Deep Fathom

After exchanging pleasantries and a promise to get together, Jack hurriedly explained how he wanted to check into a friend’s whereabouts — Lieutenant Ken Rolfe. After a couple hours, the admiral had called back, suspicious. “Jack, do you know something you’re not telling me? A report came in an hour ago from Turkey. It says your friend went missing during a special ops mission at the Iraq border — along with another old friend of yours.”

“An old friend?”

“David Spangler.”

Jack had to cover his surprise and talk his way off the phone. Once free, he sat quietly for several moments. So David had stayed dead, probably still in the belly of the giant squid. The great beast must have nested close to the pillar. Jack felt a twinge of regret. Alive and free, he allowed himself the luxury of pity for the man. David had been warped by his upbringing, his father’s unspoken abuses. So where did the true blame lie? Jack knew such answers were beyond him.

Later, as the afternoon had worn on, Lisa suggested the special di

Now, with the sun sinking into the western ocean, Jack settled to the table and the celebration. From across the way, Kendall McMillan caught his eye. The accountant wore shorts and a loose pullover, extremely casual for the man.

“Captain,” Kendall said, “I have a request to make.”

“What is it?”

He cleared his throat and spoke firmly. “I’d like to officially join your crew.”

This news surprised him. Kendall had always maintained an officious distance from the others. Jack frowned. “I don’t know if we have the need for a full-time accountant.”

Kendall glanced to his plate and mumbled, “You will when you’re all millionaires.”

“What are you talking about?”

He looked around the table, then spoke loudly. “I’m talking about the Kochi Maru. If Mr. Mollier is correct in his assessment that there were no quakes this time around, there is a good chance the previous volcanic eruption that swallowed the treasure ship may not have occurred. The ship may still be down there.”

Jack’s brows rose and his eyes widened. He remembered the ship’s hold full of gold bricks. At least a hundred tons. Jack stood and reached across the table. He took the accountant’s hand and pumped it vigorously. “Welcome to the crew of the Deep Fathom, Mr. McMillan. For that timely observation, you just earned yourself a tenth of the haul.”

Kendall gri

Jack lifted a glass of champagne. “We’ll share equally. Everyone. That includes our newest shipmates: Karen, Miyuki, and Mwahu.”

Kendall looked down the table. “But you said a tenth. There are only nine of us here?”

Jack patted the tabletop. The old German shepherd, squatting at his feet, jumped up, his paws on the table. He ruffled the dog’s thick mane. “Anyone object to Elvis getting his fair share? After all, he did save all your asses from being blown to Kingdom come.”

Kendall was the first on his feet, raising his glass. “To Elvis!”

The others followed suit. The old dog barked loudly.

Jack sat back down, smiling.

Slowly, as di

He pushed to his feet, feeling slightly tipsy from the champagne. He crossed to the rail and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. As he did, he saw she held the broken shards of the crystal star in her palms.

She spoke, her voice melancholy. “With the revelations of these past days, my research is over. My great-grandfather was right. There was a lost continent. I now know the ancients truly existed.” She looked up at him sadly. “But if we are to keep the secret of the dark matter hidden, then none must ever know the truth. Look how close we came to destroying ourselves with the mere power of the atom. Can you imagine what we’d do with the power of an entire planet?”

Leaning over, she tumbled the bright crystal shards into the dark sea. “Like the ancients themselves, we’re not ready for such power.”

Jack took her palms, cradling them in his own. “Don’t worry. There are other mysteries yet to be discovered.” Leaning down, he stared deeply into her eyes, his lips brushing hers, his voice low. “You just need to know where to look.”

Epilogue

Hours after the eclipse, Doreen McCloud left her office building. She stared down Market Street. The sun was a mere glow on the western horizon. As she stared skyward, she felt a surge of inexplicable joy. She didn’t understand this sudden emotion. She had lost a critical client today, and the senior partners had scheduled an early morning meeting with her to discuss the loss. Where normally such a thought would fill her with dread, this evening all she felt was a simple appreciation of the cool San Francisco breeze.

As she walked toward the BART station, she noticed others glancing skyward, smiles on their faces, laughter.

Stopping atop the stairs to the station, Doreen glanced to the setting sun.

What a strangely wonderful day.

Jimmy Pomautuk climbed down the path, his malamute Nanook at his side. The noisy English trio clambered ahead of him, chattering nonstop, full of grins and jokes. Though the group had complained all the way up here, the eclipse had not failed to impress them. In fact, the sight had even touched his cynical soul: the dark sun, the silver ocean, the brilliant borealis.

He wished he could have shared it with his son, one generation passing a special heritage to another.

Glancing back, Jimmy watched the sun set beyond Glacial Point. For some reason, today he felt closer to his grandfather, his ancestors, even the old gods of his people.

Sighing, Jimmy patted Nanook.

“It’s been a good day, boy.”

In the garden atrium of the governor’s mansion, Jeffrey Hessmire stood beside the Secretary of State. Together they watched President Bishop cross the courtyard. The festivities associated with the eclipse were dying away. People were returning to their normal activities.

President Bishop stepped in front of the Chairman of the People’s Republic. He bowed slightly, a show of respect, and held out his hand.

After a short pause, the Chairman lifted an arm and gripped the President’s hand. Off to the side there was a flourish of camera flashes as the press documented the momentous occasion.

“I know there is still much to settle between our countries,” the President said, “but together we’ll find a way to peace.”

The Chairman bowed his head in agreement.

At Jeffrey’s side, Secretary Elliot snorted. “This is just go

Watching the ceremony, Jeffrey could not wipe the smile from his face.

No doubt about it…it was a day to remember.

Acknowledgments

No man is an island, and certainly no writer. There are so many good people and friends who have helped hone this novel. First and foremost, I wish to express my appreciation to Lyssa Keusch, my editor, and to Russ Galen, my agent.

For technical assistance, several individuals have been invaluable in the research behind the novel’s science and history: Stephen R. Fischer, Ph.D., for his background in Polynesian languages; Dr. Charles Plummer of CSUS, for his knowledge of geological sciences; Vera Rubin, for her articles on astronomy; both Dr. Phil Nuytten of Nuytco Research Ltd. and the folks at Zegrahm Deep Sea Voyages, for the details of submersible dynamics; Laurel Moore, librarian of the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution, for her assistance in deep-sea biology; and David Childress, for his book Ancient Micronesia, an invaluable resource. Finally, a marked recognition must be made to two other authors whose books inspired this story: Colonel James Churchward, Books of the Golden Age, and Charles Berlitz, The Dragon’s Triangle.