“Like what?”
“Well, natural disasters like earthquakes or volcanic eruptions. We can’t predict them, but the forces that govern those things are mechanistic. I told you about the Schroedinger’s Cat experiment right? That’s an example of alternate universes governed by randomness. But a lot of things are not random at all. The earth’s rotation, the phases of the moon, the tides; these things all happen the same way regardless of random variations. Or, if you believe in the multiverse hypothesis, those things happen the same way in all…well, most possible universes. That’s true of other things that we aren’t able to predict with certainty.
“We know, for example, that someday the Yellowstone super-volcano is going to blow. We don’t know what the tipping point is and there’s not a whole lot we can do to change those geological forces, but I have a feeling that when it finally does erupt, it will happen across all the possible universes. Or at least the ones that we are likely to inhabit. So, if you were able to see one possible future and pick up a newspaper that talks about an eruption at a specific date and time, then you could pretty confidently take action based on the knowledge that the event is going to occur. Evacuate the area, ground all flights, prepare for the ash cloud. Provided of course that you could get the authorities to believe you.”
Jade nodded slowly. “And if you weren’t a particularly scrupulous individual, what then?”
“I’d buy stock in bottled water and dust masks, I guess.” He paused for just a moment, then continued. “You think there’s a chance that someone who isn’t particularly scrupulous might be planning to do something like that?”
“And we’re working to help her get it.”
“Ophelia doesn’t strike me as being quite that calculating.”
“People change. And you know what they say about power and corruption.”
He frowned. “Now you’re getting into territory that isn’t quite so deterministic. In any case, you can’t judge a person on the basis of what they might do.”
“If you had known from the beginning that Hodges was already working for the Norfolk Group, what would you have done differently?”
“Point taken. So you think that if we allow Ophelia to find the Moon stone and open a permanent window on the future, she’s going to go all power hungry and destroy the world?”
“I don’t think it,” she said, almost at a whisper. “I saw it.”
And that’s not all I saw.
Professor was silent for a long time after that. Finally he said, “Forewarned is forearmed, right? Now that we know what might happen, we can take steps to make sure it never does.”
“And what if the steps we take are exactly what lead us to ruin?”
“You see why I’m happier not knowing. You’ll drive yourself crazy trying to second-guess every decision. What you really need is a good night’s sleep though.”
“Probably. But I think I’ll just sit here with you a while longer.”
Professor smiled. “I can live with that.”
TWENTY-FIVE
The Quest Explorer arrived at its destination, without any further unexpected detours, in the early hours before sunrise. Jade had eventually turned in and slept successfully, her weariness overcoming her anxiety, but when she awoke, the apprehension returned in full force. As they sat over breakfast in the salon, she found herself staring at Ophelia the way a person might look at a career criminal or a known sexual predator, just waiting for them to give in to the dark desires hiding under the surface. And yet, Ophelia had not done anything wrong and might not ever do anything. Perhaps it would require only a single word, spoken at the right time, to ensure Jade’s memories of that dire future would never come to pass.
Jade knew that the answer to the riddle of what that tipping point might be was probably there in her memory as well, but when she tried to think back…or was it forward?…she could only remember terror and loss on a scale that almost made her start crying.
It didn’t happen. It won’t happen. I won’t let it.
After the meal, they all went out on the deck for their first look at the smudge of sand that was Great Isaac Cay. To call it an island was overly generous. The cay was little more than a brow of limestone which, by virtue of its location, had been trapping sand for uncounted millennia. Rising up from it like a rude gesture was the Great Isaac Lighthouse, a one hundred-fifty-two foot tall rusty white spire that flashed its automated navigational warning light every fifteen seconds to alert mariners to the treacherous shallows of the Bahama Banks.
From their anchorage just north of the cay, Jade found it hard to believe the light was still operational. The dilapidated tower and crumbling remains of keeper’s house and other support structures looked more desolate than some of the ruins she had excavated.
“It’s supposedly haunted,” Professor said, with a mischievous gleam in his eye and looking none the worse for wear after his all-night vigil. “According to the lore, in the nineteenth century, a ship foundered nearby with all hands lost except an infant child who washed ashore alive. The ghost of his mother still haunts the island, especially during the full moon, looking for her son. They call her ‘the Grey Lady.’”
“You’re kidding, right?” Jade had heard so many ghost stories in her years of field research that they were hardly more than background noise, but in this instance, she found herself hoping that Professor was just making it up.
He shook his head. “The Grey Lady bit is probably just a coincidence, but the part about the full moon got my attention. Especially since it’s a full moon tonight.”
“It’s not on the island,” Dorion said, peering at the lighthouse. “This is familiar, but we’re in the wrong place.”
Though she kept silent, Jade had felt it too. The sight of the lighthouse had awakened more memories of future events revealed to her by the Shew Stone, but she felt none of the excitement that had accompanied a similar awakening in Costa Rica. Rather, this felt like the first ominous step down a path that could only lead to tragedy
Nichols, who had joined them on deck, raised an eyebrow, but did not voice the question that was clearly foremost in his mind. “We can take you out in a launch. Circle the cay until you, uh, find what it is your looking for. If it’s in the shallows, we won’t be able to bring the Explorer in, but there’s more than one way to skin a cat.”
He led them to the side of the boat where a rigid hulled inflatable boat hung in a davit. Further along the deck was an empty sling, which presumably had once held the boat stolen by the missing crewman who had tried to kill them with the submersible. The remaining launch was lowered into the water, and the four passengers joined Nichols and another crewman for the excursion. With Dorion providing navigational cues, they motored to a spot northwest of the cay.
Jade looked back to the lighthouse, recalling that this was the view as seen from the place where they had found… or rather would find… the Moon stone. Dorion confirmed this a moment later. “Here. It’s directly below us.”
Nichols looked over the edge. The blue water was stunningly clear and Jade could see the sandy bottom and the reef protruding through. There was nothing that hinted at an old submerged wreck. “You say the Misericordia is down there?”
Professor looked as well. “What do you figure? About six fathoms?”
Nichols nodded. “The Explorer draws just shy of twenty-eight feet. That’s a little shallow for my liking, but if we watch the tides and maybe shed a little ballast, we should be able to work in here. It’s a nice depth for diving. We won’t have to worry about decompression stops. But this is a tricky business. You start blasting holes in the reef, and two things are likely to happen pretty darn quick. First, the government’s gonna ask what the hell we’re doing, and where’s our permit? Second, every pirate from here to New Orleans is going to come running to see what we’ve found.”