“All the gates are dangerous,” Nagoya noted. “Sacrifices have to be made in the name of progress.”
Ahana’s normally calm disposition gave way to an expression of shock, but if Nagoya noticed it, he said nothing.
Eric Dane stood on the platform that ringed the top of the derrick in the center of the ship, looking out past the Glomar Explorer below him to the open sea. There was a slight breeze, and the water was calm. The sun was coming up in the east, a glowing orange ball on the horizon foretelling good weather for the day.
The massive ship was idle in the middle of an empty sea. The huge derrick took up the entire center of the ship, towering over it. The Glomar had been built by Howard Hughes in 1973 ostensibly to mine the ocean floor for minerals. In reality, as Dane had learned, the ship was built for the CIA to try to recover the remains of a Russian submarine that sank in deep water under the code name Project Jennifer. The classified reason for this recovery was to get the cipher codes the sub used. Even that, though, was a cover story, Dane now knew.
The Russian submarine the Glomar went after had gone through the Devil’s Sea gate and disappeared for a week. What was on the other side of these gates was something Dane and others were still uncertain about, but there was no doubt there were very unfriendly forces over there in the form of the Shadow. To the consternation of those participating in Project Jennifer, they discovered that some of the nuclear weapons on board the Russian submarine were missing and, even more perplexing, they found bodies on board that were not Russian sailors. One was a Japanese man in his mid thirties, yet he had dental work that dated him to the beginning of the twentieth century. They also discovered that the Russians had sunk their own submarine when it reappeared.
Dane heard someone coming up the metal stairs, but he didn’t turn. He had sensed Ariana’s approach long before he heard her arrival. A new crew had been flown in by the Navy the previous day and pulled up Deeplab and the docked Deepflight. There was no sign of the original crew of the Glomar except for numerous blood trails, mainly centered around the well pool. More casualties to add to a list that was approaching a half million, Dane thought.
Iceland was now only a dozen or so active volcanoes poking above the surface of the North Atlantic. Puerto Rico was still trying to clean up the damage from the tsunami started by action coming out of the Bermuda Triangle gate that had slammed into its northern shore. The sub pens at Groton, Connecticut, were radioactive, and a large evacuation had taken place for miles around after the detonation of the nuclear power plant of the Scorpion. The attack submarine Seawolf was gone, with no trace of the wreckage, although the Navy was still looking for both it and the remains of the ballistic missile submarine Wyoming.
“Foreman wants us back in Washington,” Ariana Michelet said. “He says Nagoya has some interesting hypotheses about the nature of the gates he wants us to look at.” Ariana was a striking woman, the daughter of one of the richest men in the world. Dane had rescued her out of the Angkor gate after her research plane was brought down by the Shadow inside the gate.
“Can he keep them closed forever?” Dane asked.
“I don’t know. From what Foreman said — and he was being very guarded — Nagoya has an idea how the gates work.”
Dane didn’t turn. “Where are all the people?”
“What people?”
“From the ships and planes we saw in the graveyard? From Deeplab? From this ship?”
“On the other side,” Ariana said.
“And what does that mean?” Dane asked.
“We’ll have to go to Washington to see what Nagoya and Foreman have come up with,” Ariana said.
Dane shook his head. “The answer isn’t in Washington, and this isn’t over. All we did was repeat history. We stopped the gates, but they’ll expand again. Next time, I think we need to open the gates and take the war to the other side.”
Ariana placed a hand on Dane’s shoulder. Her father could be considered a modern-day Howard Hughes, one of the richest men in the world and the current owner of the Glomar. His covert relationship with Foreman, the CIA man who had been tracking the gates ever since losing his brother in one during World War II and watching Flight 19 disappear in the Bermuda Triangle gate in 1945, was an example of the devious way Foremen had had to operate for decades before the recent blatant attacks out of the gates had garnered the world’s attention.”
They stayed like that for a minute before she turned to go. “I’ll meet you at the helipad with Chelsea.”
Dane heard her go down the stairs. He stared out over the ocean, but what he was really seeing was a tall Viking warrior standing in the prow of his longship, a large ax in his hand. He remembered the message the Viking had etched into the side of the Scorpion.
“You will be revenged,” Dane whispered before following Ariana.
CHAPTER FIVE
The Oracle of Delphi had been in the Corycian Cave for six days, refusing food and drinking only the pure water brought to her from the Castilian Spring by her priestesses. She had not spoken a word in that time, and those who had traveled from near and far to Delphi to consult the oracle had been turned away. And there were many who had made the journey, as the portents were dark in many places. Even though Rome ruled the Mediterranean now, the influence of the Greeks and their beliefs was very strong. There were noble men and women from Rome waiting, even those from Persia and Kingdoms beyond the border of the empire. She had listened to the tales many brought before retiring to the cave, knowing that something serious was happening to the world. She isolated herself to listen to her inner voice, which could make contact with the gods.
On the morning of the seventh day, the oracle appeared at the mouth of the cave and spoke only two words to the priestess on duty: “The Defender.”
The young woman who climbed the path was covered with a thin sheen of sweat. Her tanned skin glistened, and her short red hair was plastered to the top of her skull. She wore a pair of cloth trousers and a tunic with no sleeves, a dagger stuck in her belt and a pack on her back. She had broad shoulders and was tall, towering over the priestesses escorting her. Her face had broad cheekbones and a sharp nose separating blue eyes. The priestesses paused at the entrance to the cave and indicated for her to go in alone.
She entered and paused just inside, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dimness. She saw the omphalos, the navel stone, deep blue in color, which sat in the center of the cave. On the other side, the oracle was on her stone throne, near the crevice that went to the very center of the Earth according to some.
“Priestess Kaia.” The old woman’s voice was very low but carried a sense of power.
Kaia knelt on the near side of the omphalos and bowed her head. “Yes, Oracle?”
The oracle tapped the stone of the throne. “I have been listening to the Earth and the gods. All your life you have been ready to take a journey, but I never told you why or where. I know where now, and I will tell you why.”
The oracle gestured for Kaia to sit. “I must tell you the truth, and then you must decide. You are a priestess, not like the girls who serve me here, but of the true bloodline. You are a Defender. You sense things others cannot and you have powers they cannot imagine. It is why you have been isolated all your life. You are my granddaughter.”