Ocean of Storms

by Christopher Mari

  Zell grunted. “Does it look like there’s a virus loose down there?”

  “We’ll know soon enough,” answered Donovan.

  Later that night, Soong snapped awake with a jerk. For a moment, she thought she was still trapped on the Moon and fumbled for her lantern. After a second, she got her whereabouts and decided to step out and stretch her legs.

  The night air was unseasonably cold, almost freezing. She wrapped her thick blanket more firmly around her shoulders and strolled over to the crater’s edge. The Moon was bathing the crater in a soft-white glow and giving a blue tint to the land. The night was alive with the sounds of birds and various other wildlife. If she concentrated just a bit, Soong could almost imagine that this was what the world looked like at the dawn of history. A sobering and comforting moment.

  She walked over to the fire, where Donovan was sitting and reading.

  “Can’t sleep?” she asked.

  Donovan looked up from his book. “I guess I’m still on lunar time.”

  She laughed. “Mind if I join you?”

  “Of course not.” He gestured. “Pull up a rock. There’s plenty.”

  Soong sat down, and the two took a moment in silence, enjoying the sounds of the night. After a moment, she spoke.

  “What are you reading?”

  Donovan looked down at the tattered paperback. “This? The Once and Future King.”

  “I hadn’t pegged you for a fantasy fan.”

  He laughed. “I’m not. It’s just, well, my father gave me this book when I was a kid. He used to read it to me a little at a time every night after dinner. Then, when things got bad, I had to finish it myself.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” he said. “The thing is, reading that book with him, hearing about Arthur and his knights, all of it—it took me to a different place. It was one of the only places I ever felt really safe. Except for archeology texts and history books, it’s the only book I’ve read more than once. I still read it, over and over again. Especially when I’ve got something on my mind.”

  “So what’s on your mind tonight?”

  Donovan thought a minute, then looked at her. “This dig, whatever we’re going to find. It’s gotten past the point of the discovery for me. Whatever’s down there, I already know we’ve made the find of a lifetime.”

  “Then why pursue it further?” she asked, moving slightly closer to him.

  “My dad spent his whole life in pursuit of something. And like that, it was taken away from him. Everything he had sacrificed for was gone. In the end he was buried in a small cemetery outside of town. It seemed to Dad that his whole life, everything—it didn’t have any meaning. And now it’s down to me. I’m here because of him. So I guess in some weird way, I’m hoping that this find, this ship, will give his life the meaning he felt it never had.”

  “Maybe the meaning in his life came from having you,” she said.

  “Any son would like to think that,” said Donovan. “But I know better.”

  He stirred the fire some more, lost in memory. “‘Wherever you go, there you are,’” he whispered.

  “What’s that?”

  “Something my dad used to say,” said Donovan. “He just meant that there’s a lot in life you can outrun, but you can’t outrun yourself. So you’d better find a way to make peace with who you are; otherwise life’s going to be a long damn journey.” Donovan looked off in the distance. “Good advice, even if he didn’t follow it himself.”

  Soong looked at him. “And have you?” she asked. “Made peace with yourself?”

  Donovan was quiet; then a small grin appeared. “Ask me tomorrow.”

  The next morning, everyone was up early and ready to go. Benny was buzzing around the campsite, clearing up whatever he could, and then began hacking away the beginnings of a path. The group worked in relative quiet, knowing what a long day they had in store. Donovan and Soong made no mention of the previous night’s conversation, but to everyone around them, they seemed much more at ease with each other. As the sun crept over the crater wall, Donovan clapped his hands together.

  “Okay, everyone!” he called. “We’ve got to get moving. We’ve got a two-thousand-foot descent to make. Benny! Put down the machete and shoulder your pack!”

  “Okay, Doc, okay,” Benny said. “Lemme just—”

  Benny never heard the shot. The bullet spun him like a top so violently that Donovan wasn’t certain where his friend got hit. All he saw was Benny crumple to the ground and roll out of sight.

  “Elias! Soong!” Donovan cried reflexively. “Get out of here!”

  Soong and Zell didn’t wait around to ask questions. The mission was too important. Gathering what they could, they left the clearing in a hurry. Donovan stayed a moment longer to check on Benny.

  The assassin emerged from the woods. “Don’t bother running,” he said to Donovan.

  In an instant, Donovan’s eyes caught a log still smoldering in the embers of last night’s fire. Almost by reflex, he kicked out his leg, catapulting ash and hot rocks into his attacker’s eyes. Miller screamed in anguish and rage, clawing at his face. Seeing his chance, Donovan turned around and bolted before promptly catching his foot on a root and hitting the ground with an unceremonious thud. By the time he had caught his wind, Miller had regained his composure and was moving toward him again.

  “You really, really shouldn’t have done that,” he said through clenched teeth. He unfurled a butterfly knife. “Now this is going to take some time.”

  The next sound Donovan heard took him a moment to process—a high-pitched chink mixed with a meaty thump of metal striking flesh and bone. His would-be killer’s eyes went wide with surprise. Then he tilted his head down to gaze at the machete now planted firmly in his foot. Blood spurted gaily, running in rivulets onto the ground. Miller looked at the hand on the machete’s grip, surprised to see that it was attached to the man he’d supposedly just killed, lying prostrate on the ground.

  Miller jumped back, shouting an indistinguishable word that sounded to Donovan like “Gaug!” and brandished his butterfly knife. Benny struggled to his feet and snapped into a fighting stance.

  “Run, Donovan!” Benny said.

  Although he hated leaving his friend, he knew he was right. After hesitating a moment longer, he ran from the clearing and down the crater wall. Benny turned to Miller.

  The hitman circled him, hobbling on his wounded foot. He lunged at Benny, but he telegraphed the move, and Benny sidestepped it easily. He countered with a left hook that crashed into Miller’s right cheek. The assassin stumbled back, momentarily dazed, then quickly regained his senses and launched back into the fray. Even with only half a foot, he was fast. His leg snapped out in a roundhouse kick that collided with Benny’s solar plexus, dropping him to his knees. Miller drew his gun.

  Donovan caught up with Zell and Soong a few yards down the wall.

  “I left him, Elias,” Donovan said, seething with rage. “He saved my life and I left him.”

  “You did what you had to do,” replied Zell. “If you had stayed, there’s a chance you’d be dead too. And the whole mission would come apart at the seams. Benny knew that.”

  Donovan was silent a moment; then he turned around. “No. I’m going to get him.”

  Zell had begun to protest when the sound of a gunshot startled him into silence.

  Chapter 21

  “I only clipped you the first time,” Miller said. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

  He racked the slide on his HK and pointed the barrel at Benny’s head. As he did, something stirred in the jungle off to his left. He jerked his head reflexively, only for a second. That was all the time Benny needed. With reflexes honed by years of training, his left hand darted to the sheath on his thigh and drew out his knife. In an instant, he twisted his body around and implanted the blade in Miller’s right kneecap up to the hilt. Miller’s shriek was high and impertinent, sounding more like an offended dinner gu
est than someone whose knee had just been maimed. He waved his arms wildly, discharging his gun into a nearby tree as he did. Benny stood up and eyed his opponent. He leveled one bone-crunching punch at Miller’s jaw, and the would-be killer knew no more. He slumped to the dirt and lay there almost peacefully.

  “Drop the knife, asshole.”

  Benny whipped around and saw a second man, dressed similarly to the one lying at his feet. Unlike his partner, this one had a cooler, almost passive disposition. His bald head and mirrored shades made Benny think of Mr. Clean turned rogue assassin. Benny noticed the USP in his hand and realized that things were about to go from bad to worse.

  “Hey!” a voice came from behind Benny. The assassin looked up with surprise.

  The hand axe whistled through the air with frightening intensity, striking the assassin in the chest with a thwack. The force of the blow drove him back at least three feet, and he came to rest underneath a fever tree, his eyes staring almost accusingly. Benny whirled around and was shocked to see Donovan coming up behind him.

  “Jesus!” he said with a combination of surprise and relief. “Where’d you come from?”

  “We heard the shot, and I had to do something,” Donovan said. “I should never have left you in the first place.”

  “Can’t say I disapprove of your choice. This one was fitting me for a zipper bag.”

  “Were you hit?”

  Benny tore open the side of his shirt, now soaked in blood. “Creased me on the side, but it’s just a flesh wound.” He grinned at Donovan. “Just like the movies.”

  Donovan looked at Sherwood’s body. “We’ll dress your wound when we meet up with the others.”

  Benny looked around the clearing. “We got lucky with these two. But there’s going to be more.”

  “We’ve wasted enough time as it is,” Donovan said. “Better get going.”

  “Roger that, boss,” Benny said, shouldering his bag and heading down the trail. He turned to Donovan. “Where’d you learn to throw an axe like that, anyway?”

  Donovan smiled. “The benefits of a partial Canadian upbringing. Before we moved to Modesto my family lived for a time up in Kitimat. I took first place in logger sports at the Skeena Valley Fall Fair two years running.”

  Three hours later the team had reached the bottom of the crater. They had said little to one another during their descent, primarily because they all had their own tasks to fulfill. As the only one with any combat experience, Benny agreed to take point and walked a dozen yards ahead of the others, his eyes on the lookout for an ambush, the gun taken from Miller ready at his side, his service sidearm in its holster as a backup. Soong and Zell followed next, occasionally calling out changes in their descent as they consulted their GPS devices. Donovan held up the rear, armed with a pistol dropped by one of their assailants.

  The descent had been difficult. It was a hot late-summer day, and the crater was thick with the season’s underbrush. Though hacking through the brush with their machetes was tiring, the group kept up a fairly steady pace and took little time to rest. Each of them felt they would be safer once they reached the ship. Sweat coated and burned Donovan’s face, now lacerated with scratches. Mosquitoes swarmed around them, on their necks and arms, in their ears and eyes. In a way Donovan was glad to have such annoyances. They kept his mind off the killers they had confronted and the look in Soong’s eyes when he and Benny told her what had happened to them.

  Donovan had killed a man. He was so concerned with reaching the ship and keeping them alive he had hardly stopped to consider what he had done. He knew it was in self-defense and realized that the hired gun would’ve killed Benny in another second, but he could scarcely imagine that he had just ended a man’s life. He wondered if Zell or Soong would make him talk about it—that is, if they got out of this crater alive. He didn’t want to. He didn’t see much of a point in such discussions. He suddenly felt a connection to his father, who must’ve killed untold numbers of people during his tour of duty as a pilot in Vietnam. He dimly wondered if his father had tried to blot out such thoughts every time he took a drink.

  For the first time in his life, Donovan found himself not wanting to be like his father.

  At the bottom of the crater, Zell called a halt and consulted his GPS tracker.

  “This looks like the place,” Zell said. He turned to Soong, showing her the coordinates. “You got the same thing?”

  Soong looked at her own tracker. “It looks like we’re up on the roof.”

  “Then let’s look for the goddamn chimney,” said Zell gruffly.

  With that, each of them took a direction and slowly began to search for the entrance to the cavern. After several minutes of chopping through underbrush, Benny called out, “I think I’ve found it!”

  The others rushed toward his voice. They found him on the edge of a clearing near a thicket of trees. Benny hardly noticed their approach; he was too busy tossing fallen tree branches aside, or at least what he had thought were fallen tree branches. Zell held one up and then another. Each of them had been cut down and placed there purposely. Donovan glanced down to see what the branches had been hiding—a rock pile some twenty-five by forty feet wide. Donovan tore at some of the grass beneath his feet. As he expected, hidden tire tracks were revealed.

  “Well,” said Benny, “looks like somebody didn’t want visitors.”

  Zell sighed and pushed his hair under his cap. “What do you suggest now, Dr. Donovan?”

  “We could blow it,” said Donovan, “if we had any charges. I suggest we find another way in.”

  “That could take hours,” protested Benny. “And with those spooks on our tail, I don’t think this is the time to take the scenic route.”

  “If you’ve got a better idea, Benevisto, now’s the time.”

  Soong reached into her backpack and pulled out what looked like a small car battery. She walked over to the cave entrance and sprayed the rock with some sort of resin. Soong then affixed the device to the boulder and stepped away, taking out what looked to be a cigarette lighter from the breast pocket of her shirt.

  Soong popped the top and clicked the button on the detonator. There was a high-pitched whine that reached a crescendo with a pop. Instantly, the rocks covering the cave entrance were pulverized to gravel. The three men looked at one another with admiration.

  “Dr. Soong, you are just full of surprises,” said Zell.

  The hole Soong had made in the rock was just wide enough for each of them to crawl through individually. Donovan agreed to go in first, to make sure that the cavern was safe enough for the others. He flicked on his flashlight and slipped through the opening. For about thirty feet or so, the opening was narrow enough that he had to walk sideways in order to pass through. He moved slowly, making sure to secure his footing on the incline before taking another step. After thirty feet the cavern suddenly opened up. Donovan flashed his light around the expanse and smiled.

  “Son of a bitch.”

  A few minutes later Donovan poked his head out of the cave, grinning broadly. “You’ve gotta see this!”

  The others gathered their packs and flashlights and followed Donovan inside. After clearing the first thirty feet, they found themselves inside a vast underground cave. Whoever had been down here before them had taken their time clearing and securing the dig site. A vaulted ceiling rose above their heads some forty or fifty feet, supported by massive I beams and trusses, which were riddled with catwalks, gantries, and ladders. The ceiling itself was rigged with the latest in halogen lighting. Off to one side near the entrance were several electric generators and an air purifier.

  As they advanced farther into the cave, they came across two long rows of workstations. Some computers remained intact and looked as if they were waiting for their users to come back from a coffee break. Other stations were completely empty, with the exception of a few charred pieces of paper littering the ground. Adjacent to the workstations were a number of rooms, including a common meeting area
, bathrooms with full showers, a kitchen, and several dormitory-style spaces with bunk beds, equipped to house roughly twenty people. Walking alongside the other bank of workstations, they found a machine shop, docking port, even a garage. An entire encampment placed underground and out of sight.

  “This place is like a beehive,” said Soong. “Some of these walkways stretch up to the ceiling.”

  “According to Badru,” Donovan said, flashing his light around, “they were down here for two years.”

  “Looks like they made the most of their time,” Benny mused.

  “Let’s just hope they left something for us,” said Zell. He shined his light on a bank of computers. “If these are still working, we should probably check them for backup files.”

  “Got it,” said Benny. “Let’s just hope they haven’t reformatted the hard drives.”

  “They’re nothing if not thorough,” Donovan said.

  Benny grimaced. “Yeah, and I’ve got the bullet hole to prove it.”

  “But we need power first,” Soong noted. “We can’t do any meaningful search without lights.”

  “I’ll head back to look at those generators,” Zell replied. “Care to give me a hand, Commander?”

  As Zell and Benny worked on the generator, Donovan and Soong ventured deeper into the chamber. Though their echoing voices had given some sense of just how vast this cavern was, the darkness surrounding them made it feel all the more immense. Donovan took Soong’s hand as they advanced past the ends of the two rows of workstations. Soong glanced back. The hole she had blasted through the rock had become nothing more than a speck of light. Just as they lost whatever ambient light they were receiving from the outside world, Donovan stopped in his tracks. Soong watched as his flashlight’s beam arched higher and higher about their heads. Thirty feet. Forty. Fifty. The cavern was even more immense in this location. Then Soong’s eyes finally pieced together what Donovan’s flashlight was revealing.