Christopher Cartwright
Rogue Wave
Prologue
The clock showed precisely 4:30 p.m. on the island of Bermuda. Luke Eldridge ran his right hand along his unshaven face. It was uncomfortable. For his 38 years of life he’d always maintained a clean shaven face, until this week. At five-foot ten he was roughly average height for an American of his generation. He had thick brown hair. Hazel eyes. A smile that would have allowed him to go into politics and a cleft chin that made him belong in Hollywood.
He stared at the time for a moment, as though his will alone could stop its progression. In thirty minutes, the others would come for him. They would have his answer. Although it was unlikely to be the one they had sought.
From the comfort of the tiny stone cottage, overlooking the pristine waters of the Atlantic Ocean, his mind should have been clear to roam the many possibilities of the offer which had been made to him. His team had hit the big time. With their discovery, the world was going to be changed forever. He and his fellow scientists were going to be rich. The offers were going to flow in like a deluge. The only problem was the first offer they received had been too good to refuse.
But that was exactly what he intended to do. It was going to dangerously upset the buyers.
THEY had told him not to leave the island until a decision had been made. None of the scientists were given permission to leave, even though the others had hinted that they would be willing to acquiesce to such an offer. Luke had already talked to the other three in his team. Of course they would want to accept. They would all be rich eventually, but the offer they had been given already would see all of them immediately richer than they had ever dreamed of.
He was the exception of course. He was born into a wealthy family. It was easy for the other members of his team to argue that he had the financial luxury of waiting for a better offer. It wasn’t about the money. Luke knew he would have to refuse the offer for the simple fact that it was evil.
He thought about the offer for a moment. It was provided by an angel who delivered the will of the Devil. Twenty billion dollars to purchase the discovery of Elixir Eight and all research lines relating to it for the next hundred years. Effectively banning the progression of the human race in exchange for lining the pockets of a global conglomerate of wealthy oil tycoons. It was one hell of an offer. Only a fraction of Elixir’s true value in the future, but it might take more than a decade to have a working prototype in production scale capable of proving its actual worth.
To the scientists who had made the unlikely discovery, the offer was unbelievable. If it wasn’t for the person THEY had sent to make the offer, he would have accepted it. Even Luke had a price. But when he found out who the offer was made by he saw the extent of the corruption. It was all too much, he couldn’t let that much pass him by. The insult was unbearable, and he would risk his life to confront it.
With no proof, it would be difficult to make them pay publically. He was still working on getting evidence. THEY had told him not to go into the yacht race this year. It was a threat, and he really didn’t like threats. Like a snake, he would bite back.
He wrote a single message to his life insurance broker, the only person he was certain didn’t currently want him dead — and pressed send.
In the event of my death tonight contact Sam Reilly. Only he can prove it was murder.
Luke then proceeded to make his way quickly to the beach where his yacht was moored, awaiting him to join the race.
Hundreds of miles away in a secret chamber on the east coast of America using advanced satellite surveillance, THEY watched the Mirabelle leave the harbor.
“It appears he said no.” From deep in the shadows, the man spoke slowly, so the severity of his statement could not be misunderstood.
Timothy was the first to reply. “Benjamin said he would personally take care of it if Luke refused the offer.”
“Yes, but what if he can’t achieve it? What if his research fails him? Perhaps he was only boasting. I’m not completely confident that it’s even possible in theory, let alone practice. My sources tell me it’s science fiction.”
“It’s been done before,” Timothy replied. “I’ve seen it myself. It sits somewhere between our very near scientific future and science fiction.”
“Yes, but that was only in small tidal pools. Never anything to this scale.”
“Yet it did work. So it’s possible,” Timothy persisted.
“And it requires a lot of energy. Far more than anyone could achieve without destroying half the planet. Hell, when I ran my most optimistic tests, I concluded how such an event would require the detonation of more than five atomic bombs like the one which leveled Nagasaki.”
“Why don’t we just send a team in and kill him?”
The woman in the room sighed. “We’re not the only ones watching him tonight. You know how he’s set up his trust. If there’s anything suspicious surrounding his demise, all of his research lines are to be put forward to public trust. It would be the worst thing to happen. No, the world has to know this was an accident, and this is our best opportunity to make that happen.”
The first speaker replied, “Yeah, well this is going to appear to be one hell of an accident.”
“If you can find any other way to have him killed by an accident, while being filmed, in such a way that the coroner has no choice but to rule accidental death, then I’m open to suggestions?” she replied.
“No, I just hope it’s possible. You know how these scientists get when they’re talking research grants.”
Timothy stood up. “Benjamin doesn’t boast. If he says he has the ability to make it happen, he’ll do it.”
“You better pray you’re right, because Luke has enough information to sink us if any of this gets out. Not only will exposure ruin all of us, but it’ll most likely see us spending the rest of our lives in prison or even end up dead.”
The Mirabelle left the tiny harbor off the small island of Bermuda just after nightfall, leaving a radiant glow of phosphorescence in her wake. She was a 140-foot super yacht. Made from composite materials, she was one of the fastest and most luxurious yachts in the world. A tribute to naval engineering, and ultimate ascension to success for her owner, who had known when he was just three years old that he wanted to become an engineer.
Luke Eldridge, her owner, took the helm with a small complement of skilled sailors at his command, all of whom are established blue water ocean racers. As he cleared the harbor all four of her massive, state of the art, carbon fiber sails were opened fully and the Mirabelle picked up speed, skipping eagerly across the ripples of the unusually mild swell.
The phosphorescence appeared brighter than he’d ever seen. With each crash of the bow as it sliced through the otherwise dark water, it seemed to radiate — giving the surreal appearance as though the ocean were coming alive.
Luke was still reeling with anger as the Mirabelle took the lead in the race, distancing herself quickly from the other yachts in the regatta. It was merely a charity race from Bermuda to Florida Keys, but he normally enjoyed it. There were no other yachts in his class, and none of the vessels matched his abilities. THEY didn’t want him to race this year, and he nearly hadn’t. But then, when the offer was made, he decided he needed the time out to clear his thoughts.
It was THEIR first mistake.
Thinking he could be muscled into a decision about his greatest development was ridiculous. If anything, it had made him even more determined to refuse the offer.