Atlantis: Gate (20 page)

chosen ones, the angels of white, also known as the light travelers.’”

Leonidas thought of the Valkyrie—easily an angel of white to the unknowing eye.

The Theran Oracle opened up the scroll a little further, then looked up. “What is interesting, as near as I can make out from this translation, is that the followers of Ahuramazda believe the world goes through a cycle of destruction and re-birth. Thus the world has been destroyed many times.”

As with the rest of it, that made little sense to Leonidas. He noticed that the forward most two rowers had stood up, swords in hand and were peering over the bulwark. The Oracle spotted him noticing. “Yes. They come.”

“Valkyries?” Leonidas drew his sword.

“Yes.” She pointed to her right. “Take that.”

Leonidas noted what appeared to be a pole in the shadows. When he stepped forward to grab it, he paused. It was a weapon, one end of which was a wide spear blade, the other, like the prow of the ship, a seven-headed snake.

“You may use that against the Valkyries. It will cut their skin easily. But I must have it back—”she looked at Cyra. “After you have the golden sphere, you must bring the Naga Staff back to me. It will be needed later.”

Leonidas hefted the spear. It was surprisingly light. He held the blade close to his eyes and was amazed at the workmanship. It was beyond any edge he had ever seen and the metal was something no blacksmith he knew had ever worked with.

“Tell me,” the Oracle said to Cyra, “have you been properly taught the four stages of awareness?”

“Awareness of self. Awareness of others. Awareness of the world. Awareness beyond the world.”

“Very good. Because you will soon face the fourth stage.”

One of the oarsmen at the front of the boat called out in a strange tongue, but there was no mistaking his intent—alarm. Leonidas strode forward. Behind him, Cyra leaned close to the Theran Oracle who handed her a piece of parchment.

Leonidas came up between the two oarsmen. They glanced at him, noted the staff in his hand and then turned their attention back to the fog. Leonidas felt cold, a strange sensation considering it had been warm just moments earlier. He glanced over his shoulder and noted that the other oarsmen had all given up wood for steel. A half dozen were arrayed in front of the Oracle and Cyra. The rest were facing the sides of the ship.

The man to Leonidas’s left hissed something. The king turned in that direction and saw two white figures float out of the fog toward the ship. They paused about twenty feet away, suspended about ten feet above the water, just barely visible.

A scream from behind caused Leonidas to spin about. One of the oarsmen was being held in the air, run through by a tentacle with teeth on the end that had gone in his back and punched out his chest. More of the arms appeared, blindly grasping for targets. The men hacked at them with their swords.

Leonidas turned back toward the Valkyries. The two hadn’t moved. He ignored the sounds of mortal battle behind him and remained focused on the two white creatures, the Naga Staff at the ready. For the first time he noted that they were holding something between them, a black cylinder about five feet long that tapered to a point—which was pointed directly at the boat. Leonidas frowned as the cylinder began to transform at the rear, the black becoming gold, moving slowly forward.

“No!” The strength of the old woman’s yell surprised Leonidas. He turned. The oarsmen were having some success keeping the kraken arms at bay; the deck was littered with severed arms. The Oracle was coming forward, Cyra helping her. The old woman held something glittery in her hands, out of which a bright light was emanating. Leonidas blinked when he realized it was a skull, but one made of a clear material, not bone.

“No, you don’t,” the Oracle hissed as she reached the middle of the boat. She held the skull up in her wrinkled hands.

A flash caused Leonidas to spin to his right. A golden ball was heading directly toward the Oracle. He watched as it struck her, enveloping her in the glow. The Oracle was highlighted in gold for several seconds, standing rigid, her mouth open in a silent scream. Then the gold was pulled into the skull, absorbed completely. Cyra caught the Oracle as she collapsed. Leonidas turned back to the sea but the Valkyries were gone, along with the krakens, the fog dissipating.

***************

Xerxes sat on his throne, looking down at the canal that cut through the isthmus that led to Mount Athos. His fleet was passing through, one by one, a long line. Each side of the ditch was lined by soldiers holding torches, spaced five feet apart.

As if to mock the effort of years of digging, the weather was perfect, not a cloud in the sky, the stars sparkling overhead. The fleet could have gone around the Mount, but Xerxes would not hear of it. The canal had been dug and therefore the ships would use it.

Pandora had started to say something when Xerxes issued the order to his fleet commander, but he had chopped his hand to let her know he didn’t want to hear anything she said. She stood silently to the rear of his chair, her eyes on the back of the seat.

***************

“Is she all right?” Leonidas asked.

Cyra had her hand on the Oracle’s forehead. “She’s alive.”

“What happened?”

“You saw as much as I did,” Cyra said.

Leonidas had noted that the boat—and the oarsman—who had brought them out to the ship were gone, most likely victims of the kraken. “Did she tell you this secret path?”

“Yes.”

Leonidas stood, waiting.

Cyra finally looked up. “So now you are in a rush?”

“It does us no good to remain here.”

One of the oarsmen came over and easily picked up the Oracle. He carried her back to the reed cave and laid her down on a mat, covering her with a blanket. Leonidas pointed at his own chest, and then toward the shore, or at least where he thought the shore was in the darkness. His army was marching for war—there were no fires to delineate where the Spartan camp was.

The warrior nodded and yelled orders in his language. The surviving men bent to the task and the ship began moving. The man who had carried the Oracle went back and retrieved the skull. He placed it under a blanket next to her body.

When the ship was close to shore, the rowers pulled their oars up and the ship glided to a halt, the keel lightly hitting. Leonidas carefully climbed over the side with one hand, the other clutching the Naga staff. His feet entered the water and he paused, then he lowered himself very slowly until he touched bottom. He stepped away and held up his free hand to help Cyra, but she ignored the assistance.

By the time they had walked up on shore, the ship was already pulling away from shore. Leonidas headed for camp, Cyra hurrying after him. When he was challenged by a sentry he called out the proper password then began issuing orders for all to be awakened and the march to be resumed, even though dawn was several hours away.

CHAPTER 13 PRESENT

Every human being on the planet, except for those on board aircraft in flight, felt it. It started almost five thousand kilometers inside the Earth, along the transition zone between the solid crystalline core and the molten inner core. The core turned, adjusting to the power coming down from the Nazca fault and in doing so sent P compression waves rippling through the inner core. The solid lower mantle dampened the effect somewhat, as did the upper mantle, but every person in contact with the surface of the planet felt the ground tremble under their feet.

The readings all over the planet were exactly the same, which told shocked scientists the source and foretold of much worse to come. Those same scientists were brought before heads of states and solutions were demanded.

The replies, to say the least, were unsatisfactory, especially given recent events over the Nazca Plain and Chernobyl.

***************

“Do you still have the portal pinpointed?” Dane asked Ahana. He was bone-tired, having flown from the carrier, across Central America and a large part of the Pacific, back to the Devil’s Sea gate. He’d not felt the planet move, but he’d received the reports while in transit. The grim looks on Ahana’s, Marsten’s and Foreman’s faces confirmed what the numbers had reported.

Ahana nodded. “Yes. The probes we sent through are still transmitting.”

“I’m going in.”

“What are you going to do?” Foreman asked.

The Naga staff was leaning against the conference table and a large metal case holding the crystal skulls was on the floor. “I’m going to find Amelia Earhart first,” Dane said. “Then I’ll figure out the next step.”

“Not much of a plan,” Foreman complained.

“When you have a better one, let me know,” Dane said. He turned to Doctor Marsten, who had yet to speak. “Is Rachel ready?”

“Yes.”

“Have you translated any more of the dolphin cries that the
Connecticut
picked up?”

“As near as I can tell, it’s the same message, repeated over and over again. That’s all Rachel’s given back to me.”

Dane had been thinking about that. “What kind of map are they referring to?” he asked the room.

“It must be a map that shows the connections of the various portals,” Ahana said.

“But even if we get such a map,” Dane said, “how will that help us change the path of the power?”

There was no answer to that question, nor had Dane really expected one. He stood and picked up the Naga staff. “Give me a hand with that,” he asked Foreman, indicating the case with the skulls.

They walked onto the deck of the FLIP. A Deepflight submersible was waiting.

“You sure you want to go alone?” Foreman asked.

“I’m not going alone,” Dane said. He indicated a gray dorsal fin cutting through the water next to the submersible. He climbed down, onto the deck of the craft and stored the staff and skulls inside.

Deepflight was a radical departure from previous submersibles. It was designed more like an airplane than a submarine. It was forty feet long with a wingspan of fifteen feet. The compartment Dane would ride in was a titanium sphere in the very center. Wings with controllable flaps extended out from each side giving the craft excellent maneuverability. Forward of the sphere was a specially designed ‘beak’ that reduced drag when the submersible was moving forward. In the rear were two vertical fins right behind the dual propeller system that complemented the wings for three dimensional flight.

The crew sphere was solid with just two holes in it-- one the hatch that screwed out and a second, smaller one that accessed control and command cables. To ‘see’ outside, Dane would use various cameras and radar. Powerful spotlights were bolted all around the craft. Dane paused in the hatch when Ahana spoke.

“There’s something interesting one of the navy people found when they ran a maintenance check on the submersible. It appears as if it passed through both high temperature and a strong radioactive field.”

Dane nodded. “We know some of the portals are hot.” It was one of the confusing aspects of the entire gate-portal system. Some were radioactive and had high temperatures, while others had neither characteristic.

“It had to have happened on the last trip in,” Ahana said.

“And?” Dane was anxious to be going.

“Then how did she get through unscathed?” Ahana was pointing at Rachel.

That gave Dane pause, but it was just one of many things he didn’t understand and didn’t particularly have time to ponder. “I don’t know. Let’s just be grateful that she does.”

He grabbed the hatch. “I will see you when I will see you.” He ducked down into the sphere and swung the hatch close, then began screwing it shut.

THE SPACE BETWEEN

Earhart almost collapsed from exhaustion as she put down the man she had carried from the Valkyrie cave. Asper, a US Navy assistant surgeon who had been aboard the USS
Cyclops
when it ran into the Bermuda Triangle gate in 1918, knelt next to the man.

“How is he?” Earhart asked.

“Seems all right,” Asper said as he examined him. “Shock mostly.”

Earhart had seen it before. New arrivals to the nexus were often so stunned by their abduction that it took a day or two for them to regain their bearings. She noted the man’s clothing.

“US Navy?”

Asper nodded. “Looks like. But not from my time.” He touched the silver eagle on the man’s collar. “A captain.”

Earhart noted something on the man’s chest—an insignia shaped like a dolphin. “What’s that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Curious,” Earhart remembered the dolphin that had accompanied Dane. “I think—” she

paused and turned her head toward the inner sea. “He’s here.” She smiled. “And so is she.” “What?” Asper asked. “Who’s here?” She turned to Taki. “Come.”

***************

The touch of the inner sea’s water on his skin sickened Dane. Everything was slightly wrong with the elements inside the space-between. The air smelled funny, the water felt and tasted strange, and the black soil was unlike anything Dane had ever seen on Earth.

The case containing the skulls was waterproof and he was able to half lay on it as he kicked for shore, Rachel at his side, the Naga Staff in his hand. He’d left Deepflight anchored just outside of the portal he’d come through.

Rachel cut across in front of him, rolling on her side, rubbing against his legs and Dane stopped kicking as a vision flashed into his brain: rows of men in armor, spears leveled, advancing across a plain. Then it was gone.

Dane wasn’t surprised to look up and see Amelia Earhart standing on the shoreline, her samurai guards around her, waiting for him. His feet touched bottom and he walked up to her, carrying staff and case.

“I knew you would come back,” Earhart said. “And we need that,” she added, pointing at

the Naga staff. “For what?” Dane asked, not surprised that she needed it. “To capture some Valkyries with.” “And what do we do with them?” “Take their armor suits.” “And then?” Earhart put her hands on her hips. “I thought you would tell me that.” Dane slowly nodded. “Let’s get the Valkyries first. One step at a time.” She paused. “There’s something else—actually a couple of things.” “Yes?” “My navigator arrived here not long ago.”