Deep Fathom

“We should hurry. I don’t like how quiet—”

The explosion caught them by surprise. The two women were thrown to their knees as the tu

Karen twisted around, keeping her bag above the water. She fumbled for her pistol. Miyuki pointed her light back down the tu

“Dynamite,” Karen said. “They must have lost their patience with a pickax.”

As the ringing faded, a low groan filled the tu

“It’s breaking apart!” Miyuki yelled in terror.

Up and down the passage, more and more spouts opened. Falling rocks splashed.

“Run!” Karen shouted. Already the water rose from knees to thighs.

Karen led the way down the next tu

Karen had no answer. First fire — now water. If not for her numbing fear, she would have appreciated the irony. But not now. Ahead, the dark passage stretched beyond the reach of their lights…quickly filling with frigid seawater.

8

Endgame

In his usual red trunks and white cotton robe, Jack relaxed in a lounge chair on the bow deck of his ship. His hair was still wet from the long shower, but the late afternoon remained warm. It felt good to soak in the last rays of the setting sun. His dog, Elvis, lay sprawled beside the lounge.

Across the deck, the sleek contours of the Nautilus 2000 reflected the light off its titanium surface. Robert worked under the dry-docked submersible, inspecting every square inch, while Lisa sat inside, doing the same. So far the sub seemed to have withstood the extreme pressures without a problem. The only concern: the radio glitch. Lisa had been troubleshooting the computer and com systems, trying to trace the gremlin in the works, but so far without success.

“How’s your jaw?”

Jack turned his attention back to his companion. Admiral Mark Houston relaxed on a neighboring lounge. He puffed on a thick cigar, one of Jack’s prized stock. With his other hand, the admiral scratched Elvis behind an ear, earning a slow thump of a tail.

“I’ve had worse.” Jack rubbed his jaw. It still ached dully.

Houston held out his cigar, inspecting it with pleasure. “Cuban tobacco…I’m breaking so many laws…”

“But it’s worth it, isn’t it?”

He replaced the cigar, inhaling deeply. “Oh, yeah.” His eyes narrowed with appreciation as he exhaled.

Except for the admiral and his two personal aides, Jack had the Deep Fathom back to himself, at least for now. With the two black boxes wrapped and under armed guard, David Spangler and the other government investigators had left immediately for the USS Gibraltar. The admiral had remained behind. He would be alerted as soon as any word came through on the flight data and cockpit recorders. Until then, everyone was holding their breath.

“So I take it,” Houston said, “that your reunion with Commander Spangler didn’t resolve anything.”

“What did you expect?” Jack slumped in his lounge chair. First the Gibraltar, then Admiral Houston, now David Spangler. All together again. He had run from his past for over a decade, and ended up right where he started. He sighed. “Nothing changes. Even before the shuttle accident, David hated me. He resented that I took his place on the shuttle.”

“It wasn’t your decision. It was NASA’s jurisdiction.”

“Yeah, tell that to Spangler. We had a major blowout the night before the launch. I was almost scrubbed.”

“I remember. He found out you were dating his sister during the year you spent at NASA training.” Houston pointed his cigar at Jack’s swollen lip. “And it seems that old grudge is still strong.”

Jack shook his head. “He lost his sister. Who can blame him?”

“You should. We’ve lost other shuttles. Everyone knows the risks.” The admiral sucked on his cigar. “Besides, there’s something I just don’t like about our Mr. Spangler. I never did. There’s always been a lot of hatred buried beneath that cold surface. I’m not surprised he’s fallen into the employ of Nicolas Ruzickov at the CIA. Those two sharks deserve each other.”

Jack was surprised at the admiral’s words. His face showed it.

Houston’s voice grew stern. “Just watch yourself around him, Jack.” He pointed his cigar at Jack’s swollen eye. “Don’t allow your guilt to weaken your guard. Not around him.”

Jack remembered the keen hatred in David’s eyes: This isn’t over, Kirkland. Perhaps he had better take his former commander’s advice and steer clear of the man, he thought. Jack closed his eyes and leaned back. “If only I had spotted the glitch a few seconds earlier…or held her hand tighter.”

“Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, Jack. But, you know what, sometimes shit happens. You can’t see every bullet aimed at your head. Life just isn’t that fair.”

“When did you become such a philosopher?”

Houston tapped his cigar. “Age grants you a certain wisdom.”

From across the deck Lisa called to him, perched at the sub’s hatch. “Jack, come see this.”

Groaning, Jack pushed himself up. “What?”

Lisa just waved to him.

“All right. Hang on.” He got off his lounger, and the admiral sat up straighter, preparing to follow. “Relax,” Jack said. “I’ll be right back.”

Elvis rolled to his chest, starting to push to his legs.

Jack held out a hand, stopping the dog. “You, too. Stay.” The German shepherd sank back to the deck with a clearly irritated huff.

Houston patted Elvis’s side. “We old men will keep each other company.”

Jack rolled his eyes, then crossed the deck. He climbed down the stepladder to join Lisa. She lowered herself into the sub’s seat, and Jack leaned over her. “What’s up?”

“Look at the Nautilus’s internal clock.” She pointed to the clock’s red digital numbers. The seconds scrolled normally. “Now look at my wristwatch.”

Jack studied the Swatch on her wrist, then looked back at the digital clock. It was off by a little over five minutes. “So it’s slow by a few minutes.”

“Before the dive, I synchronized the clock myself when I calibrated the Bio-Sensor program. It was exact to the hundredth of a second.”

“I still don’t understand the significance.”

“I compared the time gap with the Bio-Sensor log. The difference in clocks exactly matches the length of time you were off-line.”

Jack crinkled his brow. “So the glitch must have affected the clock, too. Must be a short in one of the batteries.”

“No, the batteries checked out fine,” she mumbled, and looked up at him. “When you were off-line, did you see the clock stop?”

Jack shook his head, frown lines creasing the corners of his lips. “No. In fact, I remember checking. The clock was ru

Lisa wiggled up off the seat. “It doesn’t make any sense. The diagnostics of the systems are perfect. Jack, is there anything you’re not telling me?”

He glanced over his shoulder. The admiral was lost in his appreciation of his cigar. Jack lowered his voice. During the postdive briefing, Jack had glossed over the details of the strange crystal pillar. No one seemed interested anyway. “That pillar I discovered down there…”

“Yeah. The one on the disk you gave Charlie.”

Jack bit his lip. He didn’t want to sound crazy. He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. The pillar was giving off some strange vibrations or harmonics. It screwed with my compass. I could even feel it on my skin, an itchy tingle like ants crawling all over.”