Atlantis: Bermuda Triangle a-2

by Robert Doherty

  “Have you learned anything more?”

  Tam Nok looked up. “I am beginning to understand this old writing.”

  Ragnarok pointed at Loddin’s ship. “There is a man on that boat who might be able to give us more information.”

  Tam Nok gathered the documents and put them back in the tube. She stood next to Ragnarok. “He sails alone?”

  “Yes. His ship is small and one man can handle the sail. If he is becalmed, he sits and waits. He is a strange man but a very good sailor. He knows these seas better than anyone, particularly the icy waters to the north where we are heading.”

  Loddin’s ship was less than two hundred meters away now. It was less than ten meters long by four in width. A man was in the rear, arms wrapped around the tiller. He was a tall man, not quite to Ragnarok’s height, but close. He wore leather pants and long-sleeved leather shirt that was stained black. On the sides of the ship, above the water line, were several long bundles wrapped in heavy canvas, tied with thick rope.

  “What is that?” Tam Nok asked.

  “Bodies. He is called Lika-Loddin, Corpse-Loddin, because he travels the seas searching for the bodies of those who were trapped in the ice the previous winter. He finds them, then boils the flesh off the corpses. He is now on his way back to Norway and then Denmark where he will sell the bodies back to their families so they can receive a proper, if belated burial. If he is here, he has already been to all the settlements along the coast of Iceland.”

  Ragnarok raised his right hand and bellowed a greeting to Loddin, as Hrolf supervised to lowering of the sail. Loddin didn’t yell anything in reply, but he did leave the tiller and lower his sail.

  The two ships glided up to each other and Ragnarok’s crew quickly tied them together.

  “Ragnarok Bloodhand,” Loddin’s voice was low and hoarse, his face weathered and tanned.

  “Lika-Loddin,” Ragnarok extended his hand over the gunwale of his ship to the other.

  Loddin looked at the hand for several seconds, then grasped the forearm in the traditional greeting, his own forearm in Ragnarok’s grip.

  “Are there any supplies you need?” Ragnarok asked.

  Loddin released the grip. “What do you want from me?”

  “I am offering you the hospitality of the high seas,” Ragnarok said.

  Loddin’s face twisted in what might have been grin. “No one offers Corpse-Loddin hospitality without wanting something in return. Are you looking for someone-” he waved his hand at the canvas bags tied to the side of his ship. “I have had a good spring harvesting the ice.”

  “We are traveling far to the north,” Ragnarok said. “Beyond the north tip of Iceland.”

  “Beyond Ginnungagap?”

  “You have seen Ginnungagap?” Ragnarok asked.

  “I have seen many strange things- although she is new-” Loddin pointed at Tam Nok who had pulled her hood down. “Who are you?”

  “She is a Disir,” Ragnarok said. “Her name is Tam Nok.”

  “A Disir?” Loddin gave her a crooked smile. “Do you want to bless the bodies I carry priestess? Insure they move on to a better life? Or have they already moved on? I have often wondered about that and now that I am face to face with a priestess of the gods, I must know- I sell these bodies back to their families so that they can receive a proper burial, but isn’t it already too late?”

  Tam Nok was just staring at the man in the other boat. “I think you know more about that than I do,” she finally said.

  Loddin laughed. “I think I do.”

  “You have seen the Shadow,” Tam Nok said, catching Ragnarok and Loddin by surprise.

  “The Shadow?” Loddin stepped up closer to Ragnarok’s boat. “The darkness on the ocean?”

  Tam Nok nodded.

  “I have seen it. Beyond Ginnungagap. I find many bodies nearby. On the ice. Frozen. Their ship gone. Very strange but good for business.”

  “How can you sail there when they can’t?” Ragnarok asked.

  “He can sense when it is dangerous,” Tam Nok said. “The other’s- they get off their ships because they are being drawn into the Shadow. And they fear it more than they fear being abandoned on the ice.”

  “That is the way it seems to be,” Loddin acknowledged.

  “Vikings afraid?” Ragnarok could sense the unease from his men. Running into Corpse-Loddin wasn’t the best thing for morale even on a normal journey and this one had been anything but normal since they met Tam Nok in the fjord.

  “You have never seen the Shadow,” Loddin simply said. “If my ship was being drawn in-” he shrugged. “It depends. It might be interesting to see what is in the darkness. Some of the things I have seen around it are strange enough.”

  “Like?” Tam Nok prompted.

  “You’re going there,” Loddin said. “Perhaps you will see for yourself.” He turned to Ragnarok. “I need water and salt.”

  Ragnarok ordered Hrolf to get the supplies. Tam Nok started to say something but Ragnarok hushed her. “Show him the map.”

  That perked Loddin’s interest. After the supplies were passed over, Loddin climbed into Ragnarok’s boat and knelt down next to the map Tam Nok laid out on the deck.

  Loddin tapped the metal portion of the map. “Where did you get this?”

  “She brought the paper map with her,” Ragnarok said. “We uncovered the metal part at the place of the large stones in England.”

  “Interesting,” Loddin seemed to be a different man now. “I have seen something like it.”

  “Where?” Tam Nok asked.

  “A monk from Eire Land. Have you ever seen the boats they go to sea in? It’s amazing that they can even float. A wood frame with seal skin stretched over it. Fine for a calm day on the lake, but to dare the ocean in such- they are crazier than I.

  “I was in the southwest part of Eire Land last year. Going back by a different route since I had three bodies of monks from a monastery. I delivered the bodies- the monks did not pay enough for them to make the trip worthwhile- but I did meet an interesting man, the leader of the monastery. He knew I had traveled these oceans many times and he brought me to his chamber. He had a map like that.”

  “Where did he get it?” Tam Nok asked.

  “There is a large stone slab, set on top of several other large stones at an angle-” Loddin used his hands to indicate what he was speaking of. “The locals call it the Druid’s Altar, although the monk told me it would not be beneficial to me to use that name around the monastery. He was an interesting man. Went by the name of Brendan.”

  “He found the map he had under the monument?” Tam Nok pressed.

  “Somewhere among the stones.” Loddin shrugged. “He wasn’t specific about that. But he asked me the same thing you are asking. About the way north of Iceland. And beyond.” He reached down and tapped the metal. “He was very interested in getting across the sea to this large land. I told him I had never been that way.

  “Then he asked about going to the north. Near the Shadow.”

  “What did he know of the Shadow?” Tam Nok asked.

  “Not much,” Loddin said. “He had a map like yours. He wanted to know about there-” the corpse-carrier touched the map at the site of the runes indicating the tunnel.

  “Did he say why?”

  “He is a priest of the Christian faith,” Loddin said. “Maybe he was looking for the hell they preach about. Or the heaven. Who knows?”

  “Who are these Christians?” Ragnarok asked. He knew that the so-called Viking king in Denmark had advisers of that faith urging him to convert. From his recent experience in England, it was obvious those who worshipped this new faith had little tolerance for the older beliefs.

  “They believe there is only one God and one Demon,” Loddin said.

  “Then how do they explain the Valkyrie demonesses, who I have seen with my own eyes?” Ragnarok demanded. “How can there only be one God? Is this one god the god for war and love at the same time?”

  �
��According to Brendan, his god is a god only of love,” Loddin said.

  “Who protects warriors in battle then?” Ragnarok asked.

  “The Christians pray to their one god for everything.”

  Ragnarok snorted. “That makes no sense.”

  Tam Nok spoke up. “Why is this monk interested in the Shadow then?”

  “Because he believes it is something else,” Loddin said.

  “What?” the Khmer priestess demanded.

  “He doesn’t know. That is why he wants to learn more.”

  “Why?” Tam Nok asked. “If he does not believe in the demons and the gods?”

  Loddin ran a hand through his dirty hair. “I asked him that. He said it was important we learn what this Shadow really is. If we think it is the work of Gods then we might not fight it. We might think it beyond our powers. But if we learn it is something else, then we will fight.”

  “Vikings fight the gods,” Ragnarok said.

  “Yes, we do,” Loddin acknowledged, “but most others don’t.” He shrugged. “Really, I think this Brendan is just very curious.”

  “He is traveling there?” Tam Nok asked.

  “Yes.”

  “When?” Tam Nok asked.

  “I passed him two weeks ago. He was heading north-” Loddin pointed at the map. “Going to the same place you want to go.”

  “How many people did he have with him?” Ragnarok asked.

  “A crew of four. His boat is smaller than mine.”

  “Is there a tunnel there?” Tam Nok asked.

  “There is something,” Loddin answered. “If you pass through the fire and ice. You will see a fog bank that does not move. You will feel the evil inside.”

  “But you’ve gone inside,” Tam Nok said.

  “You are a strange woman,” Loddin said. “My supplies are loaded.” He stuck his hand out. Ragnarok took it, but didn’t let go of the other man’s forearm.

  “What is in the fog?”

  “Monsters. The monsters old women tell of late at night to scare children.” His arm was still in Ragnarok’s grip, but he looked to Tam Nok. “I do not know if there is a tunnel in there. I barely got out with my life. I wish you better luck.”

  Chapter 23

  THE PRESENT

  1999 AD

  Captain McCallum stared at the bodies, noting the gunshot wounds that had killed all three. “Get them out of here,” he ordered.

  Sea water dripped out of computer hardware cases and there was still an inch on the floor of the computer systems room.

  “I don’t assume we could get any of this on-line,” McCallum asked Commander Barrington.

  “No, sir. It will all have to be replaced. I think the assumption was that if this chamber ever filled with water, the sub was sunk anyway.”

  “Damn near was,” McCallum said. Seawolf was still on station, in the narrowing band of sea between the Bermuda Triangle gate and the Milwaukee Depth. Normally submariners liked having deep water below them, but the Puerto Rican Trench was a little too deep for McCallum’s peace of mind after their near sinking at the hands of Bateman.

  He watched as two sailors wrapped Captain Bateman’s body in a sheet and strapped it to a stretched. “I wonder if he was trying to warn us,” Bateman said.

  “Warn us?” Barrington repeated.

  “Remember when he first came on board? He told us to be ready to fight without our sophisticated instruments.” McCallum waved his hand around, taking in the now worthless hunks of top-of-the-line computer gear. “We’ve lost pretty much every piece of gear in the ship when the computers went down. But there’s one thing we haven’t lost,” the captain of the Seawolf continued. “We still have the best damn crew in the navy. It’s time we break out the stopwatches and hand-held calculators. I want us to be ready to fight if anything comes out of that gate. Got that XO?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  * * *

  While the navy’s most sophisticated weapons system was being forced to go back to the tools that submariners in World War II used to fight, one of the US Air Force’s most advanced airplanes was almost directly overhead, flying a tight racetrack.

  The Boeing 767 Airborne Warning and Control System was a more advanced version of the venerable E-3 AWACS that had flown hundreds of thousands of surveillance missions for NATO during the Cold War. The most distinctive feature of the plane was the thirty foot wide radome bolted onto the top of the fuselage. Inside was the Northrop Grumman AN/APY-2 radar which rotated six times every minute. Able to read targets over 200 miles in any direction, the AWACS was able to paint a picture of the entire Bermuda Triangle gate.

  Inside the AWACS the crew watched their screens, alert for anything coming out of the gate, while at the same time coordinating the military forces that were converging on the perimeter.

  Scores of fighters and bombers flew air cover around the gate. The aircraft carrier George Washington was on station and had the unique distinction of being the first naval vessel to field an army anti-missile unit on its large deck. Several Patriot missile batteries along with their radar system were chained down on the large expanse of deck, their warning system tied in to the AWACS.

  It was ingenious and also a sign of desperation. The Patriot was one of the biggest failures of the Gulf War while being labeled one of the greatest successes. While American commanders were crowing about 33 launches equaling 33 SCUD kills, the Israelis sent a high ranking diplomat to Washington to claim that at best, the Patriot had a twenty percent success rate. The reality, the Israelis claimed, was that in modifying their SCUD missiles to extend their range, the Iraqis had simply welded in new section of missile to hold the extra fuel. The result was that the vast majority of SCUDs broke up in flight due to poor structural integrity- many of these break-ups were erroneously claimed by optimistic American commanders as successful Patriot intercepts.

  Not only was the Patriot suspect, it had originally been designed as an anti-aircraft system, not an anti-missile system. Even with extensive modifications over the years, even the manufacturer only claimed it was an anti-missile system working against tactical systems, such as the SCUD.

  The Trident was no SCUD and the crews of the Patriot batteries and the crew of the AWACS knew that. The Patriot had a max speed of slightly over MACH 3, or about 2,200 miles an hour. The Trident at max speed was moving at over 16,000 miles an hour- a classic tortoise and hare situation.

  The hope was that if the Wyoming launched a second missile that two fortuitous things could happen. One was that the launch would be close to the Washington. Second was that the launch would be caught early enough for the Patriots to be fired and catch the Trident while it was still accelerating upward.

  It was a plan that fell back on the age-old military theory of throw everything possible’ at the enemy. Not only were the Patriot batteries on board the Washington, but the guns and ship to air missiles of every warship around the gate were oriented inward. Every plane was ready to turn over the gate and engage targets. There was no one among all the military personnel deployed in this operation old enough to have been there, but it was very much the same approach the American navy had used in the latter days in World War II against Japanese kamikaze attacks.

  * * *

  On the other side of the world, Professor Nagoya was caught between loyalties. Foreman wanted the Can oriented full-time toward the Bermuda Triangle gate. Japanese government officials- those in the know at least- were well aware of the Trident launch that had come out of the Atlantic, and they were also aware of the fact that other submarines, two of which carried nuclear missiles or torpedoes, had been lost in their own Devil’s Sea gate.

  They were more concerned with the Pacific Rim, than the Mid-Atlantic Ridge. There were many places where a well-placed nuclear explosion would trigger massive earthquakes with subsequent volcanoes and deadly tsunamis, a threat which Japan was particularly vulnerable to. These officials wanted the Can, which after all was built on Japanese soil with a larg
e dose of Japanese money, to exclusively monitor the Devil’s Sea.

  Nagoya understood both parties’ concerns but he also thought both concerns were mis-directed. The importance of the Can was not to be an early warning system against a threat they could do little about, but rather to study the gates, to try to unlock the secret of what they were and possibly what was on the other side.

  Still, Nagoya had spent enough years working for the government that he knew it best to placate the powers that be. He had the Can switching between the two as quickly as possible, forwarding data to his own military’s headquarters and the Pentagon War Room.

  Meanwhile, he focused on studying the mound of data they had accumulated in the last twenty-four hours.

  At least until the Can picked up a spike of muonic activity on the north edge of the Bermuda Triangle gate.

  * * *

  “We’ve got activity!” Colonel Croner, the supervising officer in the AWACS announced over the intercom. “Coordinates, four-seven-three-six-eight-one. Lock in all weapons’ systems, prepare Patriots for launch on confirmation of Trident.”

  Croner only hoped one missile came out, What everyone was keeping their fingers crossed against was a multiple launch, with the Wyoming clearing all twenty-three remaining missiles in less than two minutes.

  “We have a target coming out of the gate,” a radar operator announced. “Vertical at grid. Signature- a Trident!”

  “All systems engage,” Croner ordered. “Keep your eyes open for a second launch.”

  * * *

  The Trident ICBM was already shedding its first stage rocket as four Patriot missiles roared off the deck of the USS Washington twenty miles to the north on an interception vector.

  At the highest altitude they were capable of maintaining, navy and air force jets were vectored in over the Bermuda Triangle gate toward the path of the upcoming missile.

  It was already too late for any of the surface ships to engage with either their guns or their anti-aircraft missiles and those crews could only watch helplessly the battle on the screens in their operations center.