Captain Marks is right.
The thought stole my breath and thundered through every bone in my body. A lead weight fell onto my shoulders. It rooted my words in my throat, unable to be spoken.
I looked around at all of the artifacts and books, and then again at the Amarna period piece, debating whether I should tell the Captain what I thought. Discoveries like this had a habit of changing the course of history. Like when archaeologists finally discovered the ruins of the city of Troy and discovered perhaps the story presented by Homer in his Iliad might have actually been true.
If my suspicions were correct, this find would do way more than change history.
It would rewrite it.
I swallowed hard, unable to make up my mind. To tell the Captain this room belonged to a long dead, assumed fictional city, would result in him either thinking I’m completely batshit crazy or, far worse, wanting to tell the world. But if you told the whole world Atlantis honest-to-god existed and ruins remained intact today, it’d open a large can of worms far beyond what the United States Navy could handle.
Still, I couldn’t lie to the man who hired me instead of throwing me into the Brig. The Captain bet on me to be able to do something like this, to take a find and figure it out. I owed him. Even if it meant dumping Atlantis on his plate.
“Captain, I think this is something worth keeping quiet about for now,” I reiterated, hoping he’d catch the implication so I wouldn’t have to say Atlantis out loud. If this was related to Atlantis, the amount of wraps this would have to be kept under would surpass the sad attempt at keeping Area 51 on the down-low. Alien hunters had nothing on treasure hunters, that’d been proven time and time again.
The Captain shot me a meaningful look. “Is this what we thought?”
I nodded. “Maybe. We’ll have to catalogue everything to be sure.” I left out how the task would take longer than my internship would last for. In fact, this was way above me. “Captain, I think you need to bring someone else in. This isn’t the kind of find you want to leave to an intern with a BA in Archaeology.” When he hired me, he banked on shipwrecks or random amphorae, not possibly Atlantis.
Captain Marks nodded slowly. “My thoughts exactly. I’ll have to speak with Admiral Dennett.” His breath hitched, strained, against his words. He turned to the pool where we’d entered, a barely visible tremor wracking his hands.
He was panicking? In his position, with the possibility of hordes of treasure hunters bearing down on our position if this got out, I’d freak out, too.
Though, really, I already was.
Trevor
knew exactly what SeaSat5 found. The recognition was instantaneous. A building in the middle of the Sargasso Sea—what else could these ruins be?
Then they called in Chelsea, like she had the answers. Like she was an expert on Atlantis. The Captain knew, though. The realization in his eyes, the indecision over what to do mixing with his own pride for finding the city, swirled together like a violent, jade gyre.
It wasn’t Atlantis, but it was Atlantean.
It wasn’t a city. It was an outpost, a lab, an archive.
It wasn’t a museum, but a laboratory of all the things my parents told me bedtime stories about.
My chest constricted like I stood in a vice grip as I watched Chelsea pick up the Egyptian relief. Was it Link Piece? Assuming Helen’s guesses about Chelsea were correct, I’d bet my head it was. A tiny old time travelling device just sitting there in Chelsea’s hands, her none the wiser.
Shit. Did Valerie know about this? How long until she did?
Her words rung in my ears. If any other powers show up on this ship. Valerie didn’t count Chelsea’s strength. She’d definitely count this, not as a power but as a development toward war.
Chelsea continued making her deductions, and the others gawked at the artifacts, all oblivious to my anxiety. I turned away. If I told Thompson, he’d show up here in mere hours and cause hell to get the Pieces. But if I didn’t…
I pulled in a deep, shaky breath. We’d finally become a pawn in their war.
“Trevor?” Chelsea called.
I turned to her with a fake grin fixed to my face. They didn’t even know the weight of what they’d found, so giddy about something so dire. Would Chelsea forgive me if she knew?
“You’re probably right,” I said.
A half-smile slide across her face like when she was excited beyond words. She blushed when she noticed me looking. Then her smile sank.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She frowned at the artifact in her hands as if told a bad joke. “I can’t decide if I’m excited or terrified. If we don’t protect this…” she trailed off, leaving the words unsaid.
The statement was truer than she knew. “We will,” I assured her. We had to. I had to. “I need to go to the station.”
Her frown deepened. “What for?”
“I want to get some notepads.” A swift lie. It ripped my guts apart, but I needed time to think. To decide how this all might play out.
Her eyes lit up. “Good idea. Can you bring me a camera, too?” She cocked her head like she didn’t want to burden me with the task, but I couldn’t see her leaving this place anytime soon. Kid in a candy store? The analogy was a severe understatement. Chelsea looked at everything with such an innocent wonder; it made me unable to believe she was Atlantean at all.
An Atlantean would know what she’d found.
An Atlantean would find the biggest, most secure vault in the world and lock it all up.
I brought Chelsea the camera and then paced around my room for an hour. Thompson would be here within days, maybe less. And when he got here, he’d take the artifacts, he’d take SeaSat5, and he’d take Chelsea. Use her. Keep her. She’d be lost to me and there was nothing I could do about it except not say anything first. And I wouldn’t. My lips were sealed tighter than my never-opened James Bond Golden Eye N64 game. I wouldn’t tell anyone. So, the only way Thompson would find out was from Valerie, and she absolutely would spill every last bean.
Someone pounded loud and unyielding on my door. “Open the hell up!”
Valerie. I banged my forehead against a wall. Maybe she didn’t know I was here.
“Now, Trevor,” she growled.
She barged through the moment I loosened the lock and strode to the far wall before turning around and slamming her hands onto her hips. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You know why, and it’s not like Chelsea even knows what she’s found. We can handle this; we can keep it safe. The find will still be in Lemurian hands, and the Atlanteans will never get it.”
She clamped her mouth shut, looked away, and breathed in deeply. “An Atlantean already has the artifacts, Trevor. I’m not screwing around anymore. I’m following orders.”
“Val—”
She held up a finger to stop me. “Don’t even. We should have ended this before today. That site your girlfriend is freaking out over is filled with artifacts. It’s a veritable tool shed.”
So Valerie thought Link Pieces littered the place. The way Chelsea looked at them all, maybe they did. “Not today. Please don’t report the find today.”
“Why the hell not?” she snapped, venom lacing every syllable.
Because this was Chelsea’s dream? Because she didn’t even know the power she held in her hands? “We have no reason to believe any of those artifacts are what Thompson’s and my mother’s crew are after.”
“We also have no reason to think the contrary.” She charged toward me. “Listen, Trevor. This is why we got assigned to SeaSatellite5. To covertly observe and report if anything was found. If even one of those stupid artifacts is a Link Piece, it’s over. The remaining Atlanteans will be here in days, and they’ll take Dr. Gordon and your girlfriend, too.”
My stomach somersaulted over itself, shrinking and spinning. “I’ll up the shield. Increase power output.” But Chelsea would be taken either way. The Atlanteans needed her. The Lemurians
want her kind killed.
Valerie shook her head. “The shield didn’t keep Chelsea out. Sure as hell won’t keep Thompson out, either. The shield never could.”
My eyes met hers. She had known all along. But had she never once called me out on my shield modifications until Chelsea arrived. Why?
“He won’t come,” I said.
“You’re in the absolute worst type of denial, Trevor. Get the hell over it.”
I ran my hands through my hair. I’d give anything for a moment alone to think. “Not today. Give me a day or two. Let me at least figure out a way to keep Chelsea from getting caught up in this, then you can do what you want.”
Valerie swallowed her conviction so hard, her throat convulsed. Her fists clenched at her hips. “Fine.” Detestation punctuated the word. “You have two days, because we’ve been good friends for so long. But, I swear to god, Trevor, if this goes south, our friendship won’t mean shit. I will not fail them.”
She stormed past me, knocking her shoulder against mine, and stomped out of my quarters.
I was so screwed.
I gave myself my own form of quarters confinement, not moving from where Valerie fled past me until my stomach rumbled. I hadn’t eaten in over nine hours. Or moved in four.
I shook out my shoulders and headed out for the Dining Decks, praying not to run into anyone. I couldn’t hide the way my chest constricted around every rib, or how my palms grew slicker by the second. If the Captain found out what Valerie and I actually got assigned here for, assuming they believed all the Lemuria crap, we’d be thrown off in seconds. SeaSat5 wouldn’t be protected and then there’d be no barrier between the artifacts and Thompson. Between Thompson and Chelsea.
I traveled to the Lift and through a food line on the Dining Decks in solitude, for which I was grateful. Most of the guys were at the outpost or on Bridge duty. With any luck, Valerie got involved in one of those things, too. Was Chelsea still over there?
After a few moments of deliberation, I gulped down a heaping plate of pasta and a soda, then rode the Lift to Chelsea’s quarters. I padded along to her door and looked through the opening at the top. She sat at her desk, Valerie nowhere in sight. All anxiety washed away in an instant.
Chelsea. Maybe she’d help me clear my head, help me figure out a way to keep her safe without me telling her anything.
I knocked on the door. She didn’t move. She hunched over her desk, reading, so I tried the door handle. It was unlocked. I grinned and snuck up behind her.
Mouth pressed against her ear, I whispered, “Whatcha reading?”
Chelsea jumped a foot into the air. She spun her chair and swatted at me. “That was mean!”
I raised my hands in defense. “I knocked.”
She huffed. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said, bending down to kiss her soft lips. The scent of her vanilla shampoo lingered in the air around us. She must have gotten back earlier than I thought. My thumb traced a lazy circle on her cheek. Was every part of her this soft? “What’s the book about?”
She turned her head into my palm. Her warm breath on my hand made me feel alive, like I could hold onto her forever if she let me. “It’s one of the texts from the outpost. I can’t understand it, but it’s still fun to look at.”
I shook my head. “You archaeologists.”
Her eyebrows rose. “And what do you do for fun again?”
My jaw slid open and then closed. “Touché.”
“What brought you here? Not that I’m not happy to see you.” Chelsea stood, and we moved to her bed.
I lay back and pulled her to me so her head rested on my chest. “Just checking in.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You don’t believe me?”
A wicked smile encompassed her face. “I don’t believe you came here without ulterior motives.”
I shrugged. “You were excited earlier, so I backed off to let you have your glory. I haven’t seen you since.”
“So, you missed me?”
“Of course.” She nestled closer to me. She was so small, lying there in my arms. “How’s it going over at the outpost?”
She blew out a breath that shifted her bangs. “It’s a lot. Captain Marks called in for a military archaeologist. Someone they can trust.”
I lifted a hand and twirled a lock of her hair around my fingers. Her hand rested on my abdomen. I let go of her hair and intertwined my fingers with hers.
“Hopefully they’ll find someone soon,” I said. Otherwise the forty-eight hours Valerie had given me to get Chelsea to safety would be up, and who knew what would happen next. There’s no way Chelsea would leave without a replacement archaeologist being here first.
She nodded. “I hope so. Guess we’ll see, won’t we?”
A chill ran through me as she untangled our fingers and leaned over me. Her lips began a slow dance with mine, turning slowly into something wild and fierce. I tangled my fingers in her hair, trying to hold her there for as long as possible.
The memory of our fleeting encounter in Boston grasped at my mind like a vice grip. How different would things have been if I’d managed to stay hidden from Lieutenant Weyland and the rest of the soldiers a little longer? If I’d accepted her invitation inside the Franklin, or met her before she exited into the alley?
Ah, hell, who was I kidding? Chelsea still would’ve teleported to me. The only way I could’ve made absolutely sure she’d never gotten wrapped up in this stupid war is if I’d never met her.
I squeezed my eyes closed. Gently, I pulled away, blinking hard at the burning in my eyes. I tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as my heart lodged in my throat. “I actually need to get back to Engineering. I just wanted to stop by to see how you were doing.”
I must’ve been doing a great job keeping my emotions hidden because Chelsea smiled. Her grin lit up her face in ways that left me feeling as if a battering ram had slammed into my gut.
“Never better. I can’t believe I almost didn’t want to take this gig. Seriously, being here with you, finding this site… it’s the best I’ve felt in a long time,” she replied.
My ribs felt like they were breaking, I placed a long kiss on her forehead, then stood from the bed. “Check in with you later?”
Chelsea nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
Forcing a smile, I left her room and casually walked to the Lift, in case she was watching. But the moment the Lift’s doors closed, my happiness, my hope to keep Chelsea safe and outside of this war, shattered.
The only way to protect Chelsea was to convince her to teleport off SeaSatellite5, forget about me, and never come back.
Chelsea
hrista picked me up at 6:30 a.m. sharp. I hiked my pack over a shoulder and followed her onto the Lift.
“We have a helper for today,” she said, arms filled with folders and binders. “Two, actually.”
“Who?”
“Trevor and Lieutenant James, but let’s enjoy company without the boys while we can.” She inclined her head. “How are things going with Dr. Gordon?”
Guess Dave’s wrist had been getting better fast if he was coming out to help.
“Good,” I answered honestly, smiling. “I figured out a new way to control my teleportation.” Connections mattered more than intense emotions, like the connection to my quarters, to Trevor, or to Helen’s office. I still had to figure out how to establish connections outside of constantly visiting a location, but it was still progress.
“I’m glad,” Christa said.
The Lift stopped, and we picked up a few lab techs on the science decks and continued downward.
“I can’t even imagine having that ability. Seems equal parts frustrating and convenient,” Christa said.
I nodded. “Yeah. I’m hoping I’ll get good enough at it, though, that I can drop back to Boston for band practice whenever I feel like it.”
“See, convenient. Also, I was thinking”—she tugged a file folder out o
f her stack—“that we could start those cuneiform lessons.”
Excitement bubbled in my throat, and I fought not to squeal like a thirteen-year-old girl. I flashed her a grin. “Seriously?”
Christa laughed and handed me the file. “Yes. I’ve seen it at the outpost, and I already promised I’d teach you, anyway. Figured you can help until Captain Marks gets a military archaeologist here.”
“You mean a real archaeologist,” I said dryly. I skimmed the paper containing an alphabet and other basics. Cuneiform basics.
“You’re a real archaeologist, Chelsea.”
“Okay, yeah, but I mean an experienced one. You know, with a PhD and publications and decades of field research.”
“This will launch you in that direction.”
I looked at her. “Atlantis? Yeah. Let me hand in evidence for a fabled lost city as my application for grad school. That’ll go over real well.”
She shrugged, smiling. “Just trying to help.”
The Lift dinged its arrival, and the doors opened to Shuttle Dock. Trevor and Dave stood in the middle, ready to leave. Dave still had a cast, heavy and blue, around his wrist, but he wore a smile so I assumed he was okay. Aside from the four of us, only one other officer remained to operate the doors and docking clamps.
Trevor had two coffees in hand and offered me one.
“Thanks,” I said, smiling at him.
“Anytime.” He brushed his lips quickly over mine. “Ready to head over?”
“Oh, yeah.”
We donned our gear and ambled to the outpost. This place, so filled with ancient artifacts and trinkets from all over the ancient world, places I’d only ever dreamed of being able to go, captivated me. It stole my breath every time I set foot on the marble floors. Every fresco, every relief, all the artworks and amphorae; it was hard to believe this place was actually real. But the saltwater outside the walls vibrated in my bones, like it was a part of me as much as a cocoon for this building. It ripped away any doubt.
Gyre (Atlas Link Series Book 1) Page 14