Time Storm Shockwave

by Juliann Farnsworth

  “Which way do you think we should go?” he asked, motioning to the many choices before them.

  She opened her mouth to answer him, but before she could, a voice from behind them said, “This way.”

  In unison, they turned around. Dierdra stood there, gun in hand, pointing toward one of the hallways.

  Chapter 12

  Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable

  from magic. — Arthur C. Clarke

  ~

  It was now fully dark except for the resplendent light show that the Aurora was creating in the sky. Stewart had lost all hope that they were not in danger. There was no way that Mark would have stayed down there that long without communicating with him. Something must have happened to them. Stewart had been sitting there on the flybridge for several hours chewing on the problem.

  Something had definitely gone wrong. An accident maybe, or possibly Dierdra had found them. After all, it was something down there she didn’t want them to find. However, the second option seemed out of the question. He had been on the lookout almost the entire time, and there had been no other boats.

  Even when he hadn’t been up top, the proximity alarm would have gone off if any other vessel had approached. Maybe the sharks had eaten them, possible, but unlikely. Mark had informed him that no one had ever been killed by a lemon shark, a few rare attacks. Maybe Dierdra has a submarine. He only considered that for a moment before deciding it was ludicrous.

  He thought about Ashlyn’s practically instantaneous decision to light fires on the water to find Mark. Stewart would have never thought of anything like that so fast, or even at all.

  Maybe they can’t find the ship in the dark. No, not possible, I have it lit up like a Christmas tree. Maybe I should call the coast guard. No, Ashlyn said there was a navy admiral involved—the coast guard might be in on it. I’m getting paranoid, but then who wouldn’t be after what has happened. I probably couldn’t reach them anyway; nobody can reach the United States. Wait, I’m not in American water. I don’t even know what country has jurisdiction here.

  His mind whirled round and round in a mish mash of disjointed ideas; he simply couldn’t make a decision. In the end, he settled on staying up there on the flybridge and hoping for a miracle. He went downstairs and got himself a blanket and pillow then went back up, though he doubted he would be able to sleep.

  ***

  Ashlyn and Mark sat together on the floor in a locked room with no furniture. The walls were perfectly white, unpainted, with a glassy surface like the pyramid. They couldn’t see even an outline where the door ought to be, but knew it was there because they had walked through it just before it shut behind them.

  “I’m sorry,” he said apologetically.

  “Why?”

  “I’m the one who wouldn’t leave without exploring the pyramid”—he looked stricken—“you’ve been trying to get me to disappear from the area ever since Dierdra left the yacht.”

  “I shouldn’t have gone off exploring”—she admitted—“I should have stayed with you at the top of the pyramid.”

  “Then we wouldn’t have found”—he looked around—“whatever this is.”

  As if finding this and being locked up in some kind of a cell is a good thing. Thoughts of their exploration ruminated in her head, and she decided to come clean. “I didn’t really leave you to search for something more important. I mean, I told myself that it was because I thought you were looking in the wrong place, but that wasn’t my real motivation.”

  He eyed her curiously, but when she didn’t continue, he spoke, “So what was your real reason?”

  She looked around, clearly not wanting to answer, and then down at her hands. “I was jealous.”

  “What?—” He laughed “—who in the world could you be jealous of?”

  She met his eyes. “Not who—” she hesitated “—what …I was jealous of the …well, this stupid pyramid, alright.”

  “I guess I did give you some reason”—he admitted to himself aloud—“I’m sorry, truly. This is not an excuse, simply an explanation. I tend to get lost in my work. You know, I’m the absent-minded professor type. I get so excited about it that I just forget everything.”

  “I know”—she was fumbling with her hands—“you didn’t do anything wrong. Your passion for your work is one of the things I love about you. That’s the problem, again …I just …well, it’s like I said before, I haven’t been in love before and I don’t know how to deal with these irrational feelings.”

  “Loving someone is scary for everyone you know.”

  “Not you,” she argued.

  “Trust me”—he said—“I’m terrified.”

  She looked into his eyes, not certain that he was telling her the truth. “I love you.” She leaned her head against his shoulder.

  He kissed the top of her disheveled hair, and spoke gently, “I love you too.”

  Freezing, and with no dry clothes to change into, they opted to stay in their wetsuits. The floor was hard, and it turned out to be a long, miserable night. However, being in his arms made everything bearable. I never want to be alone again. She prayed that she wouldn’t have to be.

  ***

  Stewart had finally fallen asleep, though he didn’t know what time it had been. When he woke to the bright sunlight of the morning, he felt nothing but despair. He tried the comm. system again with no luck, and then looked around through the crystal-clear water in the vain hope of seeing either one of them, but he saw no one.

  ***

  Down below, Mark and Ashlyn had managed to make it through the long night, but that offered little comfort considering the circumstances. Mark looked at his dive watch and realized that it was finally morning just as the invisible door magically slid open. A man entered the room; he was wearing blue and gray colored fatigues. He had a tray with some food and some orange colored jumpsuits for them to change into. He said nothing, then left, the door once again blending into the wall.

  Mark glanced at her, surprised. “Not quite a five star hotel—” he stood up to get out of his wet suit “—I’m not sure why they haven’t killed us yet, but I’m glad for the food and dry clothes.”

  “I have no idea why they haven’t killed us either. Dierdra must not be the one in command around here—” Ashlyn scowled “—I wish they would have given these to us last night. Maybe they are trying to break us, like Chinese water torture, only in our case it’s wetsuit torture.”

  “No kidding—” they both laughed before he added “—that man was definitely navy.”

  “How do you know,” she asked.

  “The color of his fatigues—” he zipped up his jumpsuit “—speaking of color, blue is not mine.”

  “Why Mark, I didn’t know you were so fashion conscious.”

  “Oh, I have loads of secrets you have yet to discover—” he grinned “—I guess you will have to stick around if you want to find them out.”

  “Hopefully, we will be alive long enough,” she stated wryly.

  He took a deep breath and said, “I certainly hope so.”

  Once they had changed into dry clothes, they ate their food quickly, not having eaten since the afternoon the day before. They avoided speaking of Stewart; nothing could be done. Talking about him would have only made the unbearable situation worse.

  ***

  Stewart went into the galley and sorrowfully made breakfast for himself. He didn’t feel hungry, but logic told him that he should eat, in case he finally figured out what was going on and had to act quickly. After his forced nutrition, he sat down in utter despair.

  ***

  At least an hour had passed since the food and clothing had been brought to Mark and Ashlyn. Again, the door opened. The same crewman entered and told them to follow him.

  Mark leaned over and whispered to her, “Maybe that was supposed to have been our last meal.”

  She rolled her eyes at his corny attempt at humor. Surprisingly, it did raise her spirits just a
bit. They followed the bluejacket down a long corridor but lost all sense of direction. His diving watch had a compass, but it was spinning hopelessly. The sailor led them into a large office. The modern furniture was wholly out of place within the ancient pyramid. A man in a Navy admiral’s uniform sat at the desk. He had a grim expression on his face but smiled slightly, exposing a gold canine. “Hello, Ashlyn.”

  She recognized him, but pretended not to. “I believe that you have me at a disadvantage sir.”

  “Preston—” he gave her a nauseating smile “—Admiral George Preston.” His voice was hoarse from years of smoking too many cigarettes.

  ***

  Still going crazy trying to figure out what to do, Stewart considered going to look for them, except that Mark and Ashlyn had the only two working rebreather systems. Then an idea finally presented itself. Why didn’t I think of this before? Stewart remembered seeing some regular scuba gear in the engine room somewhere—they just never used it.

  He ran down the stairs and searched until he found it. The oxygen tank wouldn’t last as long as a rebreather, but it would do. It didn’t take him long to be ready once he had decided. He went to the lower landing behind the aft deck and did the standard fall back into the water.

  He quickly made his way down to the tip of the pyramid, past the sharks, which were again circling. He had to force himself not to hyperventilate. He had thought he was afraid before, but now that he was alone, it was far worse. He followed the directions that he remembered hearing Ashlyn give Mark right before they lost contact.

  Stewart looked down the side of what seemed to be a steep cliff. He felt dizzy and nauseous. This would have terrified him on a good day, but he could not allow himself to panic, or even worse vomit down here or he would die. He forced himself forward because the madness of not knowing had become far worse than his fear. He had taken a rope with him. Buoyancy had been an issue for Mark and Ashlyn, and Stewart didn’t want to have to drop his weights. However, he had weighted his belt for one hundred and seventy-five feet. The rope was simply added insurance. He allowed himself to sink. It didn’t take him long to find the cave that they had described.

  He swam in and suddenly understood why Ashlyn had been so excited. It was clearly an entrance to the pyramid above. He took notice of the two weight-belts that lay at the bottom of the angled, small, tunnel-like entrance. He dropped his belt next to theirs and headed up the shaft. When he lifted his head out of the small pool, into the air-filled room, he was as shocked as they had been. However, unlike their experience, he saw an open hallway. He pulled off his tank, flippers, and facemask then quickly headed down the corridor. He was beginning to feel hopeful.

  Their radios must not have been able to penetrate the walls of the pyramid. The only question remaining was why they hadn’t come back, then it all made sense. Dierdra must be down here. Stewart felt certain that they would have come back if it were possible, which meant that they were either prisoners or dead. Now he wished that he had brought Ashlyn’s gun.

  ***

  The admiral’s near hospitality left Ashlyn dumbfounded. It made no sense at all. She hadn’t seen Dierdra since their initial run in, but Ashlyn was sure this “nice” treatment had not been her idea.

  “The last thing I heard from Dierdra is that you wanted us dead,” Ashlyn stated accusingly.

  “Now why would I want that? —” he said with his raspy voice “—you’re a very valuable asset. I admit I was upset when you blew up our facility and killed one of my best scientists, but I’m over that now. I am a very forgiving man.”

  Skeptically, she asked, “Why did you send Dierdra after Mark?”

  “Obviously, I didn’t want him to find this pyramid.”

  “So why don’t you kill him now?”

  Mark shot Ashlyn a glance that said—please don’t suggest that.

  “Circumstances change—” the admiral stated succinctly “—I lost a lot of good people in the disasters, even my right hand man. I’m in need of a few people with …shall we say, special talents.”

  He was clearly referring to Mark. “I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

  Mark eyed her strangely.

  “You don’t think he has talents?—” The admiral was toying with her “—from what I heard, the two of you are quite close. You must think that he has some value.”

  “Of course I do”—she rolled her eyes—“I meant, what do you want with him? I’m reasonably sure that you understood that in the first place, so let’s stop playing games, shall we?”

  The admiral stood up and walked around his desk, lessening the distance between them. Ashlyn’s skin crawled, and an involuntary shudder ran through her.

  “He found this place, didn’t he?”

  Actually, I did, she thought but didn’t answer.

  “He’s also a brilliant scientist, two doctorates, correct?” The question was aimed at Mark, who nodded in the affirmative.

  Ashlyn glanced at him. He looks as if he is handling this all right. She was used to people trying to kill her and always having to be on guard, but she doubted that he had many enemies.

  She probed for more information, “What has changed in the last two days?”

  “I told you, the disasters changed our circumstances dramatically.”

  “What disasters are you referring to?”

  The admiral gawked at Ashlyn, then at Mark, clearly surprised by their ignorance. “Of course, you have been out at sea with no contact from the outside world. I’m speaking of the virtual destruction of the better part of North America.”

  Mark flashed her a sideways glance. Certainly, he was thinking the same thing she was. That explains the EMP and the loss of communication. However, she didn’t want to volunteer any more information than absolutely necessary.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “NASA informed the government and the military of an incoming CME the day before it hit. It was the largest on record.

  She gave Mark a questioning look.

  “A coronal mass ejection”—he answered her unspoken question—“is similar to a solar flare except for that a part of the sun’s plasma explodes out into space, rather than just energy.”

  The admiral continued, “The Earth was directly in its line of fire. We knew that the tremendous size and direction would spell unprecedented disaster for the world. The public wasn’t told because it would have only caused panic.”

  “So I’m guessing the outcome was as bad as NASA feared?” Mark asked.

  “Much worse, I’m afraid”—the admiral answered—“luckily, those of us down here remained unaffected.”

  The admiral told them of the concurrence of other disasters and the domino effect that it had created. After describing the hellish scenario, he motioned for them to follow him and walked out of the room.

  This can’t be true. She looked to Mark for reassurance, but he appeared to be as stricken as she felt. The EMP was real enough.

  He took her by the hand, and they followed a little behind the admiral.

  “Do you think it’s all as bad as he says?” she asked Mark quietly.

  “I hope not,” was all he said.

  The admiral took them to an enormous room with only three walls, and then the opening closed into a wall behind them. After a moment or two, the opposite wall opened, and they walked out onto what looked something like an airplane landing strip with lights on both sides. Far off in the distance, to the left and to the right they could see enormous towers, which had red, blinking lights at the top of each. The actual distance was impossible to gage in the near darkness.

  Ashlyn was more confused than ever. She made eye contact with Mark, but it was clear that he had no answers.

  The admiral directed them to the back seat of a golf cart with their own personal driver. They hesitantly climbed on. Nothing made sense at all. The admiral stayed behind.

  They traveled for a few minutes in silence and then Mark laughed softly and had an
odd grin on his face.

  She turned to him and furrowed her brow. “What about this situation do you think is funny?” she asked. He must be cracking up under the stress.

  “I’m sorry”—he pulled himself together—“I suddenly thought of the Wonkavator. We must have gone up and sideways too. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

  “Wonkavator?—” she asked bewildered “—what is that?”

  “You know, from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.”

  She eyed him strangely, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He cocked his head, and then said, “I forgot, you didn’t get out much in your childhood. It was a movie. There was a large glass elevator, which went in every direction.”

  “You think that was an elevator?” she asked.

  “I don’t see what else it could have been. We must be at one of the AUTEC bases on Andros Island, but I can’t figure out how we got here,” he said quietly a few minutes later.

  “What’s that?”

  “A military base.”

  He looked up at the sky, and then down at his watch. He flicked it a couple of times and then said, “Look at your watch.”

  Her watch read 10:00. I’ve really lost track of time.

  Mark showed her his, which was in military time and then she understood. It was 10:00 am., not pm. She stared up at the darkened above.

  She leaned over, “Do you think we’ve gone through another time travel thingy.”

  He started humming the Twilight-Zone theme song. She didn’t get the reference again. He put his arm around her and smiled.

  She shook her head and rolled her eyes. He has definitely lost it, but then so have I.

  ***

  Mark and Ashlyn had traveled for nearly twenty minutes in silence. Even though the cart was only moving twenty-five miles per hour, he would have expected to see some kind of buildings. Of course, it was too dark to see very far. His compass had inexplicably begun to function again. They were traveling southwest, but he wouldn’t have bet his life on it. They had sat quietly during most of the drive, too lost in thought.