“Pirates?” asked Ophelia, a little nervously.
“My rivals. Other treasure hunters. Claim jumpers.”
Jade knew that what Nichols was talking about simply went with the territory.
“It would be in our best interests to avoid drawing a lot of attention to our presence here,” Ophelia said.
“I disagree,” said Professor. “Given what happened last night, the wrong people already know that we’re here and they’ve always known what we’re after. Keeping things on the level isn’t going to make our situation any worse, and it will probably make it better since we’ll have the authorities on our side.”
Jade thought it was a good argument, but Ophelia disagreed. “Going through official channels takes time, Dr. Chapman, and that’s something that’s in short supply.”
“Can’t you grease the wheels?” Jade asked, with a little more snark than she intended.
“That works most of the time, but not always,” Nichols said. “All it takes is for one historian or government official who cares more about doing his job than earning his paycheck, and those wheels get very sticky. Our problem here is that we don’t have a good basis for a claim. No offense, Dr. Chapman, but what you’re doing is about the same as water-witching, and it doesn’t hold up in court. We’d need historical evidence supporting the idea that the Misericordia went down here — and if I’m not mistaken, Dr. Chapman told us that the evidence puts her a few thousand miles to the east. We would also need some physical evidence, including something that positively identifies the Misericordia. When I look down there, I don’t see any evidence of a shipwreck.”
“It’s buried under the sand,” Dorion said. “Right down there.”
“Do you know anything about marine archaeology Dr. Dorion? Do you know what happens to a ship that sinks, especially in a place like this? Salt water can do a number on a wooden ship right quick. While that’s happening, currents and storms are pounding against the wreck, ripping it apart and scattering it across the ocean floor. If any pieces big enough survive the storm season, they might become an artificial reef. Coral and other organisms start to grow on it the ribs of the ship or the cannon, and pretty soon, what’s left of the ship has become a new reef. Experts like me know how to look at a bottom profile and see the outline of an old wreck in the shape of the reef. I’m not seeing that here.”
Dorion spread his hands helplessly. “It is there.”
“Be that as it may, we can’t file a claim until we can prove it.”
“And we can’t prove it until we start excavating,” Jade said. “We’re chasing our tail.”
“I need what’s down there,” Ophelia said. Her tone was more authoritarian than desperate, and Jade was reminded that Ophelia was used to getting what she wanted. This time would be no exception.
Nichols’ scratched his chin. “Well, I’ve got a pretty good in with the guy who makes these decisions. They would much rather deal with someone like me than with some of my competitors. I’ll make the calls, but I’m going to need a lot of latitude for these negotiations.”
“You have carte blanche,” Ophelia assured him. “Whatever it takes.”
Nichols seemed genuinely surprised by this. “I don’t get it, Ms. Doerner. You’ve already got more money than God, and treasure hunting, for all its romantic appeal, is a lousy investment. Why are you doing this?”
Ophelia ignored him.
By the time the Quest Explorer was over the coordinates Dorion had indicated, Nichols had used his blank check to secure permission to excavate an exploratory hole. Jade and the others could do little more than stand by and watch as the mailbox blowers were lowered into place over the ship’s propellers. The crew had stripped down to swim trunks. Even Nichols had traded in his designer work shirt for a pair of baggy board shorts. His deep bronze all-over tan confirmed Jade’s suspicion that he remained very involved in the day to day operations of his company. Jade hoped that the ship’s master would stay in uniform, or at the very least, stay on the bridge; even the thought of Lee half-naked was enough to make her throw up a little in her mouth.
With the blowers locked in place, the engines revved up, and for the next fifteen minutes or so, the ship sat unmoving, held in place by anchors with all the slack hauled in, as a blizzard of sand swirled up from below and turned the blue water a milky white. While they waited for the sediment cloud to clear, Jade and Professor began getting ready for the dive.
“I’ll stay topside,” Professor told Jade. “Just in case there’s a problem.”
“Are you sure?” She had never known Professor or any other SEAL to pass up a chance to get wet, but he nodded.
“Probably no reason to worry, but after what happened last night, I’m not going to take any chances.” He stared at her for a second and then said, “Where’s your watch?”
She shrugged. “Broke.”
He stripped off his own wrist chronograph and handed it to her. Jade felt her breath catch when she saw the watch — a stainless steel Omega Seamaster with a bright blue face — but as soon she felt it in her hand, the weird feeling passed. It looked a lot like the watch she’d been wearing in the vision the Shew Stone had showed her, but it wasn’t the same; Professor’s watch was bigger and heavier.
“I’ll want that back. I hope you can take better care of it than you did your own.”
“Yes, dad.” She slipped it over her wrist and closed the double-clasp. The watch was two-fingers loose.
“Just wear it outside the sleeve of your wetsuit,” he directed. “And don’t forget to look at it once in a while.”
“The dive isn’t going to take that long,” she said, and then wished she hadn’t.
“Oh. Sure, I guess you would already know that.”
She managed a wan smile. “The good news is, you probably don’t need to worry about anything going wrong. Not here at least.”
“Maybe nothing goes wrong because I’m worried.”
“Touché, Professor. Well played.”
She stripped down to her bikini without the least trace of self-consciousness. Having spent more than half her life — nearly all her childhood — in a swimsuit, it was second nature now. Still, as she started to pull on a wetsuit borrowed from the Quest Explorer’s gear locker, Jade had to admit, she did look pretty good in the little red two-piece.
As she was donning the rest of her gear, Ophelia joined them. Like everyone else, she was in a swimsuit, which in this case was a tasteful, if ridiculously expensive Missoni Mare psychedelic pattern bikini which fully accentuated her enhanced physique, a fact that did not go unnoticed by the male crewmen she walked past. Jade was a little surprised by her own reaction; she felt threatened in a way that had nothing at all to do with sexuality.
“I’d like to dive,” she said.
Professor met Ophelia’s gaze and his eyes did not stray. “Are you certified?”
The slight tilt of her head was answer enough.
“In order to SCUBA dive, even if it’s just recreationally, you need to have a certification. And to get the certification, you have to take a class and pass a test. So, if you haven’t done that, the answer is, ‘sorry, no.’”