She could have definitely loved a man like that. She breathed out slowly again.
In another life.
And in another time.
Because right now, she had a job to do. She’d followed Nostradamus as far as she could. Now she had to explore the future for herself. See what it had planned for her. By deciding to continue searching for the Nostradamus Equation, she was willingly risking the lives of future generations. She would risk sending the entire human race into extinction at the turn of the twenty second century, for the very remote possibility that she could change the future. A future where the human race becomes extinct in three hundred years.
She still didn’t know why she had done it. What had made her take such a tremendous gamble? It wasn’t even hers to make – it was not her risk. Zara thought about that for a moment. She knew the answer, deep down, although she struggled to admit it to herself.
Because Nostradamus had told her she would succeed…
And because she couldn’t live in a world where her unborn daughter was the last generation of the human race!
The helicopter banked hard to the right and straightened out on a direct northerly course. She felt her stomach lurch at the sudden change in pressure and at the same time, bile rose uncomfortably in her throat. Her eyes glanced at Tom, who appeared confident at the helicopter’s controls. Next to him, Sam was plotting a new course into the GPS.
Zara leaned forward. “Malta’s back that way. Where are you heading?”
Sam shook his head, apologetically. “There’s been a change of plans.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“We just took a mayday call. There’s been a large submarine earthquake in the waters south of Sicily. A seismograph located at Portopalo Di Capo Passero on the southern tip of Sicily recorded a reading of 8.2 on the Richter scale. Its epicenter is estimated at approximately thirty miles due south of the coast of Sicily. The water there is shallow. There’s going to be a massive tsunami. The Sikorsky has a large carrying capacity, and long range fuel tanks. We’ve been requested to help look for any survivors along the coast.”
She nodded. “How close are we?”
“We’ll be there within the hour. We can’t rescue anyone from its initial battery of waves, but we might help some people who get swept out to sea afterwards. The Maria Helena has already turned to make its way there, too.”
Zara asked, “Will those living on the Sicilian coast survive?”
Sam said, “It depends. If their early tsunami warning system is good, people will have time to evacuate. The greatest enemy is complacency. Tsunamis rarely look dangerous as they approach. It’s only once they strike the coast that their potentially devastating force is realized.”
She nodded, but said nothing.
Had the future just challenged her decision to abandon Nostradamus’s warning, and continue to search for the Nostradamus Equation?
Chapter Eighty-Eight
The southern coastal town of Pozzallo, in the Sicilian Provence of Ragusa, had once been a strategic landing point for trade relations with Spain, stretching back to the Renaissance. These days, its primary resource, like so many other coastal towns, was tourism. People came from all over the world to visit its pristine stretches of shallow beaches and calm waters.
Standing on an old stone fortification named the Pandolfo Palace, a tourist smiled. He had traveled to many places, but this one held the unique distinction of actually being precisely as beautiful as the travel magazines had boasted. It was shaping up to be the perfect summer day. The sun was directly above. He stared out at the tranquil turquoise water.
The tsunami crept toward the low lying shores of Southern Sicily at a speed of four hundred and eighty miles per hour. The crest of the wave stood at barely one and a half feet. It provided the tourist with no reason to doubt his safety. A glance by those on the beach would assume the Mediterranean Sea was behaving normally today, with shallow waves, and no violent crests. Lulled, the tourist, tempted by the pristine waters of the Med, decided to take a swim.
Employed by a high-end European car company, he had recently negotiated a deal worth a cool billion Euros to source lithium for their upcoming Electric Vehicles. The deal meant that the company he worked for wouldn’t have to compete for lithium, and would be able to concentrate on the technology instead. It had also made him very rich. He was being paid with stock-options. If it worked, as he knew it would, he would be a very rich man in the next few years.
Feeling content with that thought, he stepped into the warm water until he was waist deep. He closed his eyes and then floated on his back. The warmth of the sun reached every inch of his body, while his back remained a perfect temperature. Not hot. Not cold. If there was ever such a thing as heaven on earth, this must have been it.
The tourist placed his feet firmly on the sand. The water was up to a little less than his waist. He stared at the beach. Something had happened. Everyone was running toward something. He barely noticed the water receding. People screamed. There must have been an accident.
I hope no one has been seriously hurt…
The water receded further and he was now standing in wet sand, while the water retreated further. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it confused him. He would have turned and looked behind him under normal circumstances, out of curiosity, more than concern. But now, his attention was set, focusing on the unknown drama unfolding on the beach.
He heard the roar of a thousand motorboats at full throttle and turned to glance over his shoulder. There were no motor boats. At least none that he could see. Instead, a wall of water, at least ten feet high, raged toward him.
Where did that come from?
The tourist stood still. He didn’t run. Instead he watched as his death came hurling toward him at nearly five hundred miles an hour. A split second later, the monster struck him – and his world disappeared.
Chapter Eighty-Nine
Sam looked out at the open expanse of dark blue water. Even at full speed, it was going to take at least an hour to reach the Sicilian coastline. Inside the Sikorsky, all three of them were silent. Waiting for a report from the Sicilian coast. When the report came, it informed them that a ten foot tsunami struck the coast, but casualties were relatively low.
Each of them glanced at one another in silence. They each wore the same expression – did we just change history?
Sam said, “How long, Tom?”
He grinned. “You tell me. You’re navigating.”
“No. I mean, how long have you and Genevieve been an item?”
“You don’t think I’d be stupid enough to kiss and tell when it comes to Geneveive, do you?”
“Come on, it’s me?”
“And it’s Genevieve. You know the woman was an assassin or something? You’ve seen her. It’s like she was a hostage breaker. An interrogator who was strongly opposed to the Geneva Convention’s rights for Prisoners of War. I wouldn’t last two minutes when we returned and she’d know exactly how much I told you.”
“What if I told you something?”
“Like what?”
“Like…”
Tom swore. “Holy shit, she was an interrogator! Hell no. I’m not telling you anything until she tells you first.”
“Okay, forget about how long. What I want to know is where do you want it to go from here?”
“After Billie left I waited. I really thought she’d find what she was after and come back for me. As time’s gone by, I realized that was never going to happen. But then I waited, because how does anyone compare to Billie?”
“How, indeed?”
“Then things happened with Genevieve and me ...”
“And?”
“It was an accident. A lot of fun. Nothing more. Followed by another accident. Pretty soon, we were both looking forward to our accidents and for the first time in a year I’d forgotten about how much I missed Billie.”
“Wow. You can pick them, can’t you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“First you fall in love with Billie, who, let’s face it, is beautiful but rough as they get. Now you look like you’re in pretty deep with Gen, who – did I mention, killed her last boyfriend?”
Tom looked sideways from the pilot’s seat and met his gaze. “Christ are you kidding me!”
“Yeah, gotcha.” Sam patted him on the shoulder. “You know I have nothing but admiration for Genevieve. She is a truly wonderful woman.”
“Thanks. Hey, we’re coming up on the epicenter of the earthquake.”
Sam studied the map for a moment. “Are you certain?”
“Yeah. Certain. Check out the GPS coordinates. We’re coming right up on it. Why?”
Sam looked at an island below. It was shaped like an oddly formed eight on its side. More like the symbol for infinity or a lemniscate. “That island isn’t on the map.”
Tom banked the helicopter to the right and circled the island. It was still dripping wet. Seaweed, algae, and fish lined the solid sandstone planes, while the single mountain held a massive lobster. “Is it just me, or does it look to you as though that island was just born?”
“No. It looks to me like the island was born a long time ago – the tectonic shift has only just now returned it to the surface of the sea.”
“Never seen that before.”
Zara leaned in toward the cockpit again. “Can you get low enough to drop me on that island?”
Sam smiled for the first time in the past hour. “Yes. I’m sure we can get low enough to step off. I’ll join you.”
Tom met his eyes. “Are you kidding? Aren’t you worried about secondary tsunamis?”
“No,” Sam said. “If this is the epicenter, the tsunamis will be heading outward from here. This place is one of the safest coastlines around.”
Tom continued to circle the island without reducing his altitude. “Why the hell would you want to explore it right now anyway?”
“Because that island is identical to the one Nostradamus told Zara to find – which means the future either intentionally brought us here, or tried its best to keep us from landing. Either way, I want to know what’s on that island.”
Chapter Ninety
Sam watched the helicopter take off. He felt a little guilt about not continuing with Tom on their original mission to search for survivors along the Sicilian coast. His steadfast pragmatism overcame the sensation. This entire thing apparently had to do with some sort of divine plan; a future only Nostradamus had seen. If this island held the key to the Nostradamus equation, then he had to find it.
The helicopter banked north and the droning sound of its rotor blades quickly disappeared. Sam secured his backpack and looked at Zara.
She asked, “Do you have a plan?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Now we find the Nostradamus equation.”
Zara laughed. “Yeah, good plan!”
Sam stared at the island. Tom had left them on the western side of the island. The one that was mostly flat, while the opposite end had a small mountain in the middle. The entire island was a little less than a mile, end to end. Maybe a quarter of a mile wide. Two perfectly circular islands, standing side by side, with a joining partition of sandstone approximately ten feet in length, making both circles form into a single island.
The ground was mostly covered with white sand. Despite coming from the ocean bed, thirty feet below, there was limited seaweed or other signs of plant life. The occasional fish could be seen dying where it lay stranded. Crustaceans, disoriented by the strange turn of events, left their homes and wandered idly in search of the ocean. There was a strong smell of sea life in the air. It wasn’t yet offensive, because the island hadn’t been out of the water long enough for the sea creatures to die and start to decompose, but in a day or two they were going to need a mask just to breathe on this island.
They walked in a broad counterclockwise circle around the western circumference of the island. The edge of the island was nearly ten feet out of the water and was formed by hardened sand. Sam guessed it would be hard to climb up again if he fell over the side. The vertical sand banks that marked the edge of the island had already started to break away and fall into the water below. Sam felt the future was already hurrying him along, as the ocean began the tedious process of reclaiming the island.
A large chunk of hardened sand fell into the water below. Sam stepped backwards, making a mental note not to get so close to the edge again. “I won’t get that close again.”
Zara asked, “Do you think it’s all sand?”
“The island?”
“Yeah.”
Sam stared at the white sand that formed the western circle. It looked like a postcard of a deserted island. “No. The edge might be hardened sand, but sandcastles don’t survive in the ocean. This place must have the geology of hardened stone at its core.”
Once they reached the other end they cut right through the middle of the island and stopped where thousands of polished black stones were layered on top of each other to form a connective tissue between the two circles of the island. Each stone was identical in shape and color. They looked out of place between the sandy circular islands. More like someone had meticulously layered each one precisely where it now sat.
Sam squatted down and picked up one of the stones. It was small enough to fit in the palm of his hand, but heavy like a dumbbell, which meant it was most likely solid all the way through. The stone had been polished so perfectly he could see his own reflection.
“It’s obsidian,” Sam said.
Zara picked up another stone to examine it. “Obsidian doesn’t belong anywhere near here.”
“It doesn’t?”
“No. Obsidian is a naturally occurring volcanic glass. It’s formed when lava, extruding from a volcano, cools rapidly with minimal crystal growth. Most often found in obsidian lava flows, where the chemical composition of silica is extremely high, making the molten liquid extremely viscous.”
“Come again?” Sam grinned at her erudite explanation.
“It means the liquid moves slowly because it’s thick and gluey, making it difficult for crystals to form. The end outcome of this process is that obsidian is hard and brittle. It fractures in sharp edges popular throughout the stone age for cutting and piercing.”
“Okay. So what makes you so certain it doesn’t belong here?”
“Because I’ve studied ancient Egyptians extensively, and they went to great lengths to find obsidian for weapons and tools. They had to trade for it because the only two places in the Mediterranean where the stone was found was in Turkey and Italy. And in both cases, they weren’t found on the coast.”
“Which means?”
Zara placed her tongue between her teeth, and then smiled. “These stones were intentionally moved here.”
Chapter Ninety-One
Unable to find any purpose or meaning to the stones, Sam walked across the obsidian bridge and onto the eastern side of the island. He and Zara followed the coast in a clockwise direction. Like the western circle, the bank was formed with hardened sand. That sand was now slowly being eroded by the constant lapping of the Mediterranean Sea.
They circled the eastern coast by one thirty in the afternoon. The coast appeared almost identical to the western side of the island. It formed a perfect circle that matched the exact diameter of its western sibling. With the exception of a few misplaced and sorry-looking sea creatures, the ground was barren. Its white sand made the perfect tourist’s picture of a deserted island.
Where the eastern side changed from its western sibling, was in the center of the island. Unlike its counterpart, which was completely flat, this side had a small mountain at its center. They cut into the center with a northerly track until they reached the base of the mountain.
“You see anything?” he asked.
Zara looked upwards for a few moments before answering. “I see a deserted island and a small mountain.”
“Seem strange to you?”<
br />
“Everything here seems strange to me,” she said. “Was there anything in particular you were referring to?” Her response was curt, and just shy of pugnacious.
He glanced at her. “You do know I’m here to help you right?”
“Sorry. I’m just pissed off, because I feel like this entire thing is one big game that Nostradamus is playing with me. Nothing makes scientific sense. If he's just playing a game, I resent it. And if he wasn’t playing a game, and his visions were correct, then that means the future is going to do all it can to stop me from finding the Nostradamus Equation.”
Sam turned his glance to the mountain. “It’s okay. I don’t understand it any better than you do. Do you want to know what I see?”
“Sure. Go ahead.”
“The mountain appears entirely made up of hardened sand.”
Sam leaned against the base of the steep mountain and pressed his fingers deep into the sand. The mountain resisted for a moment and then gave way to the pressure exerted by his fingers. It was hardened sand. But sand none the less. He looked at her face. She looked intrigued. But there was something else in her face, too. She appeared to be enjoying herself, like this was the real reason she followed her father’s footsteps into archeology.
He asked, “Have you ever heard of a sandcastle surviving once the sea swallowed it?”
Zara tried to push her hand through the hardened sand. “I know a lot about sand, actually. I grew up in the Sahara. It doesn’t behave like this underneath the sea. Maybe the tectonic shift which caused the submarine earthquake pushed the seabed up like this?”
“I don’t think so. This sand looks like it’s been in this shape for years. The lines of the mountain are too rigid for it to be the result of a tectonic shift.”
The Sam Reilly Collection Volume 2 Page 79