P.M., en route to Neptune base

Karen sat in the Sea Stallion helicopter. Through the windows, she watched dully as the ocean passed beneath her. Her face ached, and she could not completely swallow away the taste of blood. The beating from this morning had left her weak and sick. She had already vomited twice.

Across from her, Spangler lay slumped in his seat, eyes closed, lightly snoring. Three of his men took up the other seats, strapped in. One of them, Spangler’s second-in-command, stared at her. She glared back at him. He looked away, but not before she spotted the flicker of shame on his face.

She returned her attention to the sea, thinking, plotting. They might hurt her physically, but she would not give up fighting. As long as she lived, she would strive for a way to thwart Spangler and his team.

As she stared at the passing water, she leaned against the cool window. Even with all the horror of the past day, one worry remained foremost in her mind— Jack. Bound to the cell’s bed, she had heard the muffled explosions, felt the ship rock.

She closed her eyes, remembering the pain in his eyes as he swung through the door and left her behind. Was he alive? She made a silent promise to herself. She would survive, if only to answer that question.

Jack stood at the head of the worktable in Robert’s wet lab. His crew were seated around its length, including two newcomers to the Fathom: Miyuki and Mwahu. The pair had boarded a few hours ago.

The police had questioned all of them, but it was clear where the blame lay. They were released. The chief of police seemed more interested in seeing them gone from the area, than in getting to the bottom of the night’s attack and kidnapping. Jack suspected an unseen hand urging the whole matter to be brushed under the rug.

Rogue pirates was the final lame answer. The chief of police promised to continue the search for the missing anthropologist, but Jack knew it was a line of bullshit. As soon as they left, the matter would fade away.

With a wince of complaint from his wrapped rib cage, Jack lifted the backpack at his feet. It was Karen’s bag. He dumped its contents on the worktable. The crystal star rattled on the tabletop. Beside it dropped the platinum-bound book recovered from the crypt.

“We need answers,” he stated fiercely. He slid the book toward Miyuki. “First, we need this translated.”

Miyuki opened it. Jack knew what lay inside. Earlier, he had studied it himself. Its pages were thin sheaves of platinum, crudely etched with more of the hieroglyphic writing. “Gabriel and I will get to work on it immediately.”

Mwahu leaned over the book as Miyuki closed it. He touched the single symbol drawn into its top cover. A triangle within a circle. “ Khamwau,” he said. “I know this mark. My father teach. It means ‘danger.’ ”

“That’s a real surprise,” Kendall McMillan said sarcastically. Eyes turned in the accountant’s direction. Jack had offered to leave the nervous man on Pohnpei, but he had refused, stating, “With the cover-up going on here, I wouldn’t stand a rat’s ass of a chance getting off this island alive.” So he had stayed on the Fathom.

Returning his attention to the book, Jack said, “Mwahu, since you know some of the ancient language, maybe you could help Miyuki with its translation.”

Next, Jack passed the crystal star toward Charlie. “I need you to research its properties and abilities.”

“George…” Jack turned to the gray-haired historian. “I want you to continue researching the lost ships of this Dragon’s Triangle. See if you can spot any other patterns.”

Kendall McMillan frowned, speaking up again. “How is any of this going to pull our asses out of the fire? Why don’t we just lay low? Keep running.”

“Because we’d never stop running. They’d never stop hunting us. The only way out is to discover the true reason for the crash of Air Force One.” Jack leaned on his fists. “That answer lies at the heart of it all. I just know it!”

Lisa spoke up from the other end of the table. “But Kendall’s right. What are we going to do in the meantime? Where are we going to go?”

Lisa frowned. “But why? It’s heavily guarded by the military. We won’t have a chance of getting near there.”

Jack’s voice grew tight. “Because if David is heading anywhere, it’s there.”

Lawrence Nafe listened to the late night reports from each of his Joint Chiefs. The news was grim. The Chinese naval and air forces were holding U.S. forces at bay.

The Secretary of the Navy stood at the foot of the table. “Following the earthquakes, military bases up and down the West Coast are still struggling to dig out of the rubble, hampering an ability to sustain a prolonged conflict across the Pacific. A second aircraft carrier, the USS Abraham Lincoln, and its battle group are en route from the Indian Ocean. But it’s still three days out.”

Hank Riley, Commandant of the Marine Corps, answered, “We’re fighting this battle with one hand tied behind our back, sir. Our supply lines across the Pacific are weak at best. After the tidal waves, Honolulu is still under three feet of water. Its air bases—”

“I’ve already heard from the Air Force Chief of Staff,” Nafe said sourly. “I need answers, alternatives…”

General Hickman, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, stood. “We do have one option left to consider.”

“As has been mentioned already, we’re fighting this battle with one fist tied behind our backs. We can change that.”

Nafe sat up straighter. This was what he came to hear — answers, not problems. “What do you propose?”

A hush fell over the Situation Room. Nafe’s hands gripped his knees. He had already discussed such an option with Nicolas Ruzickov earlier in the day. Nafe tried to keep the excitement out of his voice. “Have you formulated a plan?”

The general nodded. “We break the blockade decisively. A balls-out response. Military targets only.”

“From two Ohio-class subs off the coast of the Philippines, we strike three critical zones with Trident Two missiles.” The general pointed out the targets on the highlighted map. “It’ll break the back of the blockade. The Chinese will be forced to retreat. But more importantly, they’ll get the message how serious we are to protect our interests in the region.”

Nafe flicked a look toward Nicolas Ruzickov. A similar scenario had been proffered by the CIA director. It was clear his influence and string-pulling had reached all the way to the Joint Chiefs. Nafe assumed a look of somber thoughtfulness, playing the concerned patrician. “A nuclear response.” He shook his head. “It’s a sorry day that the Chinese have driven us to.”

Nafe sighed, sagging as if defeated. “But tragically, I see no other choice. Proceed immediately.” After an appropriately long pause, he dragged himself to his feet. “And may God forgive us all.” He turned and strode to the room’s exit, flanked by his Secret Service.

Once out the door, Nicolas Ruzickov was not long in catching up with him in the hall, matching his stride.

Nafe allowed a slim smile to shine for a moment. “Well done, Nick. Well done indeed.”

Lisa spotted Jack by the bow rail, staring at the horizon. Overhead, the skies were slate-gray, with thin scudding clouds and a perpetual haze that even the noon sun had failed to burn away. Jack stood in his customary red trunks, a loose shirt open in front.

Elvis sat by his side, leaning against Jack’s leg. Lisa could not help but smile at the loyalty and affection in the simple gesture. One of Jack’s hands lightly ruffled the fur behind the dog’s ear.

Lisa crossed to him, compelled by the need to get something off her chest. “Jack…”

He turned toward her and winced, fingering the Ace bandage wrap around his chest. “What?”

She moved to his side, put her hands on the rail. The solitary moment gone, Elvis loped to a sunny spot on the deck and sprawled out.

Lisa stared out at sea, silent for a moment, then spoke. “Jack, why are we doing this?”

She turned to him, leaning a hip against the rail. “We’ve got the crystal. Miyuki says she’s close to a translation. Why don’t we just keep a low profile until we have answers, then send the entire story out to the New York Times?”

Jack gripped the rail with fists. “If we did that, Jennifer would be dead before the first paper hit the stands.”

Silently, Lisa stared at him, searching his face to see if he recognized his slip of the tongue. He just kept staring off to sea. “Jennifer?”

Jack finally looked at her, his face a mask of hurt and confusion. “You know what I meant,” he mumbled, waving off any significance.

He sighed, but his shoulders remained tight. “Karen’s in this danger because of me. I…I ran off, leaving her with that madman.”

“And you explained why. Karen was right. Staying would have only gotten you both killed. If she’s as strong as you say she is, she’ll survive.”

“Only as long as she’s useful to that bastard.” He twisted away. “I have to try to rescue her. I can’t just keep running away.”

Lisa touched his shoulder lightly. “Jack, for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been running away. From Jennifer, the shuttle accident, your past. What’s stopping you now? What does this woman mean to you?”

“I…I don’t know.” Jack sagged, head hanging over the rail, studying the waves. Finally, he looked at Lisa again. “But I’d like the chance to find out.”

She slipped an arm around his waist. “That’s all I wanted to hear.” She leaned her head on his shoulder, swallowed back the twinge of sadness and the ache in her heart. Jack had finally opened himself, if only a crack, to a woman…and it wasn’t her.

He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, seeming to sense her sorrow. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not, Jack. But Christ, you’ve picked a hell of a time to fall in love.”

He returned her smile and kissed her forehead. They stood in each other’s arms until Mwahu called from an open doorway. “Miyuki says come!”

Lisa followed Jack as he strode after the dark-skinned islander. Belowdecks, Miyuki had set up a computer station atop Robert’s long worktable. The work space was crowded with printouts, scribbled notes, and coffee mugs.

She nodded, straightening her papers. “Gabriel succeeded. But Mwahu’s help was critical. With his ability to apply context to a score of symbols, Gabriel was able to compile the entire vocabulary. He’s translated everything — the crypt’s book, the pillar’s inscription, even the writing in the Chatan pyramids.”

She frowned. “The obelisk inscription appears to be mostly prayers, asking the gods for a good harvest, fertility, that sort of thing.” She teased out one page and read. “ ‘May the sun shine on the empty fields and make them fertile…may the bellies of our women grow heavy with children as plentiful as the fish of the sea.’ ”

“But the other writings are more interesting. They both describe the same thing — an ancient cataclysm.”

Jack picked up the book from the table. “Karen suggested something like that. A lost continent sunk during a great disaster.”

Miyuki nodded. “It recounts how his people, a seafaring tribe, once fished and traveled throughout the Pacific, some ten to twelve thousand years ago. Though they were fairly nomadic, their homeland was a large continent in the middle of the Pacific. They lived in small coastal villages and seaside towns. Then one day a hunter returned from a journey to the inner continent with ‘a piece of the sun’s magic.’ A magical stone that shone and glowed. Horon-ko spoke at length of how the gift granted his people the ability to make stones fly.”

“Exactly. They excavated other crystals…all at the same location deep in the interior of their continent. They carved tools and worship fetishes.”

It took less than five minutes to reconvene in Robert’s lab. Once everyone was settled, Lisa motioned to Miyuki. “Go on.”

With a nod, Miyuki quickly repeated the story, then continued anew. “These crystals changed Horon-ko’s people. They were able to build great cities and temples throughout many lands. As they spread, their society constructed elaborate mines, searching for more crystals. Then, one day, they found a rich vein of crystal buried in the heart of a hilltop. Over the course of fifteen years, they excavated the entire hill away, exposing the crystal spire.”

“So it would appear. They worshiped the spire, believing it a blessing from their gods. It became a great pilgrimage spot. In fact, Horon-ko was one of the priests of the pillar.”

“That’s the strange part,” Miyuki replied, turning to her computer system. “Gabriel, could you read the translation starting from section twenty?”

“Certainly, Professor Nakano,” the computer responded from the tiny speakers. “ ‘There came a time of bad omens. Strange lights were seen in the north. Ribbons of light, like waves of the sea, rode the night skies. The grounds trembled. The people came to the god pillar to pray for help. Sacrifices were made. But on that last day, the moon came and ate the sun. The goddess of night walked the land.’ ”

Gabriel continued, “ ‘The god pillar, angry at the moon, blazed brightly. The ground shook. Mountains fell, seas rose. Fires opened in the ground, swallowing villages. But the gods did not forsake us. A god of light stepped from the pillar and ordered us to build great ships. To gather our flocks and people. The god spoke of a terrible time of darkness, when the seas would rise up and swallow our land. In our great ships, we must travel the drowning seas. So we gathered our seeds and our animals. We built a great ship.’ ”

Gabriel continued his recitation, “ ‘The god spoke true. A great darkness filled the skies. For many moons the sun was gone. Fiery pits blazed, openings to the lower world. Killing smoke filled the air. It grew hot. The seas rose and took our lands. In great boats we traveled to the Land of Big Ice, far to the south. And once there—’ ”

Miyuki cut him off. “Thank you, Gabriel. That’s enough.” She stood. “The remainder of the book relates how the survivors kept their civilization’s history alive. They traveled all around the world, finding other races of man to whom to pass on their stories and teachings, until eventually they were spread so thin that their civilization ceased to exist. Only Horon-ko and a handful of others returned to the grave of their homeland to die. He warned those that remained to beware the old places and avoid trespassing lest the angry gods reawaken.” Miyuki sighed. “It is there the tale ends.”

Jack eyed George. “Does this help with your research into the Dragon’s Triangle?”

“I’m not sure.” The old historian had remained quiet during the discourse, smoking a pipe. He cleared his throat. “Earlier today I came up with intriguing statistics concerning the lost ships of the region. But I’m not sure what they mean.”

“Let me show you.” He rifled through his pockets, searching one then another. Finally, he yanked out a folded computer printout. “I plotted the number of recorded disappearances for each year, going back a hundred years.” He unfolded the paper.

“As you can see, there’s a pattern.” He tapped the paper. “The number of incidences peak and trough very regularly. The numbers grow to a certain peak then taper back off. The size of the peak varies, but not the frequency. There’s a distinct clustering every eleven years.”

“I’m not sure. I need to follow up on a few things.” Charlie turned to George. “Can I borrow this?”

Charlie shook his head, lost in thought. “Not yet.” He excused himself and crossed to his own lab, closing the door behind him.

They all stared after him until Lisa said, “So, Jack, now it’s your turn. What about Karen? What’s this rescue plan of yours?”

The submersible glided toward the deep-sea research station. From the rear passenger compartment of the two-man sub, Karen stared in awe. After twenty minutes of sinking through an ever-deepening gloom, the base had appeared below like a rising sun in the dark, lit by external lamps, its portholes aglow with a warm yellow radiance. She almost forgot about her situation as she gaped at the wondrous sight.

The sub dove toward the docking bay on the underside of the station’s lowest tier. As the vessel banked around, Karen noted the trundling boxlike robots at work hauling cables and equipment. Among them moved other figures: men in armored and helmeted deep-water suits. They looked like spacemen working on the surface of an alien planet — and considering the hostile environment and strangely twisted landscape of tumbled lava pillars, it was another world.

A lantern fish, attracted by their movement, drew nearer the sub. Karen stared back through the five inches of glass, two strangers from different lands ogling each other. Then, with a flick of its tail, it vanished back into the gloom.

From the forward compartment she heard the muffled voice of the sub’s pilot attending to the docking procedure, confirming and rechecking the station’s status.

An okay must have been given because the sub and its two occupants were rising through a garage-door-size hatch and into the docking bay. In short order the hatch was sealed and the water pumped out. Soon afterward, Karen was helped out of the sub’s cramped compartment.

She stretched a kink from her back. The pilot, Lieutenant Rolfe, ordered her to hold out her arms and then undid her handcuffs.

It was the first time since her capture that she was unfettered. Rubbing her wrists, she gazed around and understood why she was granted this new freedom. Where could she go? There was no better maximum-security prison in the world. Escape was unthinkable.

A door opened near the rear of the bay. A man in his early sixties, gray-haired and stocky, stormed inside to join them. He strode up to the lieutenant. “What is the meaning of this? There was no reason to bring her down here. The professor could have aided us just as well topside. The risks to her—”

“Those were my orders, Dr. Cortez,” Rolfe said curtly. “The prisoner is your responsibility from here.”

Cortez moved to block the lieutenant, then thought better of it. “And what about these new orders? Your commander can’t be serious.”

“You’ve read the reports.” The lieutenant climbed back into the pilot’s seat. “I’ll be returning next with Commander Spangler. Take up your objections with him.”

Cortez’s attention shifted to Karen, his brows furrowing as he took in the condition of her face. “What the hell happened to her?” He reached a tentative hand toward her puffy eye, but she shied from him. Cortez swung on the lieutenant. “Answer me, goddamn it!”

The lieutenant avoided eye contact. “Take it up with Commander Spangler,” he repeated, from the sub’s pilot compartment.

The researcher’s face darkened. “C’mon,” he said brusquely to Karen. “I’ll have Dr. O’Bannon take a look at you.”

“I’m fine,” she said as she followed him toward the exit. Earlier, she had been given a couple of aspirin and a shot of antibiotics. She was sore but not incapacitated.

Once through the hatch, Cortez led her to the upper deck ladders. He gave her a running tour of the facility as he guided her up. Karen listened intently, impressed by her surroundings. She was two thousand feet underwater. It was hard to believe.

She climbed the ladder up to the second tier, where men and women bustled around minilabs. Heads turned in her direction as she stepped forward. Whispers were shared. She knew what a sight she must look.

“…and the level up from here is the living quarters. Tight but with all the conveniences of home.” He tried a weak smile.

Cortez sighed. “I’m sorry, Professor Grace,” he said. “This is hardly the most opportune way for colleagues to meet and—”

“Colleagues?” She frowned at him. “I’m a prisoner, Professor Cortez.”

Her words wounded him. “That was none of our doing. I assure you. Commander Spangler has full control and authority over these facilities. With the nation at war, we have little say. Our research here has been labeled a matter of national security. Liberties have been taken in the name of protecting our nation’s shores.”

Cortez frowned, not seeming to see the significance. “The best way to keep further…um—” He frowned at her bruised face. “—abuses of power from occurring is to cooperate. To work from within. After this is over, I’m sure the government will have a place for you.”

Bullshit, Karen thought. She knew where her place would be: six feet under, shot as a spy. But she saw no need to burst this man’s bubble. “So what have you learned down here?” she asked, changing the subject.

He brightened. “Quite a lot. We managed to harvest a small sample of the crystal. After a cursory study, it has displayed the most surprising properties.”

“But with the newest directives from Washington, any further research has been put on hold.”

“With the war so close, Washington now considers the site too vulnerable. Just yesterday we were ordered to extract the crystal pillar and ship it back to the United States for further study. But now even that order’s been changed.”

“Initial assays of the sediment and seabed show the spire is but a single pinnacle of a larger sample. Much larger. At the moment, we’ve not even been able to determine the deposit’s true depth and extent. So far the damned thing has defied standard scanning methods. All we know is that it’s massive. Once word reached Washington of our newest discovery, our orders were revised.” His eyes narrowed with worry. “Rather than just the pillar, we’ve been ordered to harvest the entire deposit if possible.”

In the distance she could just make out a tall spire beyond the lights. Jack’s pillar! Around the area, more of the armor-suited deep-sea workers labored. “Who are those men?”

“The Navy’s demolitions experts. They plan to use explosives to blast a hole into the core of the deposit, then mine the load from there.”

He looked stricken, too. “I know. I’ve been trying to urge caution. This whole region is geologically unstable. We’ve had daily temblors and even one serious quake two days ago. But no one will listen to me. That’s why — regardless of the circumstances of your arrival — I’m glad to have you here with us. If we knew what was written on the obelisk, it might stay the government’s hand longer, buy us some time for our own research.”

Karen balked at helping her captors, but the thought of the ancient artifact’s destruction disturbed her even more. She stepped away from the porthole. “What if I can point you in the right direction about the inscription?”

Karen said, “I’ll need a computer and your current research into the language.”

He waved for her to follow him and kept his voice low. “Rick is our team’s archaeologist. He’s still topside, but I can have him transmit the data to an empty workstation.”

As Cortez led her to an unoccupied cubicle, Karen calculated, planned. As much as it bothered her to deceive the man, she had no choice. “If you can get me an open Internet line,” she said, “I’ll show you what I’ve learned.”

Jack knocked on Charlie’s door. No one had heard from the geologist all day except George Klein, and afterward the historian locked himself into the ship’s small library. The two were clearly working on something, but Jack was losing his patience.

Without invitation, Jack pushed inside. What he found startled him. Charlie’s usually tidy lab was in a shambles. The worktable along one wall was covered in equipment and gadgets. In the center of the mess, the crystal star was clamped in a stainless steel vise. Charlie’s computer displayed inexplicable graphs and tables. Jack had to step over piles of journals and scientific magazines. Specific articles were ripped and hung on the bare wall.

It was as if a hurricane had struck there. And Charlie looked no better. His eyes were red-rimmed, his lips chapped. His clothes — baggy shorts and a shirt — were stained with ink, oil, and grease. It was hot and humid in the room, and sweat soaked his armpits and lower back.

Jack noticed that the room’s single fan had been unplugged to make outlet room for Charlie’s equipment. Jack yanked a cord, shoved in the fan’s plug and switched it to high.

The geologist ran a hand through his hair. “Research. What do you think?” He kicked aside some of the scattered magazines and pulled up a chair, sitting on its edge.

“How could I? It’s amazing. Nothing like this substance has ever been discovered. I’m sure of it. I’ve hit it with every test I can manage here: the mass spectrometer, the proton magnetometer, X-ray diffraction. But it defies everything. At this point I couldn’t tell you its atomic weight, its valence, its specific gravity — nothing! I can’t even get the friggin’ thing to melt.” He tapped his mini-oven. “And this thing heats to a temperature of seven hundred degrees.”

“I…I have my theories.” Charlie bit his lip. “But you have to understand. My research is still preliminary. A lot is still speculative.”

“I’d better take you through it a step at a time. After I heard your description of the crystal’s effect on basalt, it got me thinking. I tried to repeat the effect on other rocks. Granite, obsidian, sandstone. No luck. Only basalt.”

“That’s just what I wondered. Basalt is actually hardened magma. Not only is it abundant in prismatic crystals, but it’s rich in iron, too. So rich, in fact, it’s capable of being magnetic.”

“You remember the strange magnetization of Air Force One’s metal parts. The same thing happens to basalt when it comes in close contact with the energized crystal. When powered, the crystal is able to emit a strange magnetizing energy.”

“But you still had mass, didn’t you? It is gravity that gives mass its weight. The more gravity, the more something weighs.”

Jack began to catch on. “So the crystal is not changing the mass of an object, it’s changing gravity’s effect on it.”

Charlie rolled a chunk of basalt toward Jack. He caught it. “Do you even know what gravity is?”

“According to Einstein’s Unified Field Theory, gravity is merely a frequency.”

“Pretty much. The frequency of Earth’s gravity has been determined to be 10¹² hertz, somewhere between shortwave radio and infrared radiation. If you could get an object to resonate at this frequency, it would lose its weight.”

“Yes. The crystal emits this energy. It magnetizes the basalt’s iron content, which triggers the crystalline structure to resonate. Vibrating at a frequency equal to gravity, the rock loses its weight.”

“Actually, I learned it within the first hour of experimenting with the crystal. That was the easy part. But understanding the energy radiating from the crystal— that was the hard part.” Charlie grinned tiredly at him.

“It’s a force conjectured by a cosmologist, Michael Turner, in an article in the Physical Review Letters.” Charlie nodded to one of the pages taped to the wall. “After the Big Bang, the universe blew outward, spreading in all directions. And it’s still expanding. But from the newest studies of the movement of distant galaxies and the brightness of super-novas, it is now accepted that the rate of expansion is accelerating.”

“The universe is expanding faster and faster. To explain this phenomenon, a new force had to be coined—‘dark energy.’ A strange force that keeps the universe expanding by repelling gravity. ”

“It’s a theory I’m working to prove. But it’s a theory that could possibly explain the crystal’s substance, too. Dark energy is tied to another theoretical bit of physics — dark matter. ”

“Exactly, mon, what astronomers call luminous matter. Stuff we can see. Stuff that lights up the sky. But there is not enough of the observable stuff to explain the motion of galaxies or the current expansion of the universe. According to calculations of physicists, for every gram of luminous matter there must be nine grams of matter we can’t see. Invisible matter.”

“Exactly.” Charlie nodded, his gaze flicking to the crystal. “We know a lot of the missing matter is just run-of-the-mill stuff: black holes, dark planets, brown dwarves, and other material our telescopes just haven’t been able to detect. But with ninety percent of the universe’s matter still missing, most physicists suspect the true source of dark matter will be something totally unexpected.”

“Why not? The crystal acts as a perfect superconductor, absorbing energy so completely that most methods for scanning for its presence would fail.”

“So astronomers have been looking the wrong way all along. Rather than in the night sky, they should have been looking under their own feet.”

Jack finally understood Charlie’s drive. If he was right, the answer to the fundamental mysteries of the universe’s origin lay in this room — not to mention a source of amazing power. A power never seen before. Jack pictured the massive crystal on the seabed floor. What could the world do with such an energy source?

George appeared in the open doorway behind him, shuffling papers. “Charlie, you should…oh, Jack, you’re here.” George looked disheveled and out of sorts.

Charlie nodded to George. “His graph. The fact that every eleven years the number of ships missing in the area spiked. It got me thinking. It looked familiar, especially the dates. I rechecked George’s data. His graph follows almost exactly the cycle of sunspot activity. Every eleven years the sun enters a period of increased magnetic storms. Sunspots and solar flares reach peaks of activity. These peaks coincided with the years when the most vessels vanished in the region.”

“Not exactly. I was already researching this angle. Remember on the day of the Pacificwide quakes, there was an eclipse coinciding with a major solar storm. I wondered if there might be some correlation.”

“You think the solar storms triggered the quakes — and the pillar had something to do with it?”

“Think about the platinum book. Even back then, the writer reports seeing strange lights in the northern skies before the big quake. The aurora borealis. It grows more brilliantly and expands far south during a solar storm. The ancients were experiencing a peak of solar activity prior to the disaster.”

“Then let me put it all together for you. You remember our talk about the Dragon’s Triangle a few days back?”

“And do you remember me telling you how it is exactly opposite the infamous Bermuda Triangle? How the two create some type of axis through the planet that causes disturbances in the magnetic lines of the Earth? Well, now I think I have an explanation. I would wager there are two massive deposits of this ‘dark matter’ crystal — one under the Dragon’s Triangle and one under the Bermuda Triangle. The two poles have been acting like the positive and negative ends of a battery, creating a massive electromagnetic field. I believe it is this field that drives the Earth’s magma to flow.”

Jack tried to wrap his mind around this concept. “The Earth’s battery? Are you serious?”

“I’m beginning to think so. And if I’m right, those ancients made a horrible mistake by digging free a sliver of this battery and exposing it to direct sunlight. They made it vulnerable to the big solar storm. A lightning rod, if you will. The crystal took the solar radiation, converted it into dark energy, and whipped up the Earth’s magma core, creating the tectonic explosion that destroyed the continent.”

“And you’re suggesting something like that happened here two weeks ago?”

“A watered-down version of it, yes. Remember in the past the pillar was on dry land. Today it’s insulated by six hundred meters of water. The depths served to shield it from the strongest of the storm’s energy. It would’ve taken a significant solar event to trigger the recent quakes.”

George lifted his hand to speak, but Jack interrupted, afraid to lose his train of thought. “How does all this tie into the President’s plane?”

“If it was passing over the site when the crystal was radiating, the dark energy could have damaged the jet’s systems. I’ve noted strange fluxes myself when experimenting with the crystal: magnetic spikes, EM surges, even tiny fluctuations in time, not unlike your own short lapses in the sub. I bet these bursts of energy have been messing with vessels in the area for centuries.”

Charlie shrugged. “I don’t purport to be an expert on dark energy…at least not yet. But can you imagine the devastation here millennia ago? Quakes that tore apart continents. Massive volcanic eruptions. Ash clouds that circled the world. Floods.”

Jack remembered words in the ancient text: the time of darkness. The insulating layer of ash would have created a greenhouse effect, melting the ice caps and drowning their ravaged lands.

“We got off easy,” Charlie said. “Can you imagine living during that time?”

George held up a sheet of paper. “I contacted the Marshall Space Flight Center. I confirmed what you wanted, Charlie. On July twenty-first, four days before the quakes, the Yohkoh satellite recorded a massive CME on the sun’s surface.”

“Coronal mass ejection,” Charlie translated. “Like a super solar flare. They can hurl billions of tons of ionized gas from the sun’s surface. It takes four days for the explosion to hit the Earth, creating a geomagnetic storm. To support my theory, I postulated that such a violent event would have been necessary for the submerged pillar to react so severely.”

George sighed. “They also confirmed that the epicenter for the Pacific quakes has been calculated to be where the pillar lies. At the spot where Air Force One crashed.”

Jack turned to George. The historian held a second piece of paper, at which he was glancing nervously. “You have more news, don’t you?”

George swallowed. “After I contacted the Space Center, they forwarded the latest pictures from the Japanese satellite. Another coronal mass ejection occurred just three days ago. It was the biggest ever recorded.” George stared at them. “A hundred times larger than the last one.”

“Oh, shit,” Charlie said, his grin fading away. “When does NASA expect its energy wave to hit us?”

Charlie looked over at him. “We’re not talking quakes and tidal waves this time. We’re talking the end of the world.”

Miyuki sat at the worktable in the marine biology lab. In the background she heard the muffled voices of Jack and a pair of his crew talking animatedly in the geology suite. Around her a thousand eyes watched from the clear plastic specimen jars lining the shelves and cabinets. It made it hard to concentrate.

Shaking her head against these distractions, Miyuki continued her own line of research. Earlier she had Gabriel do a global search through all the rongorongo examples gleaned from Easter Island to see if there were any other references to the pillar or the ancient disaster. She had little luck. A few scant allusions, but nothing significant. Now she was rereading through the passages in the platinum diary.

At her elbow, the briefcase-mounted computer chimed. Gabriel’s voice came through the tiny speakers. He had been assigned to work out a linguistic equivalent to the language, using phonetics supplied by Mwahu. Miyuki looked up from her sheets.

Miyuki almost fell out of her chair. “Karen…?” She slid in front of the computer. “Gabriel, patch in the call!”

Above the flat monitor, the one-inch video camera blinked on. On the screen, a cascade of pixels slowly formed a jerky image of her friend. Miyuki leaned near the microphone. “Karen! Where are you?”

Karen’s computer image flittered. “I don’t have much time. I was able to contact Gabriel with your coded address for him on the Internet. He was able to encrypt this video line, but I can’t trust that someone won’t catch on.”

The captain of the Fathom poked his head out of the geology lab, his face worried. “What is it?”

His eyes widened. He fell out the door of the geology lab and stumbled around the table. “What do you—” Then he came in view of the computer’s screen. He rushed forward, leaning close. “Karen, is that you?”

Karen watched Jack’s face form in the small square in the lower right-hand side of her computer monitor. He was alive! Tears welled in her eyes.

She coughed to clear her throat, then briefly summarized the past twenty-four hours: her capture, the trip by helicopter, the imprisonment in the sea base. Afterward, she continued, “I tossed a bone the researchers’ way and told them about the rongorongo connection. It’s a useless lead without the additional examples we discovered, but they don’t know that. By feigning cooperation, they’ve given me a little latitude.” She looked over her shoulder when a spat of laughter echoed down the curving length of the tier. “The others are up at dinner or working in private. I don’t know how long I can keep this line open without arousing suspicion.”

Karen leaned closer to the screen. “I wanted you to know. They’re planning to blow up the obelisk sometime tomorrow afternoon. They’ve probed the area and seem to believe there’s a larger deposit under it. The tip of the proverbial iceberg.”

She listened as Jack sketchily recounted what they had learned from the platinum book and Charlie’s theories. Karen sat frozen as the story unfolded: ancient disasters, dark matter, solar storms. She listened with her mouth hanging open as Jack told her of the coming danger.

A new face appeared on the screen. Jack made the introduction. “This is Charlie Mollier, the ship’s geologist.”

“So what do we do?” Karen asked. Sweat trickled down her back. She was sure she would be caught any moment.

“Tell me about the explosives and intent of the demolition squad,” Charlie said.

Karen explained the Navy’s plan to blast into the core of the crystal’s main vein.

Jack spoke up. “Maybe that’d be good. At least the pillar won’t be poking out any longer.”

“No,” Charlie said, “if they succeed, it’ll make matters worse. They’ll be laying open the very heart of the deposit, increasing, not lessening, the area of exposure to the solar storm. The only way to protect against this disaster is to bury the pillar or cleanly clip it off, separating it from the main deposit.”

Karen checked her watch. If the geologist was right, they had only seventeen hours. “What if we specifically target the crystal pillar with the explosives?”

“Still dangerous,” Charlie mumbled. “Even if you could arrange it, the kinetic energy of the blast could be absorbed into the main deposit.” He shook his head. “It’s risky. The strength of an explosion sufficient to crack a pillar of that immense size could trigger the very disaster we’re trying to avoid.”

The video phone line went silent as parties pondered the hopelessness of their situation.

Karen chewed on this idea. “I could try enlisting the aid of the head researcher here. Dr. Cortez. He’s cautioned the Navy against blasting the crystal, and I don’t think he’s a big fan of Spangler’s, either.”

“I don’t know,” Jack said. “I’m suspicious of anyone working alongside that bastard.”

Jack frowned and looked directly into the camera. “But can we trust him, Karen?”

She sat quiet for a long moment, then sighed. “I think so. But I’ll need your data. I’ll need to convince him.”

Miyuki spoke from off screen. “I’ll compile all the translations, and prepare Gabriel to transmit everything.”

“Great,” Jack replied. He turned back to the camera, and Karen thought he seemed to stare right into her heart. “How are you doing?” he asked softly.

“Considering the fact that I’m imprisoned a mile under the sea and the world’s gonna end tomorrow, I’m not too bad.”

She remembered her black eye, fingering its sore edges. “No, I fell onto a doorknob…a few times in a row.”

She sat straighter. “Don’t take the guilt for this, Jack. I’d rather be where I am now than back at the university, oblivious to all this. If there’s a way to stop what’s gonna happen, I’d rather be here on the front lines.”

Miyuki spoke from off screen. “I’ve got all the data collected. But to send it, I’ll need this video line to upload the information.”

“Y-Yes,” Karen fought to keep her voice from breaking. She hated the thought of losing contact with her friends.

“Gabriel will keep monitoring this channel afterward,” Miyuki said. “Use his code if you want to speak to us.”

Jack leaned nearer, his face filling the little screen. “Be careful, Karen. David is an ass, but he’s no fool.”

They stared at one another for an extra breath. Jack kissed his fingers and pressed them against the screen. “I’ll get you out of there.”

Before she could answer, the phone line switched off and the video square vanished. Replacing it was a colored bar, filling slowly with the incoming data stream. She directed the information to a DVD recorder. Alone, she waited for the file to be transmitted.

Karen turned. David was climbing up from the lower deck. He was supposed to be out in the Perseus, overseeing the demolition team. He must have returned early.

Barefoot and in a wet suit, he stepped from the ladder and moved toward her. “I told Cortez to keep someone with you at all times. What are you doing here unattended?”

She fixed a bland expression on her face. Out of the corner of her eye she watched the colored bar fill slowly. “I gave Cortez what you wanted. The key to the ancient script. They’re researching it and didn’t want my help.”

He glanced at the screen, then back at her. His eyes narrowed. “If you’re not needed, you should be confined to your quarters.” He grabbed her by the shoulder. “Come with me.”

He yanked her to her feet. She dared not even glance back at the screen, lest it draw his attention. “Why confine me?” she asked boldly, stepping in front of him, blocking his view. “Where am I going to go?”

David scowled. “Because those were my orders. No one goes against them. Not even Cortez.”

The back of his hand struck her face, hard, knocking her to the side. Caught by surprise, Karen gasped and almost fell to one knee. She grabbed her chair to keep upright.

“No one questions my orders,” he said thickly. Rubbing the back of his hand, his eyes flicked to the computer monitor.

David glanced along the curved row of labs, clearly suspicious, looking for some evidence of a foul plan. She saw his nostrils flaring, scenting the air like a bloodhound, before he whipped back toward her.

He leaned near her. “I can smell Kirkland on you, bitch. I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’ll find out.”

He snatched her by the elbow, fingers digging hard. “Now let’s find the others. It’s time they were taught a thing or two about military protocol.”

As she was pulled away she glanced at the empty workstation. Hidden on a little silver disk over there were the answers to everything — ancient mysteries, the origin of the universe, even the fate of the world. She had to find a way to place it in the hands of someone who could help. But how?

Jack sat on a stool in the geology lab. Charlie worked at his computer, reviewing his data. Both were searching for answers. Jack struggled to think, but Karen’s face, bruised and scared, kept appearing in his head, distracting him. He closed his eyes. “How ’bout if we tried short-circuiting the damn thing?”

“You said the deposit acts like some electromagnetic battery. What if we, I don’t know, overloaded it or something.”

Charlie turned from his computer, frowning tiredly. “That would only accelerate—” The geologist’s frown deepened. Jack could practically see the calculations running in the man’s head.

His eyes focused back on Jack. “No, not at all. But you’ve given me an idea.” He stood, crossed to the worktable and scrounged through his gadgetry. In a few moments Charlie had a spare marine battery hooked to a meter.

“Running a little experiment.” He lifted the battery’s leads and connected them to the steel clamps holding the crystal star. He put on one of Robert’s night vision masks. “Can you hit the lights?”

Jack slid off his stool and flicked the switch. In the dark cabin, he heard Charlie shuffling around. Then he heard a tiny snap of electricity. A blue arc zapped between the battery’s leads, painfully bright in the dark. The crystal artifact lit up like a real star.

The radiant light fractured into a spectrum of colors. Jack remembered a similar sight — when the electromagnet used to haul up sections of Air Force One had brushed too near the pillar. The spire had glowed with the same brightness.

As he watched, the star grew brighter and brighter. He raised a hand to shield his eyes. Charlie was bent over the star, flicking his gaze between it and the meter. One hand turned a dial. The hum of the battery grew louder.

The star began to rise from the table, floating a few inches off the surface. Its light was almost too intense. An electric tingling swept through the air. The small hairs began to dance on Jack’s arms, and the fillings in his teeth began to ache in his jaw. It was like being back in the sub.

His eyes were drawn to a wall clock, hanging above the experiment. The second hand was running in the wrong direction.

Then a loud crack exploded in the small space. Darkness fell over the room. Jack heard the crystal star drop back to the tabletop with a clatter.

Jack rubbed the tingling from his arms, then flipped the switch. “What were you doing?”

Using tongs, Charlie picked up the star. The steel clamps holding it glowed hot. “Hmm…interesting…”

The geologist tilted the star for Jack to see. Within the clamps, the crystal had cracked in half.

Karen tried not to cry. She sat on a narrow cot in a cabin no larger than a half bath. What was she going to do? David had gathered the entire crew of the station in the dining room. He spent fifteen minutes browbeating them all. One of the scientists made the mistake of asking a simple question. For his impudence, David shattered his nose with a sudden blow. The room had grown deathly silent afterward. David had proven his point. He was the master here. After his demonstration, he stormed out with Karen in tow.

She soon found herself locked in this cabin. It all seemed impossible, hopeless. Over the past two days, she had hardly slept at all. She was sore, exhausted, and drained.

As a sob welled up from deep inside, a soft knock sounded on her door. “Dr. Grace?”

She stood as she heard the key in the lock. The older scientist slipped in and closed the door behind him. “I’m sorry to disturb you so late.”

“No, it’s okay. I can use the company.” She allowed the relief to ring in her voice.

“He’s one scary bastard, isn’t he? I should never have left you alone down there. I wasn’t thinking. I was too excited about your discovery of the connection to the Rapa Nui script.”

She nodded, allowing him the fantasy that it would have any impact. Spangler was operating under the guise of the highest office in the nation. He could act with full impunity.

Cortez continued, “I came here to see if you could help us. We’re still having trouble deciphering these glyphs.”

Karen swallowed. If there was to be any hope, it was time to start trusting someone else. No more games. “Dr. Cortez, I haven’t been totally honest.”

“I possess the full translation. Not only of the pillar’s inscription, but additional texts written at the time of the obelisk’s discovery.”

Cortez sat stunned, silent, then tried to talk. “I don’t…how could…but when…?”

“I have information I must get to someone in authority,” Karen said. “Someone out of Spangler’s chain of command.”

Karen stood. “I know how it must sound. But get me to the workstation on Level 2, and I’ll get you proof.”

Karen stared him down. “After tonight’s demonstration, who are you willing to trust more, Spangler or me?”

Cortez bowed his head for a moment, then pushed off his stool. “That’s no contest. C’mon, the commander is bunked out in his cabin, but his second-in-command is patrolling. Stick to my side. As long as you’re with me, we should be okay.” He opened the door.

Karen followed him out. Though there was no ban on her being free under supervision, it still felt like a prison break. Both crept silently through the living quarters, peeking around corners, holding their breath. No one was around.

They got to the ladder heading down to the lab level, and Cortez went first. He signaled the all clear for her to follow. As she climbed, the interlevel hatch sealed with a snug hiss. Silently, they worked around the ring of labs to the tiny station assigned to her.

Karen pointed Cortez to the chair, while she remained standing. “I have the data on a disk.” Reaching past him, she punched the keyboard, calling up the information.

Data scrolled across the screen. She helped guide the researcher through the information, pointing out the text of the platinum book and where it was found. She gave him a shortened version of her own exploits and Jack’s.

After a bit, Cortez waved her silent. He leaned closer, his fingers flying over the keyboard, calling up screen after screen of data. Much of it was too technical for Karen, but Cortez was drinking it up. “This Charles Mollier is an amazing scientist. What he’s discovered about the crystal in such a short time — it’s astounding! But it corroborates much of my own early testing.” He continued reading through the streaming text and graphs.

As he did so, Karen watched his face slowly change from amazement to horror. Once done, he sat back and took off his glasses. “I knew we should have proceeded with more caution. It’s madness to be fooling with a power of this magnitude.”

She crouched beside him. “Will you help get this to somebody who will listen? We have only fifteen hours until the solar storm strikes.”

“Yes, of course. I have friends at Los Alamos and at the Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory. There are ways to circumvent the normal government channels.”

She typed in Gabriel’s code on the computer keyboard. Almost immediately, a voice came over the speakers. “How may I help you, Dr. Grace?”

“No one…really.” Karen directed her attention back to the computer. “Gabriel, I need to contact the Deep Fathom. ”

The connection whirred through to the distant ship, and a small video window bloomed in the screen’s corner. Miyuki’s face flickered into existence. “Karen?”

Miyuki vanished from the camera’s view for a few moments, then Jack and Charlie appeared. Introductions were quickly made.

“Do either of you have any recommendations?” Cortez asked. “I can get the information to the right people, but what then? From the data, I can only assume we must find a way to block the solar storm’s bombardment from reaching the main deposit. That leaves few options.”

Jack nodded. “We’ve been discussing it. The easiest method is to shield the pillar. Bury it, seal it in a lead box, something like that. But I don’t know if either is feasible in the narrow time frame. If this can’t be done, then we take our chances and adjust the explosives to a specific focused charge, aimed at cracking the pillar from its base.”

“We know, but like I said, it’s our second option. And it’s better than doing nothing because there’s only one option after that.”

Charlie spoke into the silence. “I’ll keep working with the crystal, see if I can come up with anything else.” But he didn’t sound hopeful.

Jack continued, “That leaves only one other obstacle — Spangler. I can’t risk leaving Karen over there any longer than necessary. Once word reaches David that yo

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