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Authors: Steve Alten

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No biologics were detected moving out from beneath the Ronne Ice Shelf.

Jonas spent most of his free time field-testing the reequipped Manta. With the two bulky
Valkyrie
laser units strapped to its wings the sub’s performance was noticeably sluggish. Zachary Wallace had chosen to trade speed and hydrodynamics for the ability to melt ice rapidly and Jonas was having second thoughts about facing an eighty-foot bull Miocene sperm whale in a cavitating vessel with a top speed of only twenty-three knots. In the end he told his engineer to only convert one of the two subs, leaving himself a “game-day” decision.

The incredible news story coming from the Ross Sea broke on the night of February twenty-first. Every person onboard the
McFarland
had their computer and iPhone tuned in to the story—except for Terry. Having finally seen the monster her son was risking his life to capture, she refused to watch anything more, insisting to her husband that he end this Miocene whale nonsense and order the hopper-dredge to intercept the
Tonga
.

One major problem: The tanker was located halfway around the continent. If they chose the wrong route and the Lio headed for the Weddell Sea instead of the Amery Ice Shelf as it had in Zach’s “other reality” then they’d never be able to rendezvous with the ship by March third.

Zachary Wallace assured the Taylors that the
Liopleurodon
’s unexpected appearance and encounter in the Ross Sea was a positive sign. The journey from the Weddell Sea to the Amery Ice Shelf would take five days, that gave them four to determine their course of action.

Privately, Zachary feared what might happen if the Lio remained under the Ross Ice Shelf for an extended period of time. According to his contacts aboard the
Tonga
, the thickness of the sea ice had muted the tracking device’s signal and Fiesal bin Rashidi’s crew were again operating in the blind.

On February twenty-third the Crown Prince of Dubai held a press conference at the entrance of his nearly-completed resort to announce that over a billion people had now seen the
Liopleurodon
footage. He predicted the monster—once captured—would draw ten times the number of guests than the Tanaka Institute drew during its last four years harboring Angel and her pups. For the first time the prince permitted news crews to tour Dubai Land’s massive aquariums, allowing them to film Angel’s only remaining captive pup—now a thirty-six-foot long juvenile albino adult. As a special treat, he offered an exclusive glimpse of his
Dunkleosteus
, a prehistoric fish that dated back 360 million years to the late Devonian period, then concluded his infomercial by revealing that his two ships had entered the Antarctic Circle and were actively tracking the
Liopleurodon
, although he refused to give out their location. “If you want to know then I suggest you watch this week’s episode of Dubai Land: Sea Monster Quest. It is must-watch television.”

The sonar array remained silent another thirty-six hours, pushing Zachary Wallace’s deadline for the
McFarland
’s departure to its limits.

And then, on the night of February twenty-fifth at 8:52 p.m., sonar buoy number seven detected something immense moving out from beneath the Ronne Ice Shelf.

*   *   *

Zachary Wallace descended a steel stairwell into the bowels of the
McFarland
, accompanied by a disturbing sense of déjà vu. Reaching the lowest deck, he made his way aft through a tight corridor, past the engine room to a watertight door.

WARNING: PRESSURIZED DIVE CHAMBER

Do NOT enter when red light is ON.

The light was off, the door open.

Jonas was already inside, speaking with a silver-haired man in his fifties wearing a navy-blue jumpsuit and leather jacket stained with grease.

Perched on rubber blocks above a pair of sealed horizontal doors were two Manta submersibles. Attached to vessel number four’s nine-foot wings were two
Valkyrie
lasers. A harpoon gun protruded from beneath its prow.

Jonas was inspecting the unit. He looked up as Zach entered the chamber.

“Zachary, I don’t think you’ve met my chief engineer, Cyel Reed.”

Reed snorted sarcastically. “One chief, no Indians … and still no damn heater down here. I had to pour boiling water over the starboard wing just to tighten the support struts on the laser after your last test run.”

Jonas examined the
Valkyrie
strapped to the right wing. “It seems pretty tight.”

“A virgin’s tight until she’s been ridden a few dozen times. If I told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times, you can’t fly this albatross like an F-15. Weight distribution’s off. You don’t put a luggage rack on a Ferrari and expect it to perform. Barrel rolls or the ability to melt ice—pick your poison, J.T.”

Jonas turned to Zach. “It’s your mission; your call. Or should I say, ‘your premonition’?”

“Melting ice is more important than speed.”

“Not if we’re being chased by a hundred-ton sperm whale with teeth bigger than a Meg.”

“True. But these lasers can plow us straight through any blocked passages below the ice shelf.”

“Zach, I don’t want to be anywhere near the ice shelf. At the briefing you said we’d park the Manta along the bottom and wait for your whale to return from his nocturnal feeding. Then, as it passed over us—”

“I ken whit I said, but things can change in a hurry. Whit if it’s echolocating and detects the sub’s engines before it passes over us? Whit if it takes another route back tae the lake? Having those lasers charged and ready tae go gives us another weapon in our arsenal.”

“Weapon? I don’t want to kill this thing, in fact, I was toying with the idea of capturing it.”

“Out of the question.”

“Hang on Zach, I haven’t even pitched you my idea—”

“Ye had the captain drain the hopper; I’m assuming ye think ye can create a vacuum effect powerful enough tae inhale the melvillei straight up intae the tank. Forget it. That might work for one of the sisters, but this creature is twice their size and mass. It’ll sink us, Jonas, and that’s not a premonition, that’s simple physics.”

Jonas glanced at his engineer, who shrugged. “What do I know about tagging whales?”

Zachary climbed inside the starboard cockpit of
Manta-Four
, stowing his laptop in a side pouch.

Jonas situated himself in the portside command console. Cyel Reed leaned into the open cockpit to point out the triggering mechanism he had rigged to fire the harpoon gun.

“Duct tape? For real?”

“I’m not ruining the cockpit’s finish to screw in some lame control; the duct tape will do just fine. Pleasant hunting, Ahab.” The engineer sealed the cockpit glass and left the chamber to occupy a small control room farther down the corridor.

Jonas methodically ran through an abbreviated systems checklist. “Hatch sealed. Life-support—go. Batteries—go. Backup systems charged.
Valkyries
charged. Chamber is pressurized.” He checked the radio headset. “Terry, are you there?”

“Yes, Jonas.”

“How long do we have before first light?”

“The captain says you’ve got three hours, give or take ten minutes. The
McFarland
will remain in position outside the sonar grid. Ask your friend if he’s heard from the
Tonga
.”

Zach shook his head.

“Nothing yet.”

“Jonas, are you sure about this?”

“One quick shot and we’ll be home for breakfast. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

“Mr. Reed,
Manta-Four
is ready for launch. Did you remember to release the clamps on our docking blocks before you left the chamber?”

“Kiss my ass.”

“Acknowledged, docking clamps released. Seal and flood the chamber, please.”

Water rushed into the compartment, lifting the buoyant submersible off its perch. A red warning light powered off, yielding to one in green. Seconds later the sound of rusted metal hinges groaned all around them as the keel’s three-inch-thick steel doors opened, venting the chamber to the Weddell Sea.

Jonas waited until the pressure equalized before maneuvering the two-man submersible out of the flooded dock and into the frigid black sea.

“Switching to night-vision glass.” Turning a rotary switch on his control console, Jonas changed the tinting on the cockpit glass, the darkness blooming into an olive-green world.

Moving beyond the hopper-dredge’s keel, Jonas descended eighty feet, the visibility incredibly clear. The sea floor was a brown nutrient-rich muck carpeted in pink starfish, strange-shaped coral, and colorful urchins.

Ahead loomed a wall of ice, the underside of which was suspended fifty to seventy feet off the bottom—the entire Ronne Ice Shelf floating on the Weddell Sea.

A gentle three-knot current flowed out from beneath the ice sheet, rocking the submersible. Jonas powered on the Manta’s external lights, revealing a seemingly endless passage squeezed between the muck and the ice shelf’s frozen ceiling.

“I’m glad we’re not going in there.”

Zachary checked the coordinates on the sonar buoy that had detected the Miocene whale’s emergence. “We’re three kilometers too far tae the west.”

Keeping the Manta just outside the opening of the horizontal chasm, Jonas headed east.

“Dr. Wallace … a question: How long can a modern-day sperm whale hold its breath?”

“On a deepwater dive? About ninety minutes. Why?”

“Lake Ellsworth is located approximately thirty to fifty miles to the south of our current position. Prior to the collapse of the ice shelf last summer the lake was seven hundred miles farther inland. Seven hundred miles is a long journey underwater on a single breath of air. How do you suppose your Miocene whale could have made it this far back in 1940 before the ice shelf collapsed?”

“Good question. The answer is—I’m not sure, although the issue has been on my mind as well. I’ve come up with three potential explanations.”

“I’ve got all night.”

“First, the passage that opened between Lake Ellsworth and the Weddell Sea back in 1940 could have contained air pockets.”

“That’s a bit of a cop-out.”

“Agreed. And even if it turned out tae be true, I doubt any air-breathing mammal would have attempted the journey unless one of the other possibilities were in play.”

“Go on.”

“Like your
Liopleurodon
,
Livyatan melvillei
could have evolved gills.”

“I very much doubt that.
Liopleurodon
was a sea reptile. Gills may have been a natural progression for a pliosaur; not so with a mammal. What’s your third theory—and make it a good one because I’m not spending all night waiting for a ghost.”

“A ghost? Jonas, you saw those photos, this whale is real.”

“I don’t know what I saw. The images were blurry and that lower jaw and teeth could have been photoshopped. So what’s your last theory?”

Zach exhaled, exasperated. “In studying how sperm whales are able tae hold their breath for so long, scientists at the University of Liverpool recently discovered the mammals possess an abundance of myoglobin, a protein which binds oxygen in the blood. In deep diving mammals like sperm whales the myoglobin becomes electrically charged. The charge causes the proteins tae repel each other, preventing them from forming clumps that could impede their ability to carry oxygen. This innate form of electro-repulsion, combined with elevated levels of myoglobin, prevents the proteins from sticking together, increasing the ability of the sperm whale’s muscles tae store oxygen. Myoglobin is found in high levels in meat and is whit gives it its red color.
Livyatan melvillei
is a prehistoric cousin of the modern-day sperm whale, but it’s still a different species. While sperm whales prefer tae eat squid and fish, Miocene whales were voracious meat-eaters. According tae Captain Mikkleson’s log, the meat taken from the Miocene whale that attacked their ship was as black as the midnight sea, indicating extremely high concentrations of myoglobin in the creature’s muscles.”

Jonas nodded. “Okay, I’ll buy into that … for now. How close are we to—”

Without warning the Manta was barreled sideways by a tsunami-like current flowing out from beneath the ice shelf. Before Jonas could react the starboard wing flipped over, the riptide sweeping the inverted submersible out to sea.

Gripping the joystick, Jonas rolled the Manta right-side-up. Banking hard to port, he accelerated out of the intense stream. “Zach?”

“That was a subglacial river.”

“I wasn’t expecting that kind of intensity.”

“It’s the ice. It generates thousands of pounds of pressure. That’s got tae be the passage the whale followed out of Lake Ellsworth.”

“If that’s the case then we may have a problem. Your whale wouldn’t have battled that head current to re-enter the lake, it would have taken a different route beneath the ice shelf. While we’re waiting here, it could be making its pre-dawn return trip miles up or down the coast.”

“That’s unlikely, Jonas. Whales possess sensory systems that function like built-in GPS units; it’ll use the subglacial river as a reference point. No, I think we jist need tae find a place close by, settle in and wait.”

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