Oracle (27 page)

“
There may be a mundane explanation for what happened to those men, but then again, maybe not. In any case, it’s one of the incidents that can’t be easily dismissed, just like Flight 19, which incidentally would have passed very close to Great Isaac on the first leg of their mission, before they knew they were in trouble. That gives us two points of…well, if you’ll pardon the pun, triangulation. We’ll start our search there, at Great Isaac Cay.

“
Which brings me at last to this,” He hit another button and the picture changed to a screen capture from a webpage. One of the entries was highlighted. “
La Nuestra Senõra De La Misericordia
was a treasure galleon that sank in 1594. The official record has it going down in the Atlantic off the coast of Portugal, but it’s never been found, and I think I may know why.

“
These treasure ships didn’t sail alone; they were usually part of a large fleet, with the slow moving galleons protected by smaller, faster escort ships. It’s rare, though not unheard of, for an entire treasure fleet to be sunk—”

“
The Plate Fleet of 1715,” intoned Nichols. “Twelve ships were lost in a hurricane. I looked for it myself a time or two.”

“
Exactly. Although in that case as in most others, there were surviving ships that carried the news back to Spain. That’s how we know where to look. But the records going back to 1594 are spotty at best. The details could have gotten confused, but a more likely explanation is that the Spanish reported the location incorrectly in the hopes that they might one day be able to return and salvage it themselves. I think that’s what happened to the
Misericordia
. She actually went down near Bimini, and I think she took Alvaro and the Moon stone with her. Along with a fortune in Spanish gold.”

“
Now you’re speaking my language,” said Nichols.

“
You’re welcome to keep whatever gold we find,” Ophelia assured him. “Or rather, I should say, you’re welcome to fight it out with the Spanish government.”

Nichols shrugged.
“Goes with the territory. Honestly, I’m too old to care about being rich. I’d rather be famous at this point.”

Well th
at explains the television show
.

“
We probably won’t find a wreck per se,” said Professor. “Four hundred years of exposure to salt water will have destroyed the wood and ferrous metals, and whatever’s left is probably buried under a couple tons of sediment. But if there really is some kind of space-time distortion going on, Paul’s clocks should detect it. From there, it’s just a matter of following our noses. The good news is that the wreck site will almost certainly lie on the continental shelf, max depth three hundred feet. Still a bit deep for recreational diving, but a hell of a lot better than twelve hundred.”

“
You folks seem to know what you’re doing,” Nichols said, “Bimini is about ten hours out, figure another couple to Great Isaacs. We can start running the search as soon as cook puts out the first pot of coffee.”

He gave Ophelia a long scrutinizing stare.
“You know, I’ve been sailing these waters most of my life. I’ve seen some strange things, but nothing to make me believe that there’s anything to these stories about the Bermuda Triangle. It doesn’t bother me that you’re going looking for—how’d Professor there put it?—spooky stuff. Honestly, I wish the cameras were rolling. Spooky stuff gets great ratings. I just want to know that this thing you’re looking for won’t get us all killed or give us cancer or something like that.”

Ophelia smiled.
“I won’t make promises I can’t keep, Mr. Nichols. If you wanted safe, you should have chosen a different career.”

Barry gave them
a brief tour of the ship’s working areas. Jade didn’t need to hear his explanation of what the “mailbox blowers” did. The big aluminum elbow pipes at the stern could be lowered into place over the ship’s screws, directing the engine thrust straight down to the sea floor, creating an artificial current to sweep tons of sediment away and hopefully uncover buried riches. The blowers were a standard tool of professional treasure hunters, though Jade had never seen boxes as big as the pair on the
Quest Explorer.

Much of the deck served as a platform for the boom crane which could be used to deploy the submersible
Quest Explorer-Deep
, nicknamed “QED,” or retrieve heavy artifacts from the sea floor, like cannon or if they were really lucky, great big chests full of gold ingots.

The QED was parked on the fore
deck, covered with heavy tarpaulins and strapped down. It looked smaller than Jade expected and she was a bit dubious about Barry’s claim that it could comfortably seat three people, “and all their cameras and sound equipment.”

The atomic clock Dorion had requested had been air freighted to Nassau ahead of their arrival, loaded aboard and stowed near the submersible. The long plastic shipping container
looked ominously like a casket, “You’re welcome to inspect it now,” Barry told him, “but it’s going to be dark soon. Might be easier to wait until morning when you’ll have daylight.”

Dorion accepted this without protest and they continued the tour with a cursory glance at the engine room, finishing at their staterooms
, which were nicer than some hotels Jade had slept in, but not on par with the salon. Jade’s luggage—which consisted only of a single carry-on size suitcase containing clothes and sundry items she had had picked up before leaving Greece—was waiting on the bed. There was nothing particularly essential in the case. She patted the pocket where she was keeping the Shew Stone—after Delphi, she had not let it out of her sight—then leaving everything where it was, headed back to the salon for dinner.

She found Professor standing on the deck, staring out across the water.
“Hey sailor,” she called out, and then immediately wondered why she had.

He turned to her with an easy smile.
“Careful. People will talk.”

She had to fight the urge to
hit back with a barbed comment, maybe something about how people might talk about the time he had spent in Delphi with Ophelia. “Actually, I wanted to thank you for not shooting me down earlier.”

“
What do you mean?”

“
Well, you know, you’re always Mr. Voice of Reason. You’re the last person I would expect to become a believer.”

He laughed.
“‘Mr. Voice of Reason’? Jade, we’re scientists. It’s not about what we believe; it’s about going where the evidence leads. We already know there’s some weird science at work in the world. ‘There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy’ as the Bard would say. So, when I went down the list of so-called Bermuda Triangle phenomena, I had to consider space-time distortions as a possible factor.”

“
Yeah, well, thanks all the same.”

“
Sure thing. Just remember, we’re scientists. Belief is for people who don’t have enough facts to back up their position. We go where the—” He trailed off, his eyes leaving her face and roving to the horizon.

“
What?”

“
Great Isaac Key is west-northwest of Nassau. The sun should be just off the port bow.”

Jade looked toward the orange orb of the setting sun. It was almost perfectly centered on the western horizon, parallel to the course of the ship.
“We’re heading due north.”

Professor turned away without confirming the statement and headed for the stairs that led to the ship
’s bridge, with Jade right behind him.

The control room, with its horseshoe-shaped bank of computer screens and other electronic equipment, looked more like something from a science-fiction movie, but there was only one bored crewman present. He sat in one of the fixed swivel chairs in front of the workstation, but was turned away, using the console as an armrest while he read a paperback novel. The crewman raised his eyes, but otherwise made no move to acknowledge their presence.

“What’s our course?” Professor asked.

With a sigh, the man put down his book—Jade recognized the cover art. It was the latest book in
the
Easter Egg
series by Sue Denim—and swung around to glance at the screen of the nearest computer. “We’re here,” he said, pointing to a red dot. “And this dotted yellow line is our track.”

The indicated line showed the ship moving in the northwesterly direction, the direction they should be going.

“What’s our compass heading?”

“
Compass?”

“
You do know what a compass is.” Jade could hear the irritation in Professor’s voice.

“
Sure, dude.” He peered at the screen again. “Three-oh-two degrees.”

“
What does your compass say?” growled Professor through clenched teeth.

“
The GPS is more precise than—”

Professor pointed out the side window at the setting sun.
“The sun sets in the west. Did they teach you that in your GPS class? The sun says that were traveling north. Unless the sky is lying, there’s something wrong with your GPS, so tell me what your compass says.”

The chastened crewman quickly rose and moved to the center of the console. He shifted a stack of magazines to reveal an ancient looking binnacle. Even from across the room, Jade could see that the compass globe beneath the glass was spinning wildly.

The crewman stared at it in disbelief, and in a very small voice, said, “I think I’d better get the skipper.”

The Bahamas

Lee arrived on
the bridge reeking of mouthwash and after-shave, which Jade assumed was olfactory camouflage to mask a different kind of stink.

“
Wonderful,” she muttered. “On top of everything else, we’ve got a drunk for a captain.”

The ship
’s master went immediately to the GPS console and stared at it for several seconds. “This shows that we’re on course,” he insisted.

“
Yes, sir,” explained the crewman. “But dead reckoning shows us heading north. The compass isn’t working and neither is the satphone.”

“
Uh,” Lee glanced at Professor and Jade and seemed to realize he was in the spotlight. He straightened a little and when she spoke again, there was a little more certitude in his voice. “All stop. Until we can figure out where we are, there’s no sense in continuing in the wrong direction. It’s time for some good old fashioned seamanship.”

The crewman pushed a button on the console and Jade felt a subtle change in the vibrations rising from the deck.

Lee turned to face them. “I’ll have to ask you to leave so we can get some work done here. I believe dinner is being served in the salon, so why don’t you go grab a bite to eat. I assure you, we’ll be back on course within the hour.”

Jade started to bristle at the dismissal
, but Professor took her arm and guided her from the room. When they were outside, she turned on him. “Are you going to trust that lush to get us back on course?”

“
Not completely, but navigating open water isn’t…well, quantum physics. As long as he knows better than to trust the GPS, we should get where we’re going.”

“
Speaking of the GPS, how can it be wrong? And the compass? Why was it spinning like that?”

“
Did you forget where we are?”

She gave a short humorless laugh.
“Is that your scientific opinion?”

“
I don’t know. We could already be experiencing space-time distortions.” He paused. “Or there could be a more mundane explanation.”

“
Like what?”

“
Sabotage.”

The suggestion stunned Jade into silence until they reached the salon where Dorion and Ophelia were seated at a table. Dorion rose when they entered, but it was Ophelia that spoke first.
“We’ve stopped.”

“
I know,” Professor replied. “There’s a problem with the GPS navigation. They’re working on it now.” He turned to Dorion. “Paul, is there any reason why a dark matter field might disrupt satellite communications?”

The physicist
’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “Digital communications require precise time synchronization. I suppose if the clocks were out of sync, it could cause problems.”

“
What about a magnetic compass?” asked Jade.

“
It shouldn’t be affected. Dark matter has no electrical charge. If WIMPs could disrupt a magnetic field, we would be able to detect them.”

“
Are you saying the compass has failed too?” asked Ophelia.

“
Spinning like a top,” Jade said. She turned to Professor. “Is that why you suspect sabotage?”

Ophelia gasped.
“Sabotage?”

“
It’s a possibility we have to consider. In fact, it’s a simpler explanation than dark matter. The GPS software could have been corrupted by a computer virus. It’s even easier to beat a magnetic compass.” Professor paused a moment before continuing. “I’m not saying that’s what happened, but we need to be on our guard. The Norfolk Group could have someone aboard this ship.”

“
There’s a way to know for sure,” Dorion said. “Or at least to determine if we are being influenced by a dark matter field.”

“
You mean the clock? Doesn’t it need to be synchronized? If this effect is messing with satellite communications that may be a problem.”

Dorion pondered this.
“My system would function independently of the ship’s communication network. If I am also unable to connect, that would tend to rule out sabotage.”

Jade wasn
’t sure which possibility was a greater source of anxiety. They were at least seventy miles from Great Isaac Cay, Professor’s ground zero for the space-time distortions. If they were feeling the effects this far out, what would happen as they got closer? A saboteur at least was something they could deal with.

As they headed out of the salon, Barry appeared.
“I have some good news. Mr. Lee has plotted our position. We are a few degrees off course, but we should still arrive at our destination before dawn.”

“
What about the GPS?” asked Ophelia.

“
Mr. Nichols is working on it. He doubles as our Chief Engineer and Electronics Officer. I told you, we all wear a lot of hats.” He glanced past them at the untouched dinner plates on the table. “Where’s everyone off to?”

“
We are going to use our equipment to see if we can detect anything unusual.”

“
I thought you might want to try that. Watch your step. Ah, Ms. Doerner, if your friends can spare you, there’s something I wanted to go over with you.”

A perturbed frown flickered over Ophelia
’s face, and Barry hastily added, “It will only take a minute.”

“
Go ahead,” Dorion said. “It will take us a few minutes to unpack the gear.”

As Ophelia followed Nichols back into the salon, Jade and the others headed forward to where Paul
’s equipment was stored. Jade noted that, in addition to the plastic seals on the latches, the plastic casket was also adorned with a sticker sporting a yellow and black trefoil.

“
Uh, is this thing radioactive?”

“Why do you think it’s called an
atomic
clock?” Professor said in an ominous voice.

Dorion laughed.
“Do not worry. There is a very small amount of cesium—which is why it must have a warning—but it is stable and shielded. You were exposed to considerably more radiation during the flight from Greece than this clock produces.”

“
Is it possible the Great and Powerful Professor didn’t know that?” Jade elbowed him in the ribs.

“
Of course I knew it. The atomic clock works by using a laser to antagonize cesium atoms so that they give of energy at a very specific frequency—nine point one nine two—”

“
Enough,” Jade said. “Show off.”

As Dorion broke the seals, Professor got in a final comment.
“There’s no radioactivity because the cesium doesn’t decay to release neutron radiation. The excited atoms act just like the spring in an old clock, or the quartz crystal in your…say, didn’t you have a watch?”

Jade shook her head and turned away, trying to avoid that particular discussion. As she did, something—a faint movement, a premonition—made her look past the container. The
submersible was moving. “Look out.”

She leaped toward the two men, tackling them to the deck as the still-covered submersible swung toward them like a giant fist.

There was a crunch and a scraping sound as the QED collided with the shipping container, which in turn slammed into Jade. She tried to scrambled out of the way, saw Dorion and Professor attempting to do the same, but the relentless combination of submersible and casket bulldozed all three of them toward the deck rail.

In an instant that probably could only have been measured by Dorion
’s clock, Jade saw that she was about to be crushed against the heavy tubular steel of the rail.

“
This way,” shouted Professor. From the corner of her eye, Jade saw him insinuate himself in the gap between the horizontal rails. She thought he was jumping overboard, but as soon as he was clear of the rail, he gripped the edge of the deck and reached up to drag the dazed Dorion through as well.

Jade didn
’t think she could hang on, but falling overboard and hitting the water some forty feet below had to be better than getting crushed. As she started to move forward however, she felt the container strike her again, driving her into the rail, pinning her…squeezing her.

Frantic, she desperately tried to squirm free, felt the hard rough plastic bowing just a little, but not nearly enough, and then, all of a sudden, she was free, squirted out like a bean from a husk, to land atop the container.

The reprieve was short-lived.

There was an ominous grinding sound as the container was relentlessly smashed between the rail and the QED. Jade launched herself down the length of the container, leaping clear just as the molded plastic collapsed like a Styrofoam cup under someone
’s shoe. The submersible lurched and closed the gap in an instant, gonging against the rail, and then, with a tortured groan, the rail began to bend under the unyielding assault.

Jade lay on the deck, just a few inches from the QED, which continued to press against the rail like a tarp-covered battle tank. There was a sharp splitting noise, like the report of a pistol, and the rail along a considerable portion of the deck it was attached to, broke loose and fell away, allowing the little submarine which hung from a cable at the end of the boom crane, to swing out over the water like a pendulum.

She rolled to the edge of the deck and peered over, searching the water below for some sign that Professor and Dorion were still alive. She found them a moment later, not in the water, but still clinging desperately to the side of the ship. Professor hung by one hand, his other grasped Dorion’s arm. His face showed the intense exertion of suspending their combined weight. He couldn’t possibly hold on much longer. It was a wonder his grip hadn’t already failed.

With the QED swinging back and forth like something from an Edgar Allen Poe story, she did not dare try to assist them directly, and she wasn
’t sure that she would be able to pull the two men back from the precipice. In the instant she contemplated their fate, it occurred to her that this could not be an accident. Someone had to be operating the crane, intentionally using both the crane and the deep sea vessel together like a wrecking ball, for one reason only: to kill the three of them.

Wonder who that could be?

Then another thought hit her. The crane!

She spun around and sprinted for the crane
’s control station amidships. She was mentally preparing herself for battle with the would-be killer, but there was no one there; the saboteur, whomever he was, had already gone.

The unfamiliar lever controls were labeled and she quickly picked out one that seemed to regulate vertical lift. She pushed up and felt the entire ship shudder as the boom arm rose, lifting the still swinging submersible several feet above the deck.

She acutely felt the clock ticking down for Professor and Dorion. What if she was already too late?

She worked another lever and saw the crane arm swivel out over the water, and as the submersible started to swing again, she hit the winch control,
unspooling the cable to lower the small underwater craft several yards.

The ship shuddered again and Jade heard a sickening crunch as the submersible dangling at the end of the cable swung back and slammed into the hull. Jade had
a fleeting mental image—she hoped it wasn’t a literal vision—of Professor and Dorion smeared against the side of the ship. She raced back to the place where the disaster had begun, and sagged in relief when she found both men perched atop the mini-sub, clinging desperately to the cable.

It took less than a minute for a swarm of red-shirted crewmen to rush up from below decks, get the two men safely aboard, and begin assessing the damage. Ophelia and Barry hurried out as well, and a few seconds later, Lee and Nichols joined the throng.

Dorion appeared to be in shock and Ophelia moved to comfort him. Professor however was fully in control of his faculties and completely livid. He stalked toward Lee.

“
There’s a killer on this ship,” he said in a low dangerous voice.

“
Now just a second,” Nichols began, but Professor cut him off.

“
We need to account for every person on board and then search the ship. If we don’t find anyone, then the killer is someone in your crew.”

Lee nodded, but kept glancing uncertainly at Nichols as if seeking his approval.

“Captain,” Professor said sharply. “You’re going to need to select a security detail for the search. Do you have weapons aboard?”

“
Ah, weapons? Yes. We have a small arms locker.”

Nichols spoke up.
“Dr. Chapman, I assure you, my crew is above suspicion.”

“
Then our search will turn up the real saboteur. Make this happen, Mr. Nichols.”

The VMI founder reluctantly nodded his assent and Lee moved off to organize the security detail. Professor wasn
’t finished however. “What’s the situation with the GPS?”