by Sahara Foley
“But you can zap them away, couldn't you?” she asks, staring intently at me, biting her lip.
“Yeah, but I thought a gunshot would work better. Besides, I like guns.” Damn, how dumb. I'm getting deeper and deeper with each word I utter.
Ruth's jade eyes are unwavering, not giving an inch. “Sure, I remember the airport.”
“Hey, I said I like guns, just don't like to shoot them. Now, get busy on breakfast, kid. I'm really hungry.”
She glides away without saying another word, for which I'm grateful. The way I'm going, making up lame excuses, soon I won't get our names right. As I match steps with Ruth, she's staring at me from the corner of her eye. What's she thinking? Do I want to know bad enough to read her mind and find out? I may not like what I learn. Instead, I head to the boat and switch on the SSB, a single-side band radio, an offshoot of the regular CB radio. Using a FM channel, it's seldom prone to static.
“Yo, the Lodge. Anyone read me? It's Merlin, Dobie, you there?”
Quiet.
“Mr. Merlin, Relman here. I hear you, go ahead.”
“Relman, how are you guys doing there?”
“We were hit pretty hard, sir, but we're okay. Lots of broken glass, one boat sunk. But, the helo's okay. How did you fare?”
“We're fine. No problems here. It sounds as though you got hit with the worst of the storm. Hold on, Relman.” Leaning against the boat, staring at that mocking boot print, I sort through several scenarios in my mind. I have to figure out a plan, fast. “Relman, do you have any new maps of the lake? I'm afraid I left ours out, and they got wet and fell apart.”
“Sir, Commander Dobie has the latest satellite maps of the whole area. Will those do?”
“Will he let me see them?”
“I'll have to ask, but I don't see why not. Why do you need them, sir?”
“Tell Dobie this for me. I need the new maps, and I want him here ASAP, but by boat. I have something I need to discuss with him.”
“Roger, sir, I'll tell him.”
“Relman, how many men do you have at the Lodge?”
“Sir, you know I can't give that information to you over the radio.”
“Listen, just say yes or no. More than ten?”
“Yes.”
“More than twenty?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, that's fine. I'll wait for Dobie to get here. Tell him soonest, got that?”
“Roger, sir, soonest and by boat.”
“Right, Relman, with the maps. Merlin out.”
“Relman out.”
I stride back to the fire-pit, fill my cup with hot water, then add instant coffee.
“Why did you lie? Our maps are fine,” Ruth asks, staring intently at me again.
“Uh, I need new ones, kid, these are pretty old.” More lame bullshit. I'm so fast on my feet today, it's scary.
Changing the subject, Ruth asks, “When can we dive the cavern?” She's busy whipping eggs in a tin cup. Two fish fillets are sizzling away in the frying pan, almost done.
“We can dive later today, after I look at the new maps. Okay?” I pick up a fish fillet with my fork, placing it on my plate.
“I don't think the fish are ready yet,” Ruth says with a quirked brow.
“Sure they are, but those eggs don't look so healthy,” I say with a teasing grin.
“Then, why don't you wait until I finish cooking them? I'm mixing them now, dummy.” She gives me the 'eye roll' that all women seem to know from birth.
After we're done eating, we lounge around, chit chatting about nothing, or anything. Ruth's rambling on about the huge fish she caught. I can't blame her, I remember my first big catch, and it wasn't nearly the size of hers. Around ten o'clock, we start hearing the low rumbling of a boat motor. The boat is still out of sight, but the bay is so quiet we can hear the rumbling sound echoing across the water. The whole area is eerily quiet, with a worn out feeling. The pine trees are drooping, the birds are hiding, and even the smoke from the fire is lifting tiredly into the air. That had been one doozy of a storm.
I mentally focus on the boat. Nothing. Damn it. I concentrate harder, my brows furrowed. There, it's Colly's boat, with Dobie, Tober, Relman and two other men on board. Dobie's men. About twenty minutes later, they finally come into view, and we watch them moving around on deck. Dobie and Relman are using glasses to watch us. Idling down, Colly stops his boat behind ours, where the waters ten-foot deep. Standing on the rolling deck from the waves washing up from behind, he throws me a bow line. I tie off his line to our anchor line.
“How ye all doin'?” he says with a big grin. He seems in a pretty good mood, maybe because it's not his boat that sank.
“We're fine, Colly, but you're not,” I say with a snide smirk. I can't help myself.
Dobie, Tober, and Relman clamber onto our boat from Colly's bigger one. Relman is a little green around the gills, but Tober looks worse, all pasty-faced and sweaty.
“Never did like boats, ever,” the good Doctor complains as he removes his handkerchief, holding it over his mouth. He makes me feel nauseous just looking at him.
“Okay, Merlin, what's going on?” Dobie demands in his usual authoritative manner. “I brought the maps, but they're classified. I didn't want to show them to you, but Dr. Tober convinced me you would probably pop in and abscond with the maps anyway. So, here they are, but they don't leave my sight.” Dobie is the only one, other than Colly, not affected by the long boat ride. Too bad.
“Commander, first I have some unfinished business with Mr. Dewhurst.” Colly starts shuffling his feet, nervously glancing around. “Help me here, Relman,” I say as I open the lid of the live-well.
Relman peers in and exclaims, “Holy Mother of God, look at the size of these bastards, sir.”
Dobie glares at him with a curled lip and wrinkled nose, but I can't fault Relman for his choice of words. I couldn't have said it better myself.
Dragging out the flapping fish, we lay them on the deck for everyone to examine. Colly stands there like a statue, thunderstruck, looking as his brother Godzilla did when I put his lucky piece in a bottle he couldn't break. As I tell him the weight of the fish, and while Ruth recites a blow-by-blow commentary about her monster Northern, Colley's shoulders slump lower and lower.
Straightening his shoulders a tad, he says, “Lord above, sir, the largest Gar Pike ever caught in the Isles is only twenty-seven pounds. This'ns got to be three, four times that'n. And they ain't no arguin', thems the biggest Whites I ever seen. Uh, ye got it on tape, sir?”
Knowing he was going to ask, Ruth hands me the videotape. Holding the tape out to Relman, I say, “Relman, I'm giving this to you and nobody but you runs the tape, or touches it. This film proves we caught the fish and didn't net them, so we won by the rules.” I glance at Colly, who isn't smiling now.
“Mr. Merlin, if'n this tape shows ye catch these fish, then the Devil take me old woman, ye'll be fer gettin' yer money. From all of us.” With a defeated sigh, he starts helping Relman and Dobie's men load the fish into his boat.
“Commander, I'd like you to take a walk up the beach with me.” I help him jump off our boat, along with Tober, then we head up the beach. Ruth stares after us with a puzzled frown, but doesn't follow.
Dobie hands me the maps, and I look them over as we stroll in the sand. “Dobie, is it possible for anyone to walk here from the west?”
“No, Merlin, it's not.”
“You know that for a fact?”
“Certainly, every time the Royal Family decides to holiday here, our Marines have to check the land around the lake. You would sink before you walked very far. Why?” he asks impatiently. He's starting to get upset.
“In a minute,” I assure him. Pointing at the map, I ask, “What do these colors represent?” The map shows lots of red, brown, and blue colors.
“Well, that's classified, but then, so are the maps.” With a heavy sigh and a scowl, he continues, “The red color represents a concentratio
n of iron ore, and the blue color represents magnesium. The brown color represents a magnetic influx, probably caused from the two mineral deposits touching or overlapping. We would've already mined the magnesium, but the deposit is too thin and not profitable. Then again, these colors could represent different types of ores. Now, why?” His hard, brown eyes glare at me. Yep, impatient old Dobie.
“Doctor, can you tell me what else might cause the same color combinations?” I kneel, spreading the map on the sand. Peering down his nose at me, Dobie reluctantly sits next to me, trying not to mess up his expensive suit.
With some huffing and puffing, Tober slowly plants himself on the other side of me. Removing his handkerchief, he wipes the sweat from his brow. “Our nuclear plants radiate blue and brown. The atom smasher is represented by a much bluer color. The similarity of the colors on these maps would be closer to a nuclear plant. That's all I can think of, sir”
“Has your country every tested, or lost a nuclear device near here, Doctor?” I ask quietly, looking over at the line of pine trees, not wanting to meet their puzzled and impatient expressions.
“Good heavens no, sir,” Tober adamantly shakes his head. “We would never test so close to an inhabited area. Why?”
Rubbing my forehead, I kneel there, staring at the sand. “Look, I can't explain this to you yet, but something around here is very strange.” Anticipating an outburst from Dobie, I stop him with a raised hand. “Don't talk. Dobie, just listen first. I can mentally scan large areas, either above or below ground, and never have problems, except near a heavy magnetic influx, a nuclear plant or a nuclear explosion. And even then, it's never a serious problem. But here, right now, I'm having a serious problem.” I shake out a cigarette and light it, blowing out a long stream of smoke. At least they finally seem content to hear me out.
“Ruth assures me this area has been mapped and searched so many times that there isn't anything around here that couldn't have been missed. But I've already found one discrepancy, and you've just given me another. You say there isn't enough magnesium to make it worth mining, yet the satellite map shows an enormous influx. That influx can't just be from the iron ore, at least not this big.” Taking another drag, I continue, “Later today, I'll investigate the other discrepancy. If I find what I'm looking for, I'll let you know.”
Dobie's face is turning red, looking ready to burst if he doesn't speak up pretty soon. He finally sputters, “See here, Merlin, we've known about the magnesium for years. The amount of color on the maps has always been the same.”
“How long have you had a satellite that shows this depth of detail?”
Dobie stares at me with pressed lips, then gives a slight nod. “About six years. Although the latest map is more detailed, and taken, oh, about three years ago. Why?”
“And the influx reads the same?”
“Yes, of course. Now, Merlin, why?”
I rise, flicking my cigarette butt into the water. “When you return to the Lodge, I want you to study every photo taken from your satellites. Go as far back as this influx shows up. This is important, Commander. Can you do that?”
He stares at the Doctor, then at me, then gives another brief nod. “Yes I can have that done, Merlin.”
“No, Commander, don't 'have it 'done.' You, the Doctor, and your team need to do this. And don't tell anyone else about it.” I kneel back down looking at Dobie.
“Okay, I can have the data flown here to us, then we'll go over the maps. What are we looking for?”
I was ready to mentally push him, but I'm relieved when he relented on his own. “Check the magnetic influx. Look for any increase, or decrease, no matter how small. Look for magnetic influxes not caused by natural manifestations. I think you'll find some, Commander.”
“Okay, Merlin. Is that all?”
I was hoping he'd ask. Hold on, Dobie, fun and games time.
“As a matter of fact, no, it's not, so listen carefully. I know you have more than twenty men stationed with you at the Lodge. I want two teams sent out here tonight, each team with two men and each man in a wetsuit. Give each team a high-speed camera, using infrared film, and also star scopes and still cameras. Tell the men not to make any sounds, no vibrations at all, not even a cough, and especially no scraping on the rocks. Deploy one team down the beach about a half mile, and the second team up there in those rocks. Each team has to watch the beach here, from dark till dawn. Now, this is important, Dobie. Bring the two teams out by boat, and come in trolling slowly, like you're fishing, then drop them off in the bay. They'll row to shore in rubber rafts. No sound, no noise, and above all else, no vibrations. Got that?”
If you've ever watched water boil, then you'll have noticed right before it starts boiling, the water in the pot seems to swell, then a bubble breaks loose. Dobie is ready for a bubble now.
“What the hell are you up to, Merlin, er, Mr. Merlin?” he demands. Yep, there's the bubble.
“Commander, just deploy the men here. After you look over the photos and maps, if you don't find something that can't be explained from natural causes, then you can call me a fool, recall your team, and I'll work for you, no questions asked.”
He wants to control me so bad; he grabs my offer like Ruth's Northern took the Walleye. “Okay, Merlin, er, Arthur, we'll go over the photos and maps again and let you know our results. But you're playing a damn funny game.”
I didn't want to tell him, but why not? His neck will be on the block too. I scoot closer, saying quietly, “Gentlemen, I understand how crazy this sounds, because I've been trying to explain what's happening here to myself. I think there's something here, down deep under us, and it's listening to us, right now. Maybe sonar, I'm not sure, but it can feel our vibrations. I don't know whether it can hear us, but I know it's trying.”
Dobie never moves his head, but his eyes rove across the tree line. Tober's eyes just get bigger. I didn't think that was possible. I light another cigarette, and wait, evaluating them. I don't have long to wait.
Tober stammers, looking concerned, “Uh, Merlin, I mean, Arthur, uh, are you feeling all right?”
Dobie says gruffly, “Listen, Arthur, if there's something wrong, you can return with us for a private checkup. No one would need to know.”
Very good, I think, nodding my head, much calmer than expected. “Okay, now listen. What I tell you goes no further than us. Got that?” They glance at each other, then reluctantly nod. “Last night, Ruth and I made love on the beach by the boat.”
Dobie blurts, red-faced, “Oh God, man, all this has thrown you over.”
“Dobie, shut up and listen,” I roar, feeling the psychic energy crackling through my hair, as I try to maintain control.
Dobie's trying to scramble away from me, but sitting in sand makes that difficult.
I hastily look around. Everyone's staring in our direction, but no one, not even Ruth, is coming close. “Well,” I snap, “now everyone here, both above, and below ground heard me, so let's try to keep our voices down from now on, gentlemen. Agreed?” Dobie frantically shakes yes, Tober is frozen again, staring wide-eyed. “Doctor, are you okay?”
“Uh, yes, Arthur, I, um, I'm fine,” he stammers. “Go on, please.”
I cross my legs, looking down, picking up sand and letting it trickle through my fingers. “You already think I'm crazy, but what I'm going to tell you will either convince you, or make you very nervous.” After wiping the sand from my hands, I light another cigarette. “This morning, before Ruth woke up, I went down to the boat. In the sand, in a completed form, were impressions from our bodies, packed down firmly in the wet sand. On top of the impressions from Ruth's lower back and where the sand was packed down the hardest, I found a footprint. A boot to be exact. The footprint could only have been made after we went into the tent last night.” I glance at Dobie then Tober, assessing.
“Do you understand what I'm saying here? Two people came out of those trees last night, walked down to the boat, looked around, then headed back into th
e trees. And they tried to cover their footprints. I never would've noticed the footprints at all except for the one I found in our impressions. Nothing taken, nothing disturbed, and no one around that I could find. I mean, the whole area back there is a big bog, and no one should be able to walk from there to here. Now, what do you have to say?”
Dobie's face shows intense concentration, studying every pore of my facial skin, then the blood vessels in my eyeballs. Tober's reading the map.
Dr. Tober still looking down, asks, “Uh, whether we assume two men were indeed here last night, uh, wherever from, then why should we assume they shall return here tonight? Curiosity?” Now, he does glance at me.
“No, Doctor, for security reasons. They'll have to come back to see what this commotion up here is all about. See what we're up to, and they won't come until all vibrations have stopped, when they know we're asleep.”
“Do you have a theory?” Tober asks with interest.
“Doctor, I'm afraid to tell you right now. But after the maps and photos have been studied, and I know the results, I'll be more inclined to talk, or to apologize to you both. And if I'm wrong, Dobie, as I said, I'll work for you. I'll even get the four men who stay out here tonight so drunk they'll have to be carried to work for three days.”
“Well, then, I guess we'd best get busy on the satellite data, Arthur. I'll call you with the results,” Dobie says dismissively.
“Commander, here is the phone number to our satellite phone. I have a feeling our radio messages are being monitored, but they shouldn't be able to monitor my phone. It's new, and hasn't been used yet, should be safe for at least one call.”
“Uh, yes, quite. Good thinking, Arthur. Come, Doctor, we have much to do.” He climbs to his feet, without my assistance, then brushes himself off. Bending, he helps Tober, then off they go, with Dobie clutching his precious maps. I stop by Ruth as they climb aboard Colly's boat. Dobie gives a small wave, Tober and Relman already below deck.
Colly waves and yells, “Be seein' ye at the Club, sir. If'n the film proves out, I'll be both a payin' ye and gettin' ye drunk.” He waves again, then gets busy with his boat.
