Aegis Incursion

by S. S. Segran

  It was nearly three-thirty in the morning when Aari rang them back. “I may have found what you’re looking for. It’s in the southeast quadrant, too. Turns out there were three homes sold, not two. There was a change of utility accounts but nothing for that location on any realtor database. It must have been a private sale just like you said, Jag.” He recited the address and Mariah wrote it down on a small piece of paper.

  “You are magnificent, El Hacker,” Kody cooed.

  “Shut that pie hole of yours, Captain Knucklehead.”

  “How rude. But as you wish, Colonel Dweeb.”

  “Dweeb? You better watch it, Lieutenant Lint-Licker.”

  “Or what, Sergeant Smart—”

  “That’s enough,” Mariah cut in, giggling.

  “Great job, Aari,” Jag added.

  Aari laughed. “What? For the insults? I could have done way better but it’s late and I’m really tired.”

  Mariah blew a raspberry. “No, you dunce. For finding the house. We’ll go check it out.”

  “Yeah, no problem. Good luck, guys. And be safe.”

  “Thanks.” Jag smiled as he hung up and typed the address into his phone.

  The trip to the southeast corner of town took only a few minutes. Jag let the pickup roll to a stop a few houses away from the address Aari had given them. They got out and stealthily made their way over to an old, pale blue building. It was the last house on the street, at the very edge of town, and surrounded by a new, high-privacy fence with a securely padlocked gate.

  Kody reported that he could hear nothing from within the property. Jag peered through the gate and the other two joined him, doing the best they could to remain unseen by any watchers inside.

  Kody informed them that the place was wired with cameras. “They’re really small, like a Wrigley’s gum pack, but they’re there. Surveillance cameras the size of spy cams.”

  Jag felt fierce satisfaction. “We’re in the right place, then.”

  “Well done, fellas,” Mariah commended. “Good teamwork.”

  “That garage beside the house looks pretty darn new,” Kody said, keeping his voice down. “Why would they get a completely new garage and fence but do nothing to the house?”

  “Better question is, why is there a chimney sticking out of the roof of the garage?” Mariah asked. She was right. A slim, cylindrical steel chimney poked out from the back of the small building.

  “The rain cap looks funny,” Kody stated, pointing at the odd-shaped cone at the top of the chimney. He moved back from the fence. “My Spidey senses are tingling.”

  “Same.” Jag scratched under his jaw. “Should we wait in the truck to see if the swarm comes back?”

  “It’s nice and cool out here,” Mariah said, then walked across the street and plopped down on a patch of grass under a tree. “I vote we sit and wait.”

  The boys sat down beside her. Jag picked up a twig and poked it at the ground. “You know, I thought we’d be sleepy by now.”

  Mariah stretched out one leg with the other tucked under it. “It’s hard to be tired when we’re so close to finding the thing we’ve been looking for.”

  An hour later, Jag saw Kody sit up, back straight as an arrow. “I see them,” he said.

  Jag and Mariah crept over to the gate, again keeping out of sight, and peered through while Kody kept his eyes on the swarm. “Yeah, they’re definitely heading this way,” he confirmed. “They’ll be here in a few seconds.”

  Try as they might, Jag and Mariah couldn’t see a thing so Kody narrated what he observed. The nanomites came to a microsecond halt over the garage, then plunged downward in a thin streak into the chimney. Kody nearly yelled out in delight. “We’ve got it!” He held out both his hands and his friends slapped them gleefully.

  “Should we try going in?” Mariah asked.

  “No,” Jag answered. “They probably have more security inside. We should head back to the farm and talk with the others before doing anything.”

  Kody put his arms around them both as the friends walked back to the truck. “Let’s celebrate this excellently successful and sleepless night with an early breakfast!”

  49

  Aari gazed out at the sparkling blue waters of Lake Mead from behind his sunglasses. A soft breeze caressed his face. His fatigue had dissipated the moment Marshall drove into Overton, Nevada half an hour earlier. Impatience and zeal now seized him; he could hardly wait to dive into the depths of the manmade lake in search of Dr. Branson’s canister, which hopefully held the key to preventing a global catastrophe. It didn’t hurt that he would be seeing a B-29 Superfortress that had sunk many decades ago, either.

  “Aari!” Tegan called.

  He found his friend eagerly scrambling around a deserted two-story building that had once been a lakefront resort. With a fishing rod in one hand and a tackle box in the other, he strode up to her as she ran up a set of spiral stairs that ended a couple of feet away from the flat roof. She jumped the small gap without hesitation.

  Aari smiled up at her. “Having fun?”

  “I’m roaming around an abandoned building that would probably be spooky at night,” she answered, looking down at him with a bright face. “Of course I’m having fun!”

  He watched as she danced a little jig on the roof, entertained. “You get happy with the strangest things, you know that?”

  She laughed. “My parents say the same thing.”

  Aari turned back to the lake and saw Marshall walking up the long concrete boat ramp that led to a comically small dock. The Sentry saw Tegan as he approached Aari and waved. Tegan returned the gesture and leapt back onto the stairs to make her way down to them.

  “So can we rent a boat?” she asked.

  Marshall nodded. “I told the two guys who run the marina that we’ll be out for a couple of hours. Why don’t you get down there? I’ll grab the scuba gear.”

  “Sure,” Aari said. He and Tegan walked side-by-side toward the ramp; it was a long walk in the blazing sun. They hopped off the ramp once they reached the end and turned left to make their way to the marina office.

  A man with a beer belly greeted them. “Hello! I take it you’re with that Marshall fella.”

  “We are,” Tegan replied.

  Aari motioned at the two red-and-white speedboats that were tied up at a dock. “Had a lot of people come by today?”

  The man’s mustache quivered as he gave an awkward giggle. “Actually, we only have four boats. Two of them are out on the water now. We don’t really get many people coming to this place since the Echo Bay Resort went out of business.” He pointed at the building Tegan had explored earlier. “My friend and I figured we would lease the marina from them and try to turn that around at the very least, then maybe tackle the resort later. At the rate we’re going, it might take quite some time.”

  Marshall appeared a minute later beside Aari and Tegan. The owner of the marina eyed the scuba gear he was carrying. “Going diving, I see,” he said, then jokingly added, “You’re not gonna pay the old B-29 a visit, are you? Park rangers won’t take much of a liking if you do.”

  “Nah,” Marshall said. “There are other interesting dive sites. Plus, we’ve got some fishing to do.”

  The man relaxed. “Only one person diving today?”

  “Um, yeah,” Aari said. “Me.”

  “I’m not particularly fond of being deep underwater,” Tegan told the man, blushing. “I don’t like relying on a can of compressed air to keep me alive.”

  The man’s beer belly jiggled as he chuckled. “Fair enough.” He showed the three to their boat and wished them well before heading back to the office.

  Aari put the fishing equipment down as Marshall stowed the scuba gear, then stopped the Sentry. “I don’t get it. You said you’re going down to the wreck, too. Why don’t you have anything other than your dry suit and mask?”

  “You’ll see,” Marshall answered as he and Tegan untied the boat from the dock. He then punched coordinates
into a GPS; he’d explained earlier that he got the location of the wreck site from a diver friend who dove there several times before public access was prohibited.

  Once everything was set to go, the Sentry expertly maneuvered the eighteen-foot craft out of the marina and onto the lake. It would be twenty to thirty minutes before they reached their destination. Marshall pushed the throttle, sending the speedboat flying over the calm surface of the water. Aari stuck his face over the side of the boat, letting the wind and spray from the water keep the heat at bay, before Tegan pulled him back.

  The lake was surrounded by mountains, though some might consider them hills. It was a typical sunbaked Nevada scene and yet Aari found himself loving the atmosphere. Maybe the magic was there because he knew that the lake had held onto its prize—the wreckage of the B-29 bomber—for so long and soon he would be able to see it for himself, see the old plane as it slumbered in the depths of the dark blue water. This is going to be amazing, he thought, tapping his feet impatiently as the boat raced toward the wreck.

  The first thing Aari pointed out when they reached the site was that the buoy and down line they were expecting to tie the boat to were not painted as brightly as was normal.

  “They don’t want it to be an easy find,” Marshall explained. “It’s meant to be off-limits to the public, remember?”

  Tegan was getting the fishing equipment ready; she was to remain on the boat and act as if she were fishing while the other two went for their dive. “Why don’t they just remove it, then?” she asked.

  Marshall shrugged and turned off the engine so he could secure the boat to the buoy. “It’s a permanent setup. They don’t want boaters dropping anchors and damaging the plane. Aari, you ready?”

  Aari laid out his diving gear and suited up. After donning his own suit, Marshall helped him adjust his regulator and face mask. Aari and Tegan spent a few minutes testing the underwater transceiver that would let them communicate with each other during the dive.

  “The plane used to be over two hundred feet below the surface,” the Sentry said. “But the lake’s water level dropped over the years so it’s around a hundred feet below us right now, which means what we’re doing can be classified as a recreational dive. After you reach the bottom on the main down line, there’s another line to the wreck itself. You’ll only have fifteen minutes of air before you need to head up and do your decompression stops. Remember, when you come up, stop at the fifty-foot mark for two minutes, then go to forty feet and stay there for one minute. Thirty feet, one minute. Twenty feet, two minutes. Ten feet, two to five minutes. Got it?”

  Aari recited the stages back to Marshall. When the Sentry was content, he passed Aari a powerful HID light and gave him a pat on the back. “You’re good. Head in.”

  “What about you?” Aari asked.

  Marshall put his flippers on, then fitted a scuba mask that only covered his eyes. “Right. About that. I’m gonna jump in after you. I’ll look like I’m drowning for a bit—which I will be—but don’t worry. Now go.”

  Aari was flustered by the Sentry’s words but was gently pushed into the lake before he could say anything. He bobbed for a bit, getting himself used to the water, then dove. He saw right away that there were two hefty-looking concrete blocks that anchored the main down line.

  A muffled splash made him look to his right. Marshall was now in the water beside him. The Sentry pinched his thumb and forefinger together in an ‘OK’ sign. He paused for a bit—then inhaled deeply. Aari watched in shock as the Sentry took in as much water through his nose as he could. He started to swim over but the man waved him away. He’s filling his lungs with water! What is he doing?

  Marshall’s body went limp as he lost consciousness and began sinking. Aari switched on his light, kicked his flippers and went after the Sentry. Just before he reached Marshall, the man’s body jerked and his eyes opened. He moved each limb in turn, then nodded at Aari. The teenager looked at him wide-eyed, unable to comprehend what he’d just witnessed. By all accounts, Marshall shouldn’t be alive. Yet here he was, leading the way into the depths as if nothing had happened.

  Though still shaken by what he’d witnessed, a thrill pulsed through Aari when he saw the tail of the B-29 appear ahead of him. He swam after Marshall, following the smaller line that led from the massive concrete anchor of the down line to a metal stake beside the tail of the old plane.

  He scanned the decades-old aircraft with a degree of reverence. The fabric-covered control surfaces of the plane would be delicate, so he kept clear of them. They already looked to have been damaged by previous divers who’d either touched or stood on them.

  Looking away from the wreck, Aari spotted an oxygen cylinder that sat on the lake’s muddy floor, a sign that the plane had been fitted for high-altitude work. Even though they were here to retrieve the anti-nanomite, Aari wished he’d brought a waterproof camera along.

  Tegan’s voice filled Aari’s ear. “Hey, Aari, I see a boat . . . ”

  “How far is it?” he asked. “Is it a park ranger? Is it heading toward you?”

  “I don’t think so. It looks like some locals.”

  “Just keep fishing. Let me know if they come closer.”

  “Sure.”

  Aari and Marshall headed to the nose of the aircraft; Aari could see jets of bubbles occasionally escaping from Marshall’s nostrils before the Sentry inhaled again. Is he sustaining himself on dissolved oxygen molecules in the water?

  They noticed that there was only one engine left on the plane, its propeller blades bent from the force of the impact with the lake. It was massive and covered in silt, as was the rest of the aircraft. At the cockpit, they found the pilot’s window missing. Aari gestured at the opening. Marshall tapped his temple with a finger, signing to keep this area in mind as an option for entry, then swam around to the front of the plane. The aircraft’s nose was heavily damaged, a second possible entrance.

  Aari stayed near the Sentry as they did a complete lap around the plane. The co-pilot’s window was also knocked out and there was a tear by the tail, but it wasn’t large enough for them to swim through.

  “Aari, the boaters are heading this way,” Tegan warned through his earpiece.

  “We’re not inside the plane yet!”

  “They better not stop to ask me questions, then.”

  “Keep fishing, Teegs. Make them believe you’re alone.”

  “I’ll try . . . Hopefully they buy it. Will let you know.”

  Aari and Marshall headed back to the pilot’s escape hatch. The hatch itself was broken off, leaving just the stump of a hinge. The Sentry, muscled as he was, nimbly swam through the access, careful not to touch the corroded frame around the opening. Aari made his own entry more cautiously, cringing as he felt his air tank lightly scrape the top of the hatch frame. Hoping he hadn’t done too much damage, he eased the rest of his body through.

  There were two parachutes lying in the cockpit and, strangely, a pair of pants as well. The pilot’s seat was mostly concealed under a thick layer of deposit, as was almost everything else. The co-pilot’s controls were totaled but the instruments seemed relatively unscathed. Aari and Marshall swam carefully to avoid stirring up silt and compromising their visibility.

  The two continued their search for the box containing the canister with the anti-nanomite. Josh had been certain it would be somewhere in the crew compartment in the aft section of the plane, so they began working their way in that direction. Aari swung his flashlight around, which made him feel as if he were a police chopper scanning the ground for fugitives. The beam passed over an odd protrusion under some equipment racks in the science station. Optimistic, Aari drew closer to the object. He reached out to wipe the silt off but hesitated. Then, excitement surged through him. Is this it? Is this the box carrying the canister? The container perfectly matched the description Josh had given them. This had to be it. They’d seen nothing else like it in the plane.

  Steadying himself, he lightly wiped the
corner of the object clean. A small cloud of silt disrupted his view as it wafted in front of his face. He waited for it to clear and waved his flashlight at Marshall to get the man’s attention. The Sentry reached his side within moments and tried to open the box but it remained sealed. Aari put his flashlight down and together they managed to pry the top open. An explosion of bubbles and dirt met them, stirring up the water so much that their visibility was gone for a full minute.

  When the murk finally cleared, Aari picked up his flashlight and pointed it into the box. He was wobbly and ready to rejoice, and knew the Sentry was in high spirits as well. They were one step closer to ending the nanomites’ destructive run. The pair peered into the container.

  No! Aari screamed.

  The box was empty. The canister containing the anti-nanomite was nowhere to be seen. Aari stuck his arm into the box and felt around hysterically but it remained empty. He looked at Marshall but the Sentry’s dismayed expression gave him no reassurance.

  It has to be here! This is where it’s supposed to be! Aari spun around and swam back and forth, shining his light around so incoherently it may as well have been a strobe. This can’t be happening! He didn’t care now if he destroyed the wreckage in his panicked search—they needed to find that canister. That was all that mattered.

  Marshall caught Aari and held him firmly by the shoulders. When he was sure he had the teenager’s attention, he pointed to his wristwatch and then upward. Aari’s mood plummeted further. He didn’t want to leave the site but had no other choice unless he wanted to run out of air during his ascent. As he passed Marshall the flashlight, the Sentry assured him through a series of hand signals that he would comb through the plane for a while longer.

  Unenthused, Aari swam out of the B-29 and began his ascent. In his preoccupied state, he nearly forgot to make his decompression stops. As he halted at his first break, he heard Tegan’s voice in his ear once again, this time sounding distressed.

  “The locals on the boat stopped and asked me what I was doing, Aari,” she said. “I waved my fishing rod at them but I don’t think they believed I was here on my own.”