Deep Fathom

In the bright lights, David watched the Perseus, piloted by Lieutenant Brentley, slowly circle the large sea base. Now assembled, the structure contained almost four thousand square feet of living space.

Cortez sat down at the console. “Watch the three center monitors; I’m going to bring up the inner cameras. One for each level of the complex.”

Murky images appeared on the screens, watery views of dim rooms. Little detail could be discerned. The only light filtered through tiny portholes along the curved walls.

“What am I looking at?” David asked.

Cortez tapped the first monitor. “The lowest level is solely for docking the submersibles. The middle level houses the labs; the top level, living quarters.” He glanced over his shoulder at David. “We chose this arrangement so, in case of emergency, the top level could be freed manually and rise to the surface on its own. There are multiple redundant safety features built throughout the complex.”

David sighed, not bothering to hide his exasperation. “Fine. Are you ready to drain the complex or not?”

“Certainly. We’ve triple-checked everything.”

“Then let’s get this done. I’m due to leave within the hour.” Off to the side, David caught the relieved smile pass between the two technicians. It seemed his team’s absence would not be missed.

“We were just awaiting your arrival.” Cortez busied himself at one of the computers. He spoke into a microphone. “Perseus, this is Topside. Clear for blowout. I repeat, clear for blowout.”

On one of the monitors the torpedo-shaped submersible banked sharply and glided away from the sea base. Lieutenant Brentley’s voice scratched from a set of speakers. “Roger that. Clearing out.”

“Here we go,” Cortez said. He tapped a series of buttons on his keyboard. “Level 1…blowing. Level 2…blowing. Level 3…blowing.”

On the screens the view of the deep-sea station vanished in an explosion of bubbles, the visibility obscured by the roiling waters.

“Look.” Cortez pointed to the center monitors.

The interior views were clearing as the water lines dropped below the level of the camera lenses. Within a few minutes the water drained away, leaving the rooms wet but habitable. Interior lights flickered, then blazed.

“Bringing the pressure down to one atmosphere,” Cortez said. “Checking hull integrity.” He smiled up at David. “Green lights all around, Commander. Neptune is ready for company.”

David clapped the Mexican on the shoulder. As much as he hated to admit it, the man knew his job. “Good work, Cortez.”

“We can take it from here, Commander.” The research leader stood up from his console. “I know you’ve been ordered away for a few days, but there’s no need to worry. My team won’t let you down.”

“It had better not,” David said as he turned to leave, but he could not give his statement much heat. Cortez ran a tight ship.

Leaving the command center, David climbed down to the deck. As soon as he pushed out of the air-conditioned superstructure and into the heat, he was met by his second-in-command.

Rolfe was dressed in a black flight jacket. “We’re loaded and ready, sir,” he said. “Jeffreys just heard from our contacts on Pohnpei. Jack Kirkland and the woman landed an hour ago. They’re under surveillance as we speak.”

“Good.” Everything was going well. First the base, now this. It was as if Kirkland were trying to make his job easier, David thought. To extract the scientist and her crystal from the growing war zone around Okinawa would have been complicated. But out in the backwaters of Micronesia, on an island sympathetic to American concerns, it shouldn’t be a problem. Everything was falling into perfect place.

“Sir, Jeffreys also reports that the woman has been making inquiries about hiring a boat to take them all to some ruins on the southeast side of the island.”

David nodded. Overnight he had studied topographic maps of Pohnpei. He knew the island’s entire terrain by heart. “When are they planning to go out there?”

“Late afternoon.”

David thought a moment and nodded. There should just be enough time. “Get me Jeffreys. I want a boat arranged.” He zipped up his jacket. “We’re going to prepare a little welcome for Mr. Kirkland and his friends.”

4:34 P.M., Pohnpei Island, Madolenihmw Municipality

Jack’s headache still pounded behind his eyes. And the bumpy ride along the jungle road in an old rusted Jeep Cherokee wasn’t helping. Karen sat behind the wheel, squinting through the grimy window for landmarks.

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Miyuki asked from the rear seat. A particularly large bump sent the small woman flying for the roof. She swore at Karen in her native language.

“This is the right way,” Mwahu said, also in the backseat. “Bridge to Temwen Island is not far.”

“So you’ve been to Nan Madol before?” Karen asked, trying to glean more information from the man.

“Sacred place. I visit with father three times.”

Karen glanced at Jack, as if to stress the coincidence.

Jack rubbed his temples, trying to grind away the headache. After landing, he had finally slept a bit, but the pain of the last twenty-four hours could not be alleviated with a nap.

While he’d slept, Karen had hired a car and arranged for a boat to explore the ruins of Nan Madol. Because the best time to explore was at high tide, they were leaving late in the day, when boats could traverse the meter-deep canals. Otherwise, at low tide, it meant slogging through the ruins in knee-deep water and mud.

Clearing his throat, Jack sought some way to distract himself from the pounding in his skull. “Karen, you never did tell me the full story of Nan Madol. What’s so special about this place?”

“There are many stories and myths surrounding this island,” she replied, “but the story of Nan Madol’s origin is the most intriguing. According to the myth, two demigods, Olhosihpa and Olhosohpa, came to the island in a great ship from some lost land. With magical powers they transported the gigantic basalt logs across the island and helped the natives build the canal city. Some say the stone logs flew through the air.”

Jack shook his head. “Yeah, right.”

Karen shrugged. “Of course, who knows the truth for sure? But mysteries remain. Some of the stones weigh up to fifty tons. The entire complex of Nan Madol is composed of 250 million tons of crystalline basalt. How did it all get there?”