Weapon of Atlantis (5 page)

Zeus placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder and stared sympathetically into his eyes.

“We survive,” he stated simply.

Poseidon looked down at their
clothes and simple tools attached to their waist belts. He shook his head in doubt.

“Survive? How? We have no food, no shelter and no weapons,” he shot back.

Zeus nodded toward the spacecraft.

“Follow me,” he said confidently.

The two walked to the half-buried transport. Zeus climbed up onto the hull, then to the opening they had ejected through earlier. He jumped down inside and stood in the empty space that once held their seats.

“Thi
s will be our shelter,” he said in assuring tone.

He reached down to the console and wrapped his fingers around the handle of his scepter. Pulling it from its diamond-shaped hole, he thrust it into the air. Pointing skyward, he squeezed the handle. A bolt of energy shot out the end and into the air.

“With this scepter, there’s nothing on this planet we’ll fear. We can hunt and fish. We can defend ourselves.” He placed the scepter blade against his body and lightly squeezed. Instantly, the blade warmed and penetrated through to his skin. “We can even keep warm with this tool.”

Poseidon looked on unimpressed.

“But how do we get home?” he asked.

Zeus looked around at the craft’s interior. He placed the scepter back into the diamond-shaped hole and activated its power. The small craft remained dark and unresponsive. Looking back up to Poseidon, he said simply, “One crisis at a time.”

Poseidon only nodded.

Nuuk, Greenland

Present day…

Hans Egede Hotel

Technicians scrambled to run the last minute wiring, connecting lighting and sound to their control panels. News men and women from around the world crowded into the small conference room and waited for them to finish. As they mingled amongst themselves and discussed the new archeological find, the air was electrified with excitement, reminiscent of the previous Atlantis discovery years before.

Javier Arista, the lead archeologist in charge of excavating Zeus’ great golden pyramid, paced nervously in a nearby room, reserved for his use prior to the conference. He walked to
a large floor-to-ceiling window of the cramped hotel room and stared down at the busy main street that ran through town. Just a few days before, the small city of Nuuk seem lazy and quiet. Now, with world attention, the city’s population swelled to more than double in size, changing the city’s appearance overnight.

As he watched the activity in the streets below, he caught his reflection in the window. He stood back and stared momentarily at his appearance. At five foot five, balding and slightly overweight, his late-fifties stature seemed unassuming and nothing like the Indiana Jones stereotype one would picture from someone of his accomplishments. He reached up and straightened his tie. Studying it further, he tightened the triangular knot, making it small and more respectable. He nodded and turned toward the bed.

“How’s my tie? Not too pretentious, is it?” he asked.

Jack Roberts sat at the edge of the bed and s
tared up at Javier. Dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, his fashion sense was far apart from the sophisticated look of his friend.

“The knot’s too small. Makes your head look huge,” Jack responded dryly.

Shock spread across Javier’s face. He quickly rushed to the mirror that hung above a low bureau. He moved the knot slightly, expanding its width.

“Javi, I was just kidding. The knot looks fine,” Jack blurted humorously. “Would you relax? You’ve been through these things a hundred times before. What are you all nervous about?”

Now straightening his suit jacket, he said, “Jack, I don’t think you understand. We’re going to be announcing to the world that we’re looking for an alien spacecraft. We need to look respectable.”

“Javi, after our discovery of Zeus and Poseidon, the world knows aliens exist. We’ve proved it already. I don’t see what the problem is.”

“The problem is, we really don’t have any hard evidence that they were extraterrestrials. Sure, we have the pyramids and some hieroglyphics that suggest they were alien, but that’s really based on our say so. We’ve told the world what our interpretation of that evidence is and most believe us.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“The problem is, there’s a large group of people out there that’s questioning our interpretation. They think we’re crack pots,” Javi responded in nervous tone.

“Yeah, so. There will always be the skeptics out there that’ll pick apart everything you say. You just can’t worry about them. In fact, you’re the one
who gave me that exact advice, years ago,” Jack recalled.

“That’s true, but the group of skeptics is growing larger and more vocal and now we’re going to go on worldwide TV and claim we’ll be searching for an alien spaceship. Do you know how crazy that sounds?”

“Like I said, you can’t worry about the skeptics,” Jack repeated. “Besides, once we find the spaceship, that’ll put an end to the skepticism once and for all.”

“In the meantime, it doesn’t hurt to
appear credible,” Javi responded.

Jack stood up and looked in the mirror. Standing next to Javi, his six foot two, muscular frame towered above him. He grinned at his casual attire, versus Javi’s business-like style of dress. He glanced down at his untucked shirt. He gruffly tucked
it into his paints, then ran his finger through his brown wavy hair.

“There, all respectable now,” he joked.

Javi glared, unimpressed.

Minutes later, they received word that the technicians were ready. They exited their room and took their positions in front of the cameras. Javi smiled for the sea of news people, then began to speak:

“Good Afternoon, thank you for coming. I’m Javier Arista and this is my associate, Jack Roberts. As you already know, three years ago, we discovered one of the greatest archeological finds of our time: the discovery of Poseidon and the great city of Atlantis. More recently, we unearthed another great find: Zeus’ golden pyramid containing his remains and his great scepter.  Since then, after careful study and translation of the many walls of hieroglyphics, we are now on the brink of yet another great discovery.”

He paused a moment for effect, then continued:

“As you probably heard reported months ago, Poseidon and Zeus were not of this world. They were in fact, extraterrestrial. We now believe we’ve discovered evidence that their spacecraft is buried somewhere here on Greenland.”

A gasp came over the crowd. Questions suddenly burst from the media’s lips.

“Mr. Arista, have you actually found this spacecraft,” one reporter shouted.

“Do you have any idea of where the ship might be?” one man yelled over
the other.

Javi raised his hands to settle the crow
d and answered:

“We haven’t found the alien spacecraft as of yet, but all indications point to its location being somewhere around the Nord vicinity, along the northern coastline
near the golden pyramid. We hope to begin our search immediately.”

“Mr. Arista, you say ‘all indications point to Nord’. That sounds awfully vague. Could you be more specific?”
a reporter asked.

“Absolutely. At the bottom of the golden pyramid sits Zeus’ burial chamber.
Inside, a wall contains hieroglyphics that described their landing. It appears they lost engine power and were able to land safely on a beach.”

“On a beach?
What makes you think it’s still there? After seven thousand years, isn’t it possible the tide could’ve washed it out to sea?” one reporter challenged.

“Anything’s possible, but we’ve studied this topic in detail and the experts we consulted agree that most ships that wreck near land, rarely move far from their wreck site. We feel confident the spacecraft over time simply sunk into the sand.”

“Mr. Arista, have you found any indication to why they were even here in the first place?” a reporter asked.

Javi shook his head.
“To date, their story remains elusive. We’re hoping after we find the spacecraft, there’ll be some kind of logbook that describes the nature of their journey. Until then, we can only speculate,” he said.

“Mr. Arista, what about their planet: Arae. Is there any more news about it? Are you closer to pinpointing its location?”
another reporter shouted.

The room became quiet. All eyes stared at Javi with anticipation.

“Unfortunately, no. The celestial diagram we found depicting its location seems to be more symbolic than astronomic.”

For the next half hour, Javi and Jack both answered questions from the gallery of reporters. With the close of the session, the two headed back to their hotel room and discussed their future expedition.

“What time does the flight leave?” Jack asked.

“Six-thirty a.m.,” Javi responded matter-of-factly.

“Back to the grind. This is the part I hate,” he added.

“I know… long hours in an aircraft spen
t staring at nothing,” Javi concurred. “At least we’ll be able to cover the search area a lot faster this time around.”

“Why is that? Faster helicopter?” he asked.

“Faster aircraft,” Javi shot back. “The Royal Danish Air Force is sending over a Hercules C-130 turboprop airplane.”

“An airplane? Isn’t that a little fast for our search?”
Jack questioned.

“Not according to them. They claim it has the same capabilities as the helicopter, only it flies faster… meaning it shouldn’t take us
so long to find the spacecraft,” he replied.

Jack nodded, then considered his own piloting skills.

“You know, I wonder if they’d let me fly it once we’re up there,” he speculated.

“How long has it been since you last flown?” he asked suspiciously.

Jack’s eyes shifted uncomfortably, then replied, “About a year. I kind of got a little distracted with the search for Zeus.” He paused a moment, then added, “But flying a plane is like riding a bicycle: once you learn, you never forget.”

----- ----- ----- -----

Nord Station airport

Northeast Greenland

The following day…

Javi and Jack stood inside the small airport building and watched as the Hercules C-130 touched down on the snow covered runway. The sight of the military plane marked the beginning of their new adventure and their stomachs churned with excitement. Minutes later, with the plane parked and a mobile ladder affixed to the cabin door, they watched a middle-aged man step outside the aircraft and head down the stairs.

As he walked toward the building, Javi and Jack smiled at the pilot’s carefree gate. He entered the building and removed his olive-drab military parka. Seeing Javi and Jack, he beamed a great smile and headed for them, his hand stretched out in front of him in greeting.

“I’m
Colonel Steven Sladaritz of the Royal Danish Air Force,” he said with a great toothy smile. He shook both men’s hands, then joked, “I’ll be your personal taxi driver for the next few weeks.”

Jack studied the man before him, then shot back a great smile. Colonel Sladaritz stood in at just under six feet tall, with slightly-graying brown hair. Although he carried himself with a carefree persona, Jack could see a confidence in him that left little doubt about his skills as an aviator.

“I’m Jack Roberts,” he said. Pointing to Javi, he continued, “and this is my esteemed colleague Javier Arista.”

Javi smiled cordially. “Please Colonel, call me Javi. Only my wife calls
me Javier.”

“Great to meet the both of you… and please call me Slatz.”

“Slatz? I’m betting there’s a story behind that nickname, huh?” Jack remarked.

“Indeed there is,” he grinned. “In my early days of flying, I was a bit rambunctious. Even though the Air Force was quite regimented, I found frequent opportunities to “enjoy” myself… if you know what I mean,” he said, raising his eye brows cryptically.

Jack smiled in understanding.

“Many times after a mission was complete, I’d perform a barrel role during the landing or a high-speed low-pass for the boys on the ground. It was all in good fun. Unfortunately, during those earlier years, we were commanded by a stodgy old brigadier general who for some reason, found my performances, shall I say, less than entertaining. Whenever he caught me in the act, he would shout my name over the radio. At times, he became so enraged, he could barely pronounce it.”

He grinned mildly, then continued:

“One day, I pulled an
seven-G climb on takeoff. The minute I departed, I pulled the nose back and climb straight up. The old man immediately jumped on his mic and tried shouting my name. Took him three tries before he finally gave up and simply yelled, ‘Slatz’. From that point on, the name stuck. They’ve been calling me it ever since.”

“Not much for regulation, huh?” Javi joked. “Reminds me of someone I know.”

Jack shot Javi a puzzled stare, then blurted, “I
know
you’re not talking about me.”

Javi grinned to the
colonel and asked, “Do you suffer from denial also?”

“A dreadful case of it
, I’m afraid,” he replied proudly.