by Nick Thacker
“I have seen a geothermal plant. This is one. See how it continues down, below the station? It is built into the crust itself, and is therefore more efficient.”
Mark and Carter saw what Erik was talking about. The plant they were looking at was shaped like a cone, upside-down, with the point of it pointing straight downward.
“This is incorrect, though. It is not useful to build one with a point like this. It makes no sense.”
“Well, I’m sure they knew what they were doing,” Mark said.
“They did, but I am not sure that the builders intended this machine to be used explicitly for energy production, at least in the traditional sense. I studied for a semester at a geothermal power plant in Siberia. A traditional plant will essentially have one pipe that carries water or steam up into the plant and another that injects the water back underground.”
“What’s the point?” Mark asked. “Maybe this one’s more powerful?”
“A larger pipe doesn’t necessarily lead to more energy withdrawal. Further, this is a completely different design. It almost looks like a corkscrew. I cannot believe it is simply a larger version of a geothermal power plant.”
“Okay,” Carter interrupted. “Impressive. But what does Nouvelle Terre want with it?”
Erik opened his mouth to offer an answer to Carter’s question, but a man’s voice yelled from outside. “Carter! Move out—we’ve got company!”
CHAPTER 24
DR. PAVAN HAD SPENT THE last five years of his professional life on the lecture circuit. He wasn’t able to pull down the same amount of money as a guru motivational speaker, but in his field—marine archeology—there was enough grant money floating around that enough of it seemed to come his way.
During his tenure at Dalhousie University in Nova Scotia, he’d taught a total of three classes—graduate Archeological and Geological Oceanography, three semesters back-to-back—and spent the rest of his time traveling for guest lectures.
When he’d discovered a new form of marine plant life, a bacteria that thrived equally well in deepwater vents reaching temperatures of over five hundred degrees Fahrenheit as it did in the chilled waters surrounding them, he chose to write his paper, to the dismay of many of his esteemed peers, in the nonacademic vernacular.
Essentially, the paper was an article fit for the cover story of a Popular Science magazine. Not surprisingly, that magazine approached Dr. Pavan and offered him a hefty sum to write another article, this time “distilling the information to make it accessible to the common hobbyist.”
He complied, and soon found himself the author of multiple pieces of popular nonfiction in competing industry magazines, trade publications, and the guest of a few TV talk shows. His fame in the academic oceanography world soon grew, as did his monthly income and celebrity status.
When he was approached by Daniel Carter and his team, he wasn’t sure to what extent he’d be useful to the mission. There was the obvious need of scientific knowledge, but most of the details he’d received were vague or altogether completely unstated. His interest in the mysterious, unknown properties of the deep ocean were what finally tipped the scales. Aside from that, his publisher, who only knew that Dr. Pavan’s leave of absence would possibly end in a commercially-viable book, urged him to take the assignment.
So he was here, under five miles of ocean, walking around freely on a patch of dry ocean rock. His initial shock of the locale was quickly replaced by the sheer amount of research he’d be able to do.
His half group—Jen, Nelson, and himself—had been studying the rock outcroppings for almost an hour. Nelson wasn’t much help, and after fifteen minutes relegated himself to fiddling with his gun at the opposite side of the cavern. He and Jen continued their scientific banter.
“Do you think the scratches here are the same? They seem to have similar properties,” Jen said.
“I do. The substantive evidence we have here—albeit not much—seems to indicate that. What I do not understand, however, is why they are here.”
“Well we’re assuming they’re here for the same reason they’re all over Lindsay’s body?”
“Yes. But again, why? Why did they end up on this wall if they were attacking Lindsay? And if not, why did they end up on Lindsay?” Dr. Pavan asked.
“Again, let’s consider what we have,” Jen offered. “We know they exist in streaks of five parallel lines, each streak crisscrossing one another in seemingly random ways. Some of the streaks are made up of lines that are about an inch apart, while others are made up of lines that are much closer together.”
“Which would imply what?”
Nelson spoke from the other side of the room. “Seems obvious, don’t it? The lines are from hands, and the difference in the distances are because the hands are from different people.”
Dr. Pavan and Jen exchanged a glance.
“What is that supposed to mean, Mr. Nelson?”
Nelson let out a harumph, but answered the question. “Just what I said it did—no more, no less. Lindsay was attacked, and by more than one attacker. It’s a group, most likely, living in the caves or somewhere else in the station.”
“That much is obvious, Nelson,” Jen said. “Where else would they come from?”
“Where else would anyone come from?” he asked in return. “Look, all I’m saying is that you can ‘scientifically analyze’ these rocks all day, but I’m telling you—Lindsay was attacked, and by a group of something. My guess would be humans, judging by the height of the scratches on the wall, the lack of anything else resembling life we’ve found so far, and the severe amount of understaffing they’ve got here nowadays.”
Dr. Pavan didn’t like what the man was implying, but he had to admit he had a point. Jen’s raised eyebrows suggested she agreed. He sighed. “Okay, I didn’t think about the height of the scratches. They go from about seven feet above the floor of the cave to no less than two…” he stepped toward the wall and placed his open palm against one of the streaks, “meaning that they could indeed have been caused by a human.”
Jen looked back at Nelson. “What else do you assume about this situation? Anything that might help us out?”
“Yeah. Sure. Seems like we’re in over our heads if you ask me. But hell, I ain’t got a choice in the matter. I’m a loyal member of the team, you know?” He lifted the side of his mouth in a quirky grin. “Besides, I ain’t the brains behind this operation. You two are. I’m here to protect you. Lend a hand, keep you out of trouble, you know.”
“I feel better already,” Jen said.
Dr. Pavan found himself agreeing with the soldier. “I don’t know, Jen. He’s got a point. There aren’t any staff members or researchers still here other than Bingham, and we don’t even know where he is. Plus, he’s not exactly sane, if you ask me,” he said.
“You heard him yourself, Doctor. He’s the only remaining member of a team who left years ago. He probably stayed back to manually launch the sub and close the docking station.”
Dr. Pavan frowned. “Right. It all seems odd, though. Why did one member choose to stay behind?”
Nelson answered. “Probably didn’t. Shortest straw, or something.”
“I don’t think so. This doesn’t seem like the type of place where someone would want to be isolated for very long. I cannot imagine wanting to maintain all of the systems here alone.”
“Well,” Jen said, “I know there were labs and all kinds of research buildings on Level Four, not to mention what we might find on the other levels. Maybe we can meet up with Carter up there and figure more out?”
Nelson jumped up. “I’m in. I hate dark places, and this place has been giving me the creeps since we came in.”
Dr. Pavan thought for a moment. There wasn’t anything here they could do, especially since they’d exhausted their evidence. Their understanding so far was based on hypothesis, basic analysis—they had no equipment—and fantastical theories. “Sure. Let’s get to the main level, meet up with them, and—�
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A distant noise reverberated through the caves.
“Was that a gunshot?” Jen asked.
“Hard to tell, but with them bogies running around, I’d bet it was,” Nelson said. His gun lay in pieces on the ground, and when Jen swung her light around to Nelson’s body, Dr. Pavan saw the man assemble the rifle in what had to be record time. “Ready,” he said, clicking a magazine into place.
“Let’s get up there and have a look around,” Dr. Pavan said. He tried to stifle the fear that he felt creeping into his voice.
CHAPTER 25
CARTER DROPPED THE BINDER HE was holding, moved his gun around to the front of his body, and ran out the small door. He turned immediately to the right, stopped, and lifted his gun. “Get down!” The order was directed toward Mason and Saunders. The two soldiers dropped prone to the ground simultaneously, allowing Carter to fire a few shots over their heads. Mason twisted around and did the same.
Mark saw what they were firing at. A group of four black-clad military gunmen had positioned themselves about two hundred yards away, behind one of the fish hatchery buildings. They had yet to fire, but Mark knew that was soon to change.
He ducked behind Carter, but Carter ran to his teammates’ side. Erik stumbled out of the communications shed, dumbstruck, and Mark snapped into action. “Follow him,” he shouted, grabbing Erik’s arm and forcing him forward.
They ran to the others and hid against a long white wall, another in the sprawling fish hatchery compound.
Mark felt helpless as he stood behind the building with Erik and watched the three soldiers hold their position against the opposing force. Carter and Saunders yelled for him and Erik to follow them. Mason stayed to make sure none of the others were following, and together they ran alongside the hatchery building toward a group of round silos in the distance. As Mark saw where they were heading, he shouted forward to Carter.
“Don’t you think they’ll split and try to flank us? There were enough of them.”
Carter didn’t respond at first, until they reached the first of the three silos. There, he turned and answered. “You’re right, but we needed to get somewhere somewhat isolated, so we can see them coming.”
Mark knew he was right. The silos were along the side of the dome, bound on three sides by open fields and on the fourth by the rock wall. This side of the rock wall was not the same side they’d exited from before, but Mark knew from the map layout that there was another entrance into the cave system somewhere around here. He understood immediately the ingenuity of Carter’s decision. They couldn’t get back to the cave entrance near the housing district, as the enemy forces had cut them off. If they had to stay and fight, they were at least in a somewhat defensible position now, but they also had the option of retreating to the caves as a last resort.
Carter showed Mark his sidearm, a lightweight Glock, and asked if he knew how to use it.
“I’ve shot before,” Mark responded.
Carter explained to him how to turn the safety on and off, how to hold it, and then handed the gun to him. Saunders did the same with Erik, and then Carter gave them all a brief overview of the plan.
“These guys are most likely going to split up, flanking us from the sides. We still don’t know who they are, but they’re definitely military trained. Probably mercenaries or private. Keep your eyes open and be ready to move.”
As soon as he delivered the order, Mason shouted from the right side. “Boss, I’ve got eyes on. Two o’clock, behind the last hatchery building. They definitely know we’re here.”
“Right. Engage. Saunders, get this left side with me. Let’s see if the other half of them are coming around too.”
Mason waited a moment to get a better shot, then fired off three rounds in succession. A black-clad soldier on his knees fell forward and lay still on the ground next to the hatchery building. Just as quickly, another soldier took his place and fired back. Mark tried to move next to Mason to help out, but the larger man pushed him back. “You’re in the line of fire. Just stay on my six and don’t let anyone get behind us.”
Mark looked over to Erik and saw that he was having even more trouble being useful. He and Saunders were at the other of the round silo, but Erik wasn’t even looking around the edge of the structure. Instead, he was crouched on the ground, covering his ears. Must be a little skittish, Mark thought.
Saunders wasn’t firing her weapon, so he assumed the only enemy contact they’d had so far was on their side of the silo. Still, he knew they wouldn’t all gather on one side of the building, waiting in line to be shot at.
He looked up and tried to spot Carter. He found him looking toward the caves behind the silos. The man had fallen back even farther, trying to cover an approach from the rear. He considered trying to run over to him, but knew he’d be considered dead weight in the middle of an attack.
Mason yelled beside him. “I’m hit!”
Mark looked over just as the man fell backwards on the dirt. His body swiveled around as he landed, his feet falling toward Mark. Mark saw that the bullet had hit Mason’s right arm and reached down to help him up. He first grabbed the man’s gun, as Mason had dropped it beside him as he fell.
“Come on, we can get that patched up,” Mark said. Mason’s left hand was covering the wound, and his face was contorted in pain, but both knew the wound was far from fatal.
Saunders shouted over at them. “Mason, get back! They’re moving in!”
Mark looked again and noticed what she was yelling about. Mason’s head was exposed, lying past the edge of the silo. Mark reached down to pull on Mason’s legs and pull him out of the way. “Mason, I need to get you back out of the way—”
It was too late. Mark heard one shot of a distant rifle—unique in the cacophony of all the others—before he realized that it had found its mark. Mason’s eyes bulged open, then his entire body got very still. It was a quick death, but to Mark it was stunning, absolute. He fell back, sitting on the ground now. He punched his fist hard into the dirt.
Out of nowhere, Carter was there. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice short and gruff. Mark stood, briefly locked eyes with Erik, and the two followed Saunders and Carter back to the two other silos.
“Should, uh, shouldn’t we get Mason?” Mark asked when they’d reached the open expanse between the back silo and the rock wall.
“Can’t do anything for him now,” Carter said. Mark took this in, then looked up at the others. Only Saunders was looking—glaring—at him.
“We’re going back to the caves. We can defend our position better from there,” Carter said. “On my count.”
But the count never came. Instead, Mark felt a whoosh next to his head, and he instinctively dropped to the ground just as the bullet’s sound caught up to him. They’re already here. The others hit the ground as well—Erik lying prone, Carter and Saunders crouching on a knee.
“Ok, get to the caves,” Carter said, his voice raised to carry over the rising sound of gunfire. “Move! I’ll cover!”
Saunders and Erik immediately sprang into action; Saunders stood quickly, fired, and then sprinted toward the cavern opening. Erik ran a few steps behind, his speed almost matching Saunders’.
Mark waited to see what Carter needed, but the man was already engaging in return fire. Carter yelled again for him to move, but Mark could barely hear him over the sound of automatic weapons, their explosions reverberating and bouncing through the trio of silos and bouncing back off of the rock wall.
Mark had the pistol and Mason’s rifle, but he wasn’t sure how Carter would react if Mark began firing at the oncoming forces. He decided he’d risk it.
“Hold on, I got your back,” he shouted at Carter as he strode alongside him. Carter was kneeling on the ground, so Mark stood, using the silo’s wall as cover for his left side.
Carter just gave a curt nod as he continued holding the others at bay. Mark’s shots were generally too high to be of any use, but the racket of two men, instead of on
e, firing back at the enemy seemed to hold them behind the first silo.
It was then that Mark realized they weren’t holding them back. Instead, they were holding only two of the ten or so soldiers behind the silo. As he fired toward them, he realized it was the same two men firing back at him. Further still, their shots were consistently wide, missing both him and Carter. The distance between them was considerable, but it certainly wasn’t enough for trained men to fret over. They’re missing on purpose, Mark thought.
Carter was thinking the same thing. “There are only two behind that silo. Do you see the others?”
Mark was about to respond when Carter’s magazine clicked. He emptied his and reached for another, then turned to get back behind the cover of the building.
Suddenly an explosion rocked them. It was far away, but close enough to shake the ground they were standing on. Mark felt his body pushed forcefully against the silo’s wall from the blast. It subsided quickly, and he turned to look at Carter.
“What is it?” Mark asked, watching Carter out of the corner of his eye. He took a brief moment to glance back, and followed Carter’s stare.
There, behind them, was a group of soldiers. All armed, and all staring at Carter and Mark.
Each was dressed in black fatigues, but Mark couldn’t see any insignia on their uniforms. They carried assault rifles, and each wore a black skull cap over their heads.
One of them stepped forward and motioned with his gun. Somehow Carter understood the simple command. He dropped the magazine on the ground, set his gun down, and stood. Mark followed suit, raising his hands over his head.
Another soldier was jogging back to the group. Behind him, Mark could see a large cloud of smoke billowing from the cave opening. The opening Saunders and Erik had entered less than fifteen seconds ago.