For a moment Connor was silent. In his urgency he hadn’t even thought of that. “What about oil tankers?” he asked. “Or ice breakers? Would we reach one if we sent the signal into the Arctic Circle?”
“Only in the spring. Icebergs make the area too dangerous for shipping this time of year.”
A grimace contorted Connor’s face. Without another word he bent the wire in half, leaving two ten-foot strands. He attached the center of the V to the unwired loop stick and the capacitor. Thirty seconds later he had stretched out the two bare lines of wire to attach them to the bookcase beside the opposite side of the chamber. The antenna was aimed over the mountains and Ice Station.
“All right,” he said quickly. “Go downstairs and crank up the generator to full blast.”
“All the way to 220 volts?’‘
“Yeah. Turn it up all the way.”
With a curt nod Thor vanished and Connor twisted the dial to the Maritime Emergency Frequency, a channel reserved by international law for sea disasters. Then he lifted the ground wire, holding it by a piece of rubber insulation that he had saved from the antenna. Ail dials on the radio maxed out, and Connor heard the generator roaring even louder on the lower level. Instantly he began sending the SOS signal, three quick beeps and three long followed by three quick. He continued it for thirty seconds before pausing.
Thor stood in the doorway.
Connor listened intently, motionless. The scent of overheating circuits filled the room and he sent the signal out again, quicker this time, hitting the ground wire as clearly as he could manage before listening to the receiver. With a loud humming, a thin spiral of smoke drifted up from the capacitor. Connor heard a crackling and then there was a faint response of Morse code, almost undetectable beneath the jamming static.
“We got ‘em!” Connor yelled.
“Give them our location!” Thor said, staggering a step into the room.
Quickly Connor hit the ground wire against the steel and then an explosion shattered the shortwave, transistors blowing shards of glass into the air with a white-green blast of electric flame. Connor had instantly let go of the wire to throw his forearm across his face, and Thor yelled, leaping to the side to snatch the plug from the outlet.
Stunned silence; the harsh scent of burned circuits blackening the air. Waves crashed along the shore as Thor gazed down on the shortwave. He said nothing as Connor lowered his forearm, both of them watching the still glowing circuits of the capacitor fading quickly from orange to gray, to black. Still staring at the radio, Connor stood up. He was motionless for a second before he caught a deep breath.
“Well... that’s it.”
Thor grimaced. “We can bring Beth and Jordan to the tower. I will protect them until you can find a means of transport. They will be safer here than at the Ice Station.”
Connor was abruptly struck by the fact that Thor had never asked what the danger was. He looked intently at the red-bearded face and then, drawn by a strange, changing focus, he noticed a gigantic, double-bladed battle-ax hung high above the stone fireplace.
Twin-bladed, each crescent slab of sharpened steel as wide as Connor’s chest, the battle-ax seemed to glow, strange and subdued, with a fantastic war scene exquisitely engraved upon the side, a scene that intrigued Connor despite everything else that was happening.
Connor felt an eerie sensation as he studied the image, the image of a great, fiery dragon with wings as wide as the universe itself, viciously locked in battle with a heroic, winged figure that grimly held the dragon’s hideous head, struggling breath to breath.
Wrestling in the stars, the two gigantic warrior figures were exquisitely embroidered into the side of the battle-ax with uncountable smaller figures battling beneath them.
Despite Connor’s rush, he was struck by the image and the vague feeling of power it invoked. There was something distinctly ancient and forgotten in the scene, something that gave an Old Testament sensation. Connor blinked to shake himself from the distraction as Thor leaned over him. The giant’s hand had settled on his shoulder.
“We will discover what the danger is,” the Norseman rumbled. “Perhaps it is not what we think, my friend. That would be unlikely. A man’s imagination can do many things.”
“Maybe,” Connor replied, turning his attention from the ax. “But I’m not taking any chances with my family. So you stay here and I’ll bring Beth and Jordan this afternoon. I want them here until I can get all of us off this island.”
“I will make arrangements. They will be comfortable.”
“I’ll be back in four hours.” Connor moved to the door, pausing. “And keep an eye out, partner. I’ve got a real bad feeling about this.”
***
A doubled guard stood at the gate when Connor reentered the Ice Station. Although the entrance was usually a perfunctory ritual, this time the Rangers motioned for Connor to step down from the Jeep. Connor readily complied. They directed him into the guard’s shack, where Barley was waiting. The muscular lieutenant looked morose.
Connor stared at him.
“Well, what is it, Barley?”
Barley shook his head. “This place has gone weird, Connor. I don’t know how else to say it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Blake is really messed up, man. He went ballistic when he received a report of your fixin’ the breaker box. I ain’t never seen anything like it. It was unreal. Things are tight in the cavern, buddy.”
“That’s not my problem, Barley. That’s military.”
“You’re right about that,” he replied. “But there’s something else. Blake wanted to know where you went when you left the base. He was zooming, Connor. Like he was on drugs or something. Just crazy. And there was some kind of rat-faced Russian dude with him. And ... I hate to tell you about this, man, but we had a wild scene at the Communications Center. And Beth was right in the middle of it.”
Connor said nothing, freezing on Barley.
Barley raised his hands. “I didn’t have anything to do with it, Connor! I wasn’t even there!”
“What happened, Barley?”
The lieutenant shook his head, as if shocked. “It was wild, Connor. It went down about an hour ago, when Blake and that inbred Russian goon came up to the surface with his squad of MPs. They went straight to the Communications Center and accused Beth of doing something with the computer system. Like I said, I wasn’t there, but I heard that it was a real ugly confrontation. That crazy Blake was in Beth’s face and Beth wouldn’t back down. She told ‘em off, boy, and I heard it was ugly. Then the Russian made a move like he was going to do something to Beth, so she smashed him across the face with a keyboard. Sent him flying.”
Barley paused, took a deep breath. “And then it was pure pandemonium, man. I mean pure pandemonium. Blake was screaming for more MPs, for all his MPs, but Beth wasn’t going anywhere! And then the fight was on! And to make it even worse, a bunch of your electrical guys saw Blake beating up on Beth and they went ballistic! Your boys grabbed chains and two-by-fours and four-by-fours and everything else they could find and charged into the Communications Center to help her.” He hesitated, fatigue on his face. “Before it was over, fifty of your construction guys went nose to nose with almost all of Blake’s MPs and, son, let me tell you something. It was a no-holds-barred, full-blown, head-bustin’, backbreaking fiasco from beginning to end. The Communications Center is demolished. And I honestly think that your guys would have won in the end if Blake hadn’t pulled out his .45 and fired a full clip into the ceiling.”
Barley took a deep breath. “Then everybody stopped fighting. I guess it was because they thought somebody’d been killed. I hear that Blake swore he’d plant the next man that lifted a hand against an MP. And that pretty much ended the head-bashin’. After that, everybody was placed under arrest. There’s about fifty people laid up in the groundside medic
al center, most of them military.” Barley paused, staring. “Blake’s MPs were put on stretchers, man. And . . . and Blake took Beth down into the cavern, Connor. In handcuffs.”
Connor was dangerously still. His eyes locked like lasers on Barley.
“Was Beth injured?”
“No,” Barley replied quickly. “Beth wasn’t hurt, man. She might have... she might have gotten a few bruises and scratches because she was right in the thick of it. But she’s not hurt. I had a few minutes to meet with her in the Housing Cavern before I came topside and she looked okay. But she made me promise that I’d fill you in on everything when you came back from Thor’s place.”
Connor nodded. “I appreciate it, Barley. How many of my men are hospitalized?”
“Ten of them are in topside with broken bones and thirty more are locked up in the warehouse.” Barley paused. “I didn’t really have any choice, Connor. Those were Blake’s orders. And the rest... the rest are really, really mad, man. It is absolutely not safe for the military to walk around this place. I’m telling you the truth. This island is about to explode.”
“What about Blake’s MPs?”
“Well, like I said, almost all of them came up to deal with the riot in the Communications Center, and they pretty much got wiped out. Your guys demolished them.”
“So who’s in charge of security of the cavern?”
“Blake.” Barley nodded. “Blake has assumed command over the three platoons.”
“And Chesterton?”
“He’s been given an Executive Command to step down. He turned over command to Blake.”
“So Chesterton’s not in charge anymore?”
“No.” Barley looked away, dejected. “Chesterton ain’t in charge no more. It’s just Blake.”
Connor’s face was hard.
“Well ... if Beth is in the cavern, who’s watching Jordan?”
Barley nervously licked his lips. “Blake took Jordan down into the cavern with him, Connor. And I don’t know any reason for—”
With a curse Connor had already turned, slamming the door outward so hard that it struck the wooden wall of the shack and stayed there. Then Connor was running, Barley and the two guards hastening to keep up as he made a dead direct line for the cavern entrance.
Chapter 12
A rapturous pleasure, almost sensuous, flowed from the eyes of Dr. Sol Tolvanos as he leaned over the Observation Room panel. His fish-white face glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, and his lips moved minutely as if mouthing silent awe, or praise.
On the monitor the massive black scales of Leviathan could be seen through the vaporous shroud spiraling lazily up from the cavern floor. Enormous in the gray gloom, the heavily armored Dragon remained in a motionless hibernation.
“Initiate the test,” Tolvanos whispered to the computer specialists. “Begin a slow decrease of the nitrogen level to allow a 20 percent oxygen mixture. And lower cavern temperature to 32 degrees Fahrenheit. Prime nitrogen pheromones for quick extinguishing.”
The computer matrix blinked with the commands.
“Are you quite certain,” Adler asked, trembling, “that you can control the creature?”
“Of course I am certain, Mr. Adler,” the Russian replied, not looking up from the monitor. “It is, after all, only an animal. It is not a god. Any competent scientist retains the ability to control his creation. Or kill it. Anything less is nonsensical.”
Adler stared at the screen, sweat beading his forehead.
“Yes, of course.”
Connor was the first man off the elevator, Barley and two guards following. And the first thing Connor saw were Army Rangers decked in full combat gear, rifles at port arms.
“Stand down!” Barley ordered, moving up beside Connor. “I’ve got it under control!”
Without hesitation the soldiers obeyed, and Connor understood how solidly Barley commanded his men. It was obvious that Barley held as unbreakable a control over the men as Chesterton himself.
“Beth and Jordan are being held in the Housing Complex,” Barley said, breathless as they moved. “And listen, Connor. Blake also ordered Frank’s science team held there, too. That crazy colonel has turned this entire cavern into some kind of prison.”
“What about the rest of Blake’s MPs?”
“Most of Blake’s people are in the hospital or guarding the warehouse or the docks, Connor. But I think that two of them are in the Observation Room, just to keep the area secure.”
“So only two of Blake’s people are still in the cavern?”
Barley nodded. “Just the two in the Observation Room. But you’ve got to remember, Connor, Blake has assumed command of the platoons. And I’m taking a big chance right now. I’m supposed to have you under arrest. Like Beth and Jordan and the rest of Frank’s team.”
Connor suddenly released his anger, turning fully. “How could you let them do this, Barley?”
“I’m sorry, Connor. Those were the orders.”
“That’s no excuse,” Connor responded, teeth clenched. “You know what they’ve got in that Containment Cavern.” His voice was accusing. “How could you let them bring Beth and Jordan down here with that thing ready to tear down those doors?”
“Those were the orders, Connor!” Barley shouted. “This place is still under military law! If I disobey Blake I’ll just be put in the brig like everybody else in this place!”
“Well tell me this,” Connor said, leaning forward. “Does Chesterton know that Blake has dragged my family down here?
Does Chesterton know that two innocent civilians have been placed under military arrest in the middle of a combat zone?”
“No,” Barley shook his head. “Chesterton doesn’t know that Beth and Jordan have been hauled down here. He’s been busy at the Containment Cavern. Real busy.”
“Yeah, I figure he has, Barley. Because Chesterton doesn’t think that he can contain that thing. And neither do you.”
Barley was silent.
Connor said, “Raise Chesterton on the horn.”
“Connor, Blake has ordered all radio contact through him. And the way they’ve screwed up the communications system of this place, we can’t even call from cavern to cavern on the phones. All we’ve got are A-units and they barely work inside these walls!”
“Get Chesterton on the horn, Barley!” Connor snarled. “Tell him that Blake has dragged Beth and Jordan down here! Then tell him that I’m down here, too, and that I’m about to do something massive.”
Barley stared, hesitating. “Blake will hear the transmission, Connor. And Chesterton has been relieved of command! Don’t you get it? Don’t you understand? Chesterton isn’t in charge anymore! And Blake is crazy! I’m telling you, man, he’s—”
“Just do it, Barley!”
A long pause, and Barley finally raised his A-unit. “Squad Leader One to Top Dog.”
A moment later, Chesterton’s angry voice came over the radio. It took Barley thirty seconds to explain the situation, and when he finished he lifted his finger from the “send” button to hear the response. Connor also listened, wondering how Chesterton would receive the news.
Chesterton never replied.
A half hour later Connor entered the Housing Complex to see Frank’s science team sitting in circles. Startled, many of them stood as he entered. Connor knew that he appeared enraged and dangerous and out of control and he didn’t care. He scanned the entire complex, not finding Beth or Jordan. He turned angrily to Barley.
“Where are they?’‘
Barley demanded an immediate answer from the two Rangers stationed in the cavern, and seconds later Connor entered the complex to see Beth sitting against a far wall, gently cradling Jordan in her arms. Jordan saw him as soon as he entered, leaping instantly to his feet.
“Daddy!” he screamed, running quickly through a maze of chairs
. Connor ran forward and caught his son in his arms. He searched the boy’s face, searched his body for any signs of injury, found none. He was obviously tired, but unharmed. Then Beth was beside him and Connor looked, identifying faint scratches and bruises on her face and arms.
“Are you hurt, Beth?”
She shook her head sharply. “No. I’m mad but I’m not hurt.”
Connor nodded and turned to Jordan.
“Are you doing okay?” he smiled.
Jordan nodded. “Yeah. Are you okay?”
With a smile Connor replied, “Yeah. I’m just fine, boy.” He continued to hold Jordan in his arms. The four-year-old was patting him on the back with the attitude that everything was fine now, just fine, fine, everything was fine ...
With burning eyes Beth focused on him. “A lot happened, Connor. And I feel ... I feel like it’s all my fault.”
“Tell me what happened, Beth.”
A pause, and she spoke, “I found out that they’d set up a code that prevented interfacing with any satellite system. So I copied all the incoming keyboard strokes during the past twenty-four hours on a high density disk—”
“Why?”
She sighed. “Because the keyboard strokes will contain the code.” A pause. “Anyway, I began deciphering the encryption, and twenty minutes later that ape-crazy Blake came up to the surface with a bunch of MPs to arrest me. That Russian was with them.”
“How did they know what you were doing?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, shaking her head. “They must’ve had somebody in the cavern monitoring keystrokes in the Communications Center. That’s all I can figure.”
Yeah,” Connor replied, “I could see them doing that. All right. What happened when they came into the Center?”
“Well,” she continued, “we got into an argument. And then that Russian goon tried to grab me and I just ... I just lost my temper. He put his hands on me and before I knew what I was doing, I hit him with a keyboard.” She brushed back her bangs. “And then the fight was on, Connor. All the MPs jumped on me and put me on the floor. Then about forty or fifty of your guys saw what was happening and ran into the Center and had it out massively with the MPs.
Thrilled to Death Page 113