White Death

Hampered by his wound, Ryan had only taken a quick gulp of air before plunging into the lake, and his lungs were only partially filled. He saw the water light up and heard a muffled roar, and he stayed under for as long as he could before popping his head up. When he surfaced, thick smoke from the burning forest stung his eyes, but he paid no attention to the pain. He stared in awe at the mushroom cloud rising high in the sky from the field of orange-glowing embers that marked the place where he had last seen the dome. It made the Hindenburg explosion look like a candle flame.

Like otters coming up for air, Ben, Mercer and Diego stuck their heads out of the water and shared his wonder. Each of them had lost a friend or a relative to the schemes of Barker and his Kiolyan henchmen. But there was no smugness or satisfaction at the de- struction they had caused. They knew that justice had been only partially served. The mad geneticist had been hurt but not stopped. By the flickering light of the burning trees, they swam to the cata- maran, the three of them helping Ryan through the water. Minutes later, the boat was moving across the water, leaving the smoldering funeral pyre in its wake.

39

AUSTIN SAT ON the box offish antibiotics, holding the sword blade between his knees, his head bent against the hilt. A stranger would have seen this pose as one of dejection, but Zavala knew better. Austin would act when he was ready.

Zavala was keeping himself occupied with a set of exercises that were part yoga, part Zen and part old-fashioned shadowboxing to loosen him up and focus his mind. He finished demolishing an imag- inary opponent with a left uppercut and a quick right cross, brushed his palms together and said, "I've just knocked out Rocky Marciano, Sugar Ray Robinson and Muhammad Ali in quick succession."

Austin looked up and said, "Save some punches for Barker and his pals. We're starting to descend."

Austin had been gambling that Barker was telling the truth when he said that he intended to feed them to his so-called pets and dump what was left into the Atlantic Ocean. A murderer like Barker would resort to any form of violence and duplicity to achieve his goals, but his inflated vision of himself extended to his godlike pronounce- ments of life and death. If Barker said he would kill them over the Atlantic, he meant it.

Austin had been waiting for the refueling stop, hoping the zep- pelin's crew would be distracted as the great airship came in for a landing. The guards had taken the men's wristwatches, and it was impossible to keep accurate track of the passage of time. After see- ing that they were cut off from sight and sound, Austin had stuck the sword point into the floor and put his ear against the hilt. The sword picked up the engine vibrations like a stylus on a record player. In the last few minutes, the pitch had changed. The engines had slowed. He stood and walked over to the sturdy wood-paneled door. They had put their shoulders against it earlier, but all they had gotten for their trouble were bruises.

Austin knocked softly on the door. He wanted to be sure no guard was standing on the other side. When there was no reply, he gripped the sword hilt in two hands, lifted the blade over his head and brought it down, putting all the considerable strength in his thick arms behind the thrust.

The wood splintered, but the blade didn't go through the door.

Using the point, he pried off a section as big as his hand, then enlarged it. Working furiously, he opened a hole big enough to slip his arm through. The latch had been padlocked. After several more minutes, taking turns hacking at the wood with Zavala, they cut the latch off and pushed the door open. Seeing no guards, they cautiously made their way back to the fish hold. Austin leaned over the gangway.

"Sorry to disappoint you boys," he said to the milky shapes swim- ming around in the tanks, "but we have other di

"They probably don't like Mexican food anyhow," Zavala said.

"Check out the water level."

The surface of the water was at a slant, indicating that the zeppe- lin was inclined at a forward angle. They were on their way down. Austin wanted to get into the control car but suspected it would be heavily defended. They would have to be more creative. Again he looked for an answer in Barker's psychotic personality. In his ram- bling discourse, Barker had revealed more than he should have.

"Hey, Joe," Austin said thoughtfully, "do you remember what our host said about the sluice gates?"

"They keep the more aggressive fish separated. Otherwise, his lit- tle pets would chew themselves to pieces."

"He also said that the systems on this gasbag are hot-wired. I'll bet that when the sluice gates are removed, an alarm goes off. How would you like to create a little chaos?"

Austin pulled up one of the gates. The fish on either side of the gate had come to the top of the tank, thinking that the presence of a human meant they were about to be fed. When the gate was re- moved, they all froze for an instant. Then their fins became a blur. There was a flash of silvery white and snapping jaws. Recalling the fate Barker had pla

A red light on the wall had started to flash when the gate was re- moved. Austin waited by the door while Zavala lounged on the cat- walk. He almost shouted for joy when only one guard showed up. The guard stopped short when he saw Zavala, and raised his rifle. Austin stepped up from behind and said, "Hello." When the guard turned, Austin jammed his elbow into the man's jaw. The guard crumpled to the floor like a sack of blubber. Austin scooped up the rifle and tossed it to Zavala. Then he found a switch that turned the alarm off.

With Zavala rearmed and Austin clenching his sword as if he were about to lay siege to a castle, they left the fish hold and followed a short corridor that led to a set of stairs going down to the control cabin. From their elevated vantage point, they could see through the open door. Men were moving about the cabin or were at the controls, but Barker wasn't among them. Austin signaled for Zavala to back away. The control cabin could wait. It made no sense to tangle with the claws and teeth of the monster called Oceanus when it might be easier to cut off its head.

Austin had a pretty good idea where he might find Barker. They hurried back through the fish hold and along a passageway until they came to the combination work area and museum where Austin had found Durendal. Austin's guess as to Barker's whereabouts was correct. The scientist and his scarfaced henchman were bent over the chart table.

With his animal instincts, Scarface sensed their intrusion and raised his head. He saw the two NUMA men, and his face contorted in an expression of savage fury. Barker heard his henchman snarl and looked up. After his initial surprise, he broke out in a smile. Austin couldn't see the eyes behind the sunglasses, but he could tell that they were fixed on the sword. Without a word, Barker went over and picked up the horn, then looked inside the chest.

"Well, well, Mr. Austin. It seems that you're a thief as well as a stowaway."

He closed the lid and went to replace the horn on top. But first he glanced over at Scarface, who replied with an almost imperceptible nod. Before Austin could move. Barker threw the horn at Zavala's head. Zavala ducked and the horn missed him by a few inches. Tak- ing advantage of the distraction, Umealiq dropped down behind the desk. With the agility of a cat, he gained the protection of the heavy sofa. He popped up like an ugly jack-in-the-box, let off a wild shot from a handgun, then disappeared through a doorway.