He rounded the island and turned towards the west. At the press of a couple buttons, the enormous carbon fiber sails, attached to the four masts, tacked westerly. The traditionalists among sailors would argue that his ship was a monster bred out of some ghastly land based engineer’s mind, with no resemblance to skilled sailing. To Luke, the Mirabelle was a monument of man’s ability to overcome any challenge through the achievement of science and dedicated engineering. A perfect balance of modern engineering and synergy with nature.
The swell appeared unusually mild, and the now offshore winds were picking up their pace, gusting through to thirty knots. It would cause trouble to some of the smaller yachts in the fleet, but to the Mirabelle, was only just enough wind to motivate her massive hull to skip over the ocean ripples.
It would be an easy twenty-four hour run.
Like other millionaires, Luke was consumed with passion for everything he did, and his latest choice, would have far reaching consequences beyond financial wealth. The players were powerful, the stakes even higher, and the outcome would definitely change the world — but for good or for worse, he still hadn’t decided.
Just over fifty miles out from the starting line, his mind was drawn back to the words Benjamin had said to him at the end of the meeting.
Don’t take the Mirabelle out until you’ve made your decision known. They will sink you and we both know how they’ll do it, too — the threat was fanciful at best.
Luke thought about the words again and how ludicrous the threat was. The Mirabelle and all other vessels in his near vicinity were being tracked by GPS — no one, bar a submarine could reach him. Lastly, the threat that had been made was not yet possible — despite their current research into it.
That night he slept peacefully for the first sleep rotation starting at 11 pm while one of the crew took the helm. The Mirabelle sailed through the open ocean at speed. He rested better than he had for many years. The stress finally relinquished from his mind.
At three a.m. the skipper knocked on the door of his private cabin. It was the confident knock of a man who knew he had a duty to perform and concern for waking up his master was of little consequence.
“Good morning, Brian.” As Luke spoke, he was already pulling his safety harness over his shoulders. “I will be up in a minute.”
“Very good sir. Coffee will be waiting for you on the bridge.”
Despite owning the yacht and paying for a professional crew, Luke always insisted that he took his natural turn on the rotating roster of watches; otherwise, for him, the entire purpose of sailing would have been perverted.
He climbed the stairs towards the bridge with resolute movements.
“Anything to report, Brian?” he asked.
“No, we’ve had a good sail this watch. Our winds have behaved kindly at twenty knots with the occasional gust up to thirty. They’ve been maintaining their easterly direction. Mirabelle is performing at her natural efficiency, and we are comfortably maintaining a speed of eighty percent of her hull displacement.”
“Very good.” Luke had heard this type of report many times already this trip. “How about you, James?”
“Nothing of significance to report, sir, but you might be interested to note the phosphorescence seems to be out in full tonight. It’s quite beautiful.”
“I’m pleased to hear it. I shall enjoy that.” Since the first time his father had taken him out sailing when he was a young boy, Luke had been mesmerized by the star like glow that the microscopic creatures would emit as they react with the mechanical motion of the waves and the bow of the yacht. “Very good, gentlemen. You’re both dismissed.”
Luke sipped his warm coffee as he walked around the deck assessing the sails. The moon was absent, but the myriad of stars reflected enough light on the almost still water to see the sails clearly without a flashlight.
Ordinarily, he would connect to a lifeline while on a night watch. Tonight, the calm waters left him with a sense of safety on the large vessel and despite having done so a thousand times before, he failed to clip into the lifeline that ran the length of the yacht.
He walked around the deck, methodically checking that everything was in order. Pleased to discover it was and that he had not wasted the exorbitant money he spent on the crew, Luke decided to walk directly to the foredeck.
There he stood, watching the surreal blend of starlight and phosphorescence. He had never seen a more magical night, and Luke took it as a sign from God that his decision had been justified as it was necessary. Although, the Almighty alone, may be the only one to realize it within his lifetime.
For the first time in years, he’d accepted this with equanimity.
Ahead of the Mirabelle, Luke noticed the phosphorescence increased in luminosity. Slowly at first and then a little more rapidly. It moved away from the yacht as though something pulled at it. Against all common sense and alone on the watch, Luke decided to climb the eighteen-foot bowsprit to get a better view of the strange and beautiful phenomenon.
His intuition wasn’t awakened as it should have been.
Instead, something intrinsically deeper was stirred by its magic. He should have alerted the crew; he should have checked to see how much the autopilot had to correct its steering against the strange current.
If nothing else, he should have had a glimpse at the radar. If he had, he might have received warning about what was heading his way and the outcome may have been very different.
As it was, Luke was caught up in the beautiful event.
It wasn’t until the fast flowing glow along the surface of the ocean turned into a green glowing froth that he realized the breadth of his mistake.
Ahead of him, approaching at a tantalizingly slow pace was a wall of green. It appeared more like a waterfall.
My God, I can’t believe they managed to build it!
His first thought was only of the science behind the achievement. Then he understood the danger. Luke ran as fast as possible towards the safe house — a clear dome shaped room designed as a place of last resort during large seas. He ran as fast as he could, thankful today of all days that he hadn’t clipped into the safety line.
He reached it just in time. He spun the lock on the hatch until it became airtight. The room was supposed to be nearly bombproof. Luke had barely enough time to look back and see the apparition as it flowed towards them.
He cursed his selfishness for not warning his crew. But for what purpose should he have? It would have only allowed them to wake long enough to know they were about to die.
A second later the green glow reached the Mirabelle’s bow.
Luke stood proud. The reflection of the rich green glow in his eyes sparkling like stars. Taking one last look at the bewitching apparition as it greeted him. He heard the destruction of every inch of the ship as the wall of water raced towards him.
Then everything went dark and silent as his world disappeared.
Chapter One
Benjamin White drove along the I-70 through the Great Plains, heading west towards the Rocky Mountains. It was approaching time for breakfast. He’d driven through the night trying to catch up with Sam Reilly, but it appeared the man had gone to some lengths to avoid being found. He laughed as he remembered his discussion with the man’s friend, Tom Bower. I wonder if he’s sent me on a wild goose chase. He was going to be in royal trouble if he couldn’t find the man. He looked down at his cell phone, no more than his peripheral vision on the road as he fumbled through the long list of contacts. Benjamin stopped when he found Tom Bower’s number and pressed connect.