“I’m okay, but it’s like five feet from me. There’s no way I can get away!”
“What do they want? Oh God, what’s happening?”
Acton waved at the vehicle, the size of a small car, a set of robotic arms visible, extending toward him. “They’re trying to grab me!” He spun around and kicked hard, away from the submersible, but he could hear its motors kick in, the sound getting louder as it neared. He looked up at the surface, still too far above, debating if the bends were worth it, but realized it didn’t matter—he couldn’t outrun a machine.
He stopped and slowly turned around, waving his surrender at the submersible, then pointing toward the surface. The arms retracted, and the machine backed off a few feet, the message apparently received.
“I’m surrendering to them and they backed off. You get to the surface and go for help.”
“O-okay, you be careful. Watch your ascent.”
“I will. I love you.”
Laura gasped out a cry, her voice cracking. “I-I love you too. I’m almost there. I’ll call Greg first, just in case I can’t reach Hugh. He might be in the air.”
“That-that sounds good.”
“Okay, I can see the boat. I’m almost…wait, something’s wrong.”
“What?”
“Oh my God. No! Let me go! Let me—!”
There was a burst of static when the comm suddenly went silent.
“Laura! Laura! What’s happening? Laura!”
12
Off the coast of Pico Island, Azores
Gavin Thatcher stared at their two prisoners, both zip-tied and blindfolded, and shook his head. He closed the door and stepped back out onto the deck, the men who had captured them standing at the bow. “Why the hell did you take them?”
One of the men, Tark Gerald, shrugged. “He saw what we were doing.”
“So? He saw some men working on an undersea cable. How would he know what we were actually doing? All you had to do was wave him off, but instead, you chased him in a submersible and attacked the woman he was diving with!” He threw his hands up in the air in frustration. “Now we have two prisoners who know we’re up to something. What the hell do we do now?”
Another shrug. “Kill them?”
Thatcher spun at him, his eyes and mouth wide with horror. “Are you kidding me? We’re not killers! What the hell do you think we’re trying to do here? We’re trying to save lives by making the world realize it’s too dependent upon modern technology! We’re trying to force people to interact more, to learn from each other, to empathize with each other, by reintroducing them to good old-fashioned face-to-face conversations. This entire exercise is to prevent the violence that is resulting from a lack of human contact. And you propose to further that cause by killing two of the people we’re actually trying to save?”
Tark stared at the deck. “Sorry, I just thought it was more important to, you know, save the mission. Better to lose two than the thousands or millions to come.”
Thatcher stared at him for a moment. The idiot was right, in a simplistic fashion. It was why they had weapons. And if these two people had indeed been a threat, he could understand the logic, though still wouldn’t have condoned their deaths. But they had never been a threat. One had stumbled upon something he didn’t understand, and the team had overreacted. “Okay, well they can’t stay here. We’ve got work to do, and I don’t want to risk having them on board, just in case one of them gets loose or someone comes looking for them.” He pointed at Tark and one of his buddies, Oswald “Spud” Fletcher. “You two take them ashore and secure them until we’re done.”
“Where?”
Thatcher growled with frustration. “Do I need to think of everything? Just take them somewhere they won’t be found!”
“And should they try to escape?”
Thatcher clasped his hands behind his neck, closing his eyes. “Don’t let them.”
“But if they should?”
Thatcher sighed, dismayed by what he was about to say. “Then kill them. We can’t risk the mission being compromised.”
13
Pico Island, Azores
Acton glared at the two men holding them, their guns tucked into their belts the only thing stopping him from attacking. In a fair fight, he was pretty sure he could take them both, especially if Laura were helping. They had been trained extensively over the past several years by Laura’s ex-SAS security team, all former members of the British Special Air Services, their equivalent to Special Forces. And, Acton was willing to bet he and Laura had seen more actual combat than these two.
But they had guns, and he couldn’t risk a stray bullet taking them out, at least not yet.
“What hotel are you staying at?”
Acton didn’t reply.
The man tapped his gun. “I’ll put a bullet in your lady friend if you’d like.”
Acton stared at him. “If you lay a finger on her, you’re dead.”
The man laughed. “Tough talk.” He tapped the gun. “Where?”
“Aldeia das Adegas.”
“Is anyone expecting you?”
Acton shook his head, deciding the better play was to leave out the fact Reading and his son were due to arrive soon.
“When are you due to leave?”
“Tomorrow.”
“How?”
“By air.”
“What flight?”
Acton hesitated. “I’m not sure.”
“What airline?”
“Umm, United.”
The man stared at him suspiciously for a moment, then pulled out his phone, tapping at the display. “Bullshit. United doesn’t fly here.” He leaned closer, tempting Acton’s foot to embed itself in the man’s groin. “What flight?”
“We have a private jet.”
Acton’s eyes darted toward Laura, wondering why she would tell them that. Then he suppressed a smile. Greed was an overwhelming force, and if they could use her—their—money to their advantage, they might just get these men to screw up, or buy their freedom.
Both men’s eyebrows rose, a quick glance exchanged.
“Private jet? What are you, rich?”
Laura nodded. “Impossibly.”
Way to go, babe, pour it on!
“And we can make it worth your while to let us go.”
There was little doubt there was an internal debate going on in the lead captor’s mind, and Acton had to admit he was not only surprised, but dismayed at what came out of the man’s mouth.
“So this jet, it can leave whenever you want?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Then that’s what we’ll do. We’ll take your jet off the island, then we won’t have to worry about anyone finding us.”
14
Public Transport Station #6, Western Sector
Atlantis
Before the fall
Ampheres stepped off the canal transport and moved with the crowd toward the street above. A commotion just above eye level from the steps had him gripping the upside-down trident tighter, and adjusting his robe now covering the top of the relic tucked under his clothing, if only partially. Feet pounding on stone, in unison, confirmed his greatest fears.
Enforcers.
And he had little doubt they were here for him. Crime was rare in Atlantis, as want was even rarer. There was no need to steal here, though that didn’t mean crimes of passion didn’t still occur. And it sometimes meant bored Enforcers were a little overzealous when they were called upon.
He spotted them at the edge of the square in front of the docks, and he froze. There was no escaping them, as he had nowhere to go. The only reason they were here and not at his home waiting for him, was probably because they had received word through the MessageStream that he would be arriving now, like the fool he was.
Why not get off at the stop before?
Or after?
Because you have no experience being a fugitive from the law!
His shoulders slumped in defeat, there littl
e point in resisting.
Somebody gripped his left arm and he nearly soiled himself.
“Professor Ampheres, do exactly as I say, and you will get out of this.”
He stared at the man now beside him. “Wh-who are you?”
“My name is Mestor, and I’m a friend. That’s all you need to know for now. Come with me.”
Mestor pulled on his arm, and rather than resist, Ampheres let himself be led at a brisk but inconspicuous pace, perpendicular to the arriving Enforcers. They stopped behind an obelisk honoring the founding fathers and mothers, and the man released his grip. He pulled a nondescript hooded robe from his bag and tossed it over Ampheres’ shoulders.
“Give me that.” Mestor reached out for the trident and Ampheres reluctantly handed it to him. “Now fix yourself.” Mestor stuffed the head of the trident into the bag, covering the exposed end with a large cloth, hiding most of the precious relic as Ampheres fixed his new robe in place. Mestor pointed to the far end of the square.
“Now, go to the street, then turn right, away from your home. I will join you in a few minutes.”
Ampheres eyed the trident. “I should take that.”
Mestor shook his head. “No, they’re looking for a man that fits your description, carrying this. Your hands are now empty, and you’ve changed your clothes, something they won’t be anticipating. Now go, before it’s too late!”
Ampheres nodded, then stepped out from behind the obelisk, resisting the urge to check over his shoulder and see what the Enforcers were doing. He could hear shouts of annoyed citizens not used to the law’s interference in their daily lives, and it terrified him. He quickened his pace as his heart hammered, then caught himself just as he was about to break out into a jog.
Calm yourself!
He slowed, drawing a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, repeating the process until he neared the street. He almost went left toward his home and his family, before he remembered his instructions and broke right. He walked along the pedestrian mall, quaint shops lining the canal, hawking wares to the traveling public, too many food stalls to count offering to save time with deliciously prepared meals. The lunch crowd was just arriving, the street thickening with those who toiled inside rather than in the fields surrounding the mountain.
The ground rumbled, shrieks erupting around him as he struggled to keep his balance, but it lasted only a few heartbeats, nervous laughter quickly replacing the momentary panic, and those around him continued on as if nothing had happened. He glanced over his shoulder at the mountain, still steaming, still warning an ignorant population of what was to come.
But only if you’re right.
He was sure he was, yet how could he be? His team had little science to work with. The entire concept of an erupting mountain was foreign to them, as their entire civilization had lived on this massive island for countless centuries, and never in their entire recorded history had there been any evidence that this was nothing beyond a regular mountain like any other they knew existed in the lands to the east.
There were reports of erupting mountains from the stories brought back by their scouts, yet none had ever seen the events described, and until the mountain here had begun to send puffs of steam into the sky, it had never occurred to anyone that this was one of those.
But what did that mean? The stories suggested destruction was possible on an unimaginable scale, but were they just stories? His own from his youth grew in exaggeration with each telling. The meal got slightly bigger each time, the bottles of wine drunk ever increasing. Were these stories any different?
“The end is near! Repent and beg Poseidon for forgiveness!”
The rants of the raging man snapped him out of his reverie, the crowd giving the man a wide berth, and Ampheres wondered if he had always been this way, or had he been triggered like he had the moment the mountain had awoken.
What would happen if the government announced the possible impending destruction?
He frowned as he passed the man. Would there be panic in the streets? Would this poor soul be multiplied a thousand-fold as his fellow Atlanteans resigned themselves to their fate? Or would they unite and solve the problem, as they had so many times before throughout their history?
He feared it would be a mix of both, as there wasn’t a solution to save everyone. The only way for that was to evacuate the island, and there weren’t enough boats, and even if there was time to build enough, there wasn’t enough wood. That resource was relatively scarce. Centuries ago, forestry management had been introduced, vast plantations now providing them with a sustainable supply, but only to maintain their basic requirements, not to build fleets of boats to sail tens of thousands of people to distant lands.
No, no matter what happened, the majority would die should he be proven right. The best Atlantis could hope for was that enough would survive to rebuild their civilization somewhere else.
Someone gripped his arm and he nearly fainted before he realized it was his savior.
“Come, there’s little time.”
“What about my family?”
“If everything has gone to plan, they are already safe.”
“Who are you?”
“A friend.”
Ampheres stopped. “That’s not good enough.”
Mestor cursed. “Fine, but at least walk with me while I explain. We can’t risk being caught.”
Ampheres agreed that was probably wise, and resumed their brisk pace.
“My name is Mestor. I’m a graduate student from the Poseidon Institute. We came to the same conclusion you did last week, and presented our findings to the government, and like you, our findings were ignored. Unlike you, none of us stole Poseidon’s damned Trident!”
Ampheres frowned. “It was rather stupid, wasn’t it?”
“It was, and it also pretty much discredited you completely. Now, any press reports about you will be that you are a whack-job who stole a priceless relic after spouting nonsense, and that discredits us all. In one foolish stroke, you’ve essentially wiped out any hope we have of warning the population.”
Ampheres’ chest ached with Mestor’s words, for they were probably right. He had conducted himself with dignity, enough that some in the Senate might have begun to question the official government line, but as soon as he had let anger rule him, he had lost all credibility. He had little doubt that his words were not spoken of from that moment on, but only his actions. It was a completely wasted opportunity, and it had probably cost the lives of every single Atlantean.
He looked at Mestor. “Why are you here?”
Mestor guided him down an alleyway. “I was to meet you after your speech, in the hopes you would join our cause. This afternoon, when the workers are heading home, we were to stage a protest in front of the Senate, demanding action, and handing out information on what is going on, to try and wake up the sheep that surround us. But now that your speech will be linked with us, I fear it will fall on deaf ears.”
“Then why not leave me to the Enforcers?”
“Because Professor Gadeiros told me to protect you.”
Ampheres nearly came to a halt, but Mestor grabbed him by the arm and urged him forward. “Professor Gadeiros? He was my mentor in university! I haven’t seen him in ages.”
“Yes, apparently you were a great disappointment to him.”
Ampheres frowned. “He told you about that?”
“He told me what happened.”
“That’s unfortunate. I don’t come off too well in that story.”
Mestor regarded him. “No, you don’t. Why he wants to save you and your family is beyond me, after what you did.”
Ampheres’ eyes burned. “I was in love, and young.”
They emerged onto another street, less busy, and Mestor had them heading to the left, deeper into a residential area of the great city.
“My understanding is you were in love with two women.”
Ampheres shook his head, the memories flooding back, the shame and h
urt of it all something he hadn’t thought about in years. “Mestor, I’ll give you a free piece of advice.”
Mestor’s eyebrows rose. “What?”
“Never fall in love with your mentor’s daughter, then fall for her friend. It can never end well.”
Mestor grunted. “Trust me, I’m not that stupid.”
Ampheres laughed. “I was considered one of the brightest to ever come out of the university, yet I still messed things up. The heart and mind are two different things, and unfortunately, you can only educate one of them. I broke a woman’s heart that I loved, I lost my mentor, and the path I thought had been laid out for me. Fortunately, Professor Gadeiros was a better man than me, and didn’t destroy my reputation as he could have. Instead, he merely cut me out of his life.”
Mestor pointed to a building to their right and they made a beeline for it. “Was it worth it?”
Ampheres nodded. “In the long run, absolutely. My wife was the other woman, and I now have three children. I followed a new path that has been rewarding.” The ground rumbled for a brief second and they both paused. “Unfortunately, I don’t think any of it will have mattered if we don’t leave this island.”
They reached a door and Mestor tapped out a pattern. “Well, fortunately for you, Professor Gadeiros has a plan.”
15
Pico Airport
Pico Island, Azores
Present Day
Interpol Agent Hugh Reading stepped onto the tarmac, no jetways servicing Pico Airport, and immediately felt the heat. He wasn’t a fan of it, though the steady breeze was taking the edge off nicely. His son grinned at him.
“This is perfect. Great idea, Pops.”
Reading stared at him for a moment, suppressing a frown.
Pops.
His son had taken to calling him that since he returned from Hendon Police College, where his training to become a police officer was proceeding nicely. He wasn’t a fan of the term, though at least it was said in a friendly manner. They had been estranged for years, ever since the divorce, but over the past couple of years, they had both made an effort, and were on the best terms he could remember. Spencer was turning into a fine young man, and Reading couldn’t be prouder that he had chosen to follow in his father’s footsteps.
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