Dr. Elizabeth appeared emotionally drained upon finishing this strange discourse. And as she sat back in her chair, she let go of Mimi’s hand and momentarily closed her eyes. Beside her, Mimi’s tear-filled gaze centered itself on the crashing surf. With all her hopes of ever again seeing her husband alive completely dashed, she contemplated the mystifying tale that she had just heard.
Once again, she found herself torn in two. Her rational side remained totally skeptical of mystical lost continents and crystal capstones that could magically convey one to the ends of the universe. But how could she account for the psychic’s knowledge of the family gram This puzzling question, and her genuine trust and fondness for her host, overrode her inherent skepticism, and shaped the course of Mimi’s response.
“Dr. Elizabeth, is it possible for you to recontact my husband?”
The psychic’s voice seemed lacking its usual high energy edge as she answered.
“Now that he’s settled in his new home, that would be very difficult, my dear.
Our best chance for success would be to time this effort to coincide with the capstone’s next activation.”
“And when’s that?” asked Mimi as she turned away from the sea to meet her host’s warm smile.
“Hon, you really are a trouper, aren’t you? I like that kind of spirit in a person, and I sure don’t want to disappoint you. So, I’ll tell ya what we can do, to guarantee success in contacting your Dutch. As fate would have it, our next window of opportunity is less than a week away, during the upcoming autumnal equinox.
And to insure that my call to the entity gets through, I think it’s best that we go right to the source. If you don’t mind pickin’ up the tab, a little trip to the Bahamas is just what the ole doc here needs so as to insure that our efforts aren’t wasted.”
9
To get the day started off properly, Lisa Tanner made certain to prepare a hearty breakfast. Back in New Zealand, this was a custom that her mother had passed on to her, and Lisa took it most seriously. Today’s menu was no exception. She started off with thick Cream of Wheat. Then she served grapefruit sections and prunes, followed by blueberry waffles, bacon, and piping hot Irish breakfast tea, flavored with milk and honey.
Though space inside Starfish House was at a minimum, the designers had wisely paid special attention to the kitchen. Lisa had lived on her share of boats in the past, and her current galley was more than adequate.
And how many kitchens could offer the spectacular view that she currently enjoyed?
As she stood by the sink, scrubbing clean the morning’s pots and pans, she was able to gaze from a strategically placed porthole and catch sight of the many fascinating creatures that made the surrounding reef their home. Earlier in the morning, she spotted a family of brightly colored angel fish, several red-skinned snappers, a squirrel fish, and even a passing moray eel.
Presently, her visitor was a familiar, six-foot-plus, narrow-bodied creature with large eyes, and a huge gaping jaw, that displayed a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth.
The barracuda, called Uncle Albert, seemed to know precisely when mealtime was over and the table scraps were to be gathered. The alert fish had initiated its unrelenting patrol just as Lisa began her cleanup.
And back and forth it continuously swam, only inches from the kitchen porthole.
“That was a delicious breakfast, mon amie,” commented Pierre Lenclud behind her, in his deep voice.
As the Frenchman placed his plate in the sink, his gaze was also drawn to the porthole and their waterborne visitor.
“You’d better do something about your friend out there. Lisa, before it goes and takes its frustrations out on one of us.”
“Uncle Albert can sure be a real pest sometimes,” she observed while gathering the remaining table scraps into a bowl.
“But I guess that’s the price we’ve got to pay to have our very own living garbage disposal.”
“Back home in Rouen, where I grew up, we once had a pig that squealed its head off every evening after dinner.
The only way my father could shut it up was to throw it the leftovers. Mon amie, it’s funny how that technique never failed to do the trick.”
As Lisa picked up the bowl of scraps and turned for the ready room, Uige came flying into the kitchen and landed squarely on Lenclud’s shoulder. The parrot peered down at Lisa, and in its best squawking voice, vented its curiosity.
“Awk, where ya goin’? Where ya goin’?” “Come on, mon petit, “said Lenclud to Uige.
“Lisa’s got her work to do, as we have ours. For we have a date in the library to begin the supply requisition. You wouldn’t want me to forget to order your birdseed, would you, my fine feathered friend?”
Uige didn’t dare utter a word of protest, and Lenclud grinned and left Lisa with a warning.
“Don’t forget to watch those fingers out there, mon amie. This mission wouldn’t be the same without your culinary magic.”
Taking this as the compliment that it was meant to be. Lisa headed for the adjoining arm of Starfish House, where the diver’s ready room was located.
Ivana Petrov and Tomo were in the process of strapping on their scuba gear here, and Lisa barely paid them any attention as she put down the bowl of scraps and proceeded to zip off her coveralls. This revealed a lean, well-built body, covered by the briefest of bikinis.
She reached out for a mask, rubbed some spit into its inner glass plate, then dumped the contents of the bowl into a mesh net, and walked over to the open hatch.
“Thanks for feeding Uncle Albert before we started to look appetizing to him,” remarked the Russian, who was making final adjustments to her weight belt. “It’s too bad you’re the only one he’ll accept food from, or we’d save you from getting wet.”
“Actually, I sort of look forward to my morning dip,” said Lisa.
“Where are you two off to?”
“Tomo and I are headed for Habitat One to inventory supplies and do maintenance. Then while Tomo checks his aqua farm I’m going to see how Karl Ivar is doing with Misha.”
Lisa responded to this while climbing down the ladder.
“Please try to drag our hard-working Norwegian friend back for lunch. Dr. Petrov. He was up and out of here at the crack of dawn, long before I could even put the kettle on.”
Lisa took a deep breath, and initiated the short climb down into the warm, soothing water below.
With the net full of scraps firm in her grasp, she pulled herself up to the shark proof grill that protected the hatch, and struck one of the tubular steel bars several times with the net’s metal handle. This improvised chow call had immediate results. Uncle Albert came shooting over to the side of the grill, and Lisa wasted no time carefully emptying the contents of the net into the water before him. In a matter of seconds, the leftovers were history, and Lisa climbed back up through the hatch, barely winded.
“Can you imagine that ungrateful brute?” she said as she pulled herself out of the water and grabbed a towel.
“He didn’t even say thank you.”
This remark caused the two divers to laugh, and it was Ivana Petrov who led the way into the water.
“See you for lunch with Karl Ivar in tow. Comrade.”
Once Ivana was through the hatch, the barracuda was nowhere to be seen, and she felt a bit more relaxed as she floated beside the habitat and made some final adjustments to her equipment. Tomo soon joined her, and together they slowly made their way to the onion shaped dome positioned beside the similarly shaped, but larger hangar.
A collection of cables snaked out from the bottom hatch of this all-important structure. These life-support cables serviced both Starfish House and the hangar, and conveyed air, water, and power — all the vital elements that allowed the Mir habitat to be self-sufficient.