Atlantis: Bermuda Triangle

by Robert Doherty

  This morning they had reached the river and turned to the west, running for a half hour before collapsing in this spot. The River Avon wasn’t very wide or deep but it was below the level of the Salisbury Plain and afforded them some protection from observation. Ragnarok knew that the King’s men who were killed by the Valkyries during the dark hours would be missed sooner or later. Ragnarok looked up at the sun. It was after mid-day.

  Tam Nok saw him staring at her and reached up to her head, feeling her hair. “It used to be black,” she said.

  “What happened to it?”

  “One day I looked down in a stream I was crossing and I saw that it had changed color.”

  Ragnarok had known a man whose hair had changed like that. Who had gone out on the sea to fish for the day and not returned for three weeks. And when he came back his hair was white, his eyes haunted and he was mute. He never spoke again, dying less than six months later.

  “What occurred just before your hair changed?” he asked.

  “It happened when I started my journey. I had to go into the dark area near my home.” Tam Nok shook her head. “There are some things it is best not to speak of.”

  “If we are to travel together, I think--” Ragnarok began, but he noted that Tam Nok wasn’t looking at him, but beyond with a strange expression. Ragnarok sprang to his feet and turned, ax in hand.

  An old man was standing on the edge of the plain where it began descending to the river bank. He wore tattered rags and his face was obscured by a large, bushy gray beard. The man was holding a staff of what appeared to be black wood, perfectly smooth and over six feet long. Something on the tip of the staff was reflecting light, almost blinding Ragnarok. He squinted. An intricately carved ornament-- a seven headed snake. The other end of the staff ended in a spear head, which also shone in the sunlight.

  Ragnarok had never seen such a weapon. But it must have meant something to Tam Nok, because she pushed past the Viking rattling off something in her native language.

  “Now slow down woman,” the man said in Ragnarok’s tongue but with an accent the Viking had heard before-- far to the north on this God-forsaken island in the land where there were hills and bogs and deep lochs and the people dressed in clothes with patterns that told what family they belonged to. A strange people who the Vikings respected in battle because they were capable of being as insane as the Norsemen when it came to the blood lust.

  The man walked down to their small camp. Penarddun, woken by the voices, opened her bleary eyes. She blearily stared at the man for a few seconds, then her eyes widened. “Lailoken!”

  The old man went to the river and knelt, dipping his face into the water and drinking deeply. His head came up, the beard dripping water. “Some have called me that,” he acknowledged. His gray eyes softened and grew distant. “It has been a long time, though, since any one did so.” The eyes sharpened and he looked at Penarddun. “You are one of those that worship the stones and trees and stars.”

  Penarddun dipped her head. The man laughed, then twirled, holding the staff out from him, the spear end cutting the air. It was as if he had suddenly disconnected from reality for a few seconds, then just as quickly he stopped and became serious.

  His gaze shifted to Ragnarok. “A ravager from the sea. I have seen your people fight along the shores to the north and east of here. I learned your language from one your fellows stranded in my country. You are a long way from the ocean sailor of the north.” He stepped closer. “Tell me do you enjoy the killing? Or is it the dying? If I remember correctly your people seem to relish both.”

  He didn’t wait for an answer as he turned his attention to Tam Nok. “I have not seen you’re like before. Nor do I know the tongue you spoke to me in. I assume since you travel with this large barbarian you know his tongue.” He reached out with a hand encrusted with dirt. Tam Nok didn’t flinch as he ran a finger along the sides of her eyes. “Most strange. Most strange. Do you see differently?” He laughed, an insane edge to the sound. “Oh, I think you do. I think you do!”

  “My name is Tam Nok. I am from the kingdom of the Khmer.” She pointed at his staff. “The Naga on your--”

  “The what?” Lailoken interrupted. “The what?”

  “The seven-headed snake. We call it the Naga in our land. It is sacred.”

  Lailoken looked at his staff as if seeing it for the first time. “A sacred snake with seven heads? People are so strange aren’t they?” He laughed. “I thought it pretty so I took it.” He shook his head. “It is so hard to remember everything.” He held the staff at arm’s length and looked at it as if seeing it for the first time. “Yes, it is sacred. That I remember.”

  “Who are you?” Tam Nok asked.

  The old man shook, as if a sudden chill had raced through his body, then he turned serious. “She called me Lailoken. That is what I was called long, long ago. When I counseled the King. The first King I counseled that is. Yes, I told him much. But he didn’t listen. They never listen.”

  “We will listen,” Tam Nok said.

  “I warned them!” He stopped and smiled, transforming his entire face into an old, gentle man. “They called me Lailoken. They called me other names. Later. Myrddin. When I was with another King. Have you heard that name?”

  “Myrddin?” Penarddun’s voice quavered.

  “Yes.”

  “Merlin in the new tongue,” Penarddun said.

  “I prefer Lailoken. It is the name my mother and father gave me. Sometimes the languages get confused in my hand. I know many languages and have been to many lands. But you--” he pointed at Tam Nok-- “you are something new.”

  His voice changed once more and became manic. “I told the King. The first King. I told him about the dragons. One red. One white. Fighting, fighting, fighting. All the time. And that’s why his walls collapsed. He could not build his castle.”

  “King Vortigen?” Penarddun asked.

  The old man nodded.

  “Vortigen ruled over five hundred years ago,” Penarddun said in a lower voice to Tam Nok and Ragnarok.

  “It was a long time ago,” Lailoken acknowledged. “I told him of the dragons under Dinas Emrys. The red and white. And if he drained the pool, the dragons would come out and he could build his castle. Of course, I also told him that the white dragon would kill the red. And since his symbol was the red dragon, he did not take this news well. But he was not a believer. The white, ahh--” Lailoken trailed off.

  “The white was the line of Artor-- Arthur,” Penarddun whispered.

  “Yes. But there was more to the prophecy,” Lailoken said. “All people remember is Artor and the table and the stories of the sword and the warriors in their armor. And even now most don’t think it was true. But those things were not important. What was important is I saw the future. I saw the Shadow coming once more. I wanted them to prepare. To stop fighting among themselves.”

  “The Shadow?” Tam Nok pressed.

  His eyes closed and he pressed his hands against the side of his head. “Darkness coming out of the Earth. A wall of darkness. And out of the darkness death and suffering for all. The earth itself will shatter, fire will come forth. There will be a deadly rain that will kill the beasts and all the plants. All life. The witches, three sisters, will come first, to clear the way.”

  That struck a chord with Ragnarok. “The Valkyries?”

  “Valkyries?” Lailoken. “In your land, they are called that. Witches. Demonesses. Succubesses. Hand maidens of the devil. Forerunners of the darkness. Whatever.” Lailoken suddenly sat down, the staff across his knees. “I am tired. And hungry. I have traveled far to be here.”

  “Why?” Tam Nok asked as she pulled some dried meat and stale bread from her pack and handed it to the old man.

  Lailoken’s voice lightened once more. “Why am I tired? Because I traveled far. Why am I hungry? Because I ate little while I traveled. Why did I travel far? Because I needed to get here.”

  Tam Nok was very patient. “Why are you
here?”

  Lailoken stuffed his mouth with bread and flecks came out of his mouth when he answered. “To meet you, of course. At least I think it is you I am supposed to meet. I am not so sure of things now as I used to be.”

  Ragnarok frowned. The old man looked like a beggar-- except for the staff-- and he spoke like a crazy man. He had seen such before, living on the edge of a village, begging for food, babbling about all sorts of nonsense. There were some who believed the crazy to be the mouthpieces of the Gods, but Ragnarok thought they were just broken people.

  Tam Nok shoot him a dirty look, as if she knew what he was thinking, then she sat next to the old man. “Lailoken, please tell me why were you seeking us?”

  “To help you.” He shoved a piece of dried meat into his mouth.

  “How?” Tam Nok asked.

  Lailoken laughed, spewing pieces of half-chewed meat. “How? How should I know? You should know. What help do you need?”

  Tam Nok’s voice was patient. “We need to lift the memory stone at Stonehenge.”

  Ragnarok snorted. “We need to survive the attacks of the Valkyries first.”

  “It was not called Stonehenge when it was built. And it was not built for your people--” Lailoken pointed a finger at Penarddun-- “to dance around and worship.”

  “Why was it built?” Tam Nok asked.

  Lailoken shrugged. “I have forgotten. It was before even my time.” Lailoken held up the staff. “This will help you do both things you desire.” He tossed it toward Ragnarok and the Viking, despite his surprise, caught it with one hand. It was deceptively light. The shaft was not wood but a material he had never felt before but he sensed was very strong. He held the spear in front of his face. The head was a foot long from the point and spreading to a width of eight inches at the base. Ragnarok reached to test the edge with a finger, but halted as Lailoken hissed a warning.

  “Don’t do that. You’ll slice your finger off and not know until it is on the ground in front of you.”

  Ragnarok pulled his other hand back. The edge did appear to be very sharp. He flipped the staff and looked at the carved figure. A seven-headed snake, the likes of which he had never seen before. He heard of such from his mother, a creature called a hydra.

  “That can open the memory stone?” Tam Nok asked.

  “So I have been told and so I tell,” Lailoken said.

  “Who told you?” Tam Nok asked. “The Ones Before?”

  Lailoken’s hand paused on the way to his mouth with a load of bread. “Ones Before?” He seemed to be deep in thought for several seconds. “They want to help, but they can’t come here like the Valkyries can. Not anymore. Long ago, long ago, they could. Many changes. Things they don’t even understand so I do not pretend to understand.” His voice changed tone, becoming sing-song. “So they told me. Told others. Gave us signs. Sent messages. But many didn’t listen. Don’t listen.”

  “If we take you to the stone,” Tam Nok said, “will you open it for us? We will listen, I promise.”

  Lailoken leaned over until he was lying on his side. “Yes. I will open the Stone. But first I must sleep.”

  THE PRESENT

  Chapter 15

  1999 AD

  The first thing Dane was aware of was that there were others around him. Alive. He reached out with his mind-- Sin Fen and Ariana very close. Pushing further, he picked up DeAngelo’s swirling dreams. They were all unconscious.

  Dane sat up and opened his eyes. It was cold and pitch black. There was not even the slightest bit of light for his eyes to adjust to. He remembered the flashlight Ariana had had. He reached down and got on his hands and knees.

  He touched a body and checked vital signs. Pulse was good and as far as he could tell by feel, nothing was broken. From the mental impressions he was receiving, he knew the body was Ariana.

  He continued with his search and given the small size of the sphere came across Sin Fen’s unconscious form a few seconds later. Dane did a quick medical survey of her also, as he had been taught three decades ago in special forces training and had reinforced with his years of search and rescue experience. Sin Fen also seemed to be battered but not broken. Dane paused before continuing to look for the flashlight. He reached up and placed his hands on either side of her head.

  He focused his mind. The surrounding darkness and silence helped, reducing his sensory inputs to just the grating under his knees and the head between his hands.

  Dane saw a massive, flat-topped pyramid. It was large, over five hundred feet high, made of black stone, reminding Dane of one he had seen in Mexico, but larger than that, even larger than the Great Pyramid in Egypt. The stone glistened in the sunlight.

  A line of people in various colored cloaks were lined along the steep stairs on both sides. At the very top was a stone slab, surrounded by a ring of people in black robes. All were dark-skinned, with black hair.

  A body was lying on the slab. A woman. She was different than those around her. Fair-skinned with very blond, almost white hair. Her blue eyes were wide open, staring straight up. She wore a red robe. She turned to one of those in the black robes who held a staff in his hand and her mouth moved.

  She was saying something but Dane heard nothing. There were three men and a woman standing at one end of the platform. Not wearing robes, but rather shiny armor with leather underneath. Swords were at their waists, bows slung over their shoulders and spears in their hands. Their faces were hard-- a look Dane knew well. Warriors who had seen much death. He could tell they were anxious, wanting whatever was to happen to occur. He knew, simply by seeing them, that they had accompanied the woman on the slab to this place after a long and perilous journey. The female warrior cast a nervous glance to the north. In that direction Dane now saw a dark cloud-- the Shadow filling the horizon. A gate was open and growing, coming toward the pyramid.

  The woman on the slab finished speaking. She looked straight up into the perfectly blue sky above. The cloaked man she had been talking to placed his hand on her forehead. She nodded very slightly. He removed his hand. He moved over and placed his staff in a small hole next to the slab she was on. It slid down a foot and then stopped.

  The other priests and priestesses were chanting. A halo of blue light surrounded the woman’s head. Her body arched upward from, her mouth rigid with pain but Dane could hear nothing. The man twisted the staff. The glow around the woman’s head was growing larger. Something was happening to her head.

  Dane squinted, trying to make out what exactly what--

  A lance of pain ripped through Dane’s head above his left eye, knocking him backwards. In the process of doing so, he let go of Sin Fen’s head, but it didn’t bounce back on the deck as she sat up in the darkness.

  The pain was gone as quickly as it had come.

  “What’s the status?” Sin Fen asked.

  Dane rubbed his forehead. “It’s dark, we have no power and I can’t find a light.”

  “Ariana must have cut all power completely when she shut the computer down,” Sin Fen said.

  “Better than have that thing get into the computer like it did her airplane in Cambodia.”

  “We have no clue what happened. We don’t know if what hit us was a probe from the gate.”

  Dane could hear Sin Fen moving in the dark.

  “You know it was,” Dane said. “You could sense it just as I could.”

  Dane shut his eyes as a beam of light cut through the darkness. Slowly he opened them. Sin Fen had turned on an emergency light above the master computer. Ariana stirred and Dane helped her sit up.

  “How are you doing?” Dane asked her.

  “I’m living,” Ariana replied. She squinted into the light. “The habitat seems to be intact. What the hell hit us?”

  “I don’t know,” Dane said.

  Ariana shivered. “It’s getting cold.”

  “Can you get us powered up?” Dane asked.

  Ariana nodded. She sat down in front of the computer and pressed a button. Th
e screen glowed. “At least this is working. It will take me a little while.”

  *****

  Captain Bateman had been left alone for hours. Submariners tended to stay out of areas they weren’t supposed to be in and the computer center led to no other area-- a dead end-- and because of that no one had tried the door. And because the computers had run efficiently for that entire time period.

  Bateman closed a panel and checked his watch. He was ready. Now it was just a matter of time. He leaned back and pressed both hands against the side of his head. Pain, like the ticking of a watch, was throbbing on the right side, just behind his ear. He slid his right hand across the skin and felt a bump underneath-- it seemed to his fingers to be vibrating slightly to the same beat as the pain.

  He closed his eyes, then opened them, confusion showing. For the briefest of moments he didn’t know where he was or what he was doing. But the moment passed and a curtain came down over his thoughts. He slumped back once more.

  *****

  “The habitat seems to be fine,” Dane’s voice was like ointment on a wound for Foreman who had been convinced Deeplab IV and everyone in it was gone.

  Foreman looked up at the status board. There were red lights flashing. An officer ran up. “Sir, we have confirmed the NSA’s tsunami alert for the northwest coast of Puerto Rico. Whatever came out of the gate generated a lot of power and it’s headed for the coast.”

  *****

  Tsunami is Japanese for harbor wave. The mile and a half diameter projection from the Bermuda Triangle gate toward the Milwaukee Deep had generated a force that disturbed the mass of water it passed through, much as a child moving his hand through his bathwater caused a disturbance except this was billions of times more powerful.

  In the deep water of the Puerto Rican Trench, the effect was negligible, even though it had almost destroyed Deeplab IV. But as the effect went southeast, the depth decreased dramatically, transforming the power of the tsunami. The generated wave, no more than twelve inches in height at the beginning and initially traveling at four hundred miles an hour, slowed as it got closer to land. The energy that had been in the velocity was reflected by the rising ocean bottom, forming an ever-higher wave. The distance between the wave crests also shortened, changing the power vectors in the wave.