight giving them an otherworldly glow. "Because I had to," she said. "I was hoping you'd come back. But you didn't, did you?"

Conrad, realizing that Mercedes's feelings toward him were the same as his own toward Serena, felt horrible and gave her his full attention. "I'm here now."

"No, you came to see her," Mercedes said, referring to Serena.

"Actually, I came to see your boyfriend," he said, surprised that he was actually telling her the truth.

She believed him, it seemed, and said nothing for a couple of minutes as they walked down more steps to the beach. There was a tiny Greek fishing village there, with some modest homes behind whitewashed walls. She removed her stiletto sandals, and they walked along the sand to the old stone bridge jutting out into the water.

"This is the kaiser's pier," she said. "He used it to go back and forth from his yacht."

"Like Midas?"

Her slits for eyes softened into a worried look. "What's your business with Roman?"

"He stole something that belonged to me."

She forced a smile. "I doubt that."

"That he stole something?" Conrad asked.

"That whatever he stole belonged to you. What was it, Conrad? Some Greek statue at the bottom of the sea?"

"Something important enough for Midas to blow up my boat and kill my crew over." He was as serious as he had ever let her see him.

She paused. "And so you decided to come back for more?"

"Did you hear me, Mercedes? Your boyfriend killed people today. You don't seem surprised. And that surprises me. What are you doing with a monster like Midas?"

"All men are animals." Her eyes narrowed back into slits. "But Roman is an adult, Conrad, not a child like you. He understands power and money and politics in a way you never could."

"All I understand, Mercedes, is that Midas seems to have moved on from oil to arms."

Mercedes sniffed. "I don't believe you. Midas doesn't need anything in this world. He's as rich as, well, Midas. He doesn't have to steal anything. He can buy it."

Conrad said, "Then tell me what he's buying these days besides megayachts and art."

A shadow passed across her face, betraying the fact that, yes, Midas had bought something interesting lately. "You haven't changed, Conrad," she said. "You're looking for links that don't exist. The great conspiracy is that there are no conspiracies. Everybody is out for himself. Life is a big black hole. There is no meaning."

"Your existentialism used to have some romance, Mercedes. What happened?"

Her phone beeped, and she glanced at a text message and shook her head. It must have been from Midas, Conrad thought. "Romance is dead," she told him. "And so are you if you go after Roman."

She took his hand to lead him back to the party when two security men came down the steps, talking softly into their radios. "You fool, it's too late," Mercedes said, sounding genuinely alarmed.

Conrad looked over his shoulder past the kaiser's stone pier. A light in the distance grew closer, and soon a dinghy emerged from the mist around nearby Mouse Island, like a boat from the River Styx, with a large, muscular colossus of a man standing at the prow.

"You've got to be kidding me." Conrad had started to turn back to Mercedes when he felt the stab of a needle in his neck and blacked out.