Elise looked at Margret. “It’s breaking apart!”
Chapter Eighty-Five
The third distinct sound Sam heard was the bulk of the ice separating from the Island. With the removal of the top of the Island, air was no longer trapped inside, and water was free to gush into the tunnels from below. They were now blocked from their dive equipment and any chance of escape. Air whipped through the surrounding tunnels around them. The tunnel they currently occupied would protect them for a while from the influx of water, but as the Island sank, the pressure would increase and break through the watertight doors.
Sam looked at Tom and Robert – their hardened faces told him they recognized the sound and knew their time was nearly over. Sam squeezed Alexis’s hand. “I’m sorry. This is it.”
She squeezed it back and smiled kindly at him. “It’s okay. Not your fault.”
Robert Cassidy broke their embrace. His eyes were wide and filled with adrenaline. “Follow me. There may still be time.”
“Time for what?” Sam, Tom and Alexis said in unison.
“To survive, of course!” Robert grinned madly as he began moving along the tunnel. “Sam Reilly, I believe you must continue my research. You understand how important it is? Mankind must not be allowed to keep making the mistakes the way they have.”
Sam had no idea what Cassidy was talking about. It seemed outrageous the old man wanted him to try again with the Cassidy Project. Even so, telling the only person who knew of an escape route that he was a fool seemed like a poor decision. Consequently, Sam simply nodded and followed.
“Mankind must be allowed to carry on!” Cassidy continued.
“Yes,” Sam replied, “of course!”
It took nearly five minutes of hard running before they reached the next door. Sam felt his ears pop several times. He equalized them by opening his jaw and then looked at Cassidy. “We’re sinking, aren’t we?”
“Yes. And fast.” Cassidy looked kindly at them, quickly unlocking the bolts in the watertight door. “We’ll be nearly to the bottom by now. Almost a thousand feet.”
“There’s no way we can reach the surface from there.”
Robert shook his head. “No way at all. It’s a good thing the three of you aren’t going to the surface.”
Chapter Eighty-Six
The door opened and the four of them raced into the next compartment. Sam grinned in pleasure. A small tunnel vehicle, similar to the one he and Tom had discovered in the subterranean Hadron Collider, made of glass and ceramics stood at the water’s edge. It had four sets of three angled wheels. Each one mounted on the edge of the futuristic mine cart. The type he’d imagined were placed on a rollercoaster to protect it from falling off despite the severe speeds being achieved. It was attached to the quad yellow lines. Sam recognized them as the same ones used by the workers inside the Hadron Collider when they escaped earlier.
“Well, friends – what do you think?” Robert opened the hatch. “This is how we built the subterranean Hadron Collider. This will take you inside the bowels of the ice cavern in the main work station.”
Sam knew the place. He’d been there less than twelve hours earlier. “Why didn’t the tracks break?”
“They’re made out of a high tensile and flexible composite material we developed. Even though the Island has spent the last decade locally, in these frigid waters, it often rises and falls with the tide. It was important for us to have a stable means for accessing the Hadron Collider. I’d love to explain it all to you, but the line is only so long. If we sink much further the track may snap under the strain!”
Sam looked inside. There were only three seats, and even then it was going to be difficult to fit three adults inside. “It doesn’t look big enough for the four of us.”
“No.” Robert smiled effortlessly. “But the three of you should be able to squeeze inside.”
“You’re not coming with us, are you?” Sam asked.
Robert Cassidy shook his head, his gray beard surrounding his kind smile. “No. I’m old. I’ve been fighting this war against the stupidity of the human race a long time. My solution may have been radical and may have been wrong, but it was the only one I had and I believed it was the best way for the rest of the inhabitants of this planet to survive, as well as for mankind. I still do. The battle’s lost, but I believe the three of you should take up the next generation of fighters. My time is over.”
Sam looked at Cassidy. The man may have been crazy and spent his life trying to achieve the destruction of the human race as we know it, but his beliefs were honorable. Sam held out his hand. “We’ll try our best.”
Cassidy took it and gripped it warmly. “God speed, friends.”
Alexis and Tom climbed into the middle and back seat. Sam climbed in last and closed the hatch.
“One more thing!” Robert said. “If you follow the green line you’ll find the rest of the residents of the Island, the surviving crew from a B52 Bomber who unfortunately landed here in 1983, and the rest of the crew from the Antarctic Solace.”
Chapter Eighty-Seven
Two weeks later Alexis worked on her laptop on board the Antarctic Solace. She had been given the green light to manage the Massive Hadron Collider. There would be a lot of legal red tape as well as feasibility studies to overcome before it could be used again. In general though, all members of the Antarctic Treaty System were unanimously in favor of continuing its work with her in control. There was a lot of work to be done, but she’d never shied away from hard effort.
She felt the Antarctic Solace rock as another ship pulled along her portside. Alexis got up and stepped out to see if the man she was waiting for would come to her. Sam Reilly had been consumed by the rescue response and she hadn’t seen him since the fateful night the Island sank.
A man in his mid-fifties walked up the gangway, slowly moving towards her. He’d only just arrived from the latest trip made by the Maria Helena which had spent the last two weeks ferrying the rest of the survivors from the Island in East Antarctica back to the Antarctic Solace. It was the last trip the Maria Helena needed to make, and she watched with disappointment that it wasn’t Sam Reilly who walked up the gangway. All the passengers from the Antarctic Solace were already aboard, and the original scientists and small community from the Island had all been taken to the USS Texas for investigation into their potential involvement in the Cassidy Project.
So the question nagged at her mind – Who is that man? And where did he come from?
The answer to that question was going to arrive shortly as he approached her. Despite his age, he looked at her with the uncertainty of a man unaccustomed to talking to a young, beautiful, woman.
The man bent down to speak closer to her, as though he were hard of hearing. “Are you Alexis Schultz, Ma’am?”
“Yes,” she nodded.
He held out his hand to introduce himself. “My name is Able Rigby. A long time ago I was an aft gunner on board a B52H Bomber Stratofortress, named Maverick’s Menace.”
Alexis gasped at the name and threw her arms around him. There were tears in her eyes as she embraced the stranger.
“My Commanding Officer was a Major James Maverick. To this day, I believe he was the kindest, most intelligent and decent man that ever lived.” Able smiled warmly. “And I believe you were his one and only niece. He spoke about you often. You were his one big regret. He used to say he’d lived a good life, but he wanted to see you grow up.”
“What happened to my uncle?” she asked.
“He died only recently. Pneumonia of all things. Can you believe it? After all he’d been through? I just wanted you to know that he was good man. Someone you should be proud of.” Able handed her a red leather bound journal. “This was his journal. He wrote every day. Not much, but something. He wanted you to have this. He hoped that from it you might come to understand why he decided to support Robert Cassidy.”
“Thank you,” she said. Wet droplets were running freely down her freckled cheeks
. “Thank you for your duty, for supporting my uncle and for giving me closure.”
“You’re welcome.”
Alexis watched as Abel Rigby walked away. He hadn’t left her sight before she untied the leather bindings and opened her uncle’s journal. She flicked through until she found the first page he’d written in and began reading.
*
Dear Alexis,
If you ever find this journal let me begin to explain the circumstances surrounding our commitment to a man named Robert Cassidy and a Project that commenced back in 1962. You see, you have to understand I lived in a time when the world had gone mad. The two superpowers, the United States of America and the Soviet Union were never engaged directly in full-scale armed combat against one another, but they were heavily armed in preparation for a possible all-out nuclear world war. Each side had a nuclear deterrent that deterred an attack by the other side, on the basis that such an attack would lead to total destruction of the attacker. Both sides focused on the doctrine of mutually assured destruction if either party attacked.
We were all mad. In a world filled with madmen, sometimes the only person to turn to is a mad man. That was how I came to trust my friend, and ally, Robert Cassidy.
In September 1983 Robert Cassidy had attempted peaceful de-escalation negotiations with low level representatives of both the U.S. and Soviet Union. Shortly after the clandestine meeting a passenger plane was accidentally shot down by the Soviets while carrying one sitting U.S. Senator. President Ronald Reagan feared the Soviets were in the process of attempting to steal the Cassidy Project and would use it against them with the most gravest of outcomes for the U.S. Consequently, Ronald Reagan ordered the destruction of the Island and betrayal of his long term friend, Robert Cassidy.
This was part of that assassination attempt, and as you read the rest of my journal, I hope you’ll understand why, I too, decided to help Robert Cassidy.
Chapter Eighty-Eight
Sam smiled as he saw Alexis. He knew Able Rigby had given Alexis her uncle’s journal – he had given her the truth. At a glance he guessed her tears were a mixture of pride for who he was and of loss of what he could never be. Sam wanted to be there for her. In whatever capacity she needed him. Alexis stood up to meet him. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. At first Sam thought she just wanted to be held. Needed to be comforted. And then he felt her lips on his. It was gentle at first. Tentative. And then filled with strong, passionate and drawn-out kisses. Afterwards Sam sat down next to Alexis, holding both her hands in his.
She smiled. Her green eyes were full of intelligence and life. “You’ve been busy.”
“There were a lot more people down the green tunnel than we expected. Robert Cassidy created a unique, self-sustaining community. But it’s done now.”
“Where will you go?” she asked.
“From here we’ll return to Florida. The Maria Helena is due for an overhaul, not to mention repairs for our helicopter and the replacement of the hovercraft. I might take a vacation. Do you want to join me?”
Alexis sat up. She fidgeted. What doesn’t she want to say? “I can’t. They’ve given me the go ahead to lead a team of scientists to determine the feasibility of utilizing the Massive Hadron Collider in East Antarctica. By the sounds of things, the signatories of the Antarctic Treaty System are willing to go for it.”
“That’s great news.” Sam squeezed her hand and watched her eyes turn away from his. “But something’s not right.”
“I spoke to Aliana Wolfgang this morning.”
Sam smiled. “Wow. You know Aliana?”
“We were Rhodes Scholars together.”
“You went to Oxford, before Harvard? Talk about being an overachiever.”
“Yes,” she blushed at his complement.
“How is she?” Sam asked with genuine interest.
“She sends her love and hopes you are well. I called her because something about your name sounded familiar. It wasn’t until the Island had sunk and we got the internet running again that I googled your name and it all came back. I remembered Aliana talking about this really great guy the last time I saw her – that was about twelve months ago.”
Sam squeezed her hands. “We broke up amicably. She has her research and I have my projects. The two kept us pretty far apart.”
Alexis brought his hand up to her lips and kissed it tenderly. “You know I can’t do this again?”
“Because of Aliana?” Sam asked.
“No. She told me about your situation. I’m with her – I couldn’t be with someone I was always waiting to find out wasn’t ever going to come home. The world needs heroes, Sam – they do. The problem with heroes though, is there are very few who live long enough to grow old with someone. You know that, don’t you? Luck only lasts so far.”
“I understand what you’re saying.”
She smiled at him, leaned close. Closed her eyes and kissed him again. “But I’m really glad you showed up when you did.”
“Am I likely to see you again, sometime?”
“Probably not.”
He looked a little crestfallen. “I understand.”
“It’s not that, Sam. I’m staying here in Antarctica.”
“You liked the cold that much?”
“Yes. The cold helps with the overall running of the world’s largest Hadron Collider.”
“They’re going to let you keep it?”
“It will take years to overcome the red tape, but yes – I think we’ll get there. The world needs new energy sources if we’re ever going to colonize space.”
“We have to colonize space?”
“Course we do. Colonization is built into our genes. It’s part of human existence. Think of all the wars in the world. We just aren’t difficult to get along with, the human race is genetically programed to propagate and expand. Like locusts, we inevitably destroy the environment while we flourish. If we want to survive, one day we’re going to have to colonize the stars.”
“You’ll never live long enough to see it through.”
“Someone needs to start the steps so that generations thousands of years down from us can lead better lives.”
“You’re an amazing person.”
“So are you.”
He kissed her again. “Next time I’m down this way I might just look you up and take you out on a date.”
“I look forward to it.”
Epilogue
Steve Cachia sat in the corner of the tiny bar in the small town of Port Stephens in West Falkland Island. His second glass of locally brewed beer stood untouched; a book on the rare birdlife of the small island on the South Atlantic archipelago laid on the table next to it. He’d left the book open with such frequency he was almost certain he’d begun to know what was inside. Three guys took turns playing rounds of pool at the other end of the room. The barman, an entirely bald man with heavily wrinkled skin poured himself a shot of strong liquor. He drank it and then continued drying recently washed glasses with a hand towel.
It was hard to maintain a certain level of anonymity under the circumstances. Steve grinned. It had been two months and whoever he was waiting for still hadn’t showed. He slumped his heavyset shoulders forward. His eyes were vacant, casually watching some gameshow on an antiquated television in the background. At his prime he used to be two hundred and thirty pounds of solid muscle. Once a top detective with New York’s finest, he’d been given a pension after twenty years of exceptional service. Now fifty, he was still two hundred and thirty pounds, but the ratio of fat to muscle had changed places. Even so, he could move quickly if he needed to and there was a lot more strength in his arms than anyone would have given him credit for.
Like many before him, he’d found the pension less than what he was used to living on and the life of early retirement unfulfilling. Consequently, he’d started his own private detective agency. That’s how he came to find himself exceedingly bored on this small island in the middle of nowhere. His current
case was as boring as it was ridiculous. If it wasn’t for the money some fool was throwing at him he would have never taken it, let alone stayed this long.
Oh well, beggars can’t be choosers.
In a world of digital espionage, smart computers, drones, and cameras no larger than your thumbnail it was hard to believe it was still important to put men on the ground for such surveillance. But technology was only so useful without having the people to act on it.
His phone vibrated. Steve pulled it out of his trouser pocket, opened it and looked at the single message.
Active movement inside the tunnel.
Someone had returned. He had set up a series of hidden cameras and motion detectors inside the tunnel at the end of the blowhole, along the surrounding areas of the island, and at the airport. He downed the second glass of beer, nodded his head politely at the barman, and walked outside.
In the next twenty-four hours he would earn the cost of his exorbitant fees. He could abduct the man within the hour, but that wasn’t what he’d been paid to do. Instead, he was to follow the person. See where he goes and report. No mistakes. If the man thinks he or she is being followed, the entire game would be over and there would be no chance of a retake.
Steve settled into his hired Range Rover and casually headed north. Steve followed the man he’d been waiting for who drove north toward Port Howard. There was no rush. He kept a good five miles behind the man. He kept him on constant visual via satellite. Not that he even needed that. It was clear where the man was going. He’d come in by aircraft and he would need to leave via one, too. From West Falkland Island he would need to catch the ferry from Port Howard to New Haven that was due to leave at three p.m. and once there he had the option of flying out of Mount Pleasant Airport or Port Stanley Airport. Both flew international.
The Sam Reilly Collection Volume 2 Page 50