Deep Fathom (30 page)

Karen sat down, but Jack remained standing. He wanted answers. “Who are you?” he asked.

“I am Mwahu, son of Waupau.”

“Why did you help us?”

This earned a scowl from the man. “Elders say we must. To punish us. We failed our great ancestor.”

“Failed to do what?” Jack jerked a thumb in Karen's direction. “Failed to kill her and her friend last week?”

“Jack…” Karen cautioned him under her breath.

Mwahu leaned on the rudder, glancing away. “We want to hurt no one. Only to protect. It is our duty.”

“I don't understand,” Karen said softly. “Protect who?”

The man remained silent.

“Who?” Jack repeated.

He raised his eyes to the roof. “Protect the world. Oldest teachings say that none must disturb the stone villages, or a curse will come to destroy us all.” He glanced back toward the fires near the horizon. “Already the curse comes.”

Jack leaned toward Karen. “Do you recognize any of his mumbo jumbo?”

She shook her head but kept her eyes on the leader. “Mwahu, tell me more about these teachings. Whose are they?”

“The words of our great ancestor, Horon-ko, were written
long ago. Only elders read it.”

“Elders of which island? Where is your home?”

“No island home.” He cast an arm to encompass the open seas. “Here is our home.”

“The ocean?”

He frowned and turned his back on Karen. “No.”

“Mwahu—”

“I no speak no more of it. The elders tell me to help you. I help you.”

Jack interrupted. “Why did they tell you to?”

The islander fingered the coiled serpent tattoo. “Elder Rau-ren says you cannot put poison back into snake's fang once it bites.” He lowered his arm, signaling the end to this discussion. “Killing the snake, no good. Only help can save you.”

“In other words,” Karen whispered to Jack, “the cat's out of the bag. The wrong can't be undone.”

“What wrong?” Jack asked.

“Something about us taking the crystal out of the pyramid.”

He frowned. “Everything keeps coming back to the crystal.”

“If his elders have some ancient text that warns about these ruins, it must have come from the same era in which they were built.” Karen stood up, excited. “Mwahu, can you read any of the ancient writings?”

He glanced at her. “Some. My father was an elder. He teach me before he die.”

Karen shuffled in her pack for pen and paper. Moving closer to Mwahu, she held the paper to the deck and scrawled a crude rendition of a few of the symbols. He leaned over, one hand still on the long wooden rudder.

“Can you read any of this?” she asked.

As he stared at it, his breathing became harder and his eyes widened. Then, abruptly, he ripped it from the deck, crumpled it and tossed it into the sea. “It is forbidden!” he said between clenched teeth.

Karen backed away from his vehemence and sat down.
“It must be the same language,” she said to Jack. “But clearly there's some taboo about putting it to paper.”

“Maybe it's their attempt to maintain the language's secrecy.”

She was thoughtful for a moment. “You're probably right, but I've never heard of any island sect like this. Why the mystery? What were his ancestors warning against?”

Jack shook his head. “Who knows?”

“Perhaps there might be an answer in the inscriptions. If we could get Mwahu to help us, it might accelerate our work.”

“That is, if you can trust anything this man says.”

Karen sighed. “He seems sincere enough. And he clearly believes what he said.”

“Just because he believes it doesn't make it true.”

“I suppose. Still, it's a place to begin.” She leaned back, her eyes glazing as she stared out at the sea.

Sighing, he leaned back, too, but ignored the view and kept a wary watch on the three men aboard the boat. They might claim to want to help, but considering Karen and Miyuki's encounters with them, he knew they could be dangerous.

The rest of the journey was made in silence. Soon the lights of Naha's harbor could be seen ahead. Even from a mile out, it was apparent that the island was in turmoil. The U.S. base on the south side of the harbor was lit up like Times Square. Planes of all sizes circled the island, while the waters ahead were thick with military vessels.

Jack and Karen moved to the bow. She pointed. One of the government buildings was now a cratered and smoking ruin.

“Rocket strike,” Jack commented.

Karen's eyes widened. “Miyuki…”

He took her hand in his. “I'm sure she's fine. The university is inland, away from the most likely targets. Besides, she has thirty-nine U.S. military bases protecting her.”

Karen did not look convinced.

En route to the island, their own boat was stopped twice
and searched before it was allowed to proceed. Jack was glad to see the trio's weapons taken from them during the first search. He had tried to urge Karen to abandon these islanders and board the military cutter, but she refused. “Mwahu might hold the only key to this language,” she'd mumbled. “I can't lose him.”

So they remained on the sampan as it glided through the harbor to the marina. They moored and climbed onto the docks. A Japanese officer checked their papers. Jack was surprised to see the Pacific islanders produce tattered and weathered passports.

When the officer handed back all their papers, he spoke to them in English. “You picked a poor time to go sightseeing. We've had a flood of refugees from the south. We're trying to divert as many to the north as possible. Otherwise, all other civilians are being evacuated via the international airport.”

“You're evacuating the entire island?” Jack asked.

“Or relocating them into bunkers. As many as we can. We don't expect fighting to reach our shores, but we're taking no chances. Another rocket barrage could occur at any time. I suggest you collect your personal belongings and report to the airport.”

Karen nodded. “Ryukyu University…?”

“It's already cleared out.” The man waved them down the dock as more makeshift crafts drifted in. “Good luck.”

Jack led Karen and Mwahu toward the shore and the city. Mwahu's two men remained with the sampan. Karen moved up next to Jack. “What if Miyuki is already gone?” she asked.

“She'll be there. I can't imagine her leaving her lab unless they dragged her out kicking and screaming.”

She smiled at that. Without thinking, Jack put his arm around her. Karen leaned in to him, tucking herself against his side.

No words were spoken. With Mwahu following, they moved on through the earthquake-ravaged city to where a bus still serviced the university area. It was a short ride to
Ryukyu, and a quiet walk to the computer facility.

Once at the steps, Karen pointed toward the fifth floor. There were no lights on. Then they discovered that the door to the building was locked and the lobby dark. “Hello!” she called out, knocking.

A guard appeared around a corner, his flashlight's beam washing across the three of them and settling on Karen.

“Professor Grace,” he said with clear relief. He climbed the stairs, passing Mwahu with a suspicious glance. With a jangle of keys, he moved to the door. “Professor Nakano refused to leave until you returned.”

“Is she in her lab?”

“No, she's in my office. We've locked down all the upper floors.”

He opened the door and led them into the lobby, guiding them with his flashlight through the dark interior. From under a door ahead, light glowed. The guard knocked, then pushed the door open.

Miyuki was sitting at a desk, the thick briefcase open before her containing a portable computer. At the sight of them, she burst to her feet. “Thank God you're okay!”

“We're fine,” Karen said, hugging her reassuringly. “What about you?”

“Shaken up. Lots of fireworks.”

Karen noticed the portable computer. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“I couldn't risk losing all our work. So I diverted Gabriel into moving all our research off site and backed up everything onto this computer, just in case. I also revamped the portable unit to accommodate Gabriel.” Miyuki reached out and touched a key.

A familiar disembodied voice arose from the tiny speakers.
“Good evening, Professor Nakano. I will continue troubleshooting our connections and interfaces to make certain all is in order.”

“Thank you, Gabriel.”

Behind Jack, the South Pacific islander pushed into the room, glancing with suspicion toward the computer. Miyuki
noticed him and jerked back.

Karen put a hand on her shoulder, steadying her. “It's okay,” she said. “I'll explain it all later.”

Keeping a watch on the tattooed stranger, Miyuki snapped the computer case closed. She unhooked the cables and wound them up. “We need to leave.”

“I heard about the evacuation. Do you have the crystal?”

Miyuki frowned at her, then tilted her head toward Mwahu.

“It
really
is okay,” she said. “He's here to help us now.”

Miyuki hardly looked convinced. Jack moved beside her. “And if it helps, he's alone and unarmed.”

She studied Jack for a breath, then seemed to sag. “The star's in my luggage.” She nodded toward a wheeled suitcase behind the desk. “I also went to your flat and collected everything I could see that you might want…including Jack's stuff.” She pointed to a second suitcase.

“We could've done it ourselves,” Karen said.

“Not if you want to catch a flight off this island. My cousin pilots a small private jet, a charter service. He's agreed to get us out, but we have to leave—” She glanced at her watch. “—in thirty minutes.”

Jack frowned. Everything was moving too fast. “Where to? Tokyo?”

Miyuki bit her lip. “No. I thought it best if we leave the area entirely.”

“Then where?” Karen asked.

“I asked him to take us to Pohnpei Island.” Miyuki looked from one of them to the other. “I thought if we had to go somewhere, why not follow the one clue in the transcription? To the ruins at Nan Madol.”

Karen laughed. “Fantastic. I knew you were an adventurer at heart.”

“It's not a bad plan,” Jack said. “We can search for additional clues without being in the middle of a war zone. But I'll need to contact my ship first, let them know the change in plans.”

“Oh God, in all the craziness, I forgot. Just before I left Karen's apartment, I received a call from your boat. A
Charles Molder.”

“Charlie Mollier?”

“Right. He seemed anxious to speak to you.”

“When did he call?”

“About half an hour ago.”

“Is there a working phone around here?”

Miyuki nodded. “The line I was using for the computer should still be okay.” She hooked up a small desk phone and passed him the receiver.

He crouched over the desk and tapped in the
Deep Fathom
's satellite number. A short burst of static briefly turned into Charlie's voice.

“Jack? Is that you?”

“Yeah, what's up? All hell's breaking loose out here and I'm heading to Pohnpei.”

“In Micronesia?”

“Yeah, it's too long a story. You still near Kwajalein?”

“Yeah, but—”

“It's not that far from Pohnpei. Can you meet us there?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Good. I'll keep you post—”

“Goddamn it, Jack!” Charlie burst in. “Listen to me.”

“What?” Jack realized he hadn't asked Charlie why he'd called.

“We've got a bomb on board here.”

It took Jack a few moments to understand. “A bomb?”

“A goddamn bomb. As in big fucking explosion.”

“How…? Who…?”

“It was planted in the radio room.”

“Get rid of it!”

“Oh jeez,
mon
, why didn't I think of that? I may not know much about explosive devices, but this baby looks booby-trapped and has an electronic receiver. I ain't touching it.”

As his shock bled away, Jack suspected that David Spangler was the culprit behind the bomb. He remembered the little gift of Chinese electronics. “Spangler,” he hissed.

“What?”

“One of Spangler's men must have planted it.” In the
back of his mind he wondered if this act of sabotage was simply revenge on David's part, or if David had suspected that he was on to something. “Listen, Charlie, I don't know what you're still doing on the
Fathom
, but get everyone off and alert the authorities.”

“Already working on that. We've got the launch outfitted. Everyone is loaded up, except Robert and I. You almost missed us.”

“Get your asses out of there! Why did you even bother to call?”

“We were hoping you could talk us through defusing it?”

“Are you insane?”

“Hell, it's the
Fathom
we're talking about, Jack.”

Jack gripped the receiver tightly. “Listen to me—”

“Just a sec…”

Jack heard Charlie call out, then heard another voice, faintly in the background. It was Robert.
“The light…it's blinking more rapidly.”

Oh, God! Jack yelled into the phone. “Charlie! Get out of there!”

The receiver suddenly squelched with static, standing his small hairs on end—then the phone went ominously dead. “Charlie!” He clicked the receiver again and again. A dial tone returned. Savagely, he tapped in the code for the
Deep Fathom
again. “Goddamn it!”

Karen stood behind him. “Jack? What's wrong?”

He didn't answer. He listened as the satellite connection fed through, but all he got as an answer was a screech of white noise. Then nothing again. He lowered the phone. He was numb all over, fearing the worst. He prayed it was just the connection frizzing out. But in his heart he knew he was wrong. He had heard the panic in Robert's voice.