The Stennis’s flight deck was 1,092 feet long and 252 feet wide. The plane Duncan had flown in on was already disconnected from the landing cable and being towed to the large elevator that would bring it to the deck below for service. F-14 Tomcats and F/A-18 Hornets crowded the deck, jammed in tight.
Turcotte led the way to a conference room just off the communications shack that the captain had reserved for his use. Turcotte had arrived on the Stennis a half hour before from his Antarctic expedition, only to learn that Duncan was en route and that the Easter Island Task Force was in a communications blackout owing to the NSA shutting down the FLTSATCOM satellite.
As Turcotte poured them both a cup of coffee, Lisa Duncan took off her leather jacket and put her briefcase on top of the conference table.
“Nothing from Easter Island?” Turcotte asked.
“The Sea Eye torpedo went through the shield. But that’s the last we’ve heard from it. The Springfield cut the wire.”
“And the Springfield?”
“Sitting on the bottom, just outside the shield. Three foo fighters are around it.”
“Where did they come from?”
“I’d say from Easter Island. Maybe the guardian made some.”
“Made some,” Turcotte repeated. “That’s not good. How long can the sub just sit there?”
“Months if necessary,” Duncan said.
“I wonder what the hell is going on with Kelly,” Turcotte said. “I’m sure she was in contact with the guardian.”
Duncan accepted the coffee and took a drink. She wrapped her fingers around the mug, feeling the warmth. “She could be dead.”
“She could be, but I don’t think so. I think the guardian would find her too useful.”
Duncan didn’t like dwelling on that, so she changed the subject. “I got your report on Scorpion Base.”
“I’m having the computer hard drives forwarded to Major Quinn at Area 51. Maybe his people can pull something out of them. We’ll have to wait on the bodies until they can thaw those tanks out and remove them.”
Lisa Duncan held up a sheaf of faxes she’d received in flight. “This is only a partial listing of what the guardian got into on the Interlink and Internet before it got cut off.”
“Anything significant?”
Duncan snorted. “Yeah, everything’s significant. Classified-weapons programs. Research information. It accessed the skunkworks and got performance data on all the classified-aircraft programs. It completely went through NASA’s database and got everything on the space program. Department of Defense records.”
“A recon,” Turcotte summed it up.
“Exactly.”
“But for what purpose?” Turcotte mused. “Simply to gather information, or does it have something planned?”
“Probably both,” Duncan said. “The guardian also went into the Internet.” “And?”
“NSA is still trying to track everything it did. But the disturbing thing is that it appears the guardian sent some e-mail messages.”
“To who?”
“NSA hasn’t tracked that down yet, and they’re not sure they’re going to be able to as the addresses no longer exist.”
“What were the messages?”
“They were encoded. NSA is still trying to break the code.” Duncan shoved the papers aside. “There’s more.”
Turcotte rubbed his eyes. “What?”
“I got a strange call.” Duncan told him of the brief conversation with Harrison.
“Anything on this Harrison guy?”
“I’ve had Major Quinn check. Nothing.”
“And his claim that Temiltepec was not the site the guardian was found at?”
“Major Quinn’s got someone checking on that, but Majestic didn’t keep very good records the last year and a half at Area 51 on all that — it was all at Dulce.”
“And the shuttles?”
“NASA is doing a dual launch. One shuttle from Cape Kennedy, the other from Vandenberg Air Force Base. The Columbia will rendezvous with the sixth talon. The Endeavor will go to the mothership. I talked to Larry Kincaid about it and he says UNAOC has put a blanket of secrecy over the whole thing, but his opinion is that the whole operation, starting with the dual launch, to trying to make the rendezvous, is very dangerous and he hasn’t really heard a good reason why there is such a rush to accomplish this.”
“What about the possibility there is another ruby sphere, like this Harrison guy suggested?” Turcotte asked. “Could UNAOC have uncovered another one and kept it a secret?”
“I doubt it,” Duncan said, “but it’s possible.”
“Why is the mothership so important right now?” Turcotte asked. “What’s this plan that Harrison mentioned?”
“I have no idea,” Duncan said. “There’s other news out of Area 51.” “What?”
“I don’t know yet. I just got a call while flying here. Major Quinn and Larry Kincaid are on their way here on a bouncer. Should be arriving any minute.”
“Why are they coming here?” Turcotte asked. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to videoconference?”
“I don’t know,” Duncan said. “Quinn sounded very weird. We’ll find out when they get here.”
“Let’s take a walk while we wait,” Turcotte said. He led the way, along a walkway just below the flight deck, toward the bow of the ship. They stood together at the very front of the Stennis, underneath the leading edge of the flight deck. Turcotte could feel the spray as the bow cut through the water and the ship made flank speed to the north. He reached out and gave Lisa Duncan a hand as she stepped over a cable and joined him.
It was dark, but the phosphorescence of the algae being churned up glowed below them. Turcotte could feel the power of ship, its engines at full power, the propellers cutting the water, moving over 100,000 tons at forty miles an hour.
“I talked to UNAOC headquarters in New York and to the National Security Adviser at the White House on my way here,” Duncan said, “to get a feel how things are going. And to try to find out about the shuttle launches and the ruby sphere.”
“And?” Turcotte sensed her reluctance to speak. But he’d done some thinking on the way up from Antarctica and he had a good idea what was coming.
“From the former, like talking to a brick wall. I didn’t tell them much, just tried to feel things out.”
“What a surprise,” Turcotte said.
“UNAOC is lying low,” Duncan said. “The backlash against the destruction of the Airlia fleet took them by surprise.”
“But they’re still planning on launching space shuttles to hook up with the mothership and talon, right?”
Duncan nodded. “I know. Something strange is going on.”
“I recommend we look at UNAOC like we used to look at Majestic-12,” Turcotte said. “Don’t run anything by them, don’t ask them for anything.”
“But they supported us against the Airlia fleet,” Duncan protested. “After the fact,” Turcotte said. “And now they’ve changed their tune.” Turcotte let the silence play out.
“All right,” Duncan agreed to his proposal.
“What about our government?”
“Split.”
“Great.”
“Politics, Mike,” Duncan explained. “The progressives are growing stronger every day. And then there’s the isolationists.”