Battle For Atlantis

by Robert Doherty

Martsen ran a hand across her chin. “That’s a hard question to answer because Rachel’s environment is so different from ours. First, she lives in water, while we live on land. Second, she doesn’t have hands so she really can’t manipulate her environment. Dolphins live in harmony with their world, unlike humans.”

  Something about what Martsen had just said struck · Dane as significant but before he could analyze it, Martsen continued.

  “The strange thing I’ve always wondered about dolphins is that they went in the opposite direction evolution-wise than we did. We came out of the water and stayed on land. Dolphins are mammals also, but sometime during their evolution they went back into the water.”

  Martsen had mentioned that before, Dane remembered. “Maybe, as you said, they did it to get away from us.”

  “It’s possible,” Martsen said.

  “Who is ‘we’?” Dane asked Martsen.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You said ‘we’ earlier,” Dane said. “I assume you don’t work alone.”

  “1 work at the Space and Naval Warfare Systems Center outside San Diego,” Martsen said.

  Dane sat down in one of the hard plastic chairs. “Why is it called that?”

  Martsen shrugged. “It’s had a lot of names over the years. The program with dolphins actually started in 1960 and was called the Marine Mammal Program. They started with one Pacific white-sided dolphin. At first. The primary goal was to test the animal under the auspices of hydrodynamic studies. Scientists at the time had heard accounts of incredible efficiency exhibited by dolphins; and since the navy had the task of developing better and faster torpedoes, it made sense to check out whatever special characteristics dolphins had that they might apply to their underwater missiles.”

  Dane could sense that Foreman considered this a waste of time, but Earhart and Ahana were focused on what Martsen was saying. He knew there was a thread here that needed to be pulled and followed-and at the end. He had a strong suspicion, there would be the Ones Before.

  ‘Unfortunately,” Martsen continued, “the first dolphin, named Notty, exhibited no unusual physiological or hydrodynamic capabilities. One of the scientists believed that was because of the restrictions of the long testing tank in which she was being held and tested in. The decision was made to move the testing to the ocean, the dolphin’s natural habitat. The facility moved to Point Mugu, California, where the Pacific Missile Range and Naval Missile Center was located.”

  “That’s odd,” Dane said. “Why move it to a missile test facility?”

  “It was on the water, and space was available:’ Martsen said. “ And a group of scientists in the Life Sciences Department of the Naval Missile Center was also in the process of studying underwater life. Including porpoises.”

  Dane wanted to ask why, but he decided to hold back.

  “Starting in 1963, the two groups of scientists began investigating and testing dolphins. In the beginning, their research was two pronged--to study how dolphin’s inherent systems and capabilities, such as sonar and deep diving, worked, and to see if dolphins could be used for various underwater tasks, especially ones that were dangerous for humans, such as detecting mines and planting explosives.

  “Their first major success came in 1965 when a bottle-nosed dolphin named Tuffy operated untethered near Sea Lab II, carrying tools and messages between the year the lab moved from Mugu to San Diego and study intensified.

  “That was when they began to try to figure out how the dolphin brain functioned, with the startling realization that as a mammal, its brain was not that much different from a human’s.”

  That caught everyone’s attention.

  “Neurophysiologic studies, using behavioral and noninvasive techniques were the first steps in this process. Bram-wave activity was charted, along with hearing tests and investigation into how dolphins made noise”--she tapped the computer--“That was when we first began to realize how they used sonar. A project originally called Quick Find, and later renamed under top-secret classification the Mark 5 Marine Mammal System, used dolphins to locate and attach hardware to inert ordnance.

  “They also continued research on dolphin hydrodynamics with the same goal: to determine if the dolphin possesses drag-reducing characteristics that can be applied to underwater hardware. The capabilities for undertaking this work are now greatly improved and include instrumentation for measurements that previously were impossible. Among the possible drag-reducing mechanisms being studied are skin compliance, biopolymer secretions, and boundary layer heating, which may work synergistically and in combination with other drag-reducing processes.

  “Other research used sophisticated psychophysical experiments to determine how dolphins process target echoes to make difficult detections and fine discriminations. This information was modeled to aid human sonar operators in identifying targets from clutter. When I came on board, my focus was on trying to understand their language, which most scientists in the field said they didn’t have. I’ve proven they do communicate.”

  “And what classified work is being done there’?” Dane asked.

  Martsen paused. “1 have a Q clearance, but--”

  “No ‘buts,’’’ Foreman stepped forward. He looked at · Dane. “What are you looking for?”

  “If the Ones Before are using dolphin high-frequency sonar to send the visions,” Dane said, “then we need to · know what else dolphins can be used for.” He looked at Martsen. “What are the space guys using dolphins for? You said the facility was called the Space and Naval Warfare Systems Center. I don’t see the connection.”

  Martsen pressed the tip of her fingers together. “Dolphins are capable of diving to depths of over six hundred meters for over fifteen minutes. Think of the pressure they can withstand and how long they can go without breathing.”

  “And they can do tasks,” Dane added.

  “Right,” Martsen affirmed.

  “And they can communicate,” Dane continued.

  Martsen simply nodded.

  “What are you getting at?” Foreman demanded.

  “They’re evaluating dolphins for space travel,” Dane made it a statement, not a question.

  ‘’They’re beyond that,” Martsen said, drawing everyone’s eyes to her. “Last year a dolphin went up on one of the shuttles in the cargo bay, inside a specially built water tank. It was a highly classified experiment.”

  “So they can function in space?” Dane asked.

  “It--the dolphin’s name is Proteus. And he’s still up there. In the International Space Station.”

  “Doing what?” Dane asked.

  “Being evaluated.”

  “For?”

  “Further missions.”

  Dane was getting irritated with Martsen’s brevity. “What’s planned?”

  “I’m not privy to that,” Martsen said.

  Vane stood. “We’re going to California.”

  “Why?” Foreman demanded.

  “To find out what the future holds,” Dane said.

  EARTH TIMELINE--VIII

  Washington, DC, Spring 1863

  Lincoln stared at the map spread over the desk in the Oval Office with mounting frustration while Secretary of War Stanton stood in front of the desk, shifting his feet nervously and with some degree of anger. The secretary of war did not like answering to a civilian, but even worse, he did not like having to accept that his generals had been failing quite miserably for quite a while now.

  The North and South had been at war for over two years, with no end to the horrible conflict in sight. Initially, the South had won several victories, including the two battles at Bull Run. Lincoln has claimed the bloody battle at Antietam as a victory, when in reality it had been a stalemate. However, Lincoln had been forced to seize on even a whiff of good news to issue the Emancipation Proclamation, which served the purpose of elevating the conflict to a higher moral level and kept the European powers, which had been leaning toward helping the South, on the sidelines, hamstrung b
y the moral issue of helping the side in favor of slavery.

  Despite this ethical and political victory, the Union de· feat at Fredericksburg followed shortly afterward. A battle report on top of the map revealed the most recent disaster, at Chancellorsville; just west of Fredericksburg where newly appointed General Hooker had tried to take the fight to Lee.

  “Fighting Joe,” Lincoln said.

  “Excuse me?” Secretary of War Stanton asked.

  “’Fighting Joe’ Hooker. That’s what you called him.” Lincoln slammed a fist on the desktop. “Where’s the fight? Where’s the attack? This”--he picked up the telegram--“says he’s retreating.”

  “He’s reconstituting--” Stanton began, but Lincoln cut him off.

  “I don’t care what word you use, General Lee of Virginia holds the field, does he not?” Lincoln read further and raised an eyebrow. “Stonewall Jackson’s dead?”

  Stanton nodded. “Yes, sir. By his own men. An accident.”

  “If only Lee would do us the same favor and get himself killed,” Lincoln mused. He leaned back in his high-backed chair. He’d offered Lee command of all Federal forces at the beginning of the war. Lee had politely declined, feeling his call of duty was stronger to Virginia than the United States. It made Lincoln question the effectiveness of the Military Academy at West Point given that so many of its graduates had chosen to · side with the Rebels. So much for duty, honor, and country.

  Secretly, Lincoln also often wondered if the war was dragging on because the vast majority of senior officers on both sides were graduates of the academy. Not only did they know each other but they had been taught the same things. Sometimes Lincoln thought of the war as a man fighting his own image in a mirror.

  He was the sixteenth president of the United States and many thought he would be the last. He was also an example of the uniqueness of America. There was no country in Europe where a man born in a log cabin could rise to such a high position. Sometimes Lincoln himself was amazed at the path he had taken to arrive in the White House.

  Lincoln’s childhood had been hard as he’d spent most of his time working. He had less than a year of formal education. He’d seen his father lose his farm in Kentucky due to confusion over land titles, and the family had been forced to move to Indiana with only what they could carry with them. They’d spent the winter of 1816 in a crude, three-sided shelter with a fire at the open end, giving meager warmth as they waited for spring when they could build another cabin. Two years later his mother died. The casualty lists from the battlefields appalled Lincoln but not as much as it did many from the East. He’d seen much death and suffering on the frontier, losing several siblings in childhood to various diseases that swept the frontier.

  As a young man he’d moved to Illinois and helped his father build another log cabin. Shortly after that’s he hired on a flatboat on the Mississippi taking a load of cargo to New Orleans. That was where he saw his first slave auction, something that affected him deeply. The following year, he ran for a seat in the Illinois House of Representatives. It did not seem a fortuitous decision at the time because a month after the announcement the store he was clerking at went out of business and Lincoln lost the election.

  Out of work, and just defeated, Lincoln eagerly signed up when the Illinois governor called for volunteers to put down a rebellion of Native Americans--the Fox--led by Chief Black Hawk. Lincoln enlisted as a private but was so well liked that he was elected captain of his company, a pretty common practice that continued to the present day in the current conflict at lower unit levels. Men preferred to serve under someone they respected and liked rather than some stranger thrust over their heads.

  Although Lincoln saw no action, he had always been proud of his time in uniform. From private to captain it was still a big jump to the White House. Lincoln became a postmaster next, a job that gave him a lot of time to read. It also allowed him to meet most of the people of his county and when he next ran for the Illinois legislature, he won. While serving he also began to study law on his own and eventually started his own practice.

  In 1840 he met and married Mary Todd, who foretold his future with uncanny accuracy. The previous night she had told him more of what she heard, and he knew she was right.

  It was raining outside and the atmosphere inside the Oval Office was dark and gloomy, befitting the report. Lincoln closed his eyes. “It’s coming, Stanton. Can’t you feel it?”

  “What’s coming, sir?”

  “The great battle.” Lincoln opened his eyes. “What does Fighting Joe Hooker plan on doing next?”

  Stanton waved a hand, indicating the report. “He doesn’t say. He’s on the north side of the Rappahannock.”

  “The more important question, I must reluctantly add,” Lincoln said, “is what does Lee plan?”

  “Hooker has him fixed--” Stanton cut short what he Was going to say at Lincoln’s snort of derision.

  “Hooker has nothing fixed. Lee is a ghost. Who knows · where he’ll pop up next?” Lincoln leaned forward and looked at the map. Washington and Richmond were not far apart. At least in miles. But in blood spilt over the last two years they might as well be a continent away. There were many in Washington who believed that Lee would one day show up outside the city with his army behind him. This despite the fact that there were thirty thousand troops with heavy artillery dug in deep, guarding the approaches into Washington, the most heavily fortified city in the world.

  Lincoln’s eyes went vacant. As if he were peering off in the distance at something only he could see. Stanton had seen the president do this before and knew a decision was coming.

  “He’s coming North,” Lincoln concluded, agreeing with what Mary had told him Ire previous evening. The logic of lee’s situation agreed with the voices she had heard.

  “Sir?”

  “Lee. He’ll be coming North again.”

  Stanton shook his head. “Mister President, that would leave Richmond exposed.”

  “Richmond isn’t the key,” Lincoln said. “The Army of Northern Virginia is. And Lee has no fear of Hooker attacking. Why should he7”--he glared at Stanton--“Try to find me a general who understands that Lee and his army is the key to winning this war, not Richmond.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As soon as Stanton was gone, Mary came in from the room on the left. She didn’t say a word, walking over to her husband and taking a position behind him. Lincoln leaned forward, placing his head on the desktop, too weary even to keep his body upright. A tic at his left temple jumped uncontrollably, He pressed his hands to either side of his skull, as if by doing so he could block something from entering his head. Mary put her hands on top of his.

  He saw the vision that invaded his mind from hers. Wave upon wave of men in gray charging forward into withering fire. Being mowed down with cannon and musket fire by the thousands.

  It appeared to be the start--or finish--of a Union victory, but Lincoln could feel from Mary that it was much more than that. For in the midst of the Confederates’ line was a case, and inside it were crystal skulls that began to glow blue and grew stronger as the carnage grew more deadly and the gray line forged forward into the hail of deadly fire.

  Lincoln moaned in agony. “If only this burden could be · taken from us,” he whispered. But he knew from Mary’s continued touch it was not to be. He felt another presence. He lifted his head and turning his chair looked at the windows. Across the garden and lawn there was a solitary, tall figure standing near the street, staring back at him. All Lincoln could make out was shiny black skin underneath a black, broad-brimmed hat and deep penetrating eyes. He realized with a start that the figure was an old woman.

  Lincoln blinked, and when he opened his eye once more, the woman was gone.

  “Did you see her?” Lincoln asked his wife.

  Mary nodded. “Yes. It was a vision. She wasn’t really there. She is another like me. One who can see. And she will be part of it when the time comes. In her time and her world.”


  Lincoln looked up at his wife. “I don’t understand this, Mary. Different worlds. Different times. This dark force you speak of, the Shadow, and its threat. The visions and voices. I’ve trusted you, but . . .” his voice trailed off.

  “I know it’s hard for you,” Mary said. “But this war was inevitable. You knew that when you were running for office. The battles are inevitable. You saw the numbers from Antietam. We used that battle for the Emancipation Proclamation. There will be more battles that we must use. Especially one. A great battle that is coming soon. I sent the vision to you just now. It’s a true one. Those men will die. But you can give it a greater reason also.”

  It still made no sense to Lincoln. It never did, no matter how much they talked about it. But he knew what she said was true as strongly as he knew his love for her was true. He would do what he could to make things happen in the way they must be. Whether the other players involved would do their part was something he could not control.

  EARTH TIMELINE—VIII

  Virginia, Spring 1863

  General Lee was ill. His stomach rumbled and beads of sweat dotted his high forehead just below the magnificent mane of white hair. His hand shook slightly as he ran it over the map, the gesture carefully watched by his three corps commanders.

  To his right was Longstreet, his war horse. “Old Pete,” Lee sometimes called him when they were alone. Solid, dependable. And steady in action. But unimaginative. And sometimes slow to the assault, preferring to dig in and hold the defensive if given the opportunity. But he had held the stone wall at the base of Marye’s Heights at Fredericksburg and taken the best the Union had to throw at him. He’d been a rock there, and without him, the day and battle would have been lost.

  And then next to Longstreet was the second corps commander, General A. P. Hill. A pragmatist who had been feuding with Stonewall Jackson for over a year. Two more opposite, yet capable men, one could not find. And now Jackson was dead. Along with approximately thirteen thousand of Lee’s men at Chancellorsville. While the North had suffered almost half again as many casualties, the Union could more easily afford losses. Another battle that led nowhere. A. P. Hill was steady but impetuous. Hill had begun the Seven Days’ offensive by attacking Union forces because he had grown bored sitting in his defensive positions. He had saved the day at Antietam with his forced march from Harpers Ferry and fortuitous arrival on the battlefield at the critical juncture.