Chapter Twelve
The head of security, Steven Rhodes, picked at his food as he sat across from his boss. They were seated at the long table in the formal dining room of the mansion. He was a six-foot-two-inch ex-marine turned private contractor accustomed to giving and following orders with the traditional crew-cut, sandy blond hair, and blue eyes. He preferred to be kept informed by his employers but never demanded. Still, there was much he wished to discuss. Jack’s two cronies were the only ones the boss seemed to trust. However, he told no one more than what he wanted them to know and only when he thought it necessary. As a result, their conversation was guided and guarded. Jack Smith’s lack of trust frustrated Steven.
Steven asked, “Do you think it’s still here?”
“I do. It’s hiding somewhere close. I can feel it.”
Steven smiled. Jack’s actions made him appear a little paranoid. “Any idea what it’s waiting for?”
“How would I know? We’re dealing with an alien intelligence. After it captured me, I didn’t stick around any longer than I had to.”
A lot of what Jack said was beyond belief, and therefore unreliable. Still, Steven played along. “Now Jack, there is no way it can get inside, much less down into the bunker.”
“That is the problem. I need to draw it in, capture the ship, and finish this. I don’t care what happens to the stowaways. I need the ship.”
“Can I ask why?”
Jack replied, “It has something that belongs to me.”
The boss leaned back in his chair and dropped the bone of a steak onto his plate. He carefully weighed how much he should divulge to his security chief. The man had only worked for him for a few months. Nevertheless, Jack had come to trust him. “I need it for the machine.”
“Oh…the machine in the bunker. Just what does that machine do? You have never said.”
The instant frown and critical look told Steven he had asked one question too many.
“Never mind that. Trust me when I say—it will change the world.”
Steven knew better than to dig for more. His boss liked to keep his plans close to his chest. “What do you need me to do?”
Jack looked left and right to verify they were alone, leaned forward, and in a soft voice replied, “Move the guards from outside the front door and station them by the elevator. I think six men inside and six outside. I want you inside. Assign the people outside to posts that are out of sight. Make it look like nobody is guarding the mansion.”
“You think that will bring them in?”
A leer graced the retired politician’s face. He relished the thought of a weighted steel net holding the ship down, “It will come. Once it is inside, the troublesome little invader will not be allowed to leave.”
Jack swiped his hand across the table, clearing the dishes before him and leaned across the table. His voice was so soft that Steven struggled to make out was he was saying. “There will come a time—very soon, I expect—when I will call your cell phone and tell you to round up Malcolm and Michael and meet me somewhere specific.” He gazed intensely into Steven’s eyes, and declared, “When this all comes together, only the four of us will be leaving this island.”
Max heard and saw it all; perched at the other end of the long hardwood table.
****
“There is our window of opportunity,” declared Jim. “While they are all waiting around upstairs, we’ll have the bunker to ourselves.”
Vincent agreed. “The odds of success are acceptable. If there are no unforeseen obstacles.”
Jim and Claire sat in their chairs, watching the video feeds from the outside cameras and discussing the new discoveries. The thought of detection devices in the river channel had occurred to them both. Claire asked what she thought was a fair question. “Can Max scout the tunnel, Vincent? He could see if it’s passable and get us a closer look at the cave.”
“The drone is limited to atmospheric flight only. It is too small and lightweight to navigate a moving stream of water. Also, it has no drive for underwater propulsion.”
Jim already considered this option, and explained why he decided it wouldn’t work, “Can you imagine that little thing trying to swim in a flowing river? It wouldn’t stand a chance. Tell you what though, maybe he can scout the dock area for security measures like sensors, laser beams, and booby traps. If he gets another chance to go down there.”
“I have assigned the drone to Jack Smith. Until he is ordered to do otherwise, Max goes where the target subject goes.”
Jim thought of something else that might help. “Great. Now, do you have enough information to give me a map of the island?”
“We were not here long enough to gather much data before I was damaged. However, I can extrapolate some of what I do not know.”
A three-dimensional holographic representation of Nautilus Island appeared before the two accomplices. There was not much detail, and there were holes where the data was uncertain. Still, the model was a good start.
The hologram had translucent layers that could be individually accessed. Vincent instructed them on manipulating the image, and it soon became apparent a large part of the mansion lacked detail. When Jack went to bed a little after eleven o’clock, Max followed, and the map began to fill in.
The mechanical fly scanned the master bedroom while the master was in the bathroom. When he came out, the drone went in and added more details. When Jack got into bed and turned out the lights, Vincent sent Max out to survey and complete as much of the map as possible.
The second floor held four extravagant bedrooms, each with a private bath. Jack occupied the largest and the rest were empty. A pale green hallway surrounded the elevator and allowed access to the underused rooms. Max went into each one and added the room’s particulars to the second floor of the model.
Downstairs, at the back of the house, Max found the guard’s quarters on the west side. A row of single beds lined one wall of a large banquet hall. Some beds had men sleeping in them, while the rest had blankets thrown back and were empty. The room was surprisingly clean, considering it was occupied by paid mercenaries. A weapons rack faced the beds on one end, with half a dozen assault rifles leaning in their cradles. Six more gun rests were empty. On the other end was a six-foot table, and two empty folding chairs. Two additional seats contained men who were playing a game of cards and talking quietly under the light of a gooseneck lamp.
“What do you think the bosses’ deal is?” asked one.
His companion picked a card from his hand and laid it on the table. “I don’t have a clue. He is a hard one to figure. Some of the things I’ve heard him say makes me think he may be a little bonkers.”
“He should at least tell us what we are supposed to be protecting him from,” said the first.
“He doesn’t feel it’s necessary. Politicians are like that. If you’re not in the inner circle, you are nobody.”
“Kind of weird though—don’t you think?”
“Yeah, he is acting pretty weird.”
They started talking about girlfriends at home and Max was directed to slip out to continue the surveillance. Room by room, the tiny drone managed to get inside and add to the map.
In almost every case, he was able to crawl under the door. If the room were dark, he would use an infrared spectrum, and the view screens would turn a ghostly green. The little drone proved to be a very useful tool.
The three-dimensional island was cut off at the water line, and hanging below were the simple outlines of the holographic elevator shaft leading down to the bunker. The limited information Max had time to gather allowed only a block outline of the cave, platform, and boat dock.
Jim zoomed in on the underground river, and the island above disappeared. “There is not enough detail to see cameras or security equipment. Vincent, do you think we should wait until Max gets down there again before we try the river?”
“I do not wish to delay. Judging by the preventive measures we have seen so far, I w
ould not be surprised if there are cameras in the cavern. However, I doubt the cameras are capable of infra-red and I will be cloaked. If the waterway is navigable and we can make it to the entrance of the shelter, we can use that information to finalize our assault plan.”
Jim yawned, stretched, and looked at Claire. “It’s getting late. We should try and get some sleep.”
She nodded agreement, “I am tired. All this drama is giving me a headache.”
“Are you going to be okay? I could keep you company,” Jim replied with a crooked grin.
A wry smile preceded her answer. “I’ll be okay. I have to be. Tomorrow we go diving, and I plan on enjoying the experience.”
Two panels opened to small rooms with a bed in each. Vincent had heard Claire’s request and prepared separate quarters, although Jim would have preferred a different arrangement. Still, he was an old-fashioned gentleman—and he didn’t want to invade her space unless asked. They retired to their separate compartments to prepare themselves for the big day.
****
The three humans gathered for breakfast aboard the ship and decided on pancakes and real maple syrup. A meal that appealed to everyone. To accompany the food, Adar requested green tea, while Jim asked for coffee and Claire immediately seconded the idea. Vincent made an observation. “I understand that pancakes and syrup can be beneficial to your energy levels. However, distilled coffee beans have no nutritional value, and from what I understand can be detrimental to your health.”
For a few seconds, the two Americans considered what Vincent said. Jim replied for them both, “I am pretty sure that pancakes were designed to go with coffee. It’s a tradition.”
Adar laughed, and almost choked on a mouthful of sticky breakfast. When he recovered, he explained to Vincent, “It is an American thing. Coffee is a part of their culture. They ask so much of themselves that they need a jumpstart of caffeine in the morning.”
After breakfast, Vincent reported the repairs were complete, and Adar became increasingly nervous. “I should go and prepare my diversion. When are you planning to begin your scouting trip to the cave, Jim?”
“Right away. Are you sure you don’t want to go and see the underground river? You probably won’t get too many chances like this.”
Adar looked uncomfortable and embarrassed. “I cannot. I like my feet on solid ground. Perhaps I will accept your invitation when the situation is not so hazardous.”
He left them staring after him and exited the ship to make his preparations. After Vincent restored him to full size, they cloaked the ship and floated through the door that Adar held open.
“We will not be gone long,” Vincent said as they began gaining height. “Our primary intent is to determine if the passage is navigable.”
“Best of luck,” Adar said to empty air. “I am afraid you might need it.”
The ship went straight up until it felt safe to head for the desired part of the island where they would find the entrance to the underwater cave. They swung wide and approached from the sea. Five hundred yards out they slipped into the water and bubbles exploded on the view screens; to immediately race to the surface. There was a hesitation, and the alternate drive kicked in; propelling them forward.
The underwater opening, a twenty-foot circular maw, drew them in. The water was blue and crystal clear, allowing the light to follow them for a respectable distance. When the lack of light became a hazard, Vincent turned on a forward spotlight. The flooded passage was smooth rock carved from many years of exposure to the Caribbean Sea. One-thousand feet into the tunnel it began to angle upward, and not long after, they bobbed to the surface inside the underground cave.
Water flowed off the ship, and the view from the cameras cleared, leaving them floating within throwing distance of the black mini-sub and the dock. Vincent swung the spotlight around a dark and silent cavern and took stock of their surroundings. A six-inch fish tried taking a bite of the bubble in the water. When it bounced off an invisible barrier, it flapped its tail and swam away, headed somewhere where the food was easier to catch.
Jim stared at the screens and made a guess. “I don’t think he is expecting us to come in this way. Does he know you’re amphibious, Vincent?”
“I do not believe so. Jack Smith would have no way of knowing. It was never necessary to reveal that capability to him.”
Claire sat up in her chair; excited by Jim’s idea, “He probably thinks as we did, that you are a spaceship, and unable to operate underwater. We might just take him by surprise.”
“This is good,” concluded Jim. “I don’t see any cameras or security equipment anywhere. He must believe it isn’t necessary.”
Jim and Claire were encouraged. It appeared that retrieving the machine would not be as complicated as they thought. If things went well, they would be in and out in a matter of minutes. Vincent was not so naive. If he learned anything from his time on Earth, he knew that—even the most well thought out plans can go wrong.
They spent the rest of the day killing time. The plan was so simple; there was little that needed discussion. Get inside the cavern, have Vincent drop them at the dock and restore them to full size. Cut the hinges or latch—whichever is easier—and gain access to the bunker. Grab the machine, reverse the process, and escape.
“What if we can’t get through the outside blast door?” asked Claire.
The ship responded, “The device I am providing is capable of cutting through two inches of hardened steel, and was intended to cut holes in the hull in the event of an emergency. I do not think the door will be a problem. The most dangerous aspect is getting out of the way when the door comes down. It will be extremely heavy.”
She continued, “What if we can’t load the machine? I’m afraid I will not be of much help.”
“The portable gravity transport I offered earlier is similar to my deck plating. In this case, it is a two-foot folding plate that is used to cancel the effects of gravity. My people use it to load and unload cargo. You need only to roll the sphere onto the device and guide it where you wish.”
Jim grinned and said with a touch of sarcasm, “Something else I could have used in my trials.” He turned to Claire and explained, “Remember when I climbed the shelving unit in your shop for those scissors. This plate thing would have come in handy. You added a new pair of scissors to the shelf right above where I was hiding.”
“So it was you that moved that package? I thought I imagined it.”
“You looked right at my hiding place. That’s the moment I fell in love.”
Her eyes bounced nervously to his, and her face turned red. Unsure what to say, she managed, “You really do get around—don’t you?”
“It’s been a crazy week. My head is still spinning.”
She gave him a playful wink and asked, “From the week, or because of me.”
He grinned, “Both?”
****
Adar returned as the sun was setting. One view screen displayed the area outside the ship, and they watched as he came in through the back door and stood for a few seconds staring at where he knew the ship should be. He took a step to one side and then to the other and shook his head. The tired and slightly soiled man tapped the badge and said, “Your camouflage is quite good, Vincent. You are truly invisible.”
In his ear came the reply, “My outer skin generates a visual cancellation of my presence. The capability has been extremely useful.”
Where once there was an empty corner of the room, the silver ship appeared. Vincent asked, “Are you ready to join your companions?”
“Yes…I think. I have good news, and I must come inside in any case.” Adar did not look ready. He tensed and closed his eyes. “All right, go ahead.”
He checked his body afterward until the warm feeling faded. After Adar had assured himself he was okay—just smaller—he ran to the ladder and climbed to the ship. Once inside, he approached Jim and Claire to proclaim, “I still think I must be dreaming. Yet, here I am, inside a fo
ur-foot long toy spaceship with two other people I could not know. I must be dreaming, but I cannot wake up.”
Jim understood what he meant. The circumstances were impossible. “I know what you're saying, Adar. I still pinch myself every so often.”
Behind Jim, Claire was pointing at herself and nodding vigorously. “I even tried slapping myself.”
Her remark made Adar smile. Whether it was wise to embrace this new reality or not, he knew he had to help. He glanced at the view screens and the smile faded. On one screen was an aerial view of the main house that made his legs weak. Adar averted his eyes and rushed to say, “I am ready with the diversion. If it works, I believe it will cause quite a commotion, and draw many of the guards away from the house.”
Vincent replied, “Excellent. We have a preliminary plan we should discuss. Are you in need of nourishment?”
After a brief discussion, they decided on something light and universal. Various fruits and nuts washed down with iced tea. The two Americans were not as surprised as the Syrian when two bowls of fresh produce appeared in the food dispenser, followed by frosty glasses of sweet tea.
“How does he do that?”
Jim admitted, “I have no idea. I doubt I could understand even if he explained it. What Vincent can do looks like magic, but it’s not. We just have a lot to learn.”
“Imagine showing a microwave to someone in the seventeenth century,” added Claire, “To us, it’s commonplace—to them it is impossible.”
“Just roll with it Adar. We are doing things that science fiction writers have been dreaming of for centuries. Wait until you hear what we have learned. Vincent, can we have the table and chairs again, and bring up the map. I’d like to show Adar.”
The previous dining setting formed and the humans each grabbed a seat. Above the table, the holographic map appeared and began its slow rotation. Adar watched the representation with amazement, his eyes darting from feature to feature. “What an interesting way to see the island. Our little space friend is full of surprises.”
Vincent Page 12
