The Einstein Papers

CHAPTER 16

Later that same night a light drizzle began falling on the salvage ship Deep Search. Her twin catamaran hulls allowed the vessel to ride smoothly on rough seas and she barely rocked as she anchored atop the Windforce. Inside the recovery bay of the Deep Search, a yellow glow from the lights overhead bathed a pair of salvage technicians who were busy checking the slings and winches in preparation for the job ahead. Captain Holtz paced nervously as he spoke into the satellite telephone. "Yes, we are certain of the identity. Shall we proceed to salvage the wreck?" Over eight thousand miles across the globe the Chinese prime minister and a small group of men conferred. At last, their spokesman acknowledged Holtz's question.

"Yes, bring it up, then make your way to Boston as quickly as possible."

"We can only recover nine-tenths of the boat easily. What little is left of the stern section is broken into too many pieces to raise."

"It's only a small section of the stern, right?" the spokesman asked.

"Correct, only a few feet. What little there is left is not worth the intense effort necessary to raise it," Captain Holtz answered.

"That's fine. Leave the stern pieces and raise only the main section."

"Very good," Holtz said.

Holtz replaced the phone and turned to First Officer Dietz.

"Let's do it," Holtz said quickly.

In the recovery bay the remote-operated vehicle was dropped down into the water. When it touched bottom, the operators directed jets of water to bore tunnels under the hull.

The ROVs pincer arms held wide canvas straps that trailed behind the jets of water and wrapped around the hull. Maneuvering to the other side of the hull the ROV grabbed the end of the straps poking from beneath the wreck, then propelled to the surface with the straps in its arms. The straps were returned to the recovery bay and the ends were taken by the salvage crewmen and fed into electric winches.

Engaging the motors on the winches the straps were slowly tightened. As Captain Holtz monitored the progress from the pilothouse with the underwater camera, the sailboat was winched upright on the bottom.

Once upright and stabilized, the Windforce, a battered hulk containing the greatest scientific discovery of all time, began to make its way slowly to the surface. Twenty minutes later, the Windforce broke through the water in the recovery bay and was winched into the open air. Almost immediately, the doors of the bay slid closed underneath and the sloop sat in slings, above water once again.

In the recovery bay the intercom blared: "Stations please, we will soon be under way." The noise emanating from the engine room increased as the Deep Search set a course for Boston at twelve knots. While the salvage ship made its way north, the salvage technicians immediately began to probe the interior of the old sailboat. The salvagers showed little respect for the skeletal remains of Ivar Halversen. The bones forming his skeleton were yanked free from where they were trapped and tossed into a corner of the bay. They formed a crude pile of what appeared to be bleached driftwood. The barren pile was unceremoniously crowned with the skull, which had been picked clean by crabs.

Like grave robbers in an ancient tomb, the salvagers on the Deep Search showed little respect for history. To them, the Windforce, a boat that belonged in a museum, was little more than an assemblage of planks. It was merely a rotting, soggy pile of junk sheathing a package they had been paid handsomely to plunder.

First Officer Dietz led the efforts to find the package's elusive hiding place. First, the wooden slats that formed the Windforce's berth were ripped out, revealing nothing. Next, crowbars in hand, the technicians began to rip apart the interior panels of the once proud little craft.

The pile of rotting boards mounted on the inside of the sailboat. As the galley was being disassembled, a technician stopped and motioned to Dietz. The first officer walked over and peered through a crack in the interior wood. His eye caught a glimpse of a black package attached to a side wall below where the alcohol stove had resided. Dietz quickly reached for the crowbar a nearby technician held in his outstretched hand. Then he stopped himself.

"You better hand me the instant camera," Dietz said flatly. After shooting a series of photographs, he picked up the crowbar once again and pried the panel carefully away. The slats that formed the wall came apart one by one, the tongue-and-groove work cracking as Dietz bore down on the crowbar. Once the wall was removed, Dietz reached in and wrenched the package from inside. It came away easily and Dietz retracted his arm with the package in his hand. Standing up from his crouch, Dietz hefted the package and stared.

Inside the package, wrapped in oilskin and covered in a black rubber wrap, was what felt like a bundle of papers. The outside of the package was covered with numbers and symbols in a distinctive scrawl. Dietz quickly took an instant photo of the outside, then climbed from the Windforce and made his way topside to report to the captain. One of Einstein's legacies had been unearthed.