“Or strange? You remember you said you felt a little lightheaded?”
“Yes, and now that you mention it, it’s completely gone.”
“Sure, it is,” De Cremonese remarked. “Mine too. Did you also notice something about the light?”
Bishop squinted his eyes and thought for a second. “Well, I guess it was a very bright day?”
“It was an exceptionally bright day, and yet it wasn’t warm. It was even a bit chilly.”
De Cremonese searched his pockets. “Here.” He took a coaster from his pocket and handed it to Bishop.
“Heineken?” Bishop smirked.
De Cremonese turned the coaster over in Bishop’s hand. Bishop read, “‘Gravity, temperature, pressure, radiation, oxygen.’”
“The big five problems you need to overcome, should you terraform Mars. Gravity on Mars is about a third of Earth’s. Not something you can train for here, but that shouldn’t be the biggest problem. The temperature can be stabilized through terraforming, but the changes will always be much bigger than on Earth. The same goes for atmospheric pressure. Then there’s—”
“I get it,” Bishop interrupted him. “He’s experimenting with the tribes to see what effect terraforming the planet Mars will have on humans. That way, he’s testing if sustainable life is possible on Mars.”
“Hence the lightheadedness from low pressure, the bright light to see the effects of high UV radiation, etcetera.”
“But why the tribes?” Bishop asked.
De Cremonese sighed. “Maybe he’s also experimenting with their physicality? Maybe because the tribes are the least evolved, and the least susceptible to change?”
“Hmm.” Bishop plucked his chin.
“By the way, I also think I have an idea about the construction hall.” De Cremonese sounded cocky as he grabbed the wheel on the door and softly tried to turn it. Nothing happened.
Bishop pointed to a small sign above the door that read, ‘Exit Only.’
De Cremonese shrugged. “Had to try it.”
“And then, Father, what was your plan? To simply walk in?” Bishop shook his head. “What idea did you have about the construction hall?”
De Cremonese opened his mouth to speak but reconsidered when he noticed a man in the control room walking fast-paced toward the door. “We need to go fast.”
Bishop glanced through the porthole and noticed the man.
Both men now ran down the hallway to the other door. De Cremonese arrived first, and without seeing if there was anyone on the other side, he turned the wheel until the door sprung open. They swiftly moved through, closed the door behind them, and turned around and looked through the porthole. A man stepped out of the other room, walked toward them, and turned into the corridor they had come from.
Bishop sighed. “That was close.”
De Cremonese wiped the sweat from his forehead. “You think?”
“Let’s get out of here and see if we can find a somewhat less public place,” Bishop suggested. When De Cremonese nodded, Bishop started walking into yet another hallway. “Now, what was that about the construction hall?”
De Cremonese stopped. “Can I see your phone?”
Bishop searched his pockets, unlocked his phone and handed it to De Cremonese. “What do you need it for? I doubt we have any service in here.”
De Cremonese showed him the screen.
“As I said, no bars,” Bishop pointed out.
“I don’t need any bars. I only need some history.” He opened the GPS and touched the button that said ‘Coordinates-lat/long.’ “Just as I thought,” he said, bobbing his head furiously.
“What is it?”
“One point six seven eight,” he mumbled. “Just as I thought.”
“What?” Bishop sounded impatient.
“You remember me telling you about the rockets, about the location they were sent from?”
“You said they came from almost on top of the equator.”
“Yes. One point six seven eight latitudes to be exactly. We never found the longitude. Now, look here.” De Cremonese showed him the screen.
Bishop read, “One point six seven eight latitude, negative ninety-two point zero zero three longitude.” Bishop looked up, frowning. “But... so... this must also be—”
“Exactly,” De Cremonese said. “The location where the rockets to Mars were launched from. The construction hall that we saw on the screens must be an assembly hall for missiles.” De Cremonese handed the phone to Bishop.
“Indeed, an island of many mysteries,” Bishop confirmed as he started walking again. “But there are no rockets in the assembly hall, so where are they?”
“Probably one of three possibilities. There either aren’t any rockets left or they’re stored away. Or....” He paused for a moment. “They are already at their launch site.”
Bishop took a deep breath. After some hundred feet, the empty corridor took a right turn, then another right, before ending at another door.
“What now?” De Cremonese asked.
Bishop peered through the porthole. “It’s the assembly hall. It looks empty.”
De Cremonese stood next to him and peered through. “All right, it looks safe.”
Bishop took a step back and turned the wheel below the porthole. After a full turn, a soft clang indicated the door unlocked. De Cremonese helped him pull the door open, and together they stepped onto a stainless-steel catwalk overlooking the empty construction hall. The catwalk hung about halfway along the massive wall, with staircases leading all the way down.
“It’s even bigger in person,” De Cremonese said. “It must be over three hundred feet high.” He pointed to the metal ceiling. “What now?”
“I think we need to get down.” Bishop pointed at the floor where large glass cubicles all along the sides of the assembly hall seemed to function as offices.
“Looks empty,” De Cremonese pointed out.
“All the better for us,” Bishop agreed as he descended. Though they tried to walk as softly as possible, the sound of their soles clanging against the metal echoed throughout the hall with every step. Bishop stopped for a second to see if the noise had alarmed anyone, but the floor stayed empty.
“So far, so good,” De Cremonese whispered.
Another catwalk appeared about halfway down the stairs. Breathing heavily, they paused.
“I thought walking down stairs would be easier than going up,” Bishop said, catching his breath.
“It is. It’s mainly harsh on the knees,” De Cremonese replied.
With a loud clang, a door behind them on the catwalk opened. Both men instantly held their breath and looked around. There was no place to hide. The door opened a few inches.
“Pssst,” a voice sounded from the other side of it.
Bishop and De Cremonese looked at each other.
“Pssssssst.” It sounded longer this time, followed by an arm that, extending through the open door, waved them to come over.
“What do you want to do?” De Cremonese asked.
Bishop took another deep breath. “It’s not the reception I anticipated, but maybe we should check it out?”
“All right. You go first,” De Cremonese agreed.
Bishop smiled at him, and slowly walked to the door, closely followed by De Cremonese. A few feet away, the door swung open, but in the darkness behind it, Bishop couldn’t see anything. They cautiously stepped inside, and the door closed behind them with a bang. Then the light in the room came on.
“You?” Bishop spoke loudly.
The man put a finger to his mouth. “Shush.”
Bishop shook his head. “How? Why? What the hell are you doing here?” he asked as De Cremonese tapped him on the shoulder. “Oh yeah, sorry. Father, this is Nigel... uh, something.”
“Nigel Small-Fawcett,” the man answered in his crisp British accent.
Bishop couldn’t help notice the man didn’t sweat any longer and sounded a lot more confident. “Yes, on loan from t
he British consulate if I recall correctly. We met briefly in Indonesia, on Java Island. What the hell are you doing here?” Bishop gazed at the man now dressed in jeans. His turtleneck revealed a small but muscled torso. Even his voice sounded an octave lower now.
“I’ll explain later,” Fawcett stated. “But first, we need to get out of here.”
Bishop, frowning, took a step back.
“Seriously, it’s not safe here. Trust me. Give me just a few minutes, and you’ll understand everything. I promise.” He pointed to a door on the other side of the room.
Bishop looked at De Cremonese. “What do you think?”
De Cremonese shrugged.
“Go.” Bishop pointed at the door.
Fawcett opened the door on the other side and took a right into another concrete corridor. “This way,” he commanded.
“What is it?” De Cremonese asked as he noticed Bishop staring at Fawcett.
“Uh, nothing much,” Bishop whispered. “It’s just that when I met this man in Indonesia, he was just a tiny, stammering insecure man. Now he looks like some kind of uh, well, I don’t know. I almost didn’t recognize him.”
“Is that a bad thing?” De Cremonese asked.
“I don’t know. Let’s follow him and see.”
Fawcett turned again into another hallway that, after a minute or so, ended at a stairwell. A spiral staircase took them down to a door with a sign above it that read, ‘Ground floor.’
“Don’t let the sign fool you,” Fawcett warned. “You’re actually about three hundred feet below the surface at the lowest level of the structure.” He opened the door, and on the other side of a short corridor, a sign above an open door read, ‘Crew quarters.’ They walked through it, and after passing another few doors, they stopped at the door labeled ‘11.’ Fawcett banged on the door. There was a clang, followed by a screeching sound, and the door opened.
Fawcett stepped aside.
Bishop’s mouth opened wide, speechless.
“Hello, professor,” Jennifer said, smiling brightly, extending her arms.
Chapter 34 – Lemuria
Bishop, frozen in place, slowly closed his mouth.
“Father.” Jennifer gave a tiny bow in De Cremonese’s direction.
“I suggest we get all in,” Fawcett advised as he took Bishop and De Cremonese by the shoulders and pushed them into the room.
Bishop accepted Jennifer’s invitation and stepped into her arms.
Holding her tight, he spoke into her ear. “How are you? What the hell happened? What’s going on here?” He took her by the shoulders, held her in front of him and stared at her face. ”Damn, it’s good to see you. You’re in good health?”
“I am, and it’s good to see you too, professor,” Jennifer said with watery eyes. “It’s good to see you too, Father.” She shook De Cremonese’s hand. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions. Please sit down for a moment.” She pointed to two seats at a desk. She sat down on the bed, Fawcett sitting down next to her. “I’m so glad you’re here. You have no idea how much I doubted whether you’d find any of my clues. Fortunately, Nigel here told me he met you in Indonesia where you were looking for the Dubois dig. Then I knew for sure you were on the right track.”
“You knew where Jennifer was all the time?” De Cremonese asked Fawcett.
“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” Bishop asked.
“I didn’t even know about her existence the first time we met,” Fawcett answered. “I’m with British Intelligence and was working undercover with Eldin Mulder, whose trust I more or less gained. He ordered me to keep an eye on you at that time. So I had some friends of mine follow you on your trips and keep me updated. Now, listen, I’m thrilled to explain everything in great detail at a later time, but I think we better first plan our next step.”
“And what’s that?” Bishop asked.
“Does anyone know you’re here?” Fawcett asked.
“Friends of ours are on Santa Cruz,” Bishop answered. “They’re with Mulder’s assistant who showed us the way here. They know we’re on the island, but I’m not sure what they know about this secret location, or what’s going on here.”
“So no one is coming?” Jennifer asked.
Bishop and De Cremonese shook their heads.
“How did you know we were here?” De Cremonese asked.
Fawcett walked up to the window and tapped the lower right corner. The view over the island instantly changed to that of a security camera menu with big colored icons showing options like ‘General feed,’ ‘Field,’ ‘Park,’ ‘Site,’ and ‘Entrance.’ He pressed the last one. On the screen, an eight by four multi-camera view of the entrance and main objects inside the structure appeared. Fawcett put a finger on the display and swiped left. The image began to rewind. After a few seconds, Bishop and De Cremonese appeared on the screen, seen entering the building, carefully probing the walls. Nigel removed his finger from the screen, and after a few seconds, the video feed changed to a live overview of the hallways and spaces.
“Nigel accidentally noticed you when you were looking for the entrance,” Jennifer explained. “From there, we followed you as you found your way inside the building. As soon as it was clear you were on your way to the assembly hall, we decided it was safe enough for Nigel to come pick you up.”
“Does anyone else know we’re here?” Bishop asked.
“We don’t think so,” Jennifer replied. “As soon as we noticed your arrival, Nigel changed the camera angles each time you neared a specific location. He’s kind of handy with that.”
“So we’re on our own,” Fawcett concluded.
“What are you doing here?” Bishop asked Jennifer as if suddenly awoken. “I mean, how did you get here and why?”
Jennifer grinned. “Jeez, of course. Well, that’s kind of a long story. What do you know?”
“I know you disappeared from the hospital after you collapsed during a lecture. Through friends of mine in the government, I found a clue in Peru, and from the father here, I know you worked with Eldin Mulder. But why? And why are you held against your will, and why is British Intelligence is involved?”
“Doctor Porter,” Fawcett interrupted. “All fair questions. But it seems—”
Suddenly, a loud alarm sounded, blaring through the room and from the hallways. On the screen, interchanging green and red lights lit the halls and larger spaces. Startled, everyone looked at the screen.
“Is that for us?” De Cremonese asked.
Fawcett gave the screen another close look. “No, it isn’t.”
“It started?” Jennifer asked.
“I believe so.” Fawcett’s face glistened with sweat. “Professor, I know you have a lot of questions and that you’re at a disadvantage regarding information. Still, I’d like to suggest we leave the questions and, for now, work together to attend to the more pressing matter of preventing the rockets from launching.”
“Rockets?” De Cremonese’s eyes widened.
“As far as we can tell, Mulder has multiple launches scheduled for today.”
“You don’t know for sure?” De Cremonese rose from his chair and grabbed Fawcett at the shoulder. “I thought you were his confidant.”
“Relax, Father.” Fawcett took De Cremonese’s hand from his shoulder. “Mulder isn’t a very trustful man. He only trusts the people around him with pieces of information, so no one has the complete picture.”
“And you didn’t inform your government or the local government? Police perhaps?” Bishop asked.
“There’s no outside communication,” Jenifer answered. “Believe me, we tried. Mulder has the only working satellite phone on the island, and there’s no email or Internet.”
“And simply escape?” De Cremonese asked. “There doesn’t seem to be much of any security.”
“And then?” Fawcett shrugged. “You must have seen it yourself. The nearest inhabited island is still sixty miles away. That’s quite a swim. Now, if you’re finished questioni
ng us for now, maybe this is a good time to do what you came here to do.”
“To be honest,” Bishop said. “I came here to get Jennifer, and I think I’ve succeeded at that. So maybe I just want to find a way back to the helicopter, off this island and take you home.” He turned to Jennifer.
“But that’s not what I want to do, Matthew. Mulder is using and holding a lot of people against their will. I’m sure that’s not what you want to hear. If I know you just a little, you’re curious enough to want to see for yourself what, exactly, he’s up to.”
“I’m with you,” De Cremonese stated.
Bishop thought for a short moment. “You know what you’re planning isn’t safe?”
Jennifer nodded.
Bishop sighed. “All right then. Let’s find the man and see what we can do, but if there’s any shooting, we run. Agreed?” He looked around the room.
“There are no guns on the island,” Fawcett replied. “Mulder hates guns.”
“What kind of criminal hates guns?” Bishop asked. “All right, what’s the plan?”
Fawcett tapped the screen again, and the multi-camera view to the entrance of the structure reappeared. He swiped right over the screen, back to the menu. “Wait,” Jennifer called out. “Go back.”
“What?” Fawcett asked.
“Go back to the images of the entrance.”
Fawcett swiped left again. “What is it? Did you see something?”
Jennifer rose from the bed and walked to the screen. She meticulously checked the thirty-two small screens, row by row. “There,” she pointed about halfway on a screen.
Fawcett touched the small window and it immediately enlarged to full screen. On the screen, six people—four of them in what looked like military or police uniforms—scoured the hallways. As they turned a corner, they disappeared from view.
“Stay with them,” Jennifer ordered.
“Who are they?” De Cremonese asked.
Fawcett worked the screen with both hands. In a few seconds, he found the small group of people again and tagged them. “The AI will now keep the view in sync with them.” On the left side of the screen, the group stayed in camera view as they moved further into the structure. “And to answer your question, I have no idea who they are.” On the right side, several smaller images appeared, crowded with people roaming hallways and spaces. “You see, a number identifies everyone known to the system.” He pointed to a yellow number ‘floating’ above everyone’s head.
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